HERE’S THE winter solstice report, seven days late, on account of other things bearing down on me.
The pressure is obvious in this selfie I snapped while dashing along the surface of a neighboring quantum bubble. Gives you a sense of how relentlessly the demands of daily life are closing in on my much-better-looking self in a parallel universe. My much-better-dressed self, too.
With the leaky old truck back from Maine, the bride and I drove to a tree farm in West Greenwich and brought home a white fir native to the Cascades. Nice tree. It smells like tangerines when you crush a few needles between your fingers.
On the ride home from Maine, a Canadian fellow, Glen, from Hartland, New Brunswick, admired the old truck at a fuel stop. He used to ride British bikes, so we yakkety-yakked about motorcycles and blah dee blah. I gave him my card, told him there are photos of the long-ago truck restoration on the Nickels.
My address is on the card. Next thing I know, Glen mails us a balsam fir wreath for the front door. His company, Canada Calling, makes wreaths this time of year.
Mailbag!
You remember H and his younger brother, M, from here, and again here.
They sent me the best Christmas gifts ever. I even heard from their little sister this time. She introduced herself with a lovely watercolor of Minnie Mouse, and signed her Nickels code name at the lower right.
I’m starting to think M’s going to be an engineer, or maybe an airline pilot like his dad. Imagine how methodical, disciplined and organized he had to be to color this mosaic-like composition.
It would have taken me a week! Assuming I ever got past Thursday, when I’d be due to let out a pitiful wail and start stabbing myself in the head with a marker.
H sent me a 21-page comic he wrote and illustrated. It’s based on his interpretation of a video game called Shovel Knight. He sent his original art, too, not just copies.
I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s a collector’s item someday; when H is a famous writer, and I’m feebly resisting the tyranny of the nursing staff at the Old Scribblers’ Home.
I scanned a few non-consecutive pages for you at random…
The secret of life in a nutshell! Try to climb the tower, fall off… try to climb the tower, fall off… try to climb the tower…
My friend Bob made it home to British Columbia in time for Christmas. Bob had motorcycled around Australia for three months.
Bob and Janey’s backyard, in Tête Jaune Cache, BC, just north of Valemount.
Bob circumnavigated an entire continent and went flying out of the saddle only once. Good job!
And didn’t get hurt. Even better.
His tires were slightly aired down. Could have aired them down a bit more, he said.
On gravel a front wheel at paved-road pressure can slide out from under you in certain conditions—combination of conditions. If it does, the rear wheel wants to whip around and—Wheee, I can see my house from heeeeere—Splat!
Happened to me more than once in Labrador. I wasn’t aired down even a little. Didn’t have a pump with me to air back up, so…
It’s over before you know it’s happening… Hey, wasn’t I just riding a motorcycle around here somewhere?
Speaking of the piglet, I briefly entertained the idea of riding her to BC in February, by way of Yuma, Arizona. The bride’s flying to Yuma to visit her sister.
My idea was to leave the piglet with Bob and fly home to Little Rhody. That would preposition the bike nicely for any number of Arctic rides over the next several years, given that I’ve decided against unloading the piglet for short money in South America.
Bob strongly advised against riding BC in the winter, so I dropped the idea. February will be insanely cold, he said, and the road up from Kamloops is guaranteed to be icy.
Another winter view of Bob and Janey’s backyard. The air’s so clear! When I was there this summer the mountains were hidden behind smoke. There were wildfires burning everywhere in the American and Canadian west, 500 fires in BC alone.
My 3-year-old granddaughter was afraid bears would eat me, so she sent me a photo of herself making a scary face. I was to show it to the bears to drive them away.
When I told her it really worked she wasn’t anxious anymore about me sleeping out in the weeds.
To back up my story, I sent her a few pics of bear sign from Bob and Janey’s place; bear sign the bears had made on their way out of town, naturally.
Claw marks in tree bark…
A few strands of bear fur stuck in tree sap…
Like Bob, our friends from Kansas, Jim and Patty Marlett, were on the road photographing Australian wildlife recently. Dig how little the bears are down there.
Jim snapped this dolphin following their boat off the coast of New Zealand.
Any birders here? I’ll sign off with a few links to Jim and Patty’s recent travels.
They and others photographed 132 species sighted in four days in the Texas hill country.
And here, if you’re curious about New Zealand, are more than a dozen slideshows of pics Jim and Patty took there.
Tony DePaul, December 28, 2018, Cranston, Rhode Island, USA
Hoping you had a great Christmas and New Year’s Day.
While this Blog didn’t have any Phantom news, I just wanted to say I am really enjoying the current story line. It just might be one of your better stories to date.
‘F’ painting… interesting, maybe a future colorist?
‘H’ seems to really taken to writing and drawing his own comic.
‘M’ has a lot more Patience than I ever had. I would have maybe gotten one or two colors half way done and given up on it.
Well anyways, I hope your new year treats you fairly. Oh I’m sorry to say I never rode a Motorbike, never had the space to keep one and I moved so often, it just didn’t work out for me. Glad to hear your stories though.
Thanks for following the scribble, Allan. Yes, I think young H will probably write the Phantom when I’m haunting my urn.
M and H are sure fortunate to have you in their corner. Friends should be all ages, and you have figured this out! I’d say F is smart to join her brothers in making a friend of you, too. Your granddaughter’s picture and advice are priceless. The rest of your friends are cool, too!
Thanks, Cynthia. It’s true, there are so many interesting personalities flying around in the space & time we all inhabit. I feel lucky that our orbits intersect now and again.
Tangerines.. eh? You get the best. Ours smell like ten year old Pine-o-sol.
Great up date on the Phantom keeper and friends.
Have a great 2019.
By the way, we will be selling the condo you saw in Angel Fire, NM next summer. Found another, same size, but on one level. No more stairs for these old folks.
When we need stairs to mount our motorcycles, then we’re really shot, amigo.
Happy New Year to you and your family, Tony. If you ever need a picture of a guy looking scared so the bear has a new target, let me know.
My Bad Mr. Grizz spray expired five years ago. I haven’t decided yet whether the propellant actually degrades or the freshness date is just a gimmick; a ploy to monetize the “I prefer to live” position.
Tony:
Another great blog! I am off to Alaska next June. If you are up that way, we can camp, relive Labrador and share other war stories,
Duncan
I’m planning to greet the longest light of the year on Prudhoe Bay. There or Tuktoyaktuk.
I say come to Yuma anyway! Camp under the stars while it’s cool enough to enjoy it !
It’s tempting. Cabin fever really sets in about now.
Happy New Year, Tony. All the best for you and yours, and The Phantom you give all of us.
Thanks for following the scribble, Kjell. All the best to you & yours in 2019.
Well, sure there will be compact snow and ice up there in B.C., but you *could* stop short and leave the bitty piglet here where February is generally a bit wet, but rarely Wintery. Staging your bike for future adventures is a challenge for sure, happy to help where I can!
Funny, that thought did cross my mind, compadre. Another ride north on the PCH wouldn’t be bad.
What? Your face wasn’t scary enough on its own?
Haha! For black bears in & around Orono, maybe… for western bears it takes girl power.
Great rambling post. Happy New Year. Give my best to Pam.
Bonneville in 2019!