running | the sawtooths

While I’ve been on the road with my parents,

for a break, it’s been a little unreal, the character of it — the roadrunning, the travels. First, I had to meet them. The opening flight was cancelled, rebooked on Horizon and flew from there to Boise. All in the Saturday hours well before 6am. Driving 100 mph slowed at the frontal approach of the rear end of a state trooper. It did look like a ski rack.

Actually, I’ve never been here before, the Sawtooths. So I was open to see some new things.

From there, straight up the mountain with the family. For an afternoon coursing — and I’d not really skied in years; but I figured I’d get the hang of it again,

quickly. But of course, the issue is that you get the hang of it, but then hurtling down the iced and wheaty fields you forget about some things. Like, braking. Bone shuddering falls. Riding down the mountain on your back. Stuff suddenly sticking out of the snow.

Things like that. So there were bruises and sunburns, torn fabrics and abrasions. But all in the return to the sport. Day two was better. Only two real giant slalom sliding falls | explosive wipedowns. But you’ve got to go to the edge to get to the front of anything, right?

There is something amusing in the notion of skiing some place where there are large sections of the mountains that are, in fact, without snow.

Still there is adventure to be found. Brilliant sunshine, for example. Evanescent sunscreen.

Adventure to be found, appropriately.

Alternate terrains.

Solar effects?

Alien visitors.

Streets so adventuresome that they require flags to cross.

Coupled with instructions of fabulous detail.

Areas for further adventuring.

Monster homes based on Bhutanese warrior palaces.

Or industrial strategies.

Examples of the wood joiners art.

Or the solar clamshell.

Clearly, wherever I am, there’s much to learn. So I’ll keep wandering. I’ll be home on Tuesday night. Since I’m roving, I’ll be off and on, to gathering emails. Text me, or call.

Everyone knows my mobile.

Wishing well, in any wandering —

tsg | roadrunning | the sawtooth range

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