Shivering with cold and fright, he lifts his binoculars and looks out over the starlight  night embracing  the cold North Atlantic Sea. 19 years old, the first time away from home…

Suddenly he sees it…a ripple in the water quickly approaching the merchant ship…a U boat torpedo ready to strike home!

Moments later an explosion… 

he is knocked to his feet and suddenly surrounded by freezing cold. 

Panic sets in, he flounders and sinks below the waves along with the rest of his crew …their bodies never found. Empty life rafts bob uselessly amongst the debris…

9/21/1940…a convoy 0f 42 merchant ships …11 sink and hundreds drown.

Their Guardian angels weep, tears turning to ice as they touch the waves below. 

The British Authorities realized that most of those perished could have they been saved if they had not panicked and floundered …death from paralyzing fear. 

And so was born the School of Outward Bound…an ocean survival training which markedly reduced the loss of human life in the next few years of the War to come.

After WW2 the educational Courses of Outward Bound grew and now are found all over the World. Their goal? To teach individuals how to recognize that inner fears and insecurities  limit and hold us all from moving forward in every walk of life. 

I have attended three such courses, through the mountains of North Carolina, a Winter survival in the wilderness of Maine and finally in open 30 foot pulling boats in the North Atlantic off the coast of Maine for 10 days…most terrifying for me a summer storm …no land in sight with 40 foot waves crashing around. 

As strengthening as Outward Bound is the experience is just an open window on one’s abilities to survive challenging unknown times. 

Years ago after my first ride for MS from Bar Harbor to Seattle I assured all that I’d never ride like that again. I was soon challenged to “get out of my comfort zone.” 

The more I thought about it the more I realized that Outward Bound showed the way but only by repeatedly “getting out of the comfort zone “ can one truly reach their potential…so I rode again and again.

In one week I will be riding from Norfolk Virgina to San Francisco California…again challenging myself.

A thousand years ago in Syria blacksmiths developed a near perfect metal called Damascus steel.  Harder than anything known at the time it still remains a metal worker’s miracle product…formed and pounded in forges so intense to challenge the human skills.

So too are these rides such forges which through time pound, push, mold  the soul towards its more perfect form. 

Each time I ride I become something more…

There will come a time when I will finally be too old to be further formed…that is a reality of life. 

And when I pass my Guardian Angel will drop a tear but not from grief but from joy at a life fulfilled. And the tears will turn not to North Atlantic Ice but rather nurture beautiful flowers below. 

4/27/26

The bus is late …
I am bored standing in the afternoon sun …
My granddaughters are probably enjoying more riding time with their friends….

Suddenly  She yells out. “‘Look to your feet! “

I never disobey Mother Nature  so I gaze down. 

“ These  beauties are about to take flight !” 

A puff of wind and five perfect creatures are gone. 

“ Boredom is a sin. Life goes on “

I look up to see the Yellow Albatross turning the corner, carrying my two beauties home.

3/8/26

Today we arrive in Key West. The journey ends successfully.
I hug a Wildflower I will probably never see again,

pose with the 4 other Route Leaders

and become part of yet another successful team.

Angel and Flossie look on smiling …

a photo essay…

3/7/26

long ago…

not so long ago…

now…

coming soon( Minion of Father Time)…

post Minion…

later on…

And the Keys go on…

3/5/26

Today I helped drive 63 miles to South Miami. Tomorrow I’ll start my three day trek west across the Florida Keys. We arrive early at church and decide to travel east by car about 5 miles to the Key Biscayne State Park. There I see a lighthouse that was created in the early 1820s and has since been reconstructed after having been destroyed first by the Seminole Indians in  a revolt and then after the South surrendered the Civil War. 

The keys have been habited for nearly 1000 years by local native Americans. The Seminoles were moved to Mississippi much against their will. There are archaeological digs near the lighthouse dating back to about 1000 AD.

I was curious about the word “key” so I decided to research it and share with you when I learned. Much of this is from Wikipedia. 

The Keys are a string of islands starting just east of Miami, extending to Key West and beyond ( un inhabited). They are formed on top of ancient coral reefs going back millennia now  covered by sand and soil with eventual vegetation and human habitation.

The islands lie along the Florida Straits, dividing the Atlantic Ocean to the east from the Gulf of Mexico to the northwest, and defining one edge of Florida Bay

The Keys were originally inhabited by the Calusa and Tequesta people and were later charted by Juan Ponce de León in 1513. De León named the islands Los Martires (“The Martyrs”), as they looked like suffering men from a distance. “Key” is derived from the Spanish word cayo, meaning small island.

The northern and central sections of the Florida Keys are the exposed portions of an ancient coral reef, the Key Largo Limestone. The northernmost island arising from the ancient reef formation is Elliott Key, in Biscayne National Park. North of Elliott Key are several small transitional keys, composed of sand built up around small areas of exposed ancient reef. Further north, Key Biscayne and places north are barrier islands, built up of sand. The islands in the southwestern part of the chain, from Big Pine Key to the Marquesas Keys, are exposed areas of Miami Limestone.

The Florida Keys have taken their present form as the result of the drastic changes in sea level associated with recent glaciations or ice ages. Beginning some 130,000 years ago the Sangamonian Stage raised sea levels about 25 feet (7.6 m) above the current level. All of southern Florida was covered by a shallow sea. Several parallel lines of reef formed along the edge of the submerged Florida Platform, stretching south and then west from the present Miami area to what is now the Dry Tortugas. This reef formed the Key Largo Limestone that is exposed on the surface from Soldier Key (midway between Key Biscayne and Elliott Key) to the southeast portion of Big Pine Keyand the Newfound Harbor Keys. The types of coral that formed Key Largo Limestone can be identified on the exposed surface of these keys. Minor fluctuations in sea level exposed parts of the reef, subjecting it to erosion. Acidic water, which can result from decaying vegetation, dissolves limestone. Some of the dissolved limestone redeposited as a denser cap rock, which can be seen as outcrops overlying the Key Largo and Miami limestones throughout the Keys. The limestone that eroded from the reef formed oolites in the shallow sea behind the reef, and together with the skeletal remains of bryozoans, formed the Miami Limestone that is the current surface bedrock of the lower Florida peninsula and the lower keys from Big Pine Key to Key West. To the west of Key West the ancient reef is covered by recent calcareous sand. While the islands of the upper and middle keys, consisting of Key Largo Limestone, form a long narrow arc, the islands of the lower keys are perpendicular to the line of that arc. This configuration arose from an ancient tidal-bar system, in which tidal channelscut through a submerged oolitic deposit. The bars lithified into Miami Limestone, and with changes in sea level are presently exposed as the islands, while the channels between the bars now separate the islands.

This is all rather “Greek scientific gibberish” to me but I’m sure some of you readers out there understand it. 

3/4/26

As a route leader the White Rabbit was supposed to stay asleep… but… today I ride 72 miles unexpectedly and there is another route leader to sweep. A transformation in the middle of the night

I awake and am ready to leave at 6:45. As the sun rises over the ocean I move South at a steady speed. I pull into the first rest stop 5 minutes ahead of the speedsters but leave soon after. No one sees me again until the end… I arrive 40 minutes ahead of them to get the yellow jersey. In fairness to them they are tired , achy, and concerned about saddle sores with little winter training. I worked hard to prevent these three but then I am a proactive turtle at heart.
As I cross bridges back and forth across the sound, locals pass me quickly riding one speeds!!! I don’t get it …but they are small pure muscle and natives.
I ponder my body frame… a little chunky and short… not exactly a model cyclist.

I ponder my age… not a youngster…

I ponder my speed… rather like this beast.

Here’s what I look like on the rides…

here’s what I wish looked like on these rides…

So why does the White Rabbit seem to end up with the yellow jersey so often?

I think it’s consistency, steadiness on the ride, perservierence ,avoiding long rests , and the monotony of “ grinding it out” . I’m not a glitzy ,fancy ,macho rider. I just get the job done…

Besides I always have an Angel blowing from behind…

3/1/26

Today I drove 37 miles and rode 45. Of course at the end I got lost riding alone.
I protected myself from the sun,

soaked my feet at the end and traded my bike in for Speed.

3/1/26

Vultures circle above a Virginia farm …everyone knows that something has died. 

A farmer looks at me, his temporary teenage summer help, and says “go find out what has died and bury it”. Bouncing on an old tractor through fallow fields I approach the scene to find a rotting calf who  has died from blow fly infestation…vultures feasting around. The stench is unbelievable. I returned to explain to the farmer what’s happened and again somewhat irritated he says “well go bury it boy”.

The moment calls for creativity so I stuff my nostrils with cotton balls soaked in Aqua Velva and sprinkle a few drops all over my clothes. 

It takes me nearly 6 hours to bury the cow. 

The next day still reeking of the aftershave cologne, I’m given a new assignment of cleaning out the farm’s grease traps and hauling the liquid garbage along with buckets mammalian waste to the dump. 

Half way there I stall the van on a steep hill and jackknife the trailer I’m pulling in tow…half ton of waste cascades down the hill. 10 minutes later a state  patrolman arrives and gagging at the multitude of aromas stands off at a distance unsure what to do. Luckily a thunderstorm approaches so he tells me to load up what I can and move along…No tickets for me that day…he can’t get close to me for the smells…

I never drive  a van and trailer again…

until now…

This year I have decided be a route leader on the various MS rides, the Floridian Coast, the Trans  Am and the C&O Canal.

I will still be able to ride but just every other day…most of my responsibilities will be helping the full time riders along the way. 

In the past, I have been ambivalent to take on this role …not being able to ride every day…and more importantly avoiding the van and trailer again.

Sooner or later time moves on…

I drive from Blacksburg to Fernadina   Beach to start , an easy highway route. My first leader training session is today from St Augustine’s to Smyrna Beach. Half way there we stop on a deserted beach parking lot for “backing up practice”.

It goes well.

40 miles on we arrive at our hosts church 

and I slowly back 

the van and trailer into the night’s stall. Amazing! I do it with unsuspecting ease.

Success will breed success, I firmly believe this…as long as no mammalian wastage is in tow. I will drive again tomorrow…

Appalachia 

The Ozarks 

The Rockies

 and the  Sierra Nevadas

Here I come

2/28/26

She can barely walk her ankle is so swollen from Achilles tendinitis.

 She has just joined us on the ride in Eastern New York following a wedding … not there at the start in Bar Harbor.

She readily admits that her training has not been great and the tendinitis is a direct result . I’m concerned that she may not get very far on the Northern Tier, but I start her on naproxen  and ride with her for the next week. Through the Grace of her youthful 25 years  and hellbent determination, the Achilles tendinitis resolves and she rides on without pain.

Three or four weeks later somewhere in the Midwest she and another rider pass the threshold of novice to become experienced  riders and finally show themselves to be “Wildflowers” (see the stories of June 18 and 19th of 2018).

We finish the ride in Seattle with much mutual joy. 

There’s an Aesop fable about a mouse and a lion .The lion catches a young  mouse and is about to eat her when squeaks from below beg for mercy saying that someday she will return the favor. The lion laughs and says there is no way something so small could ever help but decides to lets the mouse go. Some years later, the lion is caught in a trap of ropes… vulnerable and  old. The mouse now grown  comes along , sees the struggling  and offers to help by gnawing  through the tightened ropes. The lion bounds away free and the favor is returned.

I have often  thought of that lesson.  

Now, eight years later, I am riding  again with one of the Wildflowers. I have not seen her in all that time and barely communicated with her. The trek  from Jacksonville to Key West is about 700 miles and she has decided to join the team. We hug and embrace and I meet her parents for the first time.

Today I ride 70 miles the longest I’ve ridden in nearly a year and a half. Injuries and work commitment have kept me from long rides and recently the winter has been very difficult with much snow …outside training has been impossible. I ask if I can ride with her since I know I will be slow and she readily agrees . More importantly, I know that she has computerized maps  on her bike …she can lead the way and I will not have to worry about changing glasses all the time to read the map of the route.

When we reach the second rest stop at 55 miles I amble over  to her and ask if I should “pull a White Rabbit ” and speed ahead. 

With a slight smirk on her face, she says “ Well , do you have any idea where you’re going?” and I realize the answer is no. 

A smile confirms her suspicion and she says “ I think it’s best that you stay behind me so I can get you there”. 

As payback for the many  times  I “dumped her“ on the Northern Tier  in 2018 (near the end of routes for her experience ) she dumps me about 8 miles from the edge of  Saint Augustine’s leaving  me to fend  for myself .

I can  only look back and think of the mouse, which today gnawed  through the ropes and got me almost home…

It’s a good thing I have a Guardian Angel  who led me safely the last 8 miles.

1/17/26

This was a sapling 300 years ago. 1726. Jonathan Swift published Gulliver’s Travels. Poverty was rampant in the colony city of Philadelphia and the poor went on a rampage destroying  pillories and stockades . Ben Franklin, a young man living in England, returned to to Colonies while the English tabloids were inundated  with stories of Mary Toft who claimed to have given birth to a litter of rabbits…

This morning it snowed . A beautiful quiet landscape of white greeted me as I started my day. 

I decided to walk in the woods behind my home with my dog.

I stopped to look at fallen trees from a summer storm. I waded into the underbrush to count rings on cuts. Everything which falls in the forests here is allowed to decay returning Souls to the Earth to nurture generations of life to come. 

The now fallen trees ranged from 150 to 300 years old. Mother Nature always brings the present into perspective if we are willing to open our eyes to Her lessons. 

I rarely watch the news or read about current events but I happened to see a cover story of Time magazine yesterday expounding on the President’s need to leave a Legacy…

I am not a fan but nevertheless  I think that he must be one of the most miserable, lonely people alive…chasing a Legacy as his time comes near…

I recently decided to run for town council . My town is small, 500 people nestled in a Maryland Historic Preserve. I want to contribute to this community. Many years ago I ran for and won an election for School Board in an eastern North Carolina county. When I ran I was told by the election board that public officials fall into these categories; 33% want power,33% want wealth, and 30% want sex. The other 4% want to help the constituency. After 3 years on the board as a 4 percenter I decided they were right. In addition all seemed to be concerned about a personal Legacy. 

As time passed I came to understand that Legacy is a myth, a need to hope one is remembered after Mother Nature takes us…turning us to simple Dust nurturing the coming generations. I’m hoping that if I win this time my co-council members will miraculously fall into the 4%… I’m hoping Legacy means nothing to them…I mean, come on…Legacy from a group of 500 people who have chosen to live in a forest?!

I recently signed up for two more cross country bike rides. These rides, besides keeping me young and healthy, have taught me the importance of living in the moment. I have been able to incorporate that strategy into my daily life with painting, exercise, being with my family, and walks in the woods with my dog. 

Daily life can overwhelm with clutter and emotional complexities. 

 Given space and time these worry evoking events fade into nothingness. There will always be fallen trees in the woods.

Living in the moment brings clarity of thought and often reveals a path forward. 

 

I have often wondered at the relationship of dogs to humans…a nearly unique cross species bond. Dogs have mastered living in the moment and if cared for seem to be the happiest creatures alive. Mine wanders outside to relieve herself then returns with explosive joy as if she has not seen me in 10 years…living in the moment negates the concept of time. We get to experience this when we are concentrating on an activity we love only to stop and see hours have passed instead of a few minutes. Dogs live this every moment of their lives. 

Legacy is not a word in a dog’s vocabulary. There are no layers of complexity. 

Each of us is bombarded by daily events. Each of us survive as best we can but some suffer more than others. 

Wouldn’t life be easier if we all nurtured the idea of living in the moment ?

 I believe so . 

I don’t believe in Legacy. Someday I will become Dust marked by an anonymous tree ring in a forest where no one hears the trees fall… but as I pass the boundary I hope to take satisfaction in that I have lived my life as best I could, one moment at a time. 

Each of us must open our eyes to the Now and find the path forward regardless of age or circumstances. 

If you own a dog, give them an extra rub or treat. If you don’t consider getting one. They are Mother Nature’s gift to us…our Guides…