Weird.

Remember me saying that the V.A. had sent a request for me to register with my doctor’s office for an appointment? I received that about when I returned home. I have not called in, only complained here. I indicated that I had problems complying, not personal, there might just be something wrong with me or some part of my mind or function. As I said, it is not so much that I will not do it as it is that I cannot seem to get it done. Today, I received notice that I have an appointment set up for me for August 18th. Hmm, I did not know they read this. I will take it.

I went for a long walk last night. I was not really going anywhere, I merely left and went in this or that direction. I walked about a mile, in the direction of the flooding, or where the flooding occurred. I am still not sure exactly where the flood was, though it is becoming easier to spot as all of the businesses which were flooded are out of business and the lights in that whole area are out, save perhaps street lights, though I cannot be sure about those yet as I had not paid attention until certain knowledge became transparent to me. I thought I had stumbled into the flood zone, thus the end of business when all of a sudden I realized lights were on and businesses were open. It is odd because believing I was in the flood zone was suddenly depressing, then seeing the businesses open became such a relief. I cannot explain either feeling, I only know I experienced them. I stopped into the legion hall and asked if this was a closed club. I was assured it was not and so I sat and had 3 draughts of Budweiser. The draughts did not affect my walk home in the least, and I was not tired from my walk to point. I suppose I was curious. I also wanted to sit in a place and have those draughts among those I might find some comfort. My recent daring has reminded me where I belong. If these are not mine, for now, they might do from time to time.

It is about time to shower, shave, and get ready for church. I am looking forward to visiting God in the particular home of his which I have come to be familiar. He does call, always. And I am becoming better and listening and obeying. He is my Father, Brother, and Holy Spirit, both big and little caps. I see him in my brothers, and in some ways, in the ladies I know and have known. Though I have 3 sisters who are ministers, and tried to have a woman priest, I find that these are not right. Woman are different and can and should only follow Mary, not Christ. I see what I see and know what I know now, and worry about the particulars less and less even as they become more sure in their own ways.

I think I will be taking a lot more walks. I have found an underpass area which will allow me to more safely travel to the other side of a major highway here. The other side had bike and walking paths which extend into the rest of the city. Though I may be layered in sweat, I see that I can probably walk for many miles without real effort. But that little effort will do me great good. It will keep me in a general form as I use swimming, weights, climbing, and set-ups to become crunches, and perhaps jumping rope to actually go over that little hump of maintenance and into strength, endurance, and other forms of growth. It is time, this is the place, and I am ready. I only hope my mind and education will follow suit.

I must be off. As Catholics, we fast before accepting the Eucharist. We believe the wine and bread become the flesh of Christ. As such, our bodies must be clean and open to this particular sacrament (or is this one a Sacrament, large S?) and make it so by fasting for one hour in advance. In such a way, Christ may more readily bond with us so that we may more surely walk his way and do his will. Though I remain confused and unsure about many things regarding life and the church, what I am sure about I do and when I am able to do so, I learn more. I think the older ways of the Church were better and as such, I seek some of these out. I am trying to gather information regarding regular fasting, practiced on some particular days and also done as a silent personal form of contrition. I am looking at older dietary considerations, such as meatless Fridays, or particular Fridays. Some have said this last was released as Christ had indicated dietary laws were no longer necessary… but this was never really a law, only a sign of respect for the day upon which our Lord was crucified. I think it was something personal which became institutionalized, which the lazy hippies of our group decided to dispense with as inconvenient. Secularism creeps in everywhere.

Well, time to shower, now, most certainly. I really am off!

More today, then, thankfully, a Saturday.

I was up late last night, too late. My nurse visited yesterday and set up my medicines. I did not start them yesterday, it just did not happen. Today, however, though I arose late as might be expected, I took my “8:00” meds whenever it was that I woke up. I have since taken my afternoon meds and will take my last pill before I go to sleep. My blood pressure and blood sugar were a little high yesterday, though I think, in spite of not taking my meds well on my trip, these things were good. I did actually check my blood pressure a week ago at my mother’s home, well, the last mother I visited that is. It was 136/86 or something close. I did not check my blood sugar, but I can tell it was low. Still, I have been eating fast food, enjoying some treats, and being a slug since I returned to my own home. Yeah, I needed it, yeah, I am going back to healthy soon (as soon as I can dig my sorry butt out of the mess I have here at my home). It is getting better, but.

Today I was able to get a number of tasks completed. I arranged an appointment with an engineering school academic advisor, however, she is not top notch. I really need to get in far enough that I can speak with a real advisor. The one I am meeting is too busy and disinterested to help at all. With the difficulties I have had with school, it may be difficult to find any real help. However, I am pretty sure no one has had any real interest in bringing me in and guiding me from the beginning. Perhaps that is simply how colleges are these days. Professors and advisors are too interested in research, political activism, and hedonism to bother with students or studies. Perhaps I am a bit cynical, perhaps I have reasons to be as such.

Still, today I ensured the last of my transcripts would be sent to the university in time for that meeting. As well, I hand wrote and snail mailed two letters and some money, along with a belonging which mistakenly traveled with me after my first stop. I also wrote three emails, did a bit of work in the cave here, and went out to do a number of those things. I have not yet set up my weights for next week, so that may be off for another week. I am still a bit sore though I am feeling less and less tired. So, while I set my workouts up next week, I will probably begin to hike, figure out the swimming schedule at the local place offering adult swim times, and see about the rest of my life.

I have tried to get an appointment with my new doctor, a man I have not yet met. The V.A. keeps trying to set it so that they send a reminder to call and set up an appointment, leaving me with arranging the thing. I, simply put, will not do that. I expect to have an appointment arranged, and if that time and date does not work, then I will reset. If they cannot do this, I will probably stop going. I simply seem unable to work that way. Exactly, I do not call back. A personal problem perhaps, but one that is known and documented. This too will be cleared up on my next visit, or not.

I have heard nothing back from the emails I sent out over this last week, so I am a bit frustrated. I have been happy to be blogging again and it does feel good to be home. I am still a bit frazzled, uncertain how to get it all together again, but it is coming. However, I have a belief like I have never had that my life is back in a swing. Not the old part-time college and life swing, but an upper level out-of-the-field swing. If I can connect this with the ball I will win big. I will end my disability. I may even go on to graduate school or law school. This is huge. ...*ignore the complaining*...

My libido and me.

Remember when I said my libido was turned on by unregulated swim? Yeah, well, I decided to write about it. I live an honest humble life but that does not mean I lead a sheltered life, lie about my realities, or hide in a prudish realization I attempt to actualize. I suppose what I am saying is that I am and I write about what and how I am, to include material that is adult and based in truth.

After the River, a capital letter seems appropriate as that River was alive and named, and after a few days of recovery, my body came alive like I have never seen. Sure, my sex drive has always been healthy. For a 40 plus year old man, I am more like a 20 something that way. No woman who chooses to take my hand will walk away with unmet needs regarding marital affections. Hmm, my guess is even before this she would be hoping for something to save her from those affections… a phone call (not), a baby crying in the night (not, they need to learn independence), but she might well have hope and I would grant that as possible. But now I have the drive I had as a teen, a strong healthy hardy male teen.

I could not get sex off my mind the rest of the trip, and to this day, my little friend does not remain in his place. Whether it is my mind or my body which refuses my control techniques, I cannot be sure. Why, yes, if you ask, I have spent years practicing control of my manhood and for many and varied reasons. For one thing, an always on sex drive drains my mind and body. It is a massive user of concentration, memory, and decisiveness. I wanted material control of my flesh. As well, I made some mistakes in my youth, and I was set to not repeat them. Wives of unknown men were one thing, but when I destroyed two friendships at once (hers, and because of this her husband’s), I decided to change my ways in my early 20’s. For the most part, if not perfectly though definitely better through time, I became a more civil gentleman. Now, I worry, but so far so good even after the trip (if that last just barely).

Still, on the way back, I decided to buy condoms just in case. I remembered how uncomfortable condoms were from my past, and probably why I rarely used them. So, this time, I looked through the selections carefully. My last gal had said I was small, which had always worried me, but I let that go and started my search my way. In looking, I found they had different sizes! In the first place I looked, feeling like a guilty teen, I saw a large size. I bought three, the smallest group I could find. Later, I tried one. With little effort to rise to the occasion, actually with no effort, I tried the device. Still too tight! Had my girlfriend just been being mean? In any case, through the end of my travels, I began looking for bigger. In the end, the largest I could find was XL, from Trojan. Still too small, I can tell. I am now on a bit of a quest to find what size really fits and if they make them.

Luckily, happily, sort of, I have had no use for these. And, at this time, I have no intention of becoming intimate. *prays to God* I have a hope that I will not be intimate again until I marry, and then it will be only with her, again, God willing. But, I would like to know just how big this thing really is. I am now looking for a size 2XL and 3XL. I am pretty sure one of those will fit. I still have no idea why my last lover said this thing, other than to be mean. Do not worry, she has paid for her meanness. That story would be too much information and had nothing to do with my will or any misdeed on my part, but it does give me some small pleasure. Okay, grudges are bad, but…

Wow, did I really write that? Yep, and it is true. If you read this far, and have any kindness and propriety left to you, pray with me. Pray that I can resist these youthful urges and keep my pen in my pocket until I have the correct medium upon which to pen my future! Oh, and if you might know where such sizes of devices might be acquired, send me an email. This is not for pride, call it a scientific inquisition.

The River.

White-water rafting has always been something in the back of my mind. Call it an interest, call it a yearning, the idea of cold water, paddling, and the thrill of it has been something for which I have a known interest. Until this year, I had no means of participation. The last two or three years I have seen the opportunity yet for financial or other concerns, I just could not make the trip. This year was different, this year it all came together for the first time.

My drive to Colorado Springs was long if uneventful, minus a detour I coasted through and only happily if accidentally ended up completing correctly. My host and hostess, as well as the complex family explained as et. al., were gracious and beneficent. The days I had to rest and relax after the long drive were essential, and offered great strength and a good start to the craft of white-water rafting. Thank you much, if you happen to be reading this.

The first day of rafting started early, though I was awake and ready easily, as were all of our company. A fine breakfast, a few introductions, and a pleasant drive lead us to our outfitters for gearing up, changing, and a bus ride to our let-in point. Our group was too large to fit one boat, so some of us larger men were split off and the rest of our group along with a few people not in our core group were gathered for another raft. We went on two runs of the same area, with lunch and a bus ride back up to our original let-in point, between runs. The runs were fun, and for our two raft, the going was good. Still, one boat capsized and was re-congregated , two were lost from another raft and were re-joined to their crew, and a guide spilled out of yet another craft. In spite of the milder ride, there was much excitement. The water was high, high, fast, dangerous, if fun, even for this lighter venue.

After the day, the 12 of us on the trip (11 or 12?), retired to our mutual host’s and hostess’ abode for dining, cigars, and some drink. Stories were told, fibs might have passed, and much reveling and laughter and thought was passed around. No, not so much a juvenile party as a family gathering, and a joyous one. As time passed, parts of the group parted, and through time the group dwindled to 5 hearty souls for the next days sojourn to heavier waters and more serious concerns therein. As I slept that night, I came to dark foreboding. I did not see death, nor myself, in the premonition, so I said nothing. What was there to say and what would have been done about it? Foolishness, thought I, as I arose and rubbed the sandman’s leavings from my eyes to join the rest for morning's feast.

Though we seemed to have started a bit late, we arrived in time to easily dress and gear out. We stowed what was to be left and boarded the bus for our ride. Today had a more somber note, and I had a bit of that dark feeling remaining, not all of it having gone with the sands of sleep. We spoke as we rode to our place of rafting departure, but in more subdued tones. We all knew pride this day would be folly, even I of the immature nature. When we arrived at the put-in point, our guide went over the rules, survival techniques, and advisories as we had the previous day (though on the previous day I could not hear well due to my lateness in prepping, the crowding, and being around behind the speaker due to the crowding). This day I listened, and intently. Some things stuck with me, held me in their sway, and kept council in my thoughts then on. The water was high and particularly dangerous. This was already a serious run, now more so. If one were to get in the water, getting the feet downriver and head upriver, while lying flat until a better option presented itself or instructions were given was the way to go. If we were to go in the water, keeping our feet off the bottom of the river and out of places where feet might lodge was essential. How to use the paddle as a means of getting or helping another into the boat was discussed. I listened, and closely. Today, I was a bit afraid. There is no reason not to have fear when it is warranted, so long as it does not become overwhelming in itself. I was ready.

Our gear checked, PFDs fitted, and all set, we headed into the water. Instead of a flotilla, today we had only two raft, it was a tighter harder game, and the numbers showed it. The first part of the run was easy. Our guide practiced various paddling instructions, everything from 2 forward, 2 back, 2 left 2 back right, the reverse, left (lean), all left, and as well for right (meaning we either all lean one direction or even all pile into one side of the raft or the other). The breezy part of the ride ended soon enough. A few serious though separated rapids, a couple of 2 to 4 foot waterfalls, and then longer and longer stretches of white-water. I was wearing, but was still doing well enough, we all were.

Porta Vita! You had to be there, some of you were.

The rest comes as my memories exist. I have gathered these from others, myself, and over time, as all of them were not completely and immediately available to me, even a day after the ride. Here it goes.

As we were getting into a serious run after a series of serious but shorter runs, we were called on to paddle 2 forward, then again, 2 forward. The last two rowings made me nervous. I am still unsure if my paddle was merely hitting the river floor or rocks then being twisted by the rush of water, or if merely the rush of water was acting so harshly against my paddle that it was causing me imbalance. However, I knew that there was some kind of problem. The call came for two forward once again, and against my better judgment, I paddled as ordered to the best of my ability. This time, however, the paddle pulled and, trying to keep it, I came unbalanced. My feet were firmly installed in the raft’s stirrups though, and I was sure I would be able to sit up. How hard could that be? But either because of the way the raft was leaning with my weight out, or if the raft was in a spiraling swirl, I will never know which, I could simply not sit up. The physics of the thing was impossible as I was trying. Then a wave of water came over me, and I felt myself leaving the raft!

Fine, I knew it was happening, in time to think about it. I decided when It was completed, I would simply and quickly grab the strap around the raft. Right? No, the raft was gone! It was at least 3 feet out of my grasp and I was underwater in spite of the PDF. Waterboy attempted to send me the t-handle of his paddle, as we had been shown, but I could not see well and both of us seemed to be bobbing in the water at odd angles. Two down, there would be other chances. It was a matter, now, of getting enough air, and doing whatever I could to get up, or out, or onto something, anything. Swish, down the river I went. During this time, I remembered that right before this series of rapids, our guide had said if we fell, we were to try to get to the right as the left was a cliff. I also remember trying to get in the position recommended for safety. At times, when I tried to swirl into that position, my feet hit bottom, and on two or three occasions, my right foot nearly stuck! I have bruises on top of my foot and cuts on my shin which showed how close that was. I knew, as I never could have imagined, how absolutely fatal that would have been. It would have snapped my leg and drowned me like that. I can only assure you, when I felt my foot getting stuck, I kicked hard, fast, furious, and won my freedom and life.

On I went, like in the largest washing machine, lined with boulders, you can imagine. I was smashed against my back, my knee got a couple of really good hits, and though I did not realize it at the time, even my head did get hit hard. Still, I was trying. I finally did make it to that right side. There was slabs of rock, and I got my arms over onto them and sought anything to grab onto, cracks, crevices, deformations, ANYTHING. For 15 to 20 feet, I tried to gain hold. I was sucked down and past and back into the river. Somehow I ended up on the left side of the thing, and trying to right myself into good position, my feet dragged bottom again, and as I yanked my foot free again, I went under. This time, I could feel nothing. I went down and deep. I have heard I was down for 40 or more, they could not see me in the rafts. I surfaced again and again, tried to get to the right. The safety guy, in a kayak with rope handholds on the back of his craft told me to swim to him and grab on. Try as I might, it would not happen. I was so very tired by this time, and the river so potent. He started running into trouble, so he told me to swim back to the raft. I looked back, but could only see the trailing raft. I knew I could not get to that. I got into position and tried to get air and some energy back.

I was afraid. I was alone. But I had not given up. I did need to get energy back, and I was afraid even more so when I realized getting into the boat would be difficult being this tired. Yes, I was afraid. So many lost opportunities, missed chances, and false hopes. Dig, for whatever that even means, dig.

Then I felt it. Someone had grabbed hold of me from behind. He tried to pull me up, but he could not do it. He turned me around, pulled again, and this time I grabbed anything I thought would help and pulled with whatever I had left. The river did not want to let me go, and the struggle was incredible. Finally, spent, I was in the raft, in the back, with my head down in the base of the craft, my body main lying over a couple of the cross-member tubes. I was too exhausted to move, yet we were still in rapids! The water came over the sides and I was once again under water! I was too tired to do anything but look through the water and hope I would not drown right in the raft. After a short, last, series of rapids, we found calm water and pulled to the side, both rafts linking up and over to the shore.

They did an initial check. Then, by nature of medical experience, had me lay still for a good long time. I did fuss, and as I got energy, I forced myself to get my head out of that water pocket, just in case we lost our stop and went through rapids again. They did not understand, and I did not have the energy to explain, so I just did. I explained I have been through enough trauma that I knew what was wrong and that there was nothing seriously injured, just some bumps and bruises, with a few scrapes to add injury to injury. As it turned out, I was correct. After a 15-20 minute stop, some much needed air, and a bit of warming, much to the surprise of most of the party, I went back to a seat where I could help row out the last series of rapids, and then I did so.

One of our crew suggested that the only man he had seen go that far and long and survive had been medivaced, I assume due to broken parts. Another suggested it was something incredible that I lived. Our guide downplayed the thing, though later, when I finally asked if he thought I was coming out alive, he looked at me, looked down, looked back at me and said “No.”, then looked away and never looked my way again.

It seems not many take an unregulated half mile swim in class IV white-waters and come out whole and hale, especially not a 20 year gimp. Perhaps when God got me on the fishing line, he just decided I was not worth keeping, yet. I dunno, but I do know I changed. My libido has been that of a 19 year old (though I have remained chaste, barely). My drive for life, and my push toward success, have also been jacked up. I cannot say it will last. I do not know what it all means. But I am going to take it for all it is worth. I also know I plan to go back, I am good with it.

By the way, I did not lose my glasses or sunglasses. I did lose a shoe though. I bought a t-shirt which states "It's all funny until someone falls out, then it's hilarious". I plan to make a simple shrine with the remaining shoe and the t-shirt to remember a simple miracle and an incredible (hopefully) once in a lifetime ride.

I am home. Part II

After leaving Las Vegas, and then passing through Utah, I ended my drive in one of my old home towns. In particular, the town where I was a foster child for many years. It was a good foster home, excellent to be honest. I had called my foster mother before leaving on the trip, several weeks before leaving, but I had not called since. With my hopes of off-roading unmet and the improbability of meeting with my new lady friend in Utah having proven to be non-functional, this was my next logical place to be. I drove here, then stayed in a hotel overnight, having arrived so late. I placed the call to my mother while parked at the intersection of the highway that had brought me here and the street she lived on.

Happily, she was home and was quite pleased to hear from me. When she finally understood that I was just down the street, she gave me her address and invited me over. She gave me the wrong address, I was sure. But I checked it out anyway. It was were we had lived when I was her foster child. She is 82 or so, and I am sure I brought back memories from that time, so I fully understood. I thought I remembered where she had moved, and I was correct. I knocked on her door and it was a fine reunion. I spent several days here, asking many questions, sharing meals, and just enjoying our time together. She had other affairs to attend, so in the interims allotted by that I drove around town looking at the schools I had once attended, the places I remembered, while also looking for clues as to former classmates and friends.

I found little success, yet mother was busy with her own re-introductions. We went to church and I met some of the older church members, some I remembered by face, though a few names were at least recognizable. As well, she set about an invitation for breakfast with the mother of one of my good friends, and a lunch with my oldest foster brother and his family. The lunch went well, and I was able to speak for some great time with both my foster brother and his son. His son had been only a boy, now grown and a doctor. As I have learned, both of my foster brothers children are now doctors, family care both. I had not known his wife well, they married after his first wife died which was after I had moved away. So, it was pleasant to meet her. A fine meal, really good indeed, was served. The following morning, we ate breakfast with my friend’s mother. She brought over a yearbook from my graduating class and began to fill me in. She has maintained an incredible amount of information regarding my class mates and I was amazed and happy to hear all that she knew. Her son, my friend, lived in a town nearby, but when asked if she should set up a meeting, I at first indicated a no as I believed he lived far out of the way. Later, as I was preparing to leave, I looked over the map. Gladly, I realized I would be driving right through the town where not only he lived, but were my high school sweetheart also lived and worked! On the road, again, but with plans to at least see my old friend.

Arriving in this new town, near where my girlfriend from the past worked, my friend and I talked just a bit. We decided to go get a bite to eat. I did not want to check on my gal pal, as I just thought the mix of work, surprise, and already opening this new line to the past all combined was a bit much. So, we headed to a place, which happened to be closed. There was a secondary place nearby, so we walked to it. While discussing the past, present, and future, all bets against it, in walks my old girlfriend with some guy. They are seated outside of our view. I hurry my meal a bit, and he chides me to go over. I will get there, I assure him, though I think he thinks I was going to chicken out. I broke up with her, in large part because she wanted marriage and I wanted sex, and the two would not be crossed back in the day, so I was a bit nervous. I did, finally, wander over. Her and the man she was eating and speaking with seemed to be in a cold scene, with little pleasantness occurring. Still, I walked up and asked if she recognized me. By the way, she looks good, like she had not aged a day, though with an added cup size or two (woot!). She did not recognize me, perhaps not even my friend except vaguely seeing him as someone she sort of remembered or knew. I introduced myself. Her eyes lit up and, it seemed to me, she smiled with her whole being. We shook hands, sort of, and she introduced the man she was with as her ex-husband. Recently ex, to be sure and from what I had already heard. We shared a few moments, and smiles, but it was not exactly the time to start necking or something, so we excused ourselves and hurried on out, having finished and paid for our meal (thanks, friend, and I do use the term ‘friend’ lightly) (inside yearbook joke).

In any case, a gal pal of my friend had asked for some help and my friend asked if I would help. Sure, so we went over and helped. There was not a great deal to do, but it was fun. We had a few beers, talked, and just shared some good company. He is the city attorney and she does something with welfare or child custody, but are really just work friends. His girlfriend kept calling, and after about the third time, he just started ignoring her calls. His girlfriend is also an attorney, it seems, but neurosis can strike anywhere, if you ask me. *laughs* It had become quite late, so my friend invited me to crash at his place. That worked well, so I stayed over. We stayed up late talking and laughing, catching up where one of us knew something and just comparing ideas. The next morning, he had to be to work so he let me know what food was available and gave me his contact information and then headed out. I took a shower, relaxed in front of the tube for a show as I am a bit road weary at this point, then I took off. About two hours into my trip, he called and asked if I would be around for a few more hours. I had to, sadly, decline. The road had claimed me and backtracking would have eaten at least an hour of those two hours as well.

On to Wyoming, to by birth mother’s home I traveled. It turns out that it was a good thing I had not stayed longer with my friend. I did remember where my mother lived and worked. Having had difficulty contacting this mother, I worried that she might not still be living there. So, I went to her work first, and asked about her. When I mentioned her name, they asked if I meant so-and-so. I was not sure, but thought it could be, especially after they told me she retired (it seemed to be the right age). Plus, when we agreed about where she lived (or had lived), it all came together. On to her home I went. She was there and seemed happy to see me. She gave me a hug and invited me in. As I entered, I noted that her bags were packed for something. It seems she was getting ready to go somewhere as her oldest official son was to be married this fall, and there was some sort of mutual family gathering. We spent an hour or so talking and catching up. She, it seems, never moved or changed her phone nor did she de-list her number. I was looking for her using her maiden name, my bad. She is getting older and life is more difficult for her, but she still seems well enough. I also found out the other Jeff, my other half brother, committed suicide. She seemed to disbelieve this as much as she is unsure whether I am her son. I suggested, since she is no longer working and lives in the county of my birth, that with her and me both willing to sign things, she could do a more exhaustive search of the paperwork. Barring that, we could also do a maternity genetic test. I need to find out how much that would cost. For my part, I am sure she is my mother. I also asked what she thought of me taking, legally, my birth father’s last name as my own. She is torn on that issue, but I will or will not do so on my own. I just thought I would run that by her. After an hour, I could see that it was about time for her ride to show up. So, I asked for her information and promised to keep better contact and, after a few more hugs, I headed out the door.

Though it was getting later, I decided to press on and see how far I could get toward the home of my last mother, my adoptive mother. I ended up actually driving 18, on top of the two hours looking up and then talking with my birth mother. I had meant to shut down if I could find a place to stay, but the first three towns with places to stay were either full, closed, or simply had full parking lots. Sheldon, Iowa was where I was able to find lodging. At 4:00, I drove in, got a room, and asked them to set an alarm. They offered me a little extra time, setting it for 12:00. However, I know an alarm did not go off, so they let me sleep even more. Leaving at closer to 13:00, after having awaken fearfully at 12:45 and rushed to shower, dress, and head out, the register lady was quite pleasant and relaxed about my lateness.

Thankfully, it would be a short drive to my mother’s home, wherever that might be at this point. She had, a week prior to my trip and throughout my trip, been telling me very troubling things. She had indicated that she had sold her house, and that she was going to give my brother and myself some of the proceeds, then use the remaining amount to buy a place. Then she indicated that she was going to use all of it on a new place, but it did not make sense as the “new place” actually only cost a quarter of what she was selling her home. Then, she indicated that it was all done. She was drinking every time I talked to her, as well. I was terrified that she had sold her old house, purchased poorly, then had gambled the rest away! She is impossible to talk to when she has been drinking, so I never pursued that while I was on the road. A quick call and I learned that all might not be lost. She, at least for the moment, was still at her main old home, and she asked me to stop there, and stay there while home.

I showed up and she was there. Fit as a fiddle, messing around on her computer, and very sober. As it turns out, I am glad I just let things go until I could talk to her, face to face. Not only has she not sold her place (yet), she has not bought into the place she was thinking of buying into, and she has actually made alternative plans. I think she realized her drinking had become a bit of a problem as well, as her new plans included getting away from that scene (and moving to a town where she does not like the bar!). She used to drink much, but had been doing far better that last 3 years for sure, and more like 10 to 15 years. During this sobriety, we had become very close. And, whether she knew it or not, if her drinking was to pick up, I would have been done with her except to call (if she was sober) to see about her. In any case, one huge worry gone.

We spent a few days talking, I learned of her plans, and I heard about my “brother’s” call and her response. I certainly support much of what she is doing or trying to do. I see she has made some good choices, and I think her plans will work out well. I am a bit peeved about the inheritance, but I will get over that if it does not pan out. It is not so much the money as being told with surety that money is on the way and planning around it only to have it disappear. Still, if she really needs the wad, good for her. She is my mother, not my banker. I do worry about her though, drinking is a serious problem, time is passing, and options close that may never be available again. For this, I pray.

After my time there, I returned home. That was the shortest drive of the trip, and gladly so. I had to put bedding back on my bed, unpack for the most part, begin laundry, and set up an appointment with an academic adviser. I have a remaining bill to pay, which I think I will send out this evening even though it will not go out until tomorrow, and many other things crowding in and vying for my time, energy, and money. But, it is very good to be home in spite of it being a miraculous trip.

I am home.

I tried to email and blog on the road, however, that did not work. Now that I am home, I have many things to do. Blogging is the first, if perhaps the least, of those things. Yet, it is a good beginning. By doing this, I will let all those who look know at once that I am indeed returned in health and vigor and safety to my humble abode.

The trip went nearly as planned, only one element failed. The driving ended being not 12 hour drives, but more in the range of 14 to 18 hour drives, yet they came off without a hitch. As well, a few unforeseen elements became handsome parts of my trip. I will attempt to share what occurred, in a very general form, later to blog on specific components of the adventure which require their own forms.

I did begin my westward advance on Wednesday, June 18th at 23:00. My first destination was Colorado Springs. Two out of three of my email confirmations indicated, to my first host, that I would be arriving Thursday, June 19th. However, in my rush my final email indicated I would not be arriving until Friday. In any case, my host was gracious and recovered my erroneous action and allowed it to become a simple thing. We spent that afternoon discussing life and becoming acquainted. He has a wonderful family, a fine ‘establishment’, and the lot there made for a very comfortable stay. I am not sure what they were expecting from me, or whether I fit the bill as I write. For my part, I was somewhat surprised by those I met. I thought I had left my mind open, yet I find that I had not. In final analysis, I was pleasantly surprised, even going in with high expectations as it turns out.

We spent part of that first day running errands in preparation for the larger groups and the main of the compliment that were to arrive through time. The following day, after a fine breakfast (our host and hostess put out meals of great value and worth, seemingly effortlessly), an assorted group of us, including two of us early arrivers, our host, and two kinsman of our host, left for a visit to Pike’s Peak. There was good company and conversation, dry and not so dry humor, conversation, and a beginning to mutual introductions. The day drive was dotted with stops for sight seeing, information regarding the area, Pike’s Peak, and separate interesting events regarding transmission fluid and break heating. We had quite a large group, perhaps half of a football team’s starting line, in the vehicle. But quite a good day to be sure.

People began arriving as we returned and throughout the day and evening, I believe right up until the next morning. We all seemed to just wake up on time, and get in for breakfast. I myself had no alarm clock, so I was a bit surprised that I did not need a call. After breakfast, we packed up and headed toward our first rafting experience. Water was high, and many parts of this particular run were not open, so we took the run available, then when we finished it, we were served lunch and bused back to our initial put in point for another run. Our groups, those in my boat and those in the boat with the rest of our group, did well. However, there was one boat which capsized, one boat lost two members, and another boat lost it’s guide. All these were recovered, and the show, as it were, went on. At the end of the day, some headed home, many stayed a while and we ate a good meal, smoked various things, and drank many other things.

Ok, so you caught me. I did smoke cigars while there, and probably will every time I visit. My bad. Anyway…

The next day we needed to be up earlier. There were few of us left, 5 actually. We, again, consumed a fine morning fare, geared up, and mounted for our ride to the outfitters. I had a odious premonition. I did not think it was about me, I did not think it involved death, and either way I was not sure I should say anything, so mum I was. On we drove, arriving in plenty of time to suit out, lock our gear in the vehicle, then load into the bus for an expert white-water event. It seems as if we were much higher. And, being cloudy that day, were it was not the day before, those two last seemed to result in much colder water. For now, all I will say was… my premonition turned out to be mostly correct… and we had one hell of a ride and day. Some of us more than others? More to come about this in a separate blog.

That evening there was, again, great cheer, food, drink, and smoke. One of our number needed a small hospital visit, one of our lot was a bit bruised, sore, yet pleased, and all of us came away a little different. Though one of this last group had to go, I think a bond was created, it was good.

The next two days, our host needed to work, so his gracious lady escorted the two remaining visitors, myself included, around Colorado Springs and the surrounding areas. Aside from visiting various areas within CS, we also explored a park which may or may not have been in CS, a nearby town I believe named Manitu Springs (which actually has several artisan wells offering carbonated and not mineral waters free for the sampling), a hiking visit to the petrified redwood forest (well, a kin to redwoods), and finally to Cripple Creek (a gambling town on the other side of Pike’s Peak). Though I should have slept the last day so that I would be ready for what ended up being a 14 hour night drive through the mountains, then into Utah, and then finally to Las Vegas, I pushed on and then pushed on.

Leaving late and after a long day of hiking, walking, and driving, I headed to Las Vegas. I am glad I left at night, though if I do it again, I might leave earlier. As soon as the sun goes down would be about the best time to leave, as the sun sears the path to Las Vegas when it is up. I was so very drowsy on the way, I should have stayed another day or rested along the way, yet I was trying to make my schedule. I made it, hot, thirsty, and tired, but on time.

My friend and I had some talk, a bit more scotch, a cigar or two, and some good meals. The heat was impressive, yet I seemed to do fairly well until I needed to cool down and could not a time or two. I just suffered through and came out fine. I figured out a trick or two as well, but nothing to write home (or here) about. Though a little hint about one thing is, like with extreme cold, move slowly and deliberately in order to avoid breaking a sweat. He was between trips, literally having just gotten back from a two week trip, while being required to do a load of graduate level work and catch up as he could before again heading off on another two week trip (both trips being academically oriented, so almost all work and thought with little time for play or anything else). I think his work is stressful, as he is a bit grumpier than last I knew him. Though I think the heat and the travel were playing their part. Fine, fine, still, it was quite good to see him. I do think of him as a younger brother, maybe a smarter one in certain fields, but so be it. Well, at least he knows I mean it, sometimes, when I suggest I ought to visit sometime.

While there, I looked up my “brother”. I gave him one more chance to make amends, no fault. He rebuffed my offer and so I left. As I was leaving, he asked who had told me where to find him. I admitted it was my mother. I realized as I was leaving that, without some warning, this buffoon would verbally assault my mother for having given me this information, so I made sure to call her and warn her. For once, I think the woman held her own against the ogre. He called her at work and, as he usually does but with added furor as I have come to find out, he scorned and howled at this woman who had changed his diapers, fed him, clothed him. He demanded to know how she could betray him like this. This time, she told him to stop and back off, especially while she was working like a dog to make ends meet, and suggested he look up the work betrayal. Perhaps he should consider what his part in betrayal really is. I was proud of her. One door closed, for my part. I just hope she does not lose access to the grandkids she so dearly loves.

However, my visit to Vegas was fantastic. I do not gamble or anything. It was visiting a friend and learning more about the physical nature of Vegas, reading a bit about it’s history, and learning what my friend is studying and about his research. I had a lot of fun catching up, debating a bit, and seeing where he is in life. I ended up staying an extra day. At first my friend was really put out with this. In the end, I think he was glad for it for some reason. Whether the tweakiness of the heat, travel, and study put him out or whether I interfered with something, I am not sure. It all worked out and we left on good terms.

The reason I stayed a day longer was due to the fact that the off-roading fell through and I was just plumb tired. There were two off-road trips planned by members of the group with which I had been in contact, but both were class 4 or class 4 to 5 trips. Both of those require a great deal of experience or that plus a modified “rig”. I had neither. In spite of more than a months advance of asking for a beginners ride, the group failed. I will, the next time I get out that way, have my own plans. I will begin doing research and I will have a number of places I could go and just check with the group as to whether the areas are open or not. I will then post a number and an invite and plan on going alone. It was a bit disappointing, but it happens.

On my way through Utah I almost considered trying to make contact with someone I have been writing. She was disappointed that I had not been able to fit her into my plans, but I did not realize I would be coming through Utah until far too late. I had done time and distance planning, but I had not actually looked at the map prior to my planning. And, though I could have gone on to see her, I had absolutely zero plans as to how, where, when, or even if we could have made a connection. As well, I had no means of getting an email out on the fly like that (it seems I can only receive emails in some spots and with my phone). I was ready to begin my last stages of coming home, as well. I was tired, it was time.

The last bits to come soon, when I rest a bit. And, of course, some interesting tidbits to follow that as well. Oh, some of you will be receiving emails, a check, many thanks, and all that through various media too. Just, be a little patient, I am delicate, dontcha know?