A Year Later

As posted here earlier, our Clark was diagnosed with bone cancer, a day after his 3rd birthday it was confirmed. We prepared ourselves for what we thought was the inevitable. Deciding that keeping him whole and not going with radical treatments that would likely kill him if the disease didn't was most important. I believe early detection was key. Eve's hawk eyes spotted a problem with Clarky's gate when I couldn't tell anything being wrong. Usually, this is first spotted after the bone breaks, which almost always results in the dog being put down. Thanks to our "Fairy Dogmother", she was right on top of it before it got too far along.

So, Eve started him on a natural-pathic regimine of herbs, supplements and vitamins. Combined with exercise, lots of love and affection (and a special spot on our bed @ night!). We made a couple of trips to the beach. To watch him run free through the surf was a wonderful sight, he truly enjoyed every moment of it. So did we and secretly hoped that this wouldn't be his last trip.

Even with chemo, amputation and other "traditional" treatments we were given no guarantees, a year "maybe". This same bone cancer affects humans and is usually a death sentence. It was very important to us to keep him comfortable and make his remaining days as pain free as possible and just love him as much as we could with the short time we had left together. Every time I looked @ his puppy pictures my heart ached, like my chest were ripped open.

Much to our surprise he responded well. I took him on supervised trips outside so he could get some fresh air and move around a little bit. He sure looked good and it was hard to get him to slow down because he wanted to run. I could tell he felt good too (much to our unease when he'd cut loose running!). We attributed some of that to the pain meds, but he never gave much indication that it bothered him, other than stopping to lick @ his front legs. Summer came and he was still doing very well. Eve took him to the holistic vet where we got his supplement plan from, and he was shocked to see how well Clark was doing. His leg showed no signs of a tumor, disfigured or warm to the touch, nor was he favoring it.

Eve then took him to the Wazzu vet for radiation treatment in August on the tumor itself to help with pain. Much to our (and theirs) surprise they told us that his cancer was "resolving" so he did not need further treatment other than what we've already been doing. It had not spread beyond his leg into his lungs or other organs and you could see the lesion had lessened significantly from his original diagnosis. The bone has a much more normal shape to it. Today you cannot tell there is a problem.

Here we are now January 2011. We thought for sure he would never see last summer, let alone the new year. I recall the look on Eve's face when she told me about Clarks cancer, tears flowed over her devastation. I felt her pain and it made me angry considering what we've already been through with Lewis. Like a bruising heart punch, it hit hard.

He's our miracle boy. He is one of five known dogs to have a spontaneous reversal of osteo-sarcoma, according to the Wazzu vets.

Here he is, with us today. Our watcher, our guardian, our safe keeper; begging in the kitchen for a dab of peanut butter and jam. Curling up in front of the fire place on a cold wintery night, "asking" before jumping onto the bed. All the things we never thought we'd see again. It cost a great deal of money, but it's an investment that has returned a huge profit. We gambled on love and it paid off like we never believed it could.

Our boy is alive and well again. He is cancer free and running with the same vigor and abandon that he once had.

We are free of the grief we were facing with the idea of losing him so young. Now, we have a chance to see him grow old and gray. This is winning our lottery. It's been a year now, Clark turns four this month. I think he's due for a really big celebration. So are we, followed soon by another trip to the Oregon Coast with our boys, Lewis and Clark.

Times they are a changin'

Time to wake up!!!!!!!!!!!


It's been a while since I've shown my face in here, I feel it's time to move on from this depression like slumber and get to writing full time. This blog has gone a bunch of different directions, from comedy, to politics, to rants, to serious kinds of stuff. I am going to move on to another blog soon (on Wordpress) and will post it when it becomes active. All future posts will belong there.

The new blog will be more robust, allowing me to separate my blog into categories/subjects so as not to get them all mixed together.

I am a writer trapped in the telecommunications brain. Things have to change. They must for me to keep my sanity (or get some!)

Life Cubed

"We don't have a lot of time on this earth. We weren't meant to spend it this way. Human beings were not meant to sit in little cubicles staring at computer screens all day, filling out useless forms and listening to eight different bosses drone on about mission statements".

Peter Gibbons


So true! I have spent more time than I care to admit residing in my dinky cubicle doing exactly that. I admit that I don't have 8 bosses, but only two. Cubicles are to offices as mobile homes are to housing. Managers get their own BIG cubicle to work in, maybe even a window. So lucky they are. The corporate life matches the decor. Don't get me wrong, I am thankful to be working these days but I wonder for how long? How long before my company is sold, bought out or bankrupted?

I work for a large telecom firm that has been tightening it's belt for quite some time now, at least for the time I've been here. It's painfully obvious they could do things so much better, yet they won't listen to any suggestions seriously, and the only advice they do attempt to listen to is making staff fill out those idiotic corporate surveys which get talked about and forgotten within a few months. My fellow co-workers and I proposed a work from home plan, that would actually save money. Unfortunately, it was poo-pooed as being "too expensive". Corporate ran a "Going Green" campaign, which spefiically mentions work from home. I responded in kind. The reply? "The final decision is up to your local management". Pure fucking GENIUS!!!

The building I work in is for sale. Plans are in place to then lease space back for our cubicles. We were shuffled off the 26th floor, down to the 5th floor. Doesn't sound like much, until you look out the window. Before there were stunning views of downtown Seattle, and Elliot Bay to at least help you cope with cubicle life. I got to watch some killer fireworks from the Space Needle, reflected upon Lake Union. Now it's Gordon Biersch and alot of concrete walls, if you can see through the thick layers of crud on the windows that hasn't been cleaned since we've moved, a year and a half ago. Due do the shakey economy, it has not sold, with one agreement falling through. So, here we sit, not too unlike turds in a big ol toilet bowl, waiting to be flushed at some point down the line.

Now I know what Milton felt like being shipped down to the basement and assigned rodent control duties.

I find it rather humorous, if not aggravating that I have a 50 mile round trip commute that at times is fraught with nasty weather and usually includes shitty traffic on the clearest sunny day to do a job that is done 100% remotely, off premise. All I need is a high speed connection, computer and phone and I am good to go. Pretty much what I have right now in my teeny tiny cubicle. I don't need to be sitting on a beach like commercials show their customers doing. Working in a home office seems to make more sense to me. I NEVER see my customers or their equipment, rarely do I see any of the field techs that I dispatch. Funny, I can say nearly the same thing about my boss, who has a nice big cubicle with a corner window just down the hall from me!

So, as I try and wade through all of this be ready for more writings from the cube. As I look for work elsewhere, to escape the rat race. Call 'em modern day cave drawings. Call it therapy.

More to follow....

Bloody April

April 20th is looming.


It makes me wonder what is going to happen. The ugliness on display over the last year turns my stomach to even think about it. Racism is alive and well in America. Cursing and spitting on public servants, one whom walked with Martin Luther King Jr. A man who stood up and got mowed down for social justice.

...And I've looked over, and I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you, but I want you to know tonight that we as a people will get to the promised land. So I'm happy tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man.

Sarah Palin putting shooting targets on a map of Democratic Senators, distorting "Death Panels", yapping about teleprompters while writing talking points on her hand. This woman is such a PHONY, it amazes me that anyone could possibly believe anything she has to say. All you have to do is agree with her and the lies/facts make absolutely no difference. This kind of Conservatism is a blight, nay cancer on our society. There is no way we would survive with that kind of mantra. It's all lies, built on hypocrisy and denial. Obama could cure cancer, and Sarah would scold him for it.

"..you are entitled to your own set of opinions, but you are not entitled to your own set of facts"

Al Franken

I'm all for standing on my own two feet. Been doing it all my adult life. I'm also for having a soft place to land if I get knocked off my two feet. Before health care reform, our system was a travesty where the rules and regulations were made by those who ran the insurance industry. Profiting in such a way off of my health while getting rid of those who are not healthy is the ultimate evil to me. Out of a moral responsibility we have to our fellow citizens. Our Constitution provides for the general welfare of it's citizens, if having basic medical care does not qualify as that, then what does?

It galls me to see cons and neo-cons all of a sudden take interest in the Constitution when it comes to taxes and "big government" after ignoring it when the 1st, 4th, 6th, 8th and 9th Amendments were so thoroughly trampled and trod upon by our previous administration. The outrage for those here to fix the massive problems pales in comparison to those who actually led us here.

Apparently, the opposition to health care reform prefers private insurance getting in between you and your doctor and not covering you for anything deemed pre-existing. What is your recourse? Ever try shopping for health care outside of your job? What if you wanted to start a small business? All of our money goes to them and we get very little in return and it only gets worse if we do nothing about it.

Why should my ability to be covered by reasonable insurance depend upon my employment with a large corporation? The system is totally unfair! Yet morons are screaming "Socialism"!! when a good lot of them receive some sort of government assistance in one form or another. Good lord people, your ignorance is showing for all to see! Please refrain from calling yourself a "Christian Nation". Words and actions do not match.

But mostly, what I find extremely affronting is the notion that the US Govt is designed to cut a profit like a corporation when in fact it was designed to protect my rights and from the likes of big corporations. They have a very shakey history in my opinion, where they used to choose to do as they please, pay very little, profit very mightily for the good of no one. Now they have the same rights as citizens when it comes to political campaign donations, thanks to our Supreme Court. I wish I had the kind of deep resources a corporation does so my voice can be heard.

Go back a century and you will know why people like Teddy Roosevelt came up with the idea of an Estate Tax. He knew the perils of the concentration of wealth on society. There are examples repeating all through history. When a very small percentage of the population owns most of the wealth, bad things happen.

I feel our government has been turned into a corporation. That everything has a price, including my health. I don't believe the Reagan philosophy about big government. It has to be big so it can be far reaching and can actually do good where corporations fall far short. Our history is full of examples of such, yet they go ignored in the argument over profit. It's not perfect, but we got time to make things right.

With these rampaging thoughts in my mind, I shudder for this country when I look back at Aprils past and consider what could possibly happen before this one is over. The Michigan Christian Militia group looking to shoot at police? Amazingly enough, white folk make killer terrorists too. They just read from a different book. Even more astonishing is knowing what Jesus had to say in the limited time we got to know him, would totally and completely contradict this kind of behavior towards our brothers and sisters.

I do support the health care reform effort. I think it can be better, it needs more work. I do not support the bloody violence that always seems to accompany our quest for social justice. The first April since it passed will be telling. I pray for peace. If you lost the election, well then that's just how it goes. If you win, you can make the rules. I would expect some type of cooperation for those that didn't for the good of the country more than the good of one's party.

Please people, get informed, listen to all opinions and have some patience because we all have to live here. Different or same, that's just the way it is. It's not a reason to hate, harm or kill each other.

Clark

He's a good boy. Loyal, loving and a wonderful friend. He has a way to soothe souls, calm nerves and bring joy that no one else can. He loves life and still plays like a puppy. His warm, brown eyes gaze at you and melts your heart, especially when they are peering over the edge of your plate. He's alert to any sound that comes from the kitchen, either the clatter of their food dishes or the unscrewing of the peanut butter jar.

He lives in the moment, today. Right now. Tomorrow doesn't even occur to him, until it arrives. His stomach clock is set to 7 am & 5 pm. He runs & chases but loves being chased the most. Squirrels are his arch enemy, birds are very interesting, hearing a duck quack makes his head tilt with curiosity, as if he knows what the means, but he's never been a hunter or heard a gun shot for all I know.

He leaves piles of fur wherever he goes, providing more evidence of his existence. Under each ear his hair is puppy soft and will melt in your hands if you scratch him there. He grunts and growls in his sleep, as his legs twitch and spasm. He barks at the neighbor who rides bicycle down his driveway, or the squirrel playing hide and seek with him in the shed. He's even spotted the hot air balloons that sail over head in the summer time.

He's Eve's assistant when she's working with other dogs. He knows what to do, with patience and firmness. He would never bite you in anger, unless you are sneaking into his house and you don't identify yourself. You can almost read his face to see his emotions. 

I love him and make every moment count with him because he's dying. He's got bone cancer. He's only 3 years old. It's not fair. The vet said 3 months, we’re over 2 months since. He looks really good, still eats well, goes for his walks and little jaunts around the yard. He’s still full of life.

Life is not fair and you have to learn to take what it gives you or it will drive you mad, insane, angry and isolated. I Know I am less afraid of death, considering who has gone before me, or who will.

I Love You Clark - Every moment I can. I will be there for you, to whatever end because I know you would do the same for me, without even thinking about it. Because you are living in the moment and know who loves you. Tomorrow is not your concern.

"Washing out mouths with a .357"

I heard this from a fellow co-worker today who is "all upset" about where our country is going. After he said it, I sat stunned in suspended silence wondering how or if I should respond.

My first thought was my response;

"I prefer to settle our political differences with ballots, not bullets".

"But we're becoming socialists!" was the reply.

"How"? was my query.

"Health care reform!"

I about lost it but kept my cool, I seriously tire of these kinds of words because they are flat out WRONG when describing that effort.

"How"? again was my response.

"Because it's all mandatory and I don't want to pay for some fucking deadbeat's health coverage!" Came the ugly words steeped in heavy ignorance. "It was forced down our throats!".

"Seriously? I take it you didn't vote for Obama?"

"HELLO NO!" as the anger rose like thick black smoke.

"So then you'd be surprised to know that 'mandatory coverage' was originally a Republican idea, before they were against the very same idea when it came from Obama's lips? And seriously, speaking of being forced down ones throat, I'm still choking on the Iraq War rationale with no explanations for the obvious fuck ups that cost Americans not only trillions but a helluva lot of blood."

"Huh?" came the voice, but not so full of conviction now.

"Yeah, I didn't support that effort; Mislead into war on shakey, cooked up intelligence, financed by tax cuts for those who can afford them. Can you give me an accounting for what we spent there?"

Before I could get another response, came another question;

"Do you think that health care needs to be reformed?"

"Well, yes, but not like this!"

"Well, yes I would agree with you to a point. But realize this, we would not be talking about health care reform if it wasn't for Obama. Republicans think that letting private insurance profit off of my health is okay. That pre-existing conditions, life time payout caps, co-pays and deductables are just how the health industry works and that my only affordable choices are through my employer. Now, those things are of the past and the Republicans voted no all down the line, just to protect private insurers. NOT ME!. So, before you aim that .357, make sure you have your facts straight. Personally, I'd rather talk things out than shoot them out."

"But we had no say!"

"Then WTF were all those town halls about and Republicans being invited to speak directly with the President to talk about our options? There was plenty of say."

"We weren't heard!"

"Seriously, I stopped listening when the opposing argument depicted a black man in effigy as Hitler. The rabid, and so far that I can see, all WHITE population screamed about Nazi Germany and socialism. That's crazy hypocritical shit. I have not forgotten who was in charge when our economy veered over a cliff (nor who supported him blindly), and it was NOT Obama. You need better reasoning than that for me to believe there's a reason why we shouldn't reform".

"But, but"

"Really dude. Where's the outrage for those who put us here? If anyone dared to speak ill of Bush, it made one a "Bush Hater". There was  time that we weren't even supposed to question the President during war time. Now, we call him a liar when he's speaking to the full congressional chamber. Explain that one to me."

"Well, I guess. But..."

If you cannot logically explain it to me as to where I can understand your point and in return you refuse to listen to me, ignoring and denegrating me in the process while scrambling for your guns, then don't be too surprised no one listens to you. You are wrong and attempt to overcome your faults with brute force upon your foes. There's been plenty of talk on this subject. It's not the results I was hoping for and quite frankly,  disappointed that we did not get a Public Option. But I guess this is a start. We certainly could not continue down the same heath care path, being put into the trust of private insurance, who's primary concern is their bottom line and not my health. It didn't take much study on the subject to know that unhealthy people are not profitable and are pushed out of the system or put on outrageously expensive plans with little to no coverage, and no other options.'

"Whoa, I guess you've been studying this then?"

"Yes I have for years, and my weapon has remained holstered the whole damn time! There's a reason why Republicans lost both houses of congress and the White House. They have themselves to blame, and until they recognize that fact they are going NOWHERE."

"Well, I still don't agree"

"No shit, but don't expect everyone to feel as you do. I'm an American too and I think our health care system was seriously flawed and immoral. Win an election and make the changes you deem necessary. Until then ABIDE BY THE RESULTS! (like I had to for 8 years under Bush). That's why I think the founding fathers made freedom of speech the 1st Amendment, and the right to bear arms the 2nd. So please, put down your fucking guns!

"Um, well yeah", came the voice, more calm but puzzled now.

'Let me tell you a story, I will try to keep it short. A very good friend of mine works for a govt agency that does minor home repairs for low income seniors. He see's all kinds of people in desperate conditions. Some in serious need some just assholes. Many are stuck in a sad and stressful situations, deciding between rent and paying for prescriptions or food. This is one story that made it very clear to me that health care must be reformed, must be affordable to all who need it and not run as a greed driven corporation with million/billion dollar executives at the wheel.";

In one run down, dumpy, low rent mobile court lived an old man with his wife. As the friend of mine was in their home doing his work, he noticed a really cool framed, large photo of a bunch of people standing around an actual space shuttle, from NASA. The old man noticed my friend looking it over.


"That's me", said the frail old voice as a boney finger pointed out a strapping young man in the group. My friend looked at him and back at the picture completely puzzled. "I was an engineer that helped design the original shuttle, that's the team I was on", he said rather proudly.


"But how did you end up here? asked my friend in astonishment.


"I got sick" he replied.

Please God No, not in Christian America!!!!

That's basically where my convo with my fellow employee ended and I'm sure I gave Mr 357 something to think about.

This could happen to anybody, it already has to countless thousands or even millions. Any hardworking, independent person seeking the American dream could end up just existing while their lives were ruined because their insurance let them down when they got sick.

IMMORAL!

So, complain all you want about the current state of affairs with health care. It is no where near as bad as the path we were on. You cannot be turned down due to pre-exisitng conditions. Now I want a public option to keep costs down and in check.

Please America, your love affair with guns scares me. Please use common sense. Please only use your gun if absolutely necessary.

Now is not one of those times, rarely is it ever.

Where do I go from here?

Time keeps on moving by and all I can do is sit and watch or duck and not even pay attention as it passes. I've abandoned my attempts to write while being taken in by my new Facebook page. There's been a distinct drop off in posts since I joined. It's fun and I like catching up to old acquaintences but it becomes addicting and has also kept me from following my true passions.

I have to find a way to get to that New Path I'm seeking. Days I wonder if I have it in me, others I know that writing is the way for me to get onto that path, and away from the one that is obviously wrong for me. Sort of hard to do in middle age, but sometimes you are reborn, or better yet, your true self comes out after you've had to fight your way down the wrong path.

I love writing about politics, as is shown in my previous works here. Lately it has been too depressing for me to follow and I don't want it to bring me down. Life in general has been tough and has taken it's toll on me, which has affected my ability to change paths. I can always come up with reasons not to, yet I love to write. I wish so much that writing was the path I started on because that is truly where my interests lie. I learn all about the technical world that I work in and become quite proficient, but not very fulfilled, which later leads to unhappiness which is where my trail has led me to.

There's a story about our trip to California that I took as a kid here on my blog, never finished. Seems to be the story of my life; I start something but get destracted or lose interest and never finish. I need to find the drive and energy to get me there instead of parking my ass on the couch and channel surfing or updating Facebook. Some way to make it happen.

Joseph Campbell is/was so right when you seek your bliss. When you find it, it no longer becomes work but your life and everything flows. In technical terms, you get maximum power from source to load with your impedence (resistance) matches. I hate work, it gives me too much stress and little to no satisfaction. It does help pay my way, but being on the corporate payroll knowing that the company could be sold and my job gone, espeically in these tough economic times. Having control over my path, instead of being led down one is where I will find my bliss. How to write and make a living when I've never done anything of the like before is rather daunting. But I am weary of the stress and anxiety that comes with being on the wrong path. It's a constant fight and struggle for your livelihood. A double edged sword, I can totally live without my job for the rest of my life, yet I can't because of the committments I have made. It's more than just me.

So, where do I go from here? What do I write about? Along with writing I really enjoy making people laugh and feel my sense of humor is another area of bliss to seek out. Life is hard, having a laugh makes it easier to get through. I am so thankful that I can provide for my family and that we do have a warm, safe place to sleep and get away from the masses where we are fed and find ourselves again.

How do I do these things, to follow my bliss and keep my life in order? Can I make the change or am I predestined to stay on this unhappy trail? It starts with changing who I am, finding the strength and courage to do it, and the stamina to take it the distance.

This post isn't really for anybody but myself. Are you on your right path, or is the path leading you elsewhere? Have you ever considered that you are actually on one in the first place? Those are the questions I would ask of you. I ask them of me all the time. But action is what's needed. All the talking in the world won't get there.

I plan on sticking to my strengths and will continue with politcal commentary as well as the comedy that life can be. Politics are wide and varied, beliefs are common yet many unalike. I feel I must speak on behalf of my country when I see fellow citizens misapplying it's intended purpose and meaning. Distorting our past and how we got here.

Maybe there's some stand up comedy in me, I need to know that. To do so, I must overcome internal fears of who I am and that rejection is a distinct possiblity but know that it's okay if you feel you are doing your best.

All I know is, that I cannot continue down this current path. I see no future, as if it drops right off a cliff. There is a path within sight, but it's rough and not very clear. It's gonna take work.

Dear God, please give me strength to make it so.

Bill

Proud To Be An American

From January 19, 2010;



I loved watching the President take one Republican talking point after another and without hesitation, answer with conviction and state his purpose while returning the fire. Yet again, asking for cooperation from a room full of do-nothings, but this time laying on the line. This has to be the best hour I've spent in quite some time. This is something certainly that his predecessor could not do; think and speak on his feet in a room full of political opponents, all by himself. Cons whine and complain about being left out of the process, when that's exactly what they were doing when they held the government firmly in their grip under Bush. They did it their way and now America is suffering the results. Tax cuts do little to keep people working and do wonders to create mind boggling deficits while a few profit ungodly amounts.

I've lived the conservative mantra, locally and nationally, seen it's results know that it is wrong for this country. Again and again it's proven to me and yet the Republicans while foaming at the mouth aggressive on the attack, turn into pathetic whining sore losers who are more concerned about the well being of their party than the country they love so much when they are called out. Pathetic Fox News wouldn't cover the whole Q&A, cutting away during the discussion, later bad mouthing about his treatment of those poor white folk. Obviously it made Republicans look very bad, but I think they stopped showing it because the typical Fox viewer would lose interest after a few minutes, and Obama took thrashed them for over an hour. Most wouldn't be able to stick with anything that long unless it were a stock car race anyways.

It's been a damn long time since I've felt proud of my country and I applaud my president!

Hell Freezes Over - Going Boldly Into That Good Night!

 Grass Mountain Microwave Radio Site

Ok, I've been away. I admit it, I've been smitten with FB lately and have gotten away from my writing. I need to return my focus to writing and less virtual social graces. (GOOD LUCK!).

After a recent discussion with a good friend of mine, recalling to me to the winter of 97/98 spent while working for Northwest Microwave in Yakima, Wa. I decided to use the many events of that year as fresh material to write about, to get the juices flowing and try to find my bliss.

That winter was one for the ages, starting with a dastardly storm in November that dropped 18" of snow in one November night that followed with an ice storm right on it's heels dumping 2" of freezing rain on top of it, basically imobilizing everything in it's path. Many flat roof's came down that year, along with sheared off power poles that split under the strain. I got called out to our Rattlesnake Mtn site which took me away from home for three days, chasing my ass into a powerless radio site in the middle of nowhere, on the edge of the Hanford Nuclear Res. We were buried all winter. At home, and in the mountains the horrible weather lasted well into spring when I got caught in a late May snow of cascade cement, putting a foot and a half over the top of a partially melted base of solid ice and frozen snow. The only good thing about that winter was that I lost over 30 #'s.

This particular event happened during that winter at one of Northwest Microwave's (NMI) radio sites located on Grass Mountain, just east of Enumclaw. Some of the details are a little hazy, I've tried to forget about them, but there were some rather humorous events that occurred along the way. Maybe my friend, Dave, whom I met while working @ NMI will help me to recall some of these events too, *WINK*.

Based out of Yakima, I was to meet up with our Seattle Tech; Dave MacDonald and go up to the Grass Mountain just after that first major snow/ice winter weather event of the season. Grass is off highway 410 by about 10 miles on private timber land east of Enumclaw. Most of the route is logging road maintained by the company that owns the property, but the last 1/2 mile is not. NMI provided "snowmobiles" to get in and out. Although, their idea of "snowmobile" left a lot to be desired considering their condition. These mules looked (and ran) as if they had been beaten bloody under a heavy load. If I had a gun with me, I would have done the honorable thing and....

If there is too much snow, like this season, the last couple of miles of access are not plowed and the top is only accessable via some kind of snow machine. From there, you can go via the road or there is a short cut up the hill that follows the power lines. It's a fun ride on a snowmobile and that's the route we took my first trip up the hill. Dave actually got a new snowmobile to break in that winter, but he said it was undersized/powered for what the job requires after repeatedly cursing about working for a "real company". Not only do you have to drag all your gear up the hill, usually you're pulling a sled carrying a few hundred pounds of test equipment. The machine needs some umph to haul up and across the hillsides to get to where you need to go, alive I might add.

I never really rode a snowmobile all that much so I needed a little 101 on not only how it operates, as well as how to load, haul and unload it too. I did take the it out a couple of times in Yakima to get used to it. That was rather cool, getting paid to learn how to ride a snowmobile! Dave was very supportive. While showing me the finer points of unloading I sorta paused a little to take it all in. Dave looked up at me and yelled; "Quit gawking Pickard, and help me pull your ****ing sled off the trailer"!

What a great teacher, ol Dave. Mr Patience, instilling his confidence in me.

Finally, the sled loaded and hitched to the beast of a snowmobile. We were off on a mostly gray day, not snowing, but plenty every where you looked. Dave shot out of the parking area like a rocket and I tried to do the same thing with my machine. It was akin to stepping on a sponge, as there was a lull between the throttle and actual acceleration. Up the road we went, sailing along on this gray overcast day without the heavy snows, I was able to keep Dave in my sights.

Off the road we went onto the power line shortcut. My heart pumped as the wind blew in my face. The trail was rather fun. It was easy to spot Dave and follow the path. We zipped right on up the hill to the top, just below the radio site, where the road crests over the peak and is not plowed from there. We paused there because the rest of the trip in could be sort of dicey due to a hillside we had to cross, which ended in a hard right turn that shot up steeply to the site. I remember Dave's advice; "Let me go first, give yourself some room, gas it hard, stand on the uphill side of your sled and don't stop until you get to the top. DO NOT STOP!" He emphasized before screaming off to what must be the road, although I couldn't tell through all the drifts, all I could see was a white line through the trees. By this time, we were up in the clouds too, making depth preception rather difficult.

I gassed it and followed up two short hills next to the huge power line towers and off to the left before cutting right and following Dave's tracks because I could no longer see him through the gray mist. It sort of opened up onto a long sidehill, on a gentle climb but with a steep pitch sloping away to my left. I put both feet on the up hill rail and gave it all she had. Glancing across the seat while speeding along, I could see down the hill, a long, long, ways and also saw what Dave meant. If you stop, there's no place to turn around. You go too slow and the machine sinks right into the deep snow and gets stuck forcing you to dig your way out. I could feel the heavy sled reluctantly following me as I had it at full throttle, my butt now dragging in the snow on the uphill side.

Needless to say, my heart was pumping and I knew that the hard bank turn was coming just as I hit the thickest part of the cloud bank and couldn't see much past the windshield. Around the corner I went and prayed I had enough, but I lost traction about 2/3 the way up at a turn off to another radio site just below ours and started to dig into the snow. That was it, no farther foward so I shut things down. I pulled off the heavy cases holding the test eqpt and had to drag each one the rest of the way up hill. Then I jumped on the snowmobile rode the rest of the way to the top, cutting a wide 180 around so I was facing back towards the road I came up on and broke through the clouds. Sweating, damp & panting, I looked up after shutting down the sled. My eyes feasted on the view.

We were just above the cloud layer in the sun! Brilliant blue sky over head, Mt Rainer crowding my backdrop and a fluffy gray/white layer as far as I could see at my feet in every direction. A few snowy peaks poked above like tops of bald heads. I felt like I could have walked right out onto it. One of the coolest things I'd ever seen. What a nice reward for the hard work to get there.
We were co-located at this site with the Dept of Natural Resources (DNR) who had a two way radio repeater. NMI's radio room was a small crackerbox in one corner. Dave gave me the nickel tour and I got the test eqpt. out to do the PM. By the time we finished that afternoon, darkness was coming in quickly. We loaded up and made for our trucks. Dave said that we'd take the power line road back down again and just to follow him out.

By the time we took off, it started to snow as the sun dropped under the clouds. When we made it back down to the road, fifty cent sized snowflakes were pelting me. My goggles were getting coated and as I sweated, they would get fogged up easily, even with the best anti-fog spray. You had to keep moving to keep them clear. We stopped briefly before sailing back down the road into the snowy night. I could see Dave's red light on the back of his snowmobile, that's how I kept tabs with him. I couldn't seen anything else but the flying snow out of the dark sky as it hit my lights. If I followed too closely I got the wash off of his track so I had to back off a bit. Did Dave? HELL NO!!!

I kept up with him okay until we hit the power line trail and he friggen took off like a bullet. I had a hell of a time keeping up, the sled bouncing and tipping, me nearly blind from all the flying snow. Still I could see the little red dot in front of me. Going much faster than I felt comfortable with to keep up as it kept getting smaller and smaller if I backed off. It would disappear around a corner, then I'd see it as I cleared the next corner, only to see it disappear again. Snow filled my face and goggles, torn between terror and anger I kept going and following the red dot until I couldn't see it anymore. Another corner, no red dot. Next corner, no dot but tons of snow flying.

I slowed, now more pissed than scared. "That son of a bitch!" I yelled. Now, slowly moving along, trying to see tracks through the white out. Here I am, all alone on a dark, wintery hillside that I know very little of. I could DIE! Around another corner I turned and nearly ran over Dave who just getting upright after dumping his snowmobile on it's side, along with his sled carrying the test eqpt. I stopped my machine and shut it off just past the wreck, and sang him a four letter serenade greeting. He just laughed at me, so I just sat there and caught my breath while I let him right his snowmobile and load his sled again by himself. Lucky for him I wasn't going ludicris speed or I woulda probably left treadmarks all over him.

After a bit more animated discussion, we made it back down to our trucks without any other problems. It was still snowing pretty good as we loaded the snowmobiles onto our trailers. Dave suggested stopping at a watering hole in Enumclaw, called "The Mint".

I have to say, those were the damn tacos I've ever eaten. Behind the bar is a row of micro brew taps, 25 or so if I remember correctly. The beer flowed, the food scarffed down, warming our bodies back to feeling. It was a pleasant, fuzzy walk back to my hotel room (about a block and a half from The Mint). It was snowing hard still, but my pace was slow and measured while I crossed the street just after a pickup went by. I noticed the red tail lights and felt relieved that I knew exactly where I was going even with a buzz on.

DAMROD

Well, I've been neglecting my blog in favor of my new Facebook page. So I need to get back on the write track. FB is a nice break but it can eat up all your time and it can be rather mindless too. I am addicted to FarmTown, I admit that freely!

This time of year I'm also in a fantasy football league. It's Yahoo's free version. If I played for $$$ I'd be a poor man. This is just for bragging rights; of which I am in third place out of twelve teams, leading big in overall points, with my sights on the top spot.

So, I've been distracted and a tad lazy, needing a kick in the ass to get going. Please forgive my absence. With The Kinks cranked, I can create.


Recently I encountered a once in a life time event. Seriously strange, never seen ANYTHING like it as it totally interrupted my life for a few hours. It made me realize how much I count on the ease of communications that comes with today's technology. It put me on a journey I never intended to take, to places I've never been before, but had liked to visit sometime perhaps. I wish I could have enjoyed it more.

Kinda like Gilligans Isle; I left for a short trip that turned into an eternity. I was so close to home, but so far away when nature flexed her awesome might. I marvel at her ability to control and override mankind.

My journey began on Saturday, October 10th, 2009 at midnight, 12:00 AM. I left after work and made for my parents who live along Chinook Pass on the east slopes of the Cascade Mountains. "Dear Mountain" as I know it. As close to heaven and God as I've ever been taking in it's wild natural beauty. It's hard to see the hand of man there. I love it. More trees than people. More deer than most ever get to see.

The ride over the pass is very nice, even in the dark. Highway 410 winds it's way into Rainier National Park and crests at approx. 4,500 ft. Driving it at night takes patience. You can easily be the only one on the highway, in car moving vehicle that is. Night time driving requires a slower pace unless you'd like to have a 2,000# elk hood ornament. It happens quite a bit and I can tell you, it's not very pleasant. It's much easier to just slow down a bit. 50 mph is about right.

I saw the first critter on the west side, just above the Cayuse pass jct; A bull elk, with an enormous rack, appeared in my headlights on a tight hairpin turn. He darted up the bank in a split second into the darkness. Coming down the other side I saw many more elk, some cows hanging around along the side of the road. Below there came plenty of deer. Slow as you go to save a life, or lives.


Okay, so I made it to the folks around 3 am and crashed hard (only in a nice soft bed). Dad and I spent Saturday cutting/hauling wood. Talk about a great work out and it's sorta fun to play with the big boys toys. We winched logs off the hillside, sawed 'em into 16" pieces. The best part was launching them with gusto into ol Franken Dodge, Dad's green monster. The pile of shit on wheels; a 1979 Dodge Powerwagon (club cab) death trap; Duck shit green, dented, no tailgate or bumper, a drivers door that opens (and shuts) with a kick, cracks and what looks like bullet holes in the windshield. You can see earth below you when driving. Until Dad slipped in the metal plate there was no place to rest your heel when pressing the gas. It starts up in a blue cloud, disappears in one too.

DODGE = Dear Old Dad's Green Enigma or Dads Old Duckshit Green Enigma...either way, you get the point.

Every piece of wood that bounced and smacked into ol Franky improved it's already sharp looks. I've hit that thing with wood, ice (snow balls), a sledgehammer, splitting maul, logs, poles, my foot, rocks and just about anything else you can pick up and throw. Dad loves it as a utility rig. I hate it because it's a big piece of shit, but even more because I don't want something to snap and send Dad over the bank. I abuse the hell out of it when I drive it too. The sooner it dies, the better I'll feel. Like this time, I got tired of the sticking drivers door and drove it around with the door open. I could get it to shut by coming close to the bank or a tree...

Okay, enough of Franky and wood. I had been in recent contact with a long time friend of mine. We made plans to get together for a beer or something. After a day of high activity, I chose to stay in, so we decided to get together for breakfast at the Woodshed restaurant on Sunday morning around 8:30. I've known Tim since kindergarten and we've managed to keep in touch after not being so for quite some time. I love the man. He's damn funny and we share a history that very few have.

I drug my lazy butt out of bed on crisp Sunday morning, grabbed some coffee and the keys to Mom's nice new Jeep Wrangler. Now, there's a Chrysler product that's worth keeping, unlike Franky. It's a Jeep, it's green and it's a Jeep! The day greeted me with 20 degrees and a brilliant clear blue sky. Reminding me again of why I love the country there.

Just a few miles down the road the highway was closed. A big sign announced the closure, a bigger DOT truck blocked both lanes at the Upper Nile Loop Rd turn off. Somewhat puzzled I turned onto the loop road and made for the Woodshed, which is located at the lower end of the Nile Loop. I must have driven that gravel road a thousand times or more. Very familiar, although the county is in the process of widening, straightening and paving it.

As I made my way down to lower end, about a 1/2 mile from the Woodshed, I saw a group of people standing along the road in a place where it runs right along the river, where you can see the 410 highway across it. A sheriff had his lights on too. Since I've been a kid, as long as I can remember I would always look across the river there when traveling by. This time, I thought mine eyes were failing me. I could not believe it. The highway was gone, replaced by an enormous bank. Pieces of the highway were twisted and broken up along it's edge.

I pulled into the parking lot at the restaurant and saw that the WSP had the highway closed. A large low hanging brownish cloud in the distance along the ridge on the other side of the highway looked extremely out of place on this dry clear fall day. Upon closer inspection it was not a cloud of vapor. It was dust. Once inside the restaurant the watiress said that a landslide had started there the previous evening, causing some damage to a garage and forcing people from their homes.

Amazed, I sat and waited for Tim. I struck up a conversation with a couple sitting at the next table. They were just as bemused about this landslide business as I was. Tim then arrived and we had breakfast, catching up on recent events, recalling past times and being generally crude, sick and twisted with the innocence of two 10 year old boys (that's what Mom said anyways after I called him).

After filling on saugage and eggs, as well as great conversation we decided to go to my folks since Tim has never been there before. Tim was kind enough to pay for the meal while I tipped the watiress and we left. Once in the parking lot we noted many more people arriving on the scene to gawk. Tim recognized a former co-worker and were briefly chatting when I heard what sounded like a huge crash. Looking up along the ridgeline above the slide it looked as if mountain shivered like a cow shaking off  flies.

One long horizontal line began to move downward. Rocks the size of houses tumbling down before being totally obscured by dust. I've heard rockslides before. It's a sound I have a hard time describing other than crashing and smashing. Just then another State Trooper came rolling up in his patrol car and told everyone to evacuate the area now. Someone next to me said they had just closed the Nile Loop road because it was buckling and water from the river was starting to come across. I nearly crapped my pants. That's the only way back, other than by mountain road or highway 12 detour that would take a couple of hours.

We obeyed the Stater and took off for Naches, where I was going to call my Dad. I realized on the way I left my cell phone at Mom and Dads because there's no service up the pass. We stopped along the highway just below the "Y" (Hwy 12/410 Jct) and called. Dad said he was going to see if they could open the gate to the Mud Lake road so I could get around it on the ridge, but that was a no go.

I told Dad that I was going to come back via White Pass to Cayuse and said goodbye to my good friend, with more plans of getting together in the future. At 11:30 am I left Naches after topping off the tank. Just above the "Y" on Highway 12 (White Pass) I drove by the Oak Creek feeding station, where the Bethel Ridge road takes off and connects the White Pass to the Chinook pass side via a network of gravel forest service roads that are usually only passable with 4wd.

I thought about going that way because it's much much shorter in distance and because I was in a Jeep. Probably less than 10 miles, as where I was about 50 from the Cayuse Pass turn off. I knew the area, but haven't been on the road for many years and wasn't too sure of the turns I needed to make to come out on Chinook Pass. The last I told anyone was that I was going Cayuse. A moment of indecision preceeded my common sense; Nobody knows I'd be driving into the woods. It's been quite cold at night and I'm not dressed for over night if it comes to it. I could probaby make it unless something happens. Besides, I know exactly where to go to make it via Cayuse so I motored on.

If I'd only known what I faced once I got there, I would have probably attempted it and been just fine enjoying a nice sunny day four wheeling in a nice Wrangler Sahara, built just for such things. I thought about stopping to call Dad at one of the resorts at Rimrock Lake, but it would have been collect and I don't know if he'd answer a number he doesn't recognize so I kept on. Not only does the Jeep do well off road, it did great on the highway too. Man, I want one of these!

I cleared the White Pass summit, noting the new snow along the higher peaks just above the ski area signalling the soon onset of winter. On I went, down the west side to Cayuse (Hwy 123). From there I passed the Ohanepecosh campground and the Stevens Canyon entrance to the National Park where traffic was backed up behind a closed gate manned by a couple of park rangers. Cars were turning around and I was getting a little anxious. I've come a long way to go quite a ways more from here.

After about 5 minutes, and many idiots behind me attempting to pass me to get to the front of the line, where I spoke to Mr Ranger who had just let a Ford Explorer through the gate. I asked him what the issue was and he told me shortly, "123 is closed".

"I got that much, thanks. I'm trying to get home due to the rockslide on 410" I told him. Dawning comprehension filled his face and he turned to open the gate for me too. He said that the DOT was doing some road work and that they should let us pass. Again I moved on. Cayuse is only a little over 11 miles long between highways 12 and 410. He opened the gate, I thanked him and he just glared at me in silence. At about 11.5 miles I came to the road work. The crew looked surprised to see me, before telling me to go back because the road is closed.

I explained the situation, but it fell on deaf ears. "I don't know what to say" the man in coveralls said. "The whole road is tore up". It was news to him that 410 was even closed.

I said "well, I am in a Jeep, can't you let me through? I wouldn't ask but, the rockslide..."

"No"

"Look, I can't go back it's blocked. If I go westward you're adding a few hundred miles to my trip today", I lamented.

"I don't know what to tell you sir". He said, as if speaking from his ass.

Well I did know what to say, and I told him in words I will not repeat here. Feelings of helplessness, rage, and utter frustration boiled out of me. I suggested he get back to work. More people are going to need this road soon. I turned the Jeep around and flew back down to the closed gate and the friendly park ranger, who looked surprised to see me. "They not letting you in?" he asked.

"Yes, they are", I replied. "I just came back down here to tell you about it. It would be a good idea to not send anymore cars up there, unless you'd like to see if you can persuade them to open the road". Again, I got a blank look that I'd compare to a pale white ass cheek. He wasn't about to move from his post so I made tracks.

Wondering what my next move was, I thought I'd wander into Ohanapecosh and attempt a collect call to Dad hoping he could direct me over Bethel Ridge. If not, I'll be venturing down roads previously untraveled for me. What a fun experience trying to call was. I found the pay phone at the visitors center and attempted about 6 collect calls to Mom and Dad (who were not answering) My wife (who also did not answer at home, her cell does not accept collect calls). My brother, but no one picked up there either. NOBODY uses the payphones anymore!

With every attempt to call, I had to speak my name. After each failed attempt I began to shout my name in a tone of angst. People walking by gave me some interesting looks. Here I am, a telecom tech and I cannot complete a damn phone call! Nobody was at the ranger station at the camp ground so I made my way back to Hwy 12 and farther west to Packwood to sit and think about my next move.

I pulled into the first mini mart along the highway to top of  the tank and ponder my travels. Standing next to the Jeep filling it up a little pick up pulled into the next pump and a guy got out. Our eyes met and he said "hello, hows it going?" If he'd only known the full scope of those words.

"Well, do you know a way to get to 410 without using Cayuse Pass?" I asked without hesitation. The man laughed as if I were kidding him. I then explained things and he changed his tone. The only way from there is to go farther west and hit back roads, goat paths and waysides to get back to 410, if not all the way to I5!. Discouraged even more, I topped off the tank and went inside for some refreshment.

I asked the clerk if they had road maps. She wanted to know local or state. I said "Yes". She came back with a cute little community map. I explained my plight and she looked at me much like those deer I passed along the highway the night before. She then gave me the back road way to get me up to Eatonville, from there I'd have to ask for more direction. I went outside and found a payphone and was going to give it one last effort to contact anyone, but after a few calls I was getting the same results. Finally, FINALLY! my daughter answered on my last try home.

I spoke to my wife for the first time this began. Thinking back, I should have had her call Mom and Dad and gave them the pay phone # to have them call me back so I could backtrack to Bethel Ridge. My wife told me that my brother had spoken with our folks and that the power was off. I was wondering if their phones had gone too...so I made a command decision and proceeded west down roads I've never traveled. It was 1:00 by now I was getting a little more frustrated.
I left Packwood on "Skate Creek Rd". Yikes, you couldn't skate here at all. The pavement was roughed up that you couldn't do much over 30. With my angst rising, I did notice the beautiful country and the angle that I've never seen Rainier from. This went on for 26 miles to Ashford and onto highway 706, west bound to Elbe. From Elbe up to Eatonville by about 2:30 pm where I stopped at a roadside mini mart to pee and get a little direction from there, to Orting.

The clerk was kind enough to provide me with some directions; "Go up the road to the first light and turn right onto 288th" he said. "Then go to the next one and turn left, then follow the road and wind your way down into Orting. Turn left at the main intersection, that's basically 410 from there". I thanked him and hit the road again. After a few country miles and no traffic lights I came to a four way stop at 288th. Chagrined, I turned right and looked for the next "traffic light".

More country miles later, I came to a T intersection, I could only go left or right onto the "Orting/Kapowson" Highway. On a hunch I turned left and drove for many many more country miles before the road started to wind around and I finally came into some other cars. We were above a small burgh in the valley below, which must be Orting. It took ages to finally get there. Traffic got really heavy as I got closer to stop and go as we found what must have been Main St with a banner over it; "Orting Pumpkin Festival". OH BOY!!!

Finally at the light I noticed that it was not 410 and there were no signs directing to it. It was Hwy 165. Left or right, north or south. So I went right into downtown Orting. Closed side streets, booths, tents, music, carnivals amongst a ton of foot traffic and a long stop and go line of cars. At least the Seahawk game was playing on the radio and they were actually winning.
Wondering whether or not I was on the right path by the time I got to the outskirts of town I saw sign for the city of Buckley, which I know is on 410 so I kept on keeping on. Another pretty stretch of highway. I wish I had the time to enjoy it!

At about 4:00 I finally made it to 410! ONWARD!!! Enumclaw by 4:30. For a third time I top off the gas tank. Now I can sense that I'm close as I barrel down the highway. 5:30 pm I make it to the 410 side of Cayuse Pass. Still closed with line of vehicles waiting to get through. Five minutes later, I clear the summit at Chinook Pass to find the road closed and cars turning around. I nearly cried. NO WAY are they gonna stop me now!

As I made it to the front of the line & rolled down the passenger window as the guy from the DOT walked up and rested his arms on the passenger door. We both exchanged looks and he didn't appear too happy. "I'm local traffic" I said and his eyes lit up.

"Really, where?" he asked. I told him where , and he said; "GO! we're just stopping through traffic here. I didn't need to be told twice. I launched forward and I took off around the barriers, and making my way down the east side. Below Morse Creek the road straightens out with a few short hills. With no one behind or in front of me I decided to see what Moms Jeep could do on the open road. 85 seemed just about right, slowing for corners and the occasional rig going the other direction, which was few.

On I sailed, counting down the mile posts as I flew by. Passed the Bumping River turn off and met an RV and a car going the other way. Nothing going my way so I sped on. At Cliffdell, the speed limit slows to 35, and out of habit I alway slow down because there's usually a trooper or sheriff at the restaurant. Then I considered the emergency going on farther down the road again, but still I hold my speed eventhough I am five miles out.

I glanced in the rear view mirror and spotted a red car coming around the corner into Cliffdell too. It came up on me in a big hurry right up to my bumper. Must be in the same boat I thought. It stuck with me around the next curve and up the hill to Whistlin Jacks restaurant. Clearing the hill and back down where the speed limit goes back to 55. With the car right on my tail I jump on it pretty good and fly by the speed limit sight at about 70 and gaining speed. The little care dropped back and I lost it in my mirror. I'm so close now, NOTHING is going to stop me! I hit 75, then 80 before slowing for more curves and catch up to a pick up doing about 70 and follow it to where my folks driveway is. I notice the little red car again catching me as I slowed. Since the driveway is hidden I turned on my signal early to announce my intentions.

Checking my mirrors again, I expected the car behind me to back off, but instead it was stil right with me, and lo and behold, it's left turn signal was flashing too! Another downshift and I check my mirror closer. I can see the license plate now. It's personalized. It's my folks car! Turning in just past the mailboxes, onto their gravel road I pull to the side and roll down my window @ 6:00 as  my Dad came rolling up. I experienced a feeling that I haven't felt in a long damn time, like I was 16 again.

He stopped next to me and rolled down the passenger window. "Didn't you see me at the Bumping Lake turn off? he asked.

"Nope."

"I had a hell of a time keeping up with you!"

"I bet you did. Just to let you know, Mom's new Jeep does well on the highway at 80!".

Dad's nose wrinkled but he smiled. Again, I hadn't seen that for quite some time. Here I was 43, in Moms Jeep and driving like a bat out of hell in front of Dad. OH! The memories it brought back. Dad then said, "Your sister called to say the highway was closed at the Chinook Pass summit. I was going up there to see if you needed help getting in".

It also brought back the realization that I just completed a full 360 around Mt Rainier in about 6.5 hrs. "They couldn't have kept me out. I'd come too far and would have driven over/through the closed signs, or over the bank, or up on the Pacific Crest Trail. No way was I going to be denied"!

Dad was kind enough to load my pickup with wood during my journey so I could head for home that night. After another steaming bowl of Mom's home made clam chower I made for home.


DAMROD = Drive Around Mt Rainier in One Day...

What a trip! Maybe next time I will take the time to plan and enjoy it...