A Man Walked Into a Bar...

And he took pictures of some great people:

Summer Trip to Minnesota Part 2

During our recent trip to Minnesota, we crossed paths with my brother Steve and his wife Cathy: 

We had lunch at a place called Urban Bistro. The service was painfully slow, but the food tasted so good, we decided that it was well worth the long wait. Would definitely patronize this place again.

Flashback to 1979

In the summer of 1979, after a year of careful planning, my good friend Steve and I climbed inside my 1976 Vega hatchback and headed to the West for two weeks of hiking and camping in the Bighorn Mountains.

Though we had planned extensively for this trip, things did not go as originally planned.

Our initial plan was to park our car to the South of Bighorn peak, just off of Hwy 16, then hitchhike about 40 miles to the Northeast. From there, we would hike back to our car using a preplanned route that took us through the Bighorn mountain range. The return trip would last about a week.

Something we hadn't planned for while including hitchhiking as a major component of our trip, was the possibility that we may not reach our destination. It turned out that there were three things we hadn't considered; First, most people don't pick up hitchhikers. Second, there isn't much traffic on Hwy 16, so the odds of getting picked up are that much more remote. And third, even if we did manage to get a ride, there was no guarantee the driver was going as far as we needed to go.

So, while sitting for hours along the road waiting for someone to pick us up, we had lots of time to goof around. One of the products of that goofing around was the picture below where I pretended to hitchhike with the knife I brought along just in case we encountered any grizzly bears:

We finally did get a ride, but that person only took us about 10 or so of the 40 miles we needed to go, and once again, we found ourselves hitchhiking alongside a very quiet and peaceful highway. It was at that location that things took another unplanned turn, which was a torrential downpour that lasted two days.

Once we realized the rain wasn't stopping anytime soon, and that nobody was going to pick up two soaking wet hitchhikers, we pitched our tent in a small clearing alongside the road. There we sat for two days waiting for the rain to subside.

When the rain finally let up, we talked it over, and decided to throw out the original plan, and instead just hitchhike back to the car. From there we could hike up into the mountains, find some midway point, then hike back.

This is a shot of Steve standing alongside the trail shortly after we began our hike towards the mountains that were looming off in the distance:

Steve and I set up our first camp at the Southern end of Lake Helen. We chose the spot because of the incredible view of the mountains off in the distance. It was stunning. The following picture captures a very small taste of what was an unbelievably beautiful view:

After the night at Lake Helen, we packed up and continued North. We couldn't wait to get to the base of those mountains.

We set up our next camp at Mistymoon Lake, which probably gets its name from the fact that it is very round, just like a moon crater. Once our camp was set up, we made a spur of the moment decision to climb one of the smaller mountains nearby. The next photo is a view from the top of that small mountain looking to the South. The lake that is further way is Lake Helen, and our previous night's camping spot was at the far end:

After getting the mountain climbing bug, we decided to take on Bomber Mountain, which is significantly bigger than the one I took the previous picture from. We were unaware of the reason behind the naming of the mountain, but it became obvious when we stumbled across the wreckage of a B-17 Flying Fortress that had hit the mountain in 1943, killing all 10 who were on board. As many had before us, we carved our names into the metal wreckage to leave our mark upon the mountain.

There were other day hikes after Bomber Mountain, but no more mountain climbing hikes. During one of our day trips, we were nearly run over by a deer that was running for cover during a hail storm. I don't know which was more startled, us or the deer.

All in all it was a fantastic trip, one that I'll never forget. Here's one final shot of Steve and I which was taken by some hikers we encountered shortly after a rain storm:

Glad our planning included the possibility of rain storms. I don't know what we would have done without our rain ponchos.

Flashback to 1967

Pictured below is my uncle Bob (everybody has an uncle Bob, don't they?) and my brothers and I.

That's me with a missing sock.

A lot has changed since this photo was taken. Bob doesn't smoke anymore, and I no longer sit on his lap. One thing that hasn't changed is that Bob is still one of the kindest people I've ever known.

It's an honor to be Bob's nephew.

Boot Camp

In early May of 1982, two of my closest friends and I boarded a plane destined for Florida. Our final destination; the Naval Training Center in Orlando. The 3 of us, along with 77 other guys, would become members of Company 136 in what used to be referred to as boot camp.

Our fellow recruits got a lot of mileage out of the fact that three of us had come from way up North in South Dakota. I don't know how many times I personally heard someone say something to the effect of "gee, I didn't know covered wagons traveled this far South". Ha. Ha. Hilarious ;)

The photo below was taken while the three of us were trying on our newly issued uniforms. That's me on the far right. Next to me is Steve Baker, and next to him is Brian Scholten. We were all smiles here, but that enthusiasm was short lived. Boot camp wasn't the picnic we thought it would be.

One of my favorite memories of the whole boot camp experience surrounds events that occurred on our first night, and which played out rather similarly on our last night. The contrast in what followed those events is what makes them memorable.

The first night was preceded by an entire day of shuffling from place to place and from line to line as we were vaccinated and issued our clothing and other supplies. When the lights in the barracks were turned out for the evening, many of us were eager to get some sleep, as we had been told that the next day would begin very early. For some however, the day wasn't over, and so a a dozen or so of the guys continued to talk and joke and laugh.

The horseplay continued for about 5 or 10 minutes after the lights were out, until, as I remember it, a loud booming voice with a thick Southern drawl yelled "have a little respect for your fellow shipmates, and shut the fuck up!"

The place went silent immediately. Not another peep was heard from anyone for the rest of that night. Nor do I recall any significant horseplay taking place after lights out from that point forward. I later learned that the loud booming voice belonged to one Marvin Hyde, one of my fellow recruits,

Now fast forward through 8 weeks of basic training. It was our last night in the barracks. The following morning would send the 80 of us in separate directions into futures that were big unknowns. The lights were out, and the silence on this night was deafening.

Suddenly, out of the silence, came a loud booming voice with a thick Southern drawl that yelled "have a little respect for your fellow shipmates, and shut the fuck up!"

The place erupted. Suddenly everyone was laughing hysterically. Then others began to shout out reminders of those things that had bonded us together as a group for the last 8 weeks. The reminiscing went on for probably an hour or more, and when it finally died down, I think it was exhaustion from laughing that put us all to sleep.

There were other interesting things that occurred during our 8 weeks of Boot Camp; like when one of our company commanders (William Brandon) got himself into trouble for shaving one of my fellow recruits with a cigarette lighter, or when one of my fellow recruits (Orlando Ward) dislocated his shoulder after slipping in his own sweat while doing 8 count body builders, or when four of my fellow recruits posed for a photograph wearing nothing but garbage cans on their heads to conceal their identities, then passed that photo off to some girls in our sister company. Those events were interesting, but none reached epic status like Hyde's respect comment did. Hyde had not only made our last night into our best night, he had elevated himself to legendary status.

If you're out there somewhere Marvin, my hat is off to you. Well played sir, well played.

Hanging with the Home Boys

While in Sioux Falls a week or so ago, I met up with some of my childhood friends for some beers and shots. No shots for me though, I learned to avoid shots 20 or so years ago.

Andy, Don, Scott, Ron, Rene, Shane, Jane, Steve

Christmas in Sioux Falls

On Christmas eve, my younger brother and I made the 9.5 hour drive to Sioux Falls. And it would have taken us 9.5 hours to get to Sioux Falls had I been paying attention and not accidentally headed South on I-35 for 60 miles before noticing that I was on the wrong road.

Even with the extra two hours of travel time, it was a fun drive, and an all around great trip. We got to see a lot of people we hadn't seen in a while.

Bruce and Rebecca



Selfie with Rebecca

Ron, Mike, Steve, Shane

Mike, Rita, David

Kayla, Kris, Grace, Rebecca, Patrick

Josh, John

Kris, Grace, Mike, Karen. Kayla, Bob, Rebecca

Flashback 1977

In the summer of 1977 with myself and my 4 siblings in tow, my Mom drove us from Sioux Falls, South Dakota, to the Cascade Mountains of Washington. Our destination, a place deep in the forest called Holden Village. This was a trip sponsored by Grace Lutheran Church , and without a doubt ranks at the top of my experiences growing up.

Pictured here are myself, flanked by two of my brothers, Steve and John. We had just completed a long hike to a lake where we planned to spend the night. Fearful of bears and other night stalkers, I "chickened" out, and made the return hike back to the village. If I recall correctly, my Mom ended up carrying my pack most of the way back.

 

Here I am again standing with my pack on, with brothers Mike and John in the foreground.

 

Flashback 1966

My brothers and I, way, way back when. I'm that chunky one up front.