There is a rapture on the lonely shore;
There is society, where none intrudes.
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but Nature more...

-Lord Byron

08 October 2015


The radio crackled, but the message came through with undeniable reality.

"Dead. They are all dead. Run as far as you can before it gets you too....."

I figure to have only three minutes to gather what I can before it would be too late. Nuclear radiation will move quickly, and the undead corpses will follow soon after. The mountains may be the only safe place to hide.

President Trump, that bastard, went off his medication and destroyed the world.
"Tent. Sleeping bag...."

I kept repeating the items I had in my car over and over in my head, wondering how long I could survive with what I had. The answer, sadly, was not long.

Cars madly drove past me as I make my way high up the mountain. Eventually only a family of Rocky Mountain Sheep are my companions, no humans to be seen, alive or undead.

I set up camp, then go search for water. I strap on protective glasses, as it helps me see our new wasteland of a world.

A few hours pass and madness is already settling  in comfortably.
The water here seems good to drink, free of poisons. I can still easily catch a bug though, and die from the dreaded diarrhea.

Better than succumbing to radiation or becoming a zombie chew toy. I fill a couple of bottles, take a deep swig, and look for food.
Marmots aren't as skittish now that we humans are no longer at the top of the food chain. My hunger is driving all decisions now. I take a rock as my weapon and smash a marmot's head into soft butter.

"My first kill of the day."

I get a fire going and sharpen a stick to skewer my meal when strange sounds gurgle from within. I throw up blood and dirty water, and realize that I can not out run the destruction.

My world is coming to an end, just like the rest of mankind. I crawl into my tent, listen one last time to the sounds of the night,
and fall victim to the end of the world.

06 October 2015

Trailside Park

The previous night's rain did little to damper my plans. I stretch and wolf down a little breakfast before assembling my bike for some early morning trail riding in Trailside Park.
The cool Fall air is perfect as I ride these hills. Although I don't bike anywhere near as often as I did, the world view from two wheels is still awesome.
Trailside opens up to some more technical dirt tracks that head up into the hills. Feeling adventurous, I deviate and work my way up the mountain. Mud flies and water spins in my spokes. 
I can only go for a couple of hours, as my energy and health isn't the same as it was in previous decades.

I won't let that stop me from doing what I love though.
Time...distance....none of that matters to me anymore. I just need to keep moving.

I need to keep breathing.
I need to enjoy the small joys of life, like mud speckled to my back from a day of biking in the hills of Park City.

05 October 2015

my love for the Swell

He knew it, but didn't want to face the ugly truth. This would be his last time for awhile in The Swell. He searched high and low to find a good final resting spot to be alone with his love.

Through the dust cloud created by the car, he sees an old horse corral, and beyond a patch of earth perfectly centered behind the Wedge and the adjoining canyon.

"Time to set up camp, and drink to the setting sun."
Not another soul to be seen or heard, in fact only a lone lizard was spotted briefly before heading back down the rocky hole he called home. The tent is pitched as dark clouds move south to north.
He cracks the first beer, and cheers the towering orange rocks.

"I'll miss you the most..."

In the stillness he can actually hear the sun setting, revolving, making it's way around our little world.
The darkness starts to abate, showing the fainest glimmer of the wilderness from the tent. Surviving the wild alone, he quietly unzips the tent flap and peers outside. Nothing but small red coals from last night's fire, and his trusty bike.

He slowly gets up and walks to get the blood pumping and stiffness out of his body. The sunrise comes quickly here in the Swell, and it startles him into motion.
He rides to the bridge that the San Rafael river runs underneath. It's too low for anything other than a watering hole for the animals.

He continues on. A plateau calls his name. He stops to listen...
one final time.

04 October 2015


Comparing apples to oranges is akin to musicians to singer/songwriters.

Both are good, yet each is in a class all their own.

I was able to witness two incredible singer/songwriters this weekend, with their raw emotions flooding the venue in a blanket of heightened emotions.
In hipster glasses, a black hat and rolled up jeans, Sera Cahoone quietly walks on to the stage. She comments on the omnious dark clouds that were over the Wasatch mountains, stating it reminds her of her hometown, Seattle.

She opens with a song called "Naked", and tells a little story about the time in her life when she wrote the lyrics. Her voice silences the crowd in wonder, and commands our attention.
When Mason Jennings saunters on the stage, we all collectively scream like teenage girls. He sounds amazing, even more so than when I saw him last year in Portland, Oregon.
So many great songs, with a double encore performance to cap the night. Of all the concerts I've been lucky enough to hear, those with only the singer and their instruments are the ones I connect with the most.

Intimate. Raw. Beautiful.

03 October 2015

Starvation, Cbug, Senility, etc...

I sometimes dream about what my life will be like if I end up in a nursing home. I hope that I will have the cognitive awareness to still harness and use the Internet, if it's still around.  

If it is, I will read stories such as this, reminisce at the pictures displayed here, and watch the videos of my life repeatedly.
Like the time Cbug was brave enough to jump into the lake from the boat.

I love this little guy so much it hurts.
This post isn't really about anything, only a memory that I want to capture forever. Perhaps this will stave off senility as I'll have constant reminders of those that mean the most to me.
Another journal entry of my journey in this life.