Well, for a lack of anyplace better, since this site is the only forum that belongs to me, these are going to be my personal pages. They may be better than a shoebox full of old letters, half mouse-eaten, found in some musty attic. Maybe. Not as dramatic, for sure. Nothing is as fascinating as a crinkled old piece of paper containing some ancestor's innermost thoughts. This may be a poor version of that, but the ideas will be cast more widely.

And son Trevor will fill in the written stuff that doesn't get in here. If he hasn't already!

"Personal pages" doesn't mean 'private', as anybody from Australia (that's you, Ernie) to Zimbabwe can read 'em. But it means that it's stuff about my life that doesn't have anything to do with South Mt. Web Design. Just free-rambling stuff that has to do with life. Mine, and maybe yours too.

Family:

Some old family photos, a post-war family in Illinois

Motorcycle:

1969, 3,000 miles on a 125, Michigan to San Diego, to Seattle, to Idaho.

Bonneville 2009   A motorcycle trip from NM to Bonneville, to Oregon, to the California redwoods, then back home.  This is wadded up with LandRacing.com

Bonneville 2010   A similar trip to 2009, but son Trevor accompanied me on a vintage Yamaha SRX6.

Onward to 2011   Didn't make it to Bonneville, But here's the story.

Fire:

I spent 10 seasons with the Forest Service working on fires, and often setting them (controlled burns) during the off-season.  Here's a starter page on the St. Joe Fire Crew, 1968 - 69.   A U.S. Forest Service 25-man crew based out of Clarkia, Idaho. Because of a total lack of fire experience I didn't belong on the crew, but ended up there anyway. I knew I was done in '69, got drafted into the army in 1970, got out in 1972, and went back to fire for 8 more seasons. My Mother's two brothers were city firefighters in Duluth, MN. Is there a connection here?

The Army:

With draft number 124, I was sure to get drafted. Yup, did. Ended up in the 65th Platoon Military Police, Dugway, Utah. 1970-72. Hey, I learned to ride dirt bikes there...

Air:

I've always loved flying, since my first flight in a turboprop going to D.C. from Michigan on a high school senior trip ('66). The guy in the window seat had bruise marks from me climbing over to see out the window. Forest Service helitack sealed the deal. I completely drained my GI Bill on flight training, flew for a roofing company, then did a stint instructing in ultralights out of Kitty Hawk, NC (where the foolishness all began).

Bob's note: Trev slipped in the introduction, it's not mine. Much better than I did originally, mine's gone, trash. Collaboration, or the hazards of sharing web space. Anyway, there are lots of musty old things that he's going to discover sooner or later, paper and photos in the chests out in the shop, flight stuff, firefighting gear, my diaries (as spotty as they are), my Dad's WWII medals, lots more. All in a musty old shoebox.