This was the pic I meant to post . . .

This one instead of the first in that last series, which was basically a vertical repeat of an earlier pic. What I mean to say is, Lookatwhatthelightdidnow!

Light was spectacular at 14,000! I took 122 pics, marveling at what the sun and clouds were doing with the ground and horizon - most didn't come out, as I was using a digital on auto, and couldn't see the LCD display in the light.

Rog, you would've had a hayday with your medium format. It's moving up from the end of my list, as far as handy hiking tools.

A final few from Bierdstadt.

More pics from Bierdstadt . . .

Those funny little snowball flakes I was telling you about.

Bierdstadt Peak, Arapahoe National Forest, CO

Here are a few pics from my first 14er. Altogether an awesome hike, though my lungs were killing me and I thought for sure I was going to pass out several times.

It snowed there this morning, and then snowed these little round balls (like a fluffy hail?) right as we got to the summit.

June's came and ran circles around me, as usual.

On the drive up, he was thrown from the car window when I stomped on the brakes to avoid hitting a deep pot hole. No more than 5 seconds later, he was dumping on the side of the road. The experience truly scared the shit out of him, but not enough that he'd back off on hanging half out the window.

Aside from the defenestration incident, he had a great day too.

More pics to come. I took 122.

Junes

For those friends who haven't met Juneau.

He's starting to chill out a bit. It's nice.

There's something across the street he obsesses over all day. At times, he's practically catatonic. I haven't figured out what he sees, but it hangs out near the dumpster.

Whatever it is, he adores it.

A more recent, sober acrylic.

It's yet unfinished. I plan to put river rocks on the ground stretching off into the distance - but haven't had the guts to try and put them in, yet. I'm a little bit stuck.

I've had a few drinks on several occasions and have been tempted to draw them in with black and brown sharpies - but that would brake both rules . . . the acrylic one, and the sober one.

So I'll hold off until I figure it out. Kev advised against the sharpy idea, but it's still lingering as an easy out. Plus, then it would be mixed media.

Pics on the home . . .

Kev's recent pic on his blog of the darkening blue sky with the trailing lights reminded me of this series I took outside of Phoenix, now taped to a wall in my apartment.

The other's an oil painting I tried in Phoenix, on my balcony, when I learned drinking and oil painting don't mix, for several obvious reasons, but most notably . . .

Geoff, you called seconds after I knocked over (and shattered) a jar of kerosene full of diluted red oil paint. It was a drunken, messy moment that tooks days of elbow-grease to try to erase.

Not unlike certain conversations I've had in a similar state of mind.

When I moved out, somehow, I was charged two-hundred bucks for stuff I completely disagree with (e.g a $40 trash removal fee I attribute to a Starbucks cup I left on the kitchen counter). I wasn't, however, charged for the gigantic, crimson, crimescene-esque stain I tried so hard to scrub off the concrete floor.

The pic is part of the painting now hanging in the dining room. When I look at it, I miss seeing the saguaro towering everywhere, lined in the strip malls and scattered throughout the open desert spaces. At the same time, I'm relieved I skipped town before the 118 degrees set in.

I haven't oil-painted since.

Sticking to acrylic and painting sober.

More of the Georgetown Loop

The sulfur smell.

The spent ash, falling on our faces.

The resonance of the shrill whistle in our chests.

The lurching.

The early Autumn breeze and the late Summer sun at high altitude. (I got fried, totally disregarding the sun as I was comfortably in long sleeves.)

It was a beautiful day, altogether.

Tom, thought of you, and your lamenting the passing of the caboose in the name of practicality and faster commerce.

The Narrow Gauge at Georgetown, CO

Gaaaaame POINT . . .

Ah, bikers and their chaps, leather, and best of all . . . the tassels.

I understand the leather. I'd want it too, if I layed a bike down on the highway. The chaps, not so much. The tassels bring back fond, and sadly, not so distant memories of Ocean City, MD.

I particularly enjoy when they have the tassels streaming from their handlebars. I like to yell things like, "Hey, your sister wants her bike back!" or, "WHY NOT A BANANA SEAT, TOO!?"

With the windows up, of course.

Mariah dares me to do it with the windows down, but as testament to the fact that i never have, i'm still here writing this post.

She also dared me to take this pic, and practically demanded it go on the blog.

Game point.

Happy Birthday, Mariah!!

'And I'm still in love with you,

I want to see you dance again.

And I'm still in love with you,

On this harvest moon.'

- Neil Young