Pike’s Peak 03:

The cog railway from Manitou Springs followed a set of tracks that led stright up the side of Pike’s Peak. I don’t remember much from that morning, but at some point, I found myself seated in the train, which Father explained was unlike a normal train in that it was driven by a cog, which meant absolutely nothing to me.…

The Prune Juice Incident:

For the second time in my short life, Father and I were going on a road trip together. Evidently we had family up in North Dakota whom I had yet to meet. I don’t remember seeing any of the countryside before we had reached the Badlands of South Dakota, and knowing Father, we had probably driven through the night.…

Injury 03:

Father was working on his motorcycle, and I watched with some curiosity. Even though he rode it to work every day, rain or shine, sleet or snow, I can’t recall having ever taken the time to look closely at the machine. As always, he narrated what he was doing, and was careful to describe each part of the engine as he touched it with his tools.…

Learning to Bicycle:

Some unknown time later, my maternal grandparents visited. I similarly recall the ground being damp and the scent of rain hung heavy in the air. Papa and Dah arrived in a tan mobile home camper. One or both of my aunts where there, but I have only a vague memory of them from that time.…

First Christmas:

It may very well have been the first year I lived in Colorado with my family, but it feels to me that it was the second. Perhaps it had already snowed, but I remember there being mud everywhere, more bog than yard. My paternal grandparents were visiting, but they were quiet people and I have few memories of their visit.…