Freddie and I wish to thank Pablo and Family for the beautiful Mailbox sheets and Calendar they sent Fred. Its nice to know we have lots of people in our prayer circle. It”s nice to know that Bill has really nice friends. The light house pictures are beautiful and the verses on the note sheets are a great touch.
THANK YOU
Freddie and Dorlene Buckey [Submitted by Mom]
Rough Monday. Life feels unbearable. Sikorsky Aircraft treats workers like machines, no sensitivity. They’re making Saturdays work days, mandatory overtime. I’d rather die than lose my weekends. Looking for a job, might be less active on this site. Maybe it’s just a bad day, maybe I’ll get fired. Who knows?
Brrr… January bite be damned, Mount Mansfield and I have a date this Saturday. Snowshoes strapped, breath a frosty dragon, I’ll be whispering down the Long Trail, solo and serenaded by the Chin’s wind symphony. Marcy wisely opts for fireside comfort, leaving me to chase winter’s frosted crown.
No fancy ropes or crampons, just me, my trusty snowshoes, and a backpack stuffed with layers and courage (and maybe a flask of something warm… it’s Vermont, after all). Taft Lodge, a beacon of orange in the white wilderness, will be my emergency siren song, but the summit, that granite throne above tree line, calls to my adventurous soul.
I can already picture it: frosted firs bowing to the wind, sun a shy wink through clouds, and footprints, mine alone, etching silent stories on the frozen canvas. Maybe a red fox will dart across the white, or a snowshoe hare leave a mischievous zigzag trail. Nature’s secrets whispered on the wind, just me and the mountain, sharing a frosty dance in the heart of winter.
But summit selfies come with risks. No hand to steady the camera, just numb fingers fumbling for the perfect angle. So, fair warning, folks, the pics might be more “impressionistic” than Instagram fodder. But hey, sometimes the real beauty is in the frozen breath, the crunching snow, and the echo of your own heartbeat against the mountain’s silence.
So, raise a mug of something warm, dear friends, and wish me luck. This weekend, I’ll be chasing winter’s whisper, etching my own frosty chapter on the slopes of Mansfield. And when I stumble back, tired but triumphant, be prepared for tales of frozen toes, epic views, and maybe, just maybe, the secret language of the Chin. Stay tuned, adventurers! Your solo summiter awaits.
Your upcoming adventure sounds absolutely thrilling! Here are some tips and resources to help you prepare for your winter hike on Mount Mansfield:
Mount Mansfield Hiking Guide:
Preparing for a Winter Hike:
Taking Photos in the Snow:
“Hi just a up date on dad, Fri evening the sick feeling hit him and left us scrambling to the pharmacy to fill a prescription that he was to fill earlier but didnt. Well Sat. morning at 9:30 we finally got the med. after he’d spent a nauseated night! He had a sleepless night Friday but made up for it over the next 2 days. Tues. tho he’s back to normal until,hopefully, til feb. 4th.“~Submitted by Mom
Mount Greylock Sunrise Hike, Jan 24, 2004 – a memorable day in my adventure diary. All set to see the day’s first rays from Massachusetts’ highest peak, but I missed the sunrise by 20 minutes. It’s like arriving at a party just as they’re cutting the cake. Imagine this: -40 degrees at the top, winds roaring at 50 MPH. Felt like a scene from “Frozen: Extreme Hiker Edition.”
My gear was freezing rapidly, turning me into a human ice lolly. Thankfully, I found an emergency shelter, a paradise compared to the frosty outside.
Then, I tried heading north along the ridge, but the deep snow made it impossible. My feet were numb, and I was dreaming of snowshoes, a sled, and huskies.
After six hours and 10 miles, feeling like 100, I wrapped it up. But every cloud has a silver lining, right? The experience was incredible, and the photos are stunning.
Howdy, blogosphere! Buckle up for a Montana yarn about the wild west of my dad’s chemo journey. Hold onto your Stetsons, ’cause it’s a tale with twists and turns like a backcountry trail, but trust me, it’s full of grit and heart, just like the folks around here.
So, picture this: Dad, tough as a weathered pine, saddles up for his first chemo rodeo. Three days straight, wranglin’ those nasty chemicals like a champion bull rider. Now, some folks get bucked off by chemo, laid low with nausea and such. But not Dad, nope. He rode that bull into the sunset, just a touch of tingly fingers when he grabbed a cold one or two. Talk about iron in his veins, right?
Now, we’re all rustlin’ up for round two in a couple of weeks. Same timeframe, same cowboy courage. We’re hopin’ this next session’s as smooth as a freshly paved highway, but even if it throws a few tumbleweeds our way, we’ll just dust ourselves off and keep on movin’.
But hey, the trail ain’t all cactus and coyotes! In between the chemo dust-ups, life throws us some sweet surprises. Last week, Roundup rolled into town, bringing with it an old friend of Dad’s, Bruno Rodegherio and his wife Helen. Talk about a blast from the past! They chewed the fat, reminisced about younger days, and laughed so hard you could hear them clear across the Clark Fork. It was like a shot of pure sunshine, warm enough to melt any winter blues.
And get this, folks! There’s even a birthday surprise cookin’ on the February 3rd campfire. Can you keep a secret? Me neither! My lips are sealed tighter than a bank vault, but let’s just say Dad’s in for a whopper of a gift that’ll have him grinning wider than a Montana sunset.
So, raise a glass to Dad, the chemo wrangler, the old-friend finder, and the soon-to-be birthday boy. This Montana tale may have its ups and downs, but one thing’s for sure: we’re facing it all with a smile, a sprinkle of surprises, and a whole lot of heart. Yeehaw!
P.S. Mom, thanks for the update! Keep those Montana musings comin’, you hear? And Dad, stay strong, partner. We’re all right here with you, every step of the way. Now, go git yourself that birthday surprise and remember, even on the roughest trails, laughter’s the best medicine.
Howdy, you fellow trail mix aficionados and fellow sufferers of the “pre-dawn-alarm-is-this-worth-it?” blues! This weekend, your friendly neighborhood Missoula misfit (that’s me!) is gearing up for a Mount Greylock adventure that promises to be equal parts breathtaking views and questionable life choices (namely, the 4 AM wake-up call). But hey, ain’t that the Montana motto? Embrace the absurd, chase the sunrise, and hope the coffee kicks in before the mountain kicks your butt.
Now, I’m no seasoned Appalachian thru-hiker (yet!), but this three-peak tango with Mt. Williams, Mt. Fitch, and the big kahuna himself, Mt. Greylock, has me giddy like a squirrel hopped up on fermented acorns. Picture this: crisp mountain air tickling your nose, boots crunching on frosty leaves, and maybe, just maybe, a sunrise that paints the sky in hues that make Instagram weep with envy. Okay, maybe that’s wishful thinking, considering the sun usually sleeps in longer than I do on Saturdays. But hey, a Montana dreamer gotta dream, right?
The plan is simple (at least in theory): conquer the peaks, snap some envy-inducing pics (even if it’s just of my breakfast burrito because sunrise is a no-show), retrace my steps like a boss, and hightail it back home before my cat starts plotting my demise for abandoning him to the tyranny of kibble refills. Easy, peasy, lemon squeezy… right?
Okay, maybe not. Remember that time I tried to kayak the Bitterroot with a rogue squirrel as my only companion? Let’s just say things got… interesting. But hey, that’s the beauty of Montana adventures, isn’t it? You never quite know what’s gonna bite you in the proverbial boot until you’re knee-deep in mud and wondering if that distant growl is a bear or just my stomach rumbling for more coffee.
So, wish me luck, you lovely bunch! Here’s to hoping for clear skies, trails that don’t require spelunking skills, and a sunrise that makes me forget the unholy hour I set my alarm for. And if you don’t hear back from me by Sunday… well, let’s just say I might be busy convincing a park ranger that squirrels can hold their own in a mountain goat race. (Safety first, always, except when squirrels are involved.)
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with a backpack full of granola bars and a headlamp that makes me look like a slightly deranged cyclops. Onward to Greylock! (And hopefully back again. Fingers crossed… and maybe duct tape, just in case.)
P.S. If anyone wants to send a search party equipped with tranquilizer darts and extra coffee, I won’t judge. Just sayin’.
Yo, fellow cabin-hibernators and snow angels in training! Winter blues got you singing sad shanties to the windchimes? Ditch the fuzzy socks and cocoa coma, cuz a celestial shindig is brewing in Lake Placid, and it’s hotter than a yeti in a sauna! Yup, I’m talking about the Full Moon Party – a frosty fiesta where snowflakes twirl like disco balls and bonfires burn bright enough to roast marshmallows (and maybe your existential anxieties).
Now, I’m not your average party animal. My idea of a wild night usually involves binge-watching documentaries about obscure moss species (don’t judge, there’s drama!). But something about the call of the moonlit mountains and the promise of snow angels bigger than a grizzly bear’s appetite has got my inner snow bunny doing the samba.
Picture this: Mirror Lake glistens under the lunar spotlight, transformed into an ice rink fit for Olympian penguins. Laughter hangs in the crisp air, punctuated by the crackle of bonfires that could melt the heart of the Grinch himself. Hot cocoa flows like the tears of joy from whoever wins the world’s first (and last?) frozen Frisbee championship. And somewhere in the shadows, a rogue pair of snowshoes might just be tap-dancing to a soundtrack of crickets and coyotes.
Maybe I’ll strap on my skis and become a moonlight mogul master, leaving tracks that Sasquatch himself would envy. Or maybe I’ll channel my inner ice queen and give Elsa a run for her money on the frozen lake. Heck, I might even join the bonfire singalong, belting out off-key carols with enough gusto to make the owls hoot in appreciation (or maybe terror).
But whatever I do, one thing’s for sure: I’m throwing on my warmest (and most ridiculous) winter gear, packing a thermos of courage (aka spiked eggnog), and heading out to embrace the frosty fun. And who knows, maybe I’ll stumble upon a hidden yeti disco, witness a squirrel ballet on a frozen spruce, or discover that I’m actually a moonwalking prodigy. The possibilities are as endless as the Adirondack snow drifts!
So, are you joining me, fellow adventurers? Let’s ditch the winter blues and trade fireside snuggles for moonlight madness! This Full Moon Party is your chance to be a snow-covered superhero, a bonfire bard, or just a plain ol’ human having a blast under the silver sky. Pack your sense of adventure (and maybe some ibuprofen for the morning after), and let’s paint Lake Placid with frosty footprints and memories that’ll make summer sound downright boring.
Remember, the full moon only visits once a month, so let’s make this one howl at the stars! See you there, snow bunnies and yeti wannabes! ❄️
Howdy, fellow Montanans and friends of the quirky! Buckle up, ’cause today’s blog post is a whirlwind of dad updates, weekend wanderlust, and the occasional sprinkle of self-deprecating humor (because hey, nobody’s perfect, especially when it comes to punctuality in this town).
First things first, a major shoutout to the Big Sky himself! My dad’s on “the stuff” (medical jargon for good news, folks) and feeling like a grizzly bear with access to an all-you-can-eat huckleberry patch. Except one tiny hiccup: cold liquids send his tongue on a tap dance of tingles. Imagine sipping a frosty Moose Drool IPA and instead of refreshment, you get a symphony of electrical jolts. Talk about a buzzkill… but hey, minor inconvenience when faced with a win this big, right?
Now, onto my own Montana misadventures. Work’s been a rodeo of deadlines and emails, leaving me feeling like a wrangled steer at the annual Missoula State Fair. But the weekend beckons, a siren song of fresh air and jagged peaks. This Friday, after I (hopefully) escape the office clutches, it’s all about gear-up time. Backpack prepped, boots polished, snacks bagged – I’ll be ready to tackle the weekend like a mountain goat with a caffeine habit.
Speaking of mountains, Saturday’s all about conquering a ridge so legendary it makes Mount Sentinel look like a molehill. Solo adventure? You betcha! I’m basically Lewis and Clark rolled into one (minus the fancy French hat and Sacagawea, for obvious reasons). Think sun-drenched rock faces, wind whispering secrets through the pines, and maybe, just maybe, a golden eagle soaring overhead. Or maybe I’ll just encounter a particularly chatty chipmunk, but hey, even those little guys have fascinating Montana stories to tell.
Now, before you volunteer to join me on this ridge rendezvous, let me stop you right there. My track record for recruiting hiking buddies is about as successful as convincing a grizzly to share its picnic basket. But hey, that’s okay! Solitude and introspection are my middle names, and when it comes to Montana landscapes, the fewer witnesses, the better.
And finally, a quick confession: punctuality might not be my strongest suit. Running late for work? It’s practically a Missoula tradition! Blame it on the hypnotic sunrise over Mount Jumbo, the sudden urge to chase a runaway tumbleweed down Main Street, or simply the laid-back charm of this mountain town that makes timekeeping feel like a foreign concept. But hey, as long as I get there eventually, with a smile and a cup of locally roasted coffee in hand, who’s counting, right?
So there you have it, folks – a glimpse into the chaotic, beautiful, and undeniably quirky world of a Missoula misfit. Stay tuned for updates on dad’s medical marvel, tales from my solo ridge ramble, and maybe, just maybe, a video of me attempting (and failing) to lasso a runaway tumbleweed. Until then, keep it weird, keep it wild, and keep dreaming of Montana mountains as vast as your imagination. Yeehaw!
P.S. If anyone stumbles upon a particularly eloquent chipmunk on a mountain ridge this weekend, send it my way. We might just have a blog post collaboration in the works!
Ah, the great Alaskan chill, where temperatures plunge into the “this can’t be real” territory. Forty below? That’s not just cold; that’s the kind of cold that sends even the most adventurous souls scurrying for the coziest nook by the fire. But as the saying goes, “There’s no such thing as bad weather, only unsuitable clothing.” So, it’s no surprise that in Alaska, folks don’t just huddle indoors; they strap on skis and embrace the icy wonderland.
Now, let’s talk about Emerson, the up-and-coming mini human you’ve mentioned. It sounds like he’s growing faster than a spruce tree in the Alaskan summer! The idea of him skiing alongside mom on their first adventure together paints a heartwarming picture. It’s these moments, after all, that make the chill worth it. The thought of Emerson one day being able to out-ski Julie? That’s the stuff family legends are made of!
And yes, the Alaskan spring – it’s like nature’s grand opening after a long rehearsal in the dark. The landscape transforms, and what was once a white expanse slowly gives way to blooming life. It’s a magical time, a season of renewal and a reminder of nature’s resilience.
When you visit, don’t forget to pack your sense of adventure (and maybe a few thermal layers). Who knows, maybe Emerson, the future skiing champ, will be ready to guide you through Alaska’s stunning backcountry. And if you’re missing your mountain bike, don’t worry. Spring in Alaska brings trails worth exploring on two wheels, with vistas that make every uphill battle worthwhile.
Until then, keep the spirit of adventure alive, even if it’s just in anticipation of your next great Alaskan journey. Remember, in the world of outdoor escapades, every season has its own unique charm, and every experience, whether on skis or a bike, adds another chapter to your adventure story.
For those looking for more information on mountain biking in Alaska, or just seeking to connect with fellow enthusiasts, here are some resources:
These links offer a mix of community insights, trail information, and general travel tips for the adventurous souls looking to explore Alaska on two wheels. Keep riding and keep exploring! 🚵♂️🏔️✨
It’s been a journey marked by strength, resilience, and an overwhelming amount of love and support. The updates from mom provide a window into this challenging yet hopeful path that dad is bravely walking.
Monday’s Milestone: The week started with a significant step – dad’s surgery at the hospital to insert a port. This crucial procedure went smoothly, and by the afternoon, dad was back home, resting. It’s these little victories that bolster our spirits.
Update (1/19/2004): Mom’s words brought relief and smiles. Dad’s surgery was successful, and the port is in place. His spirits are high, evident in his enthusiasm for computer games, a much-needed distraction and a sign of his enduring strength.
Update (1/20/2004): Dr. Meyers examined dad and the new port, giving a positive report. The journey continues as dad prepares to start treatment with Eloxifin. It’s a tough road ahead, with challenges like hair loss and a need to learn a lot quickly. But, dad’s blood count is excellent – a promising sign.
Update (1/21/2004): The first day of treatment has passed, and dad feels great, a testament to his incredible resilience. The medication is being administered, and while he faces a peculiar side effect – a tingling sensation from cold liquids – his spirit remains undaunted.
The outpouring of good wishes and calls is a testament to the love and support surrounding dad. It’s these gestures of kindness and concern that make the tough days a little easier. Here’s to dad’s continued strength and positivity on this journey. [Submitted by Mom]
If you want to learn more about dad’s cancer treatment, or show your support in any way, here are some helpful resources that I recommend:
Excitement is in the air as I set out for an adventure that promises to be both physically challenging and spiritually enriching. My destination? The majestic Greylock Summit. With my backpack ready and camera in hand, I am set to embark on this journey at 7 AM from the Hopper Trail parking area.
The path I’ve chosen isn’t just a route; it’s a passage through nature’s splendor. Starting over Mt. Prospect via the snowshoe trail, I’ll merge onto the Appalachian Trail, heading south. The trail will lead me over Williams and Fitch, culminating at the summit of Greylock itself.
This isn’t just a hike; it’s a personal pilgrimage. My plan is to remain at the summit until nightfall. It’s there that I’ll capture the essence of the landscape through my lens and converse with my inner spirit in the tranquility of nature’s embrace.
As the day turns to dusk, I will make my descent via the Hopper Trail, returning to my car parked at the trailhead. If, by any chance, I’m not back by Sunday night to update this story (and you’re reading this on Monday), a call for help might be in order. But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that! Here’s to a safe and soulful journey. See you on the other side of this adventure!
If you’re interested in hiking Greylock, or learning more about it, here are some helpful resources that I recommend:
I just came back from the beach and I got some lighthouse pictures for dad. I almost froze my self to death taking these but they were worth it. Some of the best shots I think I have taken this year. Check them out in the photo section under new. Please feel free to vote and comment on them. If you would like some pictures in the mail just let me know the file name by email or PM.
It’s the kind of day that screams for adventure, and I’m all ears! Today’s agenda is clear: hit the adventure stores for some essential shopping, then head back to pack for an evening rendezvous with none other than Greylock. That’s right, I’m planning a hike to the Greylock Summit, traversing the snowshoe trails over Mt. Prospect and along the Appalachian Trail.
But the adventure doesn’t end there. I’ll be soaking in the beauty of Williams, Fitch, and finally, Greylock itself. It’s not just a hike; it’s a journey of the spirit. I’m aiming to stay till nightfall, capturing those serene moments in photographs and enjoying some introspective solitude. Then, it’s a descent via the Hopper Trail back to civilization.
I’ll be back by tomorrow morning, so don’t miss me too much. Have a fantastic weekend, everyone! I’ll be sure to share the breathtaking sights and insights from my Greylock escapade.
If you’re interested in learning more about Greylock, or planning your own trip there, here are some helpful resources that I recommend:
Strength, Hope, and the Road Ahead: Dad’s Cancer Update
January 15, 2004, marked a significant day in our family’s journey. I’m here to share an update on Dad’s condition, a blend of hope, apprehension, and a call for your continued support.
Mom and I just returned from Dr. Dickey’s office, where we received more details about the next steps in Dad’s treatment. This coming Monday, January 19th, Dad will undergo outpatient surgery to have a venous port inserted into his chest. This port is a critical component in his chemotherapy treatment, allowing the medication to be delivered directly into his bloodstream.
Two days after the surgery, on Wednesday morning, Dad will begin his chemotherapy injections. It’s a significant step, and while we’re relieved to see progress, the gravity of the situation is not lost on us. Chemotherapy is a powerful tool in the fight against cancer, but it’s also a journey filled with challenges and unknowns.
In moments like these, the strength of family, friends, and even strangers becomes more precious than ever. Your prayers, thoughts, and support have been a constant source of comfort and strength for us. We welcome all the prayers you can offer as we navigate this challenging time.
As we prepare for Monday, our hearts are filled with a mix of emotions – fear, hope, determination. We’re bracing ourselves for the road ahead, knowing it will test our resilience in every possible way. Yet, in the midst of it all, there’s a sense of unity that binds us even closer together.
Resources to Enhance Your Day:
We’re standing at the threshold of a journey that will demand our courage, our faith, and our unwavering hope. Together, with your prayers and support, we will walk this path with Dad, step by step, day by day. Thank you for being part of our story, for your prayers, and for your unending support. 🙏💖👨👩👧👦💪
Navigating the Storm: Dad’s Cancer Journey Begins
I received a message from Mom yesterday that’s been weighing on my heart, and I feel compelled to share it with you all. It’s about Dad’s health, a journey that’s just begun, and one that’s going to test us in ways we never imagined.
We’ve just learned that Dad has an aggressive type of cancer. It was first discovered by Dr. Annireddy and then further addressed by Dr. Deckey, who performed surgery to remove the tumor and surrounding lymph nodes. The diagnosis was sobering: cancer was found in 14 of the 32 lymph nodes removed.
The next step is chemotherapy, a word that carries so much weight and so many emotions. Dad’s treatment plan, as outlined by Dr. Meyers, involves three types of chemo, including a powerful new medication introduced in 2003. It’s a daunting regimen, but the doctors are hopeful because Dad is in good shape physically.
Starting two days after a procedure to install a chemo tube in his chest, Dad will undergo chemo every two weeks. This treatment involves a pump and bag that will administer the chemo over a two-day period. It’s a lot to take in, and the uncertainty of how long these treatments will last adds another layer of anxiety.
Mom and I are trying to stay optimistic, but it’s hard not to feel frustrated by the time it’s taken to get here. Every moment feels crucial, and we’re hoping the medical team moves quickly and effectively.
This journey we’re embarking on with Dad is going to be challenging. We’re bracing for the side effects, the emotional toll, and the day-to-day realities of living with cancer treatment. But we’re also holding onto hope – hope for successful treatment, hope for strength, and hope for more time together.
Resources to Enhance Your Day:
We’re stepping into a storm that we never saw coming, but we’re doing it together as a family. Your thoughts, prayers, and any advice from those who’ve walked this path before are deeply appreciated. Thank you for being a part of our journey. 💔🙏👨👩👧👦💪
Last nights movie was Jeepers Creepers II. Yea, it wasn’t bad. I did find it engaging and better than the first one. Special effects were a little hokey. This morning I went skiing but didn’t ski. For some reason I just sat in the car and listened to Howard Stern. I will try tonight to get out for a night ski up west rock and maybe some night photographs of New Haven. This weekend I plan to Go to Greylock for some winter hiking. I have to get snow shoes and a neck gator at the adventure store tonight.
A Stroll Down Memory Lane: The Unseen Chapters of Phamly Photos
Picture this: It’s January 15, 2004, a day like any other, until a digital time capsule opens up on my screen. Mom, the unofficial family historian, has just posted two new photos of Uncle Bob and his family. And let me tell you, it’s like stepping into a time machine.
There they are, frozen in pixels, faces I remember but barely recognize. It’s a strange feeling, seeing how time has brushed its colors over people you’ve known all your life. These photos, unearthed from the depths of family albums, are more than just images. They’re stories, moments, lives lived and shared.
But here’s the kicker – we’ve lost touch. The digital age has brought us closer in some ways, yet in others, we’re adrift on separate islands. So I turn to you, dear readers, in a quest to reconnect the dots of our family constellation. Does anyone have Uncle Bob’s email or snail mail address? It’s time to bridge the gap, to rekindle connections lost to time and distance.
As I stare at these photos, I’m reminded of the unspoken narratives behind each smile, each pose. How much we’ve all grown, changed, evolved. It’s a bittersweet symphony of life, playing out in sepia tones and faded colors.
Resources to Enhance Your Day:
I invite you to comment, share your thoughts, your stories, and if you can, help reconnect the missing links in our family tapestry. Every family has its own saga, and every photo is a doorway to countless untold tales. Let’s uncover them together. 📸👨👩👧👦💌
Boneshakerbike 