FOND MEMORIES OF WHEN I STARTED MY NEW LIFE: When I moved west in 1993, it was pretty much a new life. It felt new. Colors were brighter…food tasted better…music sounded louder. It’s because we were on edge, fending for ourselves. A new world. I was 19. Just a little asshole rat. I remember those butterflies. Bry and I felt them, being turned down for apartments in Bend…having little money…being far from home. It was exciting as it was scary. We had contingent plans drawn up if thing didn’t get better. Good, little Midwesterners, keeping just enought cash to drive home if need be. Shit like that. Dumb, when you know what you know now. But that shit was crucial. It formed us. Made us tough getting knocked down those couple times. Very thankful for those wild days.

Anyhoo, once we got to Oregon, we locked down a pad in Bend, unloaded our shit and headed up to Government Camp to stay with the Morrow guys, do some riding, and see Portland for the first time. I remember driving up to the lodge, parking, walking by that big Timberline Lodge and seeing a gigantic St. Bernard waddling around. A big sucker. Might’ve been Bruno, or a son of his. Hard to say. I remember the thing being big. A cool dog.

We hiked up that glacier and went riding. In the summer! August. A new life, alright.

So today’s for all the St. Bernards of that old Timberline Lodge. I’m going to track down all the names at some point.