Author: Bill

I met up with you but forgot your name … sorry. Anyway you sent me an email but for some reason I did not receive it (If you use the gmail option in my contact form, it may not be working) so I dont have your phone or contact information. Please call me at work today 721-6280 ext 126, tonight at home 829-1988 (Ill be at the Brewfest tonight 5:30 – 10:00), or email me at bill at williammartin.com.

Ah, the twists and turns of life at M.A.R.S. Stout Inc! It’s like a jolt of caffeine that woke up an old project I’d shelved, one that’s all about collaborative wizardry in software development. And voilà, here comes DevTrack! Picture this: a shiny, new web-based tech tool, a kind of Swiss Army knife for tracking projects, reporting issues, and brainstorming new ones. It’s like a digital butler, always ready to assist.

What’s the secret sauce? Well, DevTrack is a brainchild of my Bortal technology. It’s a cool blend of PHP serving up XML data, while XSLT transformations do a little dance and put everything up on the web. It’s like making a smoothie with tech ingredients!

Now, this isn’t just a pet project. M.A.R.S. Stout Inc is actually using it to streamline their service development and deployment. Talk about a test drive! I’ve jazzed it up with MySQL (goodbye, SQLite!), full XSLT integration, and some nifty user tools. It’s growing up so fast, I’m getting sentimental.

I’ve got a laundry list of upgrades I’m itching to roll out. If this winter traps me indoors, well, that’s just more time for tinkering. I read somewhere – a government paper, I think – that collaboration tools are the next big thing in software. They’re like the hot new band everyone wants tickets for. My baby, DevTrack, is web-based and flaunts the latest in XSLT and XML tech. But hey, what do you, dear readers, think about it? Drop a comment, don’t be shy!

And Mom, if you’re reading this – no, this post isn’t for you. I can hear you already: “My child, the greatest programmer in the galaxy!” Yes, yes, but let’s keep that between us, shall we?

Weekend Whirlwind: From Eviction to Elevation

Friday rolled around, and it was business as usual with chores on the docket – laundry, groceries, and the like. But no ordinary Friday is complete without a detour to Kettlehouse Brewery, where Larry, Alden, and I tackled the world’s woes over some cold ones. Post-beer, we migrated to the bridge for some much-needed pizza slices.

In the whirl of it all, I nearly slipped my mind that Thursday night had me facing eviction. Coming home to the chaos of unpacking and moving back in, I braced myself for an all-nighter. Once I managed to sort my life back into boxes and corners, sleep was on the agenda, but the overpowering scent of glue and new carpet waged war on my senses, leaving me with a throbbing headache and a queasy stomach.

Saturday dawned with a trip to Superior for a hike with the Rocky Mountaineers. Despite my secret hopes for a weather-induced cancellation, due to rain and snow predictions and my sleep-deprived state, the day unfolded surprisingly well. The hike was a refreshing escape, beautiful and captivating enough to nearly lull me to sleep mid-stride.

Sunday brought me to Cares Park for German Fest, my taste buds set on brauts I’d been fantasizing about. To my dismay, beer was off the menu, sold out before I even arrived. Not that it mattered much to me; my mission was singular – a braut, which set me back $7.50. Observing the scene, it struck me – Cares Park’s festivals seem overwhelmingly focused on beer, regardless of the occasion. An ice cream festival, you say? You’d still find a sea of beer tables dwarfing the lone ice cream stand.

Now, as Monday unfolds, aside from witnessing a confusing tussle between a dog and a girl (the details of who attacked who remain murky), life’s slipped back into its regular rhythm. And that’s the scoop from my end. Catch you at F&F!

Eviction Turned Adventure: The Unplanned Packing Marathon

So, Thursday Night Ride was on the agenda, and there I was, getting my bike all prepped and ready for the evening’s escapades. Just as I’m about to head out, I spot a note by my door. Barely giving it a glance – something about moving out by Friday – I chuck it inside to deal with post-ride. Ignorance is bliss, right? Especially when you’re about to hit the trails.

During the ride, I’m cracking jokes with the crew that I’ve been evicted, not knowing how true those words would soon become. Fast forward to getting home, and what was a joke turns into an all-night, grueling packing spree. The landlady wasn’t playing – she wanted everything out, fridge included. Which is kinda hilarious, considering my fridge’s usual state of emptiness.

So there I am, running on adrenaline, packing up my life. Sleep? A distant memory. But hey, there’s a silver lining – a post-work trip to Kettlehouse is on the horizon. As for moving, that’s a weekend problem. Hopefully, I’ll find a new place to call home, assuming the landlady doesn’t lay claim to my bike too. Here’s to new beginnings, fueled by beer and the unwavering support of ride buddies.

I woke up and wondered if I was late for work. The damn clock didn’t buzz me. Then after about 5 minutes of wonder I realized that I had come home and fell asleep wondering if I should go for a bike ride or not. I was a little happy to realize that I did not have to go to work at all. I got a reprieve!

So then I decided I would stay home and enjoy the evening. I made some black beans and rice and turned on the computer. I was messing around on the web when I ran across something for a game I have had played two or three years ago. I decided to pull it out and play a little last night.

I was getting tired and decided to have a snack and wait for myself to slip into a good nights rest. On the way to the toaster (Toast and Jam time) I looked at the clock … 3:20 AM. Holy Shit.

I sit here at work now with a body buzz so strong it feels like I have vertigo. Can possibly make it through the day? Will I make the Thursday Night Ride? One moment at a time I tell myself. I expect to blog or post a lot today because when I get tired I have a lot to bitch about.

As an employer if one decides to pay someone $8 something an hour what do they expect? I am sorry but I do not feel that I can be responsible for ramifications of their unreasonable expectations. Here is what I believe and keep in mind that it will probably get me banished from the good-ol-boy employers of Beautiful Missoula.

I got an education and I need to pay for it. If an employer can not help me pay for it (with a reasonable wage) then can they really benefit from the knowledge I gained while getting my education? So if you don't think that that is like taking advantage of me …. Your Wack (a quote I learned from watching a show with Tommy Lee in it)!

What do you think of those apples? Leave me a comment!

I feel bad that I am even thinking about my situation, not having a bathroom and bedroom. The images of the Gulf States are very heartbreaking and amazing at the same time. On the news this one man was being interviewed and they asked him who all was in the house with him when he had to get on the roof. He said that it was himself and his wife. The reporter asked where his wife was and the guy said that she didn't make it. It was so sad.

I came home last night from Shakespeare in the Park to find that I had walls and a bathroom. I was overjoyed to be peeing indoors. I am happy for now that I can use facilities without going to the park now. I can step down my apartment hunt and pick back up on my job hunt. I am always hunting for something.

Today is the Thursday Night Ride and we are going to the Wallman Trail. It is not the most popular trail due to its extreme climbing. I am thinking about brining my camera but with so much going on I don't think I will any more. No more rambling got to go!

It is obvious to me that my landlady and her children want me out. They are dragging their feet and making the conditions in the (what is left) apartment unbearable. Besides cranking little furnaces to make the temps in my apartment unbearable and installing fans that are so loud a person cannot hear the radio they have also not progressed at all. It is obvious to me that my landlady and her children want me out. They are dragging their feet and making the conditions in the (what is left) apartment unbearable. Besides cranking little furnaces to make the temps in my apartment unbearable and installing fans that are so loud a person cannot hear the radio they have also not progressed at all.

Oh there is progress, let me tell you about it. I came home from work last night to find everything untouched. I was disgusted but then the landlady's son showed up and it looked like he was going to work on the apartment. So I hopped on my bike and went for a ride because I did not want to get in his way.

After a killer ride on the Turkey Trail I approached my apartment to find all the vehicles gone. I figured that they did not even go to my apartment. I went inside to find some activity. Here is what they did. They hauled a piece of sheet rock downstairs (it appeared they may have had to cut it up to get it into the apartment). And … well … that's it. That is all they did.

7 days (a week) ago my apartment was flooded with sewage. All they have done is clean it up and haul a piece of sheet-rock downstairs. These people are losers, jerks, Californians. If her sons work in any manner that my apartment has been attended to then they shouldn't have jobs. Why is it that the lazy ass resource using Californians get jobs and homes but a Montana native with a college education and willing to work gets SHIT ON!

This morning feels like Monday all over again. I am groggy and cranky. This morning I had to pass through Grocery Land Security. Albertsons has hired thugs to guard the entrance to their parking lots so that rouge college students don't use it for parking while they are at classes. Give Me A Break! I would like to rant more about that or even the Lance Armstrong Investigation but there is more pressing news. I need to document this progression so let me start with after work last night.

After work I arrived home to find absolutely nothing done. The only difference was that they moved my barrier aside so that Marcy could go explore the ruins and that they decided to block open the door to my bedroom.

Why block open the door to the bedroom? I don't know but if I were to speculate I would think that they are suggesting that the floor isn't dry. BOGUS! What sucks about that is that they have a fan in there that is so loud that I can't think. So I turned them off! Fuckers!

So that's it. No bathroom and a growing feeling that I am not welcome there any more. I tried to look for an apartment yesterday but I got to interested in my online conference with my sister and mother. After that I fell asleep wondering what I should do. After a person works all day there is no brainpower to do much, maybe I am getting old!

Life is still stuck in my living room where my 4-room apartment has become a one-room studio. My landlady has given me next months rent to relocate until she can rebuild the apartment. If I do that, why would I come back when she has it done? Anyway, I haven't taken a bath or went to the bathroom in my own place since Thursday. Can you lose your job for not taking a bath? Oh well!

Last Thursday I came back from the Thursday Night Ride to sewage still all over the floor. I thought my landlady would be down because she knew I had arrived home. I stayed until 11 PM taking all my stuff and putting it out of harms way for the crew to come in on Friday … hopefully. My landlady did not come down and I fell asleep waiting to talk to her on my front room floor.

I awoke and had to go to work on Friday morning and I was glad to have at least gotten my stuff out of there. I was a little upset that I did not get to talk to my landlady. After work I arrived to find oil (I was taking my old oil in to recycle and had it sitting by my door) spilled all over the entrance to my apartment. I went in and found that it was cleaned out, gutted, and sanitized. I was happy that there was progress so I left to meet up with a friend at the Kettlehouse. Needless to say I got home a little drunk but in good time to talk to the landlady. She didn't come down and every time I went to talk to her I heard her on the phone. So I waited … and fell asleep on my floor again. I awoke with the screaming melees, probably from the Bongwater Beer!

I spent the night in the park so that I could use the port-a-potties. The next day I would definitely talk to the landlady. I finally did at 8 or 9 PM. She basically told me that she couldn't have me staying in an un-inhabitable place and that she would give me rent credit to move or stay somewhere else. I mean I was sitting there needing to shit and all she could say is, ”get a chamber pot!“ I had to laugh.

So that is the last time I talked to her. I need to move or hang out with limited use of my apartment while they re-build. I need the money so I may just hang out and wait. I know that she would prefer me to move …. Maybe this all happened because it is the only legal way to get me out of there.

Yesterday I know just about as much as I know today. I was able to get my aunt's new blog up and go out on the Thursday Night Ride. We had a great diversity of riders show up, around 9 or 10 of us. We had a single speeder, couple cyclo crossers, a trickle down theorist, and of course mountain bikers. The big news though, is my disaster apartment which is still plastered with crap.

I got home after work to find the apartment just as I left it in the morning. I was irritated not only to find no progress but that someone spilled the oil from my car which I was trying to get ready for recycling. Not only was the echo disaster still there but it was bigger now with an oil spill and sewage drying up on the floor.

My land lady, who is very nice, says that the has-mat people cant get to it for two weeks. Maybe if I could camp out in the yard unbtill then I can get a months rent for free, which would be a godsend for me.

So that is where I stand …. in shit. The plan is to have the has-mat people in today (hopefully) and have my land lady's son do the apartment re-build. I hope this dosent turn into a cob job. Its lookin like a shitty weekend already.

Well, I’m back where it all began. Last night, I found myself at the home near Grant Creek once again. When I first moved to Missoula, my apartment deal fell through, forcing me to stay at Motel 6 for a week. So, in essence, it was my first home when I came here. Last night, I returned because my apartment was flooded with sewage.

After work yesterday, I rode home with the excitement of going for a mountain bike ride up in the Rattlesnake. As I got home, the day took a turn for the worse. It turned crappy because the sewer pipes had backed up into the apartment. There was waste in the bathtub, literally.

My landlady was very freaked out, as she had never had to deal with such an event. We decided that I would stay in a motel, and she would get a plumber out to fix the problem. Once that was fixed, she’s going to replace the carpet that was ruined and everything else affected by the backup of the system.

So tonight, I hope to make the Thursday Night Ride, but that may not happen if I have to move all my stuff off the floors for replacement. Oh well, at least I got to see the new Batman movie last night.

My mind feels like a rogue kayak this morning, bobbing down memory rapids. It landed me right back at that epic campsite by the Glacier Park river, you know, the one with the Alaskan vibes thanks to the towering dirt cliffs and silt-caked rocks? Yeah, that place. This morning, though, I finally broke free of the past to post those Tuesday Night Ride pics from Sidewinder and Larch trails (2 or 3? Jury’s still out).

Maybe it’s the lack of coffee, maybe it’s the lingering Monday vibes, but today feels like it’s caught a case of the Mondays. Whatever the reason, tonight’s the antidote: a bike ride, destination TBD.

Speaking of detaching (random, I know, but bear with me!), I stumbled across an article on detaching from family. Don’t worry, no family drama here, just a lightbulb moment applying that advice to my co-worker relationships.

There’s a healthy line between their stuff and mine, right? I’m not saying I’m surrounded by Walter Whites, but let’s just say “dysfunctional office family” definitely rings a bell. Not everyone, of course, but you get the picture.

The point is, their problems are not my problems. Sure, we share the trenches, but I’m a separate human being, dammit! That means freedom to grow and heal, even if they choose the opposite path. I get to be my own organism in this ecosystem, guilt-free, judgment-free, and focused on self-care.

So, yeah, that’s my morning ramble. What sparked it? Honestly, no clue. But hey, if you need to know, that’s on you. Now, excuse me while I go find my bike and chase away these Monday blues (or should I say, Tuesday blues masquerading as Mondays?).

I just got back from the first annual Glacier Park Weekend put on by the Rockey Mountaineers. It was a great weekend with great weather. We camped at the Blankenship Bridge (free) and did two hikes in the park. Saturday’s adventure was Going to the Sun Mountain and Sundays swarray was a hike up to Syner Lakes.

Saturday’s climb up Going to the Sun was the highlight of the trip. It looks real extreme, straight up for a couple thousand feet, freaking breath-taking. I decided that I would at least go until they put on equipment, then I would wait for them at a saddle that we deemed as a staging area.

When the leaders put on their helmets and the rock came skipping by, I figured that the day was over for me. I said I was disappointed because I was not in a position to feel uncomfortable yet. Forest Dean said that the only place the helmets were really needed was the diagonal crevasse, so caution was a priority. The crevasse is just like the size and looseness of the Crazy Peak one. This one was not at a bad pitch though and I thought that I could do it.

That got me to the class 4 climb on the top of the summit ridge. This was the point were I knew I would not go any further. When I arrived it was so boxed in with no exposure that I wanted to do it. The rock was solid and if I fell it would of been only 10 to 20 feet to loose scree. I decided I could do it until I felt uncomfortable. They were being so careful even in the easy spots that it made me feel safe and gave me confidence.

I made the ridge to the summit pitch. The last pitch is supposed to be class 4 as well. The leaders found a class 3 route around to the north side and I summited. What a great climb. It was like a great accomplishment since I never thought I could do a climb with that kind of difficulty.

Talked to Forest Dean last night and learned that we are planning to possably do two mountains in Glacier Park this weekend. Going to the Sun Mountain will be Saturday’s attempt and Gould Mountain should be Sunday’s adventure. I am not sure how I will fair but at the minimum I will hang back and take pictures.

So that means today and tomorrow will be very busy. Friday night after work I want to leave so that means starting today I must pack and prepair. Clean the car and gas it up, laundry, supplies, and of course pack.

Last night was the Sam Braxton ride and that turned out fast but good. I almost got rained on and today’s weather looks the same for the Hayes Point ride with the Thursday Group.

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