Being all you can be at Great Clips

Nothing like a haircut to remind me of the passage of time.

I'm going out to lunch today with two very special friends and went to my local Great Clips since I was beginning to look like Shaggy the dog and wanted to make myself presentable. Don't know if you frequent Great Clips, but at my local salon the online wait times have been creeping up over the years. I figured on a Thursday morning I'd be able to log in, head to the salon, and plop into the chair for my semiannual 'above the ears and above the collar' trim. Not so fast buddy. A thirty minute wait was ahead of me. Interestingly, the salon has like 10 chairs but I've only ever seen two or three in use. Oh well, they say that time is money, but not quite sure who's pockets all that green is going into.

Another sign of the times is that I had a different 'stylist' than I've seen before. Not sure if 'stylist' is the right term for what my head of thinning hair really needs. I'm more the 'do the best you can with what I've got' kind of guy and I'm the first to admit there's not as much to work with up there as there once was.

Growing up it seemed like the Marine haircut was the in thing. Now, when I was five or six I had no aspirations to be a Marine though I did like G.I. Joe. Regardless, I'd end up with hair so short you'd need a micrometer to measure it, which as I understand is exactly what they do in the military. Only problem was this was the 60's and long hair (thank you Beatles) was becoming a thang so me walking around like a dwarf recruiting poster didn't enamore me in the eyes of the hip and cool hippies of the day. I tried to make up for it and fit in by wearing stylish bell bottom trousers which worked pretty well except I kept tripping. 

My 'stylist' today was in a talkative mood and for once so was I. Turns out we both have dogs so the thirty seconds it took for my 'above the ears and above the collar' trim flew by. 

I mentioned the passage of time... Ain't none of us getting any younger, that's for sure. How do I know this? Well, I part my hair, what's left, to the left but my 'stylist' had other ideas and insisted on combing the few remaining strands to the right. And we all know how uncomfortable it is to force hair where it does not want to go. So we compromised and I ended up with what looks like a small (very small) mohawk brushed straight ahead. At least I can tell which way the wind blows. Maybe next time I'll remind my 'stylist' of the "to the left" but by the next one of my semiannual visits there may not be anything left to comb. 

So there you are. The hourglass of time passes nowhere more quickly than in a barber (is that even still a thing?) chair. On the bright side, the hair's thinning fast enough that there may soon come a time when I no longer need to answer: "Did you check in online?"  

Is a new (E)Bike in your future?

Usually I get to view major societal shifts only from afar and normally from the comfort of my couch as I watch the evening news. Over the last couple of years one of those shifts has been hitting ( literally, as you'll see) closer to home. 

Downtown Denver, which I only visit occasionally anymore, has already gone through the phenomenon of electric scooters and to a somewhat  smaller degree BikeShare programs. With the scooters its to the point that regular pedestrians actually making the effort to perambulate under their own power are advised to keep their heads up lest they be run over as folks whiz by on equipment provided as part of Denver's "Micromobility Program" through two vendors - Lyft and Lime. Granted, the website for the program has wonderful 'guidelines' on how said scooters and ebikes should be used which I doubt anyone reads and fewer follow (anybody out there seeing scooters NOT exceeding "6 miles per hour"?). With a cap of 2,930 scooters allowed per company you now see scooters almost everywhere and often discarded on trails and in parks and wherever else the battery decides to give up the ghost. The website has info on how to report 'incorrectly' parked scooters and ebikes (ebikes are capped at no more than 600 per company) but as with the old adage that 'no good deed goes unpunished' it places the onus of reporting these miscreant scooters (and e-bikes) on the good-deed-doer through a tedious five step process and then completing an online form. If any of this sounds like bureaucracy, albeit well intentioned, run amuck then you'll understand why in a nutshell I live in suburbia.

As an avid cyclist I frequent bike trails, bike routes, and bike lanes as they meander across the Denver area. Ebikes have been growing in numbers over the years and can be seen anywhere a regular bike is allowed and, increasingly, even in places where 'motorized vehicles' are specifically excluded. For Denver residents you only need to think of Waterton Canyon on the south side of the metro area. In another example of bureaucracy, albeit well intentioned, run amuck, ebikes are technically not allowed on the Canyon's road with the EXCEPTION that:

"Class 1 and 2 e-bikes used as part of an ADA accommodation in Waterton Canyon are permitted on Denver Water’s portion of the path, depending on the size, weight and speed of the device, so long as it wouldn’t cause a safety risk because of crowds or trail conditions (e.g. on a busy day) and so long as the requestor can provide credible assurance that they require an accommodation (emphasis added) to access the facility."

And yes, there is a formal, and required process to gain permission: 

"...those seeking ADA accommodations in Waterton Canyon can contact our Recreation team at recreation@denverwater.org. You will need to be able to provide credible assurance that you require an accommodation to access the facility before arriving." 

I doubt that many, if any of the ebikes one now encounters up the canyon and even farther on the Colorado Trail have bothered to show their need for real accomodation. As the saying goes: easier to beg forgiveness than to ask permission.

To say that local and State governments are struggling on how to manage the growth (and yes, regulation) of scooters and ebikes is an understatement. And in Colorado its about to get much more difficult as the State has announced its ebike rebate program that will give rebates up to $1,400 toward the purchase of 1,000 ebikes every month (emphasis added) starting this month (August). 

I'm admittedly ambivalent about the whole concept of ebikes. For those who are differently abled I think they are a great addition that allows greater access to the outdoors. My first introduction to an ebike was on the Mickelson Trail more than ten years ago when my wife and I were biking up a long grade on our way from Edgemont to Deadwood, South Dakota on one of the premier rails-to-trails routes in the country. Suddenly we heard "On your left!" and saw a blur go flying by. I silently cursed to myself wondering how a motorcycle got on the trail. When we caught up to the husband and wife 'blur' that had whizzed by us we were introduced to not a motorcycle but a motorized (electric) bicycle - our first ebike. The couple explained that, due to health issues, they could no longer pedal regular bikes and needed the electric assist to get them up and over the hills. 

More recently, in fact just last month my wife met another ebike in a far more intimate way. As in CRASH. We were riding one of our favorite trails in the mountains ( the Mineral Belt in Leadville, Colorado) and, as seems to be our wont, were pedaling up the long climb from the parking lot to the trail's high point. There is a section where the trail crosses Land Fill Road (far prettier than the name implies) where you have to watch for vehicles before crossing the road. As we were pedaling up toward the intersection a group of cyclists came whizzing down the trail, across the intersection, and the third of the four cyclists slammed into my wife. What turned out to be an ebiker, a young lady in her sixties, had turned her head to warn her companion behind her that a car was indeed approaching the intersection and to be careful. That turn of the head was a rookie mistake that every cyclist, and apparently e-cyclist (ebiker?) has made - when you turn your head on a bicycle the handlebars tend to turn in the same direction, thus swerving the lady's ebike smack into my wife. 

The impact swept both my wife and the ebiker off the side of the trail with my wife taking the brunt of the impact as they hit the rocky ground. My wife's helmet barely missed a watermelon-sized rock. As the ebiker disentangled herself and lifted her ebike up my wife lay stunned (for all we knew, unconscious) flat on her back with her mountain bike still on top of her. Two of the party of cyclists were retired Doctors (one an ER and the other a Primary Care doc) so we were able to provide quick and responsive care. Fortunately my wife was not injured to the point of needing an ambulance (though later x-rays and a visit to our own doctor revealed the full extent of injuries) so my wife and I were inclined to treat the incident as a typical bike on bike encounter. The lady who had hit my wife was very apologetic and took full responsibility saying she had not even seen my wife before crashing into her. She offered to pay for any bike repairs to my wife's bike. By this time my wife was able to stand and while scraped and bruised didn't think she had been too severely injured and thought she'd be able to get back to our car under her own power. The lady who hit my wife was unscathed as she had landed on my wife rather than on the rocky ground. So, thinking all was well, we went our separate ways.

What's the difference between being hit by a regular bicycle and an ebike you ask? Lets start with weight. The average weight of a standard modern road bike is about 18-20 pounds. Interestingly, for racing bikes the UCI, which governs professional bike racing, requires racing bikes must be a minimum of at least 14.99 pounds which means bike manufacturers actually have to engineer extra weight into their designs as they could produce bikes lighter than this. According to one manufacturer's site the average weight of an e-bike is on average somewhere between 52 to 55 pounds. The difference primarily comes from the weight of the battery and electric motor as well as a beefier, and heavier, frame to accommodate the extra weight. Hearken back to your High School physics class: Momentum equals Mass (weight) times Velocity.

Then there's the motorized aspect. The ebike rider not only has the momentum produced by their own power but also assisted through the electric motor. There are three primary classes of e-bikes (Class 1, 2, and 3) with class 3 ebikes capable of reaching 28 mph before the electric motor stops providing assistance. Its no wonder the couple in the Black Hills were able to fly by us going uphill. 

There's also what I call the novice component to riding an ebike. Granted, some experienced cyclists make the switch from a traditional bike to an ebike but I'd hazard a guess that a fair number of current and future ebike owners are folks who wouldn't be caught dead riding a regular bicycle. Because of this unfamiliarity with cycling they don't necessarily have the learned skills to safely handle a 50 pound bike cruising at 20 plus miles an hour. Even though I ride several thousand miles every year on everything from road to gravel to mountain bikes it would give me pause before I hopped on an ebike and set out merrily on one of my local trails. The lady who hit my wife was honest enough to acknowledge that her ebike was brand new and she was on only her second ride with it. 

My wife's visit to her own doctor uncovered no broken bones although he suspected major internal bruising to the ribs and sternum (the ebike's handlebars directly impacted my wife's sternum). My wife's right ankle was also severely bruised and though extremely sore she could bear weight on it. Bike riding, at least for a couple of weeks, would be out as my wife could not comfortably hold her own handlebars due to the pain in her chest. 

Now, all of this is not an argument against ebikes. It is however a cautionary tale about what the future is likely to hold for all users of multiuse trails and paths and roadways. And it unfortunately raises the question of regulation. My wife's doctor, who has seen a dramatic increase in the number of ebike-related injuries he's treating asked her if we had filed a police accident report. When she said no, he chided her and reminded her that she had been involved in a motor vehicle accident. Would she have reported being hit by a car? A Motorcycle? "Of course" she replied. What was the difference in this instance he queried? Upon further reflection, she had no answer. Quoted in a recent Wall Street Journal article, Kenny Fischer, co-founder of Denver-based FattE-Bikes, tells people its "...not a heavy bike. its a light electric vehicle."

Folks may wrongly assume that bicycles and e-bikes are two sides of the same coin when it comes to safety. Not so according to statistics slowly starting to reveal the contrast. A June 2023 article in Fortune magazine highlighted some of the newest data. While the U.S.'s NTSB (National Transportation Safety Board highlights the “lack of complete, consistent and reliable data” that likely leads to vast underestimations of the actual statistics, their report noted that “fatalities associated with e-bike ridership have also increased exponentially.” And in other countries that have a longer and deeper history with power-assisted bikes better data is emerging. In the bicycling-crazy Netherlands a Dutch study found that e-bike riders were 1.6 times more likely to wind up in the emergency department than riders of regular bikes. What does that mean for the U.S.? Consider that in 2021 608,000 electric cars and trucks were sold in the U.S. By comparison, more than 880,000 e-bikes were purchased. In Europe that year more than 5 million were sold. In the North American market e-bike sales in 2023 are expected to near 1.76 billion dollars; by 2028 that number is forecast to top $4 billion. . 

So one way or another ebikes are in my, and your future. My wife may never own an ebike but she's already literally felt their impact. There's a local law firm who advertises itself  as 'the cyclist's advocate'. I suspect they have no idea how much future business they may see not just defending cyclists who have been hit by vehicles but also going after ebikers who have caused injuries and damage to those around them. 

Will there come a day:

• when ebikes outnumber 'regular' cyclists?
• when people recognize that e-bikes are not the same as traditional bikes and should not be treated as if they were
• when ebikes are allowed everywhere, even where non-motorized vehicles are currently prohibited?
• when 'drivers ed' classes are required for ebikers just as they are for motorcyclists and other motorists?
• when ebikes need to be registered as the motor vehicles they are?
• when ebikers (like other motorized vehicle users) are required to provide proof of insurance when involved in an accident?
• when a police report should be filed anytime an ebike is involved in an accident? (if we had to do it again, this would have happened)
• when ebikes continue to become more powerful further blurring the line between ebike, moped, and motorcycle? (Even Harley Davidson is now offering an electric motorcycle...)
• when I feel like a chump for sweating and grinding my way up a steep incline under the blazing sun while the person to my left cruises by with no real effort at all? Wait... that day is already here....

Oh for the love of... Part two

Meet Misty.

Misty

We know we can't even begin to 'replace' Yukon who we lost two weeks ago but our surviving pet, Mr. Bentley, needs a companion and everyone from vets to friends tells us we have a relatively short window to introduce a new dog into our pack. Mr. Bentley is now ten years old and though in good health we can see the loss of Yukon has hit him just as hard as it did my wife and I. Years ago when we lost our first Husky, Tundra, the surviving one, Chinook, did the same thing as Mr. Bentley is doing now. I call it ghosting. Literally in just two weeks his coat has become noticeably more grey. Ten year old Huskies are normally starting to grey as they age and Mr. Bentley was no exception but he's now a shade lighter than just weeks ago. 

So even though we are still grieving for Yukon, we set about searching for a new pet. The decision would ultimately rest upon Mr. Bentley's approval, as it did ten years ago when we introduced him to Yukon. Chinook and Tundra, our first pair of Huskies, had been rescued through Polaris Husky Rescue in Fort Collins (Polaris seems now to have been absorbed by North Star Siberian Husky Rescue who's website seems not to be maintained or active any longer...) and our second pair, Mr. Bentley and Yukon, had also come to our home through a Husky Rescue so we knew we would be looking through either a Rescue or animal shelter for our next pet. 

Since this decision was primarily about getting Mr. Bentley a companion (Huskies seem to generally do better with another dog to play with and keep them out of trouble!), being able to introduce them in person (in dog?) was critical. Sadly, in my opinion, 'shopping' for a new pet through a rescue seems to have gone the way of all things retail - look online, find what you want, order and it will be delivered. Granted, with the rescues we contacted there is still some vetting of the new owner including reference checks to ensure a good forever home but the in person (in dog?) introduction of the actual dogs seems to have gone by the post-pandemic wayside. 

We also perused the online offerings of the local animal shelters. Pet owners will not be surprised by the massive numbers of dogs and cats ( and hamsters, chickens, rabbits etc.) in animal shelters needing homes which in my mind begs the question of why there are still so many puppy mills and (some) unscrupulous breeders churning out more pets in an already saturated market but suffice it to say there was no way we were going to add to the coffers of businesses (and yes, they are businesses) who's primary concern is turning a dollar.

Ultimately we settled on Foothills Animal Shelter as it is in our neck of the woods (one of the rescues we considered was in Oklahoma and had more than 200 huskies available - and yes, we would have made the trip for the right doggie). We had never been to Foothills Animal Shelter (FAS), though it has been around since 1976, so didn't really know what to expect. Located right off of West 6th Avenue in Golden, Colorado, FAS focuses on several communities from Golden, Wheatridge, and Westminster to Arvada, Lakewood, and Edgewater as well as the greater Jefferson County area. While not technically a no-kill facility FAS does have an impressive record of placing/reuniting pets. In 2022 FAS sheltered 8,978 pets which was up 21% from 2021. 6,033 pets were adopted (up 14%) and 2,022 pets (up 20%) were reunited with their owners. I'm getting these statistics from the FAS 2022 Annual Report which I'm sure most pet owners never look at as they're focused on the micro level of adopting or finding their lost pet. 

I'm all in favor of no-kill shelters but am pragmatic enough to realize that we don't live in a perfect world (which is news to absolutely no one) but I wanted to see how hard FAS was striving to avoid euthanizing animals. There's a somewhat cold sounding statistic called the "Live Release Rate" and Foothills number is 93%. Kudos to Foothills for at least making this number readily visible in their annual report as I could not easily find it for other local municipal shelters. Is 93% a good or bad number? Hard to say, but according to the National Database of Shelter Animal Count:

               data shows that not only are more dogs entering shelters than are leaving, the non-live outcome rate for dogs has nearly doubled (from 5.6% to 10%) when comparing Q1 2021 to Q1 2023. This means nearly twice as many dogs did not leave shelters alive during the first three months of 2023 compared to the same period in 2021.

Another plus in favor of FAS was that they do allow in person (in dog?) meetings between current and potential adoptive pets. Mr. Bentley met with two Huskies up for adoption and he (as well as my wife and I) all agreed that Misty (her shelter name was Jesse, but had only been given that name several weeks prior) was the right fit for us. She is our first female dog and I joke that Mr. Bentley and I are now definitely outnumbered gender-wise but heck, that was already the case when it was Mr. Bentley, Yukon and I as I can confirm that happy spouse does indeed make for a happy house. 

Misty is purportedly 8 years young though she is exhibiting more puppy-like traits than her age would suggest. She is clearly not ready for her canine AARP card. She was picked up in Westminster as a stray and had no collar or microchip and apparently no doggie owners came looking for her. And yes, she is spayed and will not be adding to the out of control pet population. Thankfully she is housebroken and has a gentle and loving personality. Already our hearts are opening to this new bundle of fur. As for Mr. Bentley, he seems accepting of his new canine companion though he is still getting used to her antics. They tell us it will take about a month or so but we're cautiously optimistic as we welcome Misty to her new forever home...

Misty and Mr. Bentley getting acquainted

Oh, for the love of...

Oh, for the love of... Dog. 

The trip down from the mountains was a little speedier than normal. In retirement I've admittedly become one of those dreaded drivers who actually approximates the speed limit. Not that I sit in the left lane pegging the 55 or 65 mph  while watching a line of traffic build up behind me, but I enjoy driving, which is, at least in Colorado not the same thing as enjoying driving FAST. The advantage of retirement is not being under a continual time crunch to be somewhere, ANYWHERE, other than where I actually AM so I have the luxury of being able to enjoy the drive without constantly checking my watch.

Not so last Thursday. Don't think I've ever driven the route from Leadville to Denver as fast as I did that afternoon. With apologies to all the cars and trucks I passed at an exorbitant speed I had SOMEWHERE to be and the normal two hour timeframe for getting there wasn't going to cut it. Amazingly, at least to me, is that as fast as I was going (80 mph at times) other drivers were still routinely passing me. I-70 - Mountain NASCAR - lived up to its reputation.

That SOMEWHERE I was in such a hurry to reach is generally referred to with two simple letters: E and R though on this trip the patient had paws instead of feet. My wife and I had come back from a bike ride to find Yukon, one of our two Siberian Huskies, standing in his kennel, head drooping, looking like he had had a stroke. He was wheezing and having difficulty breathing and we knew immediately something was seriously wrong. There are Vets and a Pet ER in Leadville but we made the decision to rush him down to the vets he normally sees at VRCC in Denver. 

Halfway to Denver Yukon lost control of all his bodily functions. By the time we reached the ER in Englewood they had to lift him onto the gurney. The prognosis was grim. What had been a healthy and exuberant bundle of fur that morning was at death's door suffering from aspiration pneumonia. He had a temperature of 106 degrees, organ failure, and his blood test results did not bode well for recovery. In consultation with the vet and praying that we were doing the right thing, we made the heart-wrenching decision to put our beloved Yukon to sleep. 

I clearly understand that in a world where people are dying needlessly in the hundreds, thousands, and millions from everything from war, famine, mass shootings and gun violence to pandemic, addiction and drunk driving some might question the appropriateness of mourning the passing of an animal when so many of my own kind are leaving life behind. For me it does not need to be an either-or; I can, and do, mourn for both. But candidly, though I've had the delight of canine companionship through all of my life, losing my Yukon has hit especially hard. As I told the vet, this - the decision to pit your pet down - doesn't get any easier though I've now felt the life leave from more pets as I've held them than I care to think about.

For dog lovers, every wet nose and wagging tail is special and unique. Every happy yip and bark brings joy. Joy... a feeling of great pleasure and happiness. Yukon brought so much of it into our lives that I fear the emptiness left behind will never quite be filled. 

Yukon's introduction to Life was not gentle. He was born to a backyard breeder who for whatever reason couldn't place (sell) or simply didn't want this weeks-old ball of fur born with one brown and one blue eye and a brown tinge to his coat and decided to throw him out on the streets of, of all places, Wichita, Kansas to fend for himself. By the time he was rescued he was severely malnourished and underweight and you couldn't blame him for being afraid and skittish around people. But that wasn't Yukon. Despite the cruelty meted out to him as he entered this world, he loved people. Just this 4th of July we were at the holiday parade in Leadville and Yukon reveled in the attention from kids and adults alike as they stopped to pet him and they in turn experienced, if but for a moment, some of the boundless love this dog had to give.

Love is a word that perhaps gets overused. Love between humans is often complicated. Who truly knows what is in another's heart? Love also can be fleeting, you need only look at the divorce statistics to see that people fall in and out of love all the time. There is a purity of Love given by a pet that I have yet to experience with those of my own kind and if I grieve for my Yukon that grief is because that type of Love is so rarely found and I will desperately miss it. If the Love in Yukon's now-still heart could only be forever shared this World would be a better place. 

I often looked into Yukon's eyes and hoped he knew he was loved as much in return by my wife and I. Every breed is special in its own way but if you've ever gazed into the eyes of a Siberian Husky and tried to fathom what you see then your heart and soul has swelled in wonder of what those depths have to share. Dogs are long since removed from their wild forbears but in the one blue and one brown eye of Yukon I could get a glimpse of a world sadly long lost to mankind. They say that not all who wander are lost; in Yukon's gaze I felt at peace, at home, and free to roam.

When we rescued Yukon his name was Blade, a moniker we never felt remotely fit him. Why we settled on the name Yukon is pure serendipity but it was foretelling. Yukon would get to visit his namesake and it was as if he was going home. I'm not overly religious but if there is a Heaven I hope, Yukon, it looks and smells and sounds like the great, wild Northcountry you got to experience in your youth.

Apologies to those who are not pet people for waxing on about the loss of my Yukon. Perhaps if you had ever met and seen him light up with happiness to greet you or been slapped by a tail wagging in pure bliss as you petted his head, you could indulge me in sharing, just for a moment, the love shared between a very, very special dog and one oh so ordinary human being. Yukon - from my still beating but now inconsolable heart, Thank You. May the ground beneath your paws be forever padded in pine needles.

Where to this time...

Wow. Its been four months since my last blog which is as long a gap I've missed since beginning this blog. Originally this blog was started to chronicle my retirement from Pinnacol Assurance and a trip on the Alaska Highway to Fairbanks and points North. Call it writers block or simply having nothing to say (which is totally not like me). Now, having nothing to say is perfectly fine and as the adorable rabbit Thumper, of Bambi fame, would say, if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. 

So how's your Spring been? Here in Colorado its been a wet and cold one until recently. Now the days are starting to warm, though we did have snow over the weekend. In other words, its been perfectly normal. Not so for much of the country which has been dealing with unusual heat, and down in Florida they've had unusual flooding. I think it was Fort Lauderdale that received a month's worth of rain in seven hours and the news showed airliners taxiing through water that was almost up to their jet engines. We were just in Florida, Miami specifically, and fortunately had gorgeous weather. We were there, like thousands of others, to catch a cruise ship to the Caribbean sun and sand. Like I said, Colorado's Spring being normal and all, made some of us yearn for some tropical rays. We hopped aboard the good ship Norwegian Sky to take advantage of one of their early season deals and spend 9 days visiting 6 sun-soaked islands including the Dominican Republic, Puerto Rico, St. Maarten, Antigua, the U.S. Virgin Islands, and the Bahamas. Tough to go wrong  with that.

My young nephew was taking a cruise to the Gulf Coast of Mexico with his girlfriend and her family at about the same time, and while I haven't yet spoken with him about his trip, hope they had as much fun as we did on ours. When we took our last cruise aboard the Royal Clipper sailing ship last Fall on her transAtlantic crossing some of the sailing purists poo-pooed the notion of cruising on the behemoth cruise ships that are more the standard of the industry today. I don't share their sentiment and have no problem enjoying all that a more typical cruise (and cruise ship) have to offer. We've sailed with both Norwegian and Royal Caribbean (as well as Star Clippers) and thoroughly enjoyed being pampered at sea by them. 

Cruising's not pefect and does have its own set of challenges and our recent cruise out of Miami was no exception. Crowded (o.k. - overcrowded) pool decks, lines at the buffets (which we hadn't experienced in the past), an inexplicable scheduling of some entertainment shows into shipboard venues that couldn't accomodate all that wanted to see them (picture folks standing in the aisles because there wasn't enough seating), and the usual disembarkation snafus (you'd think they'd have mastered getting folks off the boat at the end of the cruise as well as they get them on at the beginning) were a couple of nits on our trip. That said, those nits were more than made up for by the wonderful staff and service onboard, the great food (no one ever starves on a cruise ship...), the great shows (even in the sometimes cramped spaces), and all the standard amenites (fitness center and classes, spas, choice of restaurants, casino, duty-free shopping, etc.) cruisers have learned to enjoy. The Norwegian Sky seems to be one of Norwegian's smaller ships in terms of guest capacity (2,000 guests) but she certainly doesn't lack in the fun factor. 

For my wife and I though, its the ports of call that largely determine whether to take a cruise. This trip offered the chance to see some islands we hadn't seen before (Puerto Rico, St. Maarten, the U.S. Virgin Islands, and the Bahamas) and we were excited to experience what these new places had to offer. Cruise companies have the challenge of disgorging thousands of passengers into sometimes quite small islands and ports and figuring out what all those people are supposed to do with their time ashore. The shore excursion staff aboard the ship were as busy as any staff onboard. We had selected and booked our excursions ahead of time and as folks who have cruised before, especially to the Caribbean, know, some of the shore excursions from one island to the next can get a little repetitive. For example, there's almost always a catamaran snorkeling excursion complete with rum punch (and sometimes, if you're lucky, foot massages!). We love to snorkel but sadly with the decline of reefs worldwide the number of good snorkeling sites is diminishing so the chances of seeing a turtle at Turtle Cove (Virgin Islands) seems to be slim though my wife finally spotted one totally unexpected in the Bahamas. 

The trick for passengers is to sort through the myriad shore excursion offerings featuring something  perhaps they haven't seen or done before. For us, two of the islands, St, Maarten and Antigua, set themselves apart on this trip. In St. Maarten we had a chance to sail aboard the Americas Cup yacht Stars and Stripes that Dennis Connor helmed to victory in 1987. And I mean you really get a chance to sail - from 'grinding'  the winches to trimming the sails, and even a short stint at the helm. Everyone aboard had a great time on this excursion and if you're ever on the beautiful island of St. Maarten check out the "12 Meter Regatta" excursion. 

On Antigua, which we had visited before, we signed up for the "Stingray Swim and Snorkel" which involved taking a small boat out to a sandy reef where, yes, you really got up close (touching and feeding close) with stingrays. And not just one or two - the stingrays seem to know when the tours come and they show up by the dozens to be fed squid by the sometimes squeamish snorkelers (as you'll see in the video as my wife makes friends with a companionable and very hungry Hypanus Americanus). Again, not something we had ever done before and for two landlubbers from Colorado one of the highlights of the cruise. When we were last in Antigua we had done the Canopy Zipline tour and we were tempted to repeat but in the end went with the new and unique.

One other note from this cruise that we really enjoyed was having enough time in most ports to not only do a shore excursion in the morning but also having several hours afterwards to simply, and leisurely wander around the port before reboarding the ship. With some of our other cruises its been a rush to get back from the shore excursion in time to get back on board and we never had time to explore the port town. 

Well, I guess my writers block is over at least for the moment so apologies for the length of this blog. Still, it was a great trip, and if you want to see more here's the video of our trip to paradise:

There's a whole lot of S*#% out there...

I'm getting tired of this S*#%. Everywhere I look nowadays its S*#%, S*#%, and more S*#%. And its not just in my neighborhood - there's S*#% from coast to coast. In my neck of the woods the  S*#% is really getting deep. I mean, you're starting to need a shovel to handle all the S*#% out there. How much more of this S*#% are we going to have to put up with? You just can't seem to get away from it. I close my eyes and open them and there it is - S*#% all over the place. I'd cuss at all this S*#% but it's already a four-letter word. 

What's a person to do? Even the newscasters are getting fed up with all the S*#% around us. Heck, it takes up most of the newscast. Enough already. I'm sick and tired of getting dumped on with all this S*#%. The S*#% so deep its going to give me a hernia. Thank God it's New Years. Maybe in 2023 we'll all have to deal with less S*#% than all the nasty 2022 S*#%.

I'm old enough that I've dealt with my share of S*#%. Starting at a young age I quickly realized that too much of anything isn't necessarily good and that's especially true when it comes to S*#%. You deal with a pile of S*#% and before you can say Gesundheit there's more where that came from. Make no mistake, even watered down all this S*#% still makes for a heck of a mess.

Here's my New Years Resolution: come 2023 I'm done with all this S*#%. I'm going to pack it in a box and send it to Florida where, like, they don't have enough S*#%. Maybe it'll help all the palm trees grow. I hear S*#% is as good as fertilizer and Heaven knows, Colorado has plenty to spare. Maybe I can market it on Amazon though shipping S*#% might be a problem. And here's the latest S*#% joke - whats the difference between Southwest Airlines and S*#%? .......S*#% is airborn. 

And if all this S*#% doesn't disappear come Springtime, come on by. My aim's improving and you might get clobbered up side the head with a big 'ole ball of S*#%. 

For those out there who might be offended with all this talk of S*#%, take my advice. Head for the Colorado High Country where they manufacture S*#% by the truckload, strap on your S*#% skis, mortgage your house for a ski ticket, and go make S*#% Angels in all this bleeping S*#%. Best hurry though, they're forecasting another S*#% storm come next week.

Happy S*#%-y New Year.

Of Merriness and Dainty Paws

 HO, HO, HO.  

O.K., that's the last time in this post I'll do my Santa impression. The LOML (Love of My Life) and I took a jaunt to Manitou Springs yesterday because the blizzard that's been socking the rest of the country missed us in Denver completely, it was a beautiful and sunny December day, and because, well, we really enjoy the little town of Manitou Springs ("Oh Little town of Manitou Springs..." -nah, doesn't have the same ring to it). Mind you, a nice day in December - at least this one - is still pretty dern cold. Add in the wind and you can bet your booties (more on booties later) that when we stopped in Palmer Lake to give the pups a nature break we did not embrace the season with a leisurely stroll around said lake. And God love the wind-blown ice fisherman sitting out in the middle of the pond (he wasn't HO, HO, HO'ing either).

HO, HO, HO.

We could have taken the Interstate and gotten to Manitou Springs minutes earlier but what the hay, I'm retired, the wife's retired, and the back road from Sedalia south on State Highway 105 is one of our favorite strips of pavement anywhere in the good 'ole U.S. of A. We've biked  this route too many times to count on the now-defunct Elephant Rock ride and whether you're on a bike or snuggled up in a warm car it takes you through some beautiful countryside out in the you know, country. Out in the country is getting harder and harder to find in my neck of the woods (or more accurately my neck of the prairie) and as we rolled through the still quaint town of Palmer Lake we had only to look around at all the new homes being built to sense that this much-loved drive's days are numbered.

Speaking of numbered days, its the 351th day of the year as I write this. Only 14 rotations of our big globe left in 2022. And what a year its been. Of course, we say that about every year as we bid it adieu. Some years we add "good riddance", other years we'll fondly miss, though those have been as scarce as finding real countryside recently. Speaking of countryside, Highway 105 rolls by some spectacular vistas, some

natural, some man-made. We had to stop and take pictures of the Santa haybales and the red Christmas truck, both of which would brighten even the Grinch's day.

South of Palmer Lake its back onto I-25, that wonderful conveyor belt of humanity creeping along at 15 mph that stretches from Wyoming (and beyond) down to New Mexico and climes not featuring below zero wind chill. Colorado Springs, which is on the way to Manitou Springs, now brags of a rush hour to rival Denver's and our timing was good enough that we were able to partake. HO... nope, not going to do it. Anyway, we eventually arrived in Manitou Springs which is nestled at the base of Pikes Peak. In fact, its from here that you can catch the Broadmoor Manitou & Pikes Peak Railway that will whisk you to the 14,115 ft. summit which as I write this is a balmy 9.8 degrees (Fahrenheit for my Celcius friends in the rest of the world). And yes, the train runs year round but for our trip on this day we had lower, much lower, aspirations.

Merry Whatever...

Manitou Springs is a tourist mecca in warmer weather and as such has joined the growing list of communities that have discovered that visitors will gladly (some less gladly than others) pay for parking. Gotta say, these new parking kiosks do make it far easier to fork over $10 for five hours than the old coin-operated ones that people hated so much. And they even remind you via text when your time is about to expire and I believe you can even add more time without making the long walk back to your vehicle though I did not avail myself of this wonderful convenience on this trip. 

Having worked up an appetite, what with all the driving and freezing, the LOML and I went in search of sustenance that would have to sustain us for the upcoming shopping extravaganza that I knew awaited us. If you are a burger afficionado and have been to Manitou Springs you may have eaten at the Border Burger Bar  which features a seemingly endless array of - wait for it - burgers that are really yummy (I could have gone with delicious but yummy better fits). I had a veggie burger covered in green chile and aioli sauce and gluten free bun with some of the best sweet potato fries anywhere while my LOML indulged in the Alaskan Salmon burger which strangely features a Norwegian salmon fillet but is delicious (yummy) nonetheless. It was all good enough that I could have taken pictures but I was really busy, like, eating.

With tummies full it was time to explore the wonderful world of unique retail that is Manitou Springs. Don't bring your Kohls Cash and their isn't a Target or Walmart within spitting distance but rest assured your money is perfectly good here. I know because the LOML put it to the test almost everywhere in this small town (which all of a sudden wasn't seeming to be so small). But one of the stores offered fudge so it was all good. 

Mr. Bentley sans boots and snow

Our two pups got in the act as well and particularly liked Gigi's Animal Lovers Gift Shop (I'd link it but couldn't find that they have an actual website (!really?) though they get 4 1/2 Stars on Yelp). It was in this particular establishment that our booty tale continues. Our pups are Siberian (or as we like to say - Suburban) Huskies who give the LOML a run for her money in my heart. One is named Yukon and the other is Mr. Bentley (why there is a Mr. in there is a whole 'nother blog) and both compete for the MSCOTFOTP Trophy (Most Spoiled Canine On The Face Of The Planet). They came into our hearts as rescue pups about eight or nine years ago and have been stealing the show ever since. 

Anywho... (as one of my former coworkers used to say), Mr. Bentley loves his walks and as a card-carrying Husky he dearly loves the snow. Only problem is he gets ice balls in his paws which really cramp his style. Gigi's has a doggy boot selection to rival Boot Barn so a good chunk of my five-hour parking allotment was spent with a very helpful clerk trying on every type of doggie boot known to dogkind. Small to Extra-large, in every conceivable color, dog boots are now a 'Thing' which is good because I didn't want to have made the three hour round trip from home for nothing. Fortunately Mr. B found a pair that tickled his fancy so the LOML happily handed over the rest of Her/She/Our money and we were merrily on our way. Mind you, it hasn't actually snowed in my neck of the prairie in more than a month, but better to be prepared. I guess.

After all, 'tis the season to share glad tidings - comfort and joy and all that - so I'll wrap up with wishing you Happy Holidays and Merry Whatever (hey, I'm woke enough to let you fill in the blank). On the 359th day of 2022 me and mine will be celebrating the big 'C' but as they say, whatever trims your particular tree is fine by me and I hope it finds you and yours safe and happy. I'll leave you with a short Holiday video of another shopping excursion the LOML and I had taken recently to the equally wonderful retail destination of Golden, Colorado. Best of all, though this was a shopping excursion, there's not a shop to be seen in the video. Though there was fudge. HO, HO...