Time To Post

Where do I start?  It's been a long time since my last post.  It could be a new record.

I made it to Florida.  It's still my home, my heart and soul still reside there.  There are so many things in Florida that have deep meaning:  Like the tenacity of Smilax vine, a summer thunder storm, 97 degree days with 85% humidity and no air conditioning, seeing my sisters and family, pedaling with the guys in Gainesville and Chad. P., seeing 42 swallow-tailed kites in less than three weeks, swimming in Juniper Run and the Atlantic, and seeing the result of a fire that ran through a mature live oak hammock on the edge of Lowry Lake in Camp Blanding.  All good stuff, especially the swallow-tailed kites.  Their numbers have increased tremendously in the past 30 years.  I saw my first swallow-tailed kite in 1978, the most beautiful and strange bird I'd ever seen.  It was flying low over Black Creek.  My father knew what it was, but said he had not seen one in many years.  In the 80s and 90s, you would be lucky to see one or two a year.  Now, they are quite common, and I feel lucky that I got to see so many.

I made it back to Utah eight days ago.  I was so happy to see Patty.  Utah, not so much.  However, the mountains were beautiful and it was nice to be back in town where everything is a short bike ride away.

Last Friday I went to play basketball.  I was killing it, until my back went out.  I could not really move for two days.  Dr. Catfish gave me Prednisone, a steroid, so that I could wipe my bottom again.  I'm still in bad shape.  MRI next week?  I think it is time.

This week, I'm in Montana, working hard, swinging a sling blade and lifting heavy objects to improve my back.  Today we floated the Bitterroot.  Yeah.

Bicycles?  Yes, it's time to start thinking about cross season.  For now, I'm still just riding for fun.  I'll get serious after the back surgery.  Idaho to Arizona?  September, perhaps?  Next week, Peter N., my long lost brother, is visiting Logan.  We are going to do some serious epic riding.  I hope he's ready to climb, because we are going up, up, up.

TSA

Dr. Catfish gave me a jar of cashew butter.  I just love cashew butter.  I put it in my backpack along with some PBRs (Power Bars) for the long day of flying.  In the Salt Lake City airport, the TSA man took my cashew butter.  He said "no liquids, pastes, or gels if it's more than 3 ounces."  What could I do?  I hope he enjoyed it.

Flying. Green.

I'm flying home today.  I can't wait for 100 degree days with 85% humidity, fried shrimp, and familiar forests, birds, and spring runs.  Juniper, here I come.  I'm talking about the spring run in the Ocala National Forest, not Jardine.

My last ride was Green Canyon as the sun went down on Friday night.  I've heard folks complain a little about the raging waters.  For me, it's like a whole new trail, now creek side.  I've lived in Logan for 7 years (has it really been that long?) and I've never seen water run out of Green Canyon before.  Yes, there are 22 wet and cold stream crossings if you go all the way up to the upper parking lot and back down.  Pedaling beside the sound of running snow melt is worth falling in now and then, interruption of flow, and constant wet feet.  Well worth it.