153;Uncle Albert's Mountain,(The Lure; )Chapter XX; The Corporate Offices and The Takeover

 

     Denver was less than an hours drive and she was already on her third cigarette. This meeting was everything to her. It would show the real powers in Summit County just what she was made of. She wasn’t proud of the way she had arrived at this prestigious position. Everyone does it she thought. Why shouldn’t she? She hoped Daddy never finds out. He wouldn’t like her sleeping with one of his business associates. If he ever learned the truth, he could easily destroy all the plans she had made. Her mother had cheated on him several years before. It had never been the same. If he had only known how many times she had slept around, he wouldn’t have taken her back. She would be lucky if he had let her live. You don’t mess with Daddy.

 

     She turned down Speer Boulevard toward the twelve story glass and steel Corporate Offices of the Senator, approaching the building where the takeover was being designed. A young valet took her car at the entrance, and she walked in to the elevator past the reception desk as the young woman behind it smiled and said, ”He’s expecting you.”

The door slid open as she approached clutching her briefcase tightly and stepped in. The elevator was empty. Jilly pressed the Loft Button, where number twelve should be. She rode up planning her strategy. Her black dress was smart well groomed but not sexy. Sex was the last thing she wanted them to notice. It was what had gotten her through the door, her abilities would have to do the rest. She would be pleasant but not seductively so. The older Board members would see right through her, her most attractive attribute would have to be confidence. She had the drive and the heart to be the best, but she also had all the fine trimmings. The right combination of each would take her to the Top. The elevator came to the top and the doors slid open. Jilly stepped out and saw people running in every direction. They were checking their watches and carrying stacks of papers. It was frantic with people trying to keep the offices moving along smoothly. Loving to see people working hard, it gave her a deep sense of security. This is the way I’m going to run the Basin, she thought. No one will slack off on my team.

 

     Jilly walked down the long grey corridor passed the many different branches of the corporate giant. Each small cubicle was alive, crawling with activity. Every cubicle performing its own function, each worker a drone performing there task. She noticed there were very few decorations, anywhere. She felt a stark coldness in the cubes were the single purpose was only------work. Walking into the main office at the end of the hallway, the receptionist looked up. She eyed her coldly but it was pleasant. Jilly sat and waited for her moment of truth. She watched her chewing and snapping her gum, answering her phone and taking memos.

 

     “What a sleaze,” she thought,” I wonder how she got this job?”

     “They’ll see you now, last door on the right.”

Jilly stood without saying a word. She stopped briefly at the wooden door. Meeting room #1 was etched into the polished brass plate. She adjusted her scarf, and buttoned the next higher button on her blouse. Smoothing the wrinkles in her skirt she took a deep breath and closed the door behind her.

     “Gentlemen,” she smiled, looking each of them directly in the eye. Walking to the head of the long table, she laid her briefcase in front of her. Clicking open the two latches, she removed her documents. She raised her head to look at them, although this time she did not smile.

Sita Ram; Krishnabai, Jai Sahaja; Mooji Mala Music

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

150;Uncle Albert's Mountain,( The Lure Of The Mountain King;) Chapter XVII, The Corporate Lawyers

      It’s a fair offer Joe”

Joe was standing motionless with his back to his lawyer, staring out the window. It was a fair offer but that wasn’t the point.

     “How the hell can you sit there and tell me that. God Dammit! You’re supposed to be on my side.”

     Joe walked around to the front of the desk, and sat down in one of the three leather chairs. They were all facing John Staller, Joe’s attorney of thirty years.

     “Give me a break, huh. I’m on your side. I’m a realist. We’ve held on for a long time because you have friends in high places. You’ve got to understand, Joe, they’re gone, and now the Senator is the Valley. He owns or controls everything.”

     “The Senator is not the issue here. I shouldn’t have to sell him anything.”

     “Jesus Joe, will you wake up. The Senator is the issue. He takes whatever he want s because he owns the whole frigging valley, it's all gone cept you, Joe. They’ve convinced everyone you’re an eccentric old crazy fool who wants to live out his last days at the “Top of the World.”
    Joe let out a chuckle.

     “Sometimes I feel like I am John. I feel like I’m beating my head against an unbreakable concrete ceiling.”

     “Listen! I understand what this means to you. You worked your entire life to own the Basin. It’s gone, like most of the great men of the Tenth Mountain Armor Division, you can’t fight them any longer. When that team of Corporate Whore Lawyers come back in, they will be expecting only one answer Joe.”

 

     Joe stood up, tucked his khaki shirt into his denims and went to the window. He stood looking toward the summit of the big basin. Even from this distance it rose piercing the skies. He shook his head.

     “Send them back in, he whispered, barely audible.”

The Mountain Chalisa, Krishna Das, Flow of Grace

149;Uncle Albert's Mountain,( The Lure Of The Mountain King;) Chapter XVI, Sara

   Sara stopped and stared longingly into the window of Branigan’s Shop. The hand tooled golden brown leather cowboy boots were still there, right next to the gorgeous knee high riding jodhpurs. They had black and red stitching in a simple yet striking design. The boots would be perfect for her date next Thursday night.

     “Aren’t they absolutely adorable,” she cooed.

     “They sure would turn a lot of heads,” Tom replied, “Why don’t you try’em on.”

     “I already have. The fit is perfect. They wouldn’t even have to be broken in.”

     “So, buy them.”

     “No, no, they’re too expensive.”

     “Come on,” he nudged her. “You need a new pair anyway. Besides, ya said they were perfect. Go ahead, go for it.”

     “Tom, I just can’t afford it,” she retorted, her eyes riveted to the boots. She was struggling desperately with herself to forget logic. She had the urge to splurge for once.

Sara turned and walked away, her logic winning again. Tom grabbed her arm, and quickly pulled her into the store.

     “Come on, I wanna see you in them.”

 

     “Hi, Mr. Brannigan,” Sara approached the counter.

     “Well, hello there Sara,” the soft-spoken owner replied. He towered above them both.

     “How’s your Dad? Haven’t seen’em round lately.”

     “He’s fine. Moms got the flu, but she’s getting better.”

     “You tell her to get plenty of rest before she goes back to work. You know how that flu is round here, if she don’t it’ll never leave till spring.”

     Tom loved the easy relaxed atmosphere. No pressure, no running around, no hustle, no bustle, it was a simple way of life.

     “What can I do for you today?”

     Sara stood gently running her fingers through her hair. She was curling the ends between her thumb and forefinger, staring hopefully at the leather boots in the window.

     “Oh… It’s the boots again,” he knowingly remembered the last time she had come in, how much she had wanted them.

    “Can I try them just once more?”

     He smiled widely and walked to the window, lifting them off the display. They were his last pair in that style. They happened to be her size. She slid into them like they were made for her body.

     “Whatta ya think Tom?” She pirouetted across the floor in front of him. Her blue denim skirt flared out as she twirled and danced, her auburn hair flowing out in an arc away from her body.

     “You’re the Sweetheart of the Rodeo, in them,” Tom said lovingly.

     Mr. Brannigan stood watching the young loving couple. He thought of his wife and he, many years before. He scratched his chin.

     Tell ya what I’m gonna do, darling,” his eyes twinkled. “I’ll give ‘em to ya for cost, since they’re the last pair left. Your folks helped me through some very lean years. I think it’s about time I returned the favor.”

     “Sara’s parents had run the General Store in Old Dillion for close to thirty years. She remembered Mr. Brannigan coming in ever since she was a little girl. Her father had given him credit when he had needed it most. There were some difficult years in the early Sixties. The Denver water Board had begun buying up Dillion Property from the owner’s who were unable to raise tax money during the Depression years. By the late Forty’s they owned most of Old Dillion. In the late Fifty’s, they all but crippled the community by announcing plans for damming the lush delta formed by the trinity of rivers, the  mighty, Blue, Ten Mile, and Snake Rivers, referred to as Nah-Oon-Kara, The Valley of the Blue, by the Uncompaghre Ute Native Tribes. They would build Roberts Tunnel, 23 miles long, starting in 1951 under the Continental Divide Mountains, to the North Fork and South Platte River, to supply the blossoming Denver Metropolis with much needed water. They had given the homeowners and businessmen until 1961 to vacate. If it hadn’t been for the closeness of the Community, they might never have survived. They not only survived, but with the new Reservoir and Eisenhower Tunnel through the Divide, they began prospering. The townspeople still helped each other.

     “Really,” Sara couldn’t hide her delight. Tom stood grinning from ear to ear. Mr. Brannigan grabbed her old boots, and put them in the box. He went behind the counter and wrote out the sales slip.

     “If you can’t afford them now, give me what you can, and come back and pay the balance when you’ve got it.”

     Sara kept looking down at her feet as they walked out the door.

     “You take care now Sara Lyn.”

     “Thanks again Mr. Brannigan,”Sara waved as they went out into the street.

     She slid out of her blue knapsack, and gave Tom a big hug.

     “Wha- What’s that for?”

     “Well, you were the one who made me go in there in the first place. If not for you, I’d still be in those beat up old things. Besides,” she said, pulling on her pack and flipping her hair out from under it. “A girl doesn’t need a reason to hug her man.”

 

     She turned and started down the street, Sara loved him more and more each day. Every little thing they did together was special. She looked down at her feet and started crying.
     “Now what are you crying for?”

     “Honestly Tom, you may know everything there is to know about mountains, but when it comes to women. You’re such a big jerk! She started walking away. Tom stood there raising his hands.

     “What did I do?”

     Every moment they shared was better than the last. Her only problem was in not being able to say it. She couldn’t hold it much longer. Win or lose, she had to face the consequences. She hated not knowing the future, and was afraid of living for today.

Narayana/For Your Love, Krishna Das, Heart As Wide As The World

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

147-Why Must We Meditate?

 We must meditate to attain deep faith, After we received the first contact of God, we should then seek to develop the contact into a greater consciousness. That is what Jesus asked everyone to do. He wanted them to receive his omnipresent consciousness. And that is what Paramahansaji teaches. He brings us God and all he asks is that we receive.- Rajarsi Janakananda, "Rajarsi Janakananda: Great Western Yogi"

In God Talks With Arjuna: The Bhagavad Gita a spiritual text filled with wisdom about life and purpose  as well as powerful advice on living virtuously but authentically without succumbing to life's temptations or other people's dreams you will understand the reason to meditate to know God. The first time that you know (Talk With) God you may be overwhelmed. My fist time was skiing Arapahoe Basin in Colorado (13,050ft.) I had just fallen several hundred feet down a headwall after jumping off the hanging cornice that is along the traverse to the Pallavicini (before the Pali Lift, 1978) another skier cut in front of me and I caught the tails of his skis with the tips of mine. I began performing tip rolls down the steep face and every time I came back up on my skis I thought, I would break my neck burying my head in the deep powder on the next roll. After what seemed like an eternity of rolls I was able to throw myself on to my side to stop the rolls. I stood shakily resting on my poles with my knees knocking together and took stock of my well being. To my surprise I was unhurt. In my mind, I had crossed the line, the line in the mountains that if you step over it, you will die. Standing there shaking I asked God, "What do you want of me?" I was twenty-five with no direction.The answer came as clearly as if I had been in a conversation with you, "Be A Teacher!" In my bewilderment I don't think I grasped what fully happened. It was beyond my comprehension what the reality of what it was. I climbed and skied all over the U.S. and Canada many times in my life after, but it always remained in my mind what God had spoken to me. Enrolling in writing classes I was to meet my Mentor and work many years with her in my skills. (The Subject of Waltzing With Rhada.) It wasn't until a Writing Conference in Telluride that I would meet my Guru (Gurdev Paramahansa Yogananda) in the form of The Autobiography of a Yogi and begin my Journey into Self-Realization. Through Meditation and Spiritual Awareness would I understand what God wanted of me all those years ago. I write ( now at 70) because I was told to "Teach" and while I didn't understand it then, I do now and in the coming weeks, months and years up to the 2026 Winter Olympics I will not be silent as to the happenings of the world. Especially Education and Starvation of Peoples and Children (Both Figuratively and Literally), there will be no more Silence!

Mere-Gurudev, Krishna Das

Lord Krishna, Om Namah Shivaya, Krishna Das

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.

137- When a Miracle Appears, Believe It

The law of miracles is operable by any man who has realized that the essence of creation is light. A master is able to employ his divine knowledge of light phenomena to project instantly into perceptible manifestation ubiquitous atoms. The actual form of the projection whatever it be:( a tree, a medicine, a human body) is determined by the yogi's wish and by the power of will and visualization. Paramahansa Yogananda, Best Quotes

 Ever since the conclusion of the XXIV Winter Olympic Games in China my thoughts have turned to Cortina, Italy for the next Olympic Games. Officially the XXV Milan-Cortina d' Ampezzo Winter Olympics. If you read my blogs leading up to the XXIV Winter Olympics I challenged children, students and adults to create works of art, musical, written or drawn to explain what Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness means to them and submit them to the Olympic Organizing Committee. My choice was a collection of short stories titled the Mountain Pearl which was published on my blog (Post 76-91).  I wish to double my efforts to pursue publishing for the Olympics in 2026. The Olympic Logo can be applied for and you can distribute the work to the Olympic and Para-Olympic Athletes from all the countries that are participating. It is a staggering number of Countries that you can reach in one effort. There will be close to 3900 athletes in the Winter Olympics in 2026.

Enter the Miracle, all of my energy and efforts have been directed toward Europe and Cortina d'Ampezzo. My writing was revolving around Chamonix, France and European Mountains. The truth is they have always been a beacon beckoning me to Europe anyway. My youth had exhausted American Mountains. The only exception was that of Arapahoe Basin in Colorado. This year, after my retirement in 2019, my manuscript about my youth spent wintering at A-Basin was dragged out and I have begun a second draft. It has lain idle since leaving the writing workshops of my mentor in Niskayuna, New York. My life, work, our Equine Rescue Ranch all came before my book. Then came Covid and the world just about ended, and I rediscovered my desire to tell the tale of the Lure of the Mountain King. My subsequent posts of recent will give you a small preview of the work. Back to the Miracle before me, due to the lack of snow in the mountains of Italy the Olympics in Cortina have been cancelled and the Olympic Organizing Committee has awarded the 2026 Winter Olympics to Park City, Utah, who had bid for the 2030 Olympics. Can you hear the trumpets as the walls of Jehrico are falling? No really! The timing for the culmination of the completion of The Lure and the publication of the Mountain Pearl are impeccable. 

Believe the Miracle if you see it! Do not doubt that your Lord has worked Wonders and Magic right before your very heart and soul to prove to you that you are supposed to be doing exactly what you are doing here and now. Do not delay a second or minute longer in the completion and submission of your work for publication. The dream of publishing for the Olympics has been in my being since the 1980 Winter Olympics in Lake Placid. My book of Poetry was published with the 2010 Olympics in Calgary, Alberta Cananda in my sights. The Lord truly works in mysterious ways. Look for the completion of the Lure of the Mountain King and possibly Dancing with Rhada (my time spent with my mentor).

I would like to issue a Call to Arms for the Children. Let's call it what it is. It is a call for The Children's Crusade. The banning of books and defunding of Libraries is beyond my comprehension as a author and sentient human being. Never before have I been more motivated to use my writing and marketing abilities to educate against the assault on our Children's and Our minds. Hope to be hearing from the silent majority.

135;Uncle Albert's Mountain,(The Lure of the Mountain King;)The Meeting at the Moose Jaw; Chapter X

 The meeting was brief and to the point. Everyone showed up and sat silently while Joe told the story. He hoped he could settle it here and now. Someone in the group asked, ”When?” It was the only word spoken by anyone except Joe. He had invited them to the Moose Jaw because he had wanted them to hear it from him. Their spirits had been broken, sitting slouched at the bar motionless and mute, like a team that had just lost their bid for the playoffs. All except Tyler and David that is. They were having a grand old time, laughing obnoxiously loud at whatever foolish thing that popped into their drunken minds. Tom would glance over at Joe standing in the corner talking quietly with Tiger the owner of the Jaw.

     “Why the hell would I care?” he asked David out of the blue. It doesn’t make any difference to me if he sells the damn mountain or not.”

David sat there listening to his friend, he just let him ramble and get it out of his system.

     “I’m gonna enjoy the season, even of it kills me,” Tom said dejectedly. “No way, No way am I gonna let him get to me. He did what he did, and it’s over no sense it crying over melted snow.”

     “That’s the spirit,” David attempted to change the subject, “Hey! Get my buddy another beer.”

Joe looked over at them for a moment and then caught Sara’s attention. He waved his hand above his head to signal the next round was on him.

     “Next round on Joe,” she yelled to the group. No one seemed to pay attention. Several looked up and didn’t acknowledge the gesture. They went right on with their conversation. They were huddled in a small little group discussing their future and wondering how and if life could ever be the same without the Basin.

     “This is one sad crew,” Sara leaned over the bar in front of Tom. “Why don’t you play some tunes, here’s some tips from the bar, play C-4 that’ll get em goin,” she handed David the money. He stepped over to the jukebox inserted some coins and looked through the remaining songs. The music crackled and the Rolling Stones’ Satisfaction blared out of the system.

Tom laughed and began drumming on the bar.

     “Great choice.”

     Sara knew that he would think that she played the song with the Basin in mind. She actually played it for herself and Tom’s never ending quest for freedom. She watched him sway to the beat and wondered if there could ever be a future for them.

     “Even after all these years that song still says it all,” Sara smiled at Tom.

     “They were prophets,” Tom replied singing, “I can’t get no… satisfaction,” the song continued on. More than half of his memories were tied to all these old songs. Every time he heard them, another flash from the past would start Tom thinking back. This one brought his very first girlfriend to mind. She had been a sweet girl and they had young fun. She wouldn’t do any thing more than kiss. “I can’t get no….” he sang again as the song faded away.

     “Are we still on for tomorrow night?”

     “We sure are.”

     “What about David? You can’t just brush him off.”

     “He has some business in Denver all day. He won’t be back until Thursday.”

     “Great! I don’t have to be here till six the following day. You can spend the night and we’ll have the next day to ourselves.” There is never enough time to spend with him, she thought.