Enter music: "Shaking the Tree" by Peter Gabriel....


Those of you that know me, know that I totally love this song, and serves as a partial inspiration for this quick daylight-savings entry...

So, the last entry was dedicated to the wonderful Chamberlains- the Alaska chapter.
Well, this entry is dedicated to a good friend of mine, currently residing in Israel- the Holy Land.
Zachary Christopher Mauss is one of my best buds. He was keen enough to write me a message the other day, so I decided: "Zachy, this one goes out to you bud!"

He is actually the photographer behind the magic of my stream crossing photo above, thus creating the background picture for my blog - DUH!

Well, anyway... He is a great partner in crime when it comes to Adventure, as are many of you- He suggested that when I return to Morgantown I should eat some Black Bear and have a few rogues, in his honor, naturally, and frankly, it's the least I can do. Always trying to be the overdoer when it comes to fulfilling obligations, I mean, I would basically be a bad friend if I didn't follow through.....

Speaking of Adventure, I have a fateful tale for you that happened this night. My 4Runner, shall we call it, GUS? Gus- the big green 4Runner, kind of like Clifford the big red dog, only not as fluffy. Anyway...

Randomly, for the past few weeks, my left front tire has been randomly and unusually low on tire pressure. Well, tonight, I was in charge of hosting dinner at the ranch. This means I dress up ever so slightly, make sure the kitchen runs smoothly, attend to the guests needs, etc. etc.

How does this involve tire pressure? I will answer - have no fear...


Sooooooooooo, I show up to the ranch about 20 minutes early, as I am going to pull my 4Runner into the garage and use our air compressor to fill up my tire. Great. So- I do... uneventful enough- I accidentally fill the tire to 40 lbs. of pressure, I only need 35 lbs. So, I take the nozzle to the compressor and stick it back onto the stem of the tire to release 5 lbs. of pressure. The nozzle gets stuck. Cro-magnon Kevin tugs in the nozzle... nozzle pulls out the entire dry-rotted stem of my tire and before my eyes, I watch in horror as my front left tire breathes it last breaths for the evening...

GREAT.

5 minutes to be hosting dinner and I am standing with a tire stem in my left hand, eyes wide, and in utter shock as my truck sits there. Dead. Lifeless; unable to go anywhere!!!

Screw it.


I walk into the kitchen stressed out as all get out, and the chef;s think it is because this is my first night hosting..... NO NO NO- I explain the situation, they try to calm me down.... no good.....


time passes, I collect my nerves.... eat dinner, entertain.... have a grand time, and then go head to head with the metal beast that is my beloved, stubborn, road-tripping monster: GUS.

It takes me a good 30 minutes to locate all of the correct tools to change my flat and put on my spare. Sheesh. My this time it is easily 10:30 pm, GMT.

Well well well.... so our tire iron in the shop is bent to the left, our hydraulic jack is broken. GREAT! So... if the night couldn't get any better, I decide I should close the garage door. it is only 38 outside (a warm Spring evening), but I get al lil' paranoid in Mountain Lion country, not that they would really mess with me, but why take the risk- plu the door open was distracting me. We all know I am pretty buff and could easily kill an assailing Mtn. Lion with the tooth pick from a boyscout Swiss army knife- but let's not go there, after all, I'm a uniter, not a divider....

But I digress.......


Long story short, I am done, after finding tools, using brute strength to loosen airgun-tight lug nuts, and putting all said tools back in their respective "homes."


Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr....


Well, the event is so ,well.... "eventful" that I wanted to share it. There ya go- typical Kev story, no real point.... just sharing for what it's worth...

All I wanted to do was go home and relax tonight and I had to punish my biceps with car work!!!! But all is good. I checked my e-mail late night, saw a message from Zach, from LEAF, from Amo, and I was excited to share with you my little story. Oh- I had a message from Lindsay too!

Anyway...

I love Clark, but when you know you are returning east for an amazing job, good friends, world-class climbing, and good time, it is sometimes easy to say "sianora" to rural, small-town Clark, Colorado. I love it here, my heart home is among the hills. My heart is in the highlands.
I will miss the "champagne powder" as they have coined the term in this neck of the woods... but that Conquenessing Sandstone calls my name "Kevin... pull hard holmes..."

So, I aim to return east, meet back up with lots of you, climb, conference, recert WFR, and move to Norte-Cakalaka! Which, is Spanish for, North-Cakalaka... in case you were wondering.

Anyway... I leave you with an image of the old beast that is hopefully getting me back to the right-most-coast.

Miss you all, Set those clocks back and enjoy the sunshine!



Love,




Kev



My "mighty steed of steel" and my Cabin. Word.