40 days and 40 nights.......

Here today....gone to the Northeast......for awhile.

Please feel free to e-mail a comment to chasingthecenterline@gmail.com

Men long gone.....

Wandering away from the campsite and looking for a suitable spot to watch the sunset, he approached what is known by some as Cootes Hill. It was from this rise that American soldiers kept watch to the south along the border for elements of the Mexican revolution rumored to be considering an attack, more for the attention than anything else.. Unfortunately for them, they came from the west, far out of the way and of the sight of the soldiers and crushed the small outpost easily. Pancho Villa’s men left their mark on this dirt nearly hundred years (1916) ago.

At the top of the hill he found an old woman with long gray braided hair. She was just beginning an annual ceremony to commemorate her dead husband who had a heart attack on this hill watching the sun do its thing years ago.

She had some flute music and kind words, tears, and some chanting. He stayed and remained quietly engaged. Once the horizon shown pink and purple he hugged her for what ended up being more than a few minutes. It was if he became the old dead man Jacque.

She graciously thanked him for the shoulder. He remarked something about being honored and stumbled down the path of Cootes Hill. No revolutionaries in sight.


Please feel free to e-mail a comment to chasingthecenterline@gmail.com

Further on up the road......

 He understands the fragile line between desire and attainment. But why concern ourselves with accomplishments when we can more easily live vicariously through others. Yet, down deep he senses the need to reach out and up, to set goals that push the minds preconceived limits, ultimately grasping the carrot which provides an injection of life’s syrup, giving birth to the next step forward.

After a second opportunity at Guadalupe Peak, he chose to leave the glory to others. The disappointment runs deep in himself, festering and stirring the remnants of unfinished business. And there is plenty of that.

Our motivation must be rooted somewhere out of sight. After years cutting away the grip of ego and glory has left him at the mercy of mind and body, often out of sync. Here is where the effort needs to be applied. The drive must begin from a source near where the breath oscillates, the soul emanates, and the mind ruminates.

All he knows is that after 15 years of consideration and contemplation, he never even tried to reach the peak.




Please feel free to e-mail a comment to chasingthecenterline@gmail.com

On the border of something special......

A thin border divides two lands. And regardless of who land it was, and who claims it now, for right or for wrong, this fence line divides two peoples from wants, needs, and in his particular case, a cold beer.

In Columbus, NM one only has to walk into the great state of Chihuahua and stumble in any number of cantinas in the sleepy dusty town of Palomas (75 miles or so west of El Paso). He has read about all the violence from the drug cartels in the other border towns, and he was not without some reservations as he began to amble down the streets gaining some perspective. 

And certainly his perspective can quickly be altered by the source of all assured positve perspectives....the blue aqave plant = tequilla.

But once again, as has happened so many times while south of the border, the sun was bright and warm, the people were smiling and welcoming, and the feeling was laid back. Once again he proved to himself that he belongs in these streets, getting lost, and trusting in the gringo-less life of our darker skinned neighbors.


Please feel free to e-mail a comment to chasingthecenterline@gmail.com

A step back in time.....

In 1889 silver and gold was discovered in the Mogollon Mountains above Whitewater Canyon, just outside of Glenwood, New Mexico. Several mines were developed, and ore was hauled in wagons to a mill at the mouth of the Canyon. Water to operate the electric generators came from a pipeline reaching up into the Canyon. Only small indications of this remain

Currently there is a mile long trail that leads up to the water source of the canyon. This is accessible like nothing he has ever seen before by a suspended catwalk that connects the great gaps of rock. The combination of awe between what time and nature has created, and how man has engineered his way through it is truly more impressive than he would have thought if left in a guidebook, inexperienced.

Although a son and brother to strong engineering minds, he still has always been drawn away from the path and laid steps and onto the soil and rock. However this hike shattered the myth that man cannot interact artfully and competently with the timeless brush of the natural world.

Please feel free to e-mail a comment to chasingthecenterline@gmail.com

A small piece of ground.......

Rotating back and forth from one stiff hip to the other, trying to find comfort in the compacted sand and stones, he finally stopped, gave up, and stared up at the stars that spread from horizon to horizon. In a feeble attempt, with a disoriented mind, he attempted to allow himself the advantage of travel amongst the glaring stars. He went there....somehow...and in some way.

And while he looked back at his scratch in the desert and its tiny stain on the planet, he was captivated by the obvious reality of his own infinitesimal and diminutive role in all he could see.

And yet, there he was, a being taking up a piece of soil while mentally soaring through untamed stars, alone as he wished, leaving him to believe that perhaps little or no impact is the explorers quest, an unaccountable odyssey.


Please feel free to e-mail a comment to chasingthecenterline@gmail.com

Drifting along....

People change like the weather. What is in season one minute is out of date the next. The technology available to keep such steady and unrelenting contact drowns out the attention to really listen. We are distracted by the beating of our own drum, while missing the beating of the heart next to us. We are all on our own, a community of drifters.

And drift we will. Sometimes by the heavy current, other times of our own free choice. Either way, our needs are duplicated by many, never a need that hasn’t resonated somewhere else, but seemingly embraced as our own. Nothing is unique. It is pathetic how we claim to be. Once we get over that we can really get something accomplished. The repetitive nature of the sun is responsible for it all. It is the one constant that we can claim, for now anyway.



Adaptation to our lives is constantly underway as we age. It never ceases, and it never will, save for dust and ash. So we adjust to the drift, always keeping the chin above the torrent, and searching for ways to add roots to a depth that might hold us, if only for a little while. Boots on the ground, roots in the soil.


Please feel free to e-mail a comment to chasingthecenterline@gmail.com

Leaving the handrails behind.....

Stepping out of the day to day is really quite revealing. Sure, the comfort zone of the predictable is appealing, and the responsible conclusion of each day on the home front does contain the gravitational pull toward more solid personal and economic expansion, none the less slipping off the radar is amazing in its provision for mental clarity, physical challenge, and individual confidence.


By individual confidence, he refers to the sometimes anguishing realization that we are alone, drifting unleashed, save for the illusions we nurture, and that the connection to this life is completely or at least substantially dependent on our confidence in our self. And that is good. If you are reading these words you are aware of the space around you that has grown larger and requires more confidence to manage as the supports drop away. It is this individual confidence, this unique personal perspective, untethered from fear and doubt, is what we bring to this life.

If you’re still here, you may have experienced that feeling from time to time as you have traveled. Of course electronics can dull the experience, creating a state of constant reassurance; however, every moment has a power off switch, allowing the individual to become absorbed in mind and heart, having that remote feeling that defines us….as necessary individuals.


Please feel free to e-mail a comment to chasingthecenterline@gmail.com

Back......

Tough to return from nights on the ground and stars in the sky.  Travels went south down the center of the state (see obvious valley) and then to the southeast near Alamogordo, down over the state border to Texas,  then drifting back along the Mexican border and crossing at Columbus.  Moving north and west up through Silver City  to the San Francisco River along the Arizona line, all the while straddling the continental divide, and completed the travel through the Gila Wilderness area (among others), and then reluctantly returning.

Please feel free to e-mail a comment to chasingthecenterline@gmail.com

Gone.......

He gone. If only for a while, he gone.

There is only one early spring in the desert, when the sharp light dances in the rise and at set, when the air does wonders just by breathing it, and the colorful desert flowers pop in mass, and it doesn’t last long, so he gone.

Removing the rubber and leather from your feet to wear off the winter crust in the course desert sand, sand so clean and ancient, unlike any other sands that remain submissive to tides and lovers, the desert sands retain no secrets, and offer no excuses. He gone.

No tent will stand in these sands, and the only way to sleep is to fold your bag up in a tarp, like you fold a burrito, allowing the wind and the occasional scorpion to keep moving. Yet the voices remain. Voices that arise from within, unknown at first due to the easy avoidance of the daily life distractions, now resonate and speak little but the truth. He needs that. He gone.

And there should certainly be some dancing. The evening fire displaces the cold desert air and the blood can be venomous from the unsettling inner view, causing uncontrolled movement and gaiety. Desert demons and angels tug, he sips whiskey from the jug, laughing about the absurdity of it all. He gone.

He will be gone from 3/9 -3/18……but then again no one can be responsible on the morning following St. Patties Day, right?

Please feel free to e-mail a comment to chasingthecenterline@gmail.com

Some need.....some don't......

Driving back to the shop he sensed the snow flurries were an early indicator that work would halt soon for the season. He had heard that layoffs were coming soon and that he should be prepared for the immediate cessation of ongoing work and therefore, pay.


Pulling the company truck into the yard he could see a scurrying about that seemed unusual. He inquired and learned that this was the last day for many, he included. Running out to their trucks, fellow workers knew the importance of getting to the line quickly, thereby securing the unemployment benefits and avoiding a gap in the available beer money, and the mortgage as well.

He walked into the cold government office noticing immediately the drab colors and worn tile floor under the feet of the hopefuls standing in line. After taking his spot deep in the order, he stood quietly, lacking any expression, embarrassed. During the wait, and as his feet and hands thawed, he began to look around. Many had been here before; others like him were new to the ordeal.

After nearly 3 hours of standing, he reached the point of next in line. While overhearing the insensitive drilling of questions to the woman in front of him, with her two children in tow, and her desperate responses, he wondered what had led him to this moment of requiring a hand-out, and more importantly, what was he learning from it. As the woman turned with tears streaming down, he turned as well, and walked off and out the door, never missed, but also never to return again.


Please feel free to e-mail a comment to chasingthecenterline@gmail.com

Between here and there.........

Driving all night with hands wet on the wheel…..hardly. Try listening to books on tape and hypermiling across the Midwestern farm fields between here and there. But if we are all attempting to be all here and now, where are we when we are between here and there? He pulled over and got out. He walked off away from the centerline and asked “where are you now idiot?”


The illusion is simply that this all makes long term sense as opposed to some short term justification. We satisfy ourselves with a combination of stimulus packages, designed to motivate us up Maslow’s way, leaving the obvious dilemma of the tipping point of the pyramid for later to figure out. Just what self-actually happens when reach it? Slide down the other side, groping for a foot hold to slow the descent, only to find the angle steeper, slipperier, and much faster than our sycophantic climb up.

All this on the side of the road? Yeah, then he stared out at what appeared to be large robots, many of them, moving across the fields in the dark, only tracked by their large red eyes, and the whooshing noises. Field after field in both directions, gigantic wind turbines were wrestling with the night airstream. It is as lonely out here as the stale coffee simmering in the bottom of the pot in a rural gas station. There no escape, and no desire to.

The road detaches us and leaves us with only ourselves to reckon with, a far cry easier actually then steadying the myriad of masks of each day in our more familiar confines. Yet there is perpetual strain associated with the road that continually requires attention to the mechanics of travel and the pondering, wandering mind. In contrast, comfort is sure……sure confusing.

The endless chase continues as you may have guessed……


Please feel free to e-mail a comment to chasingthecenterline@gmail.com

Carpe diem......

Carpe diem quam minime credula postero –

How is it that one mans nature whispers to get busy cleaning the dishes....and another man hears a shout to "climb a tree."

We can still hear the voice, though faint....and we should listen.


"Seize the day, trusting as little as possible in the future", and the ode says that the future is unknowable, and that instead one should scale back one's hopes to a brief future, and drink one's wine. Compare with the Biblical "eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die", a conflation, with emphasis on making the most of current opportunities because life is short and time is fleeting – an existential caution.....(Horace)



Please feel free to e-mail a comment to chasingthecenterline@gmail.com

Things done right.......

Often, when he ponders issues that confront and confound us, he is surprised how folks will assume that our ability to control outcomes and protect values is nearly nonexistent, or at best, should not be relied upon. The discussion on stem cell research for example stiffens because it is feared that we could not control breaching the ethical boundaries such as body part farming. Or when physician assisted suicide is debated, it is as if we could not regulate the laws to avoid the assembly of “death panels.”


Yet he has discovered many examples in this life of common people taking charge and preserving our valuable natural assets from the human patterned behavior to exploit.

We can begin by leaving aside the obvious National Parks that President Teddy was so intent and successful in setting aside in the wake of sustained business pressure, as well as the endless wetlands and conservation refuges that have avoided destruction, and describe a new treasure he discovered this last summer while traveling up in the Upper Peninsula.

There, up in the land that time forgot due to the plethora of water, rock, woods, and a slim window of moderate weather, sits a group of natural lakes, once pristine, still pristine. A grouping of deep lakes which require canoe in, portage between, and camp primitively, at designated sites restraining the urge to over -populate, and providing the experience that only a true wilderness can.

Sure, it is a high-tech and elite form of use. Reserving the limited campsites is done online, and the rules vigorously restrict noise, garbage, and the high impact effects that are commonly associated with American campers. Yet this is the fine dining of the natural world and it needs a place, and it has one here.

Once again the human community proves the ability to regulate in order maintain value, use, preservation, and sustainability. Great things should be hailed and repeated.

Please feel free to e-mail a comment to chasingthecenterline@gmail.com

Good dog down......

Cannot begin to explain the soulful depth of this animal.  He was always there....quietly taking in the same sights, sounds, and smells as us.....roughing the same trail dust and rock, and chasing the endless centerline right along side the foolish......

                                       Arrow .....

                                     He will be missed.

Please feel free to e-mail a comment to chasingthecenterline@gmail.com