The Hiking Writer

Maybe?

The D needs work, but the O is clicking as expected. 35-10 in the 2nd with Louisville in the Red Zone about to score.

Murray is decent for a Division 2AA school.

UPDATE

Brohm passes for his 3rd TD, and has rushed for 1 as well. 13 for 17, 228 yards.

Score is 42-10 with 5:23 left in the 2nd quarter.

UPDATE

49-10 at halftime. I'm bettig Brohm plays one series in the 3rd and it is Hunter Cantwell time.

UPDATE

Louisville scores again on first play of 2nd half. Brohm to Douglas for 55 YD TD. 56-10.

3 and out, punt and a return for a TD, 63-10 Louisville.

Say Hi to Hunter Cantwell.

 UPDATE

70-10 at the start of the 4th quarter, and they call off the dogs. FINAL 73-10.

The brief rain yesterday has had no effect.

Damn it's hot.

And dry.

Dry and hot, and the trees know it. Most of the poplars and birches are already dropping their leaves because of the drought. Almost a mile and a half into the Red Trail, I realize I won't be taking many pictures today, it is getting to be a little barren. Almost no flowers are blooming and those that are blooming are all yellow and drooping. Daisies and black-eyed-susans and goldenrod all suffering from the lack of rain. A few butterflies have tempted me to take pictures, but they're having none of it, staying high in the trees. Spicebush and Tiger Swallowtails darting to and fro.

As I descend into Mosquito Valley (my pet name) at the halfway point of the trail, the air is getting even more humid. The creek in the valley has long run dry, but the rain yesterday has made it almost misty in this hollow. 95 degrees and almost 95% humidity with a clear hazy sky. August in the Ohio Valley is a delight if you like to sweat.

As the trail flattens, the bugs begin their ear whine and the vegetation draws in close to the trail. But what is normally lush is limply hanging in the air, looking like it might fall to the ground if brushed. The orchard spiders have been busy and I have to wave my trekking poles in front of me to avoid the constant barrage of spider silk. After a few more yards, I spot them.

Ahead, almost exactly at the midpoint of the trail, two strangers are sitting and resting on logs that cross the trail.

As I approach, my mind stops and evaluates. Details start to pop out with each step. They're both white, no shirts, skinhead haircuts a few tats that look vaguely tribal. Camo pants and crappy tennis shoes complete their outfits. Not hikers, just kicking it in the woods. They're solid too, not much fat on either, making me think about the extra pounds I'm carrying and suddenly feeling a little old. I still think like I'm 23, but the creaky knees tell a different story. As I get within a few yards, I'm catching a strange vibe. They're not talking and I smell weed, the almost clove-like tang of the smoke.

What is going on here?

I'm suddenly hyper aware that I'm dressed for a mugging. Trekking poles, Camelbak backpack with water tube protruding. My digital camera is hanging from my shoulder strap where I can reach it quickly. A hiking geek with $500 bucks of equipment in plain sight. All alone. But then again, I probably have about 75 lbs on either of them, and I estimate I'm maybe 4 inches taller. Not exactly a pushover with a bullseye on my back.

I try not to sound nervous as I straddle the logs and move by them "Hey fellas, how's it goin' ?". No answer but I keep moving, putting yards between us. There are dead leaves on the trail as I crunch forward, but no sounds are coming from behind.

Feeling a little surreal in the heat, I don't see much of anything in Mosquito Valley, just the crunch of the leaves and the ever present ear whine of the bugs. As the trail ends and starts up out of the valley, I plod forward with a purpose. I might have a few extra pounds, but this hill is easy and I have my wind. If a smoker were following in this heat, I could leave him in my dust. In a few minutes, I'm 200 feet above the valley floor and have a clear view of the logs where the two skinhead dudes were copping a buzz.

No one to be seen. Vanished like Andy Dufresne, a fart in the wind.

I suspect they are walking counter to my clockwise, since I hear nothing behind me the rest of the way up the valley face. As I emerge onto the fire road that comprises the rest of the trail out, I catch a small shiver. "That was strange", I think to myself and trudge onward in the heat. The poplar and birch tree leaves on the ground crackle as I walk through, speaking volumes about our Summer drought.

Just another hike on the Red Trail in August, with just a small twist

Mosquito Valley, Red Trail, Horine Reservation

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Hi folks, it's been a while, so I thought I'd jot down some of the flotsam and jetsam sloshing around in my head.

I miss Douglas Adams and his genius for the English language. I'm re-reading the 5 book trilogy of The Hitchhicker's Guide for the umpteenth time and I still get the giggles. Truly, he was a miracle.

Michael Vick. What can one say about this that hasn't been said? It occurred to me that he's being treated about as badly as OJ was, and it makes me wonder about our thought process as a culture. Barbaric behavior is barbaric behavior, no matter what species is the focus. Vick enjoyed the life of a dogfighting owner and financier, he will have to pay the dues. The comparison to horses and horse racing to dogs and dog fighting however is to me a huge rationalization and stupid as well. I doubt that any non-racing horses have their legs and mouths duct-taped together to encourage other horses to attack and kill them with impunity. And please, no matter what color you might be, don't make this a racial thing. If you mess with animals in this country, you tread on incredibly liberal and unstable ground. If Mike Vick was a white NFL player, I dare say, he would be just as big a pariah.

I'm giddy about a few upcoming events: 1, the start of U Of L's football season and 2, the start of Dexter Season 2 on Showtime.

Family is where it is at people. Love them, respect them, protect them, they are what life is all about.

New friends are good. Always.

Red River Gorge is Kentucky's treasure. Mammoth Cave is better known, and truly wonderful, the Gorge is a revelation.

100 degrees is not a good number for Farenheit, anywhere, anytime.

Barry Bonds'* home run record needs and deserves an asterisk.

Hot Fuzz is an awesomely funny movie.

Decide for yourself the things that are important to you. I read a story today about a 6th grade teacher that ran a 5 minute section of the movie 300 for his history class. The clip that was shown had no nudity or violence other than silhouettes of battle between a boy and a wolf. The problem was, it got back to parents and they had a fit. What pissed me off was that the parents quoted in the story didn't watch the same clip for themselves, they searched a website called "ChristianAnswers.net" for a synopsis of the film. Therein lies the problem. No matter what your belief, make decisions for yourself based on your experience and don't use the organization of your belief as a lense with which you see the world. I can say with almost 100% certainty, that that lense, no matter how good its intentions, is going to be false.We're getting dumber as a culture, don't let anyone think for you.

I need a new car.

Neither Republicans or Democrats have a candidate I can support thusfar.

Writing a book is the hardest endeavor of my life.

My buddy Chris and his dog Lucy and I went fishing today in Red River Gorge which is about 2 and a half hours from Louisville. We had a blast on a beautiful hot day and I took a few pics for my own enjoyment. I hope you like them as well. Check out the album Red River Gorge Fishing.

And college football begins!

I'm doing a happy dance.

As you may or may not know, I've been working on a novel since Novemeber of 2006. And though I'm close, I've yet to achieve closure on this merciless endeavor.

My mother, with whom I'm very close, anxiously awaits the finished work and wants to read it, even though I've warned her that she might not enjoy it, since the crime thriller/serial killer genre isn't exactly her cup of tea. That being said, we were sitting around the kitchen table this evening and the book came up again in conversation. I again told her (as I always do) that she might not like the book.

Her reply was "Well, so long as there isn't any crunchy sex in it". After nearly coughing up my pancreas from laughter, we came to the realization she meant kinky, not crunchy, but my goodness that was a good laugh for us both.

For the record, the book subject might be disturbing, but outside of a passing mention of "furries" (Google it), there is no crunchy sex. 

Do you enjoy meteor showers? I do. Tonight and tomorrow night features the Perseid meteor shower which is usually the best annual shower.

Check it out if you're up at 1 AM. I'm thinking about taking some pics late tonight or tomorrow. This is supposed to be one of the best years ever. The following quote is from SPACE.com

 "According to the best estimates, in 2007 the Earth is predicted to cut through the densest part of the Perseid stream sometime around 2 a.m. ET on Monday, Aug. 13. That corresponds to 11 p.m. PT on Aug. 12 for those living in the Western United States or Canada.

The interval when the meteors will be falling at their highest rates will likely last several hours or more on either side of these times.

As a result, it is the late-night hours Sunday, on through the first light of dawn Monday that holds the greatest promise of seeing a very fine Perseid display.

The moon, whose bright light almost totally wrecked last year's shower, will have zero impact this year. The moon will be new on Sunday, meaning that there will be no interference from it at all.

Perfect!" 

Hostel is on cable tonight, and I'm just appalled. I don't go for shock films or horror movies in general, but this flick is just over the top.

I thought Saw was interesting and actually had a good, albeit twisted, storyline, but this is just gore for the sake of gore. Revelling in the abuse of the human body seems perverse in the extreme to me. 

I'm very happy that this genre seems to be a short lived phenomenon. I hope the public will ignore future adventures in gore porn, but alas, I doubt they will. 

Horror with a sense of humor like Shaun of the Dead is more my style. 

I'm a Kentucky boy, born and raised, and I have no affiliation with the East Coast, New Jersey, or even New York City. In fact, I've not even visited any of the above locales (well, Boston is my only East Coast visit), and yet I've been to the West coast, and even Brazil, but I have to tip my cap to Bruce Springsteen and his magical ability to deliver the taste of his home in his lyrics.

Tonight, I was listening to Born to Run and I was reminded why I love Mr. Springsteen so much when Meeting Across the River came on. Top it off with the fact that I have a good friend named Eddie and this song hits me in the emotional gut. I just love it. In fact, I'm surprised that this song hasn't been co-opted into a movie. Then again, there are a few that might claim it as such.

Hey, Eddie, can you lend me a few bucks
And tonight can you get us a ride
Gotta make it through the tunnel
Got a meeting with a man on the other side

Hey Eddie, this guy, he's the real thing
So if you want to come along
You gotta promise you won't say anything
'Cause this guy don't dance
And the word's been passed this is our last chance

We gotta stay cool tonight, Eddie
'Cause man, we got ourselves out on that line
And if we blow this one
They ain't gonna be looking for just me this time

And all we gotta do is hold up our end
Here stuff this in your pocket
It'll look like you're carrying a friend
And remember, just don't smile
Change your shirt, 'cause tonight we got style

Well Cherry says she's gonna walk
'Cause she found out I took her radio and hocked it
But Eddie, man, she don't understand
That two grand's practically sitting here in my pocket

And tonight's gonna be everything that I said
And when I walk through that door
I'm just gonna throw that money on the bed
She'll see this time I wasn't just talking
Then I'm gonna go out walking