To Build A Fire

Dream Job

2009-04-01T21:14:00.002-06:00

Backpacker Magazine is looking for a new reader test panel. Enjoy the video and wish me luck.

Thawing out

2009-02-28T19:18:00.009-07:00

The Osprey is not to be reckoned with. It has been known to pick up unsuspecting would be hikers, carry them for miles, and drop them, flailing feet and all to a not so soft landing, sometimes (most the time) very far from home.

The weather is clearing. Snow has turned to water, making mud, and creating ideal break-in-new pack conditions. Lame that I've packed up all my gear for a short hike right by my house? Maybe, but the Osprey is convincing and persistent. It will not be fooled by balled up sweatshirts, and or aerobic weights. It must sense the gear inside is real. Plus I've been dying to look at my old camping stuff for months now. Nichole watched me, silent and somewhat grim I thought. So what if I walk through the neighborhood to the trail? She was disappointed that I declined the mask she offered me that would protect us from possible neighborhood shame. Maybe, but a guy with a full loaded pack is suspicious enough. Add a mask to that scenerio and the SWAT team would probably tackle me ten steps out the door (possibly damaging gear/pack). She watched me go, contemplating this, and sending up a silent prayer that neighbors would be sleeping in. After a three mile stroll, with no injuries, and the overwhelming feeling of joy that follows from doing something you love, I stumbled in door and contemplated the amazing joy that Spring brings.

Living in the Past

2009-01-25T13:04:00.004-07:00

Mrs. Haslam was my English teacher senior year of High School. She was funny and cool. As an assignment, she had us write a book of "poems", which I found this weekend. Partly due to her greatness as a teacher I was inspired to pursue English as a college major. Thanks Mrs. Haslam!

SCHOOL

SCHOOL

Learning , boring

Writing, notetaking, reading

Books teachers, girls, beaches

Running jumping, yelling

Laughing, tanning

SUMMER

LOVE

Love looks like two old couples holding hands

Love smells like pefume and cologne in the master bedroom.

Love feels like you can conquer the world.

Love tastes like an Alpine White.

Love Sounds like a freight train.

Love is as sweet as you choose to make it.

Music

Music is the hand that reaches

Under your

Skin and gets

Inside your soul

Constantly

Varieties of Crazy

The Crazy of brutally stabbing your wife because of your overcooked dinner.

The Crazy of looking through the cross hairs of a sniper rifle and pulling the trigger.

The Crazy of being fired from a job you've had for 50 years.

The Crazy of catching your neighbor in bed with your wife.

The Crazy of loving someone you know will never love you.

The Crazy you feel trapped under tons of debris waiting for rescue teams to find you.

I AM

The Great Salt Lake, nice to look at but salty beneath the surface.

A volcano, lible to erupt at any moment.

Square, easy to understand.

Cactus, pricks people when they get too close.

Apple, crisp on some days and mushy on others.

Panther, stalks his prey in the night.

Bee, stings when angered.

Oak, constantly strong and reliable.

84' GMC Jimmy, never breaks down.

Snickers, many layers and most of them good.

Cinnamon Toast Crunch, rarely get soggy.

Reluctantly crouched at the starting line...

2008-07-27T21:10:00.003-06:00

I guess what puzzled me most was the fun I had. Nichole wanted me to run a 5K race for her birthday, so I grudgingly obliged. I often tell people I only run when being chased, which usually provokes a guffaw or courtesy laugh, but the truth is I really don't like running, its no joke at all. This race was our first, and we stuck out like sore thumbs. Both of us wore the free T-shirt thinking it was mandatory racing apparel, only to find everyone else in Nike racing gear, and wearing Ipods, which we also weren't sure would be allowed. Why wouldn't they be ??? So the Goughs were tourists in a strange land. Upon exiting the vehicle, I hit the ground like a jumpy war Vet and starting stretching in a vain attempt to fit in. There was a speaker system set up which was pumping some dope tunes, and everyone was swinging arms and kicking legs and there was a general feeling of nervousness and excitement in the air which was very contagious. We all lined up and the DJ counted down... 3...2...1.. GO ! Nichole promptly became a speck in the distance. What happened to sticking together? I thought as she disappeared. My thoughts wandered as I ran. How did Forest Gump do it? Simply amazing. I had a fat person pass me and was shaken back to reality. 27 minutes later I bolted across the finish line with lots of people cheering and the speakers bumping Zeppelin. Nichole was there as well. Fully dressed and showered.

The Joys of Reading

2008-05-04T15:26:00.008-06:00

I was sucked into the world of literature in the 5 th Grade, where I have stayed comfortably ever since. During my reading of Where the Red Fern Grows I could feel myself chasing coons, with Ol'Dan and Li'l Ann at my side. I was moved for the first time to tears and laughter, by another world. I found that my daily mood was contingent upon what was happening in the novel, and it was exhilerating beyond anything I had ever felt before. The experience was deep enough to impact me forever. My good friend Les asked me the other night if I'd ever made a list of every book I've ever read and it made me think about the significant impact that books have had in my life. As I compiled the list below I thumbed through some pages and read marked passages, wishing my memory could store them permantly. For people who say they don't like to read, I say you haven't found the right book; Keep looking:)

Where the Red Fern Grows Rawls

I am the Cheese Cormier

1984 Orwell

Animal Farm Orwell

Lord of the Flies Golding

Lord of the Rings Tolkien

The Hobbit Tolkien

Death watch White

Seize the Day Bellow

Lost in the Barrens Mowat

DragonLance (100 books)

Hatchet Paulsen

The River Paulsen

Motherless Brooklyn Lethem

Our Search for Happiness Ballard

Jesus the Christ Talmage

Articles of Faith Talmage

Beleiving Christ Robinson

The Book of Mormon

The Bible

Handcarts to Zion Hafen

Heart of Darkness Conrad

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer Twain

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn Twain

The Great Santini Conroy

The Prince of Tides Conroy

Nine Stories Salinger

The Catcher in the Rye Salinger

Franny and Zooey Salinger

Sister Carrie Dreiser

Into Thin Air Krakauer

Into the Wild Krakauer

Dispatches Herr

We Were Soldiers Once and Young Moore

The Things they Carried O'brien

The Call of the Wild London

Night Wiesel

Just one look Coben

Tell No One Coben

Hiroshima Hersey

The Autobigraphy of Malcolm X Haley

1776 McCullough

Gilead Robinson

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close Foer

Five Chimneys Lengyel

Ironweed Kennedy

Desert Solotaire Abbey

Ceremony Silko

Civilization and its Discontents Freud

The Cunning of History Rubenstein

Darkness Visible: A memoir of madness Styron

The Road McCarthy

Child of God McCarthy

Blood Meridian McCarthy

Close Range Proulx

For Whom the Bell Tolls Hemmingway

A Farewell to Arms Hemmingway

Endurance Lansing

Zorba the Greek Kazantzakis

The Dead Joyce

The Gulag Archipelago Solzhenitsyn

In Cold Blood Capote

A River Runs Through It Maclain

Touching the Void Simpson

Mawsons Will Bickel

Myths to Live By Campbell

Siddhartha Hesse

The Fall Camus

The Plague Camus

The Gift Mauss

The Red Badge of Courage Crane

The Future of Life Wilson

On Writing King

Minus 148 Davidson

The Land of Little Rain Austin

The Country of the Pointed Firs Jewett

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance Pirsig

The French Lieutenants Woman Fowels

Grizzley Years Peacock

A Cockwork Orange Burgess

The Life of Pi Martel

The Art of Drowning Collins

The Apple that Astonished Paris Collins

The Trouble With Poetry Collins

2007's book list

2008-01-06T20:05:00.000-07:00

Like all good things it went to fast and seems like a blur. Life lessons were learned this past year as the book team plowed through these novels. None were bad, most were great. I've added the book jackets below so you can choose those that sound appealing for your own entertainment.

If you find alot of money and a bunch of dead people around just go home. Oh, and never toss coins with Chigurh.

We should embrace all aspects of our everyday life with Zorba-like gusto.

Don't wander out after dark, for risk of being tolchocked in the rot and severely violated.

Food storage takes on a whole new meaning in a post-apocolypic world. Please pass the human leg.

We are cheating ourselves when we ignore the call to Seize the Day.

Being a parent is a daunting task. Damaging our kids for life is very possible.

Its hard to be taken seriously as a detective when you have tourettes hotdogbaileyessrog!!

911 was very real and very sad.

Being to smart can muddle your mind, but big brothers can help.

The Judge never sleeps and is always naked. They say he'll never die.

You can be 72 and still write the best novel in the world--if it has lots of trees in it.

Losing Faith: Finding Amy

2007-12-16T15:42:00.000-07:00

After college graduation, I was armed with a strong resolve to be a counselor for troubled youth.I took an internship with a center for troubled kids, but after a month of battling the more difficult cases, I realized this was not what I was looking for in a career and I felt lost-- my sense of direction was broken, and faith in my own ability and Gods plan for me sufficiently weakened.

I was young and filled with enthusiasm for the journey ahead. I had plans and dreams, which I started to pursue with a firm determination, only coming up empty.

While I was trying to figure things out, I decided to start substitute teaching. Christmas was coming and I needed quick cash. I went and signed up on a dismal day, not in the best of spirits and upon entering the office, the secretary asked me several questions, one of which changed my life: "What about out special needs children?" Shortly thereafter, I received a call (not many people are willing to sub special needs children), which I immediately accepted. Just getting out of the house was a breath of fresh air, and the chance of a new start.

Kyle spit on me when I first walked in the door. "Kyle!" screamed one of the teachers (there was a class of 6 kids, with 3 teachers, I was subbing for teacher number 3). Kyle was autistic and his routine, when interrupted upset him very much. I wiped spit from the front of my shirt, and mentally sighed. Amy was the child assigned to me. She was four feet tall with black hair, green eyes and the face of a downs child. She clung to me as we went to the different classrooms, and seemed very pleased I was there even though Chaos prevailed in the classroom. This was a low functioning group that was difficult to handle, and I was amazed as the realization hit me that there were people patient enough to be with these kids every day. I was obviously not one of them, and as the day drug on, my patience grew thin for the group. However, my curiosity and affection for Amy grew stronger. She was so tender-hearted and sweet. She couldn't speak clearly, but seemed to be trying to tell me something. Still, dwelling on the present was not foremost in my mind. I was trapped and wanted desperately to be somewhere else, the worries of life stark before me. I wondered how a burning desire to be successful had filled me through and after college, only now to leave me confused and afraid. Something was missing; my mind tried to recall logically was it could be, and confusion overwhelmed me.

At the end of the day Amy looked straight at me, as if to say 'I love you, thanks for taking care of me.' I understood then that my heart had the answers that my mind did not. Suddenly the fog lifted from my mind, and I felt at peace. I realized that everything would be okay if I just had patience and faith--things that had been buried under my own ambitions the last four years. In Amys eyes, just for a second, I was looking not at a small downs child, but a full grown, beautiful woman, who was perfect in heaven, and had been sent to earth to help the faith of those who needed it. I was instantly reminded that the Lord will test us, but not past our limitations. Tears welled up in my eyes as I reached down and hugged Amy goodbye.

As I drove home, I pondered the Saviors love for me as an individual, in giving me specific trials and experieces to learn from. I knew that faith was the belief in things not seen, and by revisiting the spiritual things I believed in my faith was renewed, and I could go on living a happy life, because I truly believed I had the Lords direction and guidance. I realized that didn't mean guidance would lead me down a happy path all the time-- sorrow being essential to my growth in character and wisdom. It dawned on me that the teachers were not there to teach these special children; they were here to teach them, me. Amys innocent loving spirit buoyed these simple thoughts to the top of my mind and heart, where they've stayed ever since-- especially during the hard times.

Its been nearly ten years since that day in the classroom, and here I am with my family, twelve days before Christmas, standing over Amys grave. I think back to that day, which seems like a dream to me now, all the small details blurry and indistinct, but there is still one very vivid and beautiful memory. Throughout the day Amy kept pointing to a snow globe in the classroom. I would pick it up and shake it, while she stood watching the flakes slowly settle at the mini carolers feet. She would emphatically point at it, until I repeated the process. I did this all day, and when I went to leave Amy insisted I take it. The other teachers said she had never been as adamant about something before, so I took the Globe and it has since brought many happy memories to our home.

All those years ago, Amy's sweet spirit touched my life in a profound way. She gave me the gift of remembering my Heavenly father loved and cared for me. He hadn't left me alone, and never would. I shook the snow globe lightly and placed it on her head stone, leaving with it a prayer of thanks, and a few tear drops.

JT

2007-11-29T21:00:00.000-07:00

The song he just finished before this "Fire and Rain" rendition was the Beatles "With a Little Help from My Friends", which was the bomb. I love to see artists giving tribute to each other and pointing out their own tastes in music. I've been a huge JT fan for as long as I can remember (not to mention the Beatles!). There is such a sadness in many of his songs that is strangly appealing to me, although in a happy way. I've seen him in concert three times , and although he's lost all his hair, he can still play like nobodys business. I bought a guitar eight years ago with the sole purpose of learning to play "fire and rain". The Guitar's currently got an inch of dust on it, but my intentions were good.

Angles

2007-10-25T21:20:00.000-06:00

The banister post is not parallel with the fifth stair like I once thought it was. A glance always gave the impression that if I took a string and pulled it tight it would create an exactly straight line. I realized today that it doesn't and for some reason I feel bothered by it.

Slickrock

2007-10-01T21:58:00.000-06:00

The sign at the trail head reads "This is the toughest trail in Moab, it is not for beginners. Unfortunately, many people have been seriously injured on this trail." You can understand my initial reluctance to carry on, having not ridden any bike since I was thirteen. However, I wasn't about to tuck tail and wait for my brother-in-laws in the car, so with possible maiming in mind I peddled awkwardly to the starting point. Up and down, up, up, up and down. The wind blew so hard even the downs felt like ups. I walked my bike like a sissy up many of the steep climbs. I even was passed by a couple girls, and just hung my head in silent shame.

All that being said, the scenery was amazing (of course!) and as it always is, looking back it was worth it - all 12 miles !

Which Ways North ?

Wind Rivers Stough #2

2007-09-21T22:35:00.000-06:00

The Winds

2007-09-10T21:06:00.000-06:00

I recently went on a backpacking trip to the Wind Rivers in Wyoming with a group of friends. Its an amazing range spanning 80 miles long and 30 miles wide with several wilderness areas throughout. We went to the Popie Agie (pronounced poposha)wilderness about 8 miles in to Stough Creek Lakes. Its a pristine alpine landscape with granite spires in every direction and lakes dotting the amphitheater floor. The trip was one of the best I've been on for several reasons: the trail was shaded the whole way. There were NO BUGS at all. The weather was perfect the entire time and I wasn't mauled by a bear.

We stayed 4 days, hiked probably 20 miles and saw some beautiful country. To quote a phrase from a favorite novel it became "more perfect" daily. On the last evening I slipped away from camp and sat next to a lake watching everything. A muskrat swam around in the middle, back and forth like a lap swimmer in a pool, then dove and reappeared with a fish. The sky was clear and I spotted a falcon miles away, circling a huge cliff face. I felt like Ralphie on Christmas night as he clutched his Red Ryder BB gun (with a compass in the stock).

Colie takes a hit

2007-08-19T09:40:00.000-06:00

Paradise

2007-08-08T23:08:00.000-06:00

"My idea of paradise is a perfect automobile
going thirty miles an hour on a smooth road to a twelth century catherdral"

-Henry James

It will be different for all of us of course.

Theres a chance I'll be on a backcountry lake eternally with other outdoorsman- plenty of fish for all. Every cast would be perfect and yield a killer strike. If I was in no mood to share the lake that day, people would just melt into the water, and be chalked up as a mirage. I would envision whoever I felt like talking to, they would appear and be talkative on demand or attentive to my ramblings as I saw fit. Noah would keep swimming close to the canoe, trying to dump me when I wasn't keeping a wily eye out. He likes the water now, and never held a grudge.

John Muir and I would climb the highest pine tree on the hill, letting the rain sting our faces in pure ecstasy while lighting crashed harmlessly around us. The animals would come to the fire at night- a regular garden of Eden, where smokey the bear is real and has a killer singing voice.

No aches, or pains, just a perfect body in a perfect place for eternity.

Barbacoa

2007-07-25T22:21:00.000-06:00

I wonder if the Indians
Wanted to be somewhere
Else during these festivities
Like we do today –
Never content with the current company.
I bet they envisioned (after a few peyote hits)
Texting and talking to other tribes on cell phones
Letters and words ricocheting from tepee to tepee
Attempting to get through somehow.

Zorba the Greek

2007-07-15T18:48:00.000-06:00

Last week as I rinsed off my sweaty face with cool water and looked into the mirror I thought of Zorba. I pictured him staggering down the mountain with a coal blackened face, grinning ear to ear at the boss, which made me wonder why I was not grinning ear to ear after laboring in the heat all day. I read this book about five years ago and loved it. I think back then it was the theme of friendships unraveling and lost forever that touched me, and helped secure a spot on my favorite list, but what stuck out this time was Zorba's insatiable zest for life. No matter what he's doing its 110%, and its as if he's seeing the world for the first time everyday.

"He has been all over the racked and chaotic Balkans and observed everything with his little falcon-like eyes which he constantly opens wide in amazement."

His fun loving and free spirited attitude is envied by the boss. He loves to talk to Zorba and take everything in because living a studious knowledge driven life has left him bereft of life. The boss waxes philosophical in many parts throughout. He just can't wrap his mind around the time he's wasted not seizing the day, and regret eats at him constantly.

I loved the tid bits of truth, by both men, which the book is full of:

Zorba - "What is a woman, and why does she turn our heads? Just tell me, I ask you, whats the meaning of that?"

Boss - "I felt once more how simple and frugal a thing is happiness: a glass of wine, a roast chestnut, a wretched little brazier, the sound of the sea. Nothing else.

Its a fun read that was thought provoking and has made me more Zorba-like in my approach to daily life.

Musical Mystery

2007-06-30T15:32:00.000-06:00

Bits of random lyrics sometimes strike me. Walking through the grocery store today I heard a song that pulled my mind to Subway, closing the store ten years ago as a Sandwich artist. The lyrics are what grab me when any song plays, striking a deep chord of truth. Clark and I would always hear the song Closing Time at Subway and I loved the lyric:

"One last call for alcohol so finish your whiskey or beer,
closing time you don't have to go home but you can't stay here."

I love what that says, its not profound or deep, but simple and true. I don't like entire song and never have, but there are millions of lyrics out there, that bring grins to faces that only you understand. Special moments you share internally when in the store, or car.

I thought about finding good in everything we can, even a crappy song with a few good lines.

Why Bother

2007-06-24T20:21:00.001-06:00

I've come to dread nights. The woods are a retreat, an amazing escape from the hum drum of city life. I always hear people say the fresh air is fantastic, but I've never really understood that. Its the scenery that overwhelms me, takes my breath, and further endorses my belief in God. I wrote in my journal several years ago about the preparation and experience of camping: packing, planning, fighting mosquitoes (literally), and laying in a tent for 15 hours while rain pounds your tiny world, wind refuses to let you sleep, and every noise brings the word bear to mind.

I was worried that Mikayla (because of her gene pool) might experience the same night anxiety and thus add another crux to Nicks already sleepless camping nights. Nichole and I took the little sweetie to Taylors Fork campground in the Uintas last weekend, and she proved to be her mothers daughter, sleeping all night without even a twitch. I think she was dreaming of flies lightly brushing the surface of a calm lake, enticing fat trout to eat.

I came to the same conclusion after last weekend that I did years ago. Its the quite moments of solitude that sustain me, keep me coming back for more sleepless nights; fly-fishing until my arm is ready to fall off, gazing off into the woods as if entranced, enjoying and soaking in everything..... waiting for Mikaylas dream to come true.

Hungry Fish

2007-06-10T21:55:00.000-06:00

It must have been a long cold winter.

First trip of the year..

2007-06-10T21:49:00.000-06:00

"We have an unknown distance yet to run... what falls there are, we know not, what rocks beset the channel, we know not, what walls rise over the river we know not."

So I'm no Jhon Wesley Powell , but it was cold out!!

Trial Lake May 29, 2007.. Still half frozen.