I Survived the Sonic Boom!

Logan, Utah has one of the sickest rides ever. And to think I almost didn't go on the ride. My manhood wouldn't have allowed that though. The ride looks like a cheap barrel mounted on a 300 odd foot pole. The rider sits in the barrel with another rider for a thrill to remember. Once at the top the riders have 10 seconds to admire the scenery at 300-400 feet in the air. Anxiously they wait to plummet to their death. A straight free fall from 300-plus feet in a barrel with no brakes. Yeah, you read that right, no brakes. So what stops the barrel from crashing into the ground and crushing the passengers inside? Air pressure. This weekend I was saved by chemistry.

The Low Down

I’m taking a break from my “love for Utah” series to give anybody who is interested a little update as to what is going on in my life. The simple truth is that I have a hard time, for whatever reason, keeping in touch with friends, family, and everyone else if I’m not in close contact with them on a regular basis. I mention this as a sort of an apology. I can’t say it will change, it’s my own neurosis (not to mention the many delusions of grandeur), but if you feel like I have alienated you I am sincerely sorry. This new blog is an attempt to make amends and let you into the deepest darkest corners of my life…

Alright, alright, so I lied. Everything here will basically be superficial. My deepest darkest thoughts are too intense, too personal, and too R-rated to share in an open blog. But if you happened to have read on I must admit I will be locking my doors and windows in fear of stalkers like you. Really, inside and out, nothing really too exciting. Regardless, as I promised, with no further ado, the most superficial layers of my life:

I recently started a new job after a summer of being funemployed. I waited all summer for a job in retail. Let me just say this, it seemed like a good idea at the time. I have spent six months of my life in retail. That’s it. I’m not a salesman. People make me anxious and nervous. Apparently I like to torture myself. Fortunately I love what REI is and stands for. For a long time I have wanted to get more involved in outdoor activities and people who share similar interests. I am far from pro in anything outdoors (I could hardly be called a novice in most of these things). Along with a dozen other positives of joining the REI team I saw a potential for getting more involved with what could be an opportunity for a lifetime of adventure and activity. Another quite mentionable item is the sweet deals I’ll be getting…or would be getting, if I had money. Regardless, I will be taking advantage of deals and perks. Unfortunately, I must take the time to say: Please don’t ask me to give you deal or hook you up. I cannot and will not. I really wish it were like high school but I kind of want to see where this job takes me so please don’t tempt me. As a lighter note, if you’d like sweet deals on gear sign up to be a member of the co-op and find out about the sweet garage sales and sales. (That’s my plug for REI. I’ll expect the check in the mail!). All in all, REI, thus far, seems like a decent place to work. Maybe I’ll stick around for a while…

In other news, I am once again attending school. In case you didn’t hear, I have once again changed my major. This time I think it’ll actually stick. That’s the idea anyway. I have officially declared Parks, Recreation, and Tourism as my major. It was something I should have done a long time ago; I was simply mistaking my true desires out of life. With an emphasis in Adventure and Outdoor Programming it should make for a life of fun and adventure. As part of the degree I am required to take classes such as rock climbing, kayaking, and classes from NOLS. Yeah, this is something I should have started at the beginning of my college career.

Apparently it is too hard for me to resist a good Utah plug. So I spent the weekend down in southern Utah as I have the last several Labor Day weekends. Before I even made it down to Cedar City the party started at the Lowder residence featuring the Grey Dogs. Shaun and I headed down south early Saturday morning to meet up with Perkins and “The Fat Tire Posse”, as they like to be called, to enjoy the beautiful weather up in Brianhead. At first the scene up at Brianhead looked crowded and overwhelming with hardcore bikers. Throughout the day, however, the trails were clear and we only had a few obstacles to clear. It was a fantastic day of riding. I must admit, though, I really need to find a way to let go of fear when I do these things. But that’s a discussion for another day. Once off the mountain we hit up the local Chili’s and watched Utah football almost give away the game in the ‘Big House”. They pulled through and then I turned my attention to the BYU game. The day was like a day in heaven. The next day was another glorious day. It started with a photo shoot and lunch with the gang at Winger’s; which normally wouldn’t be anything more than lunch but these guys are hilarious and I was laughing through the whole lunch. Basically the whole weekend was full of laughter. Anyway, after lunch we hit the dirt road to Toquerville Falls for a little “cliff” jumping and swimming. (The cliff is only 10-15 feet high and the water is only 6 feet deep, if that, but is still a sweet secluded spot). The night continued on with laughter and fun, thanks in large part to our gracious host Amber. Without her allowing us to crash on her couches we would have been stinky and cold! Finally, the Labor Day tradition lives on! Despite several flash flood warnings we hiked Kanaraville like we have for the last four years and lived to tell about it. Despite all the rain northern Utah received Labor Day weekend we only saw a few drops on our way down from Brianhead. All in all, it was another successful Labor Day weekend. Thanks to everyone that made it possible!

**Pictures will be added to this post later. I promise!

The Glories of Utah (Part III)--Finally with Pics!

And that’s only the back story to my once hidden love affair of all things Utah. Okay, so I may have gotten carried away, for there is still plenty in Utah that I would be happy to see done away with. That, however, is for another day. More importantly, the immense diversity of southern Utah is waiting to have its share of the limelight. What better place to begin than the peculiar Cedar City? I say peculiar due to its strange identity crisis (not nearly as bad, however, as the identity crisis Puerto Rico faces). I suppose that can be blamed by the Institute of Higher Education so conveniently placed in the middle of this mild mannered farm town. Farmers and Shakespeare…Who knew?

A Typical Day in Cedar City

Let me say this as one of the top reasons I love Utah so much: Just about anywhere I live in Utah I can be within a fifteen to thirty minute drive of one or more canyons. Cedar City was no different. In this case it was more like a five minute drive (really it only takes about five minutes to get anywhere in Cedar City). It was not long after arriving in Cedar City that I feel in love with the Dixie National Forest. One of my first experiences with the striking wilderness nearing Cedar City brought me to Cedar Breaks. I happened to be chilling in my dorm when some girls I had not met invited friends and I up the canyon. They were providing pizza. I can never thank pizza enough. In times like these I can be a little antisocial. I silently ate my pizza and stared into the natural amphitheatre as if the hoodoos were putting on a play just for me. The stunning views of Cedar Breaks only left me to wonder what other beauties were to be found in these canyons. Ultimately, I would not be disappointed.

Cedar Canyon, as I call it, probably mistakenly, is extremely glorious in itself. The drive up to Cedar Breaks National Monument made that very apparent to me. Sunday drives there were unbeatable. At any time if I needed to get away a short drive would take me into the canyon. There I had a couple of spots I would climb to-often in the dark and not knowing how I would get down-just to think in solitude. Other occasions called for friends and good times. Camping trips were as good there as anywhere else. Outdoor activities were never out of reach and the canyons were often utilized.

Eventually, a full moon would grace us with its presence. It was time to “goop the loop”. With dates, my friends and I made the late night drive to hike the loop in Bryce Canyon. Apparently, this was a tradition of some sort and how it got its name is still unbeknownst to me. Hiking in southern Utah under the shadow of the moon is an experience not to be missed. The moon shadow accompanied with the noises of the night and the sunless crisp mountain air brought a unique feeling, which neared spooky, as we crossed into shadows of rock formations and wildlife. Maybe it was the unsociable state of mind I fell into at nature’s hand that caused my date to become so bored that she no longer spoke with but rather gabbed with her friend, my friend’s date, for the rest of the night. Either way I was left enjoying what nature intended.

Bryce Canyon National Park is just as magnificent during the day as it is during the night. Unimaginable rock formations litter the canyon. Thousands and thousands of hoodoos have made this red canyon their home. The effects of interactional chaos amongst Captain Planet’s alter egos and time are dramatically displayed for visitors, world over, to gawk at. Ebenezer Bryce wasn’t joking when he said it was a “helluva place to lose a cow”. Anybody up for a game of hide and go seek?

As spring and summer fade to fall and winter the green landscape of Cedar City and its nearby wilderness fade as fall foliage springs to life with vibrant colors for a short time. Mother Nature’s pallet of water color slowly merge as colors are at first exuberant but quickly merge into a monochrome of brown. In effort to start over the pallet is flushed and white again. Dreadful as it is at times winter in Utah can be enjoyed. Fortunately, even in southern Utah. See, just a little northeast of Cedar City lays a little known, little attended ski resort called Brian Head. Enjoying snowboarding but not the costs of it I found Brian Head to be the perfect little resort to hit up at least a couple times a season. Not to mention, Brian Head offers ski bike rentals. Yep, you heard me right, ski bikes. Furthermore, for the young at heart, Brian Head hosts a snowtube adventure like no other with its snow tubing park. Just be careful. Finally, when Mother Nature reorganizes her painter’s pallet with greens and yellows and pinks and purples Brian Head makes for an excellent mountain biking adventure and apparently a terrifically challenging disc golf course. All this at Utah’s surprisingly highest elevation ski resort: in a region of the globe not usually known for its snow, the southwest United States.

Ski Bikes at Brian Head

Mischief & Mayhem

Hidden gems are abundant in southern Utah. Unpopulated hiking trails were plentiful; sometimes even leading to unnamed arches. Biking trails, such as the “C trail”, named after the mountainside C, which appropriately stands for Cedar City. (Which is, by the way, another reason I love Utah: It’s really hard to get lost here. Mountainside letters tell you what city you’re in or near. The streets follow a grid system. North, south, east, and west are easily distinguishable by opposing natural landscape). Bonfires and shooting guns were one of many favorite pastimes in Cedar City with ample spots to reek havoc without burning the forest down or causing too much damage. A few of my favorite hidden gems have to include the Parowan Gap, Kanaraville, and Toquerville Falls. The first of which, the Parowan Gap, was an ideal spot to take a date. Unfortunately, I can’t remember the “scary” story to go along with the destination. Regardless, the Parowan gap is a spectacular site as it is a result of a rare occurrence in nature, a wind gap. Additionally, the Parowan Gap is also known for its significant hieroglyphics contained on the gap’s walls. Kanaraville, as we move one, has become a traditional Labor Day hike for a select group of us. Hiking upstream though a small river and slot canyons leads us to natural water slides and ice cold waterfalls. Never a downer Kanarville will always be full of good memories with nature and friends. Lastly, the hidden gem of Toquerville requires a truck, or a SUV, at least it is suggested. Cars have made attempts, some have succeeded, in the end; however, it can’t be good for the car. Anyway, a descent drive down a rugged dirt road would take us to a dazzling network of small waterfalls that eventually form a swimming hole and then a river. The waterfalls create an excellent place to play, swim, cliff jump, and hike in the summer heat. Hidden gems are best when remain hidden. Now exposed to you, please enjoy responsibly.

Parowan Gap

Three Pictures of Kanaraville

*Sorry, I couldn't figure out how to get the captions directly under the pictures. I am definetly not a pro-blogger!

The Glories of Utah (Part II)

Gratitude must also be given for the fact that I belonged to an organization that emphasized developing character and personal fitness through activity in the outdoors and in the community. Participating in the Boys Scouts of America was encouraged in my family. Although I whined and fussed at times concerning my parents’, namely my father’s, insistence on my participation in the Boy Scouts I thoroughly enjoyed and looked forward to campouts and adventures. Viewing the reels of my Boy Scout past I can strongly say that outside of the home and church the Boy Scouts of America was the most influential institution in shaping the person I have become today and the person I will be in the future. Utah is truly a haven for the Boy Scouts to teach young men the joys of the outdoors with an endless variety of natural tools to teach the programs objectives. Through the Boy Scouts I was able to gain a love for camping in the true sense of the word: Everything one needed was to be packed in a pack to be hauled into the campsite a few miles away from the cars and in the end everything was to be packed back out leaving not a trace that anyone had even been there. Even with all the experience my family had camping I cannot begin to claim we were the best or brightest campers. My brothers and I had a reputation of burning shoes, socks, shirts, and even ourselves during campouts. This was only necessary because we often found these things wet, like, for instance, the time I lost my sleeping bag in Tibblefork Reservoir. Furthermore, purposefully or not I found myself too often with fewer than one corner left of both my firemanship card and my toteinchip(sp?) card. I guess it was safer to keep me away from fires and shard objects!

My father finally got what was coming to him for pushing Boy Scouts on us. After years of counting beans as his church service he was recently assigned the role of Scout Master. It’s only fitting for before he was even involved in the scouts he was leading my brothers and I on backpacking trips that would last anywhere from three to seven days. I remember my feelings about the first one I went on quite vividly. I must have been 13 or 14 years old. Dad planned a 3 day trip that seemed relatively easy. My mother dropped us off at the trailhead, as was the custom, and we were sent on our way packin’. I was excited but worried I would not be able to keep up with my older brothers. My worries quickly turned into fear as I peered up the trail. Ahead of us the trail took a sharp incline up the face of the mountain. Surely, this was a joke. The joke was overplayed and lasted the whole day. Somehow I was convinced to go the next year and the next. Over the years I even grew to love the cold crisp early morning mountain air; camping by a river with the sound of rushing water the provided us with a fresh meal that brought us praising the fact that we could forgo at least one MRE meal; not to mention the vast solitude of being there with our small group and the nearest person or population was miles and miles away, unreachable by nearly any other means than by foot. The Uinta and Wasatch Mountain ranges were typical destinations for these little adventures. Their backcountry beauty is awe-inspiring, so much so it invokes a person to a point where one will find him or herself leaving the simple, and complex, conveniences of modern life to enjoy its beauty and solitude, at least for a short time, time and time again. With this being said, a little shout out is appropriate for my father for organizing those trips and to the other adults who assisted came along along with my brothers and our many friends who joined us. Even amidst the occasional pain, injuries, and lost wanderings we made it home alive and better for going. I thank you all that made those experiences possible.

Another shout out is now in order. Nathan Hansen and family introduced me to one of my favorite places in the entire world: Lake Powell. I’ll also have you know, Hansen family, that I am ruined for life now because I don’t know if Lake Powell can ever be as fantastic as it was with your family. And now that I have been I long to go back at times and sometimes it’s just not possible and so I cry. Just remember, those tears are because of you! I love southern Utah for so many reasons and Lake Powell has to top the list. In all the places I’ve been and all the places I have camped out never have I seen a night sky that is comparable to the night sky I enjoyed in awe laying on top of the houseboat in Lake Powell. Rarely did I know a name of a constellation but that did not matter for Grant would have the answers for me. And when he was not answering our ponderings concerning the stars a melody would play from his harmonica. Early mornings, when the party animals from other boats were still sleeping off their hangovers, provided a lake of glass: Conditions ideal for skiing, wakeboarding, or knee-boarding. Lake Powell may not have been the site of my introduction to water skiing or wakeboarding but it was definitely the place I developed a certain affinity for it. A floating house, bath tub like water, friends, boats, cliffs and more make Lake Powell an unforgettable memory for me. Even though I found myself being pulled away after a nap on an intertube certain to be heading towards my inevitable death I have nothing bad to say about Lake Powell. Sadly, I have not been back to this favorite place of mine more than twice. Once more with the Hansen family and a third time to camp, which I must confess during which something felt missing…

The Glories of Utah (Part I)

I realize that to many of you it will seem crazy and absurd to you that I would post a blog concerning the many joys and glories of living in Utah. Considering I was always the kid that would have given anything to escape this so called "barren wasteland" such a blog is ludicrous. I had a whole list of reasons: Some reasonable, some unreasonable, and some personal. Eventually I would grow out of that phase and would realize the Mecca for outdoor fun that Utah was and that I was not taking advantage of its goodness.

Over the years I have found ways to leave my hometown and my home state for “greener grass”. Some experiences turned out positive and others not so positive. I could go on about the memories I created and the friendships that will last beyond my departure, not to mention the trouble I got into. However, the point I want to stress is that I always came back to my Utah home. Not always happily and not always purposefully; regardless of the attitude soul, body, and mind always made it back. And now, in retrospect, I cannot, for the life of me, recall a dull, uneventful, pointless, meaningless, boring Utah summer. If nothing else I have that simple fact to hold on to as I consider the offerings of this great state.
Growing up in Utah, and namely in Utah County, I rarely found myself more than an half hour away from open mountainous land. American Fork Canyon just laid to the southeast and Provo Canyon to the southeast. Not to mention for a quick trip to trouble and fun friends and I just had to head five minutes east, up the foothills into Dry Canyon. Many days and nights were spent in these mountains and canyons. American Fork Canyon, above Tibblefork Reservoir, held one of our (or at least mine) favorite camping spots right along a river. Provo River was the site of some memorable tubing trips as well as some great catches for a trout dinner. Before it was developed, the hills just east of my home held some of our favorite “diggin’” routes. Many a night friends and I would, in attempt to woo the ladies, end up in any one of those canyons, and a handful of others, with a fire, some marshmallows and Starbursts, and of course the ostentatious guitar. And that’s not all: Just a short drive west from my childhood home brought us to the cesspool we call Utah Lake, which is far worse than the fictional Lake Springfield which produces three eyed fish and the like. Regardless of the toxic waste that embodies Utah Lake I found myself not only boating in the cesspool but also wading through its stench at a feeble attempt to spear fish and swimming in the lake as I assuredly swallowed a gulp or two (which actually explains my super human powers…). Of course this is only a brief synopsis of the joys that filled my early life; brief and within close proximity of my childhood home. And of course I can’t go on to describe the trouble my friends and I got in to (there may be some sensitive parents that catch wind!), and there is no chance I will confess the identity of the friend that started that forest fire…

I thank the Good Lord I wasn’t born five to ten years later when television and video games began to dominate the lives of the young. Granted, the phase was beginning but it never completely captivated my friends and me. We always had enough options or if all else failed we created our own fun with the resources we had, of which, as I just said, we had enough options. A fine little cycle we had. When boredom sunk in or variety was sought we could occasionally find ourselves at Seven Peaks Waterpark—Utah’s largest Waterpark (I’ll be expecting my free season pass in the mail Seven Peaks!), Classic Skating in Orem, University Mall, Scera Shell, or one of the nearby public pools. All in all, rarely did we have to resort to mindless video games and TV watching to keep ourselves entertained. Sure it happened now and then, but for the majority of the time we found ourselves out and about enjoying one of the 300+ sunny summer days Utah offers every year.

*I originally planned for this to be one blog and then I got carried away. I soon realized that I wanted to write so much more than originally planned. And truly, to give Utah the respect and admiration it deserves it will require two or more parts. Furthermore, this blog has seemed to take a chronological approach, therefore, as the memories become more and more recent more vivid detail will surely be included. I hope to, in the near future, collect pictures to include in the proceeding blogs of the series as well as to add to this blog. In the meanwhile bear with me and the emptiness of my page. Finally, if you have a particular memory that you fell I have or may leave out please comment so or email me and I will appreciate the reminder of such fond memories. Thanks for reading!

Addendum to: Muchas gracias Mexico. ¡Estoy satisfecho!

Here's the deal: If you read my blog about the wonders of authentic Mexican food be ye warned that it may have side effects! I will spare all of you the details but know this: You may experience unhealthy bowel movements for the next several weeks after enjoying a succulent Mexican taco al pastor. The FCC won't even let me include pictures to accompany this adventure! You should all be thankful for that! I don't want anyone coming back and blaming me for recommending the glories of Mexican food!

Muchas gracias Mexico. ¡Estoy satisfecho!

Do you remember those Herbal Essence shampoo commercial? You know, the one with the girl in the shower making a ruckus. That is precisely the experience I have when I eat authentic, down to the corn tortilla, Mexican food. My mouth has peaked multiple times in one sitting and innumerous times in one day. Bursts of complimenting flavors are introduced into my mouth simultaneously creating a rare, and yet, very profound eating experience.

I must admit, it has been great to have a friend to find the right restaurants and tell me what to order. Otherwise, I may have had a totally different experience altering my perception completely. We didn't have to look hard for our first meal upon arriving in Mexico. The friends we were staying with happened to have a lot of family in town for the week. It seems to me for any Mexican family gathering there is food, beer, tequila, and a damn good time. Immediately we were taken care of. I don't everything that was in that first meal but I had my first taste of food heaven. I was served a bowl of rice and a bowl of a meat concoction with potatoes, tomatoes, and a sort of saucy soupy mix. On the side were tortillas and pico de gallo. Poor description but love at first taste is meaningless to the outsider. Later that night I had a fresh mango. O-mazing! Now I have had mango before but not this fresh and not this tasty. Sprinkle a little tajin on the fruit and wow more flavor than one untrained mouth can handle! And the mangos are cheap! And that was only the beginning…

Now I could go through each days eating itinerary but that would be nearly as painful for the ready as if I were to describe every juicy kiss in a passionate romance. Let me just say this: The tacos are better in Mexico, the fruit is better in Mexico, the seafood is amazing in Mexico horchatas and tortas make an excellent combination, not to mention the cheese crepes (I forget what they are called) are a perfect combination of sweet and salty, and the Doritos are the best I have ever had. A little more about the Doritos: We stopped at a gas station during one of our many mini-excursions and Doritos were just calling my name, as they often do. I picked up a big of nacho cheese Doritos expecting the normal goodness of nacho cheese Doritos. But boy were my taste buds in for a surprise…one bite and…bam!...I was shocked with a taste I was not familiar with. These were not the Doritos I knew and loved. These were something far better, far tastier, and far more satisfying! The cheese was cheesier, the chip crispier, and to top it off they threw in not a hint, but an explosion of chilies and spices. Honestly, I think I barely scrapped the surface of what Mexico has to offer food lovers.

In closing let me say this: I love food and it's apparent. I have always enjoyed what I have known to be Mexican food. So much so my friends and I decided to tour every Mexican restaurant in Cedar City, which had nearly twenty Mexican restaurants at the time. Not an amazing feat but tasty feat, nonetheless. Overall, however, we found these restaurants to be strikingly similar on the menus and on the taste buds. Casa Don Miguel stood out as the sure winner. But I have moved on from Cedar City and now I'm scared to go back to eating what America calls Mexican food. Hell, most Mexicans have no idea what a chimichanga is! My point is this: If anybody knows where an authentic Mexican food joint in Salt Lake is I would love to join your secret society, so please fill me in!

Por último, muchas gracias Mexico. ¡Estoy satisfecho!

¡No llores por mí, Puerto Rico!

¡No llores por mí, Puerto Rico! Don't cry for me Puerto Rico!

My time here has come to an end. It is sad, and yet, it is time. Puerto Rico has offered me more than I ever imagined. I managed to find adventure and joy in so many aspects of life here from Puerto Rican cuisine to Puerto Rican transportation. And although mofongo is not my favorite dish I am still intrigued by the staple plantains (essentially a large banana) has become here and in so many forms! To swim with sharks and turtles and sting rays freely was a breathtaking experience. I even managed to snap a picture of one of the turtles! The visually stimulating architecture of Old San Juan took me back in time and yet I was quickly brought back to reality with a hug from a stinky homeless man that became an imbedded part of my memory of Old San Juan. I will leave here with stories to pass on to grandchildren should they ever come. For instance, the time I managed to find myself in a crack house in a ghetto in Fajardo with a crackwhore prostitute and ended up hitch hiking home after several hours of wandering around a scary neighborhood where they rarely saw gringos with little to no Spanish. (And mom if you happen to read this no I did not do drugs and no to anything else you might wonder about this peculiar situation). As Puerto Rico strived and continues to strive to find its identity between its Spanish and Caribbean roots and its United States ownership I managed to find a piece of mine. Along the way I learned a lot about myself, like I need a lot more surfing lessons, for example, and I can effectively manage and run a store and produce positive results. Above all, my love and need to travel has grown. Not to mention I finally decided on a major while I was here: Parks, Recreation, and Tourism with an emphasis in Adventure and Outdoor Programming. Although I am sad to leave the sun, the beaches, and the ocean I look forward to summer in Utah and finishing school (sometime before I'm 30...I hope!).

Before I actually do make it home to the Beehive State I have a couple of stops to make. First stop: Cancun, Mexico. This time, however, it is not for the sandy beaches. I am drawn to the ancient Mayan ruins of Chichen Itza and Tulum. I am sure, nonetheless, that I will spend at least a little time on the beach. And thanks to a friend of my friend and co-manager here in Puerto Rico Devin we have a couch to sleep on (or at least a piece of the floor)! The anticipation for Cancun is driving me mad! Adventure awaits…

True to my nature, after Mexico I am still not ready to return to my home state. For some reason several of my friends, and a brother, have migrated to the Phoenix area of Arizona with their families. It would only be right for me to stop there on my way home. It is on the way, and it would be a shame to just fly over it. Furthermore, if I am to remain my niece’s favorite uncle I need to bring her gifts from Puerto Rico!


So to my friends in Puerto Rico: Thank you for the wonderful fun, joy, smiles, and memories you created for me while I was with you (that last phrase is credited to Del Sol, please don’t sue me!). Thank you for sharing your culture with me and trying to teach me Spanish (I’m sorry I was a bad student!). I will miss all of you! And to my future friends in Mexico: Thank you for giving me this opportunity to visit and giving me somewhere to hang my hat for a couple of nights. Financially it probably would not be possible without you. So thank you. To my friends and family in Arizona: I look forward to seeing all of you soon. I wish I could stay longer but responsibilities lay waiting. And don’t worry Jaylee I will come bearing gifts! Finally to my friends and family back at home: I thought about many of you often. Your friendships and love is something I missed. It really becomes a part of a person and one longs for it as I did. Eight months turned out to be five and I couldn’t be happier. To my recollection I have never had a dull summer in Utah. Anyone that wants to go hiking, camping, fishing, biking, backpacking, swimming, canoeing, cliff diving, or just want to have fun DO NOT HESITATE TO CALL. I will do my best to find a job that allows me enough freedom to go play with you. It is not too typical for me to get bogged down with work so I will drop anything I can to take that roadtrip, throw that evening BBQ, or take that midnight swim, you name it. I am going to have an awesome summer, so please join me! I will be waiting for your call!

Have I said too much?

There's nothing more I can think of to say to you.

But all you have to do is look at me to know

That every word is true

New Twist to Old Blogs

Unfortunately (or should I say fortunately?) I am not a seasoned blogger and as of right now I have nothing to blog about. Rather than leaving my blog page bare and dull I decided to follow the example of my longtime hero, Uncle Rico, and reminisce on how awesome I was in the past. And unlike Uncle Rico, I am no longer cool with my adventures coming to an end for the time being. With no further ado, read and reread above (or is it below?) my old blogs accompanied by pictures!

First Blogspot blog

I credit the setting up of this blog to Nathan Hansen who said my Facebook blog was unacceptable. So here it is. Let's see if it'll ever get used. Enjoy!