The Things We Say To Rocks
Yesterday I found myself talking to rocks. They did not answer, which was probably best. They had already made their position clear. My friends Terry and Nancy joined me for a trip into the Beartooth Mountains. We drove through Red Lodge and began climbing the Beartooth Highway, a road that seems determined to demonstrate just…
The Miles Ahead
I am sitting at Les Schwab replacing tires that have not yet failed. There are still many miles left in them. The question is whether they are the right miles for what lies ahead. Soon I will begin a twelve-week grape-hauling season. Long days, heavy loads and changing road conditions will ask more of these…
Sounds Of Woodbine
The sun had not yet cleared the mountains when I sat outside our camper at Woodbine Campground and asked myself a simple question: What do I hear? First, water. Not water I can see, but the distant roar of water bullied by gravity—cascading over boulders and ricocheting around bends laced with deadfall. The sound never…