The Last Train To The Coast

Now you know that I have set a side my worn out Strohlz jet foamed ski boots. They were a Christmas gift from my High School sweet heart. It has been forty years since I decided to take a year off from the pursuit of an Engineering Degree to spend a winter skiing in America. During those years I have watched the sunset and the snows come to almost every major mountain range in North America and worked at every possible job that would advance that goal. I have lived in converted railroad box cars that were made into sleeping bunks on the desolate plains of Wyoming, to multi-million dollar log homes on Missouri Flats in Aspen Colorado for the sake of the next steeper run filled with that precious white gold, powder snow.

This year as the snows and Winter Olympics come to Sochi, Russia, a place where I would have never ever dreamed of skiing nor imagined ever being able to visit, I am beginning what I hope will be the culmination of my life long dream of pursuing mountain tops. The dream is to write about them. I have recently completed a course on self-publishing e-books. After many false starts of writing and compiling a collection of short stories that are worthy of publishing, the day has arrived. The stories have been edited and assembled in a collection titled “The Lure Of The Mountain King And Other Stories.” It is my goal and dream to move forward and be able to finally tackle the greatest challenge of my life. I hope to move from being a writer as a hobby to being a writer making a living at it. Just like the obsession of pursuing the Mountain King, I am possessed by the desire to write about my time on the Mountain King, Arapahoe Basin. There have been many false starts and outright failures on my part to move toward this accomplishment. I can only equate those to the times that I spent skiing first green circle trails (easiest), then blue box trails (more difficult), then black diamond trails (most difficult), to finally climbing out of bounds all day to ski trails where there aren’t even any names or boundaries.

In their infinite wisdom grandmothers all seem to understate the obvious not only did my grandmother tell me "(Albert), word’s ... they are the key." She always said you have to crawl before you can walk. How very fitting for someone who grew up being a part of the instant gratification society, having recently lived through a “Great Recession” that turned the equity in my home, (that I was planning on using the proceeds for moving to the ocean in Oregon and walking on the beach while writing my short stories and novels), to being a commander of a submarine, (my beautiful Stonewood Grande), in Parachute, Colorado.

The greatest lesson that I have ever learned has been at the knees of my grandparents who lived through the real great depression. The lesson is to dream and if you are going to dream, why not make them big dreams. When song writers dream and write about salvation, they always seem to write about their salvation as a train. You know the great gospel songs about trains. One in particular titled “People get Ready.”  The lyrics are “People get ready there's a train a - coming, you don’t need no ticket, you just get on board. All you need is faith to hear the diesel’s humming. Don’t need no ticket, you just thank the lord.” Hell, even Dylan titled an album “Slow Train Coming.”  I guess that is why I titled this piece, The Last Train To The Coast. It is my last big dream to be at the ocean and writing about my life in and on the mountains.

I have started what I hope will be the very last vehicle and business to get me there. Capitol Plumbing and Heating, named after the second highest peak in Colorado. Here is to big mountains, big dreams, and walking hand in hand with my beautiful wife on a big beach next to the big ocean.

Merry Christmas Everybody!

The Razor's Thin Edge

There is a razor’s thin edge of existence in life. I have seen it in the mountains. A place where you know if you jump into a couloir to ski it your first few turns are the most critical. If you miss any of them and lose your balance you will most definitely fall to your death. It seems that the younger you are in life, the farther beyond that edge you step.  There is nothing like the exhilaration, the adrenalin rush, the sheer thrill of pushing the envelope just beyond that edge.

When I was twenty five and skiing at Arapahoe Basin in Colorado the edge blurred into reality for me. Arapahoe Basin was then the highest lift serviced mountain in America at 12,500 feet in elevation. The main lift brought you to the top of the mountain, and you could traverse into Lenawee Mountain and climb higher to get great powder shots. You could also drop over the backside into Montezuma Bowl and ski incredible vertical terrain and deep out of bounds powder, but you would have to hike out. Looking across Route 6 at the awesome Professor with its seven cornices would orient you toward the Pallavicini, on your left and the infamous Wall, the Wall was at the same elevation as the summit except that  there was an incredible vertical drop down from the summit with a steep incline back up to the cornice. The prevailing winds would race across the giant top of the wall and create a massive wind blown hanging cornice. It was always unstable and could fracture and avalanche at any time. Often it grew to enormous proportions and would be a twenty to thirty foot drop to the steep vertical slope below. On cold winter days it was always more stable and provided and excellent platform for launching into thin air before landing on the steep lower terrain. The lower terrain vertical was such that if you were not acutely aware of bringing your arms forward and keeping your elbows tucked in you might drag your arms on the slope behind you throwing off your balance.

One particular winter day I took the leap of faith and hit the deep powder successfully. I was just starting my second critical turn when another skier, who had not seen me jump from the cornice traversed across in front of me. I narrowly missed a collision but the tips of my skis caught the tails of his. My skis stopped abruptly. I was launched into a tip roll, a somersault on skis. Skiing with my bindings cranked down tight did nothing for easy release. The motto of the day was “Deliver us from premature release.” Every time I came back up on my skis I would again roll over and bury my head and neck in the snow. I was sure that this time my neck would break and I would die, or worse be paralyzed for life. This went on for what I thought was an eternity. It was then that my right shoulder caught a boulder. My shoulder dislocated and my ligaments and tendons were torn. It however had arrested my forward tumbling. I was unable to move my neck and it took months for both my shoulder and neck to heal. I said in the brashness of my youth, someday I will get a plastic socket. Through the pain in my later years, the prospect of a major operation does not intrigue me.

It brings me back to the fine line of existence in life and the mountains. I had realized my mortality. I was no longer an immortal God as I had thought in my youth. I had experienced near death. I never again skied with such reckless abandon. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I pushed the limit, even in my later years. I however possessed fear, a good healthy dose of it. It is detrimental when you love and play in the mountains to be afraid. Fear is healthy but you lose some of your edge. If you hesitate before turning on a steep slope or performing a feat while climbing or mountaineering it can be disastrous. I lost some of the thrill, to some degree, I had been conquered by nature instead of conquering it. I am saddened today by it, but it is as the world is.

I feel today like I am again standing on that wind blown cornice. I am more than twice that age now. The sky is azure blue, the wind gently rushes through my thinning hair, the snow is deep and the sun is shinning brightly. It is up to me to take the leap. What in the world am I talking about?

I have always wanted to pursue my writing career, but I always chose the safer accepted route of a business career in the private sector. The thought of contacting agents and editors and publishers has come and gone often. I even tried self publishing with out any great success. Always like a giant Goliath, the fear was in front of me, taunting me, calling out my name. It is time to slay the giant.

Today, I welcome you to Sun Moon Books. Look us up at www.sunmoonbooks.com. Our new blog. We will soon be publishing ebooks. My collection of ski short stories “White Dreams” will be available in mid to late February. I have another collection of horse short stories and two novels in the works for the next several years. Standing here on the cornice wondering if I should jump into that couloir full of snow snakes and conquer nature or be conquered by it, I am reminded of a quote that is attributed to the ages but no one sage in particular. “Leap and the net will appear.”          

Update On Bill And Lou

Update On Bill And Lou - Rescue (Previous Post)

Just got a returned email from the folks at Green Mountain College regarding the rescue of Bill and Lou. The contact email addresses have been closed. Here is an update of current contact information;

Green Mountain College
Agriculture - Farming (Bill and Lou)
2500 Killington Road Killington, VT 05751
(800) 776-6675

Save Bill And Lou A Working Team Of Oxen At Green Mountain College

ACTION ALERT: ACT NOW TO SAVE BILL AND LOU!

Green Mountain College is poised to kill two oxen named Bill and Lou who have served their college farm for ten long years. ACT NOW to prevent it!

Bill and Lou have been a working team of oxen at Green Mountain College in Poultney, VT for ten years. They were pressed into service by staff at Cerridwen Farm - the teaching farm on campus - to do everything from plowing fields togenerating electricity. Over the years, they became so well loved that they're even the profile picture for the farm's Facebook page!

A few months ago, Lou became unable to be worked any longer. Bill won't work with anyone else. Therefore, the college has concluded that both of them must be killed.

DEATH is their reward for 10 long years of hard work.

 Yes, Green Mountain College has decided that Bill and Lou's long lives of service should be rewarded by their slaughter - and for what? According to their own press releases, the school will get, at best, a couple of months of low-grade hamburger out of their bodies.

This is especially heartbreaking because they have an excellent home waiting for them.

VINE Sanctuary has offered to provide Bill and Lou with permanent homes. We have the ability and resources to care for them for the rest of their natural lives. Sadly, though, the college is determined to kill them instead.

For ten years, they served the needs of those more powerful than they are.

Now it's time to let them serve their own needs.

ACTION YOU CAN TAKE - Please contact the folks at Green Mountain College and urge them to reconsider. Feel free to use and/or modify the letter below, or write your own.

 All you need to do is send a heartfelt, courteous email to the following people:

 Bill Throop Provost and Vice President for Academic Affairs:throopw@greenmtn.edu

Kenneth Mulder Farm Manager, Research Associate & Adjunct Assistant Professor of Environmental Studies: mulderk@greenmtn.edu

Dear Sir:

I am writing to urge you to allow Bill and Lou to live out the remainder of their natural lives, in peace and contentment, at VINE Sanctuary, a reputable organization which has offered to care for them.

Should you choose to reverse their death sentences, the rewards garnered by Green Mountain College will far exceed whatever paltry sum their slaughter would bring to the school.

 Conversely, whatever small amount of cash would be made by killing them will be far outweighed by the negative press which will follow in the wake of their deaths.

Bill and Lou have served your college well for ten long years. Students and faculty alike have expressed how much they care about these individuals. They deserve to be given the rest of their lives to live as they choose. Just because they are not human does not mean they do not care about their existence.

We will be watching to see what decision you make.

Sincererly,

A Pilgrimage To Swami's

I have always thought my Epitaph would read “Enter Weary Traveler.” One of my favorite lines in a song has been, “You give the appearance of one widely traveled. Miracles appear in the strangest of places sit down let me buy you a beer.” 

 


Looking back at a Writing Conference I attended in Telluride, Colorado, It seems like I was visited by one. 

Entering into a book store across from the performance theatre, I immediately flashed on a serene face on the cover of a book titled, “The Autobiography of a Yogi.” The picture was of Paramahansa Yogananda, the man who would become my eventual Guru.  He is the founder of the Self Realization Fellowship. I was soon to begin my studies of Kriya Yoga, and my journey to becoming a card carrying Yogi.

I don’t think I ever really believed in Miracles. Oh! I had heard of all the Biblical Miracles the great ones, but not any personal ones. I’m not sure that you recognize them when you see them. They are subtle.

A nice story at a glance, but where is the miracle? I returned to my writing loft in Vail, Colorado and continued my studies. The veil of maya was slowly lifted from my life as well as the cloud of alcohol that ruled my life. I continued my writing and ski bumming life. 

After attending a writing conference in Aspen, the opportunity to move to that city and ski Ajax  opened up. I quickly accepted it and moved. At the very same time, the manager of the local health club, the Aspen Athletic Club, was hoping to become involved with a group of people her own age and looking for a new job. Kathy, my boss and I started working together at a new fresh career. It was evident from the beginning that we not only worked well with one another but there was an attraction. I was having my mail delivered to our office as my apartment was in the same building. Yes, Main Street Aspen, Colorado across from the Main Street Bakery. We often shared a revered delivery of matzo ball soup from Benjamin’s Deli or famed turkey burgers and brownies from the Silver City Grille. One particular afternoon while sorting through our mail Kathy came upon one of my lessons from the Self Realization Fellowship from Encinitas, California. She asked Nancy our secretary about it and was told that I routinely received correspondences  from there. Surprised, she confronted me and began to explain that as a young high school surfing hippie girl they used to surf at Sunset Beach. It would later in life become Swami’s Beach. They would sit out on their surf boards until almost dark and look with binoculars into the ashram, hoping to see the swamis flying around on their carpets. We laughed heartily at her youth and she said she would take me to the ashram as it was so beautiful. It was one of those promises made that you knew would probably never be fulfilled. Our working lives brought us closer together and we became romantically involved. 

A few years later, we decided to take a month off and travel the west coast from Mexico to Oregon. Somewhere along our vacation the thought occured to us that that we may never have a month off together again and that we would get married in Lake Tahoe after our pilgrimage to the ashram. Upon arriving at the ashram, we were hoping to receive a blessing concerning our plans for marriage. While walking up to Swami’s meditation bench that looks out on the Pacific Ocean, in what I consider to be the most beautiful setting in America, our miracle occurred for us. In the sand in large letters was the name Paramahansa Yogananda spelled out. I being a devoted chela of Paramahansa and Kathy, a respected admirer of his, we viewed this as a miracle blessing for our ensuing marriage. We continued on to Lake Tahoe and were wed. Over the years the blessings of Swami and the Self Realization Fellowship has brought great joy, enlightenment and wonder into our lives.

I am soon to begin a new chapter in my writing life and begin my search for an agent to assist in the publishing of my work, ‘White Dreams, The Trials of the World’s Greatest Ski Bum,’ simultaneously in America and Europe. Hopefully in time for the Olympics that will be held in Sochi, Russia in 2014. I ask humbly for the blessing of my lord Krishna, my lord Jesus Christ, Mahavatar Babaji, Lahiri Mahashiya, Swami Sri Yukteswar, Gurudeva Paramahansa Yogananda, and all Great Saints of all Religions in my endeavor. I further ask that I may succeed in climbing the sacred mountain of self realization and stand at last on the shining summit, face to face with thee, O inconceivable Spirit Divine.

I will leave with the recitation of what is considered to be the most powerful mantra known to man.                  

                                                  The Gayatri Mantra

Om Bhur Buvaha Swaha Tat Savitur Varenyam Bhargo Devasya Dheemahi Dhyo Yonaha Prachodayath.

Perhaps my new epitaph should be a quote from  Procol Harum in the song Conquistador, from the Album, A Whiter Shade of Pale.

“Conquistador your stallion stands in need of company and like some angel’s haloed brow you reek of purity. I see your armour-plated breast has long since lost its sheen.”

Looking Toward Sochi, Russia 2014

O.K. I admit it. I have had an obsession with the Winter Olympics since they were held in Lake Placid New York in 1980. I tried very hard to organize my artisan and musician friends in climbing the back side of Whiteface Mountain at night with musical instruments and generators. It was my dream to hold a concert at sunrise. You guessed it. It never happened, that failure has not stopped me from dreaming of pulling off publishing my writing in conjunction with an Olympics. I came close in 2010 Vancouver with Of Mountains And Men. Wrong publisher and under marketing made for lackluster recognition. This Olympics I feel primed. I just recently realized that I can publish my blog in different languages, such as Russian, French, German, etc. What a great thing. Now if I can arrange to have my book of poetry already an ebook (www.amazon.com) available in translation, double score. My collection of short stories White Dreams, (The Trials of the World Greatest Ski Bum), available as an ebook and possibly find a publisher to simultaneously publish in Europe and America I will have arrived.  Why the 34 year obsession? I want a contract to write a Historical Novel about Arapahoe Basin Ski Area in Colorado and have the funding to do it right. Well so much for the confessions of a self-absorbed obsessed ski bum writer. Wish me luck! Who knows if I can afford it I may be able to realize my Oregon Retirement Dreams.