Blessings of Thanks

It is just a couple days before the Thanksgiving holiday. The leaves have long since disappeared from the trees, and the landscape if almost devoid of color. From the leafy greens of summer thru the color stricken displays of autmn, we now fast approach winter.

A few days ago I took a ride on my Harley through town. The senses seemed to be stiff and chilled, but the sensation of being on the bike in late November proved rather invigorating. The pace of life seems to be quickening in the anticipation of the holiday rush. From the rush of traffic thru the malls to the crowded streets, we all sense the season and are already beginning the arduous task of shopping for that perfect gift or stocking up on our favorite foods or even loading up on the endless displays of lights and other such decorations. It is a busy time, and not really one to be out on the motorcycle. It was getting late that evening, and a stop at the local Starbucks for some coffee helped warm my chills for the ride home. As I made my way through traffic, I was shown a wonderful display of orange strokes of cirrus clouds against the setting blue sky. As the sun set further and further, the orange changed to purples and greys. Unfortunately - my camera lay sitting comfortably on the piano at home, but the view even through the nightmarish traffic was a most divine scene, further endearing my belief in God's blessings for the coming holiday season.

A friend from high school issued a challenge to some of her friends and I thought it was most appropriate for this holiday. Name something every day to be thankful for. While for many that may seem a rather ardent task but for me I have been finding many things to feel blessed and thankful for. Since acquiring my Harley, I decided to quit drinking alcohol. My sobriety alone has been a deep blessing. I have learned to be a bit more appreciative of those around me, maybe a bit more patient, and even taking life at a bit of a slower pace. So often we busy ourselves with work, or mulling the daily grind that we let life slide right by us. That was the case for me. As I work two jobs myself, often times my time is very limited, so I must take full advantage of every minute. I won't embarass or divulge her name, but I believe she deserves a Thank You from me for making me take stock of all those things I AM thankfull for a blessed with.

In the next day or so my family and I will leave for my parents house in Michigan. For all of us this will be the first Thanskgiving holiday we have spent together in a very long time. I sense a divine intervention of sorts, in part that all of us will be finally able to sit at the table and be a family, foregoing our busy lives in favor of pause, reflection, thanks, and humility. I have hopes that our family can find the strength and courage to heal whatever was, and be family when family means the most in our lives. Today as I rode my Harley I began to realize I am not just thankful for the opportunity, but also the sense of endearment this time feels like for all of us.

I am thankful today for the wisdom that I have been blessed with in the hopes that our family can all become wiser and stronger this holiday season. I also give thanks for each of our troops, and pray the leaders of our nation find the way to bring them home. Lastly, I pray for whomever chooses to read this, in the hopes that they too, find peace and blessing this holiday season.

All Hallows Eve

Thats right. Its Halloween. Time for kids to scramble for every last morsel of candy they can stand. In some ways adults, too partake of a fun evening of scaring the kids, daring the kids, and feeding the kids into this sugarland frenzy. In my youth, I, too had the usual escape into the haunted houses, caramel apples, and even hay rides thru the farm fields.

It is a fun time for us all. Harvest is well into full swing, with machines of green and red dotting the fields, spraying their dust and chunks into the air, feeding on cornfields and soybean fields with a most voracious appetite. I have taken more than a few rides in the last several weeks, and I am always in awe of the huge John Deere and Massey Ferguson combines chewing up cornfields in an endless drone thru the night. This year farmers are celebrating a good crop year, as was evident two weeks ago as I rode past one particular farm with piles and piles of their crop laying next to their silos. Weather has really been a blessing for farm yields, although lately rain has been soaking the harvest down a bit.

Fall has brought some wonderful colors in our area. On many of my rides I have taken my camera and brought some samples of the fall blossoms. Fall, for me at least, is probably my favorite season. So many colors, changes, celebrations, even perhaps a sense of blessing as the coming of the Christmas season is upon us. Thanksgiving is right around the corner, and this year we will finally spend a holiday with my parents, who have returned to Michigan in their retirement. Fall is a tough season to get thru. For some the changes can be difficult. The latest flu bugs seem to be progressing thru our house and Mary is having a particularly rough time recuperating from this ugliness. I have had my own battle with the bug, but compared with other years, this seems to be a bit easier to recover from. Last year I had the flu four times, and getting the flu that many times can take a toll on your body. Moral here is get a flu shot!

I took a day a few weeks back to experience the fall colors along the Mississippi River. Temps were in the low 60's, but sunny. My route would take me along the east bank of the river, thru the town of Savanna, Illinois northward to Dubuque, Iowa and back home. I struggled a bit with road construction. Those pesky guys in orange tearing up old roadways in favor of newer and much SMOOTHER terrain. I happen to be one of those guys in orange so I don't complain. For me - they are making the roadway a better place to travel whether we want to believe that or not. I took a turn into the Palisades Mississippi State Park, and found a small secluded but VERY breathtaking view of the Mississippi Basin. One of the signs but this area made mention of an eagle watching spot, so I must remember to get back there to watch the eagles. After taking several pictures of the enormous viewpoints, I took back to the highway, snaking along its meandering way. A number of viewpoints exist along the river, and I highly recommend that area as a great way to spend a day or a month!

One particular town is Galena, Illinois. Upon first observation I noted several antique furniture shops. There are several smaller private shops, but this is a town that you could spend many days in and lots of money. My wife and I, having just purchased our first home (late bloomers of sorts) we are just starting to look for small pieces to decorate our modest dwelling. Unfortunately on the bike I was, so more notes to self that this is a must see and shop place. The raw beauty of the old stone buildings covered in fall foliage just oozes artwork before your eyes.



With the coming season we also take note of our veterans. This is a subject near to my heart, as I too, am a veteran. I don't want recognition or awards, merely to celebrate those who really stood in harms way and for some, paid the ultimate sacrifice. A few days ago, I sped off on my Harley once more, in search of a place called Freedom Rock. This is a little known rock that sits just off the edge of the road in western Iowa about 50 miles west of Des Moines. Some folks might question my sanity for riding to see a rock. Its estimated at 60 tons, and rather than try to move it, county engineers left it there until one Memorial weekend in 1999, a local artist named Ray Sorenson II decided to paint the rock in a military veterans motif of sorts. Today the rock has undergone a new face lift every year on Memorial weekend. Locals gather as he puts new artwork in place of the old honoring and respecting our veterans.


As I arrived at this rock, I noted several varieties of birds flocking along the fence rows almost as if to greet my arrival. After taking a few pictures of my own, other people started showing up, including one particular couple I will not forget. They seemed intent on photographing just about anything that moved, but on a whim, asked me if they could take my photo with my camera. Of course! It just would not do to ride 190 miles on a Harley, and ride back with no pictures of you standing next to this rock. As they took my picture, the man, whose name he didn't give, asked if I was a veteran, and upon finding out that I had indeed served in the submarine service, extended his hand and said "Thank you for your service".


To say Thank You means something different to each of us, and depending on the context it may mean nothing, but in this case, I had hardly ever been thanked at all for my military service. I served on a nuclear powered ballistic missile submarine, a ship that has only one purpose in its life. At the time of my service during the Cold War, it was quite common for Americans to spit at, cat call, name call, throw objects at servicemen who served on these submarines. Indeed on one such occasion, my new wife and I were attempting to grocery shop at the base commissary, and were literally blasted with profanities and the occasional fruit or vegetable. Luckily the Marine detachment noted our difficulty and resolved the matter, but it is amazing the change we as Americans have gone thru. Since the 1960's during the Vietnam Conflict our servicemen and women have endured countless attacks from our own people, and yet on this day, in November of 2009, I was being thanked by a total stranger.



I do not to this day know these people or their own walk thru life, but on this day I felt a bit of gratitude, humility, and even a bit of embarrassment. For me, my service was standing my watch. While I cannot divulge the specifics of each patrol, I can tell you I served my tour of duty, stood my watch, learned respect and honor, and left the service with four years of honorable service under my belt. I had qualified in submarines, earned my dolphins, and did what my country asked me to. Nothing more. Today, Marines and soldiers whose ages resemble my own children don't just stand a watch, they man a gun, they protect each other, they fight the enemy, and in some cases they give their life. They make sacrifices I never did, although getting on a ship designed to sink isn't the most intelligent thing to do. Today's vets do not just stand a watch, and for them to give their life for my freedom is a hard pill for me to take. I believe I should be the one making that sacrifice, so when someone thanks me for MY service, it is something I have a hard time dealing with. I took the oath long ago to protect my country against all enemies foreign and domestic, and that should include these kids who serve now.



As I rode back home from Freedom Rock I pondered this irony. I thought about the Iowa soldier who took 6 hits from a small caliber weapon, and saved his buddies that day. I thought about the soldiers who have lost limbs from IED's and come home to lead fairly productive lives. I also thought about the soldiers killed at Fort Hood, and I thought about our grandfathers who fought and died in the Great Wars. I can only thank THEM for their service. Do I deserve to receive such thanks? That is not for me to say. I hope someday I can find this couple again. I rode home feeling blessed that for the first time, someone took the time to thank ME for my service.


I suggest as we go into the holidays let us be thankful for our troops, our sailors, our airmen for serving our country and keeping us safe!

Riding into the Sunrise

It is almost fall here in Iowa. Already leaves on the trees are changing color. For me it seems a bit early, but the nicer cooler temps and excessive rainfall is really causing Mother Nature to change seasons a bit early. Even the cornfields are turning brown. So to is my seasonal clock amiss. This year has been one for the books.

Work has kept me busy, tormenting me with the doldrums of working a regular day job with the neverending toiling of my contract work. Riding time on my Harley has really been sliced to a minimum. Riding when I can to work and back some days has been about all I can fit in, but I have managed to find some time to spend more than a few hours on the scooter. Sometimes I have to be forced from my desk as those dreaded timelines tend to keep me posted at my workstation for hours on end without a break. And then there are times when my mood and my temperament finally drive my family to point and escort me to my awaiting steed, almost as if I had committed some wrong for which my pennance must be ridden off. Well, if I must!

As the fall season approaches the sun seems to rise later and later in the morning. Waking up in the darkness of early morning can tend to be a little worrisome, but eventually the sun takes its place in the sky for the day. As an amatuer astronomer and stargazer, there is always something in our sky to observe and keep us company. The moon too, takes its path across our skies reminding us of such things as harvest time, and monthly change. Lately Jupiter has taken its place in our skies providing wonderful planetary views. If you ever want to see true beauty - look up!

A few weeks ago I had an urging to take another extended ride to - well somewhere. Spend a day just getting away to some nearby city or town escaping the barren scenery of Iowa. One such town I wanted to visit was Madison, Wisconsin. My wife had been there once for a few days of some sort of company training a few years ago, and she was visibly impressed with the inveritable treasure trove of scenic beauty, commerical progress, and friendly atmosphere. I spent a couple days going over various routes, mentally noting various roadmarks for reference on my trip. Initially I had planned to ride just to Madison, but after some careful planning with my wife, opted for a much longer route from Madison to La Crosse. In reviewing the maps of Wisconsin I noted Highway 35 ran directly on the east shoreline of the Mississippi River - which might prove to be an awesome return ride when the fall colors were in full bloom.

I took off the Friday before Labor Day weekend to accomodate my riding activities. The route I chose was mapped at slightly over 500 miles which would take most of not all day on the bike assuming I didnt have any misfortune. The prior weekend I spent an hour changing all the fluids on my Harley. I wanted to make sure there were not going to be ANY problems, so when I dressed in my leathers that morning I was ready. I had packed my road atlas and my GPS receiver, in part because I knew I was going to a strange town, and it would not take much for me to get lost. That statement would later prove to be all too prophetic.

As I turned onto Highway 151 and headed towards Madison, I noted a number of foggy areas which filtered out the rays of sun leaving just a small orange orb left hanging in the sky by the angels. Some may not believe in angels, but I like to believe angels are everywhere. And was it ever a view! Occassionally I would ride above the fog layer revealing the full sunshine, and then sink back below leaving the sun drooping in our sky. I was riding into the sunrise, and as I reached Dubuque, a local town on the Mississippi River, the fog was became more dense above town, but as I descended into town, suddenly the clouds opened and the bright sun shone its warmth on my face. I knew it would be a gorgeous day after that!

The ride across to Madison proved to be fairly uneventful. I stopped once for gas in a small town just southwest of Madison, filling up on gas and a small bottle of cranberry juice. My energy level was down a bit and manhandling that bike bike for three hours had left me a bit low on energy. After contacting my wife briefly by text message of my whereabouts, I got back onto the road and made my way into Madison. the trip itself took me not quite 3 hours, and I was ready to get into Madison.

One thing my wife and I love is our sweatshirts, and this particular trip I tasked myself with finding the University of Wisconsin campus for a sweatshirt. It looked easy enough on the map. Right?? As I rode towards my exit, I was forced to make a hasty lane change, making me miss my turn. After several foul spats at the offending driver, I pulled off and headed back to my exit. At this point I was more frustrated with the bad driving and the excessive cell phone use. Nothing irritates a motorcyclist more than someone driving while talking to someone on their cell phone. I took my turnoff, got into the inside lane, and proceeded to - - - get lost. It wasnt all that hard to do. After ending up in the wrong lane, I took one wrong turn, and violay! After a couple of miles I realized I wasnt where I should be, and pulled up next to a beautiful park area, which smelled wondrously of flowers, although I wasnt sure what variety. Nevermind the flowers, though. Where was I??

As it turned out, my prayers for finding my way were soon answered! I had often heard of the generosity of a fellow Harley rider, and on this occassion I truly believe the angels sent this man to my rescue, for as I was pulling out my map and my GPS unit, a friendly neighborhood biker pulled up and said "You are lost aren't you" almost as if he had been sent to rescue me. After I told him my plight, and where I was headed, he said "Why dont you follow me - I will get you there". And with that we set off, and after about 10 minutes I got to my destination. I never got to thank this man at least with lunch or a handshake. Instead, he told me to ride safe, have a great time, and then left. I never got his name, but somehow I feel he was there for a purpose.

I spent the next 90 minutes getting to the Campus Bookstore for those beloved sweatshirts. I was still in most of my riding gear, and I kinda stuck out, but I finally made it to the store. I searched the displays and found what I came for. On the way back to my bike, I walked by a park area where you could see one of the lakes that Madison is surrounded by. A sailboat had perched itself near the beach, and the water was filled with boats of all kinds. It was a beatiful scene, and I wished I had planned more time there, but I still had places to go, so I kept hiking. One particular lady caught my eye and smiled as if she had been watching my tourist like behavior. A friendly face smiling and a helping hand. All in two hours. Madison had made a good first impression, so I will plan on a return visit later.

Once I packed my wares onto the bike, I quickly made my way back out of town to the Interstate. I gassed up and headed northwesterly to La Crosse. The two hour trip was mostly uneventful, but because of the holiday the road was rather filled with traffic, so I was keeping extra distance between myself and traffic. It had become a bit warmer and my leather jacket was in my saddlebag. Not exactly the smartest thing but my best decision making is done when I am a bit cooler. As I pulled into La Crosse, I noted I was running a bit behind. Friday night is my bowling night and it was at least another 3 hours back home. I hurriedly gassed the bike, and made a quick stop for a cheeseburger. I needed some energy and hadnt really eaten all day. Note to self. Next trip pack your own lunch.

Now I was headed south along the Mighty Mississippi. There are literally a ton of historical markers, sites, bars, and scenic viewpoints along the river. there are also a number of Lock and Dam structures controlling river flow and barge traffic on the river. It was here I pulled out my little hand held 4 MP camera and started taking some pictures. I had purchased a clamp mount for my camera, but because I was running behind chose not to use it and snap pictures by hand. I snapped several pictures testing different hand positions and shutter settings. Taking images like this can be rewarding and it can be trying, but the biggest issue is having to snap pictures with one hand while driving a motorcycle with the other. After snapping about 40 frames I put the camera back in my vest. Safety should come first, and this is an exercise I do not recommend.

I crossed back into Iowa at Prairie Du Chien. The river is narrow here, and the bridge is a smaller one. I pulled over once to put some eyedrops, and again to contact my wife to meet me with my bowling equipment. The views up in that area are just tremendous, and should be even better when the fall colors come out. The highway back home was a winding road, hilly, and swervy - just right for a motorcycle! Passing thru Strawberry Point, Manchester, Ryan, and on past Coggon turning home, I noted the orange glow of sunset. It had been a wonderful relaxing day. I felt almost as if I had a copilot with me watching me and guarding me.

A few days later I had gotten up and checked my cell phone messages. I noted that there was a short notice ride for the Patriot Guard Riders, a national organization whose purpose is to welcome soldiers home from active duty or funerals, using a flag line for support. This day would be a Welcome Home for a local soldier who had spent two years at Walter Reed Hospital getting his legs repaired from injuries sustained in a gunfight in Afghanistan. This is indeed a worthy cause to me, and since I don't often get the chance to attend these rides, today I would make an exception. I informed my wife of my plan, kissed her for the day and headed to work. As I made my way on my bike around town to my office, I noticed the horizon.

Once again I was riding into the sunrise.

Makin' Treks

Its hard to believe the paths we all sometimes take to get to where we are. In my case I had every hope of being a musician. It was more of a smaller obsession really. How I ended up a land surveyor is still a bit of a mystery. I have an old friend from high school who became a nurse. One of the better football players I knew became a concrete contractor. Its amazing how the little changes we make in our lives, the treks we make, the ideals that shape us all combine to form a person that we never expected of ourselves, nor each other. Look back on who you were before college and you might be surprised at the treks you made to get to where you are today.

The last couple weeks have been fairly hectic. Laden with all those daily grinds coupled with work, demands from others, bills to pay, daily thoughts of "Who signed me up for THIS", maybe a club asks of your time, or maybe its just the lack of any time to yourself at all. Pressure to meet a deadline or finish work on a project. Sights and sounds invade the consciousness, tearing it apart only to rebuild it again, shaping and molding our ideals, our thoughts, our character. Lately I have built up walls around myself, retreating from the stress overload that greets us at our doors every morning. Sometimes its easier to go into that "self preservation" mode in order to keep your wits about you.

All this stress and sensory overload has been catching up with me and keeping my thoughts scattered. Figuring if I "made treks" and spent time on my Harley it might clear the soul a bit. So it was Sunday - a day set aside for rest. A day God made for us to remember His goodness, too! I set out at first not really with a route but just to get away, but noted as I headed south the motorcycle course was in full swing at the community college in town. AHA - lets go see!! After all, the instructors out there helped to correct a few of my riding "mistakes", and even though I paid for the course, they made sure I remembered my lessons well. As luck would have it they offered an invitation to the experienced rider course. That could be fun because I would use my own bike for that course. After thanking them, I made treks southward.

I have a favorite route I take southwards. Its a delight to ride! Nice gradual curves rising up and settling into the countryside. It crosses the Iowa River, and also crosses Lake McBride, a local lake known for fishing and boating. It was nice and cool, too, so wearing full leathers wouldn't be a problem. Making treks I say, and heading south I was just starting to feel the calming effects of the road. Its also a bit amazing what you actually "see" on the motorcycle. A pair of Blue Jays sitting on a fence, a fawn and its mother hiding from the roar of the bike, the golden hawk circling over a potential meal. Appreciating these kinds of things really serves to calm the spirit. After making a quick stop to check on some riding apparel I wanted to check out, I decided to keep heading south. Making treks!

Land surveyors are a, well, for lack of a better, term, an interesting species. We tend to be master of all that surrounds us folks. I mean - where else can you find a car mechanic, lawyer, engineer, secretary, babysitter, woodsman, arborist, computer geek, county recorder, politician, cook, heck even lawnmower repair - all rolled into one little harmless person! If there ever was a profession where the pay simply is not enough, this is it! Oddly enough in my trails on the roads and highways, I am keenly aware of the treks surveyors make. We all see them. Paint marks in the road, a wooden lath sticking up out of the ground, even a tripod standing staring intently down the road looking for its master. Sundays trip was chock FULL of surveyor treks. I found them harmlessly aligning about every road I travelled down, as if announcing the impending road construction to come. By that time, those surveyors have already made their own treks.

And then there is the road itself. We all follow its paths mindlessly, urging the road to take us to our destination. For me, though, the road actually tells me something, leaves its own treks behind. Heading south out of Iowa City I rode past their "REGIONAL" airport. More of just a one lane landing strip really. I began to notice some seams in the road that crisscrossed the highway that alerted me to a project I had worked on a few years back as a surveyor. After a couple miles of this crisscrossing, I realized what I was seeing was the original road alignment crossing the existing road. The road, as it seems, was telling me where it had gone and where it was now, a standing unobserved testament to a historical moment in time, frozen for all passers by. The road, it seems, had made its own treks at one time.

Later, after pulling into my garage, I noticed the neighbors whizzing by in their cars and trucks, on their way to their own destinations....making treks!

News Weather and WHAT?

Normally tonight would have been much like any other night. Rush home, fix dinner on the grill, work for three or four hours, and just collapse in bed at 11. Tonight several of my coworkers and I were invited to a little BBQ get together at a local news station. Ordinarily when you watch the news you see folks who literally keep us connected to what is happening in our community. Sometimes reporters can be a bit, well, intimidating, or they can be swell folks who promote worthy causes. In the case of CNN, well, that's another issue entirely. Tonight I figured I would have nothing to lose by attending a simple BBQ. After all, one of the things they teach you in the military is never turn down free food or a chance to go to the bathroom, right?

The weather was just perfect tonight. Not really overly warm, and a slight breeze made the bit of humidity go away. I decided to take my bike - of course. It was a perfect day to ride! As I turned northward towards the station, I let everything go from the day and just relaxed, something I am usually not akin to doing. Working as much as I do it is sometimes rather difficult to slow down and step back from the office or the pace of life, so it was grand just to get on the bike, start it up and take my time and make the ride count!.

Unfortunately, traffic sometimes has other plans with my time. Several times I ran into slow moving traffic, or the occasional aggressor switching lanes and causing a havoc. When you are just cruising, though, its a lot easier to just slow down, and let traffic snake its own way around. As I pulled off into the station area, I was almost tempted to ride back towards town, but alas, the temptation of a free meal and meeting some of the staff at the station were more inviting. Besides, rush hour can be awful hectic on a motorcycle!

Walking into the station, I was guided back thru the newsroom and to a side door that led outside. Having never seen a newsroom, I always thought there were forty cameras in there and a mess of computers and the like, with four clocks standing watch over its own time zone. Instead, the room was almost empty except for two cameras. My thought was who is in charge in here anyways? Who keeps the time, the programming moving? I have never been very keen on reporters. One reporter in particular - a national reporter from CNN - really stood out last year when he decided to go wading thru flood waters down town. Law enforcement was not exactly pleased with him! These folks, however, seemed very enthusiastic and pleasant. Well, hopefully they wouldn't put a microphone under my nose.

Dinner was a simple BBQ. Hamburgers, hot dogs, chips, potato salad. Just enough to feed my tummy. Riding a big Harley is a great thing, but muscling around a 700 pound motorcycle can be a chore. I was hungry food was free - enough said! As we ate, however, I started seeing the faces - the weather guys, the sportscaster, and then the news anchors. Even a couple staff reporters. These are folks who live in front of the camera, who give us the news, weather, and sports. I am now talking to most of these folks as if we were chatting off some picket fence. Cool!

As the staff mingled with those of us in attendance, I was particularly struck by the humor of the evening. Poking fun at each other, talking about Donnie Osmond's loin cloth (OMG!), and the jovial nature that these people seemed to have even while doing their jobs. Why can't we all be this good natured? Why do we carry such heavy baggage emotionally? While I am sure that these folks have their bad days, it struck me as odd that these folks were funny, good natured, even poking fun at themselves. I have met reporters before, but these folks made my evening pleasant and relaxing!

So thank you KGAN - for giving my wife and I a pleasant evening!

Regards,
Boomer

Ghost Rider

Its the weekend. For some its the time of week to get a little wild, or maybe take the family to some distant location. Normally I don't get a real weekend as most would know it. What little free time I have is usually spent looking at the heavens with my telescope or on my Harley. Not sure what diagnosis I would get for that kind of combination. After all, most Harley guys are rebel rousing beer guzzling wild men, right? I noticed, however, that this weekend seems like a pause for some reflection.

The weekend began, as it were, with our usual date. A local diner, called Willy Woodburns, a place which was destroyed by floodwaters in 2008, reopened under the same management, and with all the same folks serving our meals. Since we had rain most of the week, I decided to meet my wife there on my Harley rather than take the truck with her. The fresh morning breeze served to clear my head of the morning cobwebs and helped to awaken my senses. On the ride to Willys, I noticed a woman on a Harley riding towards me, and the usual two finger peace sign was exchanged. I always love women riders, because for me, a woman can handle a bike just as good as anything else. When I arrived at Willys, our waitress, Mary, seemed in her usual cheery mood. She gives off this wonderful positive vibe, always has a smile, and always goes out of her way to make my wife and I feel at home. I wish that we all could see what kind of a person she is, because her presence lights up the place like a spotlight in the dark.

After breakfast, I took a short, 30 mile ride to nowhere. The magic of the bike is that I don't need a destination, but rather just to savor the journey of the road ahead. My thoughts, as it were, turned to many of the mindless drummings of bill paying, the weekly chores I had failed to do, and then thoughts of my Uncle Dale as I accelerated northward from town. I always sense he is there riding with me, but I miss Dale terribly. He taught many valuable lessons to me as a young boy, and although we never spoke much after I married, I always hoped him and I could jump on the bikes and ride off somewhere for a day. I did pull off the road to see if a friend of mine was home. Ken is a co member of the local astronomy club, a simple man whose interests seem to shadow mine at times. Unfortunately not home, so I turned the bike for home, and as I pulled into the driveway I was thankful for another successful ride.

A couple weeks ago I ordered a book. For me reading anything much beyond how to operate an IPod or program my new Blackberry Phone has been nothing more than a mindless chore. So many things to do and so little time. I enjoy my work immensly, and it gives me a certain satisfaction as I ride my Harley thru town and seeing people living in areas I have helped to develop. Reading books used to be a great joy for me. I would always find books such as Jack London or Clive Cussler, even Tom Clancy, whose penning "The Hunt for Red October" actually helped inspire me to join the Submarine Service. Then marriage came, and then children, and much of my time was then spent working, chasing diapers, moving around, and just not really settling in one place for very long. The joy of reading turned into the nightmares of parenthood, as fathering two daughters took center stage over life's other challenges. Anyone who says teenaged daughters are not a challenge hasn't experienced the horror of boys showing up looking like they had an argument with a nail gun wanting to date your child.

On occassion I did take time to read passages from the Bible. Even wrote a college paper on the ills of homosexuality during the Clinton Administration's effort to allow gays in the military. Unfortunately I never really took time for myself to really READ. Even my mother in law could find herself totally immersed in a good Louie L'Amour book, but reading for me became a lost treasure, until two weeks ago. The book I ordered is called "Ghost Rider" written a few years ago, an autobiographical sequence of how the author coped with the loss of both his 19 year old daughter and his wife in ten months. I chose this book for a couple of reasons. Besides the admiration I have had for the author since 1979, I wanted some sort of confirmation that my observations on my Harley were not just some sort of whimsical diplay of nature. Last October, while riding thru the countryside in Iowa, as the fall colors were in their prime, I noted 3 bald eagles standing "in kingly guise" almost as if watching the world as they ruled nature around me. It was a most provocative moment, and it made something move in me to put my observations down in some form for others to follow. The book also gives me ideas, places to go, how to "observe" and even what TO observe. The book helps me to understand what NOT to do, and maybe how to cope with losing a loved one in ways no one else might understand. It is a wonderful insight into life on a motorcycle, but more importantly, a reminder of how fragile our human spirit can be.

The book arrived Saturday, and I have read the first three chapters already! It feels wondrous to be this excited about a book - ANY book, but it also is a breath of fresh air. At times the book can be quite sad, but then it can be a wonderful repose of wit and wisdom. Music normally is my first joy. I used to play several musical instruments, but somewhere along the way, my father made me understand that life as a musician would be a huge undertaking, and that has always been my biggest regret. Music is creation, it is all those human emotions, it is art. I loved playing music as a boy, but many times nowadays I truly miss the art of making music. My hope is at some point in the future I can at least learn a new instrument such as guitar or banjo. Music in whatever form has healing powers, and thie book is evidence of that power.

May we all find peace!

Boomer

Oregon Trails

It is Wednesday, hump day for some, a cloudy day for us here. I had planned on grilling dinner, but unfortunately the GRILL had other ideas. While there are other ways to connect the grill to a gas source, we haven't progressed that far in my house yet, so making sure the TANK is full is imperitive. Potato pouch was only half cooked but the meat hadn"t touched the heat yet. We love our grill, though. Eating meals is much healthier and we feel better physically.



Lately I have pondered some things about our life here. It has been difficult to express as many can imagine. Many midwesterners spend their entire lives not more than 50 miles or so from the home they grew up in. Most tend to feel at ease with staying put, and for many there is a justification for that sort of life. Me, on the other hand have moved back and forth across the U.S. a few times. My whole life has pretty much been spent moving at one time or another. As a young boy I was taken from my parents at the age of 7 and placed in a foster home, and from there on I think I moved once every two or three years. It is not really the life I chose to live, let me assure you. Living as a gypsy has its down side and sometimes thats not a very comforting thing.



Since 1999 my wife and I have lived in Iowa. Before that we lived here from 1988 to 1997. We weren't planning on living here. I typically call Oregon my home. It is where my wife and I are happiest and it is where we wish to live out our last years with each other. It is where my wife and I met each other, and it is really where our hearts are. Many times we have travelled to places on the Oregon Coast, and many times we have spent our weekends picking the freshest fruits in the various fruit farms around Oregon. It is where we have always felt at peace with one another.



Living in Iowa has made me realize many dreams. We were finally able to afford things like that new four wheel drive, my Harley, a house we can call ours. I managed to get a two year degree here while working a full time job. We have been very fortunate here in that many of the trials facing a lot of Americans such as layoffs reduced pay foreclosure are things we have avoided up to this point. We have managed to hold on to our blessings and work our daughters thru school. We have found a number of faithful friends who bless us with their love. It has not been easy, though, as many family members have long since passed away, and health issues are becoming a bigger struggle.



Thus the dilemma my wife and I are faced with is probably something many people go thru in their lives. This is not really a "grass is greener over there" situation. After all we have lived in Oregon. Something is still tugging at us, though, and this is the dilemma we are faced with. At some point we were planning to return to Oregon after the passing of my wife's mother, but things just didnt work that way, and now with age becoming a factor it is beginning to look like we may never return. A few days ago I was riding my Harley thru town, a sort of customary ride after a bad night at the bowling alley. It occurred to me during that ride that my wife and I would struggle with this idea.



As I ride in the coming weeks I will ponder this dilemma. Hopefully God, in whatever manner we wish to call him, will reveal his intentions for our future.





Regards,


Boomer