The Myth & The Majesty

At 7242 feet, Harney Peak is the highest point between the Rockies and the Pyrenees. The main route is #9, a 3.5 mile trail (well, depending on which sign you believe) that takes you from the rather picturesque Sylvan Lake to the stone watchtower on the peak, long since abandoned as a fire lookout but now the perfect vantage point for thousands of hikers each year. From that tower, you can see Nebraska, North Dakota, and Wyoming, along with the full scope of the Black Hills. [As it happens, the lookout is also the final resting place of one Dr. Valentine T. McGillycuddy , a rather fascinating figure in South Dakota's -- and my alma mater's -- history.] I first hiked Harney Peak when I was nine or ten. It was a family outing -- all five of us, including an under-five Shorty -- and when we got to the top, we were quite literally walking in the clouds. As spectacular a view as we were promised, we were instead greeted with a whopping five feet of visibility. Still, getting ...

(More palatable stuff to come. But not right now.) I've come to the part of Ashley Camp where I fully intend to do nothing but ... hide. And so it is that I've come to appreciate my location, in the highest room of the tallest tower, overlooking the camp but out of reach (and more importantly, sight) of the campers. Despite the climb up the hill every time I decide I need food or something. I came out here this week in need of space and alone time, and I can't say I haven't gotten just that. It's possible I needed other things, too -- the chance to think without interruption, removal from constant Internet access and the easy distractions that brings, required effort instead of the simplicity of a well-stocked kitchen less than fifty feet away at any given time. As good as the last year and a half has been -- and despite my groans, it really has been pretty spectacular -- being out here reminds me that I've been treading water far too long. Maybe I won...

It has been an insane week. There's been something of note going on every evening since last Tuesday. Which would explain, perhaps, why I didn't finish packing for my weeklong venture -- of which I've known since, oh, late May -- for which I've been mentally and otherwise preparing for since the beginning of the month -- to which I've been counting down the days since June -- ten minutes ago. Hey, I'm still marginally ahead of schedule. It's a good thing. The catch to the packing process is the simple fact that I'm driving. When I fly, I pack small. I went to England for a week (in February, including a wedding) with a carry-on bag. When I drive, I pack ... everything. I'm prepared for almost any weather. (If it snows, I guess I'll just have to layer like it's, you know, snowing in July.) I have clothes for hiking, winery-hopping, hottubbing, nights out, quality ranch time, and some potential job-search-networking-type-stuff. And it...

The things I intended to write about this week now seem vastly inappropriate (my desire to see "The Dark Knight Rises" and an upcoming trip to Colorado -- no, I'm serious) so I'll give you a quick one for the locals instead. 1. The Sioux Falls Air Show has already started. If you don't feel like going down to the airport yourself, there are other places to get a good view in town. (Blue Angels are on at 2:30, if that makes a difference to any of you!) 2. There's an Irish Festival going on downtown this afternoon from 3:00 till 10:00, including a rugby game at 4:00 (assuming they're still playing if it gets as hot as predicted). 3. It's not a "fest" per se, but there's vacation Bible school at Sunnycrest UMC starting tomorrow night. I mention it because a) it's not during the day like a lot of churches, b) it's a huge production, and c) there are things for big kids too. [My siblings built a life-size papier mache elephant ...

[It's just so dang easy to start with an xkcd. I can't help myself.] It has been nine years since I started this blog. In those nine years, the blogging world has changed drastically. Nine years ago, there were a few options in blog hosts and within those only a handful of choices for layout. Posting pictures was ... difficult. Forget about videos -- YouTube didn't even exist for two more years. Blogs were basic and amateurish and for those reasons not overly popular. If you wanted someone to read it, you basically had to hand out your URL. What started as a few nerds talking about whatever came to mind has exploded. Now, if you're interested in a topic -- any topic -- there's someone out there that blogs about it. Newspapers and TV channels have, in essence, daily columns in blog form. Company websites have blogs to keep their customers up to date. Families use them to keep track of each other from states or countries or oceans away. There are also s...

Disclaimer: I'm aware that most of you really don't care about this (one in particular, but I'm not convinced he actually exists anyway). However, there are a few, so I'm going to post it anyway. Plus ... I want to show off my project a little. So there. Among my other random hobbies, I enjoy sewing. Note: I never said anything about skill. I enjoy it. I am not particularly good at it. That being said, there are some things I feel ridiculous buying because I know I could probably make my own. And then occasionally someone (in this case, my cousin) posts a link to a website that can help. Enter Sweet Verbena. I've been obsessively reading her blog for the last week and I keep wanting to try out her tutorials. (Right, so ... not the sequined mini-skirt. But plenty of others.) The other night I got started on the "it's a cinch" bag . Tote-type bags fall squarely in that why-would-I-buy-this-when-I-can-make-my-own? category. They are, after all,...

I'm not really a Twitter-er, but I think a few recent big-mouthed celebrities have brought to the forefront something that we should all remember. Yes. Free speech protects your right to say just about anything. You can say whatever's on your mind or tell whatever joke you want. You can be as repulsive as you want without breaking the law.  However, it also means that the incensed populace can say whatever they want about you in response. All I'm saying is ... Don't forget. Backlash happens. And you have no one to blame but yourself. That is all.

I am not yet thirty years old, but today I feel ... old. Ancient and crotchety, actually. Here's the thing: so much has changed within the last three decades that its almost impossible to imagine going back. And yet we lack awe. Let's start with one of the coolest advances in daily convenience: cell phones. I have distinct memories of some of the first mobile phones -- they were permanently attached to vehicles because they required a power source, which was provided by the cigarette lighter (er, what are they called now? power point?). And they were amazing. Imagine! A phone you took with you! Heck, do you remember the first cordless phone your family had? Wasn't it awesome? You could suddenly hide in your room (which, if you were like me, didn't have its own phone) no matter where you originally picked it up. It's not just phones, of course. Do you remember the TV that was in your house when you were a kid? Did it have a remote? (We had two -- one...

I've actually gotten to do some pretty cool things for the 4th of July in the past. When I was in younger, it mostly meant marching band and fireworks. Our house is within a couple of miles of five or six fireworks stores -- the real ones, the warehouses full of explosives, as opposed to the tents. My siblings and I would save up for weeks so we could blow it all on firecrackers and artillery shells. Then, much to my mother's chagrin, we spent hours ... and hours ... and hours finding things to blow up. With college the fun stuff started. I've spent three 4ths (?) at Mount Rushmore, before they stopped doing the fireworks displays. (I'm hoping that's only temporary ... Stupid pine beetles. It truly was one of the best shows on earth.) One year, I joined the boys in Colorado Springs and we hung out in Breckenridge for the day. When Mia Sorella was on her way to Korea, the 'rents came to Wisconsin to visit and we headed for Door County . And one year I was ...

We've hit the snap-crackle-pop part of the day. The parades have been over for hours; almost everyone's done grilling for the night. In an hour, it'll be getting dark enough for the bright, sparkly fireworks. For now, there's an ever-constant run of firecrackers outside as kids everywhere within two miles of here blow up soda cans and little plastic army men. Happy 4th, all.