Music In The Cafe's At Night And Revolution In The Air

 

 No that is not my line. Yes I did steal it from a Bob Dylan song. I hung on to and clung to the lines of all Dylan's song's as a young man. I was not alone. It was the sign of the times. Oddly I was reminded of Saratoga, New York this week with the running of American Pharoah at the Travers Stakes. I thought of the many days spent at the race track and Hattie's Chicken Shack and Caffe Lena. Of course, I remember Bob Dylan in Saratoga and Caffe Lena, I was taken by the scenes, the times, and the cultural revolution. All this because of a horse race this week. It was more than just a horse race. The culmination of American Pharoah sweeping the triple crown. He was so impressive in his races.

   Here is where life's experiences creep into your world. I once was impressed by and attended horse racing on a regular basis as well as gambled at OTB parlors in New York, that was until I became an Equine Massage Therapist and co-owner of a rescue ranch. I learned so much about horse anatomy and the musculature of the Equine Athlete. I came to realize what a brutal sport horse racing was and how insane it is to ask three year olds to do what they ask of them in the triple crown races. I was saddened to the core to see the Legend of American Pharoah jaded by the greed of his owner to win a race at Saratoga and increase the stud fee of the horse. The horse looked worn out to me. His eyes were hollow and his confirmation was tight. I thought that he looked somewhat tight and had a hard time making the tight turns in the paddock. His race showed that he did not have the gas to go the distance and in the end his legacy is jaded by the desires of a misguided owner. It was disheartening to say the least. Please let him retire in peace.

   It brings me to the Music and the Revolution. I loved the music and believed in the revolution. I think I still do. Only the revolution is within me now, it is not the violent over throw the government and the establishment revolution of my youth.  (Hell I think I probably am the Establishment) Yes, do I hope that something that I write helps cause a revolution. Except now I hope it is a revolution of mind, body and spirit for the individual as it has been for me. These days I find joy in my home, my meditations and my daily life. I hope you are finding yours.

"Tangled Up In Blue" Bob Dylan

My Baby Blue (Piper)

 

 

The Golden Years

   Life moves forward rapidly it seems. I often joke by saying it seems only a few short years ago I was twenty five. I blinked my eyes and now I am entering my mid-sixties. All of the mountains and ski areas I have visited are all a distant memory as well as our equine rescue ranch and all of the multitude of animals we loved and took care of. The loss of our youngest ranch girl our golden Gracie was perhaps the hardest of all the animals I had the honor to escort to the next realm. She was the end of an era for us. You know in life when your world shifts. This was monumental for Kathy and myself. I cannot speak for her, but for me, my whole life's focus changed. The dawn of a new life stretched out before me. I have always had an excuse why I could not pursue my dream of finishing my Historical Novel about Arapahoe Basin in Colorado. My job, my business, our rescue ranch, making a living, blah, blah, blah.

  Our little Golden Friend was all about Love. The pursuit of love, the people, the places, the things that are love. Just after she passed, we spent a weekend in Ouray, Colorado. We had to change our reservations at the last moment because we adopted a toy poodle we named Piper. So we ended up down town for the weekend in a Hostel style hotel above a restaurant. I was blown away by the views from our third story window. I almost named this piece A Room With A View. Someone else has already taken the subject and written eloquently about it. Any way, the San Juan Mountains are beautiful and rich with the history of the Uncompaghre Ute Indians. The town of Ouray bears the name of the great Chief Ouray who had an influential wife named Chipeta. I was fortunate enough to find a wonderful book titled, People of the Shining Mountains

People of the shining

, A history of the Ute Indians.

   So now it ushers in the new era of the study of the Ute Indians and their migration and near extinction in the West. I look forward to the journey. I have an angel in heaven who whispers in my ear, "you've got to follow your heart Albert."

 My heart has always been in the mountains and the San Juans are amazing.Mt. Sneffels is a jewel in the crown of Colorado mountains. I look forward to my research and the joy of spending time there with Kathy and my new best friend Piper. I am truly the Luckiest Man in America.

   A Song about Life's Loves
"Brandi," Looking Glass

 

Ski A-Basin

 

  It is never to late to fulfill wishes on your bucket list. If you have ever skied and you would like to ski a unique ski area check out the Basin.
   Some faces you never forget after caressing. This is one of those faces!
 Tina Turner: We Don't Need Another Hero

Looking At An Old Lover In A New Light

It isn't often that your breath is taken away by an old lover seen in a new light. This just blew me away. Hope  you love it as much as I do.
Milky Way Over A-Basin: Ken Cross
Song for The Basin: Bob Welch: Sentimental Lady

True Blue

   My wife Kathy is True Blue in life and love, her best girl friend Gracie Marie was also. We were blessed for twelve years with her spirit, love, humor and joy. Gracie was the baby of our Equine Rescue Ranch and survived all our other friends. It was hard for us to let each and every beautiful spirit go to God. It was our responsibility to see that they all were cradled with love in the end. The end of and era has come for us and our lives will move forward. We will have a little more joy and love in our hearts for having known such a warm loving kindred spirit as her. She brought us to our new home and made sure we were settled. Happy Trails my little Ranch Girl.

   R.I.P. Gracie Marie.
Mr. and Mrs.

A Parting Song and Poem
Dream Weaver: Gary Wright
The Rainbow Bridge

Hippies Moving to the Hills

   You see only the gross material products coming from God's factory behind creation; but if you went into the factory itself, you would behold in what marvelous manner everything in this world has been brought into manifestation.
 Paramahansa Yogananda

   Letting go and letting God has never been my strong suit. It has always been my path to assert my will into the equation. I am learning to remove the I from the equation. Life does have its way of working things out if you will just allow the universe work it's magic. Removing myself from the center of the universe is the hardest thing I have ever done. What it has given me is endless joy and freedom from my own trappings of life.

   Many years ago, I sat in a cabin in the Heldeberg Mountains of New York State and dreamed of skiing in Colorado in the winter. A lifetime of winter skiing is behind me now. All grist for my writing mill, it serves to propel me forward toward becoming the writer I wish to be. I remember listening to the music of the times. It spoke of freedoms never before thought of or imagined. It was the sign of the times. We had just come out of the turbulent sixties. I pulled a high number in the first draft lottery and would not have to go to Canada to avoid being drafted into the Vietnam War. I was free. Free to pursue the life and dreams I imagined. Looking back on it now, it was the beginning of a new era. Driven by the words and ideas put forward in popular songs, Hippies sought freedoms never before imagined. Hippies were moving to the hills. Not only were they making love and not war, they were experiencing life in a way that was unimaginable to society. A society that was expanding in every way. It seemed that the fabric of society was being stretched and pushed to it's breaking point. Peoples minds were being expanded and opened. What was taboo was in. The social fiber and morals of the day gone. A new dawn, a new day.
   I hope to explore the post sixties and early seventies to help find the motivation of the characters and principles that brought everyone to Arapahoe Basin in Colorado leading up to it's sale in the late 1970's. I look forward to a journey of the times, the people, and the places. It will be an exciting journey. I hope you will stay with me for it.

A Song of the Times
Canned Heat: Going Up The Country




 

Galena Street Aspen

 The Temperatures have soared into the 100's. Monday working on installing an Evaporative Cooler on a roof, I believe it was the hottest day I have ever worked in. I love the heat. I have always enjoyed starting a wilderness trek early in the morning and climbing and hiking all day long. The dog days of summer in Colorado last sometimes for almost 16 hours. It makes for having wonderful outdoor experiences. It is a juxtaposition of the winter. The sun is at a different angle and you often experience the flat light of winter and a dull dreary day. I love them both. I suppose it is indicative of my love for Colorado. It truly is a beautiful state.

   Why a picture of Aspen in the winter, during hot warm Colorado sun shiny days. I think because it was so bright on Monday working on a roof. That I was reminded of flat light. If you have ever experienced flat light on white snow you would know what I am talking about. You loose depth perception and large dips and even small cliffs blend into the snow and it is a danger that you would never expect to encounter in the mountains. Then add to the fact that when you are skiing you are generally traveling at a fair clip on skis and that it would be easy to ski off of a trail that is extremely steep into something steeper. I guess it is just a play on light that is unique in the mountains. The light on Monday was bright, hot and relentless. Hot long and incredibly beautiful all the colors of the foothills just popped out at you and you could see forever. I do miss the the Evergreens and the Mountains compared to the flatness of the foothills. It was the first day that I believe that I thought of the cold winter days of Aspen since leaving. Kind of like missing and old friend or confidant, something triggers a feeling or a thought and they are etched into your memory and for that brief moment they float through your mind. Perhaps it was that I was just delirious and suffering from sunstroke or maybe the light was playing tricks on my mind. I believe for the moment I was standing on Galena Street staring up at Ajax (Aspen Mountain) in a cool Winter Breeze. Stay cool out there and hydrate in the heat.

My Other Love
The Moody Blues: The Tide Rushes In