Oct
18
2008
Yesterday, while driving to the “Wallace Compound” I spied, high in the air, a flock of Sand Hill Cranes. They are heading south very early this year. I suspect this means that it will be a very cold fall hunting season. Normally, they begin to head south around September 7th. Once they fly over you can count on the Northern Lights to flicker in the night sky; wisps of white, blue-green, and purples. Sometimes it looks like two children playing with flashlights between the mountain ranges. The beam of light appears drunk from the beauty below, staggering this way and that with no real rhyme or reason.
Melancholy becomes me.
I sat on a bucket today and talked to my old, dear friend, Cheyenne. He is lame and will not be going out into the bush as my guide horse this year. I light up my best cigar, put hay at my feet and spoke to him of our many adventures together – some good, some awesome, some painful.
I recalled with great clarity one particular day that we went to retrieve Dall sheep meat at five in the morning high in the mountains. A Guide and Client (I was a wrangler at this point) could not manage to bring it out the previous day. So, I saddle up Cheyenne and the pack horse, Tec and headed down stream to a ridge where I would climb until the tie off point. Along the way I was admiring the day’s beginning and not paying any attention (silly me) to the task at hand. Cheyenne stopped dead and I almost continued forward over his head. He was snorting and thumping the ground. I looked down to see a steaming pile of bear shit! It looked like someone had killed Boo Berry. It was huge! I immediately pulled out my 44 11 inch barrel hand gun and moved Cheyenne down stream, singing “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” replacing words with my own about my Hero Coke Wallace. (It gave me courage). We headed down stream double time and came to the apex of the ridge just as the sun hit us. It was warm, spectacular, and one of the greatest moments of my life! Down below were three huge caribou walking up stream. It was like a scene in a movie, all the while music from an emotional soundtrack played in my head. I wished right there and then that my mom, dad, and any girl I would ever date could see me.
Cheyenne, Tec and I enjoyed the morning sun as I pulled out a cigar, lit it up and watched the morning dew upon the alders. It was a moment I will never forget. If I were to die, I would want that scene of the early August morning on my tomb stone. Cheyenne and I talked for some time. The cigar was long enjoyed by the time I stood up (the best I could, my back tighten up.) Tearfully, I hugged his neck long and hard. He isn’t the horse he once was. Nor am I the naive wrangler. He symbolizes greatness and patience. He taught me to trust him. Hell, many, many times I looked to him for guidance in the mountains. He saved my ass many times and I returned the favor. I told him that I loved him – lame or not. To me our friendship will never end.
no comments | tags: alaska, bear, caribou, Cheyenne, cigar, Cranes, Dall Sheep, friendship, Guide, horse, mountains, northern lights, Wrangler
Nov
18
2006
My Friends,
Check out our lost passengers today. It was a wild day at the Air Strip. All of the sudden out of the frozen snow cone of Mountains, sea ice, and volcano’s eye arrived these passengers trying to catch a flight out of McMurdo Station to the South Pole. The Airplane is from the Air National Guard of New York State. It’s an amazing place to experience each day. The beauty arrests my breath, the cold stunts my speech, and the people warm my heart. Unfortunately, it’s too cold to smoke a cigar or my pipe.
I am well, warm, wind burned and sunburned,
Be well and bless,
Mike
* Photo Disclaimer: These “Antarctica photos are by the Author or copied from the common “twisted I drive” within the “intranet network”. The photos were placed on the “twisted I drive” (noted with “tid” in the label) to share and copy for all to enjoy.
no comments | tags: Air National Guard, Antarctica, cigar, Journey, McMurdo, Passengers, Penguins, Pipe, South Pole, Sunburn, Travel
Nov
14
2006
Happy Camper is a class that all personal who wish to travel outside the realm of McMurdo have to go thru. As you know I used to instruct Winter Survival/Camping so I wasn’t that excited to be there. I was worried that I would revert back into my Instructor Mentality and begin to Field Marshall everyone. I fought the urge better than I thought I would. However, I made sure everyone was fed at night, well hydrated, and had a place to sleep comfortably before I went to bed in my “quansi hut”. Which is a snow dome made by shoveling snow into a huge pile, packing it down, and then digging a flat place to sleep inside. I slept great. So well that I got up about 20 minutes before we were picked up and all the camp chores where done. Oh well. I wasn’t the instructor. I was a student that was a slacker in the morning. It was warm enough to smoke but I didn’t have my Pipe or Cigars due to my congestion in my chest/cough. Either way, the whole experience reinforced that I am getting to old to sleep outside in the cold.
no comments | tags: Antarctica, Camp, cigar, Cold, Course, Happy Camper, McMurdo, Pipe, quansi hut, Winter Survival
Sep
20
2006
I first met Sergio Torres, 8 years ago, introduced to him by his cousin whom I met (by happenstance) on the street in Esteli, Nicaragua, Cigar Capital of Nicaragua. We bonded together as the blue smoke of our cigars disappeared into sticky summer air and the empty bottles of beer collected on the small wobbly table before us on that easy feeling afternoon. The story is way to long to explain here. But the long (Churchill) and short (Robusto) of it is that the next day I got a straight razor shave (while smoking a cigar), toured his Uncles Cigar Factories, met the Vice President of Nicaragua (now the President), had dinner with some of the finest cigar rollers alive, and to top it all off, I sang “It’s now or never” to a packed bar. It was by far one of the best days in my life.
Fast forward to February 2006. Enter Seth Pleasant Young and Kelly Pressley, add a couple of lost bags, a detour in Guatemala City, 16 hours of being late and beer at 6:45am until we get picked up by Sergio at the Airport, 4 beers (each) and 2 ” half hours later; Sergio meet Seth and Kelly.
We were there to tour the Factories and Fields of Nicaragua. We had Guaybera’s of several colors as our formal attire, Cigars of different sizes, and loads of beer, rum, and papas fritas.
Sergio is the Nephew of Nester Placensia. Nestro’s cigar factories produce more cigars than any other cigar factory in all of Central America. Also, Nester produces the only Organic Cigar in the world! These Cigars are sure to be a huge hit (they use garlic as a natural pesticide). Sergio’s Family took us all into their homes, factories, fields, and made sure we felt welcome.
Together Sergio, Seth, Kelly, and I toured the Cigar factories, fields, and a bit of the culture. It was a quick trip, with small incidents of frustration however, the large sum was fraternity wrapped like a Double Corona in a meticulously grown Tobacco leaf.
no comments | tags: Blue Smoke, Capital, Churchill, cigar, dinner, Esteli, Factories, Guatemala, Jouney, Nicaragua, Robusto, Tobacco leaf, Tour
Aug
14
2004
With the help of many, I was able to restore a rusted, straight six, ‘81 Jeep Scrambler into The Freedom Vessel: Chariot of Adventure. This Chariot not only moved its occupants through time and space, incredible landscapes, inclement weather and into broad strong friendships, but through the adventure of life.
The Jeep is an extension of my movement and philosophy through life. Confidently open to all the elements it encounters, willing to take the good with the bad, able to fix about almost anything that could go wrong, and most of all, if life got difficult, you could slam it in 4×4, lock in the hubs and hammer the gas through it. Forget the road signs of conformity; I’ll make my own road. Rollin’ on with the eyes of fire lit inside the cow skull, cigar lit, the Dead cranked above the sound of the wind and rain, living each sweet turn of the wheel – wild eyed, smiling, and enjoy in the ride.
no comments | tags: 4x4, Adventure, Chariot, cigar, Freedom, grateful dead, Jeep Scrambler, restore, rusted, skull, straight six, Vessel
Yesterday, while driving to the “Wallace Compound” I spied, high in the air, a flock of Sand Hill Cranes. They are heading south very early this year. I suspect this means that it will be a very cold fall hunting season. Normally, they begin to head south around September 7th. Once they fly over you can count on the Northern Lights to flicker in the night sky; wisps of white, blue-green, and purples. Sometimes it looks like two children playing with flashlights between the mountain ranges. The beam of light appears drunk from the beauty below, staggering this way and that with no real rhyme or reason.
