Category Archives: travel

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St. Brendan the Navigator

Brendan McCarthy- our “illustrious” National Tour Guide. Seen here making a St. Brigid’s Cross for Janet. We called him Brendan the Navigator after the famous monk who discovered the New World 1000 years before Leif Erikson.

Cead mile faitle is the traditional Irish greeting that means one hundred thousand welcomes in Gaelic, the native language of Ireland. And if there were ever a country that welcomes you with open arms, it is Ireland, and their extremely friendly people. Now I could give you a travelogue about our recent trip to Ireland, but instead of boring you to death, I am going to tell you about Brendan McCarthy, our National Certified tour guide, who embodies all the qualities of the Irish that I really, really like. Most countries have a rather neutral, at best, feeling about Americans. Not true of the Irish who cherish their relationships with Americans. I think partly because in some way, they feel that we are all related and are coming back to visit our roots. Brendan certainly made us feel that way.

Early in the trip, we visited the lovely seaside town of Kinsale on the southern tip of Ireland. Before we met the local tour guide, Brendan took us to a high piece of ground that was dedicated to the 343 New York City Firefighters who lost their lives during 9/11. Brendan related the story of the woman who worked as a nurse in New York and donated her land in Ireland to be a spot of remembrance. Brendan knew her and actually planted many of the trees that are standing there today in memory of those brave men. He actually became emotional as he told us how he drove down on the day of the planting, two hours each way. He said he loved Americans and had a huge hole in his heart that day when the firefighters were killed. He wanted to be a part of the dedication in Kinsale. That day, we got a glimpse into the character of Brendan McCarthy.

The Irish are funny, witty, but emotional people. Much of that is seen in the writings of the poets and authors of Ireland, and also with Brendan, and even myself in a way. That day, I saw a bit of myself in the personality of Brendan. In fact, all during our trip, I felt that I knew many of the people somehow because not only was I viewing my geneaology, but also talking to the people, I felt close to them because, well, they are somehow….my people. Yes- they are warm and friendly, but I have to tell you they are funny as hell too! As Brendan regaled us with the history of Ireland, day after day on our van, he also let loose with some really funny sayings that we all grew to love. Like when he wanted us to take a comfort stop, he said in his very lilting Irish brogue, ” I want yous all to squeeze the lemon and be bums in seats in 15 minutes.” Squeeze the lemon!!! Hilarious. As a typical Irishman, he also humored us with many stories and pronounced “th” as “t.” For instance, ” I know what you are tinkin” ” I want you on the bus at 8 turty” ” The time is 5 turty tree.” We all got a kick out of his distinctive and lyrical brogue, and I am sure he wondered about my dahn and ahhts from Pittsburgh as well. He referred to “herself” and “himself”. There is himself. There is herself- in the altogether. He would tell us a story and then say,” Look it up.” It is the troot” ” I swear to God”. We believed him even though we thought that just maybe he stretched the troot sometimes. LOL!! But you would never find a happier guy and he made it his business to take us to all the nooks and crannies that people might not see. Like the bridge from the movie “The Quiet Man”. Or Paidi O’Se’s pub in Dingle that had a lot of memorabilia from many of the Gaelic sports heroes. Brendan made it his business to show us places that a lot of tourists may not find on their own.

The bridge from The Quiet Man in Cong, Ireland. I could just see John Wayne sitting on that wall.
Janet and Brendan dancing on the bus.
We met up with our pal Mike Dunlay, who bought a house in Dingle. He and Brendan hit it off instantly.
The Cliffs of Moher
Blarney Castle
Our group. Strangers at first. Friends in the end. All due to the glue that was Brendan McCarthy.

But perhaps one of the most touching moments, was when Brendan stopped at St Brigid’s Well, a place dedicated to the female patron saint of Ireland. There he asked us all to depart the bus, and go into the cave that housed the well, say a prayer, and as we all exited the well, Brendan had us hold hands and circle up as he recited the Lord’s Prayer in Gaelic. He then took an older St Brigid’s cross and put in back in the well area in dedication to his mother who he lost the previous year. Well after that, my bladder was behind my eyeballs for sure, and we all got another glimpse into the character of Brendan McCarthy. The Irish are close to their mothers and this was a little stop that was very touching.

St Brigid’s Well site.
The well itself.

As we drove to and through breathtaking scenery that featured the west coast of Ireland, Brendan kept us entertained with history, local lore, and some very funny jokes. Very dry. Like- he pointed out a cemetery and said that the guy that invented the crossword puzzle was buried there. I asked where, giving him the opportunity for the punchline, and he said, ” 6 down and four across.” We all chuckled at that one. He also said that people are buried in Ireland at noon. So, if you get into an argument with an Irishman, the final line may just be…………..” you’ll go out at noon.” I loved that line and we used it on each other for the rest of the trip and laughed out heads off.

We were very pleased with Brendan and also the company he works for called Irish Tours for You. You can find them on the internet and I would highly recommend them. My contact was Fionnuala O’ Loughlin ( How about that great Irish name!) fionnuala@irishtoursforyou.com They even came to meet us for lunch on the last day to say good bye. You will never find a better tour and never find people easier to work with.

Fionnuala second from right and Ellen from Irish Tours for You.

As I thought about the trip and all we saw on the plane ride home, I thought how much the people, the food, and the scenery meant to me. I was very comfortable in Ireland as I thought about the food my grandma cooked, the sayings that my mother and grandmother said along with the sayings of my father in law- George Bope – who loved being Irish. I can’t wait to go back again. And If I do, I will surely contact St. Brendan the Navigator to come with us again for sure. Thanks for reading. Slainte’

A very young Pat McCloskey cycling in Ireland years ago. Can’t believe I waited 40 years to go back.

“May the saddest day of your future, be no worse than the happiest day of your past.”

“May the walls of your home never fall in and those within them never fall out.”

“May you live for a hundred years with one more year to repent.”

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The Bowl from Dingle

Years ago, I rode my road bike through Ireland and had the experience of a lifetime. Great stories like when the guy in the pub asked me,” Where are you from Yank?” I asked how he knew. He said, ” not many people wear shorts and running shoes around here.” We both had a chuckle(craic) over a classic Guiness pint. Or the guy who took me to his friend at the hardware store and told him to sell me a lock for my bike and not to ” give him a hooking.” We laughed at that one too and he told me he was a proud member of Alcoholics Anonymous and this was his good deed for the day. The Irish are real characters molded by their history, weather, and humor.

As I made my way west, I ended up in the Dingle Peninsula where I came across a pottery shop. I bought this bowl seen above and had it shipped to my home as I could not carry it while riding the bike. Most days, I was gone all day on the bike. Just me-self, peddling me arse all over the country. So, when the bowl arrived weeks later, I was so thrilled to get it and lo and behold( or faith and begorrah), I have had this bowl for almost 40 years. It has proudly served me soup, cereal, oatmeal, salsa, pasta, and many other meals over the years and every time I use it, I think of the Dingle Peninsula, the Ring of Kerry and the whole west coast of Ireland, which by bicycle, was absolutely spectacular.

A very young Pat McCloskey riding through the Sod.

But the amazing thing about the bowl is how well it has held up over all these years. Hours in the dishwasher, sitting on the counter, etc. Didn’t crack, break, or become useless much like it’s owner. Somehow it manages to stand the test of time and still be the bowl that I remember all those years ago. Truthfully, it has held up pretty well considering the abuse of 40 years. It is a beautiful, workable, piece of art. Everyone should have a cereal bowl like this- especially with it’s history.

Another miracle- shamrocks that were my mother’s. She passed 20 years ago.

Riding my road bike through Ireland was a treat. I was given a map in the morning at breakfast, and all I had to do was make it to the next stop on the tour by dinner time. The van took my bags to each town. All day, by myself, taking in the sounds, sights, and smells of Ireland. It has been a long time since I have been there, and I can’t believe that Janet and I have not been back. That hiatus will end this August when we will go to Ireland. Me, for only the second time, and Janet for the first time. I can’t wait to see the changes and some of the places where I have not been. Gratefully, Dingle is on the program. As beautiful a seaside village as you will ever see and as far west as Europe goes. In fact, there is a sign that identifies a Catholic church as the westernmost parish in Europe. Next parish- Boston, Mass. This time we will not be riding bicycles. We will be in a small van with some other folks. Hopefully I will remember some of the roads where I rode my road bike like Sleigh Head Drive? Maybe we will see the sheep with the colorful dots on their backs identifying their flock. An aside on my bike trip, I came whipping around a bend and came upon a flock of these colorfully marked sheep and slammed on my brakes. The shepherd said” it would have been a soft landin there laddie.” The Irish humor is dry and so funny. Maybe I will buy another bowl in Dingle? Maybe not? Chances are this one will outlast me. Slainte’ Thanks for reading.

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The Drive North

Back in the day, at this time of the year, I always packed my skis, boots and bags in my vehicle and headed north to New England. Not only because I usually wanted to get a jump on the season down here in the Mid Atlantic, but because I always liked the whole atmosphere of winter in New England. I would sign up for a PSIA clinic and get some additional training as well as see some old friends in Vermont. Back in those days, I think I was more proud of achieving my (Full Certified- now Level III) ski instructor certification at Killington than I was graduating from Allegheny College. I remember telling my dad that I wanted to take my certification and he said, ” fine- just don’t make a career out of it.” That was right after I spent the winter after graduation in Sugarloaf, Maine teaching skiing. I made a lot of friends up there and continued to travel to New England in the early winters.

There was something special to me about loading up the vehicle, turning on the Christmas music on the radio, and making the long drive up Interstate 79, to Interstate 90 in New York, to I-87 North and over to Vermont and points north. I loved driving in the winter seeing the quaint little villages with their Christmas lights twinkling. I couldn’t help thinking that I would love to live and work up there, and enjoy life in the outdoors. It really was right up my alley and I looked forward to my trips. Never made the jump, but always took time out to take the long drive in all kinds of weather to take in what Vermont, New Hampshire, upstate New York, and Maine had to offer. I really was not fully accepting of my role in my family business and would think a lot about how life could be so different. But one thing led to another, and I ended up making a lot of trips instead of making the move permanently. And that’s ok because life has been good to me.

Giving you a chance to peek under my hood for a moment, I never really was a career guy. I worked so I could enjoy life. I might have been able to perhaps achieve more, but looking back, I am happy that I enjoyed things like driving through a Vermont village, in a softly falling snow, looking at decorated Christmas trees, and thinking about skiing in a place where skiing is important. The thing I like about New Englanders is their passion for skiing, hiking and all things outdoors. It is really part of the fabric up there and the Currier and Ives atmosphere only enhances the feeling I get when I visit.

I have skied in 111 different areas in my life and a good many of those areas are in New England. PSIA clinics, skiing with my friends Eric, Helen, Hutch, and Mike Smith, and racking up the vertical all those years coupled with thousands of miles of driving, fueled my love for the Green and White Mountains and the Adirondacks. I feel ,somehow, that I am connected to that area of the country. I like the west, but I have always had a soft spot for places like the Beast, Stowe, Sugarloaf, and even a lot of the smaller, more quaint family run areas. Loved the early season runs on Cascade at Killington, on bullet proof conditions with the snowmaking guns making me look like a glazed donut. I always loved towns like Middlebury, Vermont, North Conway, New Hampshire, Waitsfield, Vermont and my always enjoyable times in summer and winter with the Durfees in Bethel, Vermont. Always had a liking for Lake Placid in the Adirondacks too, skiing in the pouring rain on the Summit Chair at Whiteface. For someone who lives in the Mid-Atlantic, I have racked up a lot of time in those mountains and towns. Closing the hood now, yes, maybe I could have been more career minded, but the time spent enjoying my life and times in the outdoors will never take a back seat to what could have been had I pursued a professional career. I have been blessed with good opportunities to earn a living, but had I done something else, I may not have had the time to jam my vehicles with my toys and head north.

Thinking about those days at this time of year, with the harrowing drives on the New York State Thruway, I-87 and the sometimes, blinding miles on RT 7 in Vermont, it always was worth the hazard. After a while, I never even looked at a map because I knew the routes in my head. Have not been up north in a couple of years. But am looking forward to taking Janet someday up to my old stomping grounds. She has had some experience up there, with me, but the weather was not kind to her. LOL!! But she is a gamer, and she will make that New England road trip sometime soon. Think snow and thanks for reading.

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Norm!!!!!

Norm Dick on the right in yellow ball cap. The Armada Supply Chain Solutions Colorado Relay Team

Back in the day, I was manager of the customer service department and the field service department and traveled a lot with my job for Armada Supply Chain Solutions. I am in my 25th year with Armada but in a different capacity now with very little traveling. But going back a few years, I was on the road working with suppliers and distribution centers. I always had my toys with me and either took some time to ride my road bike or mountain bike or ski in a lot of the areas where I traveled. When that was not possible, I always went for a run. But I always made it my business to do something fun and enjoy the places where I went for work. Business first, but always enjoyed something outdoors in the local area.

Crystal Mountain, Washington – one of my favorite ski areas to visit when visiting the Portland, Oregon, and Sumner, Washington DCs.
My old pals from the neighborhood- the Nicolette brothers. My guests at a Chipotle outing at A Basin, Colorado.

For two years, I was assigned to travel with our VP Norm Dick. I wasn’t too sure what to think because I had been pretty much on my own in my travels for the company. But Norm and I started to communicate, and it didn’t take too long to see that he and I were very compatible. Norm knew everyone in the McDonald’s system and introduced me to the real players in the world of the red headed clown. I, in turn, introduced him to my friends in the DCs and we got along just fine. You see, Norm liked to have a good time- business first, but have a good time for sure while traveling. He would take me to Ronald McDonald House golf outings as he was an excellent golfer and me……..not so much. I took my clubs one time to an outing in California and brought my father in law’s old golf shoes that I found in his basement. Norm took one look at them and threw them out the window on I-5 and said………” we need to get you new shoes.” My father- in- law asked where the shoes were, and I sheepishly replied, on my return, that they were on the freeway in California.

Norm and I went to Deer Valley to ski with our pal Chris Snelten who is the GM of the Salt Lake DC. We actually made our presentation in our ski gear and then hustled up to Deer Valley to ski with Chris who said that from now on, we need to do these presentations on the chair lift. Save some time. We all laughed. Norm made fun of my duct taped ski pants and said you can’t ski at Deer Valley with duct taped pants. I told Norm that I have skied in 111 different ski areas in my life and never got a blink on my clothes. We all laughed at that one too. I may not have been a good golfer, but I can ski, and Norm and I had a great time on the slopes as well as in the DCs making the pitch for managed freight and other customer related issues.

Scheming another trip with Norm.

When we had a team in the Colorado Relay, which was a 24- Hour trail running race to benefit Outward Bound, Norm was our driver and manager. He made sure we all were on time for our legs and if that meant kicking us in our sleeping bags on the lawn of a school, he did it. Wake up dummies. He met me at a bar in Copper Mountain at the end of one of my legs. He looked at me and said…..” you look like shit.” I laughed and said ” no kidding- I just ran 8 miles basically uphill at altitude” We ran those races as a benefit for RMHC and Norm loved it. He and Chrissy Mullen – our other manager and van driver kept us on track and in line. Chrissy ended up running it herself one year.

Norm and I traveled everywhere and there were a lot of laughs along the way. In what I thought was going to be a tough stint traveling with our VP, turned out to be one of the more educational experiences of my life. In more ways than one. I remember one time when we were visiting with a DC and a McDonald’s regional manager, Norm was confronted by the DC GM who said” what do we need Armada for?” ” You guys are just middle- men.” Norm looked at him and said ” fine- order direct and see the walls of your DC just explode out into the street.” He shut the guy up and the McDonald’s guy looked at me and I whispered to him…….” don’t mess with Norm.” Norm knew his stuff and if needed, he would say so forcefully. But always, Norm was well known and respected in the system. And he was hilarious. I could write a book on our travels and adventures but safe to say……. we got our work done and had a good time doing it.

Pat Heffernan – GM at Martin-Brower Cleveland and Pittsburgh DCs, with fellow cyclist and Armada VP of Supply Chain Engineering, JR Ellis. Ray’s – indoor cycling facility- Cleveland. We found all the cyclists and skiers in the McDonald’s system.

One more thing about Norm- he was an amazing driver. He could look at you and be making a point driving the Dan Ryan in Chicago at 80 MPH in the rain. I kept hinting to him to look ahead- but he was making a point to me. We always arrived in one piece. He never let me drive- I drive too slow. He said to me, ” how come you ski so fast and drive so slow?” One time in Atlanta ,he rear ended a pickup truck and complained that the rental car brakes were bad. He said he was going to report that when he returned the car. LOL!!! The guy we hit looked like he didn’t want to have any police nearby and didn’t want any part of the accident. He looked at Norm and looked at the cars and shook his head and quickly headed from the scene.

Norm is now retired in Chicago and also at his new winter place near Scottsdale. We keep in touch but there was nothing like traveling with Norm. We even got the wives in on it as Norm would refer to it as a “boondoggle.” He always asked about Janet Lee, and I always asked about Janet Marie. We had some good times on the west coast.

It is not often that people have good experiences traveling with their boss or a top brass in the company. Norm was the exception. Everywhere we went, people would give him the Cheers greeting…….”Norm!!!!!!!!!” I would laugh. Good times and always wish the best for Norm. Thanks for reading.

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9/11 in PC

McPolin Farm – Park City, Utah
Old friends are the best!

Janet and I had the opportunity to visit Park City, Utah last week and do some hiking in the spectacular Wasatch range. We generally visit the west during the winter for skiing but decided to augment that with a trip to see Park City in the summer. The town is bustling and the weather is usually downright perfect for walking around and hiking in the neighboring ski resorts like Park City, Deer Valley, and the Canyons. We also took a trip to Sundance which is well worth the drive and the hike up to Stewart Falls was spectacular. We enjoyed that opportunity with our dear friends, the Birsics, who are Park City residents.

Sundance, Utah

Janet likes to hike and we do a lot of that at home. This was a little different in that the hikes are a little more strenuous but she was a trooper as we climbed lots of vertical feet to witness some of the most breathtaking vistas in the Wasatch. As we hiked through aspen groves and wildflower lined hiking trails, we marveled at just how beautiful the mountains are in the summer. Crossing some of the ski slopes, I reminded Janet of where we were and how she had skied them this past winter. She remarked that they looked a lot more steep in the summer. A typical comment for someone viewing ski trails in the off season. We just missed the fall season with the changing leaves but we had a hint of it here and there where a short storm blew in and the leaves began to fall in the chillier stormy wind. We could see the beginning of fall with some of the leaves already starting to turn in what is a rather short season in Utah.

Views of the Jordanelle Reservoir in Heber from Deer Valley

All week the weather was beautiful and we took advantage of great restaurants, shops, and other places of interest in Park City. On Saturday, September the 11th, we visited the McPolin Farm for a little walk on their well maintained hiking paths and our eyes became fixed on the huge American flag that hangs from the iconic white barn that is visible from the highway. People were clamoring to get a photo op in front of the flag and I wondered to myself if they just wanted the photo op or whether they had some sense of patriotism on the day commemorating the tragedy in the twin towers, the Pentagon, and Shanksville. Jan and I had our opportunity for the photo and thought about what President Bush had said that morning. In an eloquent speech from Shanksville, site of the Flight 93 crash, the former President tried to rally all of us to move on from the partisan politics and realize that we are all Americans. Whether you are conservative or liberal in political persuasions, white, black, Latino, native American, or whatever, we are all Americans and should band together to realize that we all are brothers and sisters under this banner of democracy and freedom. The former President said it so well.

As we wound down our week of being in the beautiful mountains, we kept telling ourselves how blessed we were to visit such a great town in a great part of the country. The 9/11 date gave us pause to reflect on how all of us who live in America are blessed to have great opportunities, the chance to help our fellow citizens, and the general feeling of kindness that should be the hallmark of all Americans. We live in a beautiful country and people from all over the world come to visit what we call home. As I looked at that flag one more time, I said a little prayer that all of us come together. Just like we did on that fateful day in 2001. I will never forget that day and neither will all of us who saw the details of that day unfold. We need to appreciate our country, the landscape from ” sea to shining sea”, and know that we are better than what has transpired in this last year. I look at those mountains and think what a great country we have. Happy to be able to see it and thankful for the opportunity to enjoy it. Thanks for reading.

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In Search of Gemutlichkeit

Kitzbuhel, Austria

I have always been an atmosphere guy. Nothing did my heart better this year than having a white Christmas here at home. It just added to the atmosphere or the Gemutlichkeit as the Europeans would say. Getmutlichkeit officially is described as a feeling of warmth, friendliness, and good cheer. But it is so much more with the creation of atmosphere in a particular setting.

I love to ski but there is so much more to skiing than just sliding down a hill. The first time I learned that was when I was a kid and walked around our local ski resort – Seven Springs, and took in the Bavarian atmosphere. The log, stone, and glass architecture of the old world was present in the original buildings built by Adolph Dupre back in the 30s. I related skiing to this wonderful world of European elegance which I could not wait to take in someday.

The Town of Kitzbuhel

Fast forward and I was in a little church in Engleberg, Switzerland for midnight mass at Christmas. As I listened to Silent Night sung in a German dialect, I was enthralled with the atmosphere of this little town in the Alps. Later in my young life I returned to Europe and was part of a PSIA Ski Instructors outing in Austria where we skied and visited many places in the Austrian Tyrol. I learned the significance of plum schnapps (tough on the stomach but you can never refuse it),and the fun tradition of the Rodelrennen which is a sled race down the mountain roads in which I took part. After the race, we all went to the awards in the town of Kuthai and I reveled in the Gemutlichkeit of the local party and the understanding that skiing is a lifestyle in Austria. The atmosphere that is created there with the food, the beer, and the traditions celebrates everything winter. I was hooked for sure.

Rodelrennen in Austria

My wife Janet and I spent our honeymoon hiking in the Swiss Alps and visiting Austria once again and together we experienced that Gemutlichkeit in places like Verbier and Zermatt , where a candlelight fondue set the atmosphere just right. We have not been back since, and it is on the bucket list to return someday to take all of that in.

Today- I still search for that wonderful way of life when we travel westward. Some of the ski areas of the west still create that Bavarian atmosphere and it makes the trip aside from great ski conditions . Perhaps the closest we get is when we visit our good friends the Birsics in Park City and take in lunch at the Stein Eriksen Lodge.

Although the atmosphere is Norwegian, it still celebrates the feeling of Gemutlichkeit in the mountains of Utah. Nothing like coming in from the slopes and walking in to the Stein and having lunch. Linen tablecloths, fantastic food and drink and looking at all of Stein’s awards and medals in the trophy case just make the ski day all that more special. Spoken by a man who currently eats a peanut butter sandwich and boots up in his Jeep due to Covid regulations at our local area.

We celebrate a little Gemutlichkeit in our home around the holidays. Janet makes it her business to create that Christmas atmosphere with the decorations and the food.

So, I don’t know, I am just an atmosphere guy. I love the winter and when I have an opportunity to create or take in that feeling of warmth, friendliness and good cheer, I do it. Covid has been tough and things are different this winter. But someday, it will be over and we can all search and take in some Gemutlichkeit whether it is in our home, a ski area, or even out in the woods on a pair of showshoes- with some cheese and wine in the back of the Jeep. Thanks for reading and have a great New Years.

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Peeling Back the Onion

I had the rare treat of eating my cereal last week watching the waves crash up on the sea wall. I was able to view the steady stream of fishing boats headed out for a day on the water with the exception of the days with a small craft advisory and rough seas. Life slows down a little bit when you are at the “shore” ( aka the beach in points south). I am not typically a shore/beach person but despite all the travels that we make, the annual visit to the Jersey Shore for over 30 years, is always appreciated by Janet and me. We live in the empty nest now and the time spent in Avalon and Ocean City brings back wonderful memories of our family together when our son Jack was a boy.

Although the pace is rather docile for me at the shore, I do appreciate some of the things I see from the seat of my bicycle when riding along the roads of Avalon. The meticulous landscaping of the homes in Avalon is really admirable. It is interesting to see the pristine condition of the homes there and also fun things like the flags of various colleges and universities proudly displayed indicating where the kids attend or the alumni status of the owners. Post Labor Day is a little slower than high season but you still see people clamoring for sticky buns at Kohlers, coffee at the Avalon Coffee Co., and when venturing north to Ocean City, the always delectable Johnson’s Popcorn and Manco and Manco Pizza. Perhaps my favorite is the hot donuts prepared each morning at the end of the boardwalk by Brown’s, a historic breakfast joint. All of this was introduced to me by my wife Janet, as she spent her childhood at the Jersey Shore. Her aunt and uncle have a place there and Janet and her cousins spent summers there growing up, and worked there all through high school and college. Jan has the Jersey Shore in her blood and no matter where we travel through the course of the year, she always looks forward to our time there. I have a feeling that as the years go by, we will spend more and more time in Avalon. Happy wife- happy life.

One thing that was different this year was that Janet and I are on our own now. The car conversations on the way down are different but we truly have the chance to connect. Although the Pandemic has me home and spending more time with Janet, the relaxed pace of a pending vacation , especially a road trip, is well worth the time spent driving. I am used to packing it in on a trip. Ski trips are my thing and the more runs I can make, the better I like it. Gas pedal to the floor and trying to get all we can with a lot of excursions. But the shore trip is different. Slower pace, long conversations on the beach, walks,riding bicycles together, and great books to read while continuing to catch up and discuss things. An interesting point in time on the trip this year was when we visited Via Mare, a classic Italian “go to ” restaurant. The food is always consistently good and the atmosphere is such where you could see Tony Soprano and Paulie eating in the corner listening to classic Italian tunes played on the restaurant Pandora system. I was explaining to Janet about Al Martino and several other Italian/American singers who we heard, when there was a lull in the conversation. I had talked myself out and in that moment of silence, I looked at Janet and appreciated her just like my times at breakfast appreciating the beauty and majesty of the ocean. I didn’t have to entertain her, I just relaxed and enjoyed her, reminiscing on the 32 years spent together as man and wife. The shore will do that to you. It slows the pace and the things that really matter overcome the daily grind and ” busyness” of everyday life. To me, life at the shore is like an onion. You slowly peel back the layers of the complexity of daily living at home, the politics, the Pandemic, the rush rush of daily living, and eventually come to the good part of the onion. What really matters.

I have learned to appreciate the shore. I learned that appreciation through Janet, and her love for the place is infectious. But more importantly, I have learned that life is short and although we are empty nesters now, we have a lot of life to enjoy and do it together. My type “A ” personality is mellowing a bit as I peel back the onion. I am hoping to keep some of that perspective and bring it back home. Thanks for reading.

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Euro-Ski

So the other day, someone asked me what was the most interesting ski lesson that I have ever taught. I thought about it for a while and said, ” Well, aside from the time I taught a blind nun with a colostomy, or a blind Hell’s Angel from Chicago, I guess it was the Euros in Kuhtai in the Austrian Tyrol.” I was there with Mark Singleton and Kenny Griffin representing Western Pa. in an event that the Austrian government called ” Ski Happyning.” We were selected by PSIA( Professional Ski Instructors of America) to represent our region along with a group from all over the U.S. One week of touring and one week actually placed with a ski school in an area in Austria. We were selected to go to Kuhtai, a little hamlet high up in the Austrian Alps. The ski school director picked us up and drove like a mad man through the night up these twisty mountain roads that led to the ski area. There he placed us in the hotel for the night and told us he would see us in the morning to shadow his instructors and their lessons for the week. You see, in Austria, tourists come to ski for the week and part of the package is a mandatory session each day with the ski school. It is tradition as well as something that the patrons of the resort look forward to each year when they take their winter vacations.

Late that night, the road was covered with an avalanche and the instructors who lived in the town below were unable to get to Kuhtai to teach their lessons. So the three amigos from Pennsylvania went from being the guests to the employees in a real hurry. The ski school director came to us and explained the situation and said, ” Do the best that you can, but you guys are being put to work.” He was a bit of an iron ass anyhow so it was not surprising that he was discouraged that a trio of apple cheeked American yahoos would be teaching his clients.

After some of the local instructors took the beginners, we were given our groups and off I went with a group of Austrian ladies who were none too pleased to be with the American. They wanted their usual handsome Austrian blonde ski god. I did the best that I could seeing that I spoke little German and mostly had to communicate with physical instructions on what I wanted to accomplish. I showed them the PSIA certified technique of a wider stance and they were having none of that. They shook their heads “no” and said for me to go ahead of them and guide them down the slope. As I looked back, they had their feet glued together in standard, Arlberg, counter rotated, form at the time. They saw no reason to try a more athletic approach to stance which would enhance their turning and balance on the hill. It was quite a challenge to try to show them the wisdom of separating their feet but again, no way they were buying it. At the end of the day, they were all smiles because I had basically guided them all day which was a minor miracle in itself seeing that I had never skied the area and relied on a map and their instructions as to our direction. They bought me a beer at the end of the day and we had a few laughs in the bar, not understanding any of the conversation. I know that most Europeans speak English from my prior experience, but they held that from me with giggles and glances.

Regrouping with Kenny and Mark at the end of the day, we all had similar experiences and to have a challenge like that with a language barrier was almost as daunting as my experience teaching visually impaired individuals.

Taking us back down the mountain road at the end of the week, the ski school director thanked us in his limited English and as we left his van, he handed me their ski school banner which you see above. It hangs on my baker’s rack in the basement as a reminder of a wonderful time in Austria and a most challenging ski lesson.

Kind of reminds me that I need to get back to Europe to ski again. It has been a long time and the atmosphere and the history of the sport over there is well worth the effort. Think snow and thanks for reading.

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You Are!

I am not a Penn Stater. But my wife is. An avid one at that, and so is her mom, her uncle and aunt and her cousin. They all bleed Blue and White. They all shout…..” We are!!” For almost the last 30 years, I have been witness to a phenomena that is reserved for those who have been through the State College experience and have gone through leaps and bounds in their love for their school and their PSU friends. No group could ever be as close as my wife and her PSU pals.

Every fall, we make the trek to Happy Valley to take in a football game and get together with Jan’s whole clan. The fact of the matter is that we get together with them frequently. Ski trips, football games, the beach, weddings, bar mitzvahs, graduations, all are attended by this really close knit group of Nittany Lions.

Personally, I get the bonus of riding mountain bikes in Rothrock State Forest Challenging to say the least but equally as scenic riding along the ridges of Tussey Mountain with my friend Mike Smith- the spouse of my wife’s good friend who was a cheerleader for the Lions. I see the traditions of ice cream at the Creamery, a box of Rocks at the Skellar, hamburger a la Corner, and many others that have been introduced to me by Janet and her friends.

The ladies are particularly close and a lot goes into planning the trips, the food and drinks at the tailgates at the Smith’s motor home. How Judy(the cheerleader) manages to drive that behemoth through traffic, set up the tents, the food, the drinks, and welcome friends and strangers alike with her husband Mike, is really remarkable. For almost 30 years this crowd has invaded the Ritchey home as they graciously allow us to crowd in and crash for the weekend. Mark and Kathy are an amazing couple whose generosity over the years is inspirational. Kathy was Janet’s “roomie” and they are the best of friends. Dunz, Copes, Fru,the O’Donnells, the Readings, the incredible food prepared by Diane Barrett and her husband Billy. These guys all blow your mind with their love and passion for each other.

But the spirit of the Penn State Experience was truly on display this weekend when a record breaking attendance was set in Beaver Stadium for the game against Michigan. If you have ever experienced a “white out” it is a most intimidating sight for the opposing team but the zeal of 110,000+ people chanting “we are” stirs the collective soul of everyone who calls himself or herself a Nittany Lion.

However, if you really want to understand the soul of the Penn State experience, it really lies in the friendships that are created over the years. Penn State people love their school but more often than not, their fondest relationships and memories are with their friends from their days in Happy Valley. Janet’s best friends are her Penn State friends and they make an effort to get together, email,talk on the phone and plan the next get together. My wife recently lost her brother and the last crowd in the corner at our house was the PSU crowd. Gathering around Janet and her mom, crying, laughing, sharing feelings and hurts, and collectively wrapping their paws around two of their brood who were sad and hurting. This is the soul of the group. They love each other in the good times and in the bad times. They are there for each other through thick and thin and often it is no easy task seeing that the group is spread all across the country.

As I sat among Michigan fans this past weekend( the way the tickets worked out), the people around me remarked what a great experience they were having in Happy Valley. They said, there is nothing like the Big Ten experience and I am sure that friendships like these can happen at most schools who create that kind of atmosphere. I had a quite different experience going to a Division 3 private college but I have learned a lot watching the Penn State crew over all the years. They have become my friends as well and have embraced me like one of their own. Their paws have comforted my wife and me in hard times and welcomed us in all the good times when we get together. They are generous,kind, attentive, and would do anything for you. When I looked out on that massive crowd this past weekend, I thought about the cheer “we are!” It vibrated through the stadium and echoed in the mountains around Happy Valley. It was broadcast nationally on television and as I took it all in,I can surely say….., without a doubt…….. ” Yes- you are!!!” Thanks for reading.

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Almost Heaven

Why is it that it always rains sideways when I go mountain biking in West Virginia? I remember the NORBA races back in the day at Snowshoe when it poured biblically the night before the races and the course was a peanut butter mess with extremely high humidity. I suffered like a dog. The years that we all went down to Slatyfork for the Fat Tire Festival, we could hear the torrential rains swelling the creeks outside of the Jerico Bed and Breakfast http://www.jericobb.com in Marlinton and woke up to flash flood warnings. But we rode. This year we went to a great event called Dirt Fest run by Dirt Rag Magazine http://www.dirtragmag.com in Big Bear, West Virginia and again, it rained cats and dogs on the Friday that we arrived. It was like “Almost Heaven” was saying to me,” Pat- you have to bring your “A” game down here and we are not going to EVER give you a gimme.” Even though we had brilliant sunshine on Saturday and Sunday, the damage had been done and the slime on the rocks, boulders, and roots which define West Virginia riding, made Saturday morning the usual challenge. There are people like Tom Florcik http://www.trailflobikes.com and Sue Haywood who make it look easy and send it over the big drops. But I tend to be more cautious because as I always like to say, ” I ride to ride another day.”

So why do I keep beating my head against the wall and venturing into a most challenging environment? I do it for the beauty of West Virginia and the people who make the event so much fun. Dirt Rag Magazine has been around for over 25 years and was the brain child of Maurice and Elaine Tierney. I am happy to say that I have known MO a long time and have had many enjoyable riding days with him along with cohorts like Karl Rosengarth and Jeff Wuerthele. Dirt Rag arranged all the logistics with Big Bear which is a formidable task along with arranging a whole myriad of suppliers in the bike industry to attend with demo equipment. Along with great food by Doan’s Bones Bar b Que http://www.doansbones.com and the fabulous pizza supplied by Liz Klevens, the event was lacking for nothing. The movies and the beer supplied by Green Flash http://www.greenflashbrew.com and Oskar Blues http://www.oskarblues.com did not disappoint and the whole weekend went off without a hitch. No one seemed to mind the muddy but steadily improving conditions. But what really brings us back year after year? The People!! The mountain bike community is a friendly lot of “crunchy”, ” earthy” people who love the outdoors and can really ride the challenging conditions. It is not often that you see a group of ladies like Val from Asheville, NC, Chrissy from the Canaan Valley and Stephanie from the burg, pound fearlessly over muddy, rocky obstacles with smiles on their faces and laughter all around. Mountain bikers know how to have fun and at the end of the day, know how to kick back and enjoy the fading sunlight and the roaring fire complete with stories about the adventures of the day sipping a cold IPA. I love my crew and also love to gather with the “tribe” at events like Dirt Fest. The Chetlins, the Girones, and Sy were missing but they were in Bend riding. So, they had an excuse. Our local crew makes a contribution to the scene with characters like the Shark, Bob Bannon and John O’Toole- veterans of the sport, Johnny Mac and Bob Anderson- really skilled riders, Pete Hilton, Mike Connors and his son Riley-fun, good riders, and Angelo Ross- the originator of http://www.naturalcause.org . John Casuccio, Joe D’Oro, Michele with an “L”, Michelle with two “Ls”, all skilled MTB folks, and of course Jeff Balicki who got MVP for the weekend riding the heinous rocks and roots just out of knee replacement surgery three months ago. If you ever saw passion for a sport, look no further than this affable barrister from Pittsburgh. He worked hard to get back on the trail and will be ready for ski season for sure. It’s the people…..people!!!! That is why we ride. Sure it is challenging, it is hard, it rains like a cow peeing on a flat rock, but the people of Dirt Rag and the folks of the eastern mountain bike community make it fun with the camping stories, the crackling fires, and the beers. Barry and the guys from Dirty Harry’s make sure all of us ride in style and repair the damage after weekends like this. The local shop is part of the community and we should all support them.

So if you ride mountain bikes, find events like Dirt Fest and support the cause. You will not only have a lot of fun no matter what the weather does, but you will make friends for a lifetime sharing the passion of riding and the truly spectacular trails. Thanks for reading.