BBQ Festival

Friday night Carole and I decided to attend the big BBQ festival in downtown Charlotte. We don't drive to downtown as often as we did when we were younger. It's kind of sad that we don't, when I stop to think about it. When we were young we'd go downtown for all kinds of things--plays, museums, concerts. But now we're mainly old sticks in the mud.

We had a really good time just walking around. The main reason was to sample some good barbecue, and we did that. We also had some rum cake with fresh peach ice cream made on-site at one of the booths. That was really good, too!

The funniest thing was watching the baby pig race, though. They were so darned cute and smart! It's sad to think that the four piglets we watched running around and being so affectionate toward their handler will end up murdered and eaten by the humans they trust too much. Alas.

Sometimes I tend to forget that Charlotte is a city with big buildings. We were once a major banking center, until the Bush administration allowed the bankers to steal their companies into oblivion. Now none of the major banks that were here even exist anymore. They're all gone, gobbled up by other companies.

One of the side streets we walked up to get to the site of the bbq festival.

I like looking up at the skyscrapers. We have some good ones in Charlotte.

Soon we were getting to the booths and temporary restaurants.

In the middle of things it got really crowded.

This is where we sat to eat after we nabbed our sandwiches. They were pretty good! We were very lucky to nab a table.

The view from our seat.

After we ate we went to watch the piglet race.

On your marks...

Those little cuties were flying!

I took a flash photo to freeze them in time.

What's a downtown without a horse-drawn carriage?

This band was playing live outside the Burger and Brew. They were pretty good!

Our truck was parked beside a cemetery. So of course I had to get a morbid shot of that.

The H Man

When I was a kid, this movie scared the crap out of me.

Of course a lot of relatively innocent stuff scares the crap out of you when you're a kid. But even though I only saw this film one time--when I was about eight years old--the images and the basic concept have stayed with me ever since.


I'd like to see it again to see how I'd feel about it. Apparently, though, it's not available on DVD and the old VHS tapes of it are considered "collectible" and so sell for far more money than I'd consider paying.

Something to do when I have the spare time.

(No, I have not finished THE CLAN. Still working...)

Next Project

My next project is something I've been batting around for a while. I had to put it on hold while I worked to complete THE CLAN, but now that I'm so close to writing the last few pages of that novel I can think about the next book.

It's going to be a novel called THE REZ. More than that I'm not willing to reveal. My pal, Mark Masztal did a mock cover based on the premise and a few pages that I showed him. Also, Garrett Marks did a teaser illustration which you can see at my author home page (click on the "Coming Soon").

For now, though, this is all I'm revealing:

Baby Cats

A pair of videos I made of two of our kittens when they were really tiny. First one is of Lilly, our Siamese who was bought from a breeder in Wisconsin:

The second video is of Cairo, who we found as a very tiny abandoned kitten in Cairo West Virginia (thus, her name). The video was taken on Christmas morning of 2009.

Almost done with the novel. I hope to wrap it up on Tuesday! We'll see how that goes...

Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone

One of the shorter hikes I took was along the rim of the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone. Here, the Yellowstone River cuts through the soft volcanic ash laid down long ago by various eruptions. The river carved right through this malleable stuff and so we're left to see this impressive gorge through which the river continues to carve its route from Yellowstone Lake and to the lowlands.

The day I hiked this, we'd had a full day of journeying around the Park. I'd gotten up early in the day to hike up Mount Washburn. Then we drove over to Lamar Valley where I did some more short hikes, and then followed that up with a jaunt through Hayden Valley and back to Canyon Village where we parked along the rim to view the waterfalls.

Of course I had to get in a little more hiking. I generally try to keep my hiking totals to about ten miles per day, and I was already past that. But I figured the hike down the staircase trail to view the falls would only add another mile or so. What I didn't realize is that I was hiking in a full two miles above the stairs! In short, I ended up hiking four miles when I could have just driven down the road a short distance and caught the top of the staircase trail.

Walk and learn.

At any rate, I never begrudge a mile hiked. It's my favorite past time, so if I accidentally ended up hiking a little more than usual, that was okay with me. Carole and Andy were tired from the walking they'd done, so they had to wait for me a little longer than what we'd planned.

So it goes.

The colors in the canyon walls are amazing. As the sun changes angle, so do the colors.

I took this one from the Rim Trail.

You can see people standing beside the lip of the falls on the overlook on the other side. But you have to wonder when--and it will eventually happen--that ledge of stone is going to give way and the waterfall will advance upstream a little farther.

After hiking for two needless miles, I come to the top of the staircase leading down.

Yep. That there is a bunch of stairs. Just one leg of the series.

The sun was setting, lighting up the canyon with all sorts of new tints and shadows.

Looking back up the vast staircase on my way back to the rim of the canyon.

From the rim I could look back on Mount Washburn which I had climbed that morning.

I took this one from the other end of the rim trail.

More color.

What a place! The river in the bottom was like a ribbon of blue-green.

Another Geyser

This geyser/hot spring was particularly violent.

Closing in on the finish of the novel. I will be SO happy to send this in to my agent and my editor!

Read Ted Rall's blog. Unlike most of the rest of the complainers I know, this guy has real guts. He's a journalist with brass cannonballs and is actually in Afghanistan right now doing some on the ground research and reporting. He did this once before and now he's at it again. All on money he raised himself, as no USA "news" organization is willing to fund a real journalist who will speak the truth.

You can read some of the stuff he's posting as he travels across that war-ravaged land here.

Dragon's Mouth

To me, this was one of the most impressive thermal features we saw in Yellowstone. It's called Dragon's Mouth, and for good reason. It roars and super-heated water and steam slosh out of it constantly. It was both impressive and somewhat frightening to walk around Yellowstone and to witness these hot spots, knowing that you were standing atop a dome of magma that threatens to break free of the crust once more.

On the writing front, I'm seeing the end of the new novel. The signpost up ahead indicates the finish line. Just a few more days, tops.

Sulphur Cauldron

As soon as I can, I'm going to post something in detail about the amazing geyser basins we visited in Yellowstone. Until then, here's one that Andy and I visited while Carole was at one of the cabins. It's called Sulphur Cauldron and is appropriately named. Most of the hot springs and geysers we saw stank, but this one is in a class of its own. It smelled horrible. Unfortunately, it's very close to the road so the sound of automobiles and vans and motorcycles and RVs is a constant bother. Still, I'd recommend stopping to see it even on a day when the road is busy because it's an impressive sight. I've seen photos of it when it has more water in it and I wouldn't mind seeing it at such times.

For now, here's a short video of Sulphur Cauldron:

Rafting the Yellowstone River

Carole had booked a rafting trip down the Yellowstone River for us for one day. We chose the longer trip that included a riverside buffet lunch along the way. The weather was, as with our whole trip, perfect. The skies were mainly clear and the area where we were rafting was at a relatively low elevation, so the temperatures got up into the very low 80s. The water temperature was also a very bearable 65, so that wasn't a problem. We were used to water about that same temperature when we go snorkeling and canoeing in the springs of Florida.

We chose the Flying Pig outfit to host our trip. They were one of several in Gardiner Montana, and we liked their trip description the best. We got up early and headed into Gardiner and soon found the outfitters and got changed into T-shirts and swim trunks for the journey. We went through a simple instruction bit and then we all climbed down the steep set of stairs in the riverbank down to our rafts.

We were on our way!


Looking down on the Yellowstone River from Gardiner. We were pretty high above the banks and had to climb way down there to get to the rafts.

Carole and Andy and our river guide, Anna, who is from Australia.

An osprey that we encountered just as the float trip began.

I snapped this one to show one of the other rafts and the typical scenery all along the 18-mile trip.

Anna let Andy take the oars for a bit. He looks like a natural!

Looking ahead toward the mountains. The river was getting slowly pinched in by the canyon.

This is LaDuke Springs, a hot spring that flows down into the Yellowstone River. The water here was really hot! Scalding!

Andy and me standing in front of the terraces at LaDuke Hot Spring for a portrait.

Dome Mountain rises ahead of us on the river.

The skies in Montana are a brilliant, clear blue.

I took this composite shot at the point where we stopped to eat lunch.

We came across this huge raft of ducks just as we were preparing to disembark for lunch.

The place where we climbed up the bank to eat. We had buffet style lunch--sandwiches, drinks, salad, and beans, cookies, etc. It was very filling!

Our guide, Anna, Carole and Andy.

Anna took this of the crew on her raft (with my camera).

The canyon gets really narrow at this point.

I looked back to take a photo of the other raft coming down a series of rapids we'd just gone through.

This was the most fun I had. Toward the end of the trip I hopped out and rode some mild rapids just floating along in my life vest. I was smiling, but riding the river that way was very tiring!

Soon after this we came to the take out point and went ashore. The bus from the Flying Pig was there to pick us up and take us back into Gardner. We had a great time! Carole always books this kind of side-trip for us on our vacations, and we always have a blast!

I Bag Mount Washburn

I wanted to bag another 10,000-foot peak, so I tried to pick one that was pretty easy. Everyone hikes Mount Washburn, I'd heard. A lot of people tried to warn me away from it because it has an actual road going to the top and a live-in fire tower on the summit (one of the last such fire towers around) and it can get pretty crowded.

But I didn't let those things bug me. I'm new to the whole western mountain hiking scene so even if it wasn't the best and most isolated peak, it would still be impressive to me. So I went for bagging this one, realizing that I might not get another chance to hike a third summit on the trip. Carole and Andy wanted to do some other hikes in the valleys and a raft trip--I had to pick a mountain and go for it. Mount Washburn ended up being my choice.

Following is a brief photo album of my hike to the top of Washburn. It's not the biggest peak in the park, and the things other people had said about it were certainly true. But it was just my second 10,000-foot peak so it was a prize to me.

I chose to have Carole drop me off at the parking area at the end of the gravel Chittendon Road. This took a lot of climbing off for me and put me within three miles of the summit. The "trail" here is actually a road that the rangers and Quest Phone company use for access to the tower and the communications equipment on the top of the mountain. Indeed, at one point along the trail I heard a familiar sound from behind and turned to see a Quest Company pickup truck rolling up the slope. I walked to the side of the road to take photos of some flowers and let it pass. Yeah, that was a bummer.

The peak off in the distance with the nub on top is the summit of Mount Washburn. It was a long way off, but the grade was easy. I kept looking along the sides of the trail for wildlife, but nothing was showing its face. I'd heard that there were lots of female Bighorn sheep, but after a few miles I'd seen nothing at all--not even a marmot.

I was getting closer to the top. The forests were giving way to meadows and I was really looking for sign of sheep.

The road switchbacks along the ridge, making for a very gentle grade and a really easy hike. The forests all along this part of the mountain were dead. I've heard the pine beetles have decimated the woods and the stories were true. Vast swaths of forest land are just standing ruin. Much like the destruction of our hemlocks here in the East.

I was almost at the summit when I took this shot. This was the trail down to the main park road far below. I would hike to the other end on this trail/road to meet Carole later in the day.

Some guys from North Carolina took this photo of me with my camera. My second 10K foot peak!

Below the fire tower on the top is a glassed-in room where you can sit to get away from inclement weather. It was just a bit cool and breezy up there the day I was on the top, but I can see where it would be good to have such shelter in snow or electric storms. This little ground squirrel came in under the door to beg for food. I didn't give him anything. Because I'd started the trip early, there weren't a lot of people on the mountain yet. This was to change drastically as I made my way down the mountain.
As I began to descend the peak I came to some spots where you can see that, while Washburn is easy to hike, it does have some very rugged sections. And off in the distance you can see the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone.

Looking back up at the fire tower and phone communications equipment.

I really liked the hike down. Lots of impressive cliffs and outcrops of stone.

Time for a self-portrait looking back at the summit area and fire tower.

Down below the scenery was great. The mountain on the other side of the road is Dunraven Mountain. I wish I'd have had the time to bag that one. It would be a simple hike from the road to the summit.

This was one of the flocks of Bighorn sheep I saw from the trail.

Unfortunately there were no males. The flock was made up of ewes and kids.

The closer I got to the end of the trail, the more people I began to see. By the time I made the parking lot there was an almost constant stream of people making the long climb to the top. This made me very happy that I'd started my hike at 8:00 am and had avoided the crowds.

One last really good view back toward the ridges of Mount Washburn as I approached the parking lot at the road.

And right at the end I was rewarded with this really fantastic view of Dunraven! What a cool mountain! Next time I go I'll have to take the short walk up from the road to the top. It looks like it has some really good views!

Pickle

As I've grown older I've lost touch with most of my old friends and relatives. What few pals I still have I keep up with via the Internet. It's a strange way to communicate, and because of this I sometimes dredge up memories that haven't seen the light of my eyes for decades. One of my online friends was writing about some of the really strange conversations he's had in strip joints and I was reminded of the poor working class world from which I came and in which we all seem to be stuck since our nation was turned over to a mental retard from 2000 through 2008.

At any rate, it was something I hadn't thought of in many, many years, and everything about the recollection of that memory is strange to me. Would it have occurred to me if I had still had friends to whom I conversed in person? Or was it something uniquely triggered by a long-distance conversation via the Internet.

I should say right here that this happened during my high school days. I attended a school in the mountains of northern Georgia in a place called Gilmer County in a village known as Ellijay. It was the basis for the setting of James Dickey's book and film DELIVERANCE. Yeah, I lived among those people for about four years, and I have to tell you that James Dickey had them righteously down.

Well, for what it's worth, here's that memory:


I once knew a guy named John Pickle. Yep, that was John's real name. His family was dirt-poor, but John was a funny kid and laughing most of the time, or making the rest of us guys laugh. He was a little younger than I was when I met him--I was 15, he was 14. So he had a year to go before he--like all poor kids in Gilmer County in them thar days--would quit school (Georgia allowed you to legally quit school on your 15th birthday, which almost everyone in the mountains did).

One day John Pickle did not show up for school. Next day, too. Day after that. Days stretched into a week, then two. Finally, he showed up. His head had been shaved and he was really, really thin. He'd lost a lot of weight. He'd never had any weight to lose, really, in the first place.

He was smiling but wasn't his old self. No laughs. No jokes. I asked him where he'd been.

"My dad shot me," he told me.

This took a moment to compute. I thought it was one of his jokes. But he wasn't laughin'.

"No way," I said.

"Yeah, he shot me."

Fuck.

"Where did he shoot you?"

John pulled his shirt down a bit and showed me the wound. It went through his trapezius muscle not far above his collar bone. Small hole on the front of his torso, much bigger one on the far side. Pink scar tissue. The bullet had gone through without hitting bone, nor organs, but had sliced some vein or something. He told me he'd lost a lot of blood.

"It didn't hurt all that much," he said. But he'd collapsed from loss of blood and shock.

"How did it happen?" I asked.

"I was running from the old man. And I was hiding behind his pulp wood truck and I thought he was gone so I popped my head up to make sure. And that's when he got me. He was trying to shoot me in the head, but he missed."

Shit.

Haven't thought about that in years.

John attended school the rest of that year, but as soon as he turned 15 he quit and went to work in one of the mills.

I don't recall him being very funny after the shooting. That might have just been me. Hard to say.