109- The Moose Jaw- The Ending to White Dreams ( Young Adult Version Of The Lure Of The Mountain King, Uncle Albert's Mountain}

There have been many endings over the years. Leaving the mountain alone has always been my favorite, but as the the years have progressed I have experimented with Tom and Sara being together in some form. Since I had always wanted this to be a young adult work my first go at togetherness was for simplicity. I published it in May of 2022 but then deleted it. I once again offer it up in it's simplicity. Which one is better is for you the reader to decide.

                                                     The Moose Jaw

 

 

       Sara was sitting at the end of the bar. She was unconsciously twisting the end of her auburn hair, between her thumb and forefinger. Her head buried in a novel, reading short stories and good writing was her favorite pastime. There were only a handful of customers this afternoon. The season had ended and business would be slow until autumn winds brought another winter to the Rocky Mountains. A new song drifted over the sound system. The front door slowly opened and a black Stetson appeared. Sara felt her body involuntarily shiver. She quickly buried her head back into her book,

     “When are you going to wake up?” Sara said to herself. “You can’t hide from the world forever.”

She stared blankly at the pages. Lifting her hands she turned them upright, they were covered with black smudge marks from the print. She realized that was exactly what she was doing. Hiding from Tom and hiding from herself. Year after year she sat with her books. She listened to others talk of their adventures. Standing at the bar mixing their drinks and collecting their spare change. Spare change to make her ends meet. Always buried in another book, she thought she would probably grow old and grey with a book in her hands.

     “Hi,” he said cautiously. He was hoping it would go well. She had this incredible knack for avoiding him.

     “Hi,” she smiled radiantly. Sara’s eyes softened as they met his. She jumped off her chair and ran to him. She grasped his hand and held tightly to his big fingers.

     ”I’m sorry this all happened. I was wrong to try and force you into something you weren’t ready for. If nothing else you taught me the value of freedom and the courage to spend it"

Tom looked deeply into her eyes.

     “No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I can’t settle in one place. My first reaction to life is to bolt when things get tough, to run away instead of fighting. I want to be with you, without you I’ll probably always be a drifter. You are the only stability I’ve ever known.”

He saw the same spark that was there the first time they had met. It had never left, even when he thought it would never return.

     “Listen, I can’t explain my feelings, when I’m near you. I’m trying to find the words to explain how much I care. It’s just that I’ve got this crazy dream. Maybe I can make a difference. Maybe I can -----.”

She gently put her fingers to his lips.

     “I’ll make you a deal. No more talk of commitment. You give me a taste of real freedom.”

He loosened the straps of his knapsack and slid his arm around her waist. He slapped his hand on the bar.

     “There’s this little saloon in Targhee called ‘Wild Bills’,” he scratched the stubble on his chin. “You could work on the mountain with me and learn to ski or tend bar there.”

     “Only if you shave,” she laughed wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

Tom gently pulled her closer. He felt the warmth of her body next to his. He knew it was right. He would give her everything possible for him to give. Sara was the serenity he found among the jagged peaks. It was meant to last forever. The balance between man and nature in the mountains is fragile and extremely delicate. Life hangs precariously by a taught golden string, stretched sometimes almost to the breaking point. A balance that was as tender and tight as that between a man and a woman. Tom always pushed toward the edge. Someday he would push too far. He would regret many things in his life. He would never regret giving his love to Sara.

     “No promises.”

     “No promise,” he agreed.

She tore off her apron, and threw it behind the bar. She grabbed her blue knapsack and stuffed her book into it. Pulling on her ski jacket, she flipped her hair outside. It would be an exciting change for her. They started for the entrance.

     “Hey Sara, How about another?” one of the customers yelled.

She turned gracefully, her hair flowing in a wide arc. It gently came to rest, tight under her chin. Tom waited his throat dry. He watched every move she made.

Sara glanced back at him. She carefully studied his features cautiously for a sign, any answer. Tom said nothing.

Sara turned and reached for Tom’s hand. They walked out the door.

     “What’s Targhee like?” she said.

     “I’ll show you,” he replied.

The Ring Song, Jaya Sia Ram, Krishjna Das, Flow Of Grace

171-Characterization of the Senator

 The Senator: John Blackwell

Age: 52

Physical Attributes: Soft, out of shape, puffy, drinks too much, overbearing, demeaning and abrasive.

Inherited wealth and expects the world to bend to his needs and wants.

The Senator has to be lovable in a sick way. If you cannot Love the Senator than it will be impossible to Hate him. He wants to control the entire Dillon Valley up to the Continental Divide. Although it is National Forest Property he wants to be able to strip mine Loveland Pass and the Arapahoe Basin for Molybdenum. He wants to be able to sell his mined minerals to foreign actors and will use his connections to change the status of the National Forest to mineable land. Needs to be characterized as dastardly.

Maha Mantra, Krishna Das, (Hare Krishna)

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

146- All Things Will Be Provided For Your Success

 I soar in the plane of consciousness above, beneath, on the left, on the right, within and without, everywhere, to find that in every nook of my space-home I have always been in the sacred presence of my father, Paramahansa Yogananda, "Metaphysical Meditations"

You do not walk alone in this world. Your father is ever with you and watching over you. You are free to make your own decisions and control your own destiny. Grounded in the faith that your path is clear and open and your success is guaranteed by the love of your maker. You cannot fail all that you need will be provided for you on your journey. Do not falter in the knowledge that you are a child of your father. Trust and you shall be delivered.

Psalm 23:4-6

King James Version

⁴ Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

⁵ Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

⁶ Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

Sri Krishna Govinda/Gopala, Krishna Das, Live on Earth (For a Limited Time)

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

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