The Miracle of You (dedicated to my family)

EXPLOSION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(14 billion years ago)
The laws of physics exert their power over the young cosmos. Gravity begins to coalesce matter into clumps that ignite to form the first stars.


SOL (4.5 billion years ago)
Our solar system forms including the planet that becomes our future home.


LIFE (3.5 billion years ago)
The first thermophilic microbial colonies form. They exist without much change for 3 billion years. Eventually the vast diversity of life begins to rapidly evolve 500 million years ago.


Looking Forward
Looking Back....

THE PRESENT:
Here each of us stands; Here and Now. Each of us a living, breathing miracle embodying the processes of time, chance, nature and struggle. Think of ALL who have come before...

Your parents' urge to strike out on their own and then... a chance meeting. Your grandparents meeting in a much smaller world, falling in love and then starting families. Your great grandparents or great-great grandparents coming from Germany and other countries on a ship; all of them making the crossing of a vast ocean successfully and without dying of a disease before having children. The Smith's, Olson's, Heck's, Ritz's, Boggs', Phipps', Copelands's, Gilbert's, Thiel's, Peppenhagan's, Wiepert's, Wilde's, Haack's, Schultz's, Peck's, Dorwald's, Blum's, Jarmillo's, Griffith's, Hash's, Boone's, Van Bibber's, Bryan's, Van Cleve's, Maugridge's, Uppey's..George Boone I and Ann Fallace (Anali and Mallory's Great X 11 grandparents). These ancestors cover just 350 years and represent only a partial list of those who came before. If Governor Bent hadn't stalled the Indians long enough, his wife would have been killed too. She would never have lived to re-marry and have more children. If that famous BAER had KILT D. BOONE instead of the other way around then he would have never had children. If disease or accident had felled any of these ancestors before they had sired children the chain that leads to you would have been broken. We wouldn't be here.

Now look further back in time, through wars, invasions and occupations of Norhtern and Middle Europe. Conquests, poverty, eking out a living just enough to survive and procreate, not succumbing to plagues or famine. Having children in sometimes horrible circumstances; rarely out of romantic love like we are able to today. Further back to the days of the Roman Legions and before that into pre-history. Generation upon Generation of our ancestors living, reproducing, dying. For thousands of years living during and before the ice ages in primitive villages. Huddling around fires for warmth, telling long forgotten stories of their ancestors; watching the stars and waiting for the return of the sun. The great expansion of humankind from the golden crescent and long before that the original exodus from Africa; our earliest Human ancestors. It all points, through countless generations, unerringly to YOU.

Now consider the eons of hominid progression and survival. The earliest primates and before that the first mammals; shrew-like creatures in the forest canopy. Their reptilian and amphibious ancestors evolving and passing on their DNA to the next individuals over the vast periods of time that our human minds have difficulty fathoming. Earlier and earlier this scenario unfolds until the earliest life, those mats of microbial cells clinging to a thermal vent under and unnamed ocean on the primordial Earth.

If ANY of those links had been broken YOU, WE wouldn't be here. YOU are the miracle of miracles. The unbroken chain since the begining of Life! Let not a day pass that you do not feel the powerful force of life coursing through your veins. The complete, undeniable special-ness of each of us.

"We are made of star stuff, contemplating the stars" - Carl Sagan

December 21, 2009

The Last Ride

I got in what will likely be my last bike ride of the season today. I did 16 miles in 25 degree weather. Luckily wind was negligible today. I rode on the recently completed Fishtrap Trail from the bottom of Sunset Hill all the way past Marshall and back late in the afternoon. The only thing that was cold on me were my big toes.

I rode on my classic black Schwinn 10 speed (without toe clips) wearing my handmade cap, my amber colored shop glasses from Lowes and some funky gloves that worked well. I also had on some trad cotton underwear beneath some work out pants. I had on my windbreaker bike jacket over a t-shirt and two sweatshirts. In retrospect, I think I need a pair of those booties that go over your shoes designed for cold weather biking. I also had on my National Geographic Polar Bear Buff Thermal Headwear worn as a mask in order to warm the air as I breathed it into my lungs. All elder outdoor enthusiasts with any kind of respiratory or cardiac issues should wear something over their mouths and noses when exercising in temperatures below freezing. I used to teach that when I did Cardiac Rehabilitation at Deaconess Medical Center years ago. I really didn't need it today but it feels better to have slightly warmer air coming into your lungs when you are exerting yourself.

I saw 3 turkeys, some Canadian Geese and a Magpie on my journey. I was even friendly to the one other person that I passed going the opposite direction (twice). I didn't even notice what kind of bike he was riding.

Gear Snobs I Have Met

They say that writing helps a person to understand themselves... so bear with me here. Okay, I am just gonna say it...I am sick of meeting people on the trail who glance down at your bike/skis/ snowshoes/whatever and you can see in their eyes that they are making a snap judgement on whether you are 'worthy'. On the other hand, a person who doesn't care about that stuff will look you in the eye and say 'hello' and talk with you. I had both experiences, again, on Mt. Spokane while cross-country skiing.

I met an older man a couple of years ago that was training with his ancient external pack on and, instead of trekking poles, he was using old pink cross-country ski poles. As we passed each other we said 'hello' then we turned back and started chatting. He was a very interesting fellow who was training for a solo trip into the Norht Cascades and happened to be thrifty. He was also a pilot and former competitive body builder.

In Spokane there is a retro bike group that gets together monthly and rides together to Brown's Addition for refreshments. I passed them one evening and there were 40 or so in the group and it just made me smile : )

I am of two minds about all this. Sure, I have a few nice things but the last time I went backpacking with some friends I chose my old external frame pack (bought in college) because it is so cool and funky. I could have taken my newer one but it was a fun trip composed of us goofy letterboxers. We are all just kids at heart anyway.

I guess I just pine for the days when your old pair of running shoes, tattered sweats and the T-shirt that you bought at the Champion outlet with the logo misprinted backwards for 39 cents was 'in'. At least I thought it was 'in'. Maybe I just feel this way because I grew up with little money and still don't like to spend much. I know that good gear, especially in the clothing realm, can save your life. However, when I am just dinking around I think I will just stay with my tattered cotton sweats with the paint stains and let people judge me for my behavior... like 'hey, at least that old guy is out exercising!'

This is not meant to be offensive to anyone and I am guilty of this myself. Like the ubiquitous 'Northface' logo that I see everywhere that makes me cringe...

Zombies Among Us

I was walking on the abondoned rail trail below where we live last week. I was crossing what I call 'The Scar', an open gash that the developer made in the trail when I noticed someone coming in the other direction with a small white dog on a leash. As we got closer I saw that it was a young woman and she was texting on her iphone or some such device, looking down at it the whole time. She must have noticed me because as we were about to pass I looked her way to wave and say hello but she was looking away and had put her phone in her pocket. She still had her ipod earplugs in. I can understand not wanting to say hello but we were in the open in full view of the houses just above where we were walking. I am sure that after passing me she got her iphone back out and texted something like "passed scary old man" in cyptic language. I wonder if she even noticed the smells of the decaying leaves in the woods, the play of light through the evergreen braches or the clouds overhead? I know she never heard the sound of a bird that day. Good thing she didn't walk into our neighborhood moose.

The Consistency of Mud

The weather man predicted an 80% chance of snow for today. I needed some exercise so climbing Tower Mountain again sounded attractive. It is my new favorite local hike and can be a loop if one so desires. As I climbed out of the valley I quickly came to were the ground was superficially frozen. I also discovered a small recently dug grave for a dog. Someone had come upon the poor, unnamed pooch and thoughtfully buried him then erected a small monument with his collar draped over it. What a thoughtful thing to do.

The trail became much more steep and rutted as I neared the towers and the summit. The wind was blowing a little on top but still no hint of snow. In fact it looked like it was clearing a bit to the west. The only 'snow-flakes' were frost particles blown off the pine needles. As I left the fences and towers and descended into a more natural area at Krell Hill I was greeted by my Corvid friends. They were just playfully soaring and circling in the wind. They always make me feel connected to the web of live and like I've just come home.

I explored around Big Rock for awhile, found an abandoned climbing rope, took some more photos and scrambled onto a few rocky outcropping to check out the views. I could see Steptoe Butte in the distance. A few whitetails were in the area moving like graceful dancers in the underbrush.


Descending now, I found out that today was definitely not a good day to be a trail runner. The trail was all frozen beneath but covered with about an inch of gooey, slippery mud. I slipped a couple of times on nearly flat ground. On the steeper sections I had to skirt the edges or just plant my feet in the center of the eroded middle which was not muddy. As I made my way down the snow finally moved in, which in itself was fun to watch against the backdrop of the dark hillsides. Very nice hike, all in all. I was all alone except for my animal companions, taking everything in.

Veterans Day 2009

My hero while growing up and more so now, was my uncle, Norman Wills. Despite teasing me about 'girlfriends' when I was little and harassing me about my bowling form when I was at the alley with my teen friends, he was always a positive male role model for me. He never smoked and drank very little unlike every other adult in my family.

From the earliest age I was instructed to never ask him about 'The War' that played such a huge role in my parents generation. He had terrible nightmares and was trying to live his life by forgetting the horrors he had experienced.

When he entered the service he was asked if it mattered which Theater he wanted to serve in since his mother had immigrated from Germany at the age of three. He essentially said that it didn't matter to him. So he went off to England after training. He fought from the day after D-Day (his boat was at the back of the landing force) until he was wounded and captured in Aachen on September 21st, 1944. At that time he was Staff Sergeant Squad Leader in the 36th Armed Infantry Regiment of the Third Armored Division, a "Spearhead Doughboy". As squad leader he was 'in charge of the operation of a light machine squad of 9 men, including gunners, crewman and half-track drivers and led men in battle'. During close house to house combat a German grenade was thrown at him and he was badly wounded in the leg and then captured. "They only asked me if I was American or British" he told me. Several hours later the Allies advanced, the Germans retreated and left him there. When he was recovered in the field of battle his long journey of healing was just beginning.

He spent 23 months in military hospitals in England and in the U.S. healing his badly broken and infected leg. During all of this time he was married to my mother's sister, Alice, who was raising their young son Dennis.

Uncle Norman was awarded a Purple Heart, two different Bronze Battle Stars and served in the Normandy, Rhineland and Northern France campaigns including the liberation of Belgium and the Battle of the Bulge. The only time I heard him talk about his experiences was on the 50th Anniversary of the D-Day Invasion. I was at home visiting them in their living room on peaceful Cherry Street in Lockport, NY. He said the local VFW had contacted him to be part of the celebration. "Why would I want to celebrate something that I have been trying to forget for the last 50 years?" was what he said to us.

Once, later, on the phone I encouraged him to write down some remembrances for future generations of our family but he gently re-buffed my request.

This man who always gave a warm greeting, a big smile and who had a gentle way of encouraging you had a hidden secret that he bore with dignity, never complaining. He continued to hunt, fish, bowl and garden into his later years. I still recall him in the back yard on Cherry Street pitching wiffle balls to my two young daughters. The limp as he walked, reminded me of his secret, safely tucked away...

Norman Wills
February 10, 1917
October 28, 2003

Another Quote That Speaks Truth

"There are those of us who are always about to live. We are waiting until things change, until there is more time, until we are less tired, until we get a promotion, until we settle down / until, until, until. It always seems as if there is some major event that must occur in our lives before we begin living." George Sheehan, physician, author, runner, 1918-1993