flahute

“Buddha can’t be avoided. Buddha is everywhere. Enlightenment possibilities are all over the place. Whether you’re going to get married tomorrow, whether you’re going to die tomorrow, whatever you may feel, that familiar awake quality is everywhere, all the time. From this point of view, everything is a footprint of Buddha, anything that goes on, whether we regard it as sublime or ridiculous. Everything we do — breathing, farting, getting mosquito bites, having fantastic ideas about reality, thinking clever thoughts, flushing the toilet — whatever occurs is a footprint.” — Chögyam Trungpa (1939 – 1987), Tibetan Buddhist teacher.

After 5 years and 6 days, I got rid of my Isuzu Trooper this past Friday evening. It’s had a number of problems over the past year, and it just go to the point where I was tired of throwing money at it, just to keep it running. After replacing the brakes last summer and replacing the clutch this past fall the Trooper lasted long enough to take me on a road trip to Phoenix, LA and back again over the winter holidays, but now it was starting to lag and jerk, not just when cold, but even when accelerating on the freeway.

The problem could have been one of three things … a problem with the fuel system, a problem with the engine, or a problem with the transmission. I didn’t want to know which, knowing that each problem would be progressively more expensive.

So Friday night, I took the Trooper over to State Street to one of the used car dealerships, and traded it in for a new-to-me 2006 Jeep Liberty in excellent condition and a $12,000 car loan (and accompanying car payments).

So far, I’m digging the Jeep. Even it it isn’t as sexy as the Subaru Impreza I also test-drove … it still has enough zip to make it fun to drive, and like the Trooper, has enough room for skis or bikes inside; it should also get slightly better gas mileage than the Trooper.

So now we say goodbye to the Trooper Tales category, and welcome the Jeep Chronicles. Pics later.

THEY

I wondered what had
happened to the chords.
There was a music,

have a time, each
one in his place, an
endless arrival.

  — Robert Creeley (1926 – 2005), American poet.

Burke Swindlehurst racing at Callville Bay Classic. Photo copyright © Brian Hodes/VeloImages, linked from VeloNews.com

After a long career on the road, facing all the ups and downs that come with riding for a professional cycling team, Burke Swindlehurst has now entered a new phase … as a privateer both on the road and dirt; but a privateer with a cause, riding for TeamGive, an organization which works to increase awareness of, and raise funds for, research, treatment, and support of those suffering neurological disease, including Metachromatic Leukodystrophy (MLD) and similar debilitating diseases. He debuted his new one man “team” at the Callville Bay Classic, on the shores of Lake Mead, outside Las Vegas, Nevada.

Burke is a perfect ambassador to represent TeamGive. He is one of Utah’s most widely recognized professional cyclists; he truly loves his profession; and in my experience, unlike many professional athletes, he is incredibly friendly and humble.

Not only did he know who I was before I ever actually met him (and I’m just a cycling fan with a keyboard), and has never failed to say “hi” when I’ve seen him out on the road (generally going in the opposite direction and/or much faster than I am), but he has incredible taste in music. As much as he loves cycling, I think he may love music even more.

Yeah, I sound like a fanboy, but there’s nothing wrong with that. I can honestly say that Burke is one of the coolest people I know.

I am truly looking forward to following his results this year, cheering him on to the stage win at Snowbird during this year’s Tour of Utah, and being able to raise a glass and toast him for a job well done at the end of the season.

Another fun day playing in the snow with the Trask family, in town for a visit from Los Angeles. Today we went up Big Cottonwood Canyon again for sledding, snow fort building, and of course snowball fights. Of course, the only photos I took were of the scenery.

SNOW

Low clouds hang on the mountain.
The forest is filled with fog.
A short distance away the
Giant trees recede and grow
Dim. Two hundred paces and
They are invisible. All
Day the fog curdles and drifts.
The cries of the birds are loud.
They sound frightened and cold. Hour
By hour it grows colder.
Just before sunset the clouds
Drop down the mountainside. Long
Shreds and tatters of flog flow
Swiftly away between the
Trees. Now the valley below
Is filled with clouds like clotted
Cream and over them the sun
Sets, yellow in a sky full
Of purple feathers. After dark
A wind rises and breaks branches
From the trees and howls in the
Treetops and then suddenly
Is still. Late at night I wake
And look out of the tent. The
Clouds are rushing across the
Sky and through them is tumbling
The thin waning moon. Later
All is quiet except for
A faint whispering. I look
Out. Great flakes of wet snow are
Falling. Snowflakes are falling
Into the dark flames of the
Dying fire. In the morning the
Pine boughs are sagging with snow,
And the dogwood blossoms are
Frozen, and the tender young
Purple and citron oak leaves.

  — Kenneth Rexroth (1905 – 1982), American Beat poet and translator

My favorite ski loop … from Moonbeam Lodge up Moonbeam lift, down Main Street to Sunrise lift, Summit Access to Summit lift … then through Summit gate into Honeycomb Canyon, along the Honeycomb Cliffs traverse towards Prince of Wales, then dropping into Woodlawn back to Honeycomb Return lift to Gary’s Glade or Sunshine Bowl, back to Main Street to either do another lap, or cut back over to Moonbeam Lodge.

Also got a chance to play with my new Panasonic Lumix DMC-LX3 compact digital camera. So far, I like it … perhaps even more than my Canon PowerShot G10, and definitely more than my Sony Cyber-Shot DSC-WX1, although the latter will probably be my go-to camera for a jersey pocket on bike rides, since it’s the smallest of the three.

View Ascent activity on 25-Feb-10 at 02:28PM in a larger map

Honeycomb Cliffs and acres of powder, Solitude Mountain Resort

More powder in Honeycomb Canyon, Solitude Mountain Resort

Dropping through the trees, Honeycomb Canyon, Solitude Mountain Resort