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

21 November 2015

The Fremont Troll

A light rain was falling as I mapped out the route. Four miles round trip to the proclaimed "center of the universe".

Started by Scandinavian folklore, and characterized as being ferocious and ugly creatures that hid in the shadows and lived off human flesh, I went out to find the Fremont Troll.
The streets are a sweet smell of individual freedom, the pungent aroma of Rastafarian's. Autumn's colorful leaves drape the sidewalk as the rain starts to pick up.

Bright balloons defiantly sway and fly, letting their beauty brighten the day of those passerby's.
I cross the Fremont bridge and crisscross quaint coffee shops and art galleries. People are scarce on an early weekend morning, only runners and those hidden under umbrellas. I take a turn up a side street and see a foreboding shadow looming ahead.
With each step closer I take, the eye of the troll never wavers, staying focused on my approach, as if deciding my fate..
"Fee Fie Foe Fum"

The words rattle and hum as I slowly circle the great Troll. Alas, his benevolent nature allows me to live, and I graciously walk home, letting the rain soak me to the bone.

16 November 2015


Zac and I walked about a 1/4 of a mile down to the Zambezi river. It was the middle of the afternoon, and the area was quiet. A monkey was curiously watching us, the water peacefully lapping the shore, and soft music could be heard in the distance. I saw a sign offering a dinner and evening cruise by Taonga safari's. 
It was our last night here in Zambia before heading back to Kenya to complete our humanitarian project. At the time, I had no plans to quit BCK, in fact my life was still full of dreams to continue this work.

All I wanted to do was to instill happy memories in all of us about the continent that I love. I thought that I would treat everyone to a nice little river cruise. We board and find that it will only be us, the boat captain and cook. We are thrilled to have the boat to ourselves, and pour our drinks as the meat starts to cook on the barbie.

The motor starts and seconds later we are going down the mighty Zambezi.
Brightly colored birds zip along the shoreline, as creatures new and old are spotted. Hippo pools and the ancient crocodile once again fill us with everlasting memories.
As the sun begins to set, the mighty procession of elephants fill the river banks. They forage the trees and brush, snapping mighty wood like tinder. They trumpet and stomp in graceful fashion as we gaze upon them in silent wonder.
The pictures we have of each other on this final night speak to how close we became, a true family. Although we may not speak often these days, I've no doubt that our bonds of friendship and love are forever cemented from our time here.
Bonds that can only be formed in the Heart of Africa.

13 November 2015


I was told that the place I was staying at in Cancun's hotel zone had the best beach in the area. I would walk in the wet sand most evenings and just take in the surroundings.

Couples holding hands, children laughing, millionaires making out with big breasted women in the shallows of giant yachts.
The water was always smooth, never a rough surf. I wade in the clear blue ocean, letting the salty wonder lap over my sun kissed skin.

I head to the bar when thirsty or hungry, and then slowly make my way back to the beach chair.
Best beach in the area? Who knows, but one thing is for certain...
the beach was better than being trapped in a kitchen doing dishes.

12 November 2015

Steve Martin & the Steep Canyon Rangers

I tucked in my shirt, straightened my tie,and caught a cursory glance of myself in the mirror.

Time to hail a taxi and head to The Kennedy Center for the performing arts.
Big city life in an onslaught of twinkling lights and towering buildings of history puts me at ease. I step out of the fanciful lobby and raise my hand for ride.
The cabbies in DC have been my favorite, so friendly and quiet. He drops me off and I see the sign I've been dreaming about since the beginning of summer.
The great hall humbles me as I search for my theater. Well dressed women and men of importance flood the entrance.
I find my seat in on a balcony with several other chairs strewn about. I settle in to a front and center view, and then gawk at the setting before me.
I had first heard of Steve Martin when I was just a kid. My best friend had the "Wild and Crazy Guy" on tape and we would play it into the wee night in the back of his Dad's camper.

I can't describe the pure magic of the evening, so I won't even try.

The night ends and I find myself on the edge of the Potomac river, the wind light and the city mood playful.

Back in the hotel bar, a glass of red in hand, and I think back to past few hours, and savor the night.


11 November 2015

The outcrops of the Transept Trail

Blending as perfectly as cream with coffee, the Bright Angel trail ends and the Transept trail begins. Along the rim I commence, noticing the many jagged outcropping of rocks that jettison from the edge into the big empty of space.

I am willed by an unknown force to venture out as far as I dare.
I climb to the top, ever so slowly, as the the vertical drop on either side becomes more threatening. The thrill leaves me breathless. I find a nice bench in which to rest for a spell before continuing. The old wood speaks to me as I caress the tree rings.
I find my adventurous spirit roaring to push my limits of comfort after a rest. The next outcrop is only a foot wide, maybe two. I rise to the occasion.
A few more miles into the hike and a perfectly flat rock is just begging to have my legs dangle from it's edge. As I do so, crows above dive bomb each other in playful fashion, and a curious creature known as a Kaibob squirrel shows it's own adventuresome spirit as he inches closer and closer to me.
I strap on my aviator goggles and lean back against a smooth stone. I am no longer in a bog of  aeroacrophobia.

I am free on the edge of a ledge.