I never knew I had a bucket list until I saw the movie. Not that I'm terminally ill. I'm not. And, not that I have a list of places I must go before I do kick the bucket forsaking everything else. Well, I do have a list of sorts. But, in the days after watching the movie, I slowly realized that my life has been my bucket list. I don't expect the reaper to be knocking at my door soon, but, if he dropped by a few days before the day for a chat about my life, I think I'd tell him that I've done most of the things I wanted to do. Not that I popped out of my mom's womb trailing this long list of things to do and places to go. It took me at least eight or ten years to begin the list. And, most importantly, not that I'm done with the list. I hope I'll keep crossing things off of it until the day the reaper finally says, "OK, that's it. Put down your list." But, until that day, here are some of the things off my bucket list ....... in no particular order .......

Dive The Great Barrier Reef

Scuba diving is a passion of mine. I first learned how to dive when I was about eighteen. Then life took me in other directions and I didn't dive for many years. Back in the early 90's, I recertified and diving became a major part of our lives. One of the first places I wanted to go was The Great Barrier Reef. Every recreational diver dreams about dropping down onto the reef of reefs looking for undersea life of every form. Ands so it was that this item was ticked off my list.

Divers are a gregarious lot. During our diving travels, we made friends with many scuba enthusiasts. We bonded particularly well with one group on a liveaboard dive trip to the Netherlands Antilles. As that trip came to an end, we all found ourselves hoping we could meet again in another diving location in a year or so. The idea of diving The Great Barrier Reef was put forth, and all quickly agreed it was a splendid destination. We challenged Sasha, our trip organizer, to outdo himself by getting us all together again in that distant location. He did a yeoman's job and delivered us The Nimrod Explorer, a 72-foot steel and aluminum liveaboard diving boat.

So, on a sunny day in April we all found orselves gathered at the airport in Cairns, Australia loading our gear aboard two small planes bound for Lizzard Island, where we were to rendezvous with our floating home for the next ten days.

Scuba diving is a lot of fun no matter where you do it. But, if you're at one of the world's premier diving spots with a group of diving buddies that are all focused on having a great time both under and on the surface, you have a recipe for a lot of fun. And we all did have an incredible experience.
The warming of the oceans has a profound effect on corals. So, if one is diving on the largest assemblage of coral in the world, you are bound to see the effects of warming. That we did.

While every aspect of our diving experience could only be described using superlatives, there is one aspect of diving that many friends ask me about continually. That is about diving with sharks. We certainly dived with our share of sharks on this expedition. To be sure, they were not the great whites. But, many people wonder about diving with any sharks at all. Considering the the profligation of nature programs on TV that extoll the fearsomeness of sharks, it's not a wonder that people think we divers must be out of our skulls when we hang out with them.

First of all, sharks have an extraordinary sense of smell. But the bad news is they can't see nearly as well as they can smell. So, when we hear of a luckless surfer being munched on by a shark, it's usually because the surfer kind of looked like one of the shark's favorite snacks, a turtle, floating on the surface. When sharks do bite a surfer, that's what they do - they bite it. You rarely hear of a shark eating a surfer because once the shark tastes what he thought was going to be a yummy morsel of turtle (or something else equally tasty) and it turns out to be a bony human, the shark usually lets go. The problem is even a nip by a shark can be a really bad life threatening experience for a human.

These pictures taken during our GBR oddysey show some of the sharks we encountered. Although the picture below was a close enough encounter for me, the skipper of the Nimrod just had to demonstrate how snuggly a small shark could be (NOT!!).
Diving with sharks actually gives me a great deal more comfort than swimming on the surface wondering if one is lurking below me. And, when diving with them, they treat divers just like any other denizen of the depths. They exhibit curiosity and do come in close for a look sometimes, but not normally. And, as I said, these guys were not the ferocious carnivores that would have sent us scurrying for the boat.
On this trip we did venture out into the Coral Sea to a place named Osprey Reef. It was one of the highlights of the trip. During our dives out there at places with names like Nobby's Wall, C.C., North Horn, and Half Way Wall, we often found sharks coming in to check us out.

Hang Out In The Grand Canyon

The Grand Canyon really is an awesome spectacle. After I hiked to the bottom the first time, I knew I had to come back and spend more time there. So that went on my list. This is one of the items on my list that has multiple check marks next to it. I ended up spending a lot of time at the bottom of one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World.

One visit that was particularly memorable was the time a friend and I decided to spend a week hiking in the Canyon. We were both seasoned Canyon hikers and spent several hours discussing where we would hike this time - finally deciding to take the Clear Creek Trail. If my memory serves me correctly, it was June, so it was just a bit warmish down in the canyon. I think the daytime temperatures were around 110 degrees (F.). The first day, we hiked down the South Kaibab Trail and camped at the bottom of the canyon near Phantom Ranch. I do like a beer (or two) every now and then. But, as long as I live, I don't think I'll ever forget how good that first beer tastes after hiking for three or four hours in that oven like heat. We didn't stay at Phantom Ranch, but it's just a short walk from the campground where we set up. They were more than happy to sell beer to campers as well as their guests.

The next day, we got up bright and early - and I mean early - like 4:30 A.M. We wanted to get our heavy hiking with our backpacks done before the heat down in the canyon got to be too bad. I think it was about a nine mile hike from where we were camped to the Clear Creek camp. We each had quite a bit of water with us, but we knew we would drink a lot to keep ourselves from dehydrating in the hot dry climate. The hike itself was enjoyable. I remember it did get a bit hilly at one point. I also remember at one point I was lost in some sort of daydream as we just kept plodding along. I was in the lead and came around a sharp turn in the trail. As I turned, I happened to look down and saw that I was about to place my boot right on top of a sleeping rattlesnake. I can't tell you what exactly happened at that moment, but I do know that a split second later I was about five feet from where I had been. I'm not sure, but I think I may have walked on air :-)

My hiking companion had a great laugh when he realized what had transpired. After my heart slowed back down to the point where I could breathe regularly, I told him he'd get his someday. Little did I know that his comeuppance was not far away.

We hiked on through the morning. As we did, the temperature deep down in the canyon began to climb. Soon we were perspiring heavily. We wrapped bandannas around our heads to keep off the sun and to keep the sweat from running into our eyes. I think we must have been about a mile from our destination when I looked back to check on my partner's progress. He was nowhere to be seen. I shrugged my pack from my shoulders and sat on a rock to wait for him to catch up. He had dropped back quite a bit, but soon I saw him rounding a bend back down the trail. As I waited for him, I took a sip of some of the last water I had with me. I was going to be a bit short of water, but I knew I could make the distance. As my buddy got closer to me, I could tell something was a bit amiss. I noticed that his gait appeared somewhat irregular. As he reached me, I noticed that he seemed a bit unstable. I had to stand up and stop him. He seemed like he was going to keep wandering on. And that was the key. He was wandering. I looked at his eyes. They were unfocused. I held onto him and told him to take off his pack. My voice seemed to bring him back to the present.

It turns out that he had been drinking his water somewhat faster than I and that he had run out quite a ways back. I could tell the heat was starting to get to him. There was no shade anywhere nearby, so I couldn't get him out of the sun. But I did know that our destination was not that far away. Still, in his condition, I was skeptical about him and his pack making it the rest of the way safely. I shared what water I still had with him as we sat for a short time. I didn't want to wast time dallying. Finally I told him that we were going to leave his pack where we were and continue on together to the campsite at the creek. We did know that the creek ran all year long and that there would be water there. He didn't argue with my suggestion, so I stashed his pack behind a boulder out of sight of the trail and, we headed off again. Without his loaded pack, he seemed to do quite a bit better.

We had gone about a half mile and my buddy began to mumble something. I couldn't quite catch what he was saying, so I stopped and asked him to repeat himself. He gave me a sort of bleary look and said "This is a fine way to treat British royalty."

I shook him gently and brought him back to time present. I took out my last water bottle. I let him sip some of the remaining water and then blotted some onto my head rag and wiped his face. This worked a bit. I told him we needed to keep going. He was quite amiable and off we again went. It wasn't too much longer before we could see the creek ahead. That seemed to be what was needed to give my buddy the wherewithal to make it the last hundred yards or so to our goal.
Once we were able to slowly replenish the water in our bodies, my friend made a complete recovery. We actually laughed about a phrase that we now use whenever we see each other to this day. Whenever something bad happens to my friend, we quip "That's no way to treat British royalty."
We camped at Clear Creek for several days. From there, we hiked down to the Colorado River and watched as groups floated by on rafts or dories. In the other direction, we explored historical parts of the canyon.

During other trips to the Canyon, I have hiked on many of its fine and adventurous trails in addition to Clear Creek: Bright Angel, North & South Kaibab, Tonto, Hermit, Boucher, Kanab Creek and the Bass Trail. Those who enjoy history would appreciate the lore of the Grand Canyon. Some of the trails were used by rustlers back in the 1800's. Many were used by miners who sought their fortunes within the confines of the Canyon. The Hermit and Boucher Trails refer to Louis Boucher, a miner and hermit whose tales are part of Canyon lore.

Trek the Sahara

I can't tell you what initiated my desire to trek the Sahara and sleep beneath a sky filled with stars from horizon to horizon without a light in sight. I do know it was on my list for a long time before I did it. Something piqued my interest when I was very young. Maybe it was watching French Foreign Legionnaire Buster Crabbe dash gallantly from a mud walled oasis to challenge a nefarious ne'er-do-well. I'm not sure, but the desire to walk or ride alongside a nomad into the greatest desert on the globe just grew stronger as my life progressed. And, one day I found myself boarding a plane in Anchorage bound for Ouarzazate, Morocco, a former French Foreign Legion outpost on the edge of the Sahara.

Just getting to Ouarzazate was an adventure in itself. The journey there definitely didn't happen as planned. Instead of landing at that far away destination in a plane, we found ourselves arriving there late at night after driving over the Atlas Mountains from Marrakech due a cancelled Royal Air Maroc flight that stranded us in Casablanca. That's a fun and colorful story in itself, but I need to get back to the Sahara story.

Despite the quick change in travel plans, we did get to Ouarzazate in time to meet our guide, who drove us to to Mhamid, the last village on the edge of the desert, where our Sahara odyssey began.
Our hosts served us a scrumptious lunch before piling us into a well-used Land Rover for an afternoon drive to the Sacred Oasis of Oum Laalag, where we spent the night and changed our method of transport from vehicle to camel. That night we spent our first night under the Sahara stars.

As the setting sun disappeared below the western horizon, the oven hot desert temperatures immediately began to abate. A light breeze blew up and helped cool the evening. Again, our hosts spread a small feast out for us consisting of tagine, freshly baked bread, the ever present sweet mint tea and other tasty morsels. After dinner, our guides brought armloads of rugs and blankets out into the center of the oasis and prepared sleeping pallets for us. After our long adventurous day, they felt as comfortable as our bed at home. No sooner had I laid my head upon my pillow than I fell into a deep sleep. Some hours later, about midnight I think, I awoke. I was on my back. As I slowly became aware of my surroundings, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. There was no ambient light to dim the sight above me. The sky was alive. Millions of stars brightly shined against the velvety black celestial backdrop. From horizon to horizon, the heavens poured rivers of twinkling while lights across the black sky canvas. I lay there for some time just taking in the spectacle. I was awestruck. This was what I had come for, or at least a big part of what I had come for, and I was not disappointed. As I lay beneath my warm blanket, I felt as if a vortex was pulling me up into the stars, planets, constellations and solar systems. The Milky Way, a solid white starlit skyway, slashed its way across the heavens. I didn't want to close my eyes to return to my slumber. Yet I felt so safe, so warm, so relaxed and so much a part of everything around me that I slowly slipped back into sleep. The next time I opened my eyes morning was approaching. The starry carpet still stretched across the awakening sky, but daylight was forcing its retreat.

After we awoke and enjoyed a tasty morning meal, it was time to begin the camel trek. The cameleers brought the camels to the entrance of the oasis, saddled them and packed our gear into the Saharan version of panniers. After a short primer on camel etiquette and riding, we mounted our beasts and then held on while they rocked to their feet. Camel riding must be an acquired taste, and I don't think I mastered it very well. Our saddles sat almost on the animal's rumps. Their gait was difficult to get used to, and the saddles were unforgiving despite the blankets piled atop them. After about an hour's ride, we came to a small oasis and stopped for some water. Following the short break, I opted to walk along with the cameleers rather than remount. We traveled until about 11:30 when I noticed one of the Nomads scanning the horizon looking for something.

"Que cherchez-vous," I asked. He was looking for a tree. Over the next hour I learned that we were looking for a large tree under which to spend the next several hours, the hottest part of the day. It would be too hot for us to be out in the desert in the midday sun. The tree appeared, the cameleers took the gear off the camels, hobbled them, and left them to find their own place to rest. Again, our hosts prepared us a traditional lunch, tagine, le pain de sable (bread baked in the sand) and hot mint tea. It seemed a bit odd that were were eating a hot meal in the intense heat, but they explained to us that our bodies actually reacted well to it. We didn't argue. The meal was terrific. After lunch, we all stretched out on rugs in the shade of the big tree and napped.

About 3:00, the Nomads stirred. They said we would be getting going again. It was a few hours trek to our overnight bivouac, the famed Chgaga Dunes. The afternoon walk in the desert was actually pleasant. Our shashes kept the direct sun off of us, but were not burdensome. It was very hot and we perspired continuously, but our hosts had plenty of water along for the trek and they urged us to drink it frequently. As the sun began to sink toward the western horizon, we arrived at our destination for the day.

The Chgaga Dunes were spectacular in the late afternoon light. We took off our shoes, grabbed our cameras and took off exploring while the Nomads made camp and began preparing our evening meal.
Our supper was predictably good. Following it, our hosts spread rugs out on the sand, took out their drums and sang. It was quite an experience sitting at the base of the massive dunes, low light emanating from a couple of candle lamps, listening to the spirited Arabic melodies.
That night my sleep was just like that of the previous night, only I kept myself awake longer in the middle of the night watching the sky. It was alive with activity. The stars twinkled. An occasional shooting star flew across the panorama. Satellites flashed as they traveled their lofty assigned paths.
Our adventure in the Sahara was an experience we still talk fondly about today. The only problem with ticking off items from the list is that we have then done them, and we no longer can look forward to that new experience. But the list still contains many adventures we can look forward to - and we do!

Have A Son

The Cuban patriot, José Martí, said that you reach the plenitude of manhood when you plant a tree, have a son, and write a book. I have planted enough trees so that anyone reading this who has not done so can borrow one of mine. The manuscript for the only book that I might have ever written was consumed inside a fiery barrel stove in the Alaska wilderness one evening when I had a couple snorts too many from my scotch bottle. And I do have two children, one each, a son and a daughter. Life is full of happenstance, and one of those is that my son and I are particularly close. I won't say that it's because we're both what he terms "knuckleheads", but, both being Taurus', we both know what it is to grab something and shake it like a pit bull. We have found a lot in common over the years. I think he's a particularly warm, fun and caring person. But what I appreciate about him a lot is that he and I share the same sense of humor (most everyone forgives us for that), irreverence for pomposity (FTITCTAJ), and joi de vivre. He's done some pretty nutty things in life, and that sets him aside from many who just never have the spirit to do such things.
I point out to him that's because he did such a sensible thing as following my example of serving our country in a time of need in the Navy (me: Viet Nam; him:the Gulf War). He corrects my reasoning by saying he followed me into the Navy because he wanted to see if he might find a clue about how to deal with my eccentricities. Life fills our schedules every day, and we probably don't get together in person as much as we should. But we both know the other is out there, never take each other for granted, and we check in with each other frequently on the phone, via texting or mentally across the miles.


Live in the Alaska Wilderness

As I mentioned in a previous post, Nature and I really click. One of the items on my list took a while to engineer, but I never doubted that I'd achieve it. Finding a way to live out in the Alaska wilderness just took some perseverance. Now, this isn't the same kind of hairbrained adventure that young Chris McCandless undertook. His formula pretty well guaranteed that he'd run into trouble. As you might gather from my story about hiking the Continental Divide, big adventures don't scare me. I love 'em. But, research and planning make all the difference.

I was working in a hunting camp south of Jackson Hole. Hunters came there to mostly hunt elk, moose and mule deer. Most of the hunters came from across the 48 contiguous states. But, during one of the hunts, a man and his wife from Glennallen, Alaska came to hunt the elk and mulies. Heavens knows the moose in Alaska were huge compared to Wyoming moose, so Alaska hunters mainly came for the two critters they couldn't find in any size or quantity up there. As is wont to happen in hunting camps, folks become friends and find out a lot about each other. Well, once I got to know the Alaska couple, I said that I'd really love to go up there and live in the wilderness and maybe do the same kind of work I was then doing. It just so happened that these folks knew an old codger who had a hunting camp in a spectacular part of Alaska. They said they saw him every once in a while, and they would mention to him that they had met someone who might like to talk with him about a job.

Well, heck, you know how those things go. After a few months I forgot about the conversation. In the middle of the following winter I received a post card from the Alaska guide that the couple had told me about. He said that he understood I had some of the skills he was looking for and asked me to write him about what I could do. We exchanged a couple of letters and then he told me to meet him on a certain day in a small town in eastern Alaska. He'd pick me up and then fly me out to his camp. I had the job.

So, on May 29th, the appointed day, having made the journey from Wyoming to Alaska, I was right where he told me to be. I had a trunk, a duffel bag and my hunting rifle with me. He appeared, introduced himself, told me to get my gear into his car and off we drove for Chitina, where he kept his two airplanes. There he piled me and my gear into a Super Cub and off we went into the wild blue yonder.

Now, you talk about spectacular mountain scenery! For about and hour and a half we flew over some of the most beautiful and remote land anywhere on earth. At one point, we were winging our way through a pass that had vertical walls that must have been 1,500 ft. high. And then suddenly we popped out of the canyon, flew over the tail of a medium sized glacier, and found ourselves in a broad river valley. My new boss began to lose altitude. He pointed ahead at an island to one side of the river bar and said, "there's your new home."

The Cub came to a stop at the end of a dirt landing strip on the river's shore not far from the island. There was a small channel of watewr running between us and the island. Most of the river was on the other side of the island. We lugged my gear across a small plank bridge and found ourselves at the end of a clearing amidst towering spruce trees. A barn and corral were to our left. Several log cabins dotted the clearing. We headed for a two-story cabin in the center of things.
My digs were on the second floor of what I learned we called the "main cabin". Later I learned that this cabin had been built by a Colorado gold mining outfit in the early 1900's. The cabin logs were massive - maybe 20-24" in diameter, and the cabin had sunk 6-8" into the ground over the years.

As soon as I was settled, my new boss showed me around the place before dinner. The next morning, we were up early. We had a quick breakfast, and then we got back into the Piper. He flew me around the valley showing me where the horses normally could be found and giving me the general lay of the land. After about an hour's flight, he landed. He kept the plane running and told me to go ahead and get out. He said he had things to tend to in town and would see me in a few weeks. With that, he revved up the engine, taxied to the end of the strip, turned the Super Cub around, gunned the engine and disappeared into the air in a cloud of dust. So much for the honeymoon.

This place became home for me, and I enjoyed every minute that I spent there. During the few months of hunting season, the camp was bustling with activity. The rest of the year, it was my solo domain. Of all the months I spent there alone with no way to contact the outside world, I always felt secure and never anxious. I learned every day and experienced some things that were, to say the least, unique.

A passage from my journal reads:
January 12: -23 degrees F.
"It's good to get back outside after our second cold snap when the mercury nearly hit -70 degrees F! (-57 degrees celcius) ... temperatures in the -20's are not considered cold ...."

Hike The Continental Divide

Nature has amazing power and energy. I have always connected with it. Early in life, I realized that there were many things I wanted to do that I would not be able to do if I waited too long. So, I decided to take a few years to do some of these things while I was still young. One of them was to hike the Continental Divide.

I was hanging out in Tucson (checking off another item on my list) when I decided to undertake this journey. It took about a year to plan the hike. The adventure itself lasted two years.

The logistics of the trip were actually fairly simple. I made a list of the gear that I would need to take with me. Gradually, as my meager paychecks allowed, I gathered the items together. Fortunately, I was working in a sporting goods store at the time, so I was able to obtain much of the gear direct from the manufacturers at a discount. I spent months pouring over topographic maps of my planned route. I estimated how may calories I would burn during an average day, and developed a menu (primarily of freeze dried foods) that would keep my body fueled. I enlisted the aid of friends to create my resupply network. The plan was simple. It consisted of boxes of supplies (food, film, t.p., etc.) that I packed ahead of time and addressed to myself at general delivery in towns along my hiking route. I put a mailing date on each box and gave my friends the money for postage. All they had to do was go to the post office on the date specified on the package and mail the parcel to me. As long as I stayed on schedule, the boxes would be waiting for me along the way. Ultimately, the plan worked out just as I hoped it would. I'm still thankful for reliable friends to this day.

The great hike itself started in Springtime in New Mexico. I had to wait to start until the snow would be out of my high country route when I gained altitude in Colorado. I didn't want to wait too long, however, because I didn't want to get caught by Fall snows in Wyoming as my first year of the hike ended near Jackson Hole.

As you may have guessed, I hiked most of the route solo. A friend did join me for part of the first year's trip, but it was my intent to make most of the trek alone. That was the only way I would be able to commune with Nature the way I wanted to. I did have to deal with the possibility of being injured and consider that I could die alone without hope of a rescue along the route. I'm here today thirty years later, so I guess the worst didn't occur.

As you might imagine, the trip was an incredible experience. Walking 1,800 miles up the backbone of America over two years changed me forever. I met some wonderful people along the way. I learned a lot about myself. And, I learned a lot about living in synch with Nature. Many of the lessons I learned during that trek are visible in my personality today.

My "Shipping Out" Story

I enlisted in the Navy under what they called the "120-day delay" program. During the VietNam War, they'd promise you anything as long as you'd sign on the dotted line. So, I had 120 days to spend with family and friends before I shipped out to boot camp. The Navy told me to report to the Armed Forces Processing Center in Butte when it was time. So, I dutifully did that. There was a group of us that all reported in that same day. None of us knew each other, but we all got to know each other pretty well that day as we were processed. The Navy told us that they'd signed us all up together under what they called the "buddy" program. That way we'd all go to boot camp together and be in the same training company there. We spent the day having every part of our bodies probed, inspected, thumped and looked at. The government gave us written tests, too, telling us the test results would indicate what type of Navy job were best suited for. We all ended up with different specialties. Mine was going to be aviation fire control. That was a far cry from being a Navy diver, which is what I really wanted to be. But, they convinced me that working on aircraft missile control systems was a glorious and very special job that they saved for men like myself.


After we were done at the processing center late in the day, they gave us our papers and our instructions. We were to board a bus for Chicago the next morning. They also gave us some vouchers for rooms at a local hotel as well as others for dinner that night and breakfast the next morning. I was appointed the group leader and was told that I had to make sure everyone got on the bus the next morning and stayed on it all the way to our destination.

Later that evening after we used our vouchers for what we jokingly referred to as "our last supper". Although none of us was old enough to buy liquor, one of the guys, Jim, looked as if he might be able to pass for twenty-one. So, we pooled some of the cash we had between us and sent Jim off to try to score some alcohol for us. Sure enough, after about twenty minutes Jim returned with some beer and whiskey. We spent the next hour or two talking, drinking the beer and passing the whiskey bottle around. As the alcohol did its job, the subject inevitably turned to girls and sex. Some of the guys began to talk about how it was going to be a long time before they would get laid again since boot camp would figure fairly prominently in our plans for the next several months. One of the guys who was from the Butte area suggested that we go visit a local establishment that specialized in meeting the types of needs under discussion in our group, mainly that of getting men together with women - for a price. He knew a place not too far from our hotel that he called "Dumas". Some of the group immediately thought this would be a great way to spend some of the last cash they had and began to talk up the possibility. Now, for me, this was uncharted territory and I began to get a bit nervous. Not only had I never visited a place such as the one under discussion; I had never been with a girl, sexually that is. Not that I had never thought of it; it just had never happened. And, as I recall, the idea of starting my sex life in the arms of a professional woman didn't really seem to do it for me. Of course, the testosterone level in our bunch was high that night and the liquor helped break down barriers for some of the guys, too. So, before I knew it, I, as well as the entire group of us, were trooping out of our hotel behind the local kid who said he knew the way to this place of some repute.

As our small band of the newest sailors in Uncle Sam's great U.S. Navy walked along the streets, I asked myself what in the Sam Hill was I getting myself into. Or, at least, I think my foggy young mind must have been thinking something like that. Truthfully, my memory is mercifully unclear of much that transpired after about six beers and my share of the whiskey bottle. I do recall our arriving at the house in question. We were granted admittance, and I recall there was a fair amount of oooh-ing and aaah-ing from all those gathered there when they learned that the group of young men that had stumbled up the steps and into the place were, in fact, headed out for military service the very next morning. My merciful lack of recall from that evening's activities is not merciful enough to keep me from recalling some of the memories. I do remember following one of the ladies up the stairs and into her room, and I do remember that all of her very likely prodigious experience and talent could not coax my body to deliver what was required for a successful "meeting". Of course, that was just between her and me. The price was the same whatever she and I did or did not do. So, after tyding up, my lady of the evening led me back downstairs where I awaited the rest of my new buddies. I do remember that, somehow, we all did get on the bus the next morning. I also recall that there was conversation about who had done what with whom the previous evening. I also learned two more things over the ensuing years. One thing was that I was not the only guy who had not been able to perform that evening. The other was that the establishment we visited was a place of some fame, being the well known Dumas Brothel on Butte's Mercury Street (that is it in the photograph above). Although it is no longer is in business, I have learned that it was one of the longest standing businesses of its type in the West and served its male patrons from 1890 until 1982.

So now I may have misled you. My list was shorter following this event. But, the item I crossed off my list was "Military service", not "have sex for the first time". That item remained on my list for a short time longer.

Join the Navy



This might be a good place to start. Chronologically, it works. It's back toward the beginning of the list. Every kid who goes into the service remembers that as a BIG event in their young lives. It sure was for me. Actually, I wanted to enlist in the Coast Guard, not the Navy. But I couldn't find a Coast Guard recruiter in Montana - or something like that. So, heck, the Navy still would let me cross the item off my list.
This is the picture the Navy sent my mom when I graduated from boot camp in Great Lakes, Ill.
Now I suppose you want some sort of Navy story. Well, I do have a lot of them. Actually, some of my Navy stories are other items from my list. And, well, there are other Navy stories that never woulda made the list and sure aren't going to make it into print here.
So, OK, here's a quick one. I think it's one of the most embarassing moments of my life. Maybe I wasn't embarassed; more like mortified. Or freaked out. Heck, you decide. My memory isn't terribly clear about the event. And, oh yeah, this is one of the things that was another item on my list. It just didn't happen like I'd ever dreamed it would.
(Remember this is a blog ... so you need to look ABOVE this post for the next one.)