Wilderman Dogs

The dogs know more about what’s going

… than I originally thought.

 

There are two of them, up here.  Sometimes I can see them huddling up, and I know … Oh, yes, I know … that they are up to something.  But most of the time they split up.  Sure, they do a good job of barking when some squirrel gets too close to the house.  But sometimes they just bark, to pretend that they are on top of things. At night, it is not uncommon for me to be sitting at my desk, or in one of the big chairs, reading, writing … and at some point I feel like there is someone staring at me.  Yes.  You must have dogs that do that too.  I look up to see one of the dogs staring at me.  And, in a split second, the dog looks away, and stares in a different direction.  Sneaky.  That’s  what they are.  Sneaky.  This is the older dog, a mix between a German Shepherd and a Gold Retriever.  She will sometimes wear my daughter’s lime green ski helmet, trying to disguise herself.  Again: sneaky.

But when I go for a quick hike, or a walk through the woods, oh … one of the dogs jumps in.  The enthusiasm that flows through her eyes, tail wagging, and she even has a prance as she is trotting along with me.  She loves the wilderness.  She loves me.  She is a Wilderman Dog.  Officially she is a Bernese Mountain Dog.  But she is, unmistakably, a Wilderman Dog.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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“No, I Won’t Back Down”

 

Tom Petty,I Won't Back Down,UK,Deleted,7“Well, I won’t back down
No I won’t back down
You can stand me up at the gates of hell
But I won’t back down

No I’ll stand my ground
Won’t be turned around
And I’ll keep this world from draggin’ me down
Gonna stand my ground  And I won’t back down.”

Training.  What if an individual is trained to give up?  I mean … trained over many years, perhaps since childhood … to avoid dreams, longings, hopes, goals.   File:Cruz.Rudy.jpg

 Those ominous toxic messages:

“Fighting for what you believe in is futile”;
“You are what you are, a loser,  always short of what it takes, weak”;
“If it’s meant to be, then it will come to you … you don’t have to waste your energy”;
“What is the use of trying?  You’re not strong enough, and you’re not good enough”.

http://boxrec.com/media/index.php/File:Cruz.Rudy.jpg

So, if get my head right, I can respond to those lies:

“No, I don’t buy what you are saying.”

“No, I won’t back down.”

“No, that’s you … that you are talking about, not me.”

“No, you are lying.  I do truth, not lies.”

“Liar, liar, your pants are on fire.”

Rudy Cruz from the 1950’s.  Bottom line?  ‘Wouldn’t give up.  Born in 1925, and breathed his last breath in 1988.  Not an incredible record, but not that bad, either: 49 winsl 11 KO’s (knockouts); 10 lost; 3 draws; 530 rounds boxed; with a KO % of 17.46.  He wasn’t Rocky Marciano; he wasn’t Joe Lewis; he wasn’t Jack Dempsey.  No, he was Rudy Cruz.  And he didn’t back down.  He fought.  He made a choice to go for it.  And me, I’m T.  And, I have some regrets.  I have backed down a few times.  I chose not to go for it, at different times of my life.  But I really want to make the duration count.  I want to fight the right battles.  I want to go for it when it is the right thing to do, and the right time.  I don’t want to back down.  By the way, this picture below is not me.  But if it was, I would be the guy on the right.

File 34298

 

 “Never stop. Never settle.”

http://www.builtinchicago.org/blog/against-all-odds

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wildermen Walkin’ Down The Road …

 

Joy and fun has come around from music played out by the Ozark Mountain Daredevils.  Here are some lines from one of my favorite pieces … Although, you may ask yourself “What does all this mean?”, for there is not much depth in the words.  Just fun and a little foolishness.

I highly recommend the Youtube video (3:34 minutes) for this song.   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FpaL-NVC-dg

 

 

 

 

Lyrics to “Walkin’ Down The Road”

Ozark Mountain Daredevils

Well, I’m walkin’ down the road with my hat on my head
had to leave my mama in my big brass bed
well, sun is shinin’ on me and you know it sure feels fine

Lord, I made it to the station with my suitcase in my hand
walked up to the window like a nat’ral born man
said I sure do hope that choo-choo train runs on time
(choo-choo, choo-choo)
Lord, I sure do hope that choo-choo train runs on time

well, these two dollar shoes, Lord, they hurt my feet,
… well it could not be beat
and I see no reason, reason to be sad

I’m goin’ where them cold, cold winds don’t blow
where the streams and rivers, Lord, they all run slow
ain’t no use in cryin’, cryin’ over what you had
Lord, ain’t no use in cryin’, cryin over what you had /                     (http://www.imdb.com/media/rm528260864/tt0110367?ref_=tt_ov_i)

 Alright, Wildermen, and great women who shine like stars, keep walking down the road because sometimes running is not the point.  I’ll try to take my own advice, which is difficult in this case: Lighten up.

 

 

 

 

Cuppa Coffee and a Ponderosa Pine

Yesterday morning, with coffee, surveyed the forest, stretching back and upward along the slope of the mountain.  I studied one tree in particular, a Ponderosa Pine, one of several I have sized-up countless times.   It goes up around 75 feet; 14 inches in diameter.  I have known that the tree needs to come down, but its a beautiful tree, or a handsome tree, one or another.  It is a large tree for my eyes; stands like a bull in a china shop.  East, ten feet away, is the roof.  North, fifty feet, is a power line.  South, twenty feet, runs the phone line. That leaves west.  And even then, the phone line on the south and the power line on the north converge, at an angle,  at the pole (west).

I will cut this Ponderosa Pine six feet above the ground and it will miss the lines that come together at the pole, in theory.  I will use three guide ropes.  One is a tow chain.  The guide ropes will pull the tree downward, into the four-foot space between two aspens, in theory.  After I tie off the guide ropes, I go inside and sip some coffee, tempted to stop this insanity.   I consider this venture risky for an inexperienced woodsman. I drink more coffee, review, reassess, and consider these factors:

  1. A professional tree service?  Too expensive;
  2. The tree is too close to the house, and must come down;
  3. I want to get this done, as painful and as intimidating this may be;
  4. I have everything covered, as long as I cut the tree down correctly;
  5. Finally, I am a wilderman, and wildermen all over the world are depending on me to go for it (sounds a bit grandiose).

There is another slight complication: my chainsaw it not running well, and I cannot depend on it until I get a tune-up and a new chainsaw blade.  Therefore, I will be using my axe and my wedges.

After the fastidious, slow, axe-work, front and back, it is time to go to the ropes.  I begin pulling with a slow, rhythmic, technique, increasing the force, the ponderosa pine swaying further and further, until I hear the first “CRACK!”.  My heart is beating a bit faster, and I wonder if I am about to die. When the tree snaps, there will be less than five seconds before the tree slams against the ground.  I will run at the right time, in the right direction, to the right place, without tripping.  The tree is swaying with more intensity now.  I listen as I continue to pull the tree, and .

“CRACK!” . . .

 An ominous sound it is.  The tree is coming for me.  I sprint northwest, twenty feet, crouch behind two Ponderosa, and watch the mammoth tree, seemingly in slow motion, collide with the earth.  Dirt and needles and branches are flying.  The sound is powerful.

I come to the conclusion that, amidst my thankfulness that there has been no property damage nor injuries, I will seek the assistance of some other seasoned wildermen woodsmen if I have another tree experience so challenging.  I go back inside and I make some fresh coffee.  And I will use three guide ropes.