Yes, I broke a lot of braces, and wounded a lot of crutches. I broke braces with savant-like abilities. I suspect it of being my super power. And for every popped rivet, there was a dad with the right tool for the job. Our indian names were Hammering Father, and Broken Son.

Thankfully, it never made my father angry. Broken braces were just something that came with the territory. “Just means you’re using ‘em.”, is the way he looked at it. Besides, it was always a good time to talk and laugh a little, while he pieced me back together again. How many dad’s can say they have built their kid? My dad has built, and rebuilt me from the ground up, more than a few times. I’d go out and break me, he’d come home and build me again. Good times.

The conversations that we had were mostly of a social nature, though instruction wasn’t uncommon either. We told each other every hunting and fishing story we could think of, and then told them again. We also told family stories. What uncles did what, and what aunts went where, or what life was like for mom and dad when they were growing up. Those stories were great, but it was also a good time for the things that fathers teach sons. How to use different tools, or how to check the oil in the car. Things like that. Things I needed to know about. He was giving me history and tales, but also practical and useful knowledge that would help me for the rest of my life.

Those conversations were easy. Other things we talked about, were not so easy. Conversations,that were not so much about something I didn’t know, but rather something I didn’t understand.. Those talks didn’t happen during our time repairing braces. Those talks happened at The Crippled Children’s Clinic.

If you were a parent with a handicapped child, there was no such thing as “..a..”, doctor’s appointment. You would not only need to see the doctor, but a small battalion of medical and support personnel that were scattered about town, to boot. If you scheduled every appointment individually, you would spend most of your waking life in waiting rooms of one form or another.

It was out of this reality that the Crippled Children’s Clinic was born. From the time I had polio at eighteen months, until the time I stopped growing, The Crippled Children’s Clinic was a regular part of me and my father’s life. It was one day out of the week (monday) when all of the doctors, nurses, therapists, and brace men would all gather together at the same time, and in the same location. Patients would arrive very early in the morning, and wait to see everyone they needed to see, in one day. It was a practical solution, to a difficult situation.

Now the Crippled Children’s Clinic was only an idea. It didn’t have its own building or office space. This meant scrounging around the hospital campus for an empty space big enough to accommodate everyone. For years the only space big enough, that wasn’t already being used, was a basement floor of the hospital. It was a storage area for chairs and tables and assorted hospital furniture no longer in use. It did however, have plenty of open space, and four or five empty rooms that could be used for patient examinations. Nurses would set up folding tables as a makeshift office. There they would organize boxes upon boxes of medical records, that had been hauled over from their regular offices. After that, there were exam rooms to set up, and chairs to unfold for the patient area. It was genuinely impressive what all the people working the clinic had to do, before they could take the first patient of the day.

In a way, The Crippled Children’s Clinic was church. Okay, it wasn’t “The” church. It was however, most definitely “a” church. There was a congregation of wounded and broken, bodies and souls. It was with humbled spirits they came to this place to be healed and comforted. They came for help, and guidance, and hope. Each struggled with the flesh, struggled with fear, and struggled with faith. Each prayed against the impossible. This Crippled Children’s Church didn’t have a preacher. It was, however, blessed with an abundance of ministers. Minister’s of all shapes and sizes, colors and creeds. Men and women who ministered endlessly, and selflessly, to every body and soul that found their way to church that day.

Though I am eternally grateful for The Crippled Children’s Clinic and all the people who served there, it was by no means a fun place. If you were a child patient there it was more often than not, quite scary. There was no separation between the waiting area, and the exam rooms. This meant you spent your mornings listening to the screams and cries of the kids that went before you, as they were being treated. Let’s just say waiting sucked.

The hardest thing for me early on, was the sense that I had no say-so in all of this. I had no choices. Exams, needles, surgeries, braces and crutches and the like, were all things that had to be done, whether I liked it or not. I hated being unable to do anything about my own life.

One particular morning I sat quietly and watched as people struggled to get out of the elevator, loaded down with wheelchairs and braces, bags and books, and children in tow. I looked around a very crowded room of misery. Patients bent and twisted into a variety of contraptions designed to straighten them out, or hold them together. Every one of them crying for one reason or another. I saw patients pained, strained, and with confused looks on their faces as they tried to make it through one more day of all of this. I didn’t understand it. Didn’t God know about all of this?

I turned to my dad and asked him why all of those kids had to be crippled. I can’t imagine how hard of a thing that was for him to hear. He was quiet for a moment as he looked around the room at what I had been taking in. Then he looked down at me with understanding and said, “I don’t know son. Let’s you and me see if we can help.”.

It was like my heart had been struck with a tuning fork. Did he really mean me? That “I”, could help? Wasn’t I too small, too young, too crippled, too something or other to help somebody? Well, not according to my dad. There wasn’t a single thing I could do about my own situation, but anytime I wanted too, I could do something to help someone else’s situation. My father couldn’t have said anything better. It was perfect.

And we did help. For years he and I unfolded chairs, set up tables, and passed out sandwiches and carton’s of milk. We dried tears when we could, and calmed the fears of the newcomers whenever it was needed. Anything we could find to do.

Daddy never gave me the, ” No matter how bad things may be for you son, there is always someone who has it worse.” speech. He gave me the, ” No matter how bad you may have it son, you can always help somebody else.” speech. It was a good speech.

I like to think that my dad ordained me that day. My father ordained his son to serve, at the little Crippled Children’s Church up the hard road a way’s.

God bless that man.

A day at The Little White House

Welcome to this series on Presidential Destinations. Last week we delved into the rich history of FDR’s birthplace and life-long home, but there is another residence you must explore to understand FDR – Warm Springs.

Trying to convey the impact of FDR on American and World History is not within the scope of this blog, but it is a huge legacy.  The countless books, TV shows and movies devoted to the subject demonstrate how curious people are about him.  One of the most highly acclaimed endeavors of this sort was the made-for-TV movie, Warm Springs.  I remember watching it with great interest, but unlike many people it was not my first encounter with Warm Springs.

My family lived in Georgia during most of my elementary years and Georgia is a long way from Texas, which we all called home.  Whenever we could, we’d make the long drive to visit our Texan roots, because hopping on a plane for travel was a phenomena of the future.  Sure there were planes, but middle class families like ours never even considered them as a possible means of transportation.  But it was two long days of driving to get to Texas and two long days back to Georgia, so unless my Dad could get off for two weeks and we could afford the trip, we had to make do with vacations close by.

This meant that we swam on Myrtle and Edisto Beaches in South Carolina, shopped in Macon and Atlanta, escaped to Callaway Gardens and visited important historical sites in Georgia.  One of the historical sites we visited while I was in first or second grade was Warm Springs.  History didn’t mean as much to me then as it does now, so what I remember most from that trip was the overpowering peace I felt strolling through the pines with my mom, dad and sister.  It seems I can remember Mother trying to impress on me the importance of the man who came there to recover his health and also some lessons about not being handicapped by whatever befalls you, but all that was a long time ago.

However, once I’d been introduced to Warm Springs, like our Thirty-second president, I found reasons to return.  Perhaps the trip to Warm Springs I remember best came in my late twenties.  We’d returned to Texas when I was eleven, but I was in Atlanta for a convention.  I used the convention as an excuse to visit favorite places in Georgia, so Warm Springs was on my list.  History was very important to me by that time and I remember solemnly considering all the historical matter available in the park.  I saw the car Roosevelt traveled in to hide his polio.  I studied pictures of his servants and read tributes written by them.  I walked through modest buildings which were hard to connect with an illustrious name like Roosevelt, even before I’d seen Springwood.  It was interesting, but I found nothing that re-ignited the warm spot in my heart.

Then I walked away from the historical displays and into the pines again.  I was immediately transported to that peaceful happy time with my family.  I like to think that I shared that feeling of happiness and peace with FDR.  The therapeutic remedies of the natural springs could not cure his polio, though they did offer him some relief, but I think Warm Springs offered more than physical relief.  There were plenty of cottages he could rent, if all he needed was a dip in the springs, but while he was still Governor of New York, before he became president, he built a home at Warm Springs.

They called Springwood the Summer White House, but Warm Springs was the Little White House.  The Summer White House was where FDR entertained the world, but I think the Little White House re-energized his soul.  Many of FDR’s best ideas are purported to have originated in Warm Springs.  He actually died at Warm Springs.  Perhaps his soul didn’t want to leave that quiet place again.

Though Texas will always be home, there’s a warm place in my heart for Georgia.  It is a beautiful state with a lot to see.  Visiting Atlanta requires several days if you want to see it properly, but if you get to Atlanta, save a few of those days to travel southeast of the big city.  Callaway Gardens will take your breath away – especially in the spring, when the azaleas are blooming and you don’t want to miss the Little White House.

Why do you think FDR worked so hard to hide his polio from the American people?  Could a modern day president hide anything that important?  Would the media cooperate with the cover-up?  Do you think FDR was right or should he have opened up and shared his story with the world?

I have this need for “wide open spaces” feeling lately. This just caught my eye.

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It’s a story about God’s creative approach in dealing with me as an individual, on a tricky matter. When all was said and done, it was abundantly clear how well he knew me, and how well He knew the best way to get His point across to me, as one of His children.

I can’t remember exactly how old I was. It was whatever age you are when adults have to get down on one knee, if they want to talk with you face to face. On this particular occasion, the adult on one knee, was a visiting preacher to our church.

The service was over and most of the congregation were making their way down front, to thank the man for coming. As the preacher shook the many hands, he spotted me standing on crutches and braces close to my father’s protection from the crowd. It was with the sincerest of intentions the preacher approached me. He walked up, knelt down on that one knee, took me by the shoulders, and loud enough for everyone to hear, began to speak.

He said that I wouldn’t always be like this. That someday I would be in heaven, and there receive a brand new body. A body with legs that worked. He said I would one day walk in heaven.

Now everyone was quite blessed by it all, as well they should have been. It struck me different though. Of course I loved the idea of everything that he said, but it was hard for me not to feel the sadness of having to wait seventy or eighty years, before I got to be like everybody else. I felt the weight of never being normal in this lifetime. Never equal. Never with the same chances as everyone else. It was troublesome to me.

That night I had a dream. A very vivid dream.

I dreamed that I was on the ground, in front of the gates of heaven. No crutches, no braces. As I was trying to orient myself, a voice like you hear in Charlton Heston movies, called my name. It said to rise and walk. I looked down, and right before my eyes I watched muscles form and grow on my legs.

I could walk.

Immediately I thanked God with all my heart;….and then asked to be excused. I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful. I simply didn’t want to wait another minute to show my family and friends that I could walk. I asked God that if it were alright with Him, then might I go and find them. He laughed and said it was fine, and off I went. Running through the streets of heaven on my search, hollering like a crazy person with joy.

It wasn’t long before I spotted a large group of my family and friends gathered on a street corner. I bounced and ran up to them full of happiness and freedom, crying out, “Hey everyone. It’s me, Jay. Can you believe it? The day is finally here. I can walk. Not only can I walk, but I can run, I can dance, I can jump up and down if I want too. Can you believe it?? Finally, after all of this time, after all these years, I am just like you..”.

Everyone patted me on the back with love and congratulations, and each saying how great it was to hear such news.

Then after a moment, they took a step back and collectively gave me a look and a little smile that said without words, how happy they were for me. What a beautiful moment.

That’s when they unfolded their giant wings…………..

…………and flew away.

I knew the presence of God;………He was trying not to laugh.

Rotary International President Kalyan Banerjee speaking to Columbus area Rotarians

What a day at Rotary today. As my old broadcast journalism friend Phil Scoggins - I brought him to Columbus from Albany when I hired him as Sports Director for WRBL back in the early 1970s – said the top story for our area today was happening as he spoke.  He gave a short newscast at the beginning of the Rotary Club of Columbus meeting.  That was something I did for many years until I passed the baton to Phil.

The President of Rotary International, Kalyan Banerjee of  Calcutta, India, chose the Columbus club for his visit to the state of Georgia.  He did that because the Rotary Club of Columbus is the largest 100% Paul Harris Fellow Club in the world.  That means that every one of the clubs more than 300 members is a Paul  Harris Fellow.  Rotarians who give $1000 to the Rotary Foundation become Paul  Harris Fellows. 

Columbus Mayor Teresa Tomlinson, who is now a Paul Harris Fellow beacuse she was given the award by the Rotary Club of Columbus, honors RI President Banerjee by declaring Kaylan Banerjee Day in Columbus, GA. She's not a Rotarian, but President Banerjee says she should become one.

RI President Banerjee and Mayor Tomlinson displaying proclamation honoring President Banerjee. (Photo by Jim Cawthorne, Camera1.)

The Rotary Foundation is a major contributor to eradicating polio  in the world. President Banerjee told of how India,  his country, went from being an endemic polio country to a country virtually free of the disease. It went from 40 cases in 2010 to 1 case last year.

Polio  is not the only beneficiary of  the Rotary Foundation. President Banerjee told the story of a 12-year-old girl in Nigeria who couldn’t see. Her sight was restored by Indian Doctors who operated an Eye Camp sponsored by the Rotary Foundation. Banerjee said nothing we do is more important than things like that.

He also told of how such efforts can bring countries together. He reported on a meeting in India of the last 4 countries that still have polio problems, with one of the those countries being Pakistan. Pakistan, an enemy of India for a long time, was represented at  that meeting as the countries came together to fight polio.

As a gift to President Banerjee, the Columbus area Rotary Clubs gave $99,200 in his name toward the refurbishing of one of the cabins  that can be used for recuperating patients at Warm Springs in connection with the polio museum. Club President Jimmy Elder said he was sure that the $800 to raise it to $100,000 would be donated before the day was over.

I have been a Rotarian since 1972.  I can’t recall a bigger Rotary day than this one. The Columbus club is one of the largest in the world, the largest one that President Banerjee has visited. And, no doubt, it  has one of the biggest hearts in the service club world, which makes me extremely honored to be a member.    

Camp Dream--a special camp for special kids!

Brandon, an 11 year-old camper with Spina Bifida attended Camp Dream last year. He has always required help from his mother and father with every aspect of his life. Brandon is permanently in a wheelchair, so he hasn’t had much independence. His mother doesn’t have a car and is on welfare, so they depend on a welfare worker for little things like trips to the grocery store. This is a stressful situation for Brandon’s family, so anything that alleviates this stress for little or no money is much appreciated.

One of the advantages that Camp Dream provides for the parents of the campers is time to relax and de-stress. It takes a lot of time and energy to care for a disabled person, so this down time from caregiving is necessary—it is very healthy to take breaks from time to time. They will pick up their children from camp feeling rejuvenated, refreshed and ready to continue with the responsibilities with a better attitude. The parents or caregivers who are struggling financially may never have the chance to take breaks, so this is a great opportunity and experience for them.

Brandon's mother had no need to worry--Camp Dream offered enthusiastic counselors, like Ben, to be with the kids at all times.

One of the policies of Camp Dream is that the parents have to bring their children to the camp. However, when Brandon was approved to come to Camp Dream, we discovered that his mother didn’t have a car or the money to rent a car. The last thing we wanted to do was turn someone away, so we made an exception for Brandon. I drove to his home to pick him up the morning camp started.

 Brandon’s house was extremely dilapidated. There were no sidewalks and the steps going into the house were broken. The house had no ramp for Brandon’s wheelchair to get in and out of the house. I could tell that Brandon and his mother had never been apart for an extended period of time.

“Is someone going to care for Brandon the whole time he is at camp?” his mother asked. I smiled and replied, “Yes, we have staff counselors, and Brandon will have his own counselor with him the whole time he is at Camp Dream.”

Every day at home, Brandon’s decisions are made for him from the time he wakes up until he goes to sleep at night. Not only are his decisions made for him, but there is always someone who helps him around the house and when he is out. At Camp Dream, Brandon can go bowling, fishing, horseback riding and swimming—he will be more in control of his life than he ever has. He plays all kinds of games and rough houses with the other boys.

One of the biggest accomplishments for Brandon is sliding down a water slide because he’s allowed to do it by himself. When he’s on the slide, he’s totally free from his wheelchair, his caregivers and his disability. This is what Camp Dream is about—disabled children have total control of their own bodies. They can decide what they want to do and don’t want to do, choices that most of us make every day.

One of the activities that the children seem to love is dancing. I have discovered that many special needs children are uncomfortable if they go to a school dance because everyone will stare at them. However, at Camp Dream, we’re there to help these children dance, whether a counselor holds them and dances with them, we move their wheelchairs, or we roll their gurneys so they can dance!

Brandon’s counselor was named Ben, and there was an instant bond between them. Ben introduced Brandon to a wide array of new activities that Brandon never thought he could do. Ben helped him mount and ride a horse, go swimming, do arts and crafts, and simply be with other children who had special needs like his and some with different needs. The other children treated Brandon just like he was another playmate. For once, Brandon was treated as though he were like everyone else.

When the time came to go home, Brandon made sure he stayed as far away from me as he could. If Brandon saw me walking straight toward him, he’d start talking to someone. He was doing everything he could not to go home, not because he didn’t want to go home, but because he didn’t want to leave camp. When Brandon and Ben said goodbye, there were big boy tears.

Ben, a Camp Dream counselor, bonds with 11 year-old Brandon who battles Spina Bifida.

When I finally got Brandon in the car, and we were driving through the camp on the way home, Brandon was crying softly. On the way home, I asked Brandon if he’d like to get something to drink, and he replied, “Yes, sir, that would be nice.” So, we stopped, and I bought him a coke and a candy bar.

But when I handed Brandon the coke and candy bar, he didn’t open either one. I looked at him and said, “Brandon, I thought you said you wanted a coke and a candy bar.” He answered, “Yes, sir, I did, but do you mind if I wait till I get home to open them, so I can share them with my mom.”

Once we got home, I stopped outside his house and wheeled him up to the broken steps. Brandon began to sob. He held on to me with big tears in his eyes, and yes, I had big tears in my eyes too. Brandon said, “I don’t want it to be over yet.”

Brandon had an amazing time fishing, playing games and just being a kid at summer camp!

Click here to learn more about Camp Dream, and see the amazing work of the volunteers who serve a higher purpose.

Next: A Marriage of Husband And Wife With One Dream Of Volunteering

About the Author: For the last 12 years, John E. Phillips of Vestavia, Alabama, has been a professional blogger for major companies, corporations and tourism associations throughout the nation. During his 24 years as Outdoor Editor for “The Birmingham Post-Herald” newspaper, he published more than 7,000 newspaper columns and sold more than 100,000 of his photos to newspapers, magazines and internet sites. He also hosted a radio show that was syndicated at 27 radio stations; created, wrote and sold a syndicated newspaper column that ran in 38 newspapers for more than a decade; and wrote and sold more than 30 books. Learn more at http://www.nighthawkpublications.com

It was Franklin Roosevelt’s yearly tradition to go back to Warm Springs, Georgia, and celebrate Thanksgiving with the patients and staff at the polio rehabilitation center he had founded there. The patients would always prepare a little program with skits and songs, and FDR would carve the turkeys himself.

Thanksgiving 1941, though, had been much postponed. FDR’s original plans to travel to Warm Springs had been interrupted by urgent matters in Washington–the tensions with Japan were reaching a critical stage. He had delayed his visit by a week, but FDR finally arrived in time for a rescheduled Thanksgiving dinner on Saturday, November 29th.

This is a transcript of President Roosevelt’s extemporaneous remarks made at Thanksgiving dinner following the skit. A somber FDR reflects on how the rehabilitation center has grown and evolved through the years and on the simple pleasures of an American Thanksgiving and traditional football games. But the war clouds looming on the Pacific horizon weigh heavily on him, and he expresses his fears that the boys playing football that day may be defending American liberties the next year.

FDR’s comments were prescient. The President had hoped to stay in Warm Springs for several more days, but he was urgently called back to Washington by his Secretary of State. He left Warm Springs the very next day, on Sunday, November 30th–exactly a week before the attack at Pearl Harbor. As he said goodbye to his Warm Springs family, FDR declared “This may be the last time I talk to you for a long time.” He would not return to his beloved Warm Springs until 1943.

As I mentioned earlier this week, Saturday the three of us, along with the dogs drove over to Callaway Gardens, a privately owned recreation/garden area about an hour and a half from here, located in Pine Mountain, Georgia.

A very happy older dog!

It was an almost impromptu trip; I say “almost impromptu” because any trip involving a car ride with Mandy requires a 30 minute head start to allow her motion sickness medicine to kick in.  She is the only dog I know who gets car sick but loves riding in the car anyhow!

One of the lakes at Callaway Gardens

We really didn’t mean for this trip to be a scouting expedition.  There is a lot to do at Callaway Gardens – walking trails, biking trails, a chapel, a butterfly house, a vegetable garden and greenhouse garden area – but we ended up only getting to walk through the forest with the dogs around the chapel forest area so we will have to go back!

Another Lake We Drove By After Our Walk

This was the first such expedition I can recall Darwin coming on since we got him two years ago, and on the drive up there, one huge Lab/Great Dane mix was losing his mind in the back of the Ford Escape!  Tyra was excited, but without a camper behind her wasn’t excited as she could be – Tyra loves to go camping and has missed the travel trailer since we decided to get rid of it.  Mandy likes riding in her own unique way – she plants her front paws on the center console in the front, plants her back paws firmly on the back seat and alternatively lays her head on Mark and my shoulders.  (Hence the reason the motion sickness medicine is imperative!)

Tyra Looking Back for Me

When we got to Callaway, it was about 12 Eastern Time, so we decided we would walk the dogs first.  Three dogs, three people was the perfect ratio, too, although we didn’t let Kayla walk Darwin.  He is too strong and too young to trust completely.  Mandy has mellowed out enough to let Kayla walk her once in a while.

Tyra and Mandy Confer

We went to the chapel area first, and would have loved to go inside the chapel but realized that a wedding was going on (we saw the bride and bridesmaids walk by on the way to the entrance; that is what is known as “a clue!”).  Still, the forest was beautiful and the walking or biking path made it very easy to stroll along.

Come on Mom!

I had the camera, so I tried to take photographs as we walked; this made the rest of the walking party have to wait occasionally.  The forest was beautiful.

A view of the trees at Callaway Garden from inside the forest

After we had walked for a while, we came to the lake that borders the chapel, and sat down to rest for a minute.  Tyra had been trotting along gamely, but really needed the breather.

Tyra laughing during her break

Surprisingly, under Mark’s firm hand, Darwin sat still during our break and just watched the world go by!

Darwin waits patiently for break to end

Even Kayla was willing to sit down for a minute!

Kayla resting

The lake we were sitting beside was calm and surrounded by color filled trees mirrored by the water.

After our break, we followed a footpath around the lake for a little bit to see if it would take us back to the chapel.  While doing so, we found another good view of the lake.

We finally struck across the forest back to the trail so we could get back to the car, because it had been about two hours, the dogs were ready to rest and we were hungry.  That was where our plans hit a snag.

While it was one o’clock our time, it was two o’clock in Georgia and we couldn’t find a restaurant in the gardens that was open at the time.  We went by several, but not all, and then decided we had to leave the gardens to find somewhere to eat.  We found a nice little mountain grill in a shopping center at the crossroads outside Callaway, but by the time we did that it was getting late, so instead of finishing at Callaway, we took the short ten minute drive over to Warm Springs to see FDR’s Little White House.  We got there about 45 minutes before they closed, and while we could have spent a little more time there, we did get to see the house and explore the museum a little bit.  It is well worth traveling to see, too; the house itself is not nearly as grand as you might think it would be but it is comfortable and perfectly suited to the woods that surround it.  (The dogs, of course, were not allowed in; we left them in the car sleeping with the windows cracked, and they were happy to be doing so!)

Then it was time to head home, so we had to leave everything else for another day.  It is a matter of record that Mandy traveled back with her head on my or Mark’s shoulder the entire way!

Have a great weekend everyone!

Nancy

When we bathed both were open to mixed company but it was so late in the season that we had them almost to ourselves. The autumn sunshine slanted in through the mesh at the top of the roof as well as between the numerous cracks in the rather ancient looking planking.

The men’s pool is nearly seven feet deep so you have to use floats. And when you need stimulation there are two ‘jacuzzi’ pools. You sit down and the attendant allows water to sluice through at very high pressure from the pool overflows creating a noisy and exhilarating hydro massage.

As we floated, a bright red maple leaf drifted through a gap and settled on the slightly steaming surface.

Here are the hard numbers:

49 voted

29 voted to stay the course at central fremont on Capitol  -  Approximately 60%

11 wanted to forget about downtown plan and focus on the five historic districts – 22%

7 wanted downtown to be in Centerville

2 voted for Warm Springs

The results indicate that people want to stay the course and maintain the downtown at the Central Business District. Other conclusions that may be drawn are that people also want the historic districts to be developed.

A trail running presentation at Sturtevants and Baldy Hill Climb Prep session is free to the public

Ogden, UT – September 9, 2011 — The Salomon XR Crossmax rig is rolling across the country, and is in the Ketchum, Idaho area on Thursday, September 15th.

As part of Salomon’s commitment to the running community, the XR Crossmax mobile showroom is touring the United States, partnering with running specialty stores and race expositions where experts will be on hand offering gear demos and clinics on training and racing strategies. Salomon reps will host and participate in community trail runs, bringing the road trip to the trail and giving runners of all skill levels the opportunity to learn more about the sport.

Runners will be able to check out the new XR Crossmax trail running shoe and have their questions about the door-to-trail running concept answered by Salomon Tech Reps, product experts and pro athletes. The XR Crossmax offers the perfect fit, perfect grip and perfect ride and is the winner of Runner’s World Magazine’s Best Debut Award for Spring 2011.

The Salomon XR Crossmax Tour will stop here:

Group Run / Baldy Hill Climb Prep session — 5:30pm from Sturtevants Warm Springs Store/Sun Valley Ski Education Foundation, 100 Picabo St, Warm Springs Village

Salomon, the mountain sports company. Salomon was founded in 1947 in the heart of the French Alps. Since then, we’ve been creating innovative products to enhance the performance of athletes. Performance led design is our past. Performance led design is our future.
http://www.salomon.com http://www.salomonrunning.com Twitter: @salomonsports @salomon_running
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/salomonrunning

Flat-twined bag

Flat twined bags called “Wawxpa” or “Sally bags” are made by twining fine, tightly spun Indian Hemp around a cord base. The bag is decorated with a “false embroidery” technique using wool yarn that is added as the bag is woven. These bags are often called “corn husk bags” because in the past, dyed corn husks were used to in the false embroidery. Similar bags have been found in archeological digs. They were originally used by the nomadic Plateau Indians to hold roots and household goods. They were also an important part of a traditional wedding exchange. They bride’s family gave gifts of food to packaged in these bags to the family of the groom.

Reverse of the same basket

Cleora had a special story about this one: “This brightly decorated Indian “bag” with leather handles was made by wrapping corn husks, cut very fine and pulled very tightly, around a cord. Items made in this way are now almost extinct and very hard to come by. The bag is embroidered with many colors of yarn: On the front are triangular designs in each of the four corners, done in red, black and purple. A deer is embroidered in the center and trees surround it. On the back four trees are embroidered in red, purple, green, pink, and black. This was given to me by Susie Papalow, an old Warm Springs, Oregon Indian who traveled around the world with Buffalo Bill. That’s why the purse is so worn–she carried it with her and used it as her purse all those years. I have had it since about 1932.”

Sean and Jess at John's Steakhouse

Saturday afternoon, Sean and I set off to have a little peace and quiet with no talk of the scariness and uncertainty that lies ahead. Harrisonburg is a great place, but it’s also nice because it’s about 2-4 hours from anywhere you would need to be. I wanted to really get away, not just visit some place. I wanted to go somewhere that would be beautiful and peaceful.  We ended up in West Warm Springs, Virginia a little less than 2 hours after leaving.

The closest thing you might know near Warm Springs, is Hot Springs, VA. That is where the Homestead is located (many Presidents have visited). Beautiful, but quite expensive, it wasn’t on our list of places to stay. Instead, we stayed at a place called Meadow Lane Lodge and Cottages. It was nice because we had our own place separate from the house but not in the cottages that are super expensive. It was perfect. We woke up to the animals making their morning noises and mist rising from the grass. We went to sleep to the crickets and the dark, dark sky. Oh, and no cell service. We were cut off and it was pretty nice.

Sunday afternoon we did a little exploring. We drove down to the Homestead but couldn’t really figure out how to get around, so we kept driving. We ended up on route 606 toward Clifton Forge…that was scary. Sean thought it was the coolest road he’s ever been on. It was the curviest and scariest that I had been on. It was even pretty narrow at some places.  The only car we passed was a cop. I was incredibly happy to know that they patrol that road. There’s no cell service if anything happened.

Once in Clifton Forge we realize nothing is there, so we head to Covington. Still nothing there. But on the way back up 220, we saw a sign for Lake Moomaw. We figured we would check it out. Down many roads and turns later, we still couldn’t figure out how to get there. At one point we were on this one lane, scary road and I turned around. We got to the Gathright Dam and could see where we wanted to go, but just couldn’t figure out how to get there. I got frustrated, so we left and headed back.

All in all it was a wonderfully relaxing trip with crazy curvy roads and water we couldn’t find. But it was what we needed and I’m so glad we went!

Thank you Bath and Allegheny Counties for sharing your amazing beauty!

Enjoy the slideshow below

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I was called for a few days’ work on the Warm Springs reservation two hours southeast of Portland, OR.  Just east of the Cascades, it is arid and hot.  When I visited, it was 100 degrees, and it was just after 4th of July, which I was told meant wildfire season.  I haven’t had much experience with wildfires, and in my limited knowledge of them, they’re best avoided.  So, when I watched a line of fire descend the ridge, cover the welcoming Warm Springs sign, and approach me and the Airstream, I didn’t really feel like sticking around.  People in town were going about their business at the store and the post office, only stopping to watch with amusement as the fire came closer.  Pleading ignorance to the ways of eastern Oregon, I asked a firefighter for advice.  He subtly and casually suggested leaving town.  When he said the highway out of town might close down, I made the final decision to stop everything and leave quickly  While all worked out well in the end, evacuating from a wildfire certainly enhanced the adventure during my time in Warm Springs.  The equivalent culinary adventure was definitely the $6 Indian Taco made of frybread, beans, cheese, lettuce, tomato and sour cream, sold at a roadside stand by the woman who won awards for best and biggest frybread.  If the picture doesn’t do it justice, it is bigger than your face.

BART officials say the 5.4-mile Warm Springs Extension is part of a larger plan to extend their service to the Silicon Valley.

The Santa Clara County Valley Transportation Authority has taken the lead in the next phase of the project, the Berryessa extension south of Warm Springs, which will bring BART closer to downtown San Jose.

KCBS’ Bob Melrose Reports:
[audio_link url="http://nyc.podcast.play.it/media/d0/d0/d0/dY/d1/dH/d2/Y1H2_3.MP3" name="BART Directors OK Plan To Finish Fremont Warm Springs Extension" artist="Bob Melrose"]

Work on that project is scheduled to begin next year.

The contract approved by board members on Thursday calls for Warm Springs Constructors of Fairfield to design and install the trackway and associated facilities as well as to build the future Warm Springs station, which is near the Alameda County-Santa Clara County border.

This is the second major contract approved for the extension. In 2009 BART directors awarded a $140 million contract to build the subway portion of the extension below Central Park in Fremont.

BART officials said the subway section is now half-completed and they expect the station to open in 2015.

They said the Warm Springs extension, which has a total budget of $890 million, is currently $123 million under budget because the bad economy has resulted in a good bidding environment for BART.

BART Director Thomas Blalock, who represents the Fremont area, said the Warm Springs station will create tens of thousands of jobs in the short term for local residents who are out of work.

Blalock said in a statement, “In the long run, it means tens of thousands of East Bay commuters will be able to relax and ride environmentally-friendly BART instead of sitting frustrated and fuming at heavy freeway traffic while burning carbon-polluting, expensive gas.”

In a related move, BART directors also voted to join with the city of Fremont to design and construct a $120 million station in the Irvington district in Fremont, which would be between the existing Fremont station and the Warm Springs station.

The money is to come from Fremont’s redevelopment agency.

The Fremont City Council approved the agreement on Tuesday.

(Copyright 2011 by CBS San Francisco. All Rights Reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed. Wire services may have contributed to this report.)

Take a look at the photosimulation for how the station is supposed to look, and note the weird, useless pedestrian bridge jutting out into the parking lot (click image to enlarge).

Warm Springs Station

And here is a reverse-angle view:

Bridges aren’t exactly cheap, and this one appears to be functionally useless.

But flip it around the other way, and suddenly it becomes quite useful. It would provide backdoor access to the station, getting bikes and peds across the freight tracks. Maybe even facilitating real Transit-oriented-development in the vacant lots behind the station.

Warm Springs Station Area

The above satellite photo shows the Warm Springs Station Area. And yes, this area is a very desolate location for a 3rd rail subway. The station is to be located to the east (right side) of the tracks. The only way for a pedestrian or cyclist to access areas west of the station would be to take a detour via Grimmer Road. But rather than bridge that gap, BART is instead building a bridge-to-nowhere in a parking lot.

Sigh…..

I heard that the Oregon Warm Springs HMA was recently gathered. I am 10 hours from the corrals, so a friend of mine who lives a mere 25 miles from the corrals is going to take some photos for me! Oregon has some gorgeous mustangs of incredible quality. I am excited to see the photos!