Tides

"Where the sun hits the water, and the mountains meet the sand, there's a beach that I walk along some time. And maybe there I'll meet her, and we'll start to say hello and never stop to think of any other time." -Neil Young

Mountain Man

Persistence does not come naturally. It is developed, through trial and attrition. What eventually rewards us depends on the seeker's devotion. How much they truly want it, once the thrill of chase wears off and the endorphins retreat. What remains is only the purest ideal. The mighty mountain. Either still cragged and impassible, or smoothed and triumphed.

Blue Sea

Some fought for glory. Others for romance. Some for adventure. Still others because it was just the thing to do. A way to get off the farm and make something of themselves. Problem was, anticipated glory and romance were rarely, if ever, realized. What was originally sought as a path to reverence and righteousness too often ended in a horrible, dreadful affair. Today we reap the benefits, living every day in debt.

The last, the best

Some memories fade. Others do not. A tribute to the 4K, an alumni weekend of sorts materialized just this past week in Boulder. Every year except '05 was in attendance, though '07 surely rocked the house. Ward's still a bitch--no matter how many times I take it on. This weekend surely brought me back. Back to chapels full of upturned bicycles, the air thick with rubber and oil. Back to nights where even a bed of nails invited deep sleep. Back to hellacious but proud tan lines. Back to week-old breakfast bars from Nebraska. Back to 5,000 calorie days. Back to the smell of sunblock, to silence. Back to a common goal, to friendship, to the last summer of my life.