to the mountains

We knew the drive would  be long and sometimes on winding roads but it was one worth making. When folks asked why Denver? I would respond Mary has never seen the Rockies in person, so we must go and see them together. As plans were being formulated our oldest daughter Ashley would join in as she had never been to this area either even though she had been to many other places in her world travels. Unfortunately, having it be a family affair did not happen as circumstances did not quite work out that way.
Yes, we are retired, so we had time to drive and a relatively new vehicle to do it in. So once that was decided we had to come up with accommodations. We had never booked our own air bnb nor stayed in one although Ashley had experience with them she let me take the lead. I came up with one just 10 minutes outside downtown Denver in Lakewood neighborhood. On website it appeared in a decent area although one review said area around it was questionable even though it appeared there was a park, walking trail right beside the place which was a little bungalow with a cute little patio area outside. perfect for 3. I booked it as the price was right for our budget. Ashley would go along with it. She was excited as she found out Brandi Carlile was playing 3 shoes in a recently opened venue in Denver during our stay. We had all seen her in Boston couple years before and are big fans. Bonus!! Tickets were purchased for Friday night.
September had been a busy month for us and this would end up the month for a projected 9-10 day trip leaving a little leeway time. We headed out early September 24 sunny and a bit warm wanting to get as far as we could on the first leg which we planned for nights on the road.Indiana, Illinois flew by without any bad traffic and we breezed over the Mississippi River and into Iowa in the afternoon. Temp was mid 80's and climbing. Storms were brewing on the horizon.

But we we were lucky and the tornadoes stayed away from us. We did a quick booking from the phone for the night in Council Bluffs, Iowa on the border with Omaha, Nebraska.. After a long 8 hours plus of driving and a scramble to hit the right exit we realized our quick booking was not the best choice as we had a problem even finding an entrance so not liking the vibe we called and were able to cancel and we found a better place nearby. The Missouri River runs through this area and we found out much of traffic is rerouted or roads were still closed from Spring flooding. A nice place for dinner was found nearby and the first night on the road was in the books. Our goal tomorrow Northeast Colorado and less driving?
I rarely sleep well on the road so more often than not I am up and ready to hit the free breakfast before Mary but she did pretty well this trip and we were usually on road by 9:30.We were fortunate again as it was sunny and forecasted to be another day in the 80's. Omaha was in the rearview quickly and we were into the wide open spaces of Nebraska. Haystacks, trucks, farms,cornfields, silos, and cattle repeated over and over as we drove on Interstate 80 west through the occasional small town but literally land as far as an eye can see on a grander scale than most Midwestern states that border Michigan. Our day was going smooth ahead of our loose schedule until we ran into a major backup just before I-76 towards Denver. Then as I saw extent of backup I did something I would not usually do but the median was fairly low and I made a UTurn on median headed back to closest exit where my WAZE map system told me there was a detour to take. That set us on a real back road adventure that not even the GPS had an answer for.The road our detour told us to take back to hi way was blocked by state cop directing us down the road. Soon the narrow state 2 lane we were on going west ws filled in both directions. Of course up ahead of us was a WIDE LOAD caravan too wide for this road kicking up dust and semis coming other way had to go off road to avoid the manufactured  home being towed. This lasted a few miles of slow, vision impaired driving until they pulled over and let others pass. This diversion through some real small towns took us by a historical marker for some wagon trains headed west in the 1800's. We could only imagine those times traveling along the North Platte River with a caravan of hopes and dreams and hardship.  After a hour or so of guessing how to best return to I-76 mainly by using the old technology of our 2006 USA Road Atlas and stopping to ask someone in Sydney, Nebraska we headed south to meet up with I-76. Just before nightfall after another  8 hours of driving we pulled into "historic" Fort Morgan, Colorado.Denver was almost in our sights.

 Fort Morgan is a historic town settled to protect emigrants and supply lines along the Overland Trail headed west. This night I was going to try a "less expensive" room in a mom and pop style motel. . It was small, had cable so we could watch the Country Music doc on PBS, and was close to food and gas.Not many others stayed here that night cept for one little cockroach that surprised me in the middle of the night. Note to self, these types of places are hit and miss, buyer beware.After a restless sleep for me the next day dawned sunny and predicted to be warm again.

long trains that stretch the landscape
night trains moans that tell the story of a place
tracks taking someone something somewhere
across this land your land

Pt. 2 First Time From Afar: St. Patrick's Day A Little Deeper Now

It has taken me a while to get back "on the bus" so to speak on writing about our trip to Ireland for a variety of reasons but we're back on board and on the road again.As St. Patricks Day approaches I have a new found appreciation for the day itself as well as The Emerald Isle having stood on the ground Patrick did roam in the 5th century.  As we left Galway, its Bay  its swans and sailing vessels behind, The Burren and The Cliffs of Mohers's breathtaking natural beauty would stay with us on our way into Limerick, even sharing and creating some limericks on the coach on our way there with our touring group.We spent a night in Limerick having a bite and a drink while under the moon we got lost making our way back to the hotel but the river Shannon led us back to our bed for the night.
On the next day we were up at em early again after our hearty Irish breakfast we would be on the coach headed for the Wild Atlantic Way, the South West of Ireland, where Tralee, the Dingle Peninsula and Killarney awaited us. It is near  there in Scartaglen where Mary knew her Cullinane clan had roots and a little adventure would unfold for us.
County Kerry holds many a twist and turn on the narrow roads and peninsulas that jut out into the Atlantic.. We would make a quick stop in lovely little Tralee where Liz our guide is from and a matchmaking festival is held annually that is broadcast all over Ireland to find The Rose of Tralee, also a beloved Irish ballad. From there we would move on to Dingle Peninsula where the quaint town of Dingle is found. We would have some fish and chips, shop and sight see here. We had put it in Liz's ear that we would like to go off tour if possible for a few hours to seek out some evidence of Mary's ancestors. She would not disappoint as she soon came back and had a connection for a driver to take us on our quest into the countryside.
Before that would happen we spent much of day learning taking in the splendid seaside scenery of Dingle and the peninsula it sits on. It was on this leg that we learned about Irish author/storyteller Peig Sayers and Kerryman and South Pole explorer Tom Crean whose stories I  read on our return and are of  incredible feats of hardship and survival. We would end up the day in Killarney where we would spend 2 nights.

Our excursion the next morning would take us to

Killarney National Park by way of horse and buggy. Beautiful park and castle located here.We would spend the afternoon back in Killarney shopping and taking in a pub with our new BFF's from Massachusetts who we met on our bus and we were surprised by our guide Liz who popped into the pub for an Irish coffee while we having a pint of the black.

The 

next day we toured around the Ring o Kerry which hugs the seashore with many twists and turns, reminded me of Pacific Coast Hwy. 1 in California. There were the Skellig Islands, Waterville, home of a Charlie Chaplin mansion ,several amazing golf courses and back to Killarney where Mary and I had a driver waiting for us to search for grave sites.

Liz had arranged for a driver from the area to take us into the countryside, his name Patrick O'Leary. Mary knew that Scartaglen was where her great-great grandparents were born. So we wanted to see if anything could be found about the O'Keefes or Cullinane' clans. To keep this story short I will just say that Patrick was perfect for our late afternoon quest.

He grew up in this area and knew the back roads that Mary and I alone would of had terrible time to maneuver.He knew the  Churches and cemeteries. We had a name of someone at a gas station in Scartaglen to ask for instead we met up with a young woman willing to take us  to her house where her mother knew who was buried where. All of  the Irish hospitality was on display here as they took us into their home offered us tea and told us where to look. One of the church cemeteries no longer existed but another cemetery in nearby Kilarscon they knew had OKeefes and Cullinanes. I swear they were burning the turf in their woodstove as Patrick and the 75 year old grandmother spoke Irish (Gaelic) to one another. so we thanked them and off we went to the cemetery.Patrick even helped us search and we found O'Keefes and Cullinnanes but not any Mary recognized as those more directly linked ancestors we were looking for.We headed back with a good story and  a sense we had walked in areas that Mary's ancestors lived and roamed. As the sun set and Patrick telling us stories of his growing up and of local landmarks it was well worth time and money spent. We had dinner that evening in Killarney across the street from our hotel at a place Patrick recommended where we had a good meal and conversation with a couple from Cork about our US political situation and rock and roll. On our return to our hotel our BFF's were in the lobby having a cocktail and wanted to heat all about our trip to Scartaglen.
The next morning we woke to torrential rain as we all loaded in the bus after breakfast, only two days left of touring, We would begin the journey back to Dublin along the southern and east coastline. From here I am going to give  brief tidbits of our last two days.

• Getting to play Warren Zevon's song McGillacuddy's Reeks as we passed the hills they are named for on the coach from my Ipod.
• Stopped at Blarney Castle but we chose coffee and rolls and shopping over kissing the stone.
• Tour of Waterford Crystal facility in Waterford.
• Our group had its own cozy  little concert in a 300 year old pub, Aggie's, in Dunsmore a seaside  town, by a local musician. Had a Jameson and a pint of Beamish, one of the "other stouts" of Ireland.
• Night after dinner in Tramore we took a walk down to the seashore drinking wine with our BFF's and an Irish couple. The 80 year old Irish gent and I were singing Tom Dooley as the men dodged the waves as the tide was coming in and a hazy moon was rising above the Irish sea.
• On our Rocky Road to Dublin we toured a 300 plus year old woolens mill in Avoca, kind of a fitting end route after all the sheep we'd seen along the way.We had to at least get ourselves some scarves..

On our return to Dublin where we would spend our last night we had our first all day rain. Besides a cup of chowder and an Irish coffee for Mary searched for a pub my niece had told us about that her newlywed Irish husband said poured the best pint in Dublin.We found it! Cheers Erin and Jody!

 As we dodged colorful umbrellas in  the rain I felt the humanity of the city and a vibrancy with the schoolkids standing on corners in their uniforms, tourists and Dubliners going about their business.All around us was historic Trinity College campus and the many museums and churches.

Our Irish adventure was coming to a close as we had just been establishing relationships with our coach mates from around the world.Our guide told of us a word "craic" that in Irish means fun. We had us some "craic" both on the bus singing Irish songs and off walking along the Ireland coastline.We will remember our time together far and away as we''d ever been, the kindness of the people, a deeper understanding of the melancholy but hopeful spirit of the Celtic sensibility that seems to be part of our American soul.

First Time From Afar

Before the leaving the U.S. from Providence RI where we had spent a day and night before our flight with our Daughter, my wife Mary and I were generally excited to be using Passports for the first time and embarking on an international flight to Dublin, Ireland where we would meet up with our tour guide and coach (bus) for a trip around The Emerald Isle.The day of our flight out Ashley had taken us to an old lighthouse near Jamestown, RI a  historic coastal area in the south She would later drop off us at the airport to begin our journey. The weather that day was what we thought we could expect for most of the next 10 days across the Atlantic maybe 10-12 degrees higher in latitude but similar temp and precipitation, windbreakers and hoodies. We would be pleasantly surprised as we traveled on.                                                    

 After our maiden 6 hour trans continental flight we were picked up from Dublin Airport by our touring coach driver and tour guide, in a Mercedes touring coach, both fortunately turned out to be wonderful at their jobs, After attempting to get a nap from the jet lag/time change we met up with most of our 45 fellow travelers who we would be spending much of the next 9 days with traversing the Irish coastal countryside.
Let me start with our tour guide Liz, born in Tralee ( a town we would visit on our trip)who resided in Dublin and would set the tone for our daily excursions around the coast of Ireland. Her demeanor was calm but she had us all on schedule everyday. She had a masterful knowledge like that of a well liked history teacher who made our lessons fun and full of local anecdotes.She dressed stylish and possessed a soft, Irish accent.
 The coach was comfortable and in 9 days we never spent more than 2 hours riding without a break. There was a system where we changed rows, skip and move up 2 every morning so as to be fair with views and meet new fellow tour travelers.After a few days of travel I figured that about half of those on the bus were from somewhere other than the US. Australia, New Zealand, Britain, Canada and Ireland made up the rest. Most were Mary and my age or older only a handful were younger than us.It made for an interesting mix.

From here I am going to bullet some trip highlights as we motored around the coast.
* DownPatrick- burial site of Saints Patrick, Brigid and Columcille. Remarkable that we stood in the area that 461 AD St. Patrick was buried.

* Belfast- I got the feeling that this city represented the economic turn around in Ireland since the downturn of the 2000's. Not only has it bounced back from  "The Troubles" which plagued Ireland as recent as the late 1960's it has revitalized itself in tourism, industry and technology, once again becoming a vibrant force in the world as a port city with the Titantic Experience and Game of Thrones exhibits and tours.Northern Ireland as a whole does have a bit of a different feel throughout.

Landmarks-There are so many cemeteries, castles, towers, churches in deteriorating states some with rivers and estates surrounding them each one with a tale of a battle or some historical significance.We would get off the coach sometimes for just a photo op and other times to walk about for a brief respite.

Villages and towns -Of course part of Ireland's charm are the many quaint villages and towns, especially along the sea. Londonderry, Donegal, Galway, Limerick, Dingle and Killarney were a few we spent time in. Each one hundreds of years old with little shops, pubs and restaurants.

Giants Causeway and Cliffs of Moher- Both of these natural seaside sights possess the visual breadth that speak for themselves and we were fortunate to have decent weather to walk among  them and appreciate each one and their own mythology surrounding them.

Since Cliffs of Moher was about half way on our journey I will break off here as Part 1 so as not to throw too much at you in one entry. Part 2 forth coming with Mary's search for roots, Ring of Kerry, and what the Irish version of "craic" means. Thanks for being with us this far.

FB

Love it or hate it , use it or have never touched it, Facebook quickly has become embedded in our culture.Why? I am not sure but it seems to be rooted in some innate needs we have for approval, alleviating our boredom for a time and quest for knowledge. I have not written a blog in several months, just not been creatively inspired to write much during that time but watching not only my own struggle with participation in Facebook but my wife's and other friends seeming obsession I've decided to explore and express my own feelings and confusion about this social networking giant. Here is my ramble.
There are those who religiously participate, sometimes accessing FB's offerings several times a day, first thing in the morning last thing at night, using up their precious data GB's, while others look at it with disdain, wondering what the attraction is. Some have tried it, never to go back again, others go on and ''stalk', not posting but just looking at pictures, others' posts, not commenting, just giving an occasional like.A non-user friend calls it F-Book.You know what that F stands for. Only 3-4 of my closest 'male' friends have gone all in on FB. My self I sometimes will say "Stupid Facebook" after seeing a ridiculous post or exchange. I mean how many adorable cat or cute kid videos can one absorb? Or watching someone cook a turkey in a dishwasher, really? Or read users personal or political rants and where we 'are checked in' at this moment. .
What is it inside our brains that drives us  be 'liked' for what we choose to post and share? Do You think I am smart or cool for that article I shared or that photo I took of the sunset or moonrise last night? Some folks like everything, go further and "love' this or that picture of the kitten or grandchild. When an old reliable 'liker' doesn't 'like' something, uh-oh are they upset at me or for what I posted?

Facebook can be a place for community discourse, some folks embracing the back and forth of opinions on a topic or event. Many will proudly profess what they believe, calling out others who do not agree with them, at times even blocking or hiding their posts or the dreaded "unfriending", sorry we are not FB friends anymore 😟.
FB can be a positive tool, to raise money for a "good cause", promote your business, your artistic endeavors, help locate a lost family member or pet, talk to a friend in China in real time, send out invites to an event you may be putting together or getting this blog out to a wider audience. It really is a microcosm of our world; the good, the bad and the ugly, as there are those that use it to prey upon others. The Russians and others were able to freely post misleading stories attempting to influence the 2016 election. Sorry is all Facebook execs would say we're working on it. Social Media companies do extensive research on how to get us to log on more frequently to check other's statuses, or number of likes, loves on a post or a 'selfie' we recently posted. You would think they could stay on top of the potential negatives.
I think Facebook for many of us ends up as Entertainment of a sort not unlike television or gaming. Between the ease of use on our digital devices and our need to cure our boredom many of us cannot go an half hour without checking to see what out Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, or Snapchat accounts have waiting for us to peruse. The president is an example of not being able to stay off it for very long before having to respond to something he likes or dislikes.
People who post their most personal events or feelings make me wonder why they choose to do that but like an accident on the hi-way I watch and read with a perverted interest. I imagine it is a form of therapy for some to engage in these back and forths. Facebook only  represents our "big, ole goofy world" to paraphrase John Prine.
All in all, it can be a huge waste of time, it can be hurtful with hateful name calling, couples now found out we are no longer 'in a relationship' or it can make someones day with a little smiling emoji.☺
I struggle myself with my participation. I do not want to feel like I have to 'like" everything someone posts without causing hurt feelings but I use more discretion and am more random with my 'liking'.😌
I do enjoy the ability to re-connect with certain folks from our pasts and see what family and friends are up to, the reason why I initially joined. Mostly I try to use it as a vehicle for positiveness, an occasional laugh or a tear, trying not to over do it on anything. Will I continue? Probably, or will I go the way of many of our children, the millennial crowd, who we've chased off FB, to the slightly more technical Instagram or whatever it is that is in the works to come out next? How hard would it be to go dark and stay away? I can still text and oh yes email.What would I miss that my wife wouldn't tell me?
 After all it is just our 'friends' we are talking about.

"A Surf-Song Suite" - The Clones

we call it Spring

we call it Spring

thousands of bees create a perennial humming
among the crabapple tree that flowers,
blossoms flutter soft landing like dry snowflakes
near where the rabbits pause to listen and sniff
green ever greener
color punctuates this splendor
a lively landscape painting
an annual affair

Something In the Way They Moved

Well, we made a promise we'd always remember
No retreat, baby, no surrender
Like soldiers in the winter's night
with a vow to defend
No retreat, baby, no surrender

Bruce Springsteen                                          


Like those who were motivated to march, rally and demonstrate I feel a need to say something about the events of January 21 and the aftermath. I did not travel by car, train, bus or plane but was transported by a spirit that moved a mass of humanity. My wife, sister in-law, my oldest daughter and many close friends, male and female did come from  near and far to do something they felt they needed to do. I watched it unfold in the weeks and days before as my wife packed, created signage, my golf buddy prepared food for their group, others knitted hats and the conversations grew about what you would need and how to be safe, peaceful and in control. On the day of the march I watched it develop on the day of at home, on my computer stream and the TV screen. I could see and hear things up close from the DC stage where my wife Mary was and from afar looking over Chicago, L.A., Miami, Charlotte, St. Louis, Paris and where my daughter was in Boston. I felt pride in their effort. I am not sure how one could not be moved or inspired unless you're political views blind you so that the physicality and spirituality of this day caused you to lose sight of what was happening.

The newly sworn in president chose to say nothing about the gatherings as was probably well advised by his closest confidants.I believe he missed out on an opportunity to reach out and show he may have understood their energy or concerns but he did not. Another one for the disappointment column.

My motivation to blog about this is brought about by one central question. What motivated, compelled, moved all these folks to plan out and leave the comfort of their homes, towns and families, squeeze together in the middle of winter into the vans, buses and trains, in some cases travel all night, lose sleep, spend hard earned money and band together in places many had never been to express something they were deeply concerned with in their hearts and minds? What was so important to each of them, personally and collectively to join in on this day as one?  I believe they did it out of love, to overcome the fear they felt for their mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, sons and daughters uncertain futures and the changes they see coming with potentially negative consequences.

Something flipped a switch in their ordinary lives to make them want to Do Something extraordinary. They certainly accomplished a first step in making their voices heard.

So they returned to their hometowns after making history with their rallies, marches, demonstrations, their tears, their laughter, their music, their tribes of millions. New bonds were forged, making them stronger in the process. Nobody was seriously hurt as they came in peace believing that their actions might make a difference.A difference in the lives of those without privilege, without much of a political voice. They represented those women with a deep concern for their sisters and brothers well being and the Mother Earth we all inhabit.

If the 'Women's March' becomes a movement that affects change will remain to be seen. If they feed off the memories of the spirit and energy of that day and events, then those that I know will remain a force that will try to fight the powers that be with their voices, their own buying power as heads of households, and as nurturers in their family trees and networks of friends that spread out vast and wide. No Retreat, Baby, No Surrender! 

Photos courtesy of Ashley K. and Mary E.