Girls Best Friend,Hamilton Creek, 11 miles 1hr 20 min

Today I am taking an adventure at a place that has been considered “home” since I started to ride mountain bikes. I started riding the trails at Hamilton Creek when I was in junior high school. My basket ball coach thought I need to lose weight so “the bull ,as I was called back then, would be a little quicker on her toes…. So he talked me into riding for exercise thus-this is when the monster was created. Just for information sake, I did not end up losing any weight..I just ate more. Anyway, now 14 years later I have returned to live very close to the trail where it all began…….

As I ride my mountain bike, I am by myself; no other person around. However I am not alone. I actually feel like I have all that I will ever need in life. I have my bike, a smile, and cleo running in front of me. She is been there with me, riding, cross county skiing, rock climbing, running, swimming, kayaking, riding in the car, playing ball in the yard, and giving me kisses when I did not want them. I think back when snickers, her mother would have been with us. Going for a ride, always slower and behind…but there with us. Today I left snickers to sit in the Air Conditioning, because a 14-year-old dog would not make the 11-mile mountain bike ride, in the summer, in the south. I begin to think about my girls and how they have always been with me.

Snickers was originally my little brother’s dog. We got her when I was 15. A little short for an “American” Jack Russel, I assure you she is the master mouse catcher that has ever claimed the name of the breed. I went from being snicker’s sister to her momma when I was 21. She came to live with me in my apartment in Bowling Green Kentucky. It seemed that she tried to beat up my brother’s 1 year old pit bull…and the pit bull won. So this is how the many years of friendship and vet bills came to pass. I think we are a lot alike, me and snickers. She is a funny little dog that likes to play and make you happy. She is an emotional creature, with a heart of gold, very intune with people’s feelings. We both make funny little faces and interesting sound effects… and we both love chocolate. Like me, she takes up too much space in the bed, due to her pattern of sleeping horizontal with her little paws stretched out. Sometime we both get too excited and yet can both relax to the point where we can sleep pretty much anywhere. I have a backpack that is actually a front pack that I can carry her in. This has come in handy during our roller blading and cross-country ski trips. After 3 miles or so she gets a little tired and asks to be picked up for maybe a 15 minute break . I slam her in and off we go until she gets squirmy…put her down again and she is good to go for a few more miles until the next rest break. As you can imagine we get lots of triple takes.

Cleo, a eight year old Jack Russel, has been on many adventures. The dog with 9 lives has jumped out the car window while driving ( because she had to go pee) she has been hit my a car, she electrocuted herself by chewing on a lamp cord, her foot has been slammed in the trunk door and, she has fallen down a 15 foot ravine while we were hiking and well… you can say she has had many other incidents that have resulted in many more vet bills. She is “ball crazy”, loves to swim, likes to sleep under the blankets, needs attention, is jealous of her mother, like to have her belly scratched, loves to drink the bath tub water, thinks she is a big dog, and is an absolute beauty with those droppy brown puppy-dog eyes.
Both can sense when I am sad.. they come and comfort me and kiss me on the hand. Snickers will scratch at my leg so I would but her in my lap. They have been there when I was all alone. When I was 1200 miles from my family and when my ex-husband left- left to go live somewhere else, I was alone in our big house. I would be scared and put the girls in the bed with me. With them I did not feel alone. I had family with me. It broke my heart to but them on the airplane last October to go live with me family in Tennessee. I was afraid that my ex-husband would insist on taking one of them, a right he had, but I knew I could never separate a mother and daughter. So now I have my girls back, we are on a new adventure. Me and the girls will have a good time and I will have them with me everywhere possible.

A beautiful Woman, Robin Munis

http://www.wyomingnews.com/articles/2007/07/15/featured_story/01top_07-15-07.txt

Writers block… never had a problem is my life knowing what to say. If anything, I have too much to say never taking he time to listen. For weeks I had something I wanted to say, to share, to write, but could not make myself sit down and actually do it. Something in my life was causing me to keep so absolutely busy or distracted that I was not taking the time to do the one thing in my life that has reunited me with a long lost gift of creativity. But today I have the familiar overwhelming need to write you- to share what I have to say. Not about my bicycle- but share about a woman- a woman that is now gone.

I went numb. I felt as I was floating on the ceiling and looking down at my self sitting on a couch- at a rafting outpost- located in the Cherokee National Forest. My mind was stripped from my body searching for a sense of reality. Am I imagining this? Am I high? Am I dreaming? Did I read this right? I read again, a email that was sent from a friend in Wyoming. Yes, I read this right. Instantly every orifice on my body that could release moisture was stimulated. Tears from my eyes-sweat from my brow-my mouth watered- and my nose began to run. I read the first line of the email that read… Katelyn I hate to give you this news.. but Robin Munis was shot be her husband, she is gone.

She had a smile that lit up the room. Gorgeous brown yes, dark brown flowing hair that was always full of body, maybe from a curling iron or rollers..but only a southern girl would go through this much trouble- no mistake. I was instantly drawn to this southern beauty. She had a familiar Tennessee ascent that reminded me of home. A voice of an angle, a grin of a gal that liked to have fun, and a heart of gold that you could see in her eyes. She took the time to ask how you were doing, to truly want to know how things were. We became close very fast. We had a lot in common. One being we were both Tennessee girls. We both had a spirit of adventure. We both loved our husbands but could not figure out why things were not better. Her husband, was a lot like my husband. They treated us the same, said the same things, did the same things, liked the same things…. good and well not so good. We were there to support each other, to provide encouragement that things would get better, that if we tried harder, did things different, lost the weight that they complained about, we would make them happy…things would be different. Many nights at the bar, time shared at work, days hanging out; we were there for each other.

The last time I say her, was a time in my life where I was selfish. Trying to get the guts to get out of bed, go to work, make it through the day. As we spoke in the parking lot, I asked her how she and her husband was doing. She paused and said…OK were doing OK. She looked at me, cracked a smile, shook her head as she gazed at me, and in her own way let me know she was not telling the truth. She asked if I wanted to go to lunch. I told her ya sure..give me a call. As I said this I knew that this was not going to happen. I was moving home next week, because I finally left my husband. I did not have the “time” to take one hour of my day to see a old friend that was there for me when I needed her.

Guilt, has overcome me. Why did I not go to lunch! Could something I would of said resulted in something different? Is it silly to think this? I question how could a man-lose it? Completely go insane to end the life of his child’s mother. How was this man, that seemed so similar to my ex-husband, have gotten to this breaking point. She said she needed to stay, this was her 3rd marriage, she had 4 kids, she could not give up, and I agreed with her. I gave up. I ended mine. I got out. Out of something un known, but only known was the direction it was headed. A direction that was not good. Hers ended her life. Did she get out too early, too late, not the right way?

So ya…. Today as I read the email from my ex-husband asking if I would ever take him back if he gave 100%. I thought to myself what Robin would of said, what advise would she of given? She would of said, “NO girrrrrl, you deserve better!”. She would of said this with the most intense passion, from knowing what I felt like, from being through what I have been through, from crying the same tears, fearing the same fears, and having her heart break in a million pieces…just like mine
So that sweet southern voice is still heard in my ears, I can see her smile, imagine her dancing, imagine her laughing as she would throw her head back and make those silly little kissy faces. I will miss my friend, but she will always be with me

Ironic Bike Ride, Cold water lake Michigan to Shipshewana Indiana 55 miles

Ironic, Latin for ironia, is the use of a word to express something other than and especially the opposite of the literal meaning. Today is filled with this…..

This is the word that popped in my head as I approach the cross roads of a small town in Michigan. Saddle between my legs, and delighted as I looked down main street to see quaint little shops adorned with American flags. Pizza joints, art studios, and café’s now replace what was once a hundred years ago hardware stores, butchers, and pharmacies. Today, the Walmart down the street has taken any need for these services from the old heart of this once metropolis.

Incongruity between what is expected and what occurs; Ironic. Again this comes to mind as I read the town history marker that reads “This township was first establish centuries ago….only first- after the local Indian tribe was removed”. This is the first line stated before anything was mentioned about the first mayor, the train, and how many people lived here “that were obviously not Indians”.

I pass black covered buggies that are pulled by horses. “American’s”, Amish Americans choosing not to change, evolve, with society, the American society. Not wanting to do so anything to place them above God. Their faith brings the community together, but ironically will divide a family apart if one chooses not to follow “the way”. A decision each is given on their 16th birthday. A decision that will determine if they will ever speak to their family again, drive a car, go to college, eat at Mc Donalds, watch MTV, or see the world. A decision that will be made at a time where most 16 year olds most difficult decision is wither they are going to the movies or the mall.

Women in bonnets, simple hand made clothes adorned with nothing; no patterns, not buttons, no zippers. Men with straw hats, white shirts, black pants, always a beard. Children with no sponge bob tennis shoes, they are not screaming for ice cream, and not running off. I see this as I go to the Amish market and buy Amish baked goods from teenage girls with no makeup-high lights- finger nail polish. Raw- Simple- beautiful in a way. No very beautiful, but Ironic. They try so hard to not be different, to stick out, or bring attention away from God; but they do this very thing as people come from all over to see this unique culture, get a ride on their buggy, take their picture, and buy their baked goods and produce.

They live here in this community to live a independent life from society, a life they choose, a life that is free, but not free… Ironic.

Again, I think to my self…would I have seen this, thought this, if I was not on my bicycle… probable not. Maybe a little simpler is better.
Amore, Katelyn