mrzip66

As much as I’d like to think I’m a lone wolf,  I’m grateful that I’m a part of the family that I was born into .     They knock the shit off the hard edges and sometimes push you to higher ground when you need it, even if I can’t see it at the time.    Its exactly how it should be.

Visiting a new BACA child today on a micro ride.    Always a good thing.   It makes me think, and at the same time helps out a kid who needs our help.   It’s time to give back, especially when you have something to give.

I just need to get this out:    Who gives a fuck what Miley Cyrus did?      At what point, did idiots become news, let alone conversation.

There, I feel better.    Lets Ride!

Its funny.   My kids are becoming adults.    We’ll see what happens.

From the very beginning, I think most parents try and spot a little of themselves in them.      Your wife, your grandfather you loved, whomever.     You try and see if they have your nose, or your wife’s eyes, and you tell people.    People tell you.

They grow up, and you see a little more.     At that point, its personal.    Or at least, it should be.

I’m pretty proud of my kids.    I see  parts that I don’t worry about, and parts I do.     My delusion is that I can help them through some of those parts.    Me,  And my wife, and my grandfather that I loved.   whomever.   Those experiences all have something to say.

End of the day, they’re going to forge their path, do a whole new thing and hopefully make you proud.

Yeah, I’m proud.   I got good kids.

Red Barchetta.    What a great song.   A little story in there….

Went riding this weekend.   Nothing huge, maybe 120 miles but raising money for a good cause.

Rode missus Zip home, and headed the 25 miles north up to my brothers house.  Drank some quality and shitty Scotch Whiskey, watched a few movies that meant something to both of us, reminisced, and talked philosophy.    Slept a couple of hours, and smoked a 9 pound brisket.    Took all day.

A fucking great weekend.

We nailed it.   We shoulda made two.

I washed  the bike, just after it rained.   I figure that’s like a finger to the gods of rain.       It was a month of road grime, and I still didn’t get it all.    The old gal needs to go down to the carwash methinks.

Looking forward to tomorrow.   Got the comfortable back seat and tour pak on for missus Zip, and tomorrow we ride.

My 18 year old daughter worked all summer doing double shifts, bought her own ticket and flew herself up to Vermont today to chase down her dream on her own dime.       I let her go.

I’m Pretty damn Proud of her.   She’s gonna make her mark.

The wife had been planning this for a couple of months.    Downata hot springs with her family.   I really like my in-laws, and my Father in Law really knows good spots in this neck of the woods.   He’s a road explorer, just like me.  Maybe thats why she married me.

They headed out friday night.    I wanted to see some new roads, so I took the bike up saturday morning    Headed up through Heber to take care of a few work things.    The weather looked pretty bad.   I was pretty sure I would be rained on.

 

Chalk Creek road turned gravel somewhere around the Wyoming state line.    It was good gravel.   Graded, and it appeared to have just rained which made it not bad.    I was enjoying this road.

Got gas, and rounded Bear Lake,  into Idaho, raining a lot of the way.

I passed camp Bartlett, and for the 10 miles up the canyon I tried to remember where I’d known that place.    I remembered, and went back.

It was 1976.  I was 11 years old.    Our scout troop was invited to camp Bartlett.     I remember going nose to nose with a kid there, a few days in.       He wanted to fight, and I pussied out, and walked away.     I remember the swimming hole, and tent camping.hiking up to where a bear had clawed a tree, and having a whole lot of fun.     I also remember how I’d backed down from that fight and it haunted me.   The last day, when our parents were picking us all up, I remember shouting that kids name in the parking lot.   He looked at me, and I punched him in the face.   Then, my whole troop joined in against their troop,   In the parking lot, in front of everybody.      Boys will  be boys.  BSA troop 189 wasn’t invited back the next year.      That’s what I remember.     Memories are funny.

The canyon up to Preston was awesome.    Really a great ride.

I found my family, and enjoyed the day.   Cooked some burgers, swam with the kids and had a great time.    My family is awesome.

I headed out around noon the next day.   I saw some things on the way up that I wanted to see again.  I took this picture while I was searching for my keys for my bike.     It took me about an hour, and missus Zip  ended up finding them.

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