Our western adventure

It has been a whirlwind these past couple of weeks, returning from vacation and starting the real business of winding down my job (and career). 

Mixed emotions have abounded but, with each passing day, I have begun to let go of the past and deal with the fact that, for all practical purposes, I am yesterday's news at the workplace. And that is fine. Things will carry on just fine without me. 

Although my last day of employment is December 1st, I am going to wrap things up next week. Being an "Irish goodbye" kind of guy, I am thankful there will not be a long one

More on all of this at a later date. For now, I'll tell you a little more about our recent vacation. 

Our first stop was Jackson Hole, Wyoming and Grand Teton National Park. Jackson Hole is not a city, but a region. Jackson Hole Airport is inside the national park, and we flew into it from Salt Lake City, where we flew from Nashville.

The city of Jackson is a great little western town, and we stayed at a nice but rustic hotel in walking distance of the town square. 

The Tetons are a majestic mountain range and throughout the park there are gorgeous views from various perspectives. 

We did a day on our own and a day with a guide. The day with the guide was great, in that he had keen insight into the best places to see wildlife. We saw elk, moose, bison, prong-horn and a grizzly bear. 

Before we left Grand Teton and headed to Yellowstone, we went on a leisurely morning float trip on the Snake River and saw 21 (that's right, I counted them) bald eagles. 

Yellowstone was just as fascinating as I remembered from being there back in the eighties. The mountains, hot springs, lava pools and geysers provide nothing less than sensory overload. Like Grand Teton, we did a day with a guide, which was extremely helpful. 

I might add that both the Grand Teton and Yellowstone guides were extremely sharp. Both had college degrees (wildlife science and biology, respectively) and seemed to love what they were doing. We benefitted greatly from their knowledge and expertise. 

From Yellowstone it was on to Cody Wyoming, home of the Buffalo Bill Center of the West, five museums inside one building that had more information about the American West than one person could possibly absorb. We arrived early in the afternoon, and our admission ticket was good for the next day. 

Because I tend to geek out at museums and read just about everything on the signage next to the exhibits, I had to return the next morning to finish. Wife said she did not feel the need to do so, she being more the "flyover" type when visiting a museum. 

After Cody we crossed into South Dakota where we visited the Mount Rushmore National Memorial, Custer State Park and Badlands National Park. 

We were only nominally affected by the government shutdown. Our last day in Yellowstone was the first day of the shutdown, and it seemed most park rangers and employees reported to work that day in hopes the shutdown would be brief. (Yeah, right.)

The impact was minimal at Mount Rushmore and Badlands. Since virtually everything we were seeing was outside, the impact was negligible. I am sure, however, with the shutdown dragging on, the effects will be more significant. (Gee, wouldn't it be nice if Congress would do its job?) 

It was a great trip. The pictures don't do it justice and I am not much of a photographer, but I am happy to share a few here. Full disclosure: our Grand Teton guide took the picture of the elk. 

End of an era

Wife and I have been on vacation out west for about ten days. We started by flying into Jackson Hole, Wyoming and spent a couple of days in Grand Teton National Park. 

From there it was to Yellowstone, then eventually into South Dakota and the Mount Rushmore National Memorial, Custer State Park and Badlands National Park. 

It was a great trip, and I will post more about it later. 

For now, I want to share the news I received about 48 hours before leaving: I will be retiring, effective December 1st. I had been moving in that direction for early next year, preparing mentally and financially. As it turned out, my employer helped me along, and it has worked out better than I could have expected. 

Wife told me when she was retired that she knew it was time, and I would know when it was time for me. I have known for a while. It's time. 

Still, there is a twinge of sadness as I think of leaving my co-workers, as well as angst as I think of days without the routine of work. 

I can hear the words of my dad, who would say, "A man needs a place to go."

My place to go has been my home office for well more than five years, but the work has provided rhythm, routine and purpose, all of which serve me well. 

But as I said, it's time, and a new chapter will soon begin. 

Tragic beyond words

Until his murder earlier this week, I had never heard of Charlie Kirk. You could have put me under a heat lamp, and I could not have told you who he was, or what he stood for. His name was not even familiar. 

Of course, now I know who he was and what he stood for. 

From what I have read and heard, it is clear he and I would not have agreed on much. He was an ally of the sitting president, for whom I have no respect, and a darling of the president's group of supporters commonly known as the MAGA crowd. 

But he was a husband. A father. A son. A friend. 

And he was gunned down in broad daylight. 

At the time he was shot and killed, he was exercising his First Amendment rights in a peaceable manner, no less (and no more) than I am doing as I type this. 

For all of that, I grieve his passing. 

I grieve the increasing loss of the ability to have civil disagreements. 

I grieve for a country in which more and more, resorting to violence becomes a way to express an opposing view. This is but one example. 

Mr. Kirk's political and philosophical leanings, no matter how they may have differed from my own, have no bearing whatsoever on how I, a fellow human being and, according to what my faith teaches me, a fellow image bearer of God, feel about what happened to him. 

It is, simply speaking, an unspeakable tragedy.