It's not the years but the...

miles.

I've got a lot of mileage on this minute body of mine.

Back in the day prior to my accidents, (http://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2015/07/four-years-ago.html), I reckon I rode a bicycle over a quarter of a million miles. I had a ten year stretch where I pedaled over 100,000 of those Old English measuring units. Now that my love of the two-wheeled vehicle has been beaten out of me; I hike and I do it a lot. As an astute old buddy of mine once said, "Jeff hikes like a monkey on crack." 

The scratches, gashes, soreness and sprains keep coming. But I have an Rx for all those maladies and complaints. I ignore them. This is how I fight the good fight against aging. I keep moving. I'm a believer of Newton's Laws of Motion. 

Every object in a state of uniform motion tends to remain in that state of motion unless an external force is applied to it.

I think that external force is A-G-E. 

Yep, I'm 61 today, and I'm afraid of slowing down. 

Cheers on the ides of November,

Jeff the Birthday Boy.

PS. The photo of the Milky Way was graciously provided by Amber Lyle. It gives me perspective that I'm not that old in the Big Picture. 

PPS. Fido didn't score any Alpo from my ad campaign. Poor porcelain Pug.

http://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2015/11/poor-fido.html

On Friday the 13th..

I brought a rabbit's foot, a four leaf clover and a wish bone on yesterday's  ramble. After all I was going into the Superstition Mountains Wilderness. One can't be too careful in an area where gold mines go missing, let alone a little dude like me. 

The "Sups" are legendary for mother lodes that somehow become forgotten. Talk about senior moments! The Lost Dutchman Mine is the most famous tale of "Holy Crap! Where did I put that mine?" 

Down through the decades scores of adventurers have gone out in search of that hole of wealth. Many died in gold vain. (A little miner's humor there). One was found with two bullet holes in his bleached skull. That's a high price to pay for a potential piece of jewelry. 

With all of this in mind, I tossed in a flashlight, an extra layer of warm clothes, matches and the above mentioned good luck charms into my daypack. Of course, I forgot my maps! 

Somehow, I made it out fine and in one piece. I didn't rediscover any mine. I did find a lot of peace and solitude in those 12.5 miles of trekking. These days, that's a good thing.

In lieu of yesterday's atrocities in Paris, wilderness areas are looking better to me each day. 

Be safe out there,

The world is becoming scarier and I don't mean the wild places.

Jeff

PS: last photo graphically shows why Arizona hiking would not be a good idea for someone who is a hemophiliac. 

My idea of...

Winter.

On top of Mighty Camelback Mountain in Scottsdale, Arizona  (,2704 feet of oxygen deprived granite)  there was a slight wind chill in the 75 degree sunshine. Somehow I survived and endured the harsh elements. After all, I didn't want to embarrass myself before those 100-plus bestest buddies who hiked with me to the summit. Ahhh wilderness! 

Speaking of atrophy: with T-Minus one week until I turn 61, I realized taking a three day break from physical mobility is not a good idea. The way I was breathing on that minuscule chunk of crumbly rock, one would think I was summiting Everest. 

Note to self: Always keep moving until Happy Hour. 

Cheers from 33.5 degrees North.

Enough to make a difference in being SAD. http://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2015/11/i-playing-dirty.html

Jeff