Midnight Riders

It all started so innocently, we were just going for a ride. At least that's what we thought when we planned, or failed to plan our weekend ride. It was Friday, sometime around noon when I asked some pals if they wanted to go for an overnight bike ride. I was sure we could just find some forest service cabin to stay in for the night. I was sure we could find one that was not too far off the paved road so we could ride our bikes to it. "Easy peasy lemon squeezy!"  Not so fast. After scrambling around on the web and looking for a cabin that was available, we settled on the Wall Creek Cabin. None of us had been there, but we had directions faxed to us by the gal that took our reservation and credit card over the phone. We knew about where the turn off was just south of Ennis and figured if we got our gear together and got on the road we would be at the cabin before sundown. Had we gone back to the basics (the basics being that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west) we would have realized,"we live in the west".

We got ready and we got riding and we GOT to the turnoff during day light. What happened after that was actually captured (real time) in the cabins log book. That right there should tell you we made it and we weren't killed.

Almost immediately after turning off the highway and on to a dirt road we familiarised ourselves not only with dust, mud and eventually snow, but also the word ambiguity. The directions seemed to fade from a physicians cursive short hand to braille on newsprint from 1925. We tooled around a wildlife labyrinth of sorts, scratching our helmets at every fork (and every forken fork) in the road. Twice, before the night was over, I would swear to seeing Rod Serling in my mirror. The second time was due to us  getting turned around and I actually just pasted him again in the same spot.(awk-ward). By that time we were riding in the dark. We all had fixed headlights, which means, when you turn your handle bars left or right, the head light shines straight ahead. That would prove to be a good thing. (in hind site only). As we worked our way out of one draw and into another, we came across a large barrel, bear trap. The trap, I figure was set by Montana Fish & Wildlife, in order to catch a nuisance bear in the area. I offered the suggestion that we should park our bikes, get inside, close the door and sleep for the night. Heck, if it was designed to keep bears in, it sure as heck ought to keep them out! No one else was buying it. So we rode on.

   

  By now it was midnight. As we stopped for me to unwind the barbed wire from around my front wheel, my pal,JD, managed to get a signal on his cell. In order to keep the signal, he had to hold the phone above his head and talk on the speaker. He managed to get a hold of his wife and she got on their computer and utilized satellite google to figure out roughly where we were and actually gave us directions that eventually walked us right in. It was almost like calling in an air strike if only one of us had uttered the words, "look for the smoke".

We settled for a "goodnight honey and I love you.  Bloody tired, sore, hungry and thirsty we pulled up to the cabin around 1a.m.. I think we stayed up long enough to eat quickly, have a drink and write in the log book. After that? you guessed it, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

    When morning broke, we packed up and headed our for the rest of our journey. On the way down the mountain.\, we stopped and looked back. I asked the other two guys if they would ever consider riding their bikes up those gravelly, muddy, rocky roads, with no guard rails and sheer drop offs, in the day light? No, was common consensus. I remember more than once on the way up, in the dark, doing some real circus stuff in order to just stay on the road. Yikes!

     We motored on; me on my Cop Cruiser, JD on his Harley softail and P.Ditty on his Crotch Rocket. I know what you're thinking, "what were they thinking?" Not one of those bikes was made for even semi-off road.

     If you ever get a hankering for a treasure hunt of sorts, head up to the Wall Creek Cabin an look for our entry into that journal from that night. It was written with raw emotion and left no stone unturned. It's all about the journey and only sometimes about the destination.

Pittsburgh Book Report

     This past trip to western Pennsylvania afforded me the opportunity to look outside the box for adventure. Normally I want to fly, sail, speed, climb anything out of the norm. Well I did just that, for me anyhow. I read 4 books during my week there. And true to form, four very diverse books. A tour, contained inside the mind if you will. All four of them are actually tied together, however it may take a clever Sherlock Holmes to figure it out. Maybe a clever Charlie Chan or even Inspector Clouseau to stumble across the similarities? Nah, just good old Dash Confab...............all in.

 

The first Book was Medium Raw: A Bloody Valentine to the World, by Anthony Bourdain. It's his follow up to, both Kitchen Confidential and A Cooks Tour. After reading both of them and being a big fan of Tony and his t.v. show, No Reservations, I enjoyed the book. He seems to have a brash, "no holds bard" take on food and the people that make it happen. It has been interesting watching him grow over the years on television as well as in his books. I was surprised when he ended his latest book with some updated insight into people and incidents he brought to light in his first book; a reflection if you please.  I'm still not sure if it was justification or verification. I do however like when he writes that he really thought no one outside of the kitchen would ever read his first book. He appeared to become a bit sentimental and somewhat more sensitive in his more mature years. Who was it that said, "Youth is wasted on the young"?  Hey Tony, I think you're GGGGRRRRRRRREAT!

 

 

 

Book number 2; tuesdays with Morrie, by Mitch Allbom. A true story written by the sports writer for the Detroit Free Press. I guy whos' column I read regularly and a guy I watched mug it up with the local Detroit sports superstars. It seems through an interesting set of circumstances, he went back to find his favorite college professor who was diagnosed with a debilitating disease. Mitch regularly visits with Morrie throughout his last days. The story is filled with love, respect, longing, reflecting and even hope and humor. You can't help but let a little bit of Morrie inside of you as you read on. I knew how the book ended and still found myself becoming confused on how and if I wanted to start the last chapter. My take away? Without love, you die. Thanks Mitch. Thanks Morrie.

 

 

 

The 3rd book? Who Moved My Cheese? , by Spencer Johnson,M.D.  After you read this book, imagine Hem & Haw watching the movie, A Few Good Men. They would be pie eyed and white knuckled when Jack Nicholson bellows out; "you want the truth? You couldn't handle the truth!"  I liked the forward in the book by Kenneth Blanchard. The dialog that takes place in the book, both before the actual story as well as after does a great job of framing it up and putting it into play. Embrace change! This book is Mad Cheese. After reading this book I actually had a brush with fame. As I walked the high streets of Pittsburgh, I positively ran into one of the characters from the actual book. Her is a picture I was able to snap of Sniff. Any idea how I got him to smile for the camera?

The fourth and final book in my literary voyage was Steve Martins, Born Standing Up. Interesting as it was written by Steve, however, he prefers to call It a biography as opposed to an autobiography because it is a book about a guy he use to know. Being a product of the 80's myself, I began to follow Steve as he appeared of S.N.L. I had no idea of his works prior and by the time you see him in Parenthood, he's all grown up. Aside from having one of the coolest pictures in the book of Steve looking like a gun slinger that could kick Kenny Rodgers, "Gamblers" ass in a heart beat, the book was fun to read. The book shows that patience, persistence and perseverance is not enough. You gotta have talent and you go farther if you're true to yourself. It also shows that you sleep easier at night if you take the high road. Impressive is the way Steve shares his romantic interludes and tender, coming of age moments, with the softest kid gloves imaginable. Steve is, no JERK.

 

 

The last time I read like that, I was in 3rd grade and fell asleep under a desk in the "Bookmobile", I woke up 3 hours (& 117 miles) later and read books until my parents came to get me at the municipal library later that night. Those books? Mr. Pines Purple House, Gilbert the Ghost, Willie Looses His Kite & who could forget, Scotty goes to the Potty.

Sunday Bike Ride

I took a quick 120 mile bike ride this afternoon. This is the view from Jardine, of Deckard Flats.

I also stopped along the Yellowstone River to take a picture of Emigrant Paek. (Elevation 10,921) In 1962 a B47 crashed into the mountain. You can hike up to the top and still see parts of the wreck.

What's your Sunday drive look like?

T.G.I.F.@H.O.H.P. is A-ok

 If you’ve ever gone to a rave or hit the dubstep scene or just gone extreme clubbing, you know the drill. You head down town to an extremely unpretentious part of town, no neon, no flashing lights, no tell tail signs, you just know where to go. It's all prety much word of mouth. Friday night in Pittsburgh, we go out for the night. Down to a dark side of town and casually into a parking space that looks as though it was saved just for us. We walk to an old building that looks as though it is no longer in use. We head right in the front door (cause Teri’s playing tonight), onto the dimly lit elevator and up to the 3rd floor. As you exit the lift, it’s a tight hallway “L”, one more door, and we’re in. We are early so not much going on just yet. A few quick intros, a short stare down from the big fellow seated just inside the door and Teri is off collaborating with the sound and lighting people. I start people watching as the other musicians start rolling in and the audience follows shortly after. Let’s get this party started!   
      The music starts playing and the atmosphere is  more informal than I have ever seen. It’s like 50% standard routine and 50% open mike; lots of instruments up on the stage as well as open mikes. If you feel moved, you can grab a drum or bongo and play along. Step up to the microphone of you feel so moved and sing back up; it’s cool. Talk about hepcats? If you feel like reciting a favorite verse or unleashing your heart, let’er rip tater chip!      Teri does not start off playing, but after about an hour and a half, she eases on stage and right onto the key board as the whole idea is to not let the music stop. Her sister sits on a stool next to her and sings back up. The crowd is definitely into it: everybody is doing their own thing.

      As the night of non-stop music comes to an end, something strange and unexpected happens. Always on guard and constantly frosty when I'm in unfamiliar surroundings, I never saw it coming. As the musicians continue to play softly, the guy running the show wants to publicly thank Teri for coming many miles and setting time aside to come down to H.O.H.P.. It's not exactly C.B.G.B.s, in fact it's nothing like the famous punk scene. In fact, while I have been writing this story, the facts are correct but I have been painting a picture in your mind that lead you to "bob" when you should be "weaving". Allow me to retort.

  Friday night we headed to downtown Pittsburgh to minister to the homeless. We went to House of His Presence. (H.O.H.P) for an evening filled with worship in the form of music, song, prayer and love. I imagine for a few it might have been just a warm, dry place to sit. For some it could have been a place to get something to eat; but for all, it was a safe place in an otherwise busy world to rest, reflect and soak in the spirit. I enjoyed people watching the entire evening and was blessed because I could only imagine how some of those people got where they were in their lives. I truly delighted in all that I witnessed that night and was truly humbled before the evening was over. As Teri was called up to the front, to thank her for leading worship with them, I too was called to the front. Not wanting to leave me out, they prayed over us both. Not money, not hand shakes,but  prayers from their hearts. I had people, whom just minutes earlier I had been silently praying for, now praying over me. All very new for me. It was beautiful and humbling, and I felt the love. If you ever have the opportunity to step outside of your comfort zone, listen for the music and take a step through those doors. It's good for the SOUL.

Pirates, Steelers and....... Sushi?

If you've been tuning in and, as I like to say, been following "the Dash" you see I've been A.O.L.: I have been a victim of technology as well as lack, there of. Well, I've been in Pittsburgh. Summoned as if almost by the Bat Phone itself, I found myself sharing the lime lite, once again, with both super heroes and villans. It's true! The Andy Warhol Museum was hosting an exhibit by Alex Ross entitled; Heroes & Villans: The Comic Book Art of Alex Ross. Kind of like cops and firemen, we like to hang out at the same places. I did have the opportunity to extend some professional courtesy in spite of the fact they were all DC comics. With the ever so vigilant eyes of a hawk, I was however, able to catch a glimpse of Captain America.

    Even Super Heroes need to eat, so I hit the food scene a bit more laid back than normal. My first stop was Tokyo, sushibuffet&grill. I know what you're thinking, SUSHI BUFFET? It was great!  40 selections of sushi and sashimi, including hand rolls made to order. A talented staff and an overwhelming selection to choose from. If you have ever wondered just how much sushi it would take you to scream uncle (pronounced uncoe in Japanese), this is the place.

 

For lunch we stopped in at Primanti Bros. (Almost Famous since 1933) It's a sandwich place that is tall on atmosphere and short on taste. Perhaps it was my fault as I chose the cheese stake sandwich due to the fact that it had a disclaimer after it that read: our #2 seller. Maybe it's because I'm from Philly and my expectations are high or I'm so use to fighting for #1, that #2 is and will always be the first loser.   

 

On another day we headed down to the strip district. (Not the stripper district) where I pressed my nose against the glass and ogled..........fresh fish, at Wholey's Fish Market. If it swims in water, they got it!

My most memorable part was not the food but the lady hawking, freshly made lobster bisque. 100% totally addressing the women. It must have been as plain as the nose on my face that no man, EV ER (2 syllables) can cook. "Ladies (complete with strategic, pin point eye contact), put this on your pasta". "Girls, they'll love this on cold days". Me, well looks like I'm stuck with my tin of Hungry Man frozen dinners, ALSO LEFT OVER FROM THE 70'S! That was enough for me, I wasn't going to spend any of my hard earned, Susan B.Anthony's it that establishment.  

  

 

Across the street to the Pennsylvania Macaroni Company we went. Can you say "CHEESE"? You say it, they got it. You want more? They got it. You wanna tchro sumpin togedder f'lunch? G'head. O.k., I did. I got crazy with the olives; Coluccio Calabrese, Sharp Provelone stuffed and my own little baby sourdough and, bada boom, bada bing, lunch.

 

My time to hit the multitude of food stops was insufficient, but I will say this, "It ain't always about the food, sometimes it's about the company, sometimes it's about the journey, occasionally all things click and all you can say is wow." For those times when it just doesn't work out, just have one of the girls heat you up some delicious bisque. Cao

Goat Russlers

A few days ago, I found myself out on the prairie again. This time looking for some missing animals. I went up to a private 43,000 acre ranch to look for some missing goats; several hundred to be exact. I spent the entire day glassing and looking for clues. Miles of roads and nobody, anywhere around. No one to question, no one to talk to, no one, period! The day was not a total bust. There are lots of places on the property that have probably never seen a human foot print. Hard to believe in this day and age. Even I can't help but get distracted when the day gets long. When I was out where my favorite draw empties out off the plateau, I stumbled onto some cool stuff. I found what looks like a small cutting stone that's napped around the edges, like an Indian scraper. I also found some other cool rocks. They appear to be sand stone on the outside and either hollow on the inside or full of a different rock. They range in size from a small marble to a golf ball. Some look like petrified button mushrooms or petrified chestnuts. I'm headed of to a pals house that is into this sort of thing. If he doesn't know what they are, he'll find out. As for the disappearance of the goats, nothing to report, but I'll keep my eye out.  

My Heroe's Have Always Been Cowboys

I had a chance to meet one of my hero's a few days back. If I had to capture the experience and draw it in the form of a graph, it would look an awful lot like a giant check mark. I say giant because heroes are always larger than they seem. Growing up I was drawn to cowboys and super heroes. I new all the super heroes lived in New York and therefor all the cowboys lived out west. There I was, trapped in the Mid West, a virtual no mans land. I don't want to get into name calling, but as Bob Dylan sang it, I was stuck in the middle with you. I made quite a few contacts with more cowboys than I did super heroes. I established a friendship with western writer and artist, Bob Boze Bell, Mark McPherson and the wife of the Fastest Gun alive Becky Munden. (Bob and Becky by mail) Years later I had a chance to meet Bob Munden in person. I was headed out to his house in Butte,Montana. I was with a friend that was going to have some work done to a six shooter and for what he wanted, Bob was the man.

 

Bob had a house in town that served as an office. When we pulled up outside the address, it didn't look like a cowboy lived there. A quick nock on the door and there he was, in the flesh,Bob Munden. I had watched Bob on many of Saturdays on TV doing quick draws and trick shooting and I couldn't wait to see what would happen. After the initial introduction and 15 minutes into the conversation I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Bob was all business, PERIOD! What a gip! Bob talked softly, took my pals six shooter, worked on it while we both looked on in silence and that was it. I was heart broken, my hero was not so super after all. He finished the gun, handed it to my pal for inspection and brief small talk, cash exchanged hands and that was that.

 

Just as soon as the work was done, a switch got flipped. Bob came alive, as though he stepped into a phone booth or something. Before you know it we were laughing and listening to stories. Great stories! A few minutes later, Bob was dragging out pictures of famous celebs, sharing stories and then..................out came the hardware. Bob had two, matching gold colts with ivory handles. He drew them out of their leather holster, even as the rig rested inside a duffel bag. He gave them a quick twirl, flipped them around and handed them to me but first. "Check these out", he said. How cool was that? The big iron just kept coming out, from coach guns to lever actions. It just went on and on. Eventually some friends of Bob's came over, (all dressed as though they walked of the set of an old western). The outcome? More holes in the breeze. Bob turned out to be a great guy and still remained my hero. If you get a chance to see Bob on TV or in person I have one simple piece of advice,Don't Blink!

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SkViQc1KC-g       

 

I'll have a Grasshopper, on the rocks.

With summer seemingly coming to an end, it's time to get your last hikes in. When it's "Bloody Hot" out, you head up to the mountains to cool off. I know what you're think, "but Dash, arn't you closer to the sun?" Yes and no. The air is thinner but you are not and going up isn't always harder than going down.  Another thing to think about is; what ever someone brings to eat, always looks better than what you brought. Stop asking so many questions and start packing.  Hiking gets you away from day to day doldrums. (unless you work at a ranger station) Finding cool places to hike doesn't always pertain to temperature, but sometimes it does. I love having snowball fights in July just as much as the next guy.

 

  On of my favorite hikes is up to Hopper Glacier in the Crazy Mountains in Montana. Out of 150 original glaciers in the lower 48, only 2 dozen remain today and they are shrinking and thus great destinations! I believe there are a handful of glaciers in Montana and Wyoming named either Grasshopper or just Hopper Glacier. This one in the Crazies came under scrutiny in the early 90's (1990's) when it was discovered to contain hundreds of recently deposited grasshoppers representing 18 specific species. Kind of like how often they still keep finding dinosaurs around here. Big dinosaurs!

 

     Few things in life are certain, when it comes to hiking, here are a few: #1 Like the bear that went over the mountain, we just want to see what we can see, #2 If it gonna be easy, it's gonna be crowded, #3 If you pack warm, it's gonna be cold and vice verse, and most important, #4 You can't beat the view. Take time to enjoy it when you get there cause you never know if you're gonna get back and if you do, there's no guarantee it will still look the same if you do. 

 

 

1 Bike Ride, Two Falls.

I had a chance to go for a ride today and have lunch with the Christian Motorcycle Association in my area. We headed out to Natural Bridge State Park. (That's just a few miles down the road from Road Kill Saloon)

It was about a 120 mile round trip. Dave pulled a trailer with his bike, that took care of the grill and the coolers. Hamburgers and sausage and wonderful people.

Natural Bridge is a spectacular place to visit as it can change from day to day. It's a fun place to spend the day rock climbing, fishing,swimming, spelunking and there is even a hidden beach that's out of sight.

Constrained by a deeply cut chasm during high water, the Boulder River flows over a 100-foot precipice, creating the spectacular Natural Bridge Falls. At low water, the river used to flow under a natural rock bridge, but in July 1988, the bridge that gave the area its name, collapsed.

Some of the folks that have lived out in the area for 18 years had never been here. Funny, if you don't venture out, you can easily miss out on God's beauty. Sometimes that might mean waterfalls, sometimes it's people.

Food with Foodies

This morning started up bright and early; prepping for the dinner party. I had a special dish to prepare for 9 special friends and my beautiful bride. There's food you cook for company and food you cook for foodies and a third level too; food you hold in reserve for people who will appreciate and respect it. Today was one of those days. I had a whole hind quarter to cook and I did it long and slow. Lots of fresh veggies; carrots, onions, garlic, peppers, home grown apples. Fresh herbs; tarragon, sage, parsley sea salt and whole pepper corns. Pile it all up on a baking sheet and plunk it down on the grill. 7 hours on the grill at 300 F. Somewhere along the way it got soaked with an entire bottle of Merlot and one bottle of fat tire beer. Ah, the smell. A few crab apples placed directly on the grill to add flavor.

Along with dinner there was leek and roasted garlic soup, polenta and salami appetizers, wonderful cheese and olives that tasted like butter, a salad with super fresh veggies from the garden, corn bread that could have been for desert and to top it all off a tart cherry Demi Glace to pour over the meat. Lots of good wine and Flathead Cherry Coffee for a closer.

What a great group of people to share a special evening with. What made the evening so special? The last time I tried this, no women showed up! Why? The meat of choice for dinner? Bear, yes bear. If you were to poll all 11 people (I'm not counting myself), they loved it. Tender, juicy and full of flavor. Sometimes you like what's for dinner, sometimes what's for dinner likes you.