Thoughts on moving forward | In Memory of Warmer Summers

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Visible labors

Posted in Thoughts on moving forward on July 2, 2011| 4 Comments »

Chief Joseph Pass, MT to Hamilton, MT

Continental Divide crossings: 1

Total Divide crossings so far: 9

Miles: 64

Total miles so far: 3,742

The Bitterroot River as it flows north in the Bitterroot Valley

This is July 4th weekend. The holiday falls on a Monday, so all over the country there are big plans being put into play. While the nation celebrates, there are those who approach the date with a heavy heart.

I want to re-visit a topic I brought up a few days ago, regarding roadside memorials. Allow me to explain that I did not wish to photograph any of the many, many roadside memorials we have encountered on this journey. For the purpose of this blog, regardless of how intimate some of the posts I have written, I thought it intrusive that I use a memorial photo in this journal. That is…

...until I saw this one today.

At a wider angle, it looks like this.

Not only is this one freshly decorated, but the caretaker of this marker of the heart took the time, trouble, and tools to the site to mow the grass and decorate the cross with a red white and silver pinwheel on the top, a fresh teddy bear just below, new flowers, and the other decorations seen.

Let me also state that some of what I am going to say may seem a little bizarre, and if it does, thank God you are not in a position to understand. To understand is to know grief from unaccountable loss.

I should also state that I believe in Rule #1: It has been my observation that we do a terrible job in our culture when dealing with death, and grief in particular. So if this is bizarre to you, I can only say, let it go for now, and think about it as time goes on.

When Carlie was buried in the Rawlins cemetery, it was January and the earth was frozen. When frozen fill is used, it settles considerably in the spring when the frost comes out of the ground. The marker that was pictured in the Rawlins photos was placed too close to the fill used, and when spring came the marker began to collapse into the grave. There were other problems with the cemetery crew and this was too much for me. We had a meeting of the minds, and repairs were completed to stabilize things, but not to my satisfaction.

My solution was to take matters into my own hands. I got some nice topsoil, a soil tamper, and ordered some Kentucky Bluegrass sod. The tamper I used is a motorized unit, often referred to as a jumping jack tamper. It makes a lot of noise and attracts a lot of attention. I think that’s when the cemetery crew learned on their own to let me be. I tamped the soil, filled in and leveled the area with fertile topsoil, I placed new sod on the grave site and rigged a 50 gallon barrel in the back of my Jeep with a hose so I could go and water the sod frequently, not only until it took root, but on a regular basis thereafter.

Of course, that patch of turf grew faster than anything in the cemetery, so I would mow and trim the grass weekly, if not sooner.

I’d bet a month’s pay they were talking about me down at the local diner. Maybe they were consulting with local therapists to find out if someone should intervene. I hope not, because most therapists would want me committed (see Rule #1 above), but that’s for another topic.

Here’s the bottom line. This was excellent therapy for me. As bizarre as it may sound to the uninitiated, this was something I could do in a situation where I was otherwise quite helpless.

So…back to the caretaker of this site for Stephanie in Montana. I will publish the pictures I have here of your work. My guess is the fresh signs of attention may be related to the upcoming holiday, and to the extent that you went to tidy things up, I think I can say I cannot image what it is like for you, but I know what it was like for me, and you have my sympathy and my respect.

Please…everyone have a safe and enjoyable Independence Day as we move forward past yet another marker on the calendar of our hearts, and perhaps elsewhere too.

Looking behind us as we travel north through the Bitterroot Valley

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Tomorrow’s ride is dedicated to Jeffery Vale Anderson

Jeffery Vale Anderson

Jeffery Anderson was a Sheriff’s Deputy for the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department. His hometown in California was Lancaster. On April 28, 1984, Jeff was off-duty driving with his fiance, and was killed in a motor vehicle collision with a drunk driver. His fiance was critically injured. The collision took place one month before they were to get married.

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Markers of the heart

Posted in Living the life, Thoughts on moving forward on June 29, 2011| 1 Comment »

Ennis, MT to Twin Bridges, MT

Miles: 46

Total so far: 3,559

The Madison Range is in the background as we climb up out of the Madison River valley.

We wanted to make it into Dillon, Montana today for a ride of about 73 miles, but the winds kicked up and pinned us down in Twin Bridges. Gusts were up beyond 46 miles per hour, and we were doing well as long as we were north bound, but at Twin Bridges we need to turn south-west, right into the teeth of that wind. The bikes, loaded with the panniers on the front and rear, have the aerodynamics of refrigerator boxes, so we chose to camp at Twin Bridges rather than fight the wind into Dillon.

Twin Bridges, Montana's offer to Trans-Am cyclists

The town of Twin Bridges set up a “Bike Camp” at a rest area, complete with showers, bathroom, a shelter, and sinks, all for the purpose of helping cyclists on the Trans-Am. We pitched our tents and made ourselves at home (we are becoming experts at getting tents up in raging winds).

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Today we went by a roadside marker where someone was killed in a crash. This one was constructed of colorful material and patterns made into a cross. These markers adorn our roads all over the country.

These are important places to us, something that remains difficult to explain to those who have not experienced a sudden traumatic loss. The places where loved ones die are visited for a number of reasons, not the least of which, people are trying to explain the unexplainable. We try to understand that which is impossible to understand, and we look for our answers anywhere we can, including there on the roadside.

Just as we could never pass by the places where our lives changed so dramatically without thinking of the significance of the events, we are also moved to mark these places with personal objects. All over the country, state agencies become concerned with these, and many have standardized the placement of authorized markers. The state agency authorized markers are being created with the best of intentions, but like the marker I saw today, do they represent the true markers of the heart?

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Tomorrow’s ride is dedicated to Andrea Vaughn Rieger

Andrea Vaughn Rieger

Coming home from skiing and enjoying time with friends, Andrea was killed in a collision with a drunk driver. Andrea, from Big Sky, Montana was 28 years old.

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A river runs through it

Posted in Friends made on the road, Living the life, Thoughts on moving forward on June 28, 2011| 2 Comments »

Hebgen Lake Dam, MT to Ennis, MT

Friendly horn taps: 1

Miles: 50

Total so far: 3,513

The Madison River at Earthquake Lake. The mountain to the left sheared off in an earthquake and dammed the river.

We’ve been following the Madison River since Wyoming, and today we followed it all the way into Ennis, Montana. This morning, leaving the Hebgen Lake Dam area, we went downstream on the Madison to Earthquake Lake where in 1959 an earthquake hit the area that measured 7.5 on the Richter scale, dropping a whole side of a mountain into the Madison River Canyon, causing a natural dam of the river. The sudden flooding was massive and many lives were lost.

At about the same time we were adjacent to the lake, we met up with Ryan, from

Ryan, going to Astoria, Oregon also

near Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Ryan is doing the traditional Trans-Am from Virginia to Astoria, Oregon. When we introduced ourselves, he said he’d been hearing of a brother/sister team going from Florida to Oregon. Ryan got to know Julie and her partner David before David abandoned the ride, and he’d been travelling with others that we’ve either met or heard about about over the weeks and months.

A community has formed. Binding us together is the route, whether we are east-bound or west-bound, some of the same goals are lining up as to ending points, pace of riding, riding style, and even splitting the cost of accommodations, be it camping or stopping at hotels. However we are bound, as though moving on a river.

Some of the original groups have splintered as the distances build, the miles accumulate, fatigue sets in and tempers get the best of folks. Still, there remains the binding element of the route. They may not finish together, they may fracture and finish another time, but the goal is to finish. For all of us.

Those whose lives have been affected by the preventable crime of drunk driving are a community also. We are bound together by our worst nightmares coming to life, by poor decisions, and criminal behaviors that have taken something from us. We may not know each of our members, but we have a vehicle to seek common ground. Mothers Against Drunk Driving. The organization is formed from people affected and acts on behalf of those affected by the preventable, criminal acts of others. This is our river. Please consider supporting us.

A closer view of the mountainside that came down forming the lake

Montana. Sallie says it looks like pictures of Switzerland here.

Looking east, away from the Madison River

The Madison River as it goes by Ennis, Montana. The snow run-off has muddied the water some down this low.

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Tomorrow’s ride is dedicated to Jeremiah James Newman

Jeremiah James Newman

Jeremiah Newman, from Heron, Montana was killed in a motor vehicle collision involving a drunk driver. Jeremiah was 28 years old.

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Of baseballs and the wonder of a child

Posted in The mental challenge, The physical challenge, Thoughts on moving forward on June 22, 2011| 4 Comments »

Rawlins, WY to Jeffery City, WY

Friendly horn taps: 6

Rude horn honks: 1

Continental Divide crossings: 2

Total Divide crossings: 4

Miles: 69

Total so far: 3,136

The sky today near Lamont, Wyoming

For obvious reasons, we don’t see much television. That’s not unusual for either one of us in our normal lives, so we are not missing anything. The other day, I saw part of a news broadcast, possibly a Denver station, wherein they showed a video of a fly ball going into the stands at a stadium and waiting to catch the ball just as it bounced off a railing was a young girl of about nine years old. The ball came right to her and just as she was about to get it, a woman (maybe in her forties) snatched the ball from the little girl’s hands, turned to her friends and they began a series of high five celebrations while the dejected little girl did an about face and went up the stairs out of the camera shot.

I thought about that today as we left Rawlins. I took Carlie to a Denver Rockies game when she was about three years old. We got there early and while in our seats during batting practice, a ball was hit into the stands behind us. Somehow we didn’t notice, and the ball ricocheted around a bit and rolled under our seats and parked itself behind Carlie’s leg. Ball recovered, I thought that was a treat.

The Rockies had a mascot named Dinger , a big dinosaur looking creature, that was not unlike the appearance of one of Carlie’s favorites, Barney the purple dinosaur.

Dinger came out on the field and began circling the wall below the stands towing a wagon. I carried Carlie down to the wall as he approached, and the kids at the ball park were swarming in front of Dinger, as he was throwing T-shirts and other items up in the stands. By the time Dinger got to us, it’s wagon was nearly empty. The mascot looked in Carlie’s direction, looked into the wagon and took something out with his hands cupped and reached up to Carlie. Dinger gave her a baseball, signed by the entire team.

The last few days have been emotional. In our state of constantly challenging the limits of our abilities, there is a fine line between what is manageable and what tips the scales into overload.

When Sallie and I left the cemetery this morning, I said, “Let’s go see Montana.” It was my way of saying it’s time to move forward.

I agonize over Carlie’s death every day. I am not immune from that by any means. I prefer however to think of baseballs and this little child that charmed a dinosaur.

Rock formations near Split Rock, WY

A view of the Great Divide Basin as we came off Rendle Hill.

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Tomorrow’s ride is dedicated to Johnathon Ferguson

Johnathon Ferguson

In Loving Memory of Johnathon Ferguson a life lost by a drunk driver.

October 21, 1985 – October 2, 2005. Forever in our hearts!

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Twisting in the wind

Posted in Somber thoughts, The mental challenge, The physical challenge, Thoughts on moving forward on June 21, 2011|

Saratoga, WY to Rawlins, WY

Friendly horn taps: 3

Miles: 51

Miles so far: 3,067

Yes, they do place these every five miles on I-80

I feel better now that I’ve showered. It’s been a rough day in many ways, some bittersweet, some just plain rough. The day started fine with a break in the weather, the forecast of blue skies and warmer temperatures was welcome, but there would be west wind going into Rawlins. This would double up the challenge as there is a thirteen mile stretch ahead of us on Interstate 80, dead into the wind – it’s the only way to get there from here.

Carlie is buried in Rawlins. We had been in Rawlins for the preceding three years. At the time of the crash, she was in kindergarten at the Rawlins Elementary School. I was a division supervisor with the highway patrol. Through the years as I thought of this trip, I knew the Trans-Am went through Rawlins, in fact, the riders go right by the cemetery.

I thought for a very long time that if I ever did this ride, I would pitch my tent by her grave. This is something not everyone can understand. I’m aware of that. Bereaved parents have such ideas – remember, we live in a “new normal” that is anything but normal.

I placed a request with the chief of police of the Rawlins Police Department five days ago and I called him again this morning, and finally got to speak with him. He denied my request. This was quite an unexpected blow. Trans Am riders are hosted by towns all across the country with invitations to stay in their city parks, and I had not anticipated being denied, particularly since this man knows me quite well and knows why I made this unusual request. I guess it was particularly tough because that phone call was placed first thing in the morning, and that did not contribute to a pleasant start to the day. As in all things, we’ll adapt to this and move forward.

Nonetheless, we started out and Sallie was struggling. She’s not been feeling well. The ride has us pushing ourselves physically right to the limits and we’ve both noticed that it’s quite easy to have added stress push us overthe red-line. We resolved to a slow ride that was not going to be very long, but would prove difficult – particularly pushing a head wind on Interstate 80.

On the positive side, I received word today that Ray LaHood, the U.S. Secretary of Transportation has recognized our efforts in this cross country bicycle attempt in his US DOT blog, Fastlane. This is quite an unexpected honor, and I continue to be surprised and humbled by the attention and support we are receiving.

We checked into a campground upon arriving in Rawlins. The young lady behind the desk asked me if I’d stayed there before as she said, “I looked very familiar.” I explained that I lived here several years ago and then mentioned I was a state trooper. That seemed to ring a bell with her and ultimately, she had a moment of recognition. She told me she recognized me from the documentary that was done about my daughter’s crash. She started crying and tried to apologize. I told her she was extremely brave to bring it up, as many people might not be willing to mention it. The two of us shared a few tears. She’s one year older than Carlie would have been.

The following are images from today. There are no captions.

Sometimes words fail me…

Tomorrow’s ride is dedicated to Gene Bucklin

My dad, Gene Bucklin, was “the rock” of our family—unbreakable and solid. He always had your back. You could count on Dad to be there through thick and thin.