You meet the nicest people when your puppy looks like a pit and you stop at Dad's Market

Yesterday I stopped at Dad's Market for a beef and bean burrito. They are not great nor are they 99 cents anymore. But I do like the hot sauce. 

They were out so I opted for the chicken strips instead.

While waiting in line a 30-something local lady came in very excited and wanted to know who had the Pit Puppy in the pickup outside, because it was "sooo cute! And adorable!) I instantly responded as "Cute and Adorable," are generally the terms used by gravely voiced hay ladies when I load their pickups with hay. Usually prefaced by "don't climb that stack you will break your hip!"

Actually, I had momentary panic that Otis had jumped fallen out the window and hurt himself on day three of his farm adventure.

She followed me out and gave me lots of advice on raising "American Blue-Nosed Pits." I missed about 3.4 of the advice as she was sucking on her tongue ring in between words and it was very distracting.

Apparently you need to socialize your Pit or he will rip the faces of random children. 

I am choosing to believe that Otis is a happy combination of Bulldog, Terrier, and Lab and will only rip the face of rodents, tennis balls, his bed, Rosco's favorite toys, and maybe (when he is older) a Nutria!

I must admit I was leaning towards the Ralph view that dogs take a lot of commitment and probably would not have committed to another dog had not I been put in a situation where I had an option to opt out. I still think I should have just said no as soon as my wife said, "My friend needs to get rid of a puppy..." I should rehearse saying "No!" It would save me so much frustration in life... 

 

Otis spent much of yesterday planting with me. There will be some interesting patterns when he discovered that I dropped peanuts on the floor yesterday and he needed to find them. Generally, he just laid beside me on a pile of coats. As soon as I got out of the tractor to load seed he stole my seat. But... When he would see me climbing back in he would move. This was not entirely successful for him as half the time he would fall over and get stuck. But I do appreciate the sentiment.

It this the face of a Pit Bull? From this view it looks that way but generally he looks more Bulldog/Boxer type to me. Maybe I am just prejudiced.

 

I get a dog, or perhaps, a dog adopts me

Sunday I got a new puppy. His name is Otis. 

He is a mixture. Very calm and smart dog. Probably less than a year old. 

He was rescued from Tweakers so I assume he has Pit in his heritage. 

The story was that he came running out of the woods to people who were sitting at an outside restaurant and sat down with them. Shortly afterwards, a crazy tweaker lady came running out of the woods screaming at the dog. Turns out she wasn't actually the owner, just generally agitated about the dog. The folks did not return the dog to the Tweaker but also were unable to find the actual owner.

They also could not keep him so they called my lovely and gracious wife who talked me into going to "look" at Otis.

He seems to like me. Follows simple commands. Wants to be loved. Goes to sleep in the tractor. 

I had him in a pen by my pickup as I was planting for a neighbor. Otis heard them talking and escaped from his pen to go hang out with the farmer and the crop insurance guy.The crop insurance guy gave me a pack of gum business card so that turned out good. But I thought I better just put Otis in the tractor. 

Not much room in a White 2-155...

I do wish dogs smelled a little better, he probably wished I didn't smell like diesel. 

This morning I couldn't find my shoes. I looked for half an hour. I am prone to losing things. I would lose my head if it wasn't generally up my arse. I decided to check Otis's kennel. He was sleeping on my shoes. Didn't chew them up. I don't know if this means he likes me or if it means I found a dog that is going to drag dead things home and roll in them. 

 

 

September 12 we hiked from Biella to Fanes, day 2 of my Alta Via One

The morning of September 12 was beautiful. Day two started from rifugio Biella and would be an eight mile hike to rifugio Fanes. It didn't sound so bad. We were already pretty high up and according to the itinerary, we would only see a 200ft gain in altitude over the day and there would be a great stop for lunch half way.

It turned out to be 3,000ft down for lunch and then 2,200 ft back up...

The day started chilly. We watched the sunrise over the neighboring peaks. Breakfast was a choice of ham, spec, boiled eggs, bread and jam, yogurt, and cereal. I had a couple cups of strong coffee to fortify me for the day. 

There had been a frost that night. But the sun was out and I never needed a coat. We started out through rocky meadows blooming with tiny flowers. The trail was not difficult although I was a little stiff from the previous day. 

I was pretty amazed when one of the group pulled out a little Olympus XA camera. I used to have one of those! It was an awesome camera. This fellow's name is Ron and he lives on the same block as my friend in NYC. He is a "producer," and I think he writes for Saturday Night Live. Super nice guy. 

I got excited when we started seeing signs of civilization after a couple hours. Not really recent civilization but it gave me a false hope.

It was a long and winding road...

 

We dropped down through cow pastures and a few scattered buildings. This seems to be a pretty popular day hike but most of the traffic seemed to be going up past us.

We were headed for Pederu which is a popular mountain inn and a starting spot to hike up to Fanes. There is a shuttle bus service to this spot and lots of day hikers. The food is good and you think it will be an easy day. In fact I kept meeting rather chubby families on their way down as I was heading up. It was a bit disconcerting as I was sweating buckets. 

I made the mistake of ordering schitzel instead of the goulash. The Schnitzel was kind of dry and breaded and pretty much that is all you get. The Goulash was basically gravy and meat with a couple carrots. Very tasty. 

 

Rocks and occasional tiny flowers was the view

It was a warm day. It was nice to know I was half way but then again, I was only half way... Last half was better than the first half

The hike up from Pederu just kept getting steeper. I soon realized that I just needed to take small steps and focus one foot in front of the other. The trees disappeared and we headed into a wandering rock landscape which was beautiful but hard to follow. I kept dropping back and was soon plugging away by myself.

All of a sudden we were out of the boulders and into trees. Soon there were bells and then there were cows. If you observe the photo they stack cows on top of each other to say pasture space

I was following a couple America hikers who were from Pacific Northwest via Texas. They were worn out and kept stopping. I hated to pass them but I also did not want to get terribly behind. Fortunately a good part of the group were waiting for stragglers and the last part of the hike was mostly level and and easy walk. 

Everyone in the group was interesting and generally positive guys with a good sense of humor.  So the group hikes were interesting. I generally focused on one foot in front of the other and tried not to bore people with farming stories.

Fanes was beautiful. It was in a little valley surrounded by cow pastures. There was even a ice cold lake which I missed swimming in as I went and took a shower and a handful of advil. 

The rifugio was more of a resort. There was an outdoor deck and a rustic dining room. Supper was wonderful. I had Spaghetti Carbonara for first course, pork loin with polenta (of course) for second and a raspberry mousse four desert.

Spaghetti Carbonara with a tasty piece of bacon was my choice for first course. 

 

It was a small pork loin but the polenta was generous, as usual..

 

Desserts were generally pretty wonderful. Raspberry Mousse with a little crunch waffle.

 

 

 

I thought this was funny. One of the few actual lawns I saw on the hike. The robot mower has ran into a large rock and just dug itself a hole. Probably just exgroundskeeper humor. Sort of like training stoned workstudy kids at the almost broke local university

 

 

Rosco gives me a hand with the hay

The end of the season should be a time when you look forward to a slow down. But now there is late season hay, feed to make, wheat to plant, and farm equipment to clean and put away. Maybe I should have had more kids...

I need a sidekick...

 

This is an incredibly modern hay raking setup. Rosco is  a very helpful dog.

 

I finally make it to Rifugio Biella and am suprised to discover that I did not die of exhaustion on the trail. Still questioning life choices

It was a beautiful afternoon in Italy. September 11, 2026 started with clouds and a threat of rain, but by afternoon the sun was out and the sky was a beautiful blue, and it started to get hot.

I started to get hot because I was in the process of climbing 3,000 feet and it felt like I was going straight up the steepest staircase you would ever want to meet.

When I was a grounder, one of my duties was to clean up the football stands after games. It was a great job as I found spare change and swag. I never had to actually buy school t-shirts or sweatshirts, I generally found them in the wild. 

Just to be cool in my own little mind, sometimes I would run up the bleachers with my leaf blower on the back.  (Later I found it had really amused the football players to see the old grounder dude running the bleachers with his leaf blower)

This was basically the same thing. Except I was three years older and no where near the shape I was in then.

The scenery was epic at first. As the pain increased my appreciation for bright white rocks began to diminish substantially as did my ability to see much beyond my next step.

To add insult to injury, just about the time I was thinking I would sit down and cry, a fat and jolly European dude would be happily descending past me. Sometimes they would exclaim (in heavily accented English) "there's beer at the top mate!"

What I could never figure out, is how they ever got to Rifugio Biella in the first place! 

Rifiguio Biella is tiny and it is at the top of a 3,000 ft climb. Tour busses do not go there. How could there be a fat dude with no back pack, and no climbing poles, be happily descending a mountain after quaffing steins of beer?  It did not seem right...

Here is the second issue... When they say the hike from Lago di Braies to rifugio Biella is 3,000ft up and 370 ft down, and four miles, they neglect the most important part. The first 2.5 miles are virtually flat. The higher you go the steeper the climb. 

The rifugio itself is beautiful and rustic. You have to climb down a couple hundred feet to where it is perched on the side of a rocky hillside. (mountain side) The view of the surrounding Dolomite Mountains was amazing. Up above us there were funny sheep with long straight horns silhouetted against the afternoon sun. 

In fact, the physically fit members of the group hiked up there and took pictures. Not all twenty of the more physically fit members. A few of them were drinking beer on the balcony and quite relaxed when I staggered in.

I was secretly pleased to hear that there was in fact, one guy behind me yet. After their invigorating climb, a couple of the more athletic guys went back and encouraged him in. I took a shower.

Dinner was pretty impressive. I forgot to write down everything because that is just me but...

There were three or four courses. I missed the first one as I was in the shower but the second was a simple spaghetti, followed by plates of Spec dumpling balls in a broth. These were good at first but later solidified in my gut and over the course of the trip I learned to avoid them. Spec is a cured ham and can be really good or it can also have a weird and disgusting after flavor.

Dinner was good, especially the chocolate desserts and Apple Strudel. 

I was tired and ready for bed. I didn't know how tired until I tried to climb the ladder to my bunk and honestly was worried I was not going to be able to do so.

But, now I must go make chicken feed as my customers are starting to get a little angry...

 

 

 

  

Lake Braies is truly a postcard sight. Of course, due to man made global climate change, it is a little low this year and probably will go dry completely due to that mean Orange man who is out to ruin the world. To echo a common theme of the privileged and correct thinking class...

 

The lake kept getting smaller and smaller...

 

Eventually the lake disappeared as did the trees and there was nothing but white rocks and blue sky and constant suffering.

 

The sunset from Rifugio Biella is amazing. You are on top of the world!

 

The sky went from pink to yellow in twenty seconds.

 

  

Rifugio Biella is one of the older rifugios we stayed at and was the most rustic. It is amazing that there were WWI battles fought in this area. Even more amazing that people have been living here for hundreds of years. It is barren.

 

You don't often visit a place where exploded WW1 ordnance are used for planters. The poor plant in this one is obviously the victim of Trump caused global climate change but was probably a vigorous native plant under a different administration.

 

This is my selfie just before my phone died. Note the rocks. I am a long way up from the lake. I got a long way to go... I am a long way from the farm...

 

 

I attempt to teach a subversive slogan to Italian H.O.G member and rant about things that probably won't make any sense to anyone else

I do not think of HOG owners when I think of European Bike culture. I think of cafe racers, athletic guys on impossibly huge dual-sport motorcyles, crazy guys on extreme sport bikes or maybe a scooter gang with lots of mirrors on their vintage Vespas, but not a Harley Owner's Group.

Alta Via one starts at Lake Lago di Braies. This is beautiful turquoise alpine lake at the north end of the Dolomites. The steep mountain sides come right down to the lake shore and the white limestone looks like snow against the trees.

Hotel Lago di Braies is right beside the lake and right at the start of a trail that runs around the lake. It is a popular tourist destination where you can have lunch, do a hike, and you can also rent a row boat and row across the lake. 

The tourists were interesting. I have never really seen the influencer tourist before. This easily identified by the boyfriend taking photos of the girl friend with the perfect scene in the background. There were plenty of Selfie sticks and even a drone or two. A lot of Asian tourists and a few Americans, and then the 24 of us.

I was half way around the lake and almost to the trail head when I spotted these folks. 

 

Meeting interesting people is really the point of traveling. I am not great at it. These bikers were so completely out of place on the trail I stopped and tried conversation. We showed each other pictures of our motorcycles on our phones. The lady had great helmet art. The guy had rebel flags. It was a good meeting.

 

I wish I would have taken a picture of the lady's helmet art. It was 1950's tattoo style line drawings and was pretty cool. But, I was distracted by her beefy boyfriend's dual rebel flags on his helmet and his numerous patches. 

I attempted conversation...

He showed me his patches. I tried to teach him to say, "The South Will Rise Again!" This was not very successful and I was getting left behind.

 

Rockabilly Rebel and the South Will Rise Again. Harley Owner Groups are a thing in Europe. Something I never really thought about. Not really a good place to ride a cruiser in my humble opinion. But what do I know? I was WALKING...

 

Other members of the group were shocked and amused by his racist symbols. I started to explain European "rebel" biking culture and vintage Rockabilly but decided that was a "lost cause." (See what I did with that...lost cause?) (NOTE: you need to click on this link... There is a absolute divide between social classes world wide.  The Huff Post types are everywhere now. People wear the rebel flag because it has been a symbol of countryfolk, working class, rock and roll, down and outers, sticking it to the Man. The Man being, as it has always been, the Yankee, Elitist, Smug, Pricks that are always telling you there is something you can't do. No one gives a rip about black people being enslaved 300 years ago. We got our own problems... The Yankee, clings to the Rebel Flag and cotton, and lynching, as their icon of white guilt and they have emotional melt downs when ever they see it.)

Which brings me to another observation. It was pretty interesting to see the difference in culture between people I work with/live with, and the kind smug liberalism that Ivy league educated, city educated, environmentally aware, pop culture involved people have. Super nice people on the trip. Nothing against any of them. I just understand why a certain social/economic/cultural group of us voted Donald Trump even though we kind of hate him. 

I just wish I could articulate it as well. I would be with the group and then I would find some person like me, couple kids, the receptionist at the hotel, I would start talking farming, or motorcycles, or thin crust pizza and all of a sudden our social class clicked, and we were friends. 

If you are interested in my crazy political commentary...

Another article about the rise of the Lost Cause Movement from the Yankee perspective. Yankees doing what Yankees do... Telling the world how to live their lives and at the same time, Owning slaves, flying on Epstein's Jet, telling the Hungarians to revolt and then hanging them out to dry, telling the Iranians to revolt and then hanging them out to dry, telling the Ukrainians to resist and then milking them for every red cent they have... 

Edit: I had to come back because I realized I had started something sideways and I should either delete or explain. I resent seeing social manipulation and it not being called social manipulation, but rather being called "woke," or just the assumption that because I went to college and listened to a communist for the first time, I am undeniably right because I believe what I am saying.  In fact, Lenin explicitly taught and practiced the tactic of capturing and weaponizing political language and symbols. The technique is to take an opponents language and symbols, reframe their moral claims, turn the imagery against them. The rebel flag and the lost cause ideology was an easy thing to reframe because the Confederacy supported slavery. What really pissed off the Yankee was that the lost cause mythology empowered people they prefer to keep down. (not to mention the culture war between English and Scotts-Irish).  The mythology was not the noble North freeing the black man, it was becoming the Bully North kicking poor southerners to the curb. The educational elite really hate that narrative and they really hate people who question their authority. 

But I might have some bitterness... 

 

Back to the farm. The problems of readjusting to the drudgery and suffering of everyday life after jetsetting around the world (WARNING Contains selfies)

A week ago I was in Italy. Farming was just a vague dread in the back of my mind. Yesterday I was walking across a field to get my pickup because of a breakdown. 

 

Look at me on Saturday afternoon! Happy and optimistic and ready to get to work. 

 

Someone pulled the pull rope off the air compressor and the battery was dead and I had a flat.

So I hiked...

It wasn't at 10,000 feet, but the view wasn't the same either.

 

This is me yesterday afternoon. Super happy to be hiking across a field and absolutely ready to get work done! Farming is not so much a profession as a lifestyle and I am truly living the life!

I have a field of hay that got rained on, I have somewhere between one and six ton of feed to make depending on which customers have already ditched me, there is 200 acres of annual ryegrass to plant, and I only managed to plant 3 acres of Timothy seed. Apparently, I did not blow out the small seed tubes and while I can't get Teff to grow when I actually plant it in dirt, it will sprout and grow three inches in that little bend in my small seed tubes...

 

So it is only 7:30 pm and getting dark. The drill plugged up every 50 feet. The kitchen range failed Sunday and the part arrived Monday. My wife texted me to come fix it so I did take a wee break from cleaning seed tubes every 100 feet. Finally I checked the seed rate and decided just not to plant in the dark. Plus, after being exposed to COVID day one and never getting more than my usual allergetic sniffle on the trip. I come home and get sick... (not the WuFlu, just the usual summer cold, grumpy and tired and a constant headache...)

 

One of the arguments for the trip was, why worry? Your work will be here when you get home... Yes, and that was my argument against. My work is in fact still here, but my motivation is not... 

But, the trip was great and I don't remember wondering if I would make it up the hill. I just remember how happy I was to be at the top!

Have a nice day... I will probably post more about my trip tomorrow. I got distracted today.

 

 

Now here is something you don't see everyday on the farm!