Colin with Aunt Carolan (at Emily's Wedding Shower)

Still Deep Snow on Montana Mountain --Carolan Discovers!

Early Saturday my daughter Carolan started hiking from the Holland Lake Campground with the goal of meeting some of her friends working on the eastern side of the Swan Range in Montana's Bob Marshall Wilderness. She began on the Holland Falls Trail (Trail 416). After a couple miles she crossed  the footbridge over Holland Creek and continued on Trail 35. After 6 or so miles of hiking she skirted Upper Holland Lake and at that point had to strap on her snowshoes. She then hiked uphill in increasingly deep snow for a couple miles heading for Gordon Pass. Her goal was Shaw Cabin. As she approached the top of the Pass, which is about 7000 foot elevation, she could no longer see the trail. The snow was almost 10-feet deep in places. Carolan realized that continuing on would be dangerous, so she reluctantly turned back. She had already hiked almost  7 or 8 miles, with about as much to go to Shaw Cabin. So she hiked back 7 or 8 miles until she reached her car at the Holland Lake trailhead.  She had hiked that day 15 to 16 miles with about 4 of those miles in snowshoes. The first half of the trip was pretty steep and she was tired out and somewhat disappointed about not reaching her goal.

But who can complain about a day's hike in one of America's greatest wildernesses? Shaw Cabin will wait for another day, later in the season.

Holland Falls (image found on the internet)

Any doubts about the snow depths around Glacier National Park and The Bob can be put to rest by this image that appeared on the Glacier National Park Facebook page (below):

Logan Pass in Glacier National Park--Mid May

Old Wedding Photos (35 years old!)

I'm reposting this. We were married on May 5th, 1978, at St. George Church in Cincinnati. Fr. Harry Meyer presided. I made the bread for the Communion. I also baked the wedding cake (helped by a friend). Linda made her dress. The reception was potluck.

Linda and Bob. May 5, 1978. Reception in Mt. Airy Forest, Cincinnati.

St. George Church, Corryville/Clifton, Cincinnati

Linda, Bob, Fr. Harry Meyer. St. George's Church in Cincinnati. Linda Cotter in background center. Dad in background right.

Explaining Catholic Theology to a Four-Year-Old Kid

Catholic theology is perplexing enough to me. But remember when the nuns and priests tried to instruct us back in the 1950's? Here is a hilarious youtube segment on this topic by Irish comedian Dave Allen:

Poem on the 43rd Anniversary of the Kent State Shootings

Close to My Heart

[Kent State University

May 4, 1970. 12:24 PM]

Forty-three years ago today,

National Guardsman’s bullet,

shot 293 miles from my college dorm,

blew through my chest, landing at my heart

where it remains today. The Doc said,

“It’s too dangerous to remove. You’ll have to live

with the chronic ache.”

That day, while my cousin Maggie ran through a fog

of teargas to the Theatre Building, and high school friends

watched from the corners of trees and buildings,

Guardsmen, not much older than me, bayonets fixed--

and then, in the chaos, sixty-seven shots ring out 

on Blanket Hill.

Four dead, nine others wounded, untold traumatized,

Guardsmen and students alike. I, 

with pericardium,

peri-anima trauma,

called up Mom and Dad, back in Euclid,

Crying and yelling at them, total innocents,

for being . . . what? . . . adults, easy targets

for my pain.

Hope they forgave their hurting son,

hope the pain around the hearts of Ohioans,

Kent Staters, Americans,

hope the pain

heals.

Robert M. Coughlin

May 4, 2013

Poem about Chardon and Geauga County

Below is a draft of a poem-in-progress. It is somewhat fictionalized (my daughters are no longer little girls)--but it is true enough!

Just Under the Surface

Ratatatatatatatatatat . . .

The brutal rhythm goes on beyond my ability to count the rounds.

Any evening of the year, down at the end of my cul-de-sac, the dead end,

Or in two places across the road, less than a Hail Mary pass away,

Neighbors shoot at imagined enemies with some sort of automatic rifle--

A machine gun, in my mind, a terrible weapon of war,

Discharged into the woods in this suburban paradise.

My little daughters walking on the wooded path

The coyotes, the deer

Better beware

As a hail of fire rifles through the wood.

Under the surface under the surface of this wealthy suburban county

Like an embarrassing hateful tattoo

Is fear and hatred and violence

More intense than in the 3rd World Cleveland ghetto.

So I was not altogether surprised

When TJ Lane let loose his disturbed vision of vengeance

On innocent classmates in Chardon High School

That late winter day in 2012.

That anger, hatred, frustration is there. It is there, lurking

Just under the surface in wealthy Chardon,

Privileged Geauga County Ohio.

[Copyright 2013 by Robert M. Coughlin]