Take The Back Roads…

I was just listening to the news and they reminded me that ‘Labor Day’, (national holiday here in the U.S.) is coming up. About how many million people will be driving somewhere, on national highways, going back and forth, to who knows where. Having driven a truck for over forty years, I have seen more than my share of roads, national and otherwise. Maybe it’s because I was born a long time ago in a simplier time when everybody’s kid did not have a car and the roads were not quite so nice, that I still love to drive the old, sometimes forgotten, back roads across this wide country. One such road, much bypassed, is old highway 30, across the vast state of Wyoming. One of the last bits of the ‘Old West’…

The particular stretch of road I am thinking of, runs between Laramie and Rawlins, Wyoming. This old road(US 30) is only a few miles farther than taking the new super highway(I-80), and passes through a couple of smaller towns(almost ghost towns) before bringing the occasional traveler into the town of Medicine Bow.

Maybe, it’s because so many people are in a hurry to take a vacation  and want to get there fast, that they totally avoid the old, unfamiliar roads, or the fact that a lot of history has been lost because travelers have no idea that so much even exists. The old road(actually in good shape) through Medicine bow is worth the trip.

Driving into town is quite a sight. Here is a town of mostly one or two story buildings and in the midst of it all stands a crude, somewhat strange looking building, towering over all the rest. The Old Virginian Hotel and Saloon…
The Hotel is so named because of a story of Cowboys and the wild west, written in 1880s
, by Owen Wister. The story because quite famous and was later because the basis of a TV series: ‘The Virginian’…
The Hotel has a somewhat colorful history and over the years many famous people came west and stayed at the “Virginian’. President Teddy Roosevelt stayed there on his occasional hunting trips. I haven’t been there in many years now, but some years back I stopped and they told me they STILL rent rooms. A real chance to stay where history still resides. Wandering though the halls and rooms and feeling like I was in another time, I had to wonder… how many of the former occupants are still here?

If anyone ever finds themselves crossing Wyoming in the dead of winter, Take my advice and take the old road west. The wind is not so bad and  there are not so many hills, and if conditions get too bad, you might be able to find a room at the ‘Virginian’ hotel.
 If you need a good nights sleep, you can always go next door to the SALOON…

New Day, New Chance…

We all have good days and, sometimes, a lot of bad ones. No matter how bad it may seem, it CAN be worse…Like, No MORE chances…
When we wake up in the morning we often think of how bad we feel; like we wished we didn’t have to get up at all…

It may seem like life in general stinks, but be honest and ask yourself, what good have you done lately? What have you, as an individual, done to make anything better for humanity? Most send what time they have complaining about what they DON’T have, seldom do we appreciate what we have when we wake up in the morning… Simple! We have another CHANCE, to correct our mistakes. To fix the wrong we did yesterday. If we are not here to make things better, then what’s the point?

Consider the alternative…that you might not get another chance, and NOT wake up. It’s over! No going back.. no chance to make things better. Oh..for another chance!
 I believe too many people in this life waste their precious(limited) time trying to fix others; to  draw them into THEIR way of thinking. Maybe they just need company, in their misery?  Sad!

We all have to fight to remain free of the constant turmoil that surrounds us, but we are all individuals, that have to SHARE our planet, so instead of complaining and moaning all the time, get up in the morning, embrace the new day.  Appreciate the fact that you have another chance to really make a difference. Make that your  purpose for the day. make it a GOOD day…

Down A dark Path…

Everyone has an imagination, some more vivid than others, and sometimes it can get away from us. Have you ever wondered where a deep, dark path leads? You are on a nice walk through the woods and you come upon a path. You look, and it seems to descend downward to some place dark and who knows what’s down there? I have…

I guess we all have struggled with ourselves, daring ourselves to find out, but something in the back of your mind keeps telling you…DON’T do it! Don’t go down there. Chances are, there is nothing harmful down there but, WHAT if there is? I learned a long time ago that is is easier to STAY out of trouble, than to GET out of it…

I don’t know if it was my alter ego telling me I’m chicken, if I DON’T go,  or what , but at last I had to ‘Man Up’ and find out for myself. I start  down the path,carefully watching where I walked, because I have learned that we are not the ONLY ones in the woods. Lots of things live there, out of sight, and hopefully, out of my way…Still, that nagging little voice telling me…’This is not a good idea’!

The  path is wide enough, as if at one time it was well traveled. The way is wide and clear and if anything was ahead of me I might have enough time to change my plans; Maybe… Run, if necessary. My pleasant walk in the woods has turned into an uneasy walk in the woods. Darn it! Why did I  have to let my ego get me into this? Suddenly, I hear a rustling noise in the brush. My heart jumped a beat or two and I stood still. What could it be?

I knew there were bears around and I really didn’t want to run into one. No doubt, they can outrun me, and I don’t have anything except my walking stick to protect me. Oh man! I waited and listened and then heard it again. There was definitely something moving there. Now, I know how the animals must feel when they are being hunted. But what was hunting, or watching me? THEN, I saw what it was. I breathed a sigh of relief  when I realized..no bear! Thank God for that. We both stood for a moment or two just looking at each other…

It wasn’t the ferocious beast I had imagined and it was young enough that it probably hadn’t learned to fear humans yet, but the deer just stood there looking . I guess he was curious, as to what I was. Old enough to be on his own, and curious about this strange creature in HIS woods…Meaning me…

Not at all alarmed, and when he got tired of watching me, he turned, walked a short distance and put his head down to resume eating grass. Much relieved, I walked slowly on, so as not to frighten him. Let him live a peaceful life, while he can.

I moved on down the path, feeling a bit braver now, since I hadn’t encountered anything bigger than me. About a quarter mile farther the path began to widen and there it was; the end of the road/path and the answer to where it went. An old cabin, long deserted, but still standing. From the looks of it, it must have been built in the 1800s.

I wondered who might have lived here and wondered how they must have felt when they first raised it and moved in. I’m sure they must have had some reservations about what they were sharing the woods with, but they didn’t have the road/path yet…

Just A Nice Day…

Believe it or not, I have nothing in particular to write about, but it is such a NICE day, I just felt compelled to say so.
For Arizona, in August, it doesn’t seem too hot. A slight breeze makes what heat there is, tolerable. A couple of clouds in the sky….Maybe? A little rain would be nice about now, but till it happens, I won’t hold my breath. It just feels like one of those days, that I am not rushed and want to lay around…

I am retired and don’t understand why I EVER feel rushed. It’s not suppose to be that way when we’re retired…Right? Sounds good, anyway.
I live across the street from a school and I watch the kids running about, and remember how, LONG AGO, that was me doing the rushing thing. My whole life ahead of me; countless dreams of exploring, conquering the world. Yeh! I guess we all have a few memories, but now, my worlds have been conquered(as much as possible), all the hills have been topped and it gets increasing more difficult to reach the top. I knew I shouldn’t have eaten that last Burrito…

Oh well, I have had a good run(life) and don’t have too many regrets(except that Burrito), and regardless of the circumstances, I hope everyone else has, at least, one smile… and a good day…

Showing Respect…

Respect was (and still is) a big thing with Native American Indians. If a man, woman, or even an enemy was worthy of respect, they respected them. It may seem strange to engage in a battle with someone, to kill them and STILL show respect, but if an enemy fought well, he may be killed during the ensuing fight, but afterwards was treated with respect.
 I read of such an incident in Wyoming where a cavalry unit was overwhelmed by a much larger force of Indian warriors. The battle didn’t last long but, as the story goes, the bugler  didn’t seem to have a weapon…just his bugle, but in his own defense he was mounting a ferocious counter attack with just the trumpet in his hand. He was killed, along with the rest but when it came to taking hair(scalping) from the rest, the bugler was spared. He was buried with his hair still on his head. He had fought and died bravely and the Indians admired that. Years later, after a big pow wow in Laramie, warriors that remembered that fight and that brave bugler, went out of their way on the return trip home, to show honor to that fallen Bugler.

On another show of respect, comes the story of  young Crow Indian boy, who decided to prove his manhood by sneaking into an enemy camp and to steal some horses. Back in those days, it was  considered brave, but an extremely dangerous sport. Especially, if you got caught…

It was a very cold winter night and he knew that most would be huddled in their teepees to keep warm.He got into the camp, undetected, acquired a couple of nice ponies and was well on his way back out of the camp. It seemed his luck was with him that night. He had almost reached the camp’s edge when he saw a old Grandmother, arms full of firewood and struggling to make her way back to the tent. All he could think of, seeing her struggling, was his own grandmother, so he just had to help. He momentarily tied the horses, and ran to help Grandmother. As surprised as she must have been to see this Crow boy in their camp, she accepted his help with the wood, In no time, they made it to Grandmother’s teepee and she was safe with her firewood. It was then he turned and realized..he had been caught…

It must have been a frightening moment  for the young man, but what he had done, saved his life. His captors told him BECAUSE of his respect for Grandmother, he had earned a free passage out and a chance to live another day…But, don’t ever come back…

Although the American Indian lived, often, on the very edge of existence, they respected the land, the animals, all of what the Creator had given them. Even though they relied on the buffalo, rabbits, and a variety of animals for their subsistence, they always showed respect(and more or less apologized and thanked) the creatures they were about to kill and eat. What must be done, must be done, but with respect…

The Old Road…

I use to spend a lot of time driving around the country and I guess I have always had a THING for history, the past…OLD stuff, in general…I have always thought that if we can’t remember where we came from, HOW will we ever figure out…where we are going?

In the some parts of the western US, the land is still pretty much open country. On a stretch of road between Cheyenne, Wyoming , heading south towards Greeley, Colorado, I chanced to see what remained of a very old road,  off to one side of the present, modern day road. Most of the old road had disappeared but I continued watching and a little ways farther along the way, I spied what remained of a bridge.

I have no idea when that road and bridge were last used, but from the width and size of the road , it must have been very early in Automobile history. I would assume it could only have accommodated smaller vehicles, like the Model T, or A Fords. For sure, nothing like what we drive  now, and never the truck I was driving…

It really saddens me to see our history bypassed for the (so-called) sake of progress. It’s almost, as if, we don’t care anymore, as long as we make money…Maybe it’s the younger generations  that haven’t aged enough yet to realize, they too, will someday be older and be forced to look back…and wonder…What was it like back then? When their day comes, who knows if this old road and bridge will still be here, or will someone dig it up several hundred years from now…and appreciate it?

In other parts of the country, I have witnessed similar sights. In Illinois, where I am originally from, my Uncle once showed me what remained of what was called…a HALF road. Back in the early days, often the road was only one lane(often made of BRICK), and just wide enough for one vehicle. The idea was: IF you should chance to meet another car, one of you would have to pull to the side and allow the other to pass.

With today’s selfish attitudes and traffic I hate to think of even trying o get anyone to be kind enough to do something like that…

When Life Seems Fractured…

I know, at times, life seems to be coming apart at the seams. Nothing seems orderly anymore and  I get to feeling like a piece of fractured glass…A piece here, a piece there; all over the place…

When my computer gets that way I DEFRAG it, put everything back in place and all is fine again. Unfortunately, we humans are a little more complicated than that.
When all is in disarray sometimes, I have realized we just need to take a couple of steps back from life and have another look at things. It would be nice to be able to look at it from a Bird’s view but I haven’t learned to fly yet…

When we have problems, most of us have friends that mean well and have lots of good advice, how to fix the problem. Too often, we end up hearing about our friend’s problem, before we ever fix ours. For the lucky ones, a good chat and a cup of coffee, sometimes helps, but I find that SOMETIMES, that is the last thing I need. The problem is mine, and mine alone, and I have to get away from everybody and work it out. Thanks for the bits of encouragement, all the well meant advice, but I have to go…

I have often heard that running away from things doesn’t help, But I have found that to be absolute nonsense. An occasional change of geography does wonders for me. Get away from situations and every body. Go off by myself and try to put things back in focus…

Even when people try to help, just the sound of another voice(well meaning, or not) only tends to enhance the confusion in one’s mind. I prefer going off into the woods, to listen to a running stream, maybe

a bird or two. The birds make noise, but it sounds more like singing to me. It MAY even be a  good thing that I don’t understand bird language.
 I know that some people pay a lot of money to go and lay on a couch and tell someone else their problems. I would have to ask myself : DOES this guy really gives a damn, or that he is making money just listening to you and loves his job. I have to say I prefer SELF analysis…Besides, most of us can’t afford to pay someone to listen to us…

Our lives have become so crowded that we are constantly bombarded with everyone else’s thoughts and vibrations; waves of all kinds are coming at us from every direction. We just need to go to a place where we are alone, with only OUR thoughts, to sort out. Some have found ways(Meditation) to completely shut everything out; sort of like locking the door and cleaning house…alone!

I find that, sometimes, just keeping my hands busy with some made up project, helps to clear my thoughts. I know, from practice, that sitting around in the house thinking about how to fix the problem, doesn’t do a thing for me…

Some Things Never Seem To Change…

Everyone has problems, and these days, money seems to be at the top of the list, for most. It’s true that some have more money than they need or know what to do with, but for most of us, it is just the opposite.

Day after day, the bills keep coming and there never seems to be enough to go around. Pay a little here, a little on that one, and hope they don’t want more.

The world, as a whole, seems to be broke(at least 90%) and anyone that is picky about taking what work they chance to find, is out of their mind. As the saying goes: Beggars can’t be chosers, is truer now than it was 20 years ago, but we need only to read a history book to find out WE are NOT the first…

Not matter what year, it is never easy and NOT much comfort to know, that EVERY generation has had the same problems, and ALWAYS the lack of money was at the top of the list.
Here, in the United States we have many welfare or relief programs(often abused) to help out when times get tough, but back during the GREAT DEPRESSION, there were none…People were desperate and dying, with nowhere to go and nobody to help. During that time people were riding the rails(illegally), going anywhere, just to find work…of ANY kind. It was that… or starvation…

I’m sure we have all seen a cowboy movie or two, but few have any idea  what a hard life that was, back in the 1800s. Life was nothing like the clean cut cowboy we know from Hollywood. Nothing at all…
The average cowboy was generally homeless and constantly moved from place to place looking for a job, that often payed no more than a roof over his head and food in his belly. It was that…or starvation…

We have come a long way, technically speaking, but some problems remain consistent , and like the ones that came before us, we will struggle and make it though the day, one way or another. It’s like walking: One foot in front of the other…

End Of The Line…

Everyone has their stories, their memories of days gone by. Times, when life was at such a high pitch, then it all came to an end. That’s our existence, but that’s just the way it is… unfortunately!  I guess we can say that  for all things. They come and they go. They serve their purpose, then it’s over.
 Walking in our local park the other day, I stood looking at the old locomotive; just sitting there; looking so forlorn and lost. It made it last run long ago, but one can only imagine the days and nights it raced back and forth, doing what it was designed for. The hot fires in the boiler, the massive amounts of smoke that billowed from it’s stack…

I bet, IF it could talk, it would have lots of tales to tell; of the many people it carried to their destinations; Most ordinary, but maybe some famous,  EVEN some infamous, outlaws. During this train’s time, it was still the wild west(as it was called)… Who knows for sure? Now, it’s work is done, but still I have to wonder(crazy me) if trains have ghosts? If so, I’m sure somewhere this old giant, fire  roaring in it’s boiler, the engineer with his hand on the throttle, is burning up the line. Out across the open desert, it’s whistle screaming at every crossing…Going somewhere…

TICKING OF THE CLOCK…

As I sat in my kitchen this morning, I realized how quiet it was. I could hear the smooth running of the Refrigerator in the corner, and the even louder sound of the clock ticking…For a change, there seemed to be no noise from outside and I had really never realized how noisy that clock was, before,  Tick, tick, tick…An almost haunting and antagonizing tease…

After a while the sound of the clock became almost hypnotic. Tick, tick! Before long I started thinking back to an earlier time. I remember a time when we visited different family members, long ago. Even a a young boy, I had noticed how utterly quiet  their houses seem, when the conversation had momentarily ran out and nobody was saying anything. I remember the sudden, alarming silence that filled the room. back in those days, a lot of people either  didn’t have a television or it wasn’t running 24 hours a day, as some do now. If someone wasn’t talking, the only sound was of the Wall clock just ticking away; just counting off time and lives…

All these years later, as I sit and listen to my own clock ticking in the background, I realize that all those people listened too long to that old clock, and now…are gone…
Clocks may have their purpose but can also be a grim reminder that we only have so much time…Then, things run down…

Maybe it is better if we DON’T know what  time it is. Reminders only seem to make things worse…