Sunday, January 17, 2010

Distant Silhouette Somehow, We Shared a Cigarette Somewhere... Addict Till It Falls, Falls, Falls.

You know, there's nothing quite like a pistachio. I ate plenty of them Saturday, while stuck on a cold, rocky ledge above the Zion Canyon floor--up 185 feet, having only 165 feet of rope...

From Brian falling through the ice on rappel #1, to Toby's white-knuckled stunt on rappel #8, Brian dubbed the day's course as "epic". Whatever one calls it, one must appreciate it as a adrenaline-filled escape, a chance to realize one's exhilarating abilities and physical limits, and a breathtaking experience at every turn and drop.

Constantly focused on each backward step, and with thoughts of, "is my harness on tight?", or, "is that worn carabiner going to snap?", exhaustion had set-in as I weakly and slowly spun down rappel #9, and made the ensuing boulder jump to the Emerald Pools' trail. I turned back from the Grotto to view Zion Canyon--the sun had just set but the silver cottonwoods hadn't yet lost their shimmer. The pack was heavy, and the future is light, and despite not yet having my ideal dealt hand, I recognize a real satisfaction in my life. All the while, I happened to forget the fact that I had some very good news Friday, some very good news...


























"HOYA, HOYA SAXA" For the dear old Blue and Gray!

Monday, December 14, 2009

On the Road, Under a Sky... Coast to Coast.
























Junktown nothing, got to keep it coming
Hipshake gunning, kick start, and I'm running

"Back East", "Out West". It involved four nights in four different states and in each of the four time zones. Let's all hope for good news this Thursday.

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BYU v. Utah, it's my annual tradition to go for a long drive to cool down before the big game.



... and George is still running...

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Sunday, November 15, 2009

Unto the Utmost Bound of the Everlasting Hills...

November 2001, and the "seven sisters" shone brightly, on a cold Harras Bahnsteig below.

"Careful, there's a Mormon around here somewhere", she said--in a dark, drunk basement in Trier. One didn't mind, being singled out--one had already differentiated oneself among the Georgetown students. "Oh, you're the one", said the program director, auf dem Domplatz...

"Beep: verified, verified", alerted the headset for the last time. Fidelity provided the series 7 & 63, but it wasn't a long-term solution; it was time to end the academic deferment and return to the Y.

It's something not seen, but true. An anchor, as it were.

Late-night cards, the "sun-eyed", and a cliché on the Lungarno Corsini... individual events met without hesitation. Finally I encounter the long-foreseen option: a weekend, or fifteen minutes, it was my decision to make. Decisions are best met under counsel, I was once advised. But especially at that time, that I may be inspired.

But the Old Testament mentions the term only twice. Maybe, it's "trust" or "hope", which makes one "sure" and "steadfast"

Lehman crashed: "Tom, I want you to manage the class actions", informed Craig. Finding the way to Goldman was fortunate, but I am making the best of the experience; now a career and a life is clear. All but one piece is in place...

"Please join us in San Francisco on the sixth", they requested--in a late email received on Friday. One feels anxious, being interviewed--one would hope that the personal essays and professional recommendations would've satisfied the "Hoyas". "Oh, you're up next", the assistant dean may say, at Embarcadero. I only have twelve months...

Saturday night, and shoulders sighed once seeing the Pleiades, at their familiar location above.

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Leide und Meide...

Saturday, October 10, 2009

She Ionizes, and Atomizes; then Turns to Sunlight.....

I realize, and itemize, and etc.

Congrats LCpl. Miller, on the safe tour and return home.

Here's to Saїd, Johnson, and LBS.

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montana




utah











"It pulls harder than gravity..."

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Well Lucky, Lucky, Lucky, Lucky Me, Again! (I Hardly Knew, I Should Use My Feet Again)...

Brian invited me down to Zion's along with a few friends last Saturday. We did a canyoneering route down Birch Hollow into Orderville, followed by an exit through the Narrows:

I'll go ahead and be honest... I'm hooked on canyoneering. Hooked on it like a drug that only leads you to check web pages such as this and this everyday. The good news is, I now have an incentive to go back to Austria. Ich will Schluchter sein... Who's with me?!

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In other news, I put my Toyota "Taco" through a hell of a drive yesterday. The Willard Basin road from Mantua to the base of Willard Peak is the slowest and roughest 8 miles I've ever driven. But it's nice to have the cake-walk summit baggin' at the end. Doesn't my "Taco" just look so pleased to have made the trip? It's almost, as if, she was always meant to do this sort of thing:

I got maybe too close to the goats on Willard Peak, but it allowed me to get some decent close-ups. Ben Lomond, a mile ridge hike away, was crowded at top, but it had that nice view. And I made a new friend, Mike the Sea-bee, along the way. End of story: I've now bagged 7 of 33 peaks this year. Yes, that's way behind schedule. But unless Laura can find away for me to join her in Yellowstone, I'll be doing a 3-day 9 peak route through southern Utah from August 10th thru 12th. Those are, of course, the days following the lake house in Montana/Glacier. That's only a week away and I'm so excited.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

"Look at the Trees; Look at My Face; Look at a Place, Far Away from Here..."


Wouldn't it be nice if we could only, "pull the tricks out of our sleeves"?

I arrived back at Luck Spring after the big run...

Despite Zsa Zsa's 2 a.m. efforts to update me on J-Mill's flight details, and due to my apparent weakness to verbally confirm important facts--while still sleeping--I found myself groggily starring down the flight board at the park-and-wait. What had seemed to only be a dream was a reality, and in fact, the flight landed at 11:17 a.m--not 6. Not aware of that single detail, I analyzed the lonely flight arrival on the board and wondered, "would a flight from Lima connect in Cedar City"?

After a quick phone call with my dear sweet Zsa Zsa to confirm, I realized that five hours of an expectedly busy day were lost. I'd have to cancel on J-heff's and my hiking trip, and I'd miss the Alpine 6th Tigers' annual 4th of July breakfast feast. Frustrated with "life" ever-gradually being overshadowed by "work" in the bosses' so called "work-life balance", and in this particular week that being ever such the case, I eagerly looked forward toward a spur-of-the-moment Plan B: the big run.

The big run had been my target since March. It looked like a beautiful run with a perfect climb and a gradual decent. It wouldn't, however, result in being the longest distance I've ever run... that run was done with brand new running shoes and in the long, hot American Fork Canyon on Memorial Day, and that run resulted in a limping, ankle bleeding, and nearly weeping Thomas, straggling out of the canyon’s last mile exit to my truck. My ego was injured as well, as it was, after all, Memorial Day, and of course, there were plenty of cars full of patriotic locals in que to enter the mouth of the canyon, to observe me, pathetiquely (i.e. groaning and moaning) finishing the longest run of my life. I swore that day I would never run again.

Ach, but conditions were perfect! On this day I couldn’t miss the opportunity. I had ample time before J-Mill’s arrival, those new running shoes were finally broken-in, and it was still early and cool enough, yet just at sunrise, to see that fresh morning light hitting the Oquirrh’s. On this particular run, you see, I’d find myself skirting the base of Mt. Olympus with a glorious view of the entire valley—and the formidable Oquirrh’s across the way. So I ran, I saw, and I conquered... My senses and my body demanded it, and I gave in. In repayment, my body granted me a kind favor: no aches, no bleeding, and no tears... J

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But I still hate running and I didn't even run a full Marathon. “Why run when you’re not chasing a soccer ball?”, I argue. I swear it's not healthy for one's body to run more that 11 or 12 miles... I even know someone who runs Ultra-marathons--that's 2 Marathons, at once! As much as I admire her, no one has enough endorphins to enjoy that torture.

Eventhough you're only casually reading this blog posting, I already know what you're about to say... You want to say, "but what does the Journal of Endocrinology have to say about this?" Well, fine, here you have it: (but don't blame me if you don't like what you read)

Joe's Endocrinology?

Running is like taking time out of your Saturday morning to go play Frisbee. That is the ultimate way to waste your time and have nothing to show for it but a lower semen count. (no offense, BYU Freshman class of 2001).

Granted, it’s done my body good. Running’s done that, as has chocolate milk (do you realize how much protein is in choco milk?)… In addition, Emmitt’s troubled looks ease week by week as I’m able to give just a little more endurance on the field. Yet, Goldman’s indoor team still loses... But really, it’s not bad for a bunch of busy bankers.

If the added running hasn’t helped the Goldman indoor team enough, at least I could keep up with the Goldman cycling team. Learning that one can ride another’s drift (yeah, like in NASCAR), I was able to stick with the team for the full ride, and quite possibly have one of the most fun rides of my life at the Harmon’s Best Dam Bike Ride. Thanks for your contributions towards MS research, everyone.

Below is my promised “look” in spandex-esque:

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It’s finally been a good summer, what with all the running, kicking, and biking. But the good summer had come almost too late. With the long wet spring and half-summer, I thought I wouldn’t’ve achieved my bigger goal. But after a fantastic hike to Cardwell over the weekend, I’ve found myself re-energized and excited to complete the rest.

…and then there’s Orderville this Saturday, Willard and Ben Lomond next week, Montana/Glacier/Canada in August, Modest Mouse, Phoenix, Placebo (all in concert, all in SLC), and the big grad school apps in September. Life’s outlook shines golden, right now.

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“Because Nobody Knows Ya, and Nobody Gives A Damn Anyway”