As two boys pedal down Lucille bike trail a dog crosses the road; his people chase after; little kid on motor-bike nearly gets hit

It was a gorgeous, warm day - temperature 56 degrees farenheit - and as I drove down Lucille towards Metro, I felt the heat of the sun coming through the windows to toast up the interior of the loaner car. I wondered if perhaps it was time to get an icy frappe instead of a steaming Americano, but I wanted a muffin, too, so I stuck with the Americano.

Then, as I waited for a break in traffic so that I could turn out of the Metro driveway back onto Lucille, I saw these two kids coasting down the bike trail - looking oh so cool as they stood on the pegs that protrude out from their rear axles.

Traffic cleared and I pulled onto Lucille, just in time to see this dog break away from the couple who was walking it and dash across Lucille, toward the boys on the bikes. 

The couple then dashed across the road in pursuit of the dog.

The man then chased the dog past the next church down.

The dog dashed pass one of the biking boys who, apparently startled by the yelling and shouting, had stopped his bike.

The dog raced happily on. And I drove on. I saw the dog, the couple, and the kids on the bikes no more. 

And then I saw two little boys to the left of me, driving their little motor bikes where the bike trail goes. Motor vehicles are prohibited on the bike trail, so, apparently not wanting to break the law the boy in the lead, this boy, gunned his engine and shot across the road to the dirt trail on the other side.

By his nervous glance and body language, I could see the second boy did not want to be left behind and, even though it was too dangerous to do, was trying to decide to cross as well.

I moved my right foot off the gas pedal and brought it lightly to the brake. Sure enough, the second boy decided to go for it. I had to hit my brake, hard, to keep from hitting him.

I then drove on. I ate my cranberry muffin and sipped my Americano.

I then cut across to Church Road, where I saw this couple walking.

As readers returning in great anticipation from yesterday's post have undoubtedly noted, I had planned something else for today, but this just popped up, it was quick and easy to do, I have been going like crazy and just got a huge project, the budget for which I depleted about two months ago - to press last night, the day is beautiful, I am burned out, and I just want to find some way to get out and enjoy that beauty.

I wish Margie could join me, but she still cannot do anything physical and I must get out under the open sky today and do something physical.

I still have not decided what. A long, long, bike ride would be good, but I am still not in shape for a long, long, bike ride.

The places that I like to hike will be a slushy mess, so I am ruling that out.

I must do something, though.

What?

As I enjoy a good breakfast at Family, two women die just down the road; I meet a friend of Cheech and Chong who witnessed the aftermath

Once again, I had to do it. I got up, the house was empty, the dishes were dirty, and I did not want to sit in the cold air that still permeated the house, there to eat oatmeal alone, so I got into the car and drove to Mat-Su Valley Family Restaurant. Connie was again my waitress, so I showed her the Moment in Time picture on my iPhone as it appears in this blog, then she brought my ham and eggs-over-easy and I began to eat.

It was superb - from the hashbrowns cooked just right to the ham dipped in the runny egg yolk. A bit after 9:00 AM, I looked up from my food, saw this scene, thought it worth a click and shot it.

What I did not know, what none of us gathered there at Family Restaurant yet knew, was that just up the road, a silver Chrysler Pacifica had crossed the suicide turn lane all the way into oncoming traffic and had struck a Tahoe head-on. The woman who had been driving the Pacifica was already dead and the one driving the Tahoe soon would be.

Just as she and the other Family waitresses always do, Connie waited until I finished the main course and then she brought me my two slices of 12-grain toast, each cut in half. One at a time, I spread strawberry jam over the halves and then ate very slowly, stopping frequently to take a sip of coffee. I wanted to savor every bite, every sip, every moment of it.

Then, feeling pleasant and satisfied, I got up, paid my bill, climbed into my car, turned right on the Parks Highway and then came home via Church Road. I arrived with much to do, but feeling good.

I would have felt completely differently, had I turned left on the Parks Highway instead of right.

I had a rush of work to do and stayed with it solid and non-stop, taking no time for lunch, because, really, one does not need lunch after eating breakfast at Family until 4:00 PM, when I took a break and drove to Metro for my All Things Considered cup.

As I drove along, sipping, I passed this fellow driving his four-wheeler. Do you notice anything happening in those trees behind him? Something we haven't seen for awhile?

Shortly after that, as she does every afternoon, the KSKA announcer jumped in during a break in All Things Considered to drop in a kicker for the Alaska Public Radio Network's Alaska statewide news. Barrow hunters had landed the first two bowhead whales of the season, she said.

I shouted, and clapped my hands for joy!

Later in the evening, Maak in Wainwright dropped a comment into yesterday's post to tell me that her village had also landed its first whale.

It was a joyous day in the two northern-most communities of the United States of America.

I came upon a little dog, walking down the road. I passed by at about one-mile per hour, because I did not want to run over it.

I then returned to my computer, but by 7:30, my muscles were screaming for exercise. I got up and invited Shadow to go bike riding with me.

We had not gone far when we spotted a little fourwheeler putting down the road in front of us.

"Do you think we can pass her?" I asked Shadow.

Shadow didn't answer, because Shadow never speaks.

I passed her! I soon reached the end of Sarah's Way and turned left toward Seldon. Then I heard a small engine, whining loudly, gaining on me. "Well," I said to Shadow, "it sounds like she didn't like us smoking her and now she is going to show us."

The pitch was so high, I wondered if her engine might blow apart.

Then the vehicle passed me, but it was not the girl on the fourwheeler. It was a little tiny blue car. I don't know what make.

Shadow and I continued on. Half-an-hour later, I photographed Shadow as the two of us pedaled down Church Road. Then I spotted another man on a bike, coming in our direction. "When we draw near, I will photograph this guy," I told Shadow.

I readied my pocket camera, but, unfortunately, I forgot the lesson that I had learned at the Wasilla park on that day tht I flipped my bike and leaped over the handle bars in front of the shocked little kid. I held my camera in my right hand. This meant that I had only my left hand available to brake, should I need to. As we know, left-hand brake stops front wheel only - sudden stop means bike flips.

But this guy could see me coming and I could see him. No cars or trucks could be seen anywhere. It would be okay. I would not need to brake.

As the biker drew near, the camera zoom was its widest-angle setting. As I began to lift my lens toward him, the oncoming rider looked straight at me and with a mischievous chin and a somewhat maniacal glint in his eyes, issued a challenge: "Wanna play chicken?"

He stood up and pedaled hard, straight toward me.

For an instant, I was determined to get a shot that captured that grin on his face and the force in his body as he pedaled at me. If I had been in the same exact situation prior to June 12, 2008, I am quite certain that I would have succeeded.

But, as regular readers know, the risk that I took that day to get a truly insignificant photo that no one will ever care about put me inside a Lear Jet ambulance on a $37,000 + ride from Barrow to Providence Hospital in Anchorage, a ride that my insurance company, contrary to the promise they had verbally given me when I bought the policy 15 years earlier in anticipation that, given the way I lived, the day would inevitably come when I would one day need an air ambulance, refused to pay.

That's why I have this titanium shoulder and that's just one of the reasons why I hate the insurance industry.

That coupled with the fact that I had flipped my bike in front of the little boy when I had braked with my left hand, added to the fact that I suddenly believed that this guy coming at me truly might not chicken out nor veer away in the slightest degree, added to my painful knowledge that my titanium shoulder is a fragile thing, and my memory of spending the summer of 2008 mostly in bed and the long convalescence that continued for a good year-and-half caused me to chicken out.

I knew I had to brake with my left hand but I reckoned that I had just enough space to do it gently, and not flip the bike. Even as I applied the brake, I shot this image.

As you can see, the oncoming rider was, in fact, chickening out, veering to his right. He, too, was applying his brakes.

We came to a stop side by side. My rear wheel did lift up about six inches and, fearing that I might yet go down, he reached out to grab me - but I had it under control and was not going to go down.

Some of you may recall how, way back in March, I had become shaggy, in both hair and beard. I was scheduled to do my slide shows in Nantucket and New York and so had committed myself to good cut and trim before I left.

I ran out of time and decided to get the cut and trim in Nantucket. When that didn't happen, I decided that I would get it in New York.

I absolutely will get it done before I leave for Arizona in just ten days.

This is Dave, by the way.

We pedaled side-by-side for just a short distance.

Then we stopped to visit. Dave was animated in his conversation, smiling continually. He said that he had just pedaled his bike up a road that climbs up the Talkeetnas and it had sure been hard, but it was easy coming down.

He asked if I biked often and I said, "yeah."

I asked if he did and he said he pretty much had to, if he wanted to go anywhere. I asked if he enjoyed it. As he thought about his answer, a big, white, Chevy pickup that looked to be almost brand new came driving by. He looked at. "Well," he said. "I'd rather be driving that. You can imagine how I feel when I'm on my bike and something like that comes by. But, hey! I can go all the way downtown and back and I don't burn any gasoline, I don't put any pollution into the air."

I wanted to catch his smile, and the glint in his turquoise-green eyes and told him so. He struck this pose. The smile disappeared.

OK - look at these trees. Now do you notice something happening?

I had him try another pose, but I quickly realized that, as long as he knew a camera was pointing at him, his smile was not going to be there.

I then showed him the pictures. "I look terrible," he said. "You can see all my scars!" He pointed to the one that starts between his left eye and the upper part of his nose. "I got that one when someone kicked me in the head." He then began to point out other scars, and tell me the histories behind them.

"Man! I should have shaved. My hair looks so dark. My eyes look blue - but they're green!"

He then mentioned that earlier in the day, he had been pedaling alongside the Parks Highway on the other side of the police station when he came upon the aftermath of a horrible accident.

"That little silver car had shot across the dead man's lane right into the SUV!" he said. "I could see that the air bag on the passenger side had worked."

The victims had already been removed. He did not know that two people had died in that crash until I told him. He seemed a little shook.

"Men or women?" he asked.

I did not know. The news bulletin I had read online had identified the dead only as the drivers of each vehicle.

"I'll read about it in tomorrow's paper," he shook his head.

The conversation fell to more pleasant topics. His smile returned. He had just painted his bike silver, earlier in the day. He was proud of it. He asked if I smoked and if I had a light. I said no, and I didn't. He pulled out a paper and a bag and began to roll.

I wanted to catch his smile, so I took this shot without raising my camera. Afterwards I showed it to him. "Hey," he said. "I want to tell you about when I went to Mexico with Cheech and Chong. We tried to come back across the border in our van, but the border guards wouldn't let us cross." He said he and Cheech and Chong then backed up, traded the psychedelically-painted van for a more conservative vehicle, returned to the border and were allowed to cross back in. They drove on to El Cerrito, where he checked into a bed and slept hard and long.

"You know Cheech and Chong?" I gushed.

"Oh, yeah!" he answered.

"Famous guy!"

"I'm not famous," he said. "They're famous."

"But you hang out with famous people."

"That was a long time ago."

As to the contents of that plastic baggie, I know what you are thinking - but it actually looked and smelled like tabacco.

As they say, "that's my story and I'm sticking to it!"

Dave and I said, "see you around." I pedaled on home.

That was last evening. This is from this morning. Now, surely, you notice what is happening in those trees... they are turning green! The leaves are coming out!

The first year that we lived here, the leaves came out May 14, as they did for the next 15 years or so. Then they started to come out earlier and earlier and earlier.

This year, they came out May 3.

And here is the place where the two women were killed, as I saw it this morning. God be with them, and even more so with those loved ones they left behind.

Desperate to live on, winter gives us a 35 degree blast of snow and rain, but spring continues to win; Kalib gives us all a bad scare

Now that I have an iPhone and can listen to the radio on it, I had decided to pedal to Metro Cafe instead of drive. Plus, the weather has been so nice lately, I figured that maybe I could get my coffee and then sit at one of the little tables on the patio.

That way, I wouldn't burn up any gas and I would still get to travel and listen to the news.

But, when I stepped out my front door, I was greeted by a fierce mix of rain and snow, coming down hard. 

So I got into the car and headed to Metro.

I did not shoot a study there, because Carmen was busy with some folks and could not come to the window. Afterward, I drove onto Church Road and this is what it looked like.

Two days earlier, we had been pleasantly shocked by 65 degree temperatures. Now it was 35. In Barrow, this would be outrageously hot for this time of year, but for Wasilla it was on the cool side.

That 91.1 is for KSKA, where All Things Considered was playing.

Church and Spruce.

Down by the park, the same one that I featured Monday, I saw three girls, eager to cross the road. They had probably not expected this storm to hit so suddenly when they set out to walk.

Now they were getting wet - and cold, I suspect.

In some places, the snow began to accumulate.

In other places, it didn't. This is on Schrock, where the temperature was just the same and the precipitation as heavy, but there was no snow in it. Only rain.

Out of curiosity, I circled back to Church and found that it was still coming down as snow there.

Curious lady, Mother Nature.

As I drove, my iPhone rang. It was Lavina. Kalib had become worse. He had blisters in his mouth and could not eat or drink. He was drooling. He was feverish. He was miserable. Jacob was coming home and they were going to take him to the emergency room.

I headed straight home after that, and gave Margie the car so that she could go in and take care of Jobe. I had work to do and so stayed put

Around 8:00 PM or so, I broke from my work to tale a walk. I felt very nervous. I looked at the trees and I could see that buds had become prominent on the deciduous trees.

Very soon, we will see leaves.

Try as winter might to deny it, it has been defeated.

A jogger jogged past me.

I picked my way along the muddy trail.

When I reached home, I saw these two balls on the roof - undoubtedly the work of Kalib, assisted by his Uncle Caleb.

I went into the house and called Margie.

Although we would have to wait 24 hours for the tests that had been run on Kalib to be diagnosed, the news was good. He had taken medication that had removed the pain from his mouth. He was eating, he was drinking, his spirits were good and his energy renewed; he had come home.

Lavina also had blisters in her mouth when she got sick last week, but now she is fine.

I am certain Kalib will be too.

Lavina is now breast-feeding Jobe again.

I go to Anchorage to pick Margie up and find Kalib ill; he eats the fish food; Tyler and his saw; Bear Meech and Diamond

Margie had spent her four days babysitting Jobe while Lavina went back to work and it was time for me to pick her up. So, in the afternoon, I climbed into the Escape and headed for Anchorage. Along the way, I passed this guy on his big Harley Davidson.

By the time I reached the house, Lavina had already returned home from work. Kalib had not gone to day care this day, because he was feeling a bit ill.

I found Lavina giving him comfort.

Margie held the sleeping Jobe, strapped into his cradle, on her lap. Lisa came by and sat down next to them. Jacob had yet to return from work.

Lavina and Kalib.

Jacob returned at about 6:00 PM. His ailing son lifted his finger and the two touched.

This caused Kalib to feel a bit better, so he got up and stood beside his father as they watched a bit of the evening news. The big story was about how the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico is much worse than BP originally reported and appears to be on its way to becoming a true environmental disaster.

Shell Oil plans to drill five exploratory wells in the Chukchi Sea this summer, where bowheads, belugas, gray whales, polar bears, walrus, seals, migratory birds, fish and plankton thrive.

President Obama, maybe you should give this a little more thought.

Next, Kalib dove onto his Auntie Lisa to wrestle with her. This was a good sign that he was feeling better.

Then he headed toward his bedroom to feed the fish that I gave him.

His dad handed him the cannister of food. Kalib knows that he is not supposed to eat the fish food himself, but he pulls out a stick, smiles mischievously at his dad, then shoves it into his mouth and eats before anyone can stop him.

Jobe woke up before it was time for him to wake up. He started to cry. Lavina picked him up and began to rock him back to sleep.

Soon, Jobe would return to sleep. He remained in his cradle throughout the duration of my visit.

Then Margie and I headed over to pay a short visit to Melanie and Rex before we headed home. Directly across the street from Melanie's house, her neighbor Tyler had downed a tree and was now cutting it up.

Bear Meech observed as we headed up the stairs to Melanie's front door.

Inside, Diamond chilled warmly. Poof came trilling to my lap right after I sat down. I spent more time with Poof than with anybody else, but, somehow, I don't know how, I failed to take a picture of him.

Oh well. He was the star last time.

I had a lot of work that I still wanted to do before bedtime, so soon we headed home, where I got lazy, and put most of that work off.

I guess that I had better get it done today.

And my thanks to those of you who clicked that button and contributed. This blog has a long way to go, but now it has begun to generate revenue. Thank you!

He came walking through my town in the snow; Royce setback; an accident, a horse and a few teenagers

As I have written a few times, I keep experiencing odd coincidences. This has been going on for years now and it happened again today. When I took this picture, I had A Prairie Home Companion on the radio and a Utah Phillips song was being performed by Robin and Linda Williams:

I'm walking through your town in the snow,
I'm walking through your town in the snow,
I got no place to go, all the trains are running slow
And I'm walking through your town in the snow

I carry my home on my back,
I carry my home on my back,
But the police only frown, every time I lay it down,
And I'm walking through your town in the snow

The train track was just across the street and the Wasilla Police station just ahead. The man wasn't carrying a pack, though. He was pulling a piece of rolling luggage.

So we finally got a modest dropping of snow to coat the old stuff. Nothing to brag about - six inches, maybe. Still, I was glad.

I suspect that this fellow could have just as soon gone without it.

I wonder why he was walking through my town in the snow?

I'm afraid Royce has had a couple of bad days. Something is leaking out of him and it stinks terribly. It has almost made me barf a couple of times and has left me feeling sick to my stomach, but different than the usual way. I haven't yet figured out how to describe it. Yesterday, I gave him a bath, but it all came back and I fear it would be too hard on him to have another bath right now. I have made a warm place for him and try to keep him off the furniture, because whatever he comes in contact with stinks, too, but he managed to slip by and get onto the couch. Once he did, the damage had been done.

I did not have the heart to make him move until he was ready. 

I called the vet this morning, hoping to get him in. They could not get back to me until nearly closing time (they close early on Saturday's). I explained what was happening and they had a couple of theories, but did not see it as an emergency.

So he is scheduled to go back to the vet Monday morning at 11:00 AM.

We may have to postpone, because I think Lavina is likely to be giving birth at that time.

Two snowmachines coming down Wards.

Pickup truck on Seldon. The ISO control on my pocket camera had inadvertantly slipped to 2500. I don't care. It just gives the picture a different feel, that's all - more contrasty and grainy.

Ditto.

Minor traffic accident near the corner of the Palmer-Wasilla and Parks Highways.

Horses on Sunrise.

Through the Window Metro Study, #9701. These numbers are completely arbitrary, because I cannot remember them from one post to the next. The tall man is Nick and he used to work at Northern Air Cargo in Anchorage with Carmen. That's his son on the left, but they had already moved on when I got the ID's and his name had slipped out with him.

A group of teens caught in my rearview mirror.