Barcelona

Barcelona and the Mediterranean are spread out behind me

After three days in Barcelona we have failed in our search for a bad meal; can’t even find a mediocre one.  In fact, every bite of every meal is excellent.  And the red wine is superb as well as cheap.  Spain may have 25% unemployment and an economy that is ready to collapse but you couldn’t tell it from all the locals we meet.  They are uniformly polite, helpful and friendly.  The streets are clean, the traffic and pedestrians are well-mannered and the subway system is outstanding.  It is easy to get around the city.  We love the shop windows and ubiquitous street entertainers.  The streets are full of beautiful, dark eyed Spanish girls flaunting their gorgeous long legs with short skirts.  Babe informed me of that fact because now that I am married I, of course, didn’t notice.  Welcome to Spain.

One of the many entertainers frequenting the streets

I had visited here a year ago for work and fell in love with this vibrant city located on the shores of the Mediterranean.  Unfortunately, all three of the guys I traveled with then had their pockets picked so we are on guard and have no problems.  That is the only downside of Spain: they have a petty theft problem that is undoubtedly exacerbated by the poor economy.  That, and the fact that seemingly everyone smokes.  Although smoking is banned inside most buildings, you encounter it everywhere; whether having a bite to eat at a sidewalk bistro or just walking down the street.  The cost to their health care system must be significant.

Casa Batlló

Like most of our travels, our trip to Spain was meticulously planned.  Three weeks before the trip I bought plane tickets to/from Barcelona.  Four days before leaving I rented a car.  The day before we caught our flight from San Francisco we reserved a hotel room for our first night.  That’s it.  No agenda, no additional planning other than we brought climbing equipment and checked the 10-day weather forecast.  Life is short and best lived on edge.  It is nice to have found a partner that flows so easily with that style.

Storefront window, typical of the main boulevard La Ramba

Unlike most of my overseas travel locations the past few years (Egypt, Zambia, Botswana, South Africa, Zimbabwe), we are surrounded by American tourists.  Even Canada seemed to have far fewer Americans running around.  The Spaniards make it easy by including English on most signage, while I am making every effort to speak Spanish.  Either way, it is a piece of cake to communicate.

Barcelona features the incredible genius of the famed architect Antoni Gaudi.  His unique creations reflect a modernistic approach to design fused with his intense Catholic beliefs.  They are stunning, fascinating, fun and hugely influential throughout Barcelona and Spain (if not the world).  Gaudi’s gothic inspiration coupled with his unique use of light, profound attention to detail, immense practicality and innate environmental sensitivity are unparalleled.

A day in the park

La Sagrada Familia

La Sagrada Familia (The Holy Family), the large church in the center of the city is probably his most famous work.  His vision for that work, which seems to tell the whole story of the Bible in its statues and shapes, is still being constructed today as they work to complete the church.  It is a magnificent building but not our favorite.  We particularly love the immense Parc Güell and spend most of a day wandering through the park, marveling at every detail.  Casa Batlló is another of our favorites.  Not to be missed if you visit this remarkable city.

La Sagrada Familia renovation

Parc Güel.  Notice the attention to detail on next photo

Beautiful, highly functional railing/bench/gutter goes on for several hundred yards

Dali's Lady Godiva

Dali humor

I am a sucker for art of all kinds, so we spend a day at a museum devoted exclusively to the works of Salvador Dali.  Thanks to a mother that made sure her children grew up with an appreciation of art, Babe is a willing companion and equally appreciates the mastery we encounter.  At one point we find ourselves alone for an extended period in a darkened room that contains a number of Dali sculptures.  You can probably guess what happens next....  Spend 10 minutes with his work and there is no doubt Dali would have approved.  His erotic and fantastic images are some of my favorite.

Dinner plate emphasizes Dali's work in numerous media

Walking the streets of Barcelona for three days it is hard to imagine a more beautiful city. We are sad to leave it.

Elegant pharmacy

Married

Patriot jet team celebrating our marriage

I’m sitting next to Babe on an airplane listening to jazz: Forever by Chick Corea, Stanley Clark and Lenny White.  It is an excellent CD.  We are on the way to Barcelona for a few weeks of climbing in Spain and Sardinia.  Although I swore two years ago that I would never get married again, we are on our honeymoon.  Babe and I tied the knot last Friday night in Nevada where we spent three days at the Reno Air Races.  In attendance were my oldest son Colin and Lori’s sister Toni.  It took a total of 55 minutes from the time the limousine picked the four of us up at the hotel until we were dropped back off.  That included a stop to pick up our marriage license at the Court House that is open until midnight 365 days a year.  We had a nice little ceremony actually, with very friendly people at one of the many marriage establishments on the strip.  All marriage ceremonies should be so short.

Take me to the altar Elvis

Babe was stunning in her wedding dress provided by our good friend Gurs (Sangeet) Khalsa who owns Island Importers.  His company specializes in mail order wedding clothes made in Bali.  They are managed by another good friend and our neighbor Narayan who measured us and made sure everything arrived on time.  I was, of course, absolutely splendid in my linen suit that Gurs provided as well.  Only a few weeks earlier Gurs was frantically pounding on our door late at night as water from my condo flooded his business and inventory below after I left the water running in my stopped-up kitchen sink.  That he was there at all is somewhat of a miracle since he lives 30 miles away and rarely visits the business that late.  Fortunately, he caught it just in time and all the clothes were poly-bagged.  We spent the rest of the evening mopping up and drinking whiskey.

And under that dress she is wearing exactly: nothing.

Some of my friends have wondered out loud why I am getting married again.  Babe and I have been together exclusively for nearly three years and there was absolutely no pressure by either of us to formalize our relationship.  We were both divorced after 24 years of marriage; her divorce as nasty as they get, mine much more civil.  Certainly, I feel like I’ve met the perfect partner. In the words of Rumi, “Lovers don't finally meet somewhere.  They're in each other all along.”  That is so true in our case; Babe feels like the female version of me in many ways.

The Urban Dictionary defines Lori (her real name) as, “The most wonderful person in the world. Kind, sweet, beautiful, smart, funny, loving, caring, gentle, perfect in every way. The one you love for all your life. Crazy hot girl, Lori possesses attributes absent in 99.9% of women: truly a lucky find.”   That pretty much sums up how I feel about her, but none of that is reason enough to get married at our age with all five of our sons on their own or off to college.

Always the perfectionist, Babe had purchased the online book Blow by Blow (www.blowtips.com) that promised “Expert Tips on How to Give Mind-Blowing Blow Jobs”.  Seriously, how do you not fall in love with a woman that buys and studies a book like that, quizzes me endlessly on the subject and believes the key to success is practice, practice, practice?  (Turns out the book is full of great, practical advice and should probably be required reading for young wives).  Still, not enough of a reason to tie the knot.

Mr. and Mrs. Bowman

"We'll take the $211 package"

My parents just celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary, my grandparents made it past their 50th before the death of my grandfather, and my brothers and sister are still happily married to their first spouses; all at least 20 years later.  I do admit to being a little envious of them, as I don’t like failing at anything.   I have no doubt Babe and I will be together until one of us dies, a feeling I have never had before.

But the primary reason for getting married is financial. Babe came out of her marriage over $75,000 in debt, under water on her mortgage and with no assets besides the clothes on her back and a 10-year old used car.  Whatever my ex-wife thinks about me, the one thing I know for sure is that her financial security is guaranteed for life.  Babe, on the other hand, can’t afford medical insurance and spends most of her free cash paying off her middle son’s student loan and helping her youngest son go to college.  Her far flung and estranged nuclear family is the polar opposite of my extremely close knit extended family; epitomized by the fact that her oldest son still won’t let her see her only grandchild.   The fact is that if I died tomorrow Babe would be out on the street well below the poverty line.  Given my penchant for high risk adventure, I just couldn’t live with that possibility.

Realizing that also caused me to reflect on the fact that some of our gay friends are in the same boat but don’t have the option of getting married.  That is simply not fair, compassionate or sensible.   It confounds me that we continue to discriminate against people because of their sexual orientation in this day and age. 

Staying in Reno we are bombarded by political ads every time we turn on the TV.  Nevada is one of the battleground states this election and both sides are spewing bullshit at every opportunity.  I subscribe to Isaac Asimov’s theory that anyone who wants to run for political office shouldn’t be allowed to; the qualified should be dragged kicking and screaming into office to serve.  Kind of like the draft or jury selection.   But after throwing my vote away for years on the Libertarian Party, I now cast my independent vote on the lesser of two evils between the major party candidates.

Sign of the times

Like most people I was hoping Obama would pull our country together.   That hasn’t happened, and I am not happy with his plans to redistribute wealth by increasing the tax burden on high wage earners (although they should not be allowed to scam the system either).   As someone who has worked extensively with federal bureaucrats, I also don’t want the government running anything but essential social services.  The lack of accountability in the federal bureaucracy drives me crazy.  Many of my favorite politicians are Republican: Teddy Roosevelt being at the top of the list.   Obama would do well to take a page from Teddy’s book who pushed through some monumental changes in this country by taking on his own natural constituents when needed.  As a fiscal conservative who believes in a strong military, minimal federal oversight, the right to bear arms and personal freedom, I am a natural for the Republican Party.

But there is no way I can vote for a party that has been hijacked by the Evangelical Christian Right and Tea Party.  A founding principle of this country is the absolute separation between Church and State, something the far right wing in this country would like to change.  History clearly demonstrates that doesn’t work, anywhere.  Pandering to Christian fundamentalists is like funding Muslim extremists, the tact taken by our Saudi “allies”.   I don’t want to live under a government that requires us to be anywhere on the continuum between forcing a mother to have a child she doesn’t want and stoning a woman to death for infidelity.   Is it lost on everyone but me that the poorest, fattest and least educated states in this country are the spiritual epicenter of these hypocritical Christian bigots?  Sound familiar Afghanistan?

Not to mention that the Republicans stranded us in Afghanistan after necessarily striking there following 9/11, and took us to war in Iraq on false pretenses; resulting in the loss of thousands of American lives and destabilization of the whole world.  I much prefer Obama’s strategy of hunting down and killing with minimal collateral damage the actual terrorists who threaten our country.   And although I am about as far from a Socialist as you can get, unfettered Capitalism as currently preached by Romney doesn’t work either.  Greed inevitably gets in the way, and a small minority reaps enormous profits off the suffering of the majority.  Witness the fucked up mess Obama inherited from Bush.

As for the Tea Party, give me a break.  Anyone who has run a company, never mind a country, knows complex problems are only solved by intelligent people working together to forge solutions that are invariably rooted in compromises taking into account the diverse needs and best interests of all the stakeholders.   Today’s partisan politics, spearheaded by the Tea Party, allow for no such solutions on the complex issues that threaten our society like immigration, global competition, health care for an aging population, the environment, energy and over-population.  So this Bandito is voting for Obama, reluctantly.

Babe and I spent my 60th birthday, September 10th (the last normal day), with my parents in Seattle.  I thanked them for having me and learned that my birth had only cost them $150.   Talk about the deal of the century!  My Dad was in the Air Force at the time and had just flown 52 bombing missions in a B-29 over Korea which is why they got such a great price.  Babe completely stunned me two days later with a surprise birthday in Ashland where we stopped briefly to drop off our camping gear and rented Ford Explorer.  I was completely floored. It brought tears to my eyes when I answered the door and my parents walked in having driven down the day before from Seattle.   It was a great night with many of our good friends who took the time to come party with us on a Wednesday night. Thank you!

Life is risky

Sixty is enough of a milestone to make me pause and reflect on my life.  My attitude toward it is best summed up by the following Chinese proverb:

Life is risky; we are all acrobats
Tiptoeing over one bridge or another
To a tightrope walker
The rope is just like home
Having lived life at full tilt, I could die today with little regret despite my countless and continuing mistakes.  I’ve learned, to my chagrin, that mistakes are an inevitable consequence of being human; not making them means not trying.   But the most important thing I have learned is how lucky I am to be alive: an incredible gift.  Life is so short and I feel blessed every day to experience the miracle and diversity of it.  The older I get the more I value my relationships with other people.  With age has come the ability to look beyond most of my prejudices, and I am invariably amazed by the special talent that virtually every person possesses whenever I take the time to get to know them.  That doesn’t mean that I suffer fools gladly.

F-18 showing off

The other major thing I’ve learned is that most of the crap that bothered me over the years just didn’t matter in the long run.  The older I get the less I seem to need.  Happiness comes from hanging out with friends, solving the puzzle of a rock face, standing in a stream with a fishing pole in hand, hauling ass down snow covered slopes, surfing a wave in my kayak on a pristine river, and having sex with my lascivious wife.  Life has become a pursuit of the unexpected while learning to cherish simple pleasures.

"I'll take one of these please"

Reno has a desperate feeling to it.   The streets are empty.  Those we encounter at our hotel the Silver Legacy are invariably old, out of shape and sallow.  Not the most vital of us for sure.  There is a whitewater park running through the center of town that is quite nice which I hope to visit next spring, but Reno is a town that is down on its luck.

Cockpit of vintage Stearman

The air races, on the other hand, are fabulous.  While standing in line for the toilet I encounter a one-armed man smoking a cigar.   He lost his arm at these same races last year when one of the racers lost control and crashed into the crowd, killing 11 and severely wounding 58 others.  I talk with another guy who served as an EMT at that disaster.  It shook him to the core and required extensive time away from his job to begin healing.  Neither of them would think of being anywhere else a year later other than watching highly modified planes scream around pylons on edge at 500 mph, 50 feet off the ground.

Sitting in the vintage Stearman

Babe and I both delight at the beautiful vintage planes and state-of-the-art military jets (F-18’s & F-22’s).  The aerobatic performers and precision air teams all rock, and the awesome power and noise of an F-18 screaming down the runway a few feet off the ground at mach .94 brings a shout of pure joy.  Watching one of the aerobatic pilots flutter upside down to the ground with his engine purposely shut down floods me with memories of my own near misses including an engine failure in my Cessna T-210 when I was 9,000 feet over Rochester, NY.  Good stuff, especially when you live through it.

Sitting on this plane, however, is getting old.  I will be glad when we land in Barcelona in a few hours.

Canada

Typical killer view in the Canadian Rockies

We are laying on the hood of the Explorer, several miles up a dirt road about an hour out of Jasper, Alberta looking at the stars.  They are, simply, incredible.  Jasper claims to have the darkest skies on the continent and it is a crystal clear night; no fog, smoke or pollution of any kind and the waning moon won’t be up for hours.  The sky is so clear that the reflection from the satellites makes them seem close enough to shoot down with my shotgun.  Peering through the binoculars at the Milky Way, it looks like there are a thousand holes poking through the sky.  Whether these are the darkest skies on earth or hype drummed up by the Jasper Chamber of Commerce is debatable.  But there is no denying the brilliance of the sky above us.

Glacial scouring with large boulder deposits

The Canadian Rockies are an endless chain of forbidding peaks still covered with large glaciers.  They are connected by vast valleys created by these same glaciers centuries earlier.  Glacially fed, mountain lakes inundate the landscape; every one seemingly more beautiful than the last.

Ho hum.  Just another perfect day in paradise

Catch & eat

 The day started with a decade’s old Bruce (my grandfather) fishing tradition known as “catch and eat”.  Rainbow trout for breakfast, cooked over the camping stove at our tent site in Banff National Park.  Tired of catching and releasing everything, I kept a 14” one from the night before after another stellar day in the Canadian Rockies.   

Start of hike into Lake Minnewanka inlet

Babe and I had hiked into the inlet of Lake Minnewanka to do some stream fishing.  We found ourselves off the beaten path, walking down a side trail with bear spray actually out and in-hand.  The area was closed to parties of fewer than four people because grizzlies were chowing down on the abundant buffaloberries, so the two of us were on full alert and constantly making noise.  The juicy red berries were everywhere and it was hard to hear because of the nearby stream, so the possibility of a surprise encounter was real.  In the words of the Canadian Park Service, “Bear spray can be effective with some bears when used properly.”  Now that's reassuring.  I feel vulnerable without a weapon.

It is impossible to go anywhere in this part of the world without seeing bear warnings.  Of course, everyone is hoping like hell to see a bear because bears are very cool.  As a result, many tourists respond in the most inappropriate ways when they do see one.  I have watched several people casually strolling 10 meters from large grizzlies while piling on top of each other to get a photo.  Fortunately, most bears are intelligent and easy going creatures that seem to understand when they aren’t being threatened.  But I have watched a bear in Yosemite tear the hard top off of an SUV like it was opening a tuna can to get at a cooler inside, and another tree a New Jersey couple on their honeymoon.  These beautiful creatures are powerful, dangerous animals that demand respect for those wanting to avoid the Darwin principle.

"Here bear, here bear".  "She tastes better than me bear"

We have seen several bears this year, numerous grizzlies and black bears.  Yesterday we pulled over for some stream fishing.  While assembling our gear for the hike in, Babe called out “BEAR”.  I thought she was kidding until I turned around to see a large black bear standing right there, unafraid of human contact.  Grizzlies are at the top of the food chain and not afraid of anything, but black bears normally run from human contact.  These habituated bears are the dangerous ones, so we piled into the Explorer post-haste and went somewhere else to fish. 

"Get your ass over here"

That same day we saw a caribou (a rare sighting), and two huge bull elk at dusk.  Both of the bulls carried massive 12-point racks.  The larger of the two marshaled a harem of 17 cows whereas the other had to make do with 3-4.  It is mating season so these bad boys are faced with the need to service all of them.  Impressive, especially since I can barely keep up with my one woman who always seems to be in heat.  After watching the elk for an hour we drive down a small, dirt road.  We see a wolf loping alongside us for a few seconds at the edge of a clearing before disappearing into the forest like a ghost.  It’s large size and long legs are unmistakable; the first wolf I have ever seen in the wild.  It is too dark to determine if it was alone or part of a pack, but given its proximity to the elk herd the likelihood is that it was with a pack on the hunt.  The reintroduction of wolves into the US is controversial, to say the least, given the fact they are bloodthirsty killers.  Wolves are killing machines and most of my relatives living in Northern Idaho are against reintroducing them to the States.  But they seem to coexist just fine across the border in Canada, and it is a thrill to see one. 

"Small" 6-point bull elk

Our campground in Banff

Banff was fabulous.  We eat the best meal I have had in years at a bistro and wine lounge called the Sage.  It is rare to have a meal where you savor every bite.  Ashland, the town where we live, is known for its restaurants.  But the reality is that most serve only well-prepared, pedestrian fare.  In my five years there I have had only two exquisite meals, one at the Peerless and another at Cucina Biazza.  The fare at Agave is consistently excellent, but not the gourmet caliber we experience at the Sage.  

Note engine on top and rest of train below spiraling thru tunnels

On the way to Lake Louise we detour a bit to eat at the renowned Truffle Pig in Fields.  Like at the Sage, the meal is prepared by a chef who takes great pride in his artistry.  Fields is a historically important railroad town and we marvel at a very long freight train winding its way through the engineering feat known as the Spiral Tunnels.  We see the engines emerge from the second tunnel as the middle of the train enters the first tunnel a mile back.  Keeping these tracks operational throughout the winter in this vast, rugged wilderness is no easy feat even today.

View from the lodge at Lake Louise

The road to Jasper from Banff is hyped as the “most beautiful drive in the world.”  Somewhat akin to anointing the “most beautiful woman” in the world, that is surely a matter of taste.  As we learn a few days later, Highway 99/97 from Kamloops to Whistler is also fabulous.  But this 130 mile drive to Jasper is like the Sports Illustrated Swimwear edition; every page is sumptuous as it winds through a landscape that constantly has us both muttering “WOW”.  It takes us all day to cover a distance that I could easily cover in under two hours in the Audi.  We stop at every pullout.  At one of them we hike off into the wilderness for about an hour where we power down and soak in our surroundings.  The incredible, rugged vistas are rivaled only by the clean air, lack of human sounds and fresh, moist evergreen smell that invigorates your soul.  Sitting there, I have never felt more alive or at peace.  Drive this road at least once in your life.

Along the road to Jasper

Babe and I instantly fall in love with Jasper.  Of all the great places we have visited during our journeys, this is the place where we would both consider moving.   First and foremost, it is in Canada.  Don’t make the mistake of thinking that Canada is just an extension of the US, although Canada reminds Babe and me of the rural States in our youth.  It is not over-merchandized, the pace is thoughtful instead of frenetic, there is space between places and life there puts more value on simple pleasures.  All of the cities are stellar, and the towns are great.  Canadians are universally nice and laid back; quieter than Americans or Europeans.  Their self-deprecating and irreverent sense of humor is refreshing and fun.  We love that British Columbia thumbed their noses at the French Canadian initiative to require two languages on every piece of printed material by choosing to add an obscure Indian language that no one uses.  The Canadian show Trailer Park Boys is my favorite sitcom and reflects the country’s exquisite wit.

The northern environment ultimately self-selects for people who prefer the winter season since they get about nine months of it.  It is no accident that Canadians invented and dominate my favorite spectator sport, ice hockey.  People there spend their free time outdoors and the country’s recreational facilities reflect that fact.  Most of the campgrounds feature flush toilets, showers and hot water.  Although it costs $8 CA for a fire permit, they supply all the firewood you could want. 

If I was President of the Unites States one of my first acts would be to invade Canada to secure a recreational paradise.  A squad of cheerleaders armed with BB guns should be enough to accomplish the task.  Once under our control, I would not allow them to change anything, ever.  In return, I would give them access to cheap food and gas as both are wicked expensive there (one reason you see few fat Canadians).  I have taken numerous climbing, skiing and camping vacations to Canada; it can't be beat.

"Tinder, kindling, wood, blow"

Babe is learning how to camp, proving to be an adept student.  But I have to laugh watching her try to build a campfire by squirting fire paste on top of a large log.  Predictably, it all burns off without igniting anything.  The next morning I teach her how to light a campfire; tinder, kindling, wood and blow to get it started.  I have had to light fires in the worst of conditions in order to provide a degree of comfort during a miserable night caught out in the elements.  The best fire I ever built was in pouring rain after Stan Mish, our friend Paul and I got rained off the South Face of Mt. Moran in Yosemite.  After several days of continuous rain we had decided to go for it after a break in the weather.  Sleeping in our down jackets at the base of the climb, we got up early and made it about 1,000 feet up before getting hammered by a big storm.  We carried no bivouac or protective gear, so we were forced to rappel off the sheer wall at night without headlamps.  Our ropes were so wet with no friction that we often slipped 20 feet or more before regaining control.  At one point, feeling around for an anchor on a nearly blank section of wall, I was forced to rappel off a single, soft-iron piton and then go off-rope while dangling from the end with one hand in order to reach a ledge with the other.  The terrain when we got down was a steep, cliff line so we had to wait for daybreak to move.  With only a single match, I built a fire under a large downed tree using moss for tinder, twigs for kindling and dead branches underneath the tree for wood.  After a miserable night we hiked out several miles the next morning, and then drove back to Flagstaff after downing some Ecstasy to spice up the ride home.  Kids!

Lake Maligne

In search of the perfect pool

Just outside of Jasper we spend the day at Lake Maligne fishing for rainbow trout surrounded by the relentlessly beautiful landscape.  I have caught so many trout on this trip that I quit counting.  Babe has caught a few, enough to wet her appetite, but she is still learning the art of catching trout on a fly rod.  It is a learned skill to understand where the trout are likely to hang out and to then present the correct fly in just the right way so that it floats irresistibly by their noses.  Let them see you and they won’t touch it.  I was lucky to learn the craft as a kid from my grandfather who was a farmer in Northern Idaho.  He was an excellent fisherman who survived for years when my mom was young on what he was able to catch or shoot.  I am trying to pass that knowledge on to Babe who is an eager disciple.  There is nothing quite like watching a fish explode out of the depths to attack your fly.  Kinda primordial.  Today we are catching 10” rainbows, too small to keep but fighting machines nevertheless.  They hit my fly with a vengeance and leap out of the water several times before I get them to shore and release them back into the water.  Sadly, neither of my sons appears interested in the sport.

Mt. Robson

More incredible scenery awaits us during the long drive from Jasper to Whistler where we spend the night before heading south to climb at Squamish.  There are few vehicles on the road once we leave Kamloops and the route rivals the road to Jasper for rugged beauty.  Whistler is the quintessential tourist town, tastefully done, with some of the best skiing and mountain biking on the planet.  It is full up when we arrive with 8,000 cyclists competing in a road race.  The next morning we head to one of my favorite climbing walls, the Squamish Chief.  John Harlin and I had climbed the mega-classic Grand Wall there a few years earlier.  It is over 1,000 feet of sustained, excellent and diverse wall climbing.  Unfortunately, the weather was pissing rain for the first time in weeks and the forecast was for two more days of the same.  So we sample the excellent bouldering at the base of the Chief.  Hanging out with the friendly, local bouldering community it feels like we are in a secret society living in the midst of an enchanted forest.  Beautiful place, great climbing.

Canada: vacation paradise

We decide to head south to Seattle.  It seems like yesterday that we arrived in Canada and we are sorry to leave it.  Logging in to email for the first time in days, I receive some bad but not unexpected news: my dog Slugger has finally succumbed to cancer.  The friendliest dog I have ever known, he was happy and pain free until the end.  It is a hard loss, and it is impossible for me to write about him without tears running down my cheeks.  He had a wonderful, loving spirit that accepted everyone as his friend.  Most humans would do well to emulate the love and affection he extended to all that he met.  Whenever we moved as a family, Slugger would be the first one to make friends with everyone in the neighborhood.  He will be sorely missed.

Slugger guarding the neighborhood