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First things being first..

There are several new additions under the, duh, New Additions with lots more to follow as I got some wonderful scenery in Montana...I can hear it now, "Gee I bet that was hard Jim."

I should also add that all future "New Additions" will appear first on a new Jim Tunell Photography Face Book page and next on the website...because if it doesn't cut it with that crowd, it's going in the bin.

In all honesty, it has turned into a good venue for getting an immediate thumbs up or down on them...besides, I gotta use it for something.

It's been a odd few months and I am keenly aware that I am hugely over due on this RoadNotes...and even though I'm tempted to say that because of the delay, it will be twice as interesting, unfortunately RoadNotes is not like a fine wine that gets better with time, on the contrary, it's closer to a dead trout.

Again truthfully, I have been less than inspired of late (at least when it comes to RoadNotes), but that said, someone much wiser than I said "you're already this late, you might as well make it right."...wish I had listened to them...here it is anyway.

Oh! And for those of you who like a visual along with your text, I started writing this from the confines of the Rock Creek Lodge in Clinton, Montana, home of the world famous and recently concluded, Testicle Festival...

Unfortuantely all did not flow as I would have liked at that point and now, several weeks later, I am putting the finishing touches together here at the Oxen & Yoke in Utica, Montana...Utica is the one-time home to the legendary western artist, C.M. Russell Russell

Not to mince words, the bar is AMAZING...it's a veritable museum of Central Montana Cowboy culture...if they had a website I'd link you to it, but if they had a website you'd know it wasn't the real deal...but take my word for it, it's a pleasure...and any bar that still proudly serves Old Crow, gets my vote (That's Charlie keeping watch behind the bar).

Is It Life Imitating Art Or

I was in the restroom of a travel plaza ((truck stop) in Braman, Ok where I had stopped for the evening, when a burly Kay County Sheriff in a Stetson walked in as I was washing my hands. Without a beat, he asked if I was a trucker. "Uh, oh", I thought...I've seen this in the movies and it never turns out good for the guy in the toilet till the ending and I don't plan on being around that long...

I then decided honesty was the best policy and said, "No, I feel like one, but I'm a photographer." "A photographer huh? Where you headin'?" he responded.

Now this is where I usually start to get myself in trouble, because I had already told him more than I thought was his business knowin'...but I decided to play ball at this juncture, as I wasn't in the mood for another RoadNotes story where I come out on the downside so soon. "Oklahoma City". I said, "but not until the morning"..

"Well I wonder if you wouldn't mind taken a fella with ya?" I knew immediately who he was talking about as I had seen another obviously "on the road" full timer in front of the plaza when we pulled in, only he was minus the trailer, but not the dog. "That guy with the dog out front?", I asked. "Yea, he said.

No problem" I said, and at the same time I was wondering, "Ok, what he do that they wanted him gone, but couldn't arrest him for it?". "I'll be leaving about seven. The Sheriff tipped his hat, said thank you and was gone.

"Great", I thought. "This has got RoadNotes written all over it".

As I left the store, the Sheriff was already talking to my travel companion. "This is the fella who's going to give you the ride.", he said. To which my companion said, "Are those dogs you was walkin' earlier males or females?" "I have each", I responded. "Well mine's in heat and I don't want no puppies".

The fact that my new friend was so high maintenance, caught me a bit off guard, so I'm afraid I responded rather curtly when I said, "Don't worry, they're not real dog friendly, so they won't be riding together...in fact they're not real pepople friendly either. I'll be leaving at seven." The Sheriff laughed and thanked me again.

Well 7 AM came around and I took my dogs out for their walk and began to look for my rider...I looked in all of the obvious places, by the fueling station, the on ramp heading south, the gully where I'd seen him bed down the night before, but nothing....

I put the dogs into the truck and went into the truck stop for sme coffee and poked around the bathrooms and then stuck my head into the diner, but again, nothing.

"Hmmm", this is troubling", I thought...not so much because I cared about giving him a ride, but because I had told the Sheriff I would give him the ride and even if cops have not always played it straight with me, I'm a man of my word and wanted to do what I said I'd do...not to mention I had already made more than an effort that I should in looking for this guy and I knew I was only doing it for one reason...it was a RoadNotes story in the making and it needed him to make it happen...I then decided I would deserve everything I got if this ended up being a mistake, so I decided to leave.

I approached the woman working the counter and explained that I had told the Sheriff that I would give some guy who'd been out front yesterday a ride into Oklahoma City, and I didn't want him to think I'd lied to him, but the guy wasn't around. "That guy with the dog?", she asked. "Yeah, but he's either sleepin' in or already got a ride.", I said. "He's been here for a week and suddenly he's gone?" she said incredulously. She then yelled over to her co-worker. "Hey, you seen that guy with the dog whose been hanging around all week? This man was gonna give him a ride."

"No", she said. "He's the one they think stole Stevie's truck and and rolled it and caught it on fire out near Tonkawa." "Well at least now I know why the Sheriff wants him gone.", I said. "Well if he shows, tell him I was here and tell the Sheriff the same if you would."

The co-worker then yelled from the back, "If you find him, kick his ass before you let him out!"

I returned to my truck knowing this would have been a good one, but also knowing I was trying too hard to make it so, and nothing in my life has ever worked out when I tried to force it.

No Way to Go

I had my closest calls yet with tornados in Kansas and Oklahoma...the Oklahoma funnel came within about 5 miles in the end and actually ripped through the campground I was at the week before

For some time was on a direct track toward me, but those gosh darn storm chasers out of OKC let you know where it's heading every step of the way...well done folks. .

While in Goddard, KS the the sirens wailed like they did in Oklahoma, but I was never tempted to take the owner of the KOA up on his tornado service that drives residents of the campground to a nearby cement safehouse .

You see, I'd seen his tornado service vehicle in the front yard as I checked in and firstly, I knew there would be no room for my dogs, and secondly, with my luck, we would drive straight into the dang thing and I would forever be remembered for having met my maker while riding "The Short Bus"...no thanks.

Give me your tired, your poor...your very odd busboys?

After a show at the WIchita Art & Book Fair, I went to a Japanese restaurant where the son of the owners took a look at me and asked, "Is that lobster tail in your hat?".

After I about choked on my sake, I thought, well so much for cultural immersion...but then I thought, perhaps I had discounted this young man's idea too quickly.

I mean if the cowboy lifestyle had taken root in the coastal areas more heavily, or lobsters had littered the Texas hill country, maybe their tails would be as prevalent as the turkey feather he confused it with.

I decided I had not dismissed him too quickly when after discovering I was a photographer, he asked if I could take some pictures of him with his shirt off for his girlfriend...I told him I didn't do that kind of thing, but I knew some photographers who would. He said those photographers would scare him, to which his mother told him he was scaring her and the whole conversation ended abruptly.

Ghosts of the Past.

Can't say I've been to a place other than the U.S. Cavalry stables out at Fort Apache where the ghosts of the past loom quite as large as as they do in the Cimarron National Grasslands.

At the area they call "Point of Rocks", even Chief (my catahoula mix) took in the majesty and the unimaginable stories to be told from the days gone by, which are made even more apparent by the wagon tracks which can still be seen on the Santa Fe Trail below.

Update..Went to the Custer Battlefield...if there aren't ghosts there, they're nowhere.

Death Seems To Be Following Me.

Well, that's not entirely accurate in this case...through no fault of my own, I was following death for a switch.

You see it was about noon as we were traveling from Kansas to Colorado when up ahead at a gas station in Springfield, CO a hearse pulled out in front of me.

Now hearses don't get mileage by the good deed, it's by the gallon like any other vehicle, but I've never seen one stop for a fill up in the MIDDLE of the procession!

And to turn the macabre into the ridiculous, the driver, who appeared to be a kid not even old enough to drive muchless carting the dearly departed, pulled out in front of me allowing only the next of kin enough time to fall in behind him.

As I was now officially third in line, the rest of the cars in the procession took their turns wading into trafiic in what had now become an extremely long line of cars, trucks and trailers.

As we drove the length of town, there was finally an opportunity for the driver to undue his mess, but in the end I could only think that perhaps it was all intentional.

In my rearview mirror I could see that the orginal procession was a bit paltry which made me wonder what kind of crowd I'd fallen in with, so perhaps in a small town where everyone knows everyone else's business, the family was only trying to insure that the deceased would forever be remembered as having had one of the greatest turnouts for a good bye in Springfield, Colorado history.

Ashamedly, they're still probably bad mouthing the jackass who wasn't even respectful enough to drop his horse trailer before he attended.

Random Thought

While irony will always be lost on my four-legged companions, when hiking in the hills outside of Pueblo Lake, Co where we had camped for a few days, I found it entirely odd, that the "Rodeo Trail" was completely devoid of broncs, bulls and even well, cowboys...and the "Hi_Tech" trail certainly didn't rquire a PHD to traverse, nor was it littered with abandoned PC's...so how come it is when we made our way through "Rattlesnake Trail"?...well you get the picture...and I was just wonderin' is all...

The Lord Works In Strange Ways (as if I didn't know)

I guess I need to be a bit more specific when it comes to my prayers. From the first week of April until the Fourth of July, I had experienced and suffered from foul weather at every show.

Now it's hard enough to make a living selling art in what our President has called "the worst economic downturn since the great depression" without mother nature kicking sand in your face or in this case raining on my (and every other artist's) parade for such a long period of time.

To put it bluntly, I was in a world of hurt and really needed a good show at America's Freedom Festival in Provo, Utah. But with an anticipated crowd of 300,000 and good weather in the forecast, the gods were smiling.

Well as I've been known to say, on that first day, if compliments were credit cards, I'd be a rich man...but they ain't..so I began to worry on the first day when I went home with an anemic total of $85 bucks and an antler knife I traded a picture for.

Note to self: when folks want to trade on the first day or buy your displays, it's a bad sign)

Being the eternal optimist, I knew things would be better on day two as it was a Friday and my other shows in Utah on Friday had been stellar...

Note to self: having a good show on Friday in other Utah towns does not commit the stroller crowd of Provo to spending dime one.)

WIth that in mind, I was surprised and a bit chagrined to go home this, the second day with just $200 more."Not good", I thought... but hey, tomorrow was another day and on that day, more than half of that crowd of 300,000 would be lining the streets for the Freedom Fest Parade!!!

Yes, my prayers were to be answered and I hadn't even said them yet...so that night as I climbed into my bunk...by the way just noticed my air mattress is flat which seems to coincide with Diesel sleeping up there the last three nights...but I digress...

So as I bed down for the eve, I took an extra long moment on this night to explain to anyone who might be listening, that I had had enough of the starving artist thing to last for some time...and that while I don't mind a good kick in the nether regions every now and then to remind where I came from, week after week was getting old.

I then offered, "Quite frankly, whoever you are??? I needed to save may ass....so if God, the Great Father, Buddha, or any other ancillary deity might see their collective way clear to put a sheckle or two in my pocket, I would be most appreciative."

I added that I wasn't asking for much, just enough to get through to the next show and that on my end I would redouble my efforts in support...

Hmmmmm...well as I arrived early the next morning full of inspiration, I sensed an energy, or presence that I couldn't put my finger on... I looked around and didn't notice anything initially, so attributed this feeling to the fact that I never arrive early as my mornings are consumed with dog walking...but on this morning, I was ready to go.

As I finished opening my booth for the excited and willing buyers that had not yet arrived, I still could not shake the feeling that somehow my prayers had been heard the night before. I only hoped that my efforts would be worthy on this day...as I sat back in my chair and enjoyed my first sip of coffee, I scanned the beautiful park atmosphere and shade trees...and realized it was not just the hopeful wishes of a desparate man that had made me suspect my voice had been heard earlier...as it truly had.

For as I my eyes settled on the ATM that had gone unnoticed on the previous two days, it was then that I realized that whoever was listening the night before had given me the tools and the help I had asked for, now was I willing to help myself?

I've Been Out Too Long

I had been out in the woods for several days and couldn't wait to get a shower. As I entered the bathroom at the Winding River Rv Resort, I was speechless...it was as classy and well detailed as any bathroom I had ever been in.

Marble counters, stone tile inlay, copper fixtures...just stunning...but why spend that kind of money on bathrooms at an RV camground. "Who cares" I thought...I felt like our military members must feel when in country and would kill for some warm water.

I quickly tore my dirty shirt off and I began to shave in bowls that were close to swimmable...looking human again, I looked for a urinal but not seeing one right away, I settled for a stall...

I then jumped into a shower stall which was also lined with the same stone tiles and to my amazement had none of those ridiculous low yield shower heads... these things ripped....life was good.

I quickly began to undress, but when I removed my pants reality came crashing in...from my upper thighs to my ankles, something didn't look right...there was a blue cast to my legs that looked dangerously like my circulatory system was shutting down.

I stopped for a moment to think if I had in anyway injured myself while out in the last few days and while I had been a bit lethargic lately, I attributed that to so much rain and bad shows of late. when I should have attributed it to was the brand new jeans I had put on before I went into the woods!

Relieved my thoughts quickly went back to one of the most rewarding showers I had ever experienced. I left the bathroom, clean like I had never been clean and wanting to shake the hand of the man who had built this bathroom.

Before I left, I took one more appreciative look at the facility and then again unsuccesfully looked for the urinal...instead, I settled once more for the stall. It was then that I realized that not many men would ever enjoy this bathroom like I had, as it was indeed the women's john.

Different Minds Think...well different...

As I arrived at my campground in Gypsum, Co just outside Glennwood Springs, I was excited as just adjacent to the campground there was a lot with a turn-of-the-century wagon that would have made for some great pictures if I could get access to it.

As I entered the office and approached the desk, the women on duty almost breathlessly asked "Did you see how amazing and shiney that motorhome is?

"Where?", I asked. She turned and pointed to a 60ft behemoth diesel pusher pulling away that I had just walked past..."Oh yea", I said.

I then asked her, "Hey, do you know who owns that great old rusty wagon? "Where?", she asked...

Further evidence that we all see what we want to see.

They Used to Call This Walking It Off...

I met a fella at a KOA in Colorado two years ago and during my visit, he fell and broke his arm badly.

Well I saw him again a few weeks ago and asked how things turned out...he said they had reset it but, wanted to put a "bunch of metal" in so he instead opted to finish the healing procces in a more holistic fashion.

In case you weren't aware, the word "holistic" is akin to "natural" in the sense that it doesn't mean a whole hell of a lot. And in this case his "natural" therapy approach was to carry buckets of water to straighten the dang thing out.

When I asked how that had worked, out, he attempted to straighten the darn thing out which looked painful to me and replied, "Not too bad...goes most of the way."

We said our good-byes and as he walked off, I thought now there's one tough son of a bitch...who will never forget what a right angle is...ouch.

They Used to Call it Seeing Pink Elephants

But then again, this is Wyoming...I went out for a quick bite in Casper, Wyoming. As usual, it was at some "joint" nearby the RV park that preys on the likes of me...

As I sat down to order anything substantial as it was a Saturday night, I was pleasantly surprised that the no one was seated nearby and since I had no one to share it with, I was more than pleased because, on that night, I felt the world could go to hell...and then it I did.

I took a seat at the bar and ordered a tomato and onion pizza (No meat she asked?) which already set off alarms in this place which was packed with rugged looking young, manual type labor guys (turns out they were oil workers) in their early 20's... well as I sat and waited for my pie to arrive, four or five of them surrounded me and began their assault...the first one ordered beers, while the next went straight for the shots of some denomination... another wanted some of both and somewhere in between, they decided I was fair game and ordered for me as well...

No, no, no, is the way I usually respond when drinks are forced upon me, but this was a bunch who didn't know the meaning of the word and could not have heard it if they had.

I'm still not sure if any of us heard anything the other had to say over the short time we were pals, but it didn't matter...they had to be at work early in the morning and I had printing to do all night. ..it was a match made in heaven...or hell

This went on for a very short time, but at an accelerated pace, when I made the wise decision to extricate myself from the affair before I ended up seeing those pink elephants.

I had only eaten one piece of my pizza, ...but waiting for a box would have meant waiting forever and no doubt another drink, not to mention I would have nothing with which to insure my escape..and given I knew what awaited me, it was not an option.

So as I stood to leave, I expected the expected and wasn't disappointed...the louder and youngest of the guys bellowed, "Hey dude, you're not leaving are you?"...now I hate being called dude, but as I've said before, I always choose my battles carefully and on this on this night self preservation was more important and after all, I was a step ahead...

See, the thought of out maneuvering four...five, er six...whatever number of these guys was, was already at the forefront of my mind... and knowing that the likes of them would never pressure any GUY to stay and drink another sip if food was to be left behind, I was ready... "I can't drink anymore, dang, I can't even eat anymore. Do you guys want the rest of my pizza?"

Well after that offer. had I been other than a guy, things would have gotten worse, but being one, handshakes and hugs ensued not to mention a frenzy for the pizza...we then shook hands again and promised to do it the next night (I was lying, not sure about them), but it didn't matter, I held my own on this night against a much younger team..

I then dizzily worked my way through the crowd toward THE exit, only to find that it was just technically AN exit, meaning you could leave the building this way, it just wasn't intended for customers to do so.

As I stepped out into the darkness of a small porch on the side of the building, it was obvious why it was not intended to be an exit, as the only light was an eerie blue cast coming from a Bud Light sign in the window.

I had no interest in waiting for my night vision to kick in, so with an added handicap, I slowly began to feel my way through the junk that had been stored or more aptly, strewn everywhere...wheels all over the floor, cans piled high around, old neon signs on the walls, twisted metal throughout , and a stuffed trophy antelope near the entrance...

I stared at it for a moment and it semingly stared back....but I had enough sense about me to know that that was the alcohol talking...so I continued my retreat

As I worked my way through this field of crap, I was making reasonable headway when suddenly some sort of auto part jumped up and tripped me. "Dang! (or something to that effect)" I yelled...I really wanted to kick it, but I knew who would be on the losing side of that encounter, so I took my wrath out on the trophy antelope who continued to give me the evil eye. "What are you looikng at antelope?"

Needless to say, the antelope didn't respond, and the obsurdity of the whole thing made me laugh especially, when I was reminded of the "pink elephant" syndrome and now here before me in Wyoming, was an antelope, that given the hue from the Budlight signwas undeniably blue.

I laughed again and now comfortable that my new friend and I had settled our differences, I next decided to do what every red blooded American boy does when confronted with a dead thing, you get a closer look. I can't explain it, but that's what boys do...if it's dead, you gotta get a closer look...only in this case, a closer look was too close and my dead blue antelope bolted out of the porch area and into the white light where he looked just like any other Prong Horn buck when not bathed in blue light courtesy of Anheuser-Busch.

Random Thought

Why do I find it telling when with all that the world faces, a grown man in a restaurant with a beautiful family beside him says in all seriousness and a voice loud enough for all to hear, that he could "die a happy man" if his team would only win the championship? Talk about prioities.

Yet More Proof We're a Nation in Decline!

There are all variety of statistics that document how many over 25 year old adults are still living at home, but this tale of a father and son takes the cake...unless of course that cake was part of the food he threw at his father.

Well since last month's 19 year-old internet porn star tale was such a hit, here's a sad story from the other end of the spectrum.

While in Billings, MT, a garish woman who obviously was in possession of greater wealth than class, and who had to be at least 85 (again proving age and wisdom can be mutually exclusive) approached me at the Yellowstone Museum art show and stated very matter of factly, "You're looking awfully tight in that retro hat dude."

She didn't really wait around for an answer, but first time in my life I was truly speechless, of course that could have just been a result of the bile coming up in my throat.

This bumpersticker was plastered on the back of a very nice Lexus, driven by a very respectable (looking) older man who is obviously devoid of an ounce of sense or class.

Forget malaria, tuberculosis, bilious fever and even the simple strep throat that took my Great Grandfather at a young age, today's frontiersman must cope with the dreaded cell phone elbow

And for the record, the young hero pictured here was not a victim of this malady.

I have no idea what it mean, but it can't be good...apparently there is a trend? Movement? Fad? Whatever it is, it can't be good as evidenced by the title alone. "Practically Posh The Smart Girls' Guide to a Glam Life" Here's a link to yet one more obsession America has with the sublime and the ridiculous.

Random Thought...thoughts in this case...

Several weeks ago the nine month anniversary of that no good Hurricane Ike rolled around and according to a RoadNotes reader who also works as an RN in Houston, so did a lot of new babies obviously conceived while most sensible folks were stuck in doors.

Well before any of you get any wild ideas, and while it is well documented by these very RoadNotes that I was in fact in Texas (Ozona to be exact) at the time, trust me I wasn't even tempted in that hellhole...so if a child rears it's ugly head looking anthing like me, remember, I was busy saving doxies then.

Makin' Me Think More Than Once...

Saw a couple of signs on my travels that made me think twice...the first was in the laundry room at Pueblo Lake outside of Pueblo, Co...as I read it, I had to balance whether I would rather have my 50 cents back or deprive a blind child of vision, dodge lightening the rest of my life and visit the gates of hell when it ended...talk about laying it on heavy.

The next made me real glad I wasn't working for whatever company posted this sign...can't imagine reporting for my mall job with my Starbucks "Double Ristretto Venti Nonfat Organic Chocolate Brownie Frappuccino Extra Hot with Foam and Whipped Cream Upside Down Double Blended" and then be told that there was an illegal deposit in the corporate dumpster last night and we'd like you to get to the bottom of it...in more than one way.

Please note that the message is in Espanol, so we may assume that they assume that they are aware that it is not only us english speakers who dump illegally.

Random Thought

Not sure why, but more than a few people get surprisingly unnerved and some downright annoyed when I insist I'm not "from" any where...and oddly, they have no idea why?

When I told a man that in Montana, he angrily informed me that, "Everyone is from somewhere!" When I reiterated that I really wasn't, he left frustrated, only to corner me later at a food booth to tell me that his wife (sure blame her) liked my work and would buy something if only I didn't sign my initial "J" in white. I informed him that she could special order something and I'd sign it in any color she pleased or not at all. His only response was, "Oh yea sure I get it."

Not quite sure what he got, cause it wasn't a print, so I'm gonna assume it was the satisfaction of making someone's day as miserable as his must be every day...that seems to be sport for some people.

And All the King's Men Couldn't...

They say where there's a will there's a way, but I say not always...I found this $100 bill in the grass of a Walmart in Durango, Co and just couldn't conceive as to how I could possibly get it back together again...

Flashback!! (the strip mall was right..exclamation points breed excitment!)

Reminds me when as a kid, my friend's dad forbade him from getting a mohawk so instead he shaved off his eye brows. That night at dinner, his father looked him over from head to to toe. After a moment or two of this once over, my friend said, "What?"

His dad looked him over a second time and said..."I don't know what you did to yourself, but I don't like it." His father never did figure out what it was he didn't like, but it sure made him unhappy...some people go through life like that...unhappy, but never puttin' their finger on it.

And Now For A Bit of the Wildlife

Nah, not that kind...I get too many unsubscribes when I delve into the red zone, they like a better critter story, well...better...so here they are...

While pictures are not always possible when it's htting the fan all around you, during our first ever Badger encounter I was able to get a snap of this rascal (Dang! I CAN'T FIND THE NEGATIVE SO THIS WILL HAVE TO DO.) solely because he either:

1) Wasn't quite sure what happened the first time around. 2) Wanted another crack at us more thane he was worried about another dose of what he got the first time around. 3) Was afraid he would end up in RoadNotes and make all Badgers look bad unless he put up a courageous front.

It all started when the dogs and I went to check out a (yup, another dead thing) dead animal in the middle of a field. In this instance I had an ulterior motive as if it was a wild horse, I would at least know that I was in the right area for them, but it turned out to be just a cow.

To be honest, the dogs enjoyed it more than I did and now that we had "checked it out" and determined that it was not a horse, I pulled the dogs off of it and we made our way back to the truck.

We had been through some real climate swings of late, so the 90+ degreee heat was wearing, but from a dog's perspective, it's never too hot to dig at some ground squirrel holes...and so they did...and while they did and despite what you might be thinking, I was there to shoot wild horses, not check out dead stuff, so I began to survey the Antelope Valley for signs of a herd.

But as I did, I heard a sound foreign to me, which is a rare thing, and turned to see Diesel about to meet his maker at the claws of a Badger. I can only assume that unless you've been attacked by a Badger ( I know a man who was) or read up on them (I have) they don't look much worse than a slightly angrier racoon ( a friend said they're so cute) ...but that would be a dangerous assumption.

You see Badgers have no qualms about taking on any animal or thing on the planet...whether it be Grizzly bear or tractor (there is documented proof) they are fearless. Unfortunately so is Diesel yet he lacks any of the tools to support that quality. So, with that in mind and either a high country burial or an even higher vet bill in my mind, I stepped between them and poked that rascal with my 300mm camera lens before he shreded Diesel from stem to stern.

I've always said, if I can end the day feeling, hearing, or seeing something I've never seen, felt, or heard before, then it's a good day...well I did all three on this day...

A few weeks prior while on an early morning pre-show walk, the crew and I were stomping around the tall grass when between Diesle's legs emerged what can only be described as a heretofore slumbering skunk. If he could have yawned and wiped the sleep from his eyes he would have, so not only did he not know where he was , Diesel and the others two didn't even know he was there.

I quickly yelled to them in that voice that says to them "there's something really great over "here" then gave them a solid tugs on the leashes, leaving the skunk wondering what the hell, and me leaving the area not without a HUGE tomato juice bill...but...no pictures, so it didn't happen.

And finally, and while I am not a doctor, I do play one on the road (when need be). (This stuff always seems to happen when the dogs are with me, but when aren't they?).

We were walking along the banks of the Yellowstone river outside of Billings, Montana, watching some jet skiers wave hop across the rapids, when I noticed that shortly after one skier hit close to us, that a large carp floated to the surface and then drifted to shore.

As I was able to get hold of it before the current took it away, but I wasn't quite sure why (needed to check it out I guess). But given I don't enjoy seeing anything in its final death throes , I was glad to see it was gone.

I proceeded to let Willow play with it a bit before that other instinct I carry with me took over...I hoped for the best... pushing her away, I checked again and detected a gasp for breath...and the rescue was on...

I began about 5 minutes of my famous aquatic deep breathing therapy (totally made up) which resulted in a stunned but otherwise vibrant fish turning tail and simming out into the Yellowstone to live and be crushed into sushi by another jet skier at some future date.

Things I've Learned:

Unlike the Postal Service, ticks really do work in rain, sleet, snow and dead of night.

Not having a television, the only time I miss it is on Memorial Day and D-Day...two really important days.

Not sure why, but I found it very attractive that a woman can get kicked in the face by a horse and laugh about it...

Probably the same sort of reason I can spend the day with a cowboy who lost his hand to a lightening strike and feel nothing but admiration.

The cowboy internet radio music station Cowboy Cultural Society is no more and that's because Linda who was the one "man" band that put it together is no more either.

For those of you who have not heard of it though, I was recently alerted by my good friend Andy to Pandora.com where you basically create your own radio station... to put it mildly, it's great...type in Brenn Hill as your artist and you won't be disappointed.

Alot ofsingle women wear wedding rings when they shouldn't... and at least as many married women don't when they should...don't ask me how I know...but both rub me the wrong way.

Now that the shaved head and goatee look long ago lost any and ALL association with danger and rebelliousness, I'm beginning to miss male pattern baldness and wonder if those on society's fringe element will adopt it again soon.

Both my truck and my hip work better after a good washin'...seems to have the opposite effect on the dogs.

S omething changed of late...I once was on the road... now I truly feel I am of it.

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Somewhere in the West - 928.925.7000.