The problem

Fox news is running a story about a plan to grant amnesty to illegal immigrants. Well hell why don't we just eliminate that irritating border thing, and just call ourselves the united states of america and mexico. The reason for having a border is simple, keep non americans out. According to cityrating.com, pheonix, being an amnesty city, is above the national crime rate in all areas. Car theft rate is three times the national average. In Arizona alone, the Buenos Aires National Wildlife Refuge has been closed to americans, warning them of violent drug smugglers, and people smugglers. Lets think about this shall we. The immigration issue has become such a problem, ranchers in southern Arizona being killed, crime skyrocketing on Tuscon and Pheonix streets that we are going to grant them amnesty. HMMM. They kill our people, and we forgive them. Rather nice of us isn't it? How about instead of forgiving them we send in Special Forces, along with A-10's, and apache gunships, clean up the Buenos Aires NWR, turn the ICE loose with a few battalions of soldiers, and stop all this illegal immigrating once and for all. We Americans must make our wishes known to our elected officials in overwhelming numbers, so there is no mistake. When our representatives in government do not do as we wish, vote them out. Most of all, get our heads out of the sand, and look around. America is under invasion.

to Grandpa on fathers day.

These are my memories of the man I new as grandpa.
Grandpa was an old school man of the world. A hard line southern democrat, he was a deacon at a small baptist church, and though strict, he was always good to me, and life was simple with him.  From my earliest memories I remember grandpa with his pipe, and the sir walter raliegh tobacco he always smoked. Years of smoking this same old pipe had made his left index finger crooked, and that crooked finger had the magical ability to freeze me in my tracks. For a kid, grandpa's garden was a wonderous place. I was always digging fox holes, or forts, and always seemed to finish them, and play in them for a while before grandpa, and that crooked finger would make me fill it in. I remember walking through the garden, and sometimes in the summer picking peaches, or cherries from the tree, and only today realize just how good they were. My early life was a collage of sliding down the cellar door after a rain, and saturday afternoon wrestling on TV with koolaid to drink, and sometimes having to adjust the antenna. Grandpa grew honeysuckles in the front yard along the fence, and the sweet nectar they yielded was always a welcome treat.
Thank you for all my memories, and for giving me the moral standards that serve me well, even today. Happy Fathers day grandpa.

gas prices and other irritating stuff

I have heard all the rumors, gas prices five dollars a gallon and higher, rationing, yadda yadda yadda. I bought gas the other day in a rural farm metropolis for 2.52, and it made me think. The normal summer price hike hasn't happened, and oil is spewing into the gulf at an alarming rate, both of which should send gas prices soaring, but hasn't, why?
Any time a corporate giant misses a perfect opportunity to make a larger profit, I get skeptical. Just the mear mention of a hurricane hitting an oil processing plant was enough to send prices three to four dollars higher, if only temporarily. That temporary hike was enough to net millions in profits. So, why now, with the perfect excuse polluting the gulf, have not the oil companies raised prices to the panic level? Are they sending donations to BP, and in sympathy chosen to mimic them? Is there a BP benevelant society that oil companies are joining now? Sorry, my smart ass is showing. But then by all accounts, I am a fifth generation smart ass. The generations before me all had terminal smart ass. Both my daughters have it, my grandchildren have it.
Its genetic.
While we are discussing irritating things, here is another one, condo's. The thing that irritates me is they are apartments, and someone convinced others to buy them. "here, here is this apartment, it's 1200 square feet, built shoddily,  but we want to sell it to you, wanna buy it?". By the way there's this bridge in NewYork that is up for sale.
Another irritating thing is iphone aps. Who cares if your iphone can access your DVR, and make it record, it would have been much easier to just push the record button on the dvr anyway. Not to mention cheaper. Now there are aps that will let you corner the market on precious metals, check out day care establishments, schedule a dentist appointment, or even buy a car. I have noticed an interesting phenomenon amoung the american public these days, thumbs are getting more well developed, and backsides are getting wider. All those things you used to have actually go, and do, you can now do by iphone. See the movie "surrogate", and take a lesson.

The Adults Prevail

You would have thought we were trying to get them to eat freshly dealt reindeer snot.
The baked squash my wife made, with carrots, and bok choi, was seasoned just right, baked in a foil pouch, and yummy. We had determined, my wife and I, that the two grandchildren visiting our home would eat some infinitismal amount of baked squash. We lit candles, made the secret sign, and with our hearts, and minds hardwired together, we set on our task.
The meal the GK got was, I thought, wonderous in its complex simplicity. Using the desktop grilling machine to its fullest potential, she created mini corndogs out of a pack of weinies, and store brand cornbread kits. Her creativity in top form, and kitchen skills never finer,  she weaved her web of culinary art for these two, whom our hearts love, and adore, and amid flying, and twirling utensils, set the meal before them. Myself, playing devils advocate, informed them they would have to eat all the vegetables, and  hinted at a treat if they did so easily.
It was here the trouble began. The younger realized carrots are the least offensive of the two, and ate them quickly. Amid hurled threats of violence against his person, ate the offending vegetable, and so earned his reward. The older of the two, somewhat set in her ways, tried valiantly to refuse this assault on her humanity, and with all the weapons at her disposal, fought bravely to win the day. In the end, the battle knowleldge, and experience of the grandmother won. The last ditch effort to spit out this offending morsel, was met by me, and with all my determination, down the morsel went.
Later that night, when we were alone, the GK tucked in, and sleeping, this woman I love and I shared a secret smile, and reveled in our accomplishments, for despite the trials of veggie eating, we had won.

The circle

It has often been said that life is a circle. Seasons come, and go,and come again. Todays predator is tomorrows fertilizer. The weak feed the strong, the strong become food for the weak. The great circle. It is true of all things in nature, the animals carry the days, and nights within them, the birds carry the cycle of migration, from where they depart, only to return, again and again. The great circle. We as humans walk on four legs in the morning of life, two in the afternoon, and three in the evening. From seed we are born, to seed we return. ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The great circle. In this world, what is not being born, is dying. It is perhaps comforting knowing ones place in the world, we are born with a purpose, to create life. Not just to procreate, but to leave with others our knowledge, our experience, strength, and hope.
Today I looked into the eyes of a child. She was the flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood, a child of my child. I saw in her eyes, complete trust, and perfect love. For a moment I saw forever, the line of my family from the beginning,  far into the future. In her small hand, was hope, the hope that one day far in the future, nothing I have done will have been in vain. That of my family, she will remember. That of my life, she will smile. That I have lived, one small child will know.  The great circle.
 

The Road- review

I just watched "the road" with Vigo Mortensen, and Charlize Theron. This movie is not acceptable for most people. It is a realistic view at a post appocolyptic society that, unlike most feel good movies, does not end happily. I must say that it is masterfully done, and as for me, I quite enjoyed it, but then I am not normal. In this movie, there is no hero, no one rides to the rescue. There are however, plenty of villians. Robert Duvall gives his typical great performance, although in a bit part, and Charlize Theron is totally beleivable in her role, albeit a little vague.
It takes a strong constitution to watch, and enjoy "the road", and the typical human will not. It brings to stark reality just what will happen if we as humans, and americans fail to save this society, indeed, "the road" is a wake up call.

The legend of the yellow rose

The yellow rose of Texas was born into providence, and priveledge, near the end of the eighteenth century, to Mexican nobel mother, and a politico father. She was given a formal education in Madrid, and Paris, and was known to be quite a lovely woman, with a gift for conversation. At the age of twenty two, her mother died after a lengthy illness, and she took her place in the Mexican heirarchy.
The events in Texas interested her greatly, and she saw an opportunity for a powerful ally, should the Texians be freely given independance. The greed of the government surprised, and distressed her, and when violence broke out in Gonzales, she became an ally of the Texians, secretly providing them with guns, ammunition, and food. When news of the fall of the Alamo reached her, and the massacre at Goliad, she realized drastic action must be taken to gain independance.
Assuming the identity of a madam, she turned a modest hacienda into a house of prostitution, and used her gift of conversation to gather intelligence on the mexican army, and secretly passed this information to General Sam Houston, hiding her communcations in bottles of wine.
According to a secret plan between she and General Sam, a good supply of wine was furnished to Santa Anna's army on the twentieth of April near San Jacinto, and The Texas army attacked the next morning, Texas independance was won.
On his trip back to Mexico, Santa Anna realized he had been manipulated, and by whom. He sent a small contingent of soldiers to the converted hacienda, and The Yellow Rose was secretly executed.
Some years after her death, a city in Texas was named for her. What is not well known is that her name literally means yellow rose. The name of The Yellow Rose of Texas is Rosa Amarillo. Rosa meaning rose, Amarillo meaning yellow. 
To this day, in Texas, we honor her memory, for her sacrifice, and love of freedom. 

livin' in the moment

I have read much lately about remembering how it used to be. I have seen old television shows revisited, how cheap things were, and remember how easy things used to be. When I turn on my memory, I can remember with great clarity how it was. While alot of life was easier, some of it wasn't.
Life today isn't so bad. I have seen my children grow to be adults, and have families of their own. I must admit that sitting in front of a computer screen with a coke, and a smoke, beats the hell out of hours in the library trying to research a report for history class. Things were cheaper, yes, but I also worked for 1.25 an hour. As I remember it took years for us to learn of the watergate scandal. today we broadcast the scandals as they happen on a satellite channel called C-span. I remember it was alot harder to seperate the crooks from the basically honest. Today it is alot easier, they are all crooks.  
I find it comforting living in the moment. I once heard it said that if you have one foot in yesterday, and one foot in tomorrow, you are pissing all over today. Yes I know the world is going to hell around me, but I also know that come what may, myself, and my own will survive. Living in today with the full knowledge of surviving tomorrow is one part preperation, two parts attitude. Focus, and vision are parts of the equation. If I focus on the bad, the bad increases. If I try to see the positive, the positive increases.
The place I am in today is a result of the screwups I got through yesterday, hoping to not make the same mistakes tomorrow. My only true course of action, live in the moment.





   

Prodigal post

It has been quite a while since I last posted. Much has happened, I have gotten lax in my preps, and in my homelife. This ends today. I have much to say, and it is difficult to use analagies, as there are none. I intend to simply write what I feel, and think.
Amnesty cities-
There are a number of cities in these United States that have made it a matter of public policy to ignore, and thereby condone, illegal immigration. Pheonix in paticular. City officials have directed peace officers to "don't ask-don't tell" in all dealings with persons illegally in this country. This is NOT  a race issue, as most of the pro-illegal try to pretend. The biggest arguement we hear is that it could lead to...could promote feelings of.... raises certain issues of... etc.etc.etc. CRAP! In its purest form, this is an issue of law. An example of this is, illegal wiretapping. Not only is it invasive, dangerous, and expensive, it is simply illegal. illegal immigration is also invasive, our social services, have become immigration services, and previously strict laws, and policies have been extremely relaxed to accomodate illegals.
 In the early 1900's immigrants came to our shores by the millions. They came by way of Ellis Island Immigration Center, and while it is true they brought with them their own cultures, and language, they came legally. America has been called the great melting pot, with many diverse cultures, and people lending their own identity to our common heritage as Americans.  It is easy to see we are not isolationists. The issue of illegal immigration is the first word in the term, illegal. Immigration is NOT the issue.
How can any elected official, in any city in America, who has taken an oath of office to uphold the law, direct police officers not to contact, or even make issue of, a persons citizenship status, and still expect to retain their office? When a person commits a crime (illegally immigrates), and another person condones that action, or turns a blind eye to it, that person is guilty of conspiracy to commit.

Fortune and Favor

I see you are a wild thing,
free to run, roam, and fly,
A traveling ghost with a quiet way,
Never asking why.   
... S.E.Cook

Perhaps one of the most wonderful things has happened since the end of our civilization. Since the weather turned a little warmer a few days ago, we chose to remain a while in this wild and desolate land known as the Wind River Range. We always send out riders to scout our backtrail, watch for signs of game, or pursuit. Today, Reese, and John returned with four people I knew well. My father, mother, aunt & uncle. My eyes not beleiving what my heart already knew, I could only stare for time in disbeleif. Dismounting and handing off the reins, I saw mom, the jaunty stroll I knew so well, the smile, and little wave so natural to me as the wind. My father, a little sore from riding, but still the same strength, and economy of motion so easily recognizable. It was them. All mom said was "glad to see ya". There were no words between Dad and I, the twinkle in his eye, the pleased smile, and warm embrace saying all that was needed.  Now I must explain.
When the end came,  Mom and Dad had been in Las Vegas, on a vacation. At the end of things some terror group had used the event to create havoc.  A Pocket nuke had exploded in Vegas and in 14 other cities across the U.S. We assumed they had died in the attack. Hearing of the bad times, mom, dad, and mom's sister Kay, and husband Daniel, decided to visit Laughlin, and were between cities when the attack came. Knowing all that was to come, and with a full tank of gas in his pickup like dad always did at bad times, they headed for the wild country, found backroads around the main cities and headed for home. Hondo valley was on thier way home.  Realizing that most ranch houses would have all the latest news, and knowing it was one of our run points, they had stopped and talked to a rancher. As fate would have it, the same one we traded gun for horses with. Never having an AR-15 before, the gun had jammed, and dad being the builder of the gun, fixed it for him, our names came up in the conversation, and the rancher being extremely grateful, traded dad's pickup, and the 20 gallons of now very expensive gas, for horses, saddles, and supplies. Though you may never see it, dad always has a gun close. My Uncle Dan is no exception. This time dad had his Beretta with him, and Dan his WW11 vintage P-38. From here it was no big trick to guess which way we had gone. North, just like we told the rancher we were doing, and it was only logical to follow the national trails. Seeing the same things we had, they came upon the traffic jam we had passed by, except dad and Dan seeing the opportunity. Dad came away with a 223 bolt action carbine, and a couple of hundred rounds, while Dan found a Taurus "JUDGE" and several boxes of ammo, and a 30-06 Remington 700.
I learned my woodcraft from my father, and knowing my natural caution, it was easy for him to follow me. Dad is cautious too, and at Riverton, he saw what we had seen, and avoided it. Now, they were here. Thanks to the powers that be.
Earlier tonight around the campfire, with our entire family there, except for a few, we drank coffee, ate, and talked long into the night, there was no need to post guards, this party would last till morning.  It was around three A.M. when all the stories had been told, all the memories relived, My sister Ann even telling on herself a few times, and eventually the fire burned low, everyone else having turned in except dad and I. "you did good getting everyone here" dad said. "I had a good teacher" I told him. There again the secret smile that means understanding, that can only come between father and son. "good night dad".
Fortune favors the bold,
nature loves the wild at heart,
and love guides the quiet spirit.

giggles and gumdrops

There is much to tell.
We left the Medicine Bow, after having to do defend our supplies, and followed the Platte River north. A couple of days hard ride, we came across what had once been a big resevoir. the dam had been destroyed in some manner, and the rushing water had found a new path, making a  lake in a flat area to the west. Although it was no good for drinking, still being too muddy and full of debris, we were able to wash a few clothes, and have a good place to camp.
later: a days ride to the north, we found the reason for the first destroyed dam. a dam upriver had been blown up. It was obvious. It explains alot. Why the river downstream had been muddy, and so full of debris. The water was running faster here so we were able to gather badly needed drinking water, and having all clean clothes, and watered horses rested, and fed, we turned northwest.
Three days brought us to the west of what I think is the city of Riverton. There seemed to be some trade there, but upon closer examination, we saw several travelers attacked, and robbed after leaving the town proper, and their goods promptly returned to the market along with the survivors of the attack, in chains. Slavers. So it has started. The scum of humankind making their play. We quietly left the area, and headed to the west and one of the most beautiful places on the planet. The Wind River Canyon. We did not enter the canyon itself, appearing to me to be a good place for a trap, but followed a little way off. Earlier today,  myself, Scott, and John, went to the river for water. John decided to try a little fishing while Scott and I filled containers. A short time had passed when we saw John smiling, and pulling in another fish. In only two hours, John had caught enough fish for the entire party to have all we wanted. I never asked what he used, or how, being much too grateful that he had. Tonight around the fire, with the Wind River Range above us, the smell of frying fish made us all hungry beyond reason, and we ate with all the gusto of barbarian kings. The water from the river was cold and clean. There is a chill in the air, and above us all the stars in the sky twinkle and shine.  It seems to me the death, and destruction in the world has not touched this place. There is no sadness here, just a wild and desolate land that seems to have changed little in hundreds of years. I will never forget the look of satisfaction on John's face as each member thanked him while we gorged ourselves on River Trout. He just nodded, and took another bite of fish. He is happier than I have seen him in many years. Abby is quite obviously very proud of him, and tonight everyone is at peace.

The Hunger

I have heard it said, when the belly speaks, the conscience becomes blind, deaf, and dumb. Two nights ago, Reese, on guard duty, was sure he heard prowlers around our camp. At a prearranged sign, he tossed a rock at my tent, and I was up and out in a moment. We low crawled around for a while, and saw nothing. Later that day, we had the nagging feeling we were being watched. Just now another  ground tremor, they come and go. Putting John in the lead, Reese and I got off our horses on the down side of a good hill, telling the others to wait for us about a mile on. We saw them, three men, looking rather ragged, and carrying a shotgun, and each a semi auto, running after us.  Staying behind cover, we waited. It was very obvious to us they were trailing us, and waiting for a good opportunity to attack, steal our horses, food, gear, and leaving us for dead. even if all they had in mind was stealing a little food, that is what keeps us alive, and stealing food is a death sentance in this environment. Hunger will drive a man to do many things he would not do otherwise. In the former world, we might have stopped, helped them, or invited them to join us for a meal. In this world it is a luxury we cannot afford. Having no choice, we ambushed them, took what few guns and ammo they had. One guy had six rounds in his gun, and a few extras.  Another was less fortunate. there was only seven rounds for the shotgun, but we took it nonetheless. I am not sorry for what we did, we are saving our own lives. We did not make this world, we are but travelers through it.   Though violence is not the answer to everything, Sometimes, it is the only option. The seperation between man and beast, is knowing the difference. 

authors note-unrelated

We must try to return control of this country to its people. Governments should derive thier power from the consent of the governed. Yet, each generation of elected official gets farther and farther from the oath they take. As each incumbent is re relected they forget more and more of that oath. Voting them all out is the only true solution.
The "new world order" is no threat to us. The NWO is a bogeyman, a straw adversary, a lie perpetrated by those who would benefit from its existance. Just as with any program of disinformation, it a greater lie than the truth.
It is possible that a single act of trying to "kick them all out", will not work. What will work is a slow and steady evolution of thoughts and ideals, designed to return control of this country to its people. It may take 10 years, or a hundred.
Let it begin here, with us. If we continue to spread our message of political reform, and peaceful evolution, one day we will succeed.
He who gives up, engineers his own defeat. He who never gives up, cannot be defeated.

wyoming

We have finally reached Wyoming. The first thing we saw this morning was a trail sign that read "Medicine Bow National Forest. Colorado was long and difficult,  and being past it is an accomplishment, so we celebrated. though it was only mid morning, we opened the medicinal whiskey, and had a snort to celebrate being out of Colorado. My sisters eldest son, Riley, now considered an adult, stepped up to drink his snort, and with bravery and daring, drank it all in one gulp. I have never seen a young man turn so many shades of red and green, while still trying to appear cool, but he did. After several minutes of color changing, and coughing, a few half hearted attempts to remain cool, he manged to choke out a sort of snuffled "good", and much to his dismay, uproarious laughter from the entire family. Then it was Shawna's turn. She, of course, had just witnessed Riley's experience, and would've been happy to pass were it not for her husband Scott encouraging her. "come on" he said, "it affects different people differently", "you have a strong constitution, it shouldn't affect you like that". She looked to me, her loving father for advice. "daddy?" she queried, "is it gonna burn me?" "oh yeah" I told her "its gonna hurt". "no" Scott said "it won't do you like that, everybody else did, are you wimping out?" Gathering her courage, she took a big swallow and reacted worse than Riley  had. Much to the cackle of laughter from Scott. After chasing him around the clearing for a few minutes, she finally tackled him and proceeded to releive him of his shoes, and pants. He was laughing to hard to protest and she ran away with the offenders pants, and filled with them with grass, twigs, dirt, anything she could find, and tossed them back to him with a cavalier smile, and a jaunty accent,saying "your pants sire". Shawna can be very determined at times. It was a good day.

The lights

It is nighttime, and we have chosen to spend a few days where we are. We are in a small clearing in the middle of a large open space between the mountains. Much like the horses I am skittish. I worry about us, our food supply, our safety, our very future. A little while ago, the family gravitated to the fire, just to watch the show the sky was putting on for us. I watched them all.The little ones and even their parents had a sense of wander, of awe, and a sense of belonging that created an air of peace that was undeniable. It made me think far into the future, to you, of who you are, and of how this all turned out, and I realized for the first time  my place in the world. It is here, in this clearing, under these lights, and yes feeling these tremors. It is my calling to lead my family into the future, to the distant horizon. I looked to the sky, not to cringe in fear, but to appreciate what was there, a glorious kaeidoscope of color, formed against all the stars in the heavens, held the hand of Rose, my beloved wife, glanced at my family, and for tonight, I am at peace.  Come what may, we will survive.  

A Change in the Air

Something terrible happened today. It has been four days since being snowed in, and we are in far northern Colorado. All day the horses were skittish. Twice we felt ground tremors. Last night we saw a both beautiful, and terrible sight. The Northern Lights. Though they are a true wonder to behold, they are not supposed to be visible in this area. This morning we found dead birds all over. I am unsure what has occured, but the two events together can be only an omen of things to come.
this afternoon we saw an avalanche of snow cascading from a high mountain not from from us.  Of  course it spooked the horses, and they almost bolted.  Tonight, again,  we see the Northern lights, and the horses will not settle down. They know something is wrong.  Just now another ground tremor. Will have to be extra careful in all we do now. I can hear the kids crying, they are scared. I wonder if the panic that started the EOW was in someway a result of the "herd instinct" we humans were feeling, as the result of some great cataclysm yet to come.  Maybe the snow of a few days ago was due to changing weather patterns brought on by this new global event. The kids are still crying, maybe I can help calm them down, although it is a calm I do not feel.

Snowed in

We are in a valley between three high mountains and for the second day now, have been snowed in. As a matter of survival, we all carry jerky, and water with us. My biggest worry is the horses. When John, who was on guard, woke us with the news of the heavy snow, it took us completely by surprise. The snow is chest high, in only six hours. Had to turn the horses loose.
third day: It has quit snowing during the night, and has gotten a little warmer. Still can't see the horses. Worried.
fourth day: The snow is melting, thank God, and the horses are not here. they must have run off in the snow. Maybe by tomorrow we can try to track them. Had to dig out a place outside the tent for the dogs to you know what.
fifth day: The snow is only knee high this morning. By noon we should be able to look for the horses. Putting out water, and quaker oats hoping they will smell it and come back. Abby says horses are more intelligent than dolphins or whales,  and almost psychic about direction. Still we will look.
night time-fifth day: Found most of the horses. Two perished in the cold, one, an older cutting horse, and a mare who they trained as a barrel racer. We have been lucky, and it is good to be out of the tent.  We will adjust.  The older boys are sleeping outside their tents tonight, and Rose and I are joining them. Tent packed away and sleeping under the stars. Under a clear sky, it is very cold, but all the stars in Heaven watch over us this night.

Our Little Hero

When we left our home in the Lincoln National Forest, we took two little ones with I have failed to mention.  Our dogs. One a miniature gray Poodle, and a yorkie. Belle. To be more correct, Miss Texas Belle, who occupies a position of honor, and safety, riding on the lap of Rose, and mostly sleeping. At times she asserts her independance by sleeping in someone elses tent and curling up at the bottom of one of their sleeping bags, when it gets really cold, she wiggles her way inside the bag, and comfort.
Tonite she was in our tent, and sleeping peacefully, when I heard her growling, and barking at the door of the tent, our poodle, noogie, joined the fray, though still a little unsure. I was up in a moment, and had my rifle. The minute I got the door open, Belle got out, and took off. I didn't know a little dog could run that fast. A large brown bear was sniffing around, trying to decide between the food, or our horses for dinner. It was a bad mistake on his part. He was between me and the horses, so I hestitated to shoot. Belle had no such hesitation. She was aided in her efforts by Noogie, from a rear position. I watched as this small dog, no bigger than a rabbit, ran in barking, snarling, growling, and snapping. The first pass she got a piece of the bears leg, and from there took hunks from various places on the bears body. It quickly became clear to me that the bear was outclassed. As soon as he turned to face this little demon dog, she was already someplace else. Already with another piece of bear in her chops. Noogie had worked up his courage, and worked with Belle, feasting on bear hide. Those two little dogs were getting the best of Mr. Bear, and when he realized that fact, decided to vacate the premises,  chased by a little gray poodle, and the little yorkie deciding she wasn't ready for the bear to go just yet, hanging on by what few teeth she had left.
I hollered for her a few times, and she let go, barked, and snarled her disapproval at the bears sudden departure, and strutted back to her place at the bottom of my bag.
I will not discuss the praise those two little dogs got, or the treats, or petting they got, except to say that everyone in our party understands that "our littlest hero" can sleep anywhere she wants.

The high mountains

It has been one week since sighting the traffic jam. The weather, though cold, has been mild. I took the lead this morning, giving Reese a break, Ann being all the more greatful, giving the four of them a little down time. I broke a cardinal rule this morning, and let my young grandson ride with me on point.  It was no oversight. He is seven years of age, and since the EOW, has grown as wild as the wind above the mountains. He is solid muscle, strong for his age, and has hit his growing spurt just recently. Thank God for the seamstress women in our family.
I let him ride in front of me, telling him I "needed an extra set of eyes".  He has learned his woodcraft with amazing quickness.  Someday he will surpass me, his father, and uncle. It is a great comfort to me to know he is learning so well, and to see this child, blood of my blood, a generation removed, knowing our family is alive in him, and in my granddaughter, who at every camp, is right there with the women of our family, learning, growing and doing all she can to lend a hand. Yesterday, her uncle John came back from hunting with a scratch, and I watched her take a survival kit from her pocket, sit him down, and with the skill of a professional nurse, clean the wound, bandage it, and tell him, "uncle John, you gotta be more careful".  It brought a lump to my throat that didn't want to stay down. 
We sit around the fire, in a clearing, surrounded by the High Rockies. A light snow is falling. My wife rose, a love of many years, is with me, reading over my shoulder, and has a secret look of satisfaction on her face. This journal I keep, was her idea. Someday,  far in the future, our decendants will sit, much like we are tonight, and know how things came to be.  Lifes greatest blessings, sometimes disguised in tragedy, lead us to a brighter future.

The Trail

I can smell it in the air, I can feel the cold coming. In the years following the downfall of society we have been far, my family and I.  What started from a small farming community on the plains of Texas, has led us here. I sit astride a tall American Quarter Horse, followed by my wife, Rose, my 2 daughters, Abby and Shawna, thier husbands, John and Scott. Two grandchildren are riding with thier parents.  By luck and providence my sister Ann and husband Reese and two sons, joined us in the canyon that was once our home.
 We agreed to head north into the mountains to escape the violence that threatened our lives. We follow the old National Trail System riding north, east of what was once Durango Colorado. There was a light snow last night, and though the temperature is only about 41 degrees, I can feel the cold coming. It is strange how things have changed,  we are for all intents and purposes living 400 years in the past, riding through the remnants of a modern civilization. Late yesterday as we went through a high pass, we saw below what remained of a traffic jam that had turned ugly. It was obvious the people had turned on each other and no one had survived. It served to remind me how fortunate we have been, and how planning ahead has saved our lives. Though it has been difficult, we have grown much closer as a family. The cost of 12 riding horses and 4 pack horses was my favorite AR-15 and 160 rounds of ammunition. I now carry my grandfathers Marlin lever action rifle, and it has served me as well, if not better.
Reese is leading us along the river, and I am riding drag. Daily I thank God for blessing us with the skills neccessary to survive. Abby has learned alot about horses, Rose is our resident medic, Reese an excellant guide and crack shot, and Shawna has made a good school teacher. Just as our ancestors did many years ago, we survive by neccessity, and though the weather is turning cold, we ride north, into the mountains. Strength of family, and faith in God will see us through, and come what may, we will survive