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    #61
    Journey into Sobriety...

    Just an FYI!
    America, the Beautiful

    "America the Beautiful"was written by the professor, poet, and writer, Katharine Lee Bates. Bates wrote the song in 1893 while on a trip to Colorado Springs, Colorado. When she got to the top of Pike’s Peak, she said, "All the wonder of America seemed displayed there, with the sea-like expanse". The view was so beautiful that it inspired her to write the song that is considered by some to be the country’s unofficial national anthem.
    "America the Beautiful" first appeared in print in The Congregationalist, a weekly journal, on July 4, 1895. Within a few months, it was set to music by Silas G. Pratt. Bates revised the song in 1904, after receiving many requests to use the song in publications and special services. An additional change was made to the wording of the third verse in 1913, to give us the version we know today.


    For two years after "America the Beautiful"was written it was sung to just about any popular or folk tune that would fit with the lyrics. "Auld Lang Syne" was the most popular of these tunes. In 1926, the National Federation of Music Clubs had a contest to put the poem to music. None of the entries seemed to fit the poem. Today, "America the Beautiful" is sung to Samuel A. Ward’s "Materna". Before her death in 1929, Ms. Bates never indicated publicly which music she liked best.


    This audio version of "America the Beautiful" was obtained from the United States Air Force (USAF) Heritage of America Band. Visit the USAF Heritage of America Band's official Web site for more patriotic songs.

    A service of the Superintendent of Documents, U.S. Government Printing Office
    .

    Last updated: February 1, 2007
    Page Name: Ben's Guide (3-5): Songs and Oaths -- America the Beautiful
    "Be still and know that I am God"

    Psalm 46:10

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      #62
      Journey into Sobriety...

      Neil, what can I say?? That certainly is Gods own country.. Those photos are fantastic, I can't begin to imagine what is was like to actually be there....
      A F F L..
      Alcohol Free For Life

      Comment


        #63
        Journey into Sobriety...

        DAY 10- Cool Sierra to Mojave Heat

        Howdy and how are y?all?

        I haven?t downloaded my GPS logs yet, but I think today was the greatest altitude change in any one days drive. I started this cool AM in Bishop, CA and headed straight south on Route 395. Went right by Mt. Whitney, the tallest point in California. The Sierra Nevada mountains have their own particular charm and power, as compared to the Rockies. A few snow caps in the mountain crevices are still left.

        My fingernails were driving me crazy, and my lips were chapped from the super-dry air of the Yosemite area. I stopped in a Lone Pine, CA drug store to get the nail clippers and Chap Stick. I was in a bizarre episode of some surrealistic TV show. I don?t belong here in California, and never will. These small southern California towns are forgotten it seems, as LA and the idiocy of the Paris Hilton show steals it all away it seems. I am putting great distance between that place and myself now, but at one point in today?s journey, a slight twist of the steering wheel, and I would have been in that morass already. I have been to LA too many times in my life already.

        It is time to head back east now. A jog back on highway 58, and Barstow pops from the desert. I-40, my old friend and I are together again. Gas is outrageously high priced, with the little accordion bellows on the pump nozzles to ?catch? the horrible vapors. I descend to 500 foot (150 meters) or so in the Mojave Desert. My home in Tennessee is higher altitude than that.

        I am starving, and need a full dinner. Needles, CA is it, and a Denny?s restaurant beckons. I stop, and exit the truck. A sledgehammer of heat hits me in the face. It is over 100 degrees F (38 degrees C). This is the hottest part of the US right now, as revealed by a quick check of the newspaper. The waitress is a very nice older lady, and I am the only customer taking a very late lunch. A large tip is the order of the day.

        I write this from a great little hotel room in Kingman, Arizona. Amazingly enough, the manager is from my Tennessee town, and used to work a hotel near I-40 there. That hotel had a bar, infamous for being a pickup place for straight folks in their 40?s and 50?s. I knew it well, and told him. He knew as well the reputation, and a slight grin ensued. I also mentioned that was only during my drinking days, and I no longer indulged. The manager gave me the best room in the entire hotel I think, as the parking, the view, the amenities are all the best it has to offer. I just made the reservation by computer, and took my chances as usual with only the Internet information.

        Today?s journey was just a blast from high to low. From cool to hot. This is Arizona, and my neck hurts a bit. A little Icy Hot muscle rub, and a very late dinner tonight, and all will be OK.

        Tomorrow: New Mexico? Colorado? The fish waits to be caught?.

        Comment


          #64
          Journey into Sobriety...

          a tip

          Hi Neil, I have been following your journey vicariously. On the lips, I never leave home without a tube of carmex, little yellow tube with a red top, in any walgreens or walmart by the checkouts. You WILL thank me! LOL enjoy and I am very jealous, love road trips! Suz
          The more we appreciate life, the more life appreciates and bestows us with more goodness.

          Comment


            #65
            Journey into Sobriety...

            DAY 11- A rotten apple in the barrel....

            AGGGGGHHHH!!

            Bad Hair Day!!

            Bad Travel Day!!!

            Late start out of Kingman, AZ.

            Traffic jam on I-40, traffic was at a complete standstill, and I had to go around in Flagstaff. Much hassle and headache. All the drivers seemed to have me targeted.

            High winds on I-40, constant fight to keep control.

            Highway patrolman pulled out fast when I whizzed by at only 3 mph above speed limit, and tailed me for 5 miles before letting me go on.

            Trucks hogging both lanes on the steep grades uphill. Truck trailers swerving all over, as well as other trailers.

            I passed by Grand Canyon, and Meteor Crater, as I have seen them both twice. Last time was over 2 years ago when I drove Mom and Dad out there for their 50th anniversary.

            Some a**hole in a Mercedes Benz straddles the middle lane at 80 mph, and nearly clips me.

            I went to do laundry and wash the truck (it was a terrible mess) in Gallup, New Mexico, and I lost my $%^&&@# hotel key during that. The washers and dryers only worked half the time in the public laundry, and the car wash left streaks all over my truck.

            Hotel manager charged me for the lost key, and I don?t dare go back out to look for it. It is a special type key, and not one of those credit card things. I think it best for me to just get in the bed, pull the covers over my head, and leave this day behind.

            And that?s only the half of it!!!!! Shitty travel day. Lets write this one off the books.
            an;">
            Tomorrow: Must go to southern Colorado, and at least try to catch a fish.

            Neil

            P.S. Suzanna thanks for the tip. The medicated chapstick did the trick, and it is a bit more humid here.

            Comment


              #66
              Journey into Sobriety...

              Neil,

              Even your bad day makes for a wonderful read. Thank you also for your pics.

              Comment


                #67
                Journey into Sobriety...

                Day 11 -addendum

                BTW- As I was sitting in the crappy laundry, I spied a cooler full of cold beer.

                I cannot tell you just how much I wanted to buy a case of cold ones right then and there, and just drink the day off the books. I mean I felt it rise in me from the days hassle.

                Of course, I did not, as that would have fixed nothing. So I got my little yogurt cups, bananas, and peaches I saved in my cooler, and gobbled them down in the hotel room just now. That was dinner for today. I sort of went nuts in a super Wal-Mart last night, and bought a bunch of health food for myself in the deli. Salads, fruits, fresh wheat bread, and some turkey slices because I needed my good stuff.

                But I tell you, that cold beer in that cooler just about ripped me off my butt with its tempting draw. God did it look so ever good.

                I will deal with life and the difficulties without that stuff. I figured things had gone so well the last 10 days, that I was due for a clinker.

                Neil

                Comment


                  #68
                  Journey into Sobriety...

                  Aw Neil, everything was going just hunkey dorey for you then WHAM.. You know, we all need a day like you just had as a test, pass the test and come out the stronger, I bet that cooler full of beer was one of the toughies though.. Well if I were your teacher then I would mark you 100% on your paper and give you an A+.. At least all the horrible and irritating things happened in the one day, hopefully tomorrow will be better..

                  Happy motoring,
                  Love,Louise xx
                  A F F L..
                  Alcohol Free For Life

                  Comment


                    #69
                    Journey into Sobriety...

                    Sorry you had a bad day yesterday and lost your key in Gallup. I would say welcome to New Mexico and give you suggestions but sounds like our winds have gotten to you! If you change your mind, and especially if you decide you want a beautiful place to camp, pm me. Southern Colorado is beautiful. I don't know if you are interested in ancient Indian ruins, but if so Mesa Verde is wonderful. My family used to go to the hot spring pool in Glenwood Springs every summer for a break while on our camping trips but I haven't been there for years. I grew up in Colorado and am biased but love the entire state. Hope you find some good fishing.

                    Comment


                      #70
                      Journey into Sobriety...

                      Some comments.

                      Irishlady:

                      Thanks for the good grade on my "term paper". It is just a reminder that that after 35 years of drinking, I would be just kidding myself to think the psychological cravings would just magically dissappear after only 1 1/2 years of abstinence. But, I knew this already. I mentioned this for the benefit of our long term members, who may still struggle after months and months. I can empathize. We must truly re-engineer and overhaul our entire self-image. Those words are easy to type, but in practice, it takes all the effort of self-love a human being can muster.

                      Louise (not the Irishlady Louise):

                      I have made reservations for two days at Pagosa Springs. My "secret" fishing spot, which has been known for 20 years to me now is on the east fork of the San Juan River to the northeast of that town. It be south of Wolf Creek Pass, in pretty much wilderness area.

                      If no luck there, I can ask at the local fly fishing shops where the luck is. I have my flies, my fly tying kit, and my topo maps. Wish me luck. The wild rainbow trout resides at the higher altitudes, and is small, but most satisfying to catch. I am catch and release fisherman by the way.

                      Neil

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                        #71
                        Journey into Sobriety...

                        DAY 12: Lost Wilderness, Rock Spires, and Suicide Prairie Dogs...

                        Hello my cyberspace friends:

                        Today was a mixed bag for sure.I was very glad to get out of Gallup, and on the road straight north out. I got a phone call on the cellular voice mail, but had no signal. I figured it was about a reservation in Pagosa Springs I made yesterday via computer. More on that later.

                        The first thing was a climb through New Mexico desert, where I saw of all things, the suicide prairie dogs. Yep. You read right. Those familiar with the American southwest know what prairie dogs are. Little rodent creatures, very cute, that lives in large towns of burrowed holes. I saw several standing on their hind legs, about a yard (meter) from the pavement edge, or actually on the road shoulder. I saw them, and would whoosh by at speed, only clearing the prairie dog by about the same distance. They would not even budge a muscle. Any other animal would scurry back off the road like lightning. Not these guys, and there were several like that, to boot. Suicidal prairie dogs.

                        Then a new sight met my eyes as I approached the Colorado border. Massive rocks jutting from the earth, that had wild shapes. The biggest up there was called “Ship Rock”, as it sort of looks like a 500 foot (150 meters) tall ship. One rock captivated me, and I drove about a half mile (almost kilometer) off road to take video and pictures. It was different from every angle, with wild spires, and crevices. I will post a picture of that soon. This was new, as I had never traveled this road before. Most impressive, and those rocks always have earth energy and power in them. Some just see a big rock, but I see power to last millions of years beyond my puny bodies term of function.

                        The Rocky Mountains loomed in the distance, as I turned onto Colorado 160 a bit east of Durango. I got a phone signal finally, and pulled off the road (I always pull off and stop to do cell phone stuff if I am driving) to return the message. My reservation at one particular lodge close to my secret fishing spot was not accepted. They said it was all sold out and no chance of getting in. I said, OK, and I will make other arrangements. More about this later.

                        I had another reservation at a chain hotel on the west side of Pagosa Springs, and arrived in good order. The very nice lady at the desk was Russian I think. I asked her if I could extend my stay to two nights there, and she said no problem. Now this place is sold out for the night as well.

                        Well, continuing on, I decided to quickly make a scouting run on my old secret fishing spot. While on the way, I passed the lodge where I had the second reservation, and the lit sign clearly said “VACANCY”. I was about to call the reservation cretin back, and do some butt chewing, but I thought “They probably have some asinine reason”. I stayed at that lodge the last time I was here, in 1995 I think, maybe 1994.

                        So I continue on up into the wilderness area, and I have a hard time remembering where the turn off is. Mountain storm clouds are gathering, and lightning is striking the peaks. A little rain falls, and messes up my clean truck, since the road is dirt and gravel. Well, a lot has changed in 12 years. My secret place is no longer secret. Every place on up into the remote area has an RV, or camper, or tent, or monster diesel motor home parked in every nook and cranny. CRAP!! My favorite spot from years ago, is clogged with several RV’s, and trailers with 4-wheel ATV motorcycles. CRAP!! My place is ruined!I drive as far as I can up to the end of the road, and see one ATV parked there, and nobody in sight. I decide what the hell, and park my truck, and assemble my gear. I have not fly fished here in 12 years, and I’m probably very rusty. I need to “practice” and get my stuff in order.

                        Fly-fishing is an art, with much paraphernalia to attend to. I have a new set of waders, and new 4-piece fly rod, reel, and some other new stuff as yet untried. It takes me 30 minutes to get it all together, and I venture out into the stream water. Jeepers, I am out of practice and rusty. 30 minutes of fumbling like a newbie, and the old rhythms come back. I forgot half my fly fish knots, but amazingly that comes back as well. The main problem, is that my eyes are not nearly as good as they were 12 years ago, and there is much difficulty seeing what I am doing. I get it together, and then a young man comes marching out of the brush, and stops. I ask him if he had any luck, and he said that he had fished for several hours, and caught one. This is not encouraging. I told the fellow, who was about mid-20’s or so, about my years here in the past, and bountiful catch’s I had back in 1990 when the place was hardly known. I lamented, and the young fellow just says, “Yea, everything changes all the time.” He shows me the fly he used that finally caught his fish, which was a gray wet nymph. I am determined to use dry flies. The river is teeming with bugs like I never knew. The fish are well fed obviously, and will be picky eaters. Too many people catching to few fish probably as well. The magic and mystique destroyed. So he leaves, and wishes me luck.

                        Fly fisherman have a code I think, and I liked that fellow. The art of the fly fisherman enjoinders a deep spiritual awareness, not found in any man-made church. This is what I came for anyway, but not with these yokels jammed bumper to bumper in their motor homes and campers. So it was test run on the gear, get my casting arm back into time, and get the kinks worked out of the systems.

                        It gets dark, and I pack up my gear, and even more campers and motor homes plod up the remote road. It is no longer a wilderness because of them. Just too many people know about this place now, and I have lost something forever. I get very depressed on the drive back down the mountain, and wonder if this will be the fate of the world.

                        On the drive back into town, the lit sign at the lodge now reads "NO VACANCY". It's just as well. That place has gone neon and glitter as well it appears. It used to be a real mountain lodge.

                        A thin plastic coat of superficial banality has settled on Pagosa Springs it seems, compared to 20 years ago. It seems as if it will go the way of Aspen, Colorado and become commercialized, and synthetic. I lament again, and become depressed more. This is not what I came for, and the redneck beer drinkers, with their lawn chairs and propane grills have taken over what used to be something special to me. So I have a nice dinner at a small restaurant, and get the most expensive thing on the menu, to lift my spirits a bit. Sirloin and scallops, with all the trimmings and garnishes. Meditating on what was lost, I now resolve to find a new place, where the lone wolf like myself, can put some space between the next fisherman and me. I must have gone by a lot of those places up in Montana and Wyoming, but a rush was on, and I accept the consequences of not stopping when I should have.

                        So just the couple of hours I had today, before the sun got too low, the art was rediscovered in my hands. That was good enough. No fish were caught, and I went as far up river as I could before the road ended. It is time to find a new road, further out perhaps, where those fish await.

                        I wish you all well, and tomorrow is another day.

                        Neil

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                          #72
                          Journey into Sobriety...

                          Neil, I do understand the complexites of your trip. So much of it is awe inspiring, but trying to go back is difficult. Development happens. I have found that to be the case whenever I've gone back/

                          My husband is a fly fisherman, catch and release.

                          I wish you well on this part of your trip.Stay safe my friend.

                          Hilary
                          Enlightened by MWO

                          Comment


                            #73
                            Journey into Sobriety...

                            Neil,
                            Thanks so much for the update!
                            Having lived in Southwest Colorado for 20 yrs and @ the Grand canyon for a season.. I know the country you're speaking of pretty well. Also the fact of it growing & changing as things do...
                            I'm so thankful I was able experience Telluride as quaint little mountain town that it was while I was there. It was kinda heartbreaking to see what it was turning into ... just before I left..
                            Thanks for bringing back some fond memories... those canyons & mountains never change too much no matter what... you can't get an RV up too high! or low...(thank GOD!)
                            Catch some big uns!
                            Have a great trip!
                            :l
                            Judie

                            I used to kayak on the San Juan river every spring at least 2 or 3 times! for about 5 days each trip... beautiful canyon country! Bluff to Mexican Hat!
                            The only thing worth stealing is a kiss...:flower: zwink:

                            Comment


                              #74
                              Journey into Sobriety...

                              Neil, I could feel your despair as I read your post just now, and what a grand metaphor for life your last paragraph was.. Rushing past when you should have stopped, and the realisation its time to find a new road, one less travelled perhaps ??

                              Good luck for tomorrow,

                              Love, Louise xxx
                              A F F L..
                              Alcohol Free For Life

                              Comment


                                #75
                                Journey into Sobriety...

                                DAY 13- Absolution of the Spirit. Wilderness Trek.

                                Hello dear friends of the dry spell:

                                I only put maybe 70 miles (113 km) on the truck today. It looks like it has gone through heck and back (well, not that bad). Those were miles up into the wilderness area.

                                I stopped at a local fly fisherman?s shop to find something I sorely needed. A flip down magnifier to see, so I could tie my knots. My regular sunglasses already have a progressive 2.25X reading power, but that?s only so I can read my instruments while driving. I needed something more powerful, and the shop had exactly what I needed. A neat little gadget, that clips onto the bill of your hat, and can flip down. It was a 3X magnifier, and that was perfect.

                                So I asked the young man running the shop (another 20-something) where I could go to get away from the madding crowds that now inhabit the east fork of the San Juan River. He was more than happy to show me on my topographic atlas a good location, up to the northwest, rather than the direct east of Pagosa Springs. A word of warning, I would have to climb down a ways into the river gorge, but I said a little hiking is OK. He then said it?s at 8500 feet (2590 meters) altitude, so the hike would be a little tough. Well, you know, I am confident now with my exercise program that I could handle a little trail walk.

                                I then asked him of the best flies for that area, and bought a dozen or so. So off I went, after filling the gas tank, into the mountain again. The road turned to dirt and gravel just a short distance up, and after 15 miles (24 km), it got very narrow and just one lane, but the road was graded flat, so no worries. A sportsmen?s shop appeared out of nowhere, lucky for me at this point. I had forgotten to get a license, and needed to potty pretty bad. So there I stopped, and got legal and business done. Good thing for me, since I saw a game warden stop in, and he gave me the eye. See Mr. Game Warden, I have a fishing license!!

                                Onward up to the mountains, and I found the spot I was needing for my soul. A quick survey, and it was over 100 feet (30 meters) down to the water from the narrow road. A steep descent, and I figured right then I better prepare. In the bed of the truck, I had a special container just for this purpose. It contained a backpack, water bottles, and pockets for essentials. My waders, and sandals went in. Not knowing if black bears were in the area, I stuck my trusty .357 magnum in a side pocket of the backpack. Fishing rod case, reel, and knickknacks for the descent into the canyon. It was a little tough getting down, but I came upon a side stream, and pulled off the shoes and socks, to put on the sandals (for water wading anyway), and got to the next area. Thre were very large rocks, many the size of automobiles, and some even larger to climb over. This IS the Rocky Mountains. I heard a moose bellow I think, and the sportsmen?s shop did have a warning posted about the moose, but it was the severe penalty for hunting moose without the proper license (very expensive). Wherever that moose was, I never saw him or her.

                                Into the stream, and it was not so cold as to need waders. So I went in sandals on bare feet. The tackle was assembled, and 4 hours later, no fish. I worked the stream up and down for a ways, and slipped and fell in the water once. Banged up my right hand on a rock, but my pride was more injured than anything. Just a slight scrape at the base of my thumb near the wrist. I tried dry and wet flies. I tried casting from every direction, and nothing. The slow waters in front of, and in back of the rocks. No fishy for Neil today. I was getting a bit sunburned on the arms, and my bug repellent had all washed off from my baptism in the Piedra River. The moose bellowed again, probably in response to my mild cursing of the big horse flies biting me. Ah, nature.

                                So I packed up, and climbed out. WHOAAAAAA!!! I may be in pretty good shape now, but climbing the steep rocks out of the canyon at 8500 feet knocked the wind out of this middle-aged codger. My heart racing as I reached my pickup, and I quaffed the pint of water in my bottle. Good grief, I need more exercise when I return home.

                                So I found the spot I needed, but the fish were nowhere to be found. That is OK. I still had a good day anyway. I noted on the topographic maps that the Piedra falls was at the end of the road where the official wilderness boundary began. So I drove onward to see how far it went. The roads I was on, are only marked on a topographic map, and not a regular road atlas. They are indicated as Forest Service roads, so that is about the limit for a regular automobile. But it was only for the true blue back country explorer to see I guess. The climb I made knocks out more than 90% of the regular fishing crowd, who had congregated around the bridges, and easy access areas.

                                I came within 10 yards of a feeding mule deer on the road, and took many pictures and video. In Tennessee, that close proximity would send the whitetails a runnin?

                                So the end was reached, and very few other folks encountered, even on this holiday weekend. My goal was met from yesterday, and a new place is found. I imagine in the off-season, this area is almost abandoned.

                                Pleasantly tired now, I have my sights set on a Chinese buffet down the road a bit.

                                New pictures for you!! 2 New Mexico rock pictures. 2 pictures of the place I fly fished today, and two pictures of mountains at the wilderness boundary. Enjoy!n>

                                Tomorrow: A mad dash to my birthplace.

                                Neil

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