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.

125-Reconciling the Memories of Past, Present and Future

 I find my earliest memories covering the anachronistic features of a previous incarnation. Clear recollections came to me of a distant life, a yogi amidst the Himalayan snows. These glimpses of the past, by some dimensionless link, also afforded me a glimpse of the future.

Paramahansa Yogananda

Do you ever have the memories of distant or future incidents. a sense of having previously belonged or an inkling of what will be? How do child prodigies write complicated symphonies or solve complex equations? My belief is that of reincarnation as mystics have for centuries discussed. the interest in past life experiences are relevant in your life today. You are free to believe or not to believe. I choose to believe. 

All things in the world today are often stated as absolutes. The parties of all politicians believe their platforms are righteous and true, yet death, suffering, iniquity, and starvation seem to be the by product of their regimes. It is beyond comprehension that humanity is able to move forward and progress at all with the thinking and mentality that is present. We must realize that our resources and the earth that we live on are limited in the destruction and devastation that man inflicts upon it. Open your heart and your mind to change and growth today. No longer be constrained by the darkness of Maya and the deceit it brings. Look to the future! Become the Mystic on the Mountain! You are yogi of your own life, use this power wisely. Act today to make life a better tomorrow for all, not just to increase your own fortunes, but to increase the fortunes of all. Yes Yogananda! We have spent our lifetimes in the mountains of North America and are saddened at the state of our atmosphere, water, earth and the drastic change in our climate. We have watched our glaciers, rivers, streams, lakes and National Treasures disappear. The time of silence has come and gone. It is now time to shout from the highest climbs of the world to stop the madness and mayhem! The rant of Today is to take up arms (not necessarily armaments), pens, banners, podcasts, blogs, posts, and print. If you wish for your children and your children's children to have a world to live in you must speak now or forever hold your voice. Be the Voice of Reason!

118-Uncle Albert's Mountain,( The Lure Of The Mountain King ; )The Senator; Chapter VII

 

                                                               VII

 

                                                         The Senator

 

 

     Jilly slid her silk robe across her thighs. She inhaled deeply on her cigarette and let

the smoke billowed out. She stubbed the remainder out in the ashtray.

 

     “You know I am a baby. Don’t I always take care of you? I’ll see you on Sunday. We’ll make up for lost time. I promise you. I’ll be extra sweet to you.”

She leaned back on her sofa and looked across the room. Beneath a brass light hung a large aerial photo of A-Basin. Along the face of the mountain a pair of red dotted lines extended across it. They signified a proposed high speed Vista Bahn. The lower left hand corner had a large red circle drawn in a portion of the parking lot.

 

     “No one suspects a thing. I have the pictures just like you asked. Yes, you’re absolutely correct, it would be a perfect place for a Helipad. The only thing is we are going to have to move fast. If we don’t they are going to ruin everything. They? The klutzy Olympian and his ski bum sidekick.  They have been counseling Joe on ways to block the takeover and are always off skiing instead of taking care of the mountain. The place will be in shambles by the time we get our hands on it.”

She stood up and walked across the room and reached down on a portable glass bar.  Raising her wine glass. She twirled it gently around and pressed her lips to the

receiver.

 

     “Here’s to the start of a profitable partnership Senator,” she whispered.

 

                                                         * * *                                                                                                                   

    

      Senator John Blackwell walked to the door of the Keystone Condominium penthouse and opened the French doors that looked out onto the slopes. Taking a long drink of brandy, tasting the warmth, he swallowed and felt the smoothness make its way down to his sizable belly. This would be the year. He had introduced legislation that would allow drilling and mining on National Forest Lands under the guise of National Security Interests. The White River National Forest above Arapahoe Basin Ski Area had large deposits of Molybdenum and the lease would soon be his. He would have it all, he would own or control all the lands and businesses from the I-70 corridor at Eisenhower Tunnel most of the town of Dillon, the Reservoir, all the way to Frisco and the Valley from the water to the Continental Divide including the Ski Areas of Keystone and Arapahoe Basin The material contracts alone for the nuclear submarines were worth more than most countries defense budgets and would make him the new breed of multi billionaire businessmen. He had plans to join the space race once he had finished extracting the metals from the mountains. There was nothing that was going to stop him, certainly not some old mountain man and a group of societal misfits bent on singing Kumbaya, My Lord and playing patty cake in powder snow. He was anointed to be a mover and a shaker, born to wealth, and privilege. There were those that were destined to rule and those destined to serve, John Blackwell served no one but John Blackwell.

 

     Jilly quietly let herself into the penthouse and walked across the room to where the Senator was standing, staring out the window at the slopes of Keystone. She quickly slid her hands around his waist and surprised him as she hugged him tightly.

 

     “I didn’t think the morning would ever end. The lawyers were going on and on about the difficulty of mineral rights on National Lands and the sale of precious metals even if it was to the government. How it might be construed as a conflict of interest. Honestly, it was so boring. All I could think about was spending the afternoon here with you.”

 

     “So, it was agreed on, if I posses the lease to the ski area I also have the rights to the

minerals underneath the mountain.”

 

     “Yes, they are all yours. I have locked that in, all that is left is the meeting at your office in Denver for the signing over of the contracts. I spoke with the Insurance Underwriter and it is all taking care of. They will loose there Insurance next week. There is no way out for them. The Mountain is yours, Baby.”

 

     “When this is completed and my divorce is final I am going to take you to Paris. I love Paris in the Spring!”

     “I can’t wait for you to be rid of her, the old witch. She has been so unreasonable. If she wasn’t such an old washed up hack, I might feel sorry for her. Her and those unwanted waifs she calls children. We can have it all. You have the money and power and I will get you the missing piece, the Mountain. I told you the first night we spent together that I would deliver the Old Man and the Mountain to you. They are about to be ours, I promise you, we will spend our days on the Riviera and Entertaining the Elites.”

 

     “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I have learned from my time in the Senate that it isn’t “Over Until It’s Over. You have done well, you are destined to be a mover and a shaker.” 

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.

 

 

     

 

 

 

 

114-Uncle Albert's Mountain,( The Lure Of The Mountain King,)Tiger's Moose Jaw, Chapter III

 

Do not continue to live in the same old way. Make up your mind to do something to improve your life, and then do it. Change your consciousness; that is all that is necessary.

-------Paramahansa Yogananda,”Self –Realization Magazine

 

 

 

                                                 III

 

 

 

                                Tiger’s Moose Jaw Saloon

 

 

 

 

Tom walked slowly passed the classic buildings that lined the main street of his winter home. The Old town had long since disappeared after the Denver Water Board purchased the rights and flooded the town to form the Dillon Reservoir, to the opposition and dismay of it’s citizens. The new Town was fashioned after “Old Dillion” back in the gold rush days. Its heritage still remained.

     He cheerfully kicked at the snowflakes falling from the skies. They floated gracefully to the ground like large white silver dollars. The vibram soles of his hiking boots squeaked leaving large footprints in the eight inches that had already fallen. He had never known snow to fall this hard or fast. Turning he looked at the virgin tracks he had left down the walk. They reminded him of a painting his Grandfather had hung on the living room wall. It was simply titled ‘A walk in the park’. It triggered a fond memory of home.

Tom spun back around and continued his exploration of the old mining town. The sound of music grew louder as he noticed a large weathered wooden sign protruding over the sidewalk.

     “Tiger’s Moose Jaw Saloon," he spoke to no one in particular. “This has got to be the place.”

He approached the saloon door grabbed the brass handle fastened to the wide planks and yanked it open. Standing in the entrance for a few moments to allow the music to register. “You poison my clear water. You chop down my green trees. I live like an outlaw, in the land where I was born. I’m always on the run, Hey, Hey, What you gonna do about me?” Tom recognized the tune by Quick Silver Messenger Service. A rustic interior with a black upright in the corner opened up to a dark wooden bar with a wall of glass and bottles. A poker game was underway around a large table under a handmade wagon wheel chandelier. Tom expected to see a gun drawn over the inevitable fifth ace up the sleeve of one of the players.

     “Only in the movies,” he laughed as he made his way across the room.

     The regulars had been slowly showing up since around five when Sara punched in.  Tucking her western denim shirt into her tight hugging jeans she flipped her shoulder length hair free from the collar. Well aware of her status as the ‘Queen of the Silver Dollar’ she smiled coyly at the men lining the bar. She noticed some unfamiliar faces in the crowd and expected that. This was the time of the year for the world to converge on Summit County, Colorado, Keystone and Arapahoe Basin ski area respectively.

     She noticed one fresh handsome face in particular. Although a bit rugged and unrefined, his yellow down vest was thread bare and torn. She noticed his patched denim jeans clung nicely as he walked up to the bar.

     “What’ll it be?” Sara asked in her best western drawl.

     “J.D. and coke and hold the coke,” the young man smiled.

    “Whatever’s your pleasure, Old No. 7 it is, you here for the show?”

      “You might say that,” he laughed, “As long as everything goes as well as it has today.”

    “Well, welcome to town. I’m Sara, Sara Lacey”

She was attracted to his confident, strong appearance. Attitude was always the first thing that drew her to a man.

     “Tom Dillion,” he returned”

Her dark sensuous eyes accentuated a mysterious yet soft air. He could tell that she loved her job, the way that she smiled joking with all the customers.

     “A blister a day,” he overheard her say. She was laughing with who he guessed was the mailman sitting down at the end of the bar.

     “What can I get ya?” Sara asked another customer who had just walked in. He had the Olympic Logo pinned on his black ski sweater, and another on his matching cap. He stamped his freshly polished cowboy boots on the floor to shake off the snow. They had collected a considerable amount from the storm raging outside.

     “Grapefruit Juice if you have it,”

     “It’s your funeral,” Sara grabbed for a glass. “I’ll have to keep my eye on you, drinking this stuff.” She grinned at the young man as he removed his hat revealing long dusty blonde hair his six foot five frame towered over her and everyone else at the bar.

     “This one’s on me,” Tom broke in.

     “Thanks. Toby White,” the young man reached out his hand.

     “Nice to meet ya, Tom Dillon. You here for the show?”

He gave Sara a wink as she twisted the ends of her long red hair. He felt the warmth of her smile and found himself smiling back.

     Toby looked at them both and laughed.

     “For a couple of months anyway. Coach says that I got the technique, but not the style. So he sent me to the Basin to loosen up. I’m shooting for the Olympics.”

     “Impressive,” Tom nodded and raised his glass. “I’ve never had the ambition, but it would be glorious.”

     “We’ll see if I get there,”

     “When you get there,” Sara replied

     “She’s right ya know, Ya can’t expect to go all the way without a winning attitude.”

     “I know, that’s another thing coach wants me to work on. Loosen your heart and strengthen your mind, he always says.”

     “He’s a wise man,” Tom sipped his drink.

     “I was never big on skiing. My late hours here don’t leave much time for daily activities. A few times a year at best,” Sara looked down the bar for anyone who might need a refill.

     “If you ever get the urge. We could take a few easy runs.”

Tyler couldn’t believe he was asking her on a date.

     “That sounds like fun,” Sara smiled. “Excuse me duty calls.”

     “So where are you staying?” Toby asked.

     “That’s my last obstacle. I’ve got a job at the Basin in exchange for a season’s pass and a little spending money. There is no place to stay.”

     “I guess we’re both in the same boat. Maybe Sara can steer us in the right direction.”

     “It’s worth a try,” Tom looked up and waved to Sara.

     Sara walked over wiping her hands on a bar rag that was hanging out of the back of her denim jeans.

     “I’ll see what I can do,” she said. “I figured you guys would need a place to stay. My friend owns a boarding house in town. Maybe she’s got a room. Don’t wander too far for now.”

     “Be right here,” Tom watched her move as she walked away. Her thin waist and rounded hips were looking finer all the time.

     “She sure is a sweetheart,” Toby poked Tom with his elbow. “You got yourself a fine filly there.”

     “Naw,” Tom shook his head. “She’s just being friendly. There’s nothing there.”

     “Want to bet pal,” Toby leaned closer. “My mother always said, it’s all in what they don’t say.”

     “Tom glanced up and caught Sara looking back at him. She quickly turned away.

     “Maybe you’re right.”

     “I know I’m right.”

     “I hope you’re right.”

     “I’m sure, I’m right. By the end of the winter you two will be an item.”

     “I certainly hope your right,” Tom added. “She’s the prettiest mountain girl I’ve ever seen.”

     “Listen, I have sisters. I know I’m right.”

     “We’ll just have to wait and see,” Tom replied.

     “O.K. have it your way, she’s not interested,” Toby laughed.

They both burst out laughing.

     “Tom, Toby, meet Jilly.”

They turned around and came face to face with every young man’s dream. Jilly was dusty blonde like Toby athletic build and a knock down smile. Tom thought she had a little too much make-up. Toby on the other hand was entranced by it.

     “Nice to meet you,” Toby jumped up offering his chair. He stumbled in the process. A bit gawky on flat land, he skied like a demon.

“I’m Tom, He’s Toby,” Tom motioned.

“Hi,” she was looking at Sara. “I’ll have a martini, very, very dry,” she didn’t notice the two boys. They eyed each other behind her back.

     “Thanks Sara,” Jilly replied reaching for her wallet.

     “I’ve got it, I’ve got it,” Toby slapped a twenty on the bar.

     “Thanks,” she reached over and sipped her drink and set the glass on the bar.

     “A little less Vermouth next time Sara.” She ignored Toby’s gesture and didn’t acknowledge his attempt to be friendly.

     “Sara tells me you boys need a place to stay,” she said curtly.

     “Desperately,” Toby answered, mesmerized by her charm.

     “Do you think I can trust these boys Sara?”

     “They look pretty shady to me,” Sara smiled at Tom.

     “I’ve got a room with two single beds and two dressers. You can stay this evening and if you’re still interested we’ll talk in the morning.” The business woman was showing through.

     “Sounds great to me,” Toby said.

     “Fine,” Tom added.

     “Well I have to be going,” Jilly downed her drink and hopped off the stool.

     “So soon? Where ya headin?” Toby questioned curiously.

     “Got a date,” she answered with a sly wink to Sara.

Toby fell silent his face went blank and void of expression. He recovered, smiled sheepishly, held his hand to his heart and acted wounded.

Sara knew better than to ask who the date was with, she already suspected. She wouldn’t have given his name or where they were gong to meet. Friends should be interested but not prying. She would let it be, for now. She wondered if Jilly had any other friends in town. If she did, she never came around with any of them. Maybe the Moose Jaw wasn’t classy enough for her kind.

     “Stop it Sara Lacey,” she chastised herself.

     “See you later Jilly.”

     “Bye Sara,” she tossed a dollar on the bar. “Up the stairs, second door on the left. Sara will tell you how to get there. We’ll talk business in the morning.”

     “Thanks,” the boys said in unison. She turned and walked out the door before they could finish their sentence.

     “Just my luck,” Toby sucked on a cube from his empty glass..

Sara grabbed the glass filled it to the top and shook her head at the boys,

     “Don’t waste your time. There’s something distant about that girl. She’s got it all but still seems to want more.”

     “She’s probably lonely,” Tom said. “Beauty isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

Sara shrugged her shoulders and was off to wait on another customer.

     “Well Toby,” Tom extended his hand. “Not bad for the first day.”

     “Not bad at all, Tom.”

It was to be the start of a long close, adventurous if not contentious friendship. Those were the best, the ones that could weather the storm. The storm was on their horizon.