The Race

raceThe race of man is no race at all. From birth to death, time appears to not matter. Man spends it as if it had no value or no end.

It’s only when time is expired that man begs for more. Wishing and regretting while the final ticks whisk away; it’s too late.

Now is the moment to realize there is no time; there are only things to do.

What will I do? Let my wishes expire or act upon them and see them realized?

The race is mine and it never ends. Until it does.

 

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Happy Place

Hey Kids,

Sitting in the dark, with the wind to my back, and the kayak bobbing up and down in the waves one has time to think.bullfrog sunset

The water was too rough to head out so I tied the boat to the string of large tractor tires that form a wind break around the marina and took advantage of the artificial reef it also created.

Between the fish that fell victim to the jigs I threw out, I watched the full moon rise. It reflection and the lights of the marina flickered across the rippled surface of the water.

My thoughts focused on the beauty of it all. The smell of the lake, the warmth of the air, the coolness of the water, and the pull of the fish. There’s a simplicity to it. There’s a complexity to it. There’s a feeling of being part of it.

That is my happy place.

 

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There Might Be An Occasional Gap

Hey Kids,

I don’t even know where to start but I’ve missed a few days.

I got so busy and lost in the things I had to do on the boat, fishing until the wee hours of the night, and the traveling, I never took the time to blog.

Monday meant back to work, meeting my brother and his visiting son, and total exhaustion.Alfred2

Tuesday, today, started out with an attempt to the gym. It didn’t end up so well. Maybe it’s just a case of out of shape but I fear my reaction to the minor physical strain might be something else. I’m no doctor, but I know this morning wasn’t good.

I ended up not going into the office and spent the day resting. Each time I stood, I got dizzy. By the evening, I feel better but I worry. If it continues, I’ll have to go see a doctor. For now, I’m hoping for simply a bad day.

But the streak is broken and unrecoverable. I think maybe the blog every day is beyond what is truly possible. I enjoy trying, so I still will because I enjoy it.

On to tomorrow. May the health be better, the writing interesting, and days missed few.

 

Post 3-161

Be Calm and Catch Fish

Hey Kids,

It’s pretty late right now. Actually, it’s really early in the morning, but I’ll count this as last night anyway.

“On business” we are back down to Lake Powell for the weekend. A couple of possible share owners want to see the boat this weekend so we volunteered to be the hosts. It was really just an excuse to stay on the boat, but why not?

The high winds were against us again in traveling down here. The kayaks tied to the top of the car made us sway across the road like we were listening to song but dared not to dance. It was nerve racking and it tests me. I get tested a lot lately.

I make it no secret that I miss my kids. For those who have followed this blog for a while, you know that I write this blog primarily for them. One day I hope one or all of them find it, read it, and if nothing more, learn a little more of who I am and what makes or made me tick. It’s why I always start out with “Hey Kids”.

Over the past several weeks, my emotions have been stretched thin. Sadness and anger are always waiting just under the surface. Little things, like the wind, can trigger a response that isn’t always the most appropriate.

I am also very susceptible to kind gestures as well. The feels overwhelm me and I become a little, well, let’s just say emotional. It’s a terrible roller coaster. Sometimes I wish I could settle out, be more stable. But then again, these intense feelings are my way of knowing that when I say I miss my kids, I’m not BSing myself. It’s not just words.

But tonight I’m back to my lake. A few hours here and I can relax. Already at the dock I’ve watched the boys fishing catch some nice fish. The stripers are prowling the young shad. And if you know nothing more about me, know that I love catching striped bass.

The winds are calming and by morning it should be kayakable for a few hours.

Let the healing waters do their thing. I’m here to catch some fish and to be calm.

Hope the kids join me here someday.

 

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Filling it.

Hey Kids,

18 feet in 22 days. That’s all I need.

Nearly 10 inches per day from now until the end of the month. Mother nature do me proud.

I entered a contest and that was my prediction. I stated officially that Lake Powell would be 509 feet deep at the dam on July 1st.IMG_0103

I’ve been watching the water flow daily. I’ve watched, experienced, and can witness to the nearly 30 feet of rise so far this spring. But I may have outpaced the run off in my last and final prediction.

It’s currently filling at just over 7 ½”, as of yesterday, which would leave me shy but I’ll hold my ground. I’ll stick to my earlier math. And if my total is right and I am randomly selected against any that may have tied me, I’ll use the winnings of one day’s boat rental with pride.

Yes. I am that type of geek.

Sometimes.

 

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Diminished

Hey Kids,

A key staff member gave his notice today.

And by key I mean, master key. The operations of my staff have come to be independent on the talents he brings to the team. The loss is staggering.

He came as a custodian. Worked his way, through excellent ethics and willingnesss, to learn things outside his daily duties. He became the guy everyone wanted on their team. He learned fast, he worked hard, and he always made the job for those around him easier.

He rose to the undisputed leader of his new team. No one questioned his mastery of the process and program. If he said it was so, it was so. He pushed himself to know more than his team’s duties, but expanded to other groups and how their work connected back to his.

He was smart. A refugee from another part of the world. He studied, took the exam, and became a citizen of the United States- the first country that would ever call him its own.

And when I thought my opinion could be no higher, he abandons all that he has worked for, moves to another part of the country, and starts all over. Why? To care for an elderly in-law, a grand parent.

What some do with nothing to start with, embarrasses those who, like me, still worry about who travels in what lane, compares the size of pizza slices to fairness, and gripes about who left too many lights on at the house.

This staff member won’t just be missed, but the soul of the team has been wounded.

 

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Rules

Hey Kids,

Rules. I know we need them, well some of them.

Rules keep us all in line. They keep cars on the right side of the road, or the left for some of you.

They help keep us all in line in regards to each other.

They establish standards and expected conduct. They make us feel safe and secure.

A problem arises and a rule makes it better. More problems, more rules.

And then there comes the people who live by these rules, who live to obey these rules, who live to make sure others live by those rules.

I’m a guidelines kind of guy. There’s a time to walk in step and a time to walk outside the lines.

There’s a time to be obedient and a time to be inquisitive.48days-podcast-graphic-6-18-15-300x300

There’s a time to submissive and there’s a time to be rebellious.

When the rule outranks the person, it’s no longer a rule; it’s a stick.

When I was a child, I thought like a child. Now that I’m older, I;ll think for myself

It might be why I get a long with my motorcycles so well.

 

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1900>800, and Most Others.

Hey Kids,

I don’t mean to be crass or to put anyone off, but it needs to be shared.strat

After traveling around these past winter and spring months, living within the limits given, and enjoying the easy going ride of the 805cc Suzuki motor.

But there is nothing like straddling atop 1900cc, twisting the throttle, feeling the power, feeling the roar of the twin-V Yamaha engine; and knowing you’re the king of the commute.

 

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Four-ish Seasons

Hey Kids,

In the valley, it was somewhere around 90°- summertime temperatures. Everyone is already enjoying the heat and some even complaining how hot it is and how quickly summer rushed in upon us.IMG_20170604_145045-1

We visited the mountains this afternoon. At 9,000 ft. elevation, summer is still yet to hit its stride. The hilltops still cling to their collected snow, the leaves struggle to stretch from their buds, and the grasses are nothing but green hue on the ground.

A great advantage to living near a range of mountains as great as the Wasatch, if you miss the start or end of a season, just drive either up or down the steep canyons and relive it all over again.

 

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Fuel

Hey Kids,

3500 was the number I believe I heard. 3500 cyclists. That’s how many riders were to participate in today’s event.

Every year, riders chosen by qualification and lotto converge onto the small town of Lewiston, Utah. Each is there to ride their choice of multiple courses ranging from 27 miles to 100 miles.

There is no race, no trophy, or even a way to judge their performance against any other. They do it just for the fun of it. Some dress up in fun costumes, others are as professional as an Olympic athlete. Actually the only thing they share is that they are all women.PART_1496529003754

I also participated, but not as a rider. Obviously. But instead I volunteered as course marshal. I rode along with the many riders who chose to ride the 100 mile course. I followed along, I blocked traffic, checked on riders pulled off to the side, and played cheerleader- minus the pom-poms. There are worse things than spending all day on my motorcycle, being a watchdog over 3500 women, and enjoying the backroads of the Cache County farm country.

And although I volunteered for this duty to show support for my wife and daughter who were part of the 3500 riders and expected nothing in return- I accepted the $20 of gas money offered.

Gas money is gas money, you know.

 

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