Clouds

The older I get, the more I notice things like clouds. They're beautiful. This was part of one of the storms that passed through the Red Ants Pants Music Festival in July of 2012. The weather made it tough on many of the performers, but you have to expect that for outdoor shows.

 

Here's a shot of the clouds at the 2011 show, just before Lyle Lovett and his Large Band took the stage. It turned out to be a beautiful evening and was one of the best concerts I've seen. We're planning a return trip to the show again this year, as they've got Merle Haggard, Todd Snider, Robert Earl Keen Jr., The Heartless Bastards and a bunch of others. The Teka Brock Band is playing the Thursday night street dance in White Sulphur Springs, and it promises to be a great weekend, no matter what the weather decides to do.

Sissies.

The Yellowstone Park ride has been officially postponed. Forecasts called for up to four inches of snow and winds of 20-30 miles an hour from the southwest -- the direction we were planning on traveling Saturday. Sunday's high was supposed to get up to a balmy 23 degrees F. Auto traffic isn't supposed to open in the park until April 26, but long-term forecasts don't look like much fun.

So maybe we'll try something different this year. Sure, it's nice to have a very limited number of cars to deal with, but the only road open is the one between Mammoth and West Yellowstone. If we plan a trip after all the roads are open, we could do a loop instead of retracing our path. Car traffic is there, but it's pretty light in the early spring.

A trip from West Yellowstone through Madison and Canyon Junctions, with an overnight at a cabin at Lake Village, followed by a trip through Grant Village and Old Faithful, then back to West, might be a pretty cool outing.

It looks like the Lake Village accommodations open in mid-May, and hopefully the weather will be better by then. But certainly no guarantees with the weather there. It might even be a good idea to bring the fly rods to try our hands on some of the water we'll be riding by.

Looking at the map gives plenty of ideas for different itineraries. A trip from Red Lodge over the Beartooth Pass and into Cooke City, then through the north end of the park and up to Gardiner would bring us very close to Chico Hot Springs, the perfect place to end any bike ride. All I need, I suppose, is the time.

The kids can all ride bikes now, but certainly a ride through the park is too much at this point for them. A shorter trip on a very wide road with very light traffic might be fun for the whole crew. Any ideas?

Time is running

Here's a picture I took of my youngest daughter's hand in mine when she was a baby. She recently turned 5 and will be in kindergarten this fall. My oldest will become a teenager this summer, and is getting dangerously close to looking me in the eye. My twins are only 9 (yeah, both of 'em) and both are already smarter than me.

It hasn't been that long ago that I figured I'd be an old bachelor. Now I'm telling my kids to avoid all the dumb things I did, and I find myself having uncomfortable talks about things like sex and drugs. I'm forced to listen to music that makes me want to jam ball-point pens in my ears, and I'd wager that I have at least 600 single, unmatched socks of various size and color in various boxes and baskets around the house.

In my single years, a friend with kids asked when I was going to start a family. "I can't even keep my houseplants alive," was my response. What did he have to say about that?

"You do what you have to do."

He didn't tell me it was going to go by this quick.

By the way, is it just me, or does it look like that picture has some kind of evil eye peeping out between my fore and middle fingers?

Cover Me

I've been known to sing karaoke a few times. It's fun, and a little easier if you've partaken in a bit of liquid courage. A buddy's wedding reception back in the day had a karaoke DJ for musical entertainment, and I thought it worked out well. Some are better than others on the stage, but it's fun either way.

Performers at the professional level, however, don't get as much slack, which brings me to the subject of remakes. My theory is this: If you're going to cover a song and try to sell it to the public, don't just do a karaoke version of someone else's song. Case in point? How about Keith Urban having his way with Steve Forbert's "Romeo's Tune" from the 70s? If you're going to remake a song, then remake it! Do something different. Earn your damn money.

The Indigo Girls have done two great remakes that come immediately to mind, Bob Dylan's "Tangled up in Blue" and Dire Straits' "Romeo and Juliet." I like remakes that trade genres like Dwight Yoakam's cover of The Clash's "Train in Vain." The Gourds put a brilliant bluegrass spin on Snoop Doggy Dog's "Gin and Juice," while Johnny Cash made Nine Inch Nails' "Hurt" his own.

Not that I'm fishing for comments, but what are your favorite covers? I always appreciate a new musical lead...

Customer service

I bought a bicycle air pump last fall at Wal-Mart. The thing broke the first time I used it, so I returned it for another. The pump sat in my garage all winter and the first time I used it the other day, it broke again. So, I brought it back to Wally, but when I was truthful in telling them I got it last fall, they told me there was nothing they could do, as I only had 90 days. I left the pump at the "service" desk, as it had zero value for me.

In contrast, a Kindle we bought at Staples for my oldest child for Christmas recently came up lame, showing just gibberish on the screen. I figured we were out of luck, but took a shot at calling Amazon on the outside chance they might do something. Turns out, we never registered the Kindle, and it had never been wirelessly connected, so I gave up almost all hope of resolution. However, the customer service guy from Amazon was incredibly nice, and worked with me for a good 30 minutes to find the serial number. He then registered the device and set me up for free shipment of a new replacement. That was Sunday, and the new device was here Wednesday. He also offered a reduced price refurb to replace an older Kindle that was also broken. The service alone was enough to make me pull the trigger and buy another reader.

I prefer to shop locally (and no, I don't think shopping at Wally qualifies as local), but it's hard to beat customer service like that. I'm probably a little more sensitive than most about how I'm treated when I enter a business, and maybe I hold too much of a grudge when I feel wronged. There are places in town I won't patronize, whether it's because I got bad service or because I'm not a fan of the owner. There are other great places, like Richard and Rochelle's, that have gone out of business due to a lack of local business. I spent money there, but not as often as I could/should have. Bad Beaver Bikes is a place I enjoy going, and I always try to buy at least a little something every time I go in... like maybe a decent pump next time? The folks who own the North Star Ice Cream Parlor are about as nice as they come, and I bring the kids there when they get a good report card. Some of my other local favorites include the Copper City Casino (food), the Chef's Garden, Park and Main Café, Gamers and the Hanging 5.

I might start my own local restaurant review, but I want it to be dish specific so I will be, as they say, comparing apples to apples. For instance, I might try the chicken fried steak or the ham and cheese omelet over the course of a couple of months at all the local diners and then come back with recommendations for the perusal of both people who have visited my blog - assuming they're local. We'll see how that goes.

Jellystone ride

Last year around this time I took a bike ride through Yellowstone Park with a couple friends and had a wonderful time. In fact, the only bad part was realizing that I hadn't already been doing the same thing for years.

The park opens to auto traffic on April 26 this year, and, if I'm not mistaken, opens to bicycles April 6, weather permitting. Road crews have been hard at work clearing snow and ice from the highways through the park, and if the conditions are OK, two-wheelers will be there in earnest.

Neither I nor my two friends knew what to expect last year, and we may have over prepared a bit - especially Brett, an avid outdoorsman. It turned out, however, that there actually is a bit of four-wheeled traffic with park employees getting the place ready for the season. Also, there are hundreds of other folks on bikes, so you're never too far from help, if needed.

Even with all the other bikes, the traffic is absolutely nothing like the masses of cars present in summer months. You can go for miles and see many more buffalo than people. At one point last year, we saw a herd of dozens of bison approaching on the road ahead. We veered off the road in plenty of time to let the mass of bovine pass, and ate lunch as we watched the parade. That show came less than an hour after we passed a grizzly bear that was digging for grubs. The bear was less than 60 yards or so away, and we had our bear spray unholstered and ready for action. Still, he was too busy searching for a smaller lunch than us, and never really even gave us the time of day, so to speak.

Brett and I will make the trip again this spring, and though George won't be there (he moved to Oregon), we expect a few more bikers to join us on the 100-mile trip. We'll start out at Mammoth on April 13 and ride around 50 miles to West Yellowstone, where we'll find a hotel to spend the evening in the nearly deserted town. Then we'll make the return trip on Sunday morning, hopefully giving ourselves time for a quick pit stop at Chico Hot Springs on the way home.

This time around my wife and youngest daughter will meet us in West Yellowstone, and there may be a few others coming to meet our group. So far, we're looking at about six riders, though more are welcome. There's plenty of room on the road, even with the wildlife.

Road rage

The other day I was driving down Harrison Avenue, the busiest street in town, when I stopped at a light. In my new-to-me minivan, I'm conscious of how much gas the thing drinks, and tend to go easy on the accelerator. The guy behind me didn't seem to approve of my pace, and blazed around me so he could squeeze into the space between my van and the truck just ahead of me in the other lane. This is Harrison Avenue, and there was plenty more traffic ahead, so Mr. Speedy Pants had to immediately brake once in front of me. It was a stupid move that saved him probably less than a second in his trip.

Well, I was unhappy. While I shouldn't give a rat's ass about nitwits like Mr. Speedy Pants, I found myself steaming, and I stayed right on his tail. I glared at his rear-view mirror at the next red light, and stayed close behind.

It was then that I noticed the red and blue flashing lights in my own rear-view mirror, and my heart sunk. I was sure I was being pulled over for tail-gating, and I reluctantly signaled to move into the right lane so I could pull over. Once there, however, the police cruiser eased past me and pulled over Mr. Speedy Pants.

I'm lucky that the fist pump I displayed didn't end in an accident, but my day had just been made. Sometimes there really is justice in the world.

Quality reading time

I've gotten into the habit of reading to my kids at bedtime. My three older kids can all read (and are all good readers) but seem to enjoy the stories and the time we spend together. My youngest just turned five, and isn't interested in the stories my older kids (9, 9 and 12) like, though I usually read to her before her nap time. I had been working my way through Patrick F. McManus' books, when the older kids misplaced the one we were reading.

It was then that we started "Call of the Wild" by Jack London, a book I had read probably 30 years ago. A great story, the book is even better read aloud. It's an exciting tale, and it's easy to slip into the fun and drama of the events. Written in 1905, London tends to use quite a few "four-bit words," which leave my kids wondering at times what he's talking about. I've made it clear that the kids are not to interrupt the tale by fiddling around, but they may at any time stop me and ask questions about meanings of words or anything else related to the story. It takes a lot longer to read when we stop to talk about things, but it's time well spent. I wish they would ask more questions.

I'm not sure what we'll read after this one, but really, there is no shortage of great stories. I think I'll choose something just a bit past their comfort zone, and hope for some more good conversation.

Still here?

I decided that today would be a good day to try blogging. Then I remembered I had one. So I'll write here. Looks like it's been a day or two? No matter. I'm not likely to see many readers.

I did the early parts of building a bar last night. Located in my lawyer buddy's building on the unused third floor, the bar is nothing fancy. The top is an eight-foot piece of laminated plywood I found at a local thrift shop for $12. The rest of the thing is being constructed with salvaged wood, mostly found on the third floor of the building. I guessed at the height, and noticed that it seemed way too high when I stood it up, so I strolled to Maloney's to have a beer and take a few measurements. The height (up to my belly button) made my bar seem more "official." It's turning out better than I expected.

The third floor has become somewhat a hangout for a few of us. It's a place we can actually smoke cigars indoors, which is something nice in Montana in the winter. It's dirty and dusty and stinky, which means none of our wives are all that excited about spending much time there. So it's a good place for the guys to relax. We refer to it by a number of names, as nothing has seemed just right just yet. "Man cave" is appropriate, but overused. We've also called it the "Man loft," the "third floor lounge" and "upstairs," but nothing has stuck. While I was building the bar last night, my friend said we had a new version of a speakeasy, now that smoking is no longer allowed in public buildings. So I suggested the name "The smoke-easy." We'll see how that one flies.

I deactivated my Facebook account recently (for the second time) and I'm happy not to have the time suck draining my day. I was getting to the point where I was spending hours at a time and my stomach was in knots about all the political and personal BS that resides there. Not only do I have more time now, I also have a lot fewer notification rings and flashing lights on my phone. I sometimes miss looking at friends' pictures, but I can always look on someone else's account if I feel the need. Also, I can post pictures on here for anyone who is interested.

There's lots more on my mind, but I have work to do. Maybe I can post more in another six years?

Bike polo fever

November is a tough time to catch the fever for bike polo. I say this because it's getting late in the season and soon play will have to wait until next spring. However, it's also a blessing, as I can spend the winter building a bike and making myself a mallet. Reading one of my favorite blogs, "How to avoid the bummer life," I saw some references to bike polo and explored further. The more I read, the more excited I got, and the more ideas came to me.

I spent much of this last summer and fall tinkering in the garage with my new windfall of bikes and parts. As I work at the local newspaper, I got a free classified ad that read "Looking for bikes, working and non-working." For the first couple weeks I must have gotten 10 calls a day, mostly from people with Huffys and Roadmasters and other assorted garbage. But every so often I found a diamond in the rough. I never spent more than $50 on a bike (a Specialized Hardrock and an old single-speed Gary Fisher KaiTai), and usually got much better deals than that. Many people just wanted me to haul their stuff away, which I did. Some of it went to the recycling company, but a lot of it went into my garage. After outfitting friends and family with a lot of the better rides I found, I was still left with a pile of bikes, frames and various parts.

One guy out in the boonies had a pile of at least 50 bike frames, some twisted and broken, some with a hint of possibility. The only one I took (for free, as he woudn't accept any money) was an old Raleigh (I forgot which model) from the seventies. I cleaned it up and put a little primer on the places where I sanded off rust. It's by no means perfect, as it has a few small dents in the 23-inch frame, but I think it will make a good asphalt bike polo steed. Most of the research I've done indicates that you don't want to bring your shiny new bike onto the field. I'll set it up as a low-gear fixie with some polo handlebars and a cool brake lever I saw online at http://www.boxwoodbicyclepolo.com/index.htm. The single lever operates both the front and rear brakes, leaving one hand free to hold the mallet. I have a single speed, but have never set up a fixed-gear ride, so I don't know how much I trust a brake-free bike.

I scouted a few places to play after work last night, and think I've come upon a good spot at Montana Tech. There is an old unused tennis court (two, actually), and it looks like the net posts will come up without too much trouble. I'd be willing to bet the school would let us use it. There I go with the "us" word. That's my other challenge: finding someone to play with. It might be a good idea to get the word out at Tech, and maybe at my LBS. We'll see where this goes, but it would be fun to get a few guys together and maybe even play some teams in Bozeman or Missoula.

I'll get more used to this blog setup and get some pictures of the bikes and the tennis courts up.

Wildfires

The wildfires in California are quite a disaster. We have much worse fires, size-wise, in Montana, but nowhere near the property damage. They've already evacuated more than 500,000 people, which is more than half the population of Montana. I would venture to say that there are more destroyed homes in California in the last two days than there have been in Montana (by wildfires) in recorded history.

I was looking at some AP photos of the fires and their aftermath, and saw one where they said a hilltop hadn't burned in recorded history, and the surrounding area hadn't burned in more than 50 years. Montana has much of the same problem, in that fire has been artificially suppressed for so long that the amount of fuel has increased and increased over the years. Some say "let it burn," and some say "clear-cut the forest." Neither is right. It's always a touchy thing fooling around with Mother Nature, but then that's what man does.

I felt like a total soccer mom today, running the kids to school, picking two up, then dropping one off at dance, then taking the other back to school to pick up his brother, then dropping him off at art class after picking up little sister from dance, then picking up dinner, then picking up the art student before heading home for dinner. Then I went to work, mostly because I needed a break.

Back for more

Wow. Why not read a blog that's updated once a month? Pretty darned exciting.

I'm back, not that anyone noticed I was gone. It's kind of like my old college radio show: The only people listening were my roommates, and they knew that every time I played the 11-minute-long Layla I was down the hall taking the Browns to the Super Bowl, if you know what I mean.

I've been reading Bike Snob NYC, and I do truly enjoy his sense of humor. I've also come to grips with the fact that my writing style doesn't lend itself to humor. So don't expect the guffaws here. Or maybe you're the type that sees the sly sense of humor below the monotone grey exterior. Whatever.

Thinking of snobs, though, reminds me of a photography course I took in college. Part of the deal was having to buy your own 35-millimeter camera, and the prof gave us a talking-to about our options. He opined that the Pentax K-1000 was a perfect student camera. He taught us how to use all the manual settings, and said that with our newfound knowledge, we could do things with a $100 camera that the nit-wits brandishing the expensive new models couldn't touch. He described himself as a reverse snob, and I immediately took a liking to the term

Reverse snobbishness runs through my life. I love having the same job as a guy with an Ivy-League degree, though I was educated in public schools. My old piece-of-junk Justy had almost 300,000 miles on it when some moron stole it on Christmas morning and blew the engine. The old car still got 35+ mpg when it died. I was very happy looking down my nose an people in fancy new cars that cost 50 times what mine did.

I'm not sure what bikes BSNYC has, or what he would think of my pitiful fleet, but I love seeing people on expensive bikes that have nowhere near the character that my pieced-together old machines do. I love to ride bicycles that I assembled from scavenged parts. It's fun to take pieces out of a pile of junk and make something that works, and works well. They may not be as light or fast or pretty, but they're pretty cool to me. While I usually don't look down my nose at folks on nice new bikes, I would certainly change my tune if they snubbed me. They might wonder why I was laughing out loud as I rode off on my $25 pile.

Rat Ramblings intro

It's 2:12 a.m. and I'm sitting at work. Oh, sure, I get off at 12:30 a.m., but the watering hole down the street sometimes calls. So I have a few with the boys, then realize that I'm at or over .08, which means I need to head back to work and relax for a while. Tonight I decided to start a blog. What the heck?

I'm listening to "Lucy" on XM, which I "borrow" from my buddy who pays the subscription but doesn't mind lending his password. I think I'll connect my home computer to my stereo and blast XM through the house.

It occurs to me that I should have a point to this blog. I think of some of my favorite ones like bike snob nyc and, though I like his style, I feel the need to do my own thing. That doesn't give me subject matter just yet, but I'm getting there.