May 14, 2021

How Does Your Story Begin?

We all know it, this past year was the start of something big. Just like with 9/11, we all remember where we were last March when it all began, and I bet that most of us haven’t moved far from that spot, at least physically. Our stories, however, will travel as storytelling always does, from one generation to another, and from friend to friend. I know where my story begins but, I find myself wondering, what comes next? One thing is for sure, I had plenty of time to think about what matters most to me, as I looked longingly out windows, at screens, and went on for walks with…

April 19, 2021

Adventure Time Again?

It’s been over a year, and what a year it has been. We have struggled to find topics that don’t seem insensitive to what we have all gone through, and to how many have suffered more than we. But we are beginning to see a light at the end of the tunnel. At least we hope that’s what we’re seeing. Gail and I are both fully vaccinated. Numbers are falling in Utah, restrictions are loosening (for better or worse), and warm weather is in sight (notwithstanding the almost 30 inches of snow the Cottonwoods received last week!), which will allow us all to spend even more time outdoors, in what…

February 28, 2021

KPCW and Friends of Ski Mountain Mining History

The Senior Rippers are sponsoring a KPCW Pledge Hour This Tuesday Our fellow ripper, Don Roll, was seeking a sponsor for Friends of Ski Mountain Mining History’s Pledge Hour at our local community radio station and asked the Senior Rippers if they could help sponsor their hour.  Thanks to donations by Bill & Pat Harris, Don & Kathy Roll, Don & Anne Keyser and Gail and me, we will be sponsoring their hour this Tuesday, March 2, at 4 PM MST. KPCW’s Mission is to serve Summit and Wasatch Counties with local news, information, entertainment and emergency alerts through its broadcast signal and digital media platforms, including KPCW.org.  The station…

February 26, 2021

Our Love Affair with Buck Hill Falls

In March of 1992, Gail “dragged” me, kicking and screaming, to look at a community in the Poconos called Buck Hill Falls. When some friends suggested we consider renting there for the summer, my response was, “I’ve been to the Poconos and I’m not going back”. Well, Gail prevailed, and we made the 2 hour drive from Brooklyn on a cold, rainy Sunday in March. We left I-80 near Stroudsburg, and drove through the Poconos I remembered. A little run down and dirty, a lot tacky. I kept complaining that it was a waste of time; that is until we drove under a stone bridge at the entrance of the…