Train To Be A Survivor...This Is Not A TV Show.

Get up off that couch, out of that easy chair...it's time to work those legs, blood pumping work. We've already gotten used to five dollar a gallon petrol...ten dollar petrol is just around the corner. We need to get better at heating ourselves if we are going to survive. Get better at splitting firewood, better at moving from the front door to the store. Being excellent at walking and biking will be key to our survival. Horsepower is not going to save us this time. Solar and wind power can only do so much, for those wealthy and wise enough to invest. You need to be able to walk down the street to pick up your fresh baked bread, to gather your veggies or bag your meat. When the going gets rough people come together and help their neighbors but, you don't really want to be a burden because your legs don't work and your heart is weak. If your feeling sorry for your sad state of conditioning and ability...type in Oxana Majors...she is a survivor.

Let's Lean On The Upbeat News Here

Something I've never discussed before....How much I appreciate my internal combustion vehicles this century. I've purchased two brand new cars in my life. In 2009 I traded in my old clunker Ford F150 for a brand new Honda Element EX AWD 5 speed manual. It has proven to be a genius upgrade from my previous 2 used Jeep Grand Cherokees. It actually climbs my steep ice-covered driveway without hesitation every time I ask it to. I have driven it nearly 140,000 miles and it still runs like a young pup. Honda Elements have been out of production for a dozen years but, if they brought it back and it showed any semblance to the original design, I would run right down and purchase another. Two years ago we purchased a made-in-America Ford Transit 250 cargo van. It is an AWD high-roof Eco-boost dreamboat. We've converted it into a comfortable camper and it has proven to be an inspirational truck....making three/four day camping trips possible and comfortable. During an eight week evacuation from our burning national forest and neighboring communities, we thought of it as becoming a possible 'forever home'. We bought it knowing that it made adventuring with our dog and bicycles a real possibility. You can't go on bicycle rides leaving your animal in a hot little Honda. Little did we know that both vehicles would be utilized as life-savers when efficient transportation would be necessary for health emergencies and maintenence fromm health professionals whose offices are many hours down the road. There was a time when I thought we could make it through this life transporting ourselves by pedaling only. Not even close. We invested twelve years into the car-free lifestyle...I can see now that we were lucky to last that long without motor vehicle assistance.

The Lost Sierra

The Lost Sierra...means something entirely different to me now. We lost one million acres of conifers and pines. We lost the music...singing birds, wind in the needles. We lost the incredible production of oxygen that we were blessed with year-around from that magnificent forest. We lost the experience of communing with contented wildlife. If we stay inside the green zone that holds the little village of Chester, California we can almost forget what it is that we lost but, as soon as we dare to wander from the village limits we are overwhelmed with The Lost Sierra.

Four Weeks Without Sunshine

Unheard of, even in the mountains of California. I didn't realize how this would affect me... SAD. We drove to SoCal in mid-December. It was sunny when we arrived. We rode our bicycles up and down the south slope of the Verdugo Mtn. neighborhoods until we were soaked with sweat and upon return to grandma's secluded pool we stripped down and enjoyed 58 degree 'plongettes' followed by full-body basking under the 70 degree California sun. The good life. A couple of days before Christmas, life got cloudy (and Lisa slipped off a curb in Glendale spraining both ankles). Rainy and gloomy skies took over on Thursday, obscuring what should have been the beautiful holiday season sunsets that we had experienced during previous years at grandmother's house. Two weeks of SoCal grey encouraged us to return to the north and make sure all was well at our Plumas County mountain cabin. The year had started with a couple foot of accumulated snow. I grabbed a shovel and got to work....after planting Lisa in our woodstove-warmed living room. Ankle brace bound, she was not to leave the house for at least two weeks. It snowed and rained and snowed non-stop for the next week. Then Thursday the sun almost broke through. It only rained a fraction of an inch that day. Friday saw the return of the moisture monster. And it didn't stop until the next Wednesday.

More Doing...Less Saying

I thought this would be the year of serious blogging for me, Nope. More doing...less saying. We keep coming up with new health hurdles. This was the 'Year of Chuck's Colon Tumor." Hurdle crossed. Part of my recovery after surgery was to do no lifting, pushing or pulling. So, that meant much less time at the bicycle shop building and working on bikes, much less time lifting and loading kayaks. We recreated softly by taking our Transit van to quiet locations where we could hike, read and play with the dog. Due to Lisa's ongoing chemotherapy we are seriously trying to avoid any virus exposures. Yes, we still wear our masks around strangers and we avoid crowds, for any reason. An average of 2,000 Americans are dying each and every week, even here in the last month of December 2022. Over one million Americans have died from this nasty virus in the last three years...and it's not the only bug out there that's trying to infect us and do us in. I don't mind behaving like a hermit, an antisocial paranoid man in his seventies. Attending baseball games, partys and concerts is way over-rated...made for some great memories but, enough. The entertainment industry gets no more of my hard-earned cash. I'm savoring these last years with my best friend and our happy Labrador and occasional visits with our vaccinated family.

The Three Month Gap...

.Once again, we made it out the other side of an important health challenge. The creative side has to be put on hold, somewhat. We just concentrate on healing. Hiking has been our main recovery activity...6,000 steps most days and 10,000 steps at least once a week. Putting one foot in front of the other...going the extra mile...has both Lisa and I feeling strong and satisfied that we are going to be allright. Many of our friends are struggling and some have expired, leaving our world a quieter place. Each day is a gift...I've been saying this for decades.