Still here

9/11 is an ominous date. I remember thinking about the significance of that date when I found out that was the date of round two (out of three) for my boards. On 9/11/01, I was teaching high school and I remember watching the news before I left for school. Watching jets fly into the twin towers. Most of you were at work and school when you found out, but Hawaii is 6 hours behind us. (In the summer, no daylight savings.) So, it happened before we got up. I remember how surreal it felt. How shook up all my students were.

Eight years later it was a traumatic time to my family. Not emotionally traumatic to me, but very much so for my wife.

I remember finishing written boards. I finished early so I had all afternoon off. I came home and talked Jess into having a celebratory bike ride. What better way to celebrate a brief respite from months of studying. There was no way we could find a sitter on a Friday afternoon. So, we decided to do intervals and take turns watching Maggie. We drove up to heartbreak hill. It is short, about a mile. But steep. The last half is steep, I believe 12% grade. (It climbs .12 miles, 633ft, for every mile.)

Jess did the first climb. Maggie and I accompanied her during the less easier first half with Maggie in our kangaroo seat. We went back to the truck and we played in the dirt. When Jess came back, it was my turn. The last thing I remember was clicking into my pedals.

Jess started to worry because I was taking longer to return than expected. According to the accident scene I was descending. There are no hairpin corners, it is nearly straight. I was probably going fast. A passing motorist saw my bike and came over to investigate and see if a biker was in trouble, and sure enough. He called 911. Jess saw the ambulance and put Maggie in truck and came up. What I have gone through in no way compares with what my family went through. Not knowing if I would live or die. Not knowing if I would be a permanent nursing home resident. It was hard for Jess. It was hard for Krehl and the rest of my family. Blaine died July 7, 2004, so it was kind of close to home.

The anniversary of my accident fell on a Saturday this year. Being a little crazy I wanted a way to say, "I'm Still Here." I am blessed that Jess was OK with me doing a bike ride on this ominous date.

I thought about Latoja (Logan to Jackson Hole). In the end I decided to do 100 miles not 200. The Enchanted Circle is a ride I have wanted to do for a while. It is a beautiful route. It feels like southern Colorado. Mount Wheeler, the tallest peak in New Mexico 13,140 ft, and the Taos ski hill are right in the center of the loop.

Red river is the little green pushpin at the top of the circle. We went counterclockwise. All the climbs were fun. It was fun to pass the crazies that zipped by me on the descents. As you probably would have guessed. I go much slower on the downhills.

It was so beautiful and a fun ride. The last climb was the highest topping out at 9,800 feet. And you already have 85 miles on the legs.

My bike has a ride time of 6 hours 8 min.

I did not expect a century to be a spiritual experience, I had a powerful feeling of gratitude during one of my descents. I was thankful that it was part of God's plan for me to stay here to try to raise Maggie well and be a good husband.

One of my Attendings told me he was on Neuroradiology call the Saturday after my accident. So he read many of the brain CTs and MRIs. He told me how blessed I am to still be here. (And this is coming from someone who I did not know was spiritual.)

I am so blessed to still be here with my wife and daughter.

The Shoulder Sync

Another fun Blaine memory.

Krehl Blaine and I were building the middle bottom apartment of 237 the spring and summer of 1999ish. I believe Blaine was a Senior. (There is some guess work on the dates) Blaine was similar in weight to Krehl and I but definitely a little taller. So any overhead wiring was his by default. Krehl and I needed a step ladder or an overturned five gallon bucket to reach high enough to thread wires through the rafters. But Blaine just had to tip toe a little and with that wide wing span of his he could reach over the rafters. (No stepstool or upside-down bucket)

Another fun memory from that summer: We would start early and stay late so we could justify taking off an afternoon or two during the week to drive down to Shelley Idaho. This was one of those record setting runoff years so the Shelly wave was running that spring. The Snake River overflowed its banks and flooded I-15 at one point.

A couple years previous, when I got home from my mission, Sandra sold me her Chevy S-10. It was perfect. It worked great for hauling lumber, doors, and it worked great for hauling kayaks. No rope or tie downs to mess around with, just throw the boats in the back. The only downside was shoulder room. Imagine Krehl, Blaine and I in the front seat of a tiny pickup. This required a couple peculiar group behaviors. I would push in the clutch and tell Blaine what gear I wanted and he would shift. Another idiosyncrasy, my favorite part of this memory, was our shoulders had to be in sync. If Blaine wanted his left shoulder forward, Krehl and I had to put our left shoulders forward. If Blaine put his right shoulder forward, Krehl and I had to put our right shoulders forward. A lot of fun memories of kayaking with that amazing man.

The Churro

I wanted to share a fun Blaine memory. About 18 years ago we had a family California vacation. It was so much fun. Picture a Buick century with six people in it. (For those people who do not have any memories of the Pleistocene, that was a midsize sedan. And today’s midsize is bigger than a midsize sedan from a generation ago.) It was a little crowded with Krehl Blaine and I in the back seat, and this was the 10ish year old Blaine. Not the bigger than me, Blaine. When we picked up Ra in Arizona, Sandra sat between Krehl and I in the back. Blaine sat between Mom and Dad in the front. That Buick did not have a bench seat. They folded up the arm rest and put a pillow over the cup holders. Another reference to an older age, before seat belt laws were equivalent to the stone tablets Moses brought down from Mount Sinai. Several years after this trip, I remember Sandra saying other trying experiences pale in comparison to her Sardine status being squished between two boys in the back of that Buick.

Now imagine a gruff complaint coming from the front seat, “Why are we going to California, I never left anything down there.”

The third fun aspect of the drive was if you wanted something out of the car, you would go and ask Mother for the keys. She would turn her back to you and take out the car keys from her bra. It was a little disconcerting to receive these warm, slightly damp keys in your hands. The next challenge was the challenge of Mothers packing. Nobody can pack a freezer or car trunk as efficiently. You would go to the trunk and take out your bag. If you bag was on top you were golden. If you had to move anything to take you bag out the trunk was not going to close. There was less volume. You just took out a bag. Even with careful attention to detail while repacking, the trunk would not close.

After much trial and tribulation we arrived in California. We went to Disneyland, Knoxberry Farms Park, Universal Studios, and Sea World. We did not buy lunch or treats at any of these parks. We had a bag with sandwiches etc. People used to have more respect for thrift. Today it seems there is more derision and mockery of this value. We did not expect overpriced treats at these parks, but the smell of the Churro’s was overpowering. Blaine asked Mother several times for one these overpriced heart attacks. They are about ¾ inch wide and 8ish inches long. They were probably $5. Imagine paying $5 for a doughnut. That is one expensive cinnamon and sugar coated, deep fried, ticket to heaven. Did I mention the smell, heavenly. After a full day of walking past this scintillating smell, Sandra took mercy on Blaine and gave him the money. As he came back towards us holding his churro in a small square of wax paper, he had the ultimate expression of ecstasy. I have never seen a smile that wide. Suddenly, a seagull swooped down and grabbed the side sticking out of the paper. Now during our week we had already seen seagulls rob many of people eating at the amusement parks. Someone would turn their head to answer a question and these rats with wings would sneak up grab a sandwich inches from that person’s hand. We had not lost any our food prior to Blaine’s loss. We were lucky, but we also watched our food with great diligence.

Part of the tragedy of Blaine’s loss was the quantity. The seagull did not just get a bite. The whole churro slide out of the wax paper. This was not a mostly eaten sandwich like we had seen other people lose. This was an uneaten, unbitten, whole tube of sugar coated heaven. We saw Blaine’s countenance fall. He did a couple short hops and pounded the pavement with both feet every hop. He kept repeating, “Stupid Seagull!”

This created a small irony when Blaine got his mission call to San Diego. The home of Sea World and his seagull.

This week while I was retelling the seagull story to Jess for at least the third or fourth time, she read me this from Sea World’s map, “Seagulls in the park can be aggressive. Please do not feed the seagulls or leave small children alone with food. Sea World replaces purchased food stolen or damaged by seagulls.” I wish we had known that 18ish years ago, Blaine could have enjoyed his churro.