152;Uncle Albert's Mountain,( The Lure;) Chapter XIX, LANCE

      The barren one room apartment at the top of the stairs was stark and cold. The stained sheets on the single bed were crumpled and unmade as usual. A table with chairs sat against the opposite wall. On the top of the table a large glass ashtray was overflowing with cigarette butts and empty gum wrappers. A tin of Skoal sat alongside three empty beer cans. They were stacked in a pyramid. In the third draw of the dresser, by the only window was a 38 midnight special, a german luger, and a 44 magnum, all loaded. The front wall by the door was covered with posters and newspaper clippings pertaining to the Vietnam War. A few foldouts of pin up girls, gave a sharp contrast of images in the room. It radiated a disturbing feeling for the eclectic nature of the designer. In the fourth drawer buried beneath a pile of dingy grey underwear were the timer, electrical cord and plastic explosives.

     Lance Berry was sitting cross-legged on a pillow against the empty wall across from the door. Although his eyes were closed, he was wide-awake. He had been sitting communing with whatever thoughts flashed through his mind for over two hours. A peaceful look accentuated the rugged features that you would hardly notice. Deep dark eyes, and a once broken nose sat above  a thin straight mouth that never smiled, his body, a well oiled machine, hard and strong. It was ready for whatever might be demanded of it. He added more and more lines to the page as an incredibly scaled drawing of Arapahoe Basin began to appear. Lance knew every square foot of the area and transferred that image in his mind to the paper in front of him. In detailed precision he captured every structure from the lift towers to the lodge. He sketched in caricatures representing people at different positions on the map. In a corner he wrote: A-Basin, 4-1-78 3:45 PM. Sitting back he stared at his work and was scanning it for mistakes, tapping his pencil obsessively on his leg. Assured of his perfection, he grabbed the warm can of beer from the table and finished it in one gulp. Neatly, he stacked it up against the other four, grabbing his Skoal he pinched out a portion and tucked it into his cheek. Turning his attention to his drawing, he examined it carefully and after a few moments he took his pencil and made a large X through the Number Three Lift Station.

     “Stick to your Politics Senator and leave the mountains to the Mountain Men. You think just because all the other people in the Valley laid down at your feet, I’m going to. You’ve got a rude awakening. I’ll blow the whole mountain, before I see you get it.”

The Ring Song, Krishna Das, Pilgrim Heart

148-Uncle Albert's Mountain,(The Lure of the Mountain King; )Chapter XV; Toby

   Toby had been slacking off the last couple of weeks. He was staying out late, sleeping in extra late, and not showing up. It was hard for an eighteen-year old boy, with all the distractions around him, to dedicate his every wakening moment to one sole purpose. The only way to attain a goal, is absolute single minded desire. Push until it hurts, and then start pushing.

     He was blaming everyone but himself for his poor performance. Sara mixed the drinks too stiff, Tom didn’t wake him on time. He was harder to live with than Jilly. He rarely rode to the Basin with her anymore. If he made it there by noon, he was lucky, he missed more days than he skied. It turned out that his biggest down fall was his lack of ambition. Hard work was not his strong suit. Putting everything off until tomorrow, he didn’t realize that tomorrow never come until it is too late. The only think that every skier on the circuit knows is that the season ends too soon. You have to love each moment as if it was your last moment, and spend it as if you were wealthy beyond belief. If you don’t its over, and your left with nothing except wasted time and pockets full of empty dreams. Toby had always had the best equipment and training available through NASTAR Racing, his parents had made sure of that and supported him all the way. They spoiled him as parents do, but they never realized the effect it would have on him now. Accustomed to getting it all, he didn’t know how to give, never having had to learn. He had no idea what the game was like, and it was all coming due. Having to play it all by himself for the first time, he was lost.

    

     “I don’t believe you, Toby, you’re a real jerk,” Tom said pointing his finger in his face. “You have got more than 99% of the people on this planet have, and your drinking it all away.”

     Toby just rolled his eyes, and took another long swig.

     “You’re so blind drunk that you don’t even know that you’re hurting yourself. I would love to see you go all the way, but if you don’t care, why should I. I don’t know why I’m saying this. Just forget it.”

 

     Tom grabbed his glass to take another drink, but he put it down and pushed it away. He looked around the room at all the intoxicated people having a drunken time. In disgust, he shook his head. He had been drinking since he was fifteen, and never thought about it until now. Looking back at his friend, he saw him throwing his life away in the name of harmless fun. The reasons he had, didn’t matter. It was his inability to realize the situation and deal with it that was the cause of his trouble.

 

     “Sara get my friend here another drink. In fact get him two, I think he needs them.”

     “Take it easy Tom.”

     “Yesh come on Tom, give ush ,” Toby slurred.

     Tom had given up hope.

     “I think you have had enough Toby,” Sara said taking away his glass.

     “Hey come on,” Toby yelled. He spilled Tom’s drink grabbing for his.

     Tom and Sara looked at each other. They didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t even spell his own name. You can’t argue with someone who is not present.

       “Call a cab Sara. I’ll take this mess home. Come on Tobe let’s get some fresh air.”

     Helping Toby up from his chair, he ushered him out the door. He sat him down on the front step and leaned him up against the railing. Tom stood and watched his friend slumped over and barely conscious. He wanted to do something, but nothing had worked. Toby was just getting worse.

     The cab pulled up and Tom lifted Toby into the back seat. As they were driving away, he remembered similar nights like this with David. He was the same back in high school. They would drink until they passed out. He had no control over it, and no desire to stop it. If it hadn’t been for his girlfriend Michelle, he wouldn’t have made it. The love of a beautiful woman can be a strong lifelong influence on a man’s character. Toby needed something to beak him free of his self-destructive path. Unless things changed very soon, it would be only a matter of time before there was nothing anyone could do.

 

     The next morning Tom left Toby once again snoring away in his bed. He rode up to the Basin with Jilly. There were a few minor repairs that were needed for some time. Joe came up behind him with someone he didn’t recognize as he was finishing replacing a door lock.

     “Tom, this is John Weston. Toby’s NASTAR coach from Steamboat.”  

He looked closely at the short solidly built man.

     “I’m glad to meet you,” he said shaking his hand firmly. He was surprised to see him. After writing a letter to him about Toby’s problem, he had expected to hear some advice, he hadn’t expected him to come in person.

     “Toby’s not here?” His voice was strong and demanding.

     “You two have a lot to talk about. I’ll go see if I can round him up.”

     “You tell him I’ll kick his butt if he’s not here in exactly one hour. Tell him one hour Joe,” Coach demanded.

      Joe started out hoping Toby wasn’t going a problem to convince.

 

     Tom and Coach Weston sat down to catch up on all that was going on in Toby’s life.

     “It’s good to see that Toby’s found such a good friend. Most skiers on the circuit couldn’t care less about such a deep personal problem. They’d be glad something gave them and edge.”

     “Toby means a lot to me.”

    “I could tell from your letter. It’s why I’m here. What the hell happened?”

     “To tell you the truth, I don’t know. He was doing great, good ski times, focused. Right up until Christmas, then he just fell apart.”

Coach sat there with his elbows on the table, and his hands under his chin. He was looking off in the distance.

     “Christmas? Just before Christmas?” Coach inquired.

     “Yeah. There was a party a couple of day’s before, that’s why I remember. He was wasted then and has been ever since!”

     “That has got to be it,” Coach looked at Tom.

     “What? What’s got to be it?”

     “Three years ago Toby lost his brother in an avalanche two days before Christmas. He was devastated.”

Tom sat back, his mouth open wide in disbelief. He listened intently to the story.

     “They were at Alta, Utah. They were skiing a long the High Traverse. If you have ever been there, you know just how treacherous it really is. They were heading across to ski Eagle’s Nest. Toby’s a very strong skier. His brother was good, but not as god as him. Anyway, as near as anyone can tell, Toby was clowning around. His brother dropped into Eagle’s Nest, Toby followed. He was going to ski down and knock his brother over. There was 18 inches of new powder the night before. It had fallen on sun baked hard back and was loose and unstable. It fractured, created a large slab slide. It took his brother out. He didn’t ski for along time after. We all thought he had gotten past it.. They were as close as brother’s can be. Apparently we were wrong.”

     “He never told me,” Tom said.

     “Toby doesn’t talk about it with any one. He blocked it out like it never happened and threw himself in to downhill racing. When he came back, he was better than he had ever been. Extremely focused and dedicated. He may have taken a few more risks than I approved of.”

Coach worked with bodies not minds. This went deeper than just winning races and training skiers to go fast, safely.

     “It all makes sense now, a few weeks before Toby started getting crazy, we warned a skier off the out of bounds ropes. The next morning we found him, caught in a slide. He had never made it out. Toby saw him from on the hill. His legs were broken, and he had crawled to several yards from the road. His arm was outstretched and he was frozen in an attempt to signal a passing car.

     “That’s what brought it all on again.” Coach agreed. “He never really dealt with it in the first place.”

     “He must have seen his brother lying there when they carried him off.”

 

     “Hi Coach!” Toby yelled walking out of the lodge. He jogged to the table. The two men stared at each other blankly. He acted as if nothing was wrong. It seemed there was a wall around him and nobody new what was inside. Coach hadn’t said a word, when Tom stood, up all of a sudden, knocking over his chair.

     “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you had a brother?”

Toby glared at coach, then back at Tom

     “What’s the difference? It happened a long time ago. He’s gone, there’s nothing you or anybody can do.”

     “I’m your friend for Christ’s sake. I want to help you. Don’t you know that by now!”

     “HE’S GONE TOM! You can’t change that.”

     “I’m not talking about him, it’s you. You can’t tell me you didn’t see his face lying out in the snow that day.”

Toby closed his eyes tightly attempting to ward off the vision. The memories were painful. He didn’t deal with it then, and he didn’t want to deal with now. Tom walked over and took him by the shoulders.

     “Look at me Toby,” Tom’s voice echoed through the Lodge. “I know you loved your brother. No one can ever change that or take it away from you. He’s gone and nothing can undo that. You can’t let him down by throwing away your life also.”

 

     Toby was starting to fight back against Tom’s grip, but he held firmly. If he didn’t keep up the pressure no one would.

     “He didn’t throw his life away and I’m not either, back off Tom. It’s none of your business.”

Toby was beginning to loose it. Tom didn’t want to fight, but he felt he had to draw his emotions out. He began grabbing for Tom attempting to knock him away. All the years of sorrow and anger came out in that moment. His feelings were rushing up in a blur and they were directed at Tom. They wrestled each other to the floor, pushing tables and chairs around. Tom could barely dodge some of his blows. Whenever Toby broke free of Tom’s grip, he started swinging, Tom had to lunge at his midsection to protect himself.

 

     Joe stepped forward to stop it when Coach motioned to him to let it go. When they finally had spent every ounce of energy, they stopped, pushed each other back and fell to the floor breathing heavily. Joe and Coach lifted them up and into a couple of chairs. They took a few minutes to regain their strength as the moment sunk in. Toby looked over at Tom and realized what he had done.

     “You’ve got a lot of guts for and old ski bum,” he said, cracking a faint smile.

     “I was just getting started,” Tom replied rubbing his shoulder.

     “I’d like a few more rounds with you someday,” Toby said.

     “Anytime,” Tom replied, lying through his teeth.

    

     “Coach?”  he said standing up. “How about a few more runs? I’ve got a lot of work to do, I need the advice.”

     “Let’s go,” he said,” Times a wastin.”

He gave a nod to Tom as they turned to begin the next phase of Toby’s training.

     Joe sat down next to Tom who was still trying to catch his breath.

     “I thought I’d seen it all.”

     “I was lucky.”

      “You were great,” he looked at Tom, his arms folded, he was wincing from the thrashing he had just received. He knew Tom was special, but this young man really cared for the people and things he believed in. If he had a son, he would have liked him to be like Tom. The life that could have been he thought, in a past that was all too quickly coming to an end.

Om Namah Bhagavate Vasudevaya, Krishna Das, Breath of Heart

144;Uncle Albert's Mountain,( The Lure Of The Mountain King;) Chapter XIV; January

 

                                                       January

 

     Tom didn’t enjoy holidays. They were all the same: Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, just another excuse to spend money or have a party. Sara had asked him to Thanksgiving dinner with her folks but he refused. A cheeseburger platter at the diner and writing some letters was how he spent the holiday. It was typically the way he caught up with family and friends, it was the least he could do, since he didn’t visit them. It was how he was going to spend New Years. Tom had almost five pages written to his Godson and was still at it. David of course would have to do the actual reading. Young Tom would at least know his God Father was alive and well. Someday he could look back and remember those letters and get to know Uncle Tom and the mountains he loved so deeply.

     Tom had always been an avid reader, He remembered his parents, once a month, opening the family diary and read stories of their history. Uncle Snowshoe, the famed skiing mailman, started the tradition. Through the generations, the album had collected hundreds of stories, it was a unique family tree passed down from father to son. The telling of stories was imprinted in Tom’s heritage. Tom contributed when he was young and he looked forward to including his mountain exploits. He wanted to give back to his family and to others less fortunate all the days he had cherished so fervently. Life itself was one long story he believed, and the best tales were beginning right now. He wrote them down when he could. He felt he owed it to his family, children and future generations. The true great legends are the ones that give back what they take.

 

     He looked out the window. It had started snowing. The bright amber streetlights illuminated the large swirling flakes. They were millions of gold coins falling from heaven.

     “God really knows what he’s doing up there,” Tom thought. Sometimes he wished he had paid a little more attention to religion over the years. Living up in the mountains surrounded by all the incredible wonders makes you realize that it didn’t just happen by accident. A higher power was definitely at work.

 

     He clicked off the light and stretched out on his bead. The room was small. It barely fit the matching dresser and the desk was jammed tight into the corner. It was at least clean and he had slept in some miserable places and some very interesting ones. In Wyoming, he slept in a converted railroad box cars in bunk beds, ate in dinning cars and showered in separate shower cars all for the sake of money for another season pass to Jackson Hole, Wyoming and a chance to ski Corbett’s Colouir. This was a pleasure. The falling snow reminded him of building a leanto in the Arapahoe Natonal Forest. He had slept through a fierce blizzard only to be awakened by a hoot owl. He could have sworn it called out his name. The owl had saved his life.

 

     He looked up at the ticking alarm clock. It read 1:15 in the morning.

     “Happy New Year, Tom My Boy,” he said to himself. The New Year had come and gone while he had been so engrossed in his writing. He reflected cheerfully that a full year had gone bye. It seemed to him that the years flew by quicker. The changes are the only things that remain the same in life. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and silently prayed. Not for any one or anything in particular, but just to let God know he was trying his best to lead a good life. What better way to live than to enjoy and love the magnificent work and the fresh powder he had lain down for him.

     “Thank you,” he whispered.  He drifted off to sleep.

Sri Hanuman Chalesa/Gates of Sweet Nectar, Krishna Das, Door of Faith

143;Uncle Albert's Mountain, Chapter XIII; David and Tom; The Lure of the Mountain KIng

   David Randall was sitting in the Lodge having his third cup of coffee. He was watching a few skiers that were on the mountain this early and enjoying the sun. It was fascinating a wonderful way to live, he thought, but it was not the way for him. Having time to think over the last couple of days, he realized his life was back with his family. How he could even think of throwing it away, made him lonely, and long for them all the more.

     Tom was actually his best friend. They didn’t see each other very much any more. He had a few friends at work, but they were only business associates. The only things they ever talked about were insurance matters. It was extremely boring, even for an insurance man. He turned around to catch the two boys sneaking up behind him.

     “How was Denver?” Toby asked. “They can’t run the company without you?”

     “I wish that was the case. They just need someone to spout orders.”

     “You mean you’re not the radical S.O.B. I’ve grown to love?” Tom questioned.

     “I’m merely a shadow of my former self, caught forever in the red tape of life.”

     “And quite the philosopher also,” Toby added.

     “He was always good at throwing the bull,” Tom interjected.

     “I hope you don’t mind Toby, but I would like to talk to Tom for a few minutes alone.”

     “No problem. I have to talk to Joe anyway. See you later.”

     “I’m afraid not. I am leaving today. It was great to meet you. Good Luck at the Olympics.”

     “Thanks.”

 

     “What’s up D.R.?”

     “I’d like you to come back with me Tom. If not today, then very soon.”

     “What do you mean?”

     “Well for one, we need someone at the office. The pay is excellent. You can stay at my place until you are on your feet, financially. You can get to know your godson. I’ll even spring for the plane fare home. What do you say?”

     Tom looked perplexed, like he didn’t understand a word he had said.

     “You’re kidding me right?”

     “No not at all. Look around you. What do you have? Not a damn thing! I’m giving you a free chance to make whatever you want out of your life. All you have to do is go for it.”

     Tom stood there and just stared at his friend. He couldn’t believe what he had heard. Slowly, he shook his head, and then glanced off into the distance, deep in thought. Tom was always good at covering up his emotions. It was several long minutes before he turned his attention back to his friend.

     “Look Dave, I appreciate the offer, I honestly do. It’s just I can’t go back now. Not yet, I’m not ready. Whenever there was a fight or something that I had to stand for I was the leaver. Left everything that ever meant anything to me. My gaze was always on the open road. A free spirit in the wind if you know what I mean.”

     He didn’t know where the decision had come from. He had grown so much through his relationship with Sara. It was uncharted territory for him. It was in his blood, his being. It was an instinctual part of his being. He cared for little people, places and things. Whenever a decision had to be made, he would think about it for a while and let his heart make the final decision. He would always listen to his heart. When it came to the mountains, especially this mountain, it told him to stay.

     “I think your making a big mistake, Tom,” Dave lectured. “You have got to take a stand somewhere in life. Can’t you see the waste? Don’t you know the monetary value of the days your throwing away?”

     “I can’t believe you’re preaching to me about the value of time. I take every day as it comes. I relish every moment up here like it was my very last. We are only visitor’s here. When I’m an old man D.R. I’ll remember the days on this mountain with a great fondness. Not just for the experience, but also that it was my youth and I didn’t give it away. We didn’t have to go to war. We went to ski, Dave. I climb the Professor on full moon evenings and with my friends we ski the old mine dumps in fresh powder. I don’t want the weight of your financial empire on my shoulders. You seem to be carrying it just fine, pal”

     David knew when it was pointless to argue. Tom made up his mind and nothing, and no one would be able to change it. Tom’s determination was unwavering once he had a goal in sight. If a mountain was involved, he would conquer it, no amount of pain, would alter his course. It was his strong weakness.

     “I guess there is nothing more to say.”

     “It was good to see you again,” Tom hugged his friend.

     Tom watched as David made his way across the parking lot He had the urge to jump up and start it again with him. It wasn’t strong enough to change his mind. The internal fight raged on. The logical side wanting to build all the things he never had. The emotional side needing to drift freely through life, experience every second of everyday.

     “Damn you Snowshoe Thompson why did you have to be my Uncle and fill my head with mountain dreams?” he cursed.

By Your Grace/Jai Gurudev, Krishna Das, Heart As Wide As The World

142;Uncle Albert's Mountain, Chapter XII; The Lure of the Mountain King; The Plan

    ‘’Look, Look at this from the bottom line,” Tom got off the couch and began prancing up and down in front of Joe’s desk.

    “In the simplest and basic terms, we’ve have to make this place worthless to them. If its no good to them, they won’t want it.”

     “I could sell it to the army,” Joe wondered if General Dowe had come up with anything solid he could do.

     “Better yet,” Tom brightened. “You can lease it to the Army. Give them a ninety-nine year unbreakable lease. They can use the facility as they see fit. If they choose to run it as a ski area, so be it. It would be a shame to see it fall in the hands of the Senator. I would rather see the army hold alpine exercises on the slopes with Sherman Tanks.”

     “That’s not such a bad idea. If we can kill the profit, maybe they would think twice about taking us over. We should think of ways to make the ski area and operation loose money.”

     Tom was beginning to understand the merits of operating in the red. They would have to accomplish a tremendous amount negative press and loosen the service up. The Basin was highly successful and the reality that the mountain delivered the real experience of its fame would be very hard to overcome.

     “But seriously, that’s a good idea Tom, I’ll bring that up with the General tomorrow."

   Joe was becoming desperate, his lawyer was right. Everyone wanted him to sell, the Senator had hit them where it counted, in their wallet. Once greed and expansion become the controlling factor, money and power are the only thing that feeds the monster.

140;Uncle Albert's Mountain, (The Lure of the Mountain King; )The Mountain Picnic; Chapter XI

     The perspiration formed a small line of beads across Tom’s forehead. The mid-day sun burned brightly through the azure blue sky as it rose to its zenith. Tom and Sara kicked off their skis. Sara carefully placed a large silver space blanket across a flat spot in the snow and spread out a thick grey woolen blanket for the picnic. Tom removed his backpack set it down and began laying out the lunch he had carefully prepared. Removing a bottle of Mountain Chablis from her pack, she placed it in the snow to chill.

They had chosen a small stand of pines along the side of Lover’s Leap to have their feast. Looking out at the Western slope of the Continental Divide and sitting on “the top of the world” was Tom’s first best destiny.

     “I’ve seen these sights a thousand times, the smell of the pines, the cool breeze, the endless vista’s, and their still awesome.

     “I’m glad you’re here with me Tom,” Sara slipped her arm around his waist. She stood on her toes and gently kissed his neck. The touch of his warm skin sent a shiver of excitement down her spine. She felt young again, her years slipping away, a school-girl in love for the first time. Her heart filling with a warmth and joy that she hadn’t known for several years, he gave her confidence in herself, in her future again. She had become unsure of herself, unsure of her destiny. Tom had his faults, he also had a rare wonderful qualities not found in many men today. He cared about the little people and the little things of life, the things that many overlook on their climb to the top.

     “Oh1 My camera won’t work,” she frowned

She kept playing with it, raising it repeatedly in an attempt to take a picture.

     “Tom! What am I going to do?” she slid her long red hair behind her ear and stamped her boot in the snow in little girl fashion.

He smiled at her issue, it was the little things that endeared her to him. Tom was in trouble as far as Sara was concerned. He had always gotten away before, the mountains came first. This time he sensed it wouldn’t be that easy.

     “It’s O.K. We will remember this day forever.”

Tom pulled Sara close to him and hugged her tightly. He adored everything about her. They sat down and poured the wine.

     “Cheers.”

     “Tom, what are you going to do with the rest of your life?”

     “That’s a hell lot of ground to cover.”

     “No, I mean don’t you want to settle down, raise a family. You can’t drift from mountain to mountain forever. What happened to your generation? You all became dropouts in one-way or another.  Its almost the eighties Tom, the roaring eighties! It is about time you seriously thought about a career! Don’t you want to accomplish something, sales maybe?

     Tom tilted his head back and let go a deep throaty laugh. Her attempt at humor amused him, it was quite charming, especially in the middle of an obviously serious question.

     “Listen! All I’ve ever wanted to do is ski the Rockies. While everyone else was watching movies and dreaming about beaches and Malibu surf, I was dreaming of deep powder chutes and open snowfields. I was never like all, “The Others.” I’ve always been different. I guess we all got messed up with the Vietnam War thing.”

     “Tom, the war has been over for years.”

     “I know it’s just that I’ve given up every job, left my engineering education, sold or traded away everything I have ever owned to go higher and higher into the mountains. Look closely at all of this. The whiteness, the vastness, the warm alpine sunshine, the crisp clean air, the smell of the pines, all the wealth in the world can’t buy this grandeur. If you climbed to the summit you can see Mount Evans the highest peak in Colorado. I will climb it. Then there is Mount Mc Kinnely in Washington State. I will stand on top of it. These are only in the mid-teens and twenties. What about the Alps? The Himalaya’s?”

     “I love you, but you have got to get your head out of the clouds. Get your head out Tom or you’ll never have anything. Not even me!”

     “How can I give all of this up?” he gestured at the jutting peaks. “And what should I give all of this up for? The security of surrounding myself with material possessions, there isn’t any security in those things. There pretty to look at, wonderful to touch and show people. Impress people with your worldly possessions. The winner is the one who dies with the most toys. We live in a society obsessed with symbols, status symbols. I mean even this mountain is a symbol. The highest lift serviced mountain in North America. Joe was a Patrolman here when he was our age. He went back to work in the sweat shops and car factories of Detroit, worked and built a fortune and sold his soul until he could buy it. He is the greatest symbol to the America’s.” Tom clenched his fist. “Now the multi-nationals are going to take this all away from him. They always get everything they want. When they don’t they change the rules, buy the politicians until they do. They control everybody and everything. Everyone conforms, like little lambs. They bow and prey to the great neon God’s run by men in suits and ties. I’ll never turn in to a “Corporate Whore”. I can’t sell out. I’ll find a way. I won’t be a good little silent automaton. You can’t come down on me.”

     He reached around to embrace her in case she took it the wrong way. They fell back in the blanket laughing and giggling as he kept the embrace, their bodies entwined passionately filled with expectations of love. Tom pulled the second blanket over them. He softly caressed Sara, holding her tightly. Unbuttoning her shirt, she reached up and held his head in her hands and kissed him. Gently, she laid his head across her breasts. Slowly, tenderly, ever more passionately they fulfilled their desires. Their hearts pulsing pounding, as the mountain sunshine bathed them. They gave to each other completely.

     They both lay facing the billowy cumulus clouds, watching then form kaleidoscope patterns. The thermals blowing lightly nudged them along. Tom held Sara’s hands tightly in his. They were two small beings, dots on a nature painting, dwarfed by he vastness of the spiraling peaks, their lives like the clouds passing bye. What lay ahead would soon form and become. Everything that had taken place, had already disappeared. Time the elusive commodity, stood still. There was only the here and the now.

     “I love you Tom.”

     “I love you also, Sara,” Tom surprised himself with his response. It was the last thing he thought he would have said and he was terrified of it. Having spent most of his life, alone, on the circuit, drifting from mountain to mountain, he had become his own best friend. He was ready to spend his life with this girl.

     “Taking a nap,” Lance Berry yelled. He was leaning on his poles by a large evergreen.

     Tom and Sara both sat up startled by the intrusion.

     Lance skied over kicking a large rooster tail of snow on the blanket wrapped around them.

      “What would your mother say, young lady?”

     Sara was scared and embarrassed at the same time.

     “Buzz off Lance,” Tom yelled. “Don’t you have anything better to do than to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong/”

     “Better than what you two where up to,” he gave them both a disgusted look.

     “Anytime you want Lance! You just say the word. I’ll be there.” Tom was generally a peaceful man.

     “You wouldn’t stand a chance little man,” Lance mocked as he skied off down the trail.

     Tom watched as he skied away. He realized Lance was probably right.

     “Nice going babe,” Sara slapped him on the back. “He could have killed you.”

     “He’s a clown. Let’s eat.”

     They spent the rest of the day enjoying the sun and the mountain. Sara was glad that Tom had professed his love. He had never been that vulnerable before. There was nothing more she could do. She had fallen deeply. Her experience had taught her to let nature take its course. 

The Hanuman Chalisa (Tutorial); Krishna Das

138- Where Do You Go, When You Have Had Too Much To Dream Last Night?

 Attachment is blinding; it lends an imaginary halo of attractiveness to the object of desire-----Swami Sri Yukteswar, in "Autobiography of a Yogi"

Photo Credit from: Of Mountains and Men, Albert Bianchine.
 Attachment can be motivating, crippling and debilitating. Have you ever been attached to something or someone? It differs from Obsession which can be a compulsion, infatuation or delusion. There have been several people places and things in my life that have had this affect upon me. Nothing has been greater than my attachment to and obsession for the sale of Arapahoe Basin Ski Area to Ralston Purina Corporation in Dillon, Colorado in 1978.

I read somewhere that is was not so much about the actual event in history as it was the reaction to that event by the artist. My belief is the need of the artist to explain what they have witnessed. The most prominent examples that I can think of are All Quiet on the Western Front or Cry the Beloved Country. The authors of both witnessed something that so affected them that they had the need to explain it. My mentor once told me that most people begin writing out of anger. It was enlightening to me on many levels. I turned twenty five years old the year that A-Basin was sold. To all of us that wintered there that year it was the death of a dream. Not Just Joe Jankovsky's dream, it was the American Dream. I had watched corporations come in every where that I had lived as a young man and buy up businesses, housing, farms and start wars in foreign countries over oil. To say that we loved a mountain is to put it mildly. The motto of The Basin at the time was Nothing In Moderation and it was billed as the Highest lift serviced mountain in North America at 13,050 ft. All mountains had their claims to fame but A Basin had the real thing. (Ski Above All)

My attachment for the Mountain and my obsession to in some way write about it has possessed my soul every day since my first writing workshop at SUNY Albany in the spring of 1979. I have written poems, short stories, and now am working on my novel (co-authored with my musician friend in the 1980's, Gordon Grey) The book along with the music score for the film ( yes film! thanks to my film and screen writing mentor Ira Wood and his Aspen Film and Screen Writing Intensive, that I now am pulling out my first Act complet to the plot point.) Finally ever so slowly over the years has come together. Never in my wildest imagination or dreams would I have considered to find myself at the age of Seventy Years Old pulling out pieces of manually typed pages and stacks of manilla folders with reams of notes and drafts. But I am and the feeling is like nothing I have ever known. Sometimes I feel as if I am being guided and coaxed not only by all of the wonderful teachers, writers, poets, musicians and mentors I have been blessed to have been associated with, but by a Divine Will or Source that has kept me motivated all the minutes, hours and years to pursue my dream through all the trials and tribulations that life is.

The very final song on the Music Score now that the Ballad of Tom Dillon is written is to be a rousing remake of the Song, I Had Too Much To Dream Last Night, The Electric Prunes.

115-Uncle Albert's Mountain,(The Lure Of The Mountain King,) First Runs:Chapter IV

 

 

                                            First Runs

 

 

 

Tom and Toby with Jilly at the wheel left for A-Basin early the next morning. She had some business to take care of and offered to give them a ride. What her business was she never mentioned.

     “It was a birthday present from Daddy,” she remarked.

It must be nice Tom thought as he admired the deep blue Jeep Cherokee, to have all this laid at your feet. He knew she didn’t appreciate the things she had been given. The car wouldn’t last long the way she drove it.

     “No matter, Daddy will buy her a new one,” he thought to himself.

She had been nice enough to give them a place to stay. She also gave then a ride to the mountain everyday. Tom was grateful. You can’t have everything. How well he knew this to be true. He could have had all these things, if only he had given up his mountain dreams. Instead, he had chosen to give up his neat secure family plan. He couldn’t equate cubicles and sterile business environments with being happy.

     “There’s something wrong here,” he would say to his girlfriend, “There’s got to be more to life.”

     “If you don’t stop your dreaming Tom and start living your life, you’ll never amount to anything.” It was her standard reply. He took her advice. He started to live his life, started it all over again.

     “I’ve got no regrets at all Toby,” he said, “This is where it all begins.”

     “Where it all ends,” Toby added.

They slid sideways into the parking lot, barely missing Joe’s Mercedes, Jilly locked the breaks and came to a halt.

     “Thanks for the lift,” Toby said smiling.

They both jumped out of the car. Toby leaned over after getting out.

     “Maybe we’ll see you later for a drink at the Moose.”

     “I might go,” she replied casually, “I’ve got some things to take care of. I might stop in later to see Sara.”

Toby was smitten with her. He was so mesmerized that he didn’t notice her flippant attitude.

     “See you later Jilly, Bye,” he slammed the door.

She sat there for a second, the car idling. She took off the tires spinning and spraying Toby with loose gravel. It had been spread over the packed icy snow.

    “Hey, whatta ya tryin to do?” he yelled.

     “Wouldn’t want to get on her bad side,” Tom said.

     “Any sides fine with me,” Toby watched her drive away.

     “Come on I want you to meet the man who made all this possible.”

They started for the Lodge. Reaching the first step, Tom glanced up to see Joe sitting, sipping a cup of coffee. He filled the picture window. Holding the cup between his hands, he was idly starring up the mountain. They pulled open the large glass doors and walked across the Main Lodge.

     “Morning Joe,” Tom called out.

     “Right on time,” Joe glanced at his watch. He admired punctuality.

     “Toby White, Joe Jacobason.” The two shook hands.

     “All ready for work, Boss” Tom said enthusiastically.

     “Today the mountain, tomorrow the work,” Joe proclaimed. “I’m gonna give you boy’s the grand tour. Are ya interested?” Joe started toward the exit.

      “Alright!” Toby yelled as the boys fell in step with him.

     “Thanks Joe, I was hoping to get a few run’s in today,” Tom grinned.

He felt the familiar rush of adrenalin, at thought of the powder. They walked out the door.

     “Here you go Toby,” Joe handed him a lift ticket.

     “Thanks Joe,” Toby said, “I’ve heard a lot about the Basin. I’ve heard there’s a lot of heart stopping trails up there.”

     “Yes we have. There is 18 inches of new today.”

     “The storm seemed to move out as fast as it moved in. I have never seen storms like these before,” Tom remarked.

     “It isn’t uncommon for us to have to spend the night in the lodge, they are so intense. The Professor has to be bombed or it could Avalanche and close the Pass and the Parking lot. It is the top of America here!”

A few cumulus clouds drifted over as the sun shimmered off the crystals.

They bypassed the line of skiers and Joe led them through the ski patrol entry. Tom was happy he didn’t enjoy waiting in line with other skiers. He enjoyed skiing right on the lifts.

     “Single?” Joe asked a pretty young girl standing alone in the lift line.

     “My pleasure,” she replied as they lined up and waited for the next chair.

Tom recognized the woman loading the skiers on the chairs. The chairs had to be slowed as they came rushing around the bull wheel to scoop up the skiers. She had a small straw broom that she brushed and punded the chairs with to rid them of their snow.

     “Hi Tom,” the attendant smiled.

     “Hi, beautiful day,” he said returning her smile.

     “Sally,” she laughed loudly. She knew Tom didn’t remember her name.

     “Hi Sally, this is Toby.”

     “Nice to meet ya.” Toby said.

     “Same here,” she replied as she released her grip on the chair and the boys sat and pulled the safety bar down over them.

The chair swung silently back and forth as they were being drawn from the base of the mountain toward the top. It bounced slowly up and down in between the towers. The world dropped away into silence as they rose above the treetops. The evergreens were heavily burdened with the snowfall from the previous evening. They began to thin out and the jagged rock ledges and cliffs became more pronounced. The trails white swaths cut through the pines were thick with the light dry powder snow. The rubber shiv wheels squeaked and squealed as the heavy stranded wire bounced the boys across the lift tower. Tom caught his breath. He had ridden hundreds of lifts. It was always the same. The quick little bounces across the towers scared him. The air began to grown noticeably thinner and the sun’s rays seemed to bore down more intensely from the pristine blue sky. The wind began blowing stiffer, stronger as they rose above all cover. They became small specks amidst a vast sea of whiteness. They were dwarfed by their smallness and insignificance against the silence and strangeness of the massive mountainside. The boys looked at each other and back out across the distant horizon with out speaking. The unspoken thought of seeing, seeing for the first time further than the naked eye has ever seen, the deep blue of the sky, pierced by the ragged snow capped peaks. A wilderness in all directions, the lift continued its ascent toward what appeared to be a small brown dot on a far distant peak. The dot taking the shape and form of a shack, a tiny slab wood miner’s shack as the lift drew closer.

The boy’s raised the tips of their skis as they approached the summit ramp. They raised the safety bar and stood quickly as the chair pushed them along to where they could skate free of the lift. The chair resumed its endless journey around the turn style and its descent back to the base. Toby and Tyler skied up next to Joe.

     “Four o’ clock by the fireplace then,” Joe said. The young lady began skiing away.

    “Careful,” Tom said.

     “Don’t go there,” Joe said quickly, “I’m good friends with her dad. Ready to go skiing?”

     “We’ll follow the leader,” Toby said.

     “I thought we’d start traversing the headwall. You’ve got to tuck it and gather as much speed as you can. If you don’t you’ll wind up climbing passed the seven cornices. It’s a difficult herring bone hike up the front side to the top of the Palavachini then over into the chutes of Lover’s Leap.”

The conditions are pristine Tom thought as he slid effortlessly through the soft powder and crouched down into his tuck. He picked up his poles and tucked them under arms as he began rushing along the giant headwall. His goggles flattened out the light and mountain, but would protect him from the rushing wind. He was slicing through the snow silently on his skis, except for an occasional clacking as they would come together and touch. Tom found that if he would sit back on the tails of his skis the tips would rise out on to the top of the snow. If he leaned forward on them they would sink down into the snow, as if he were riding on a roller coaster. He was gathering momentum as he raced faster and faster across the massive headwall. The heights were dizzying as the inside of his thighs began to warm and burn slightly. It was a comfortable warm feeling. Tom was suddenly drawn down and compressed by the force of the gravity as he hit the transition. He held his skis straight and separated by about four inches. He didn’t dare cross his tips or catch and edge now, if he did he’d have a giant yard sale. Tom quickly shot up the opposite side of the hill, and skated the last few yards up to Joe. The sweat dripped from his forehead and the blood throbbed in his temples, his lungs labored heavily, trying to extract every particle of oxygen from the air at twelve thousand five hundred feet.

Joe had stopped alongside a young skier who had climbed under a roped off trail marker to his left.

     “That trails been closed for a good reason,” the veins in Joe’s neck stood out pronounced by his anger. “We’ve had some major slides down those chutes. The trail is roped off for a Damn good reason. We can’t let anyone risk skiing them today with the conditions. We’ve already bombed this area and finished our avalanche work. They were determined not to be safe. The skier slipped back under the ropes and took off down the open trail. He didn’t say a word.

     “I used to do stupid things like that,” Toby admitted breathlessly.

     “I don’t believe how brazen these kids are these days,” Joe shook his head. “They have no conception or fear of death. They think nothing can hurt them. They are invincible.”

     “Oh come on Joe,” Tom challenged. “You can’t stand there and tell me that you never did anything crazy or daring. You wouldn’t be here today, if you didn’t crave a thrill. You need the slim chance of defeat to get your blood pumping.”

     “You always have an answer for everything, don’t you Tom. Just because I survived my mistakes doesn’t mean you will my boy,” Joe spat out. He abruptly skied away.

The two men stood there shocked by his anger.

     “Well excuse me,” Tom snapped.

     “He’s right you know,” Toby defended Joe. “One mistake up here and you’ve made your last.”

     “They’re my mistakes to make,” Tom skied off down into the evergreens.

The rest of the morning was spent in relative silence. They made several runs. Each man reflecting his own feelings against the start of another winter season, where you have been, who you are, and where you are going is inconsequential to the mountains. You are just a visitor for the moment, a visitor with a vast world at your feet.

     “How about lunch, I’m starved.”

     “Sounds great to me,” Toby patted his stomach.

     “Last one down buys,” Joe challenged skiing off toward the base.

The boys started skating and polling. Toby was the winner, Tom finished second, and Joe trailed the boys.

     “Isn’t that Jilly over there? What’s she doin?” Joe pointed to the lower parking lot. “It looks like she is taking pictures. There’s something strange about her.”

They all kicked off their skis.

     “No! She’s nice,” Toby protested. “She gave us a place to stay. Besides, she’s cute.”

     “Bet she’s charging you well,” Joe said. “You can do better and she doesn’t need the money.”

     “It sure is a nice place to live,” Tom added in support. “So what if she Daddy’s little girl. Somebody has to be.”

     “O.K. I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt,” Joe gave in. “I’d keep my eye on the lookout for trouble.”

     “Always do,” Tom had to have the last word. There was always something more that had to be said, if he wasn’t the one to say it, he felt cheated. He’d have to be careful, though. Joe had already seen it and he would hate to loose his respect. He admired Joe. All that Joe had worked for and achieved left him in awe of the man behind the mountain. He was living proof that great men still existed. If you look hard enough you can realize your dreams. Luck is man made Tom thought.

This left Tom feeling the frustrations of life on the ski circuit. Next to Joe, he was a worthless drifter with nothing but a pocket full of snowflakes and memories of ski towns to call his own. Someday I’ll stop chasing snowflakes and sunsets and settle down and collect my rewards he promised himself. Except with that thought came the flashback of all the promises he had already broken, the promises of someday that never came.