Part IX – Chapter 4 – 2011

Small Waterfall

There are all kinds of little waterfalls like this in Waterton Lakes National Park. This particular one is at the beginning of the Lineham Creek Trail.

Charlie likes these smaller falls far more than the so-called spectacular horsetail waterfall at the end of the trail.

≈≈≈

He’d found out at the Visitor Center that there were no problems with bears or cougars on Lineham. So he was good to go.

But he was told once again that Upper Rowe, Goat, and Crypt were still out of the question. Still snowed in.

Snow, for him, meant the Goat Lake Trail was definitely out. Several places on that trail, even when dry, scared the bejesus out of him.

Below is one of those places. Imagine stepping onto snow or ice on that little six-inch space to the left of that shrub in the center, right beside the trail. If you slipped, you’d bounce once and then you’d be airborne all the way down to the creek hundreds of feet below.

Goat Lake Trail

And Crypt was also out. In the parking lot, after talking with the people in the Visitor Center, Charlie saw a warden doing paperwork in her truck. He asked her about Crypt, and she said that you couldn’t go any further than Burnt Rock Falls.

She said someone had tried to go higher the day before and had had a problem, but she wouldn’t elaborate. He found out later, however, that the problem was well beyond horrific. (I’ll be talking about this in Part IX, Chapter 8.)

This is Burnt Rock Falls in the summertime. It’s two-thirds of the way to the top, and you come to it just after you leave the forest and begin the rocky (and excruciatingly boring) part or the climb.

Burnt Falls

By the time Charlie got to the Lineham Creek Trail, there were black clouds coming in from the west, despite Environment Canada’s promise that it would be clear and dry.

As usual, The Weather Network was more accurate. A thirty percent chance of rain. And there it was.

The storm was actually quite beautiful. Black clouds, lightning, and wet vegetation. But he took no photos. The wind was picking up. And he didn’t want to get his camera and lens wet, despite their being weather sealed.

Even without the storm, though, he wouldn’t have taken any photos of the valley. The vista to the west was a way too cliché. At least, it was for him.

But he always had a camera with him just in case.

Lineham Creek Trail

(Charlie took the photos of Lineham in this post on earlier trips when it wasn’t raining.)

Below is the upness that Charlie complained about in the chapter you just read. The first half hour of Lineham is nothing but up, up, up, and then up some more. No fun at all. He just wanted to get this hike done and get it off his list.

Lineham Creek Trail
Nonstop ups at the start
Lineham Creek Trail
Still going up, but almost there

This, for Charlie, was the toughest section. And the least interesting. It’s pretty hard to look around and enjoy the scenery, as a seventy-year-old, when your thighs are begging you to go back to the car and stop all this nonsense.

He did enjoy the flatness of the trail along the west side of Mount Blakiston, though. But there wasn’t enough joy in that to offset the up, up, up, part.

However, he’d already decided this was the last year for Lineham.

And the same for Lakeshore and Crypt. Finito. Auf wiedersehen. Adieu.

And especially Goat. The Snowshoe Trail from the parking lot at Red Rock to the Goat Lake trailhead was excruciatingly flat. Absolute flatness for 4.6 kilometers each way. Each way, folks. That’s 9.2 kilometers of unbearable flatness. And possible ticks.

Goat Lake Trail

From the trailhead itself up to Goat Lake was only 4.8 return, but it had the most challenging and the most painful grade of all the hikes. A nineteen percent grade. Straight up. Straight down.

But it was actually the flatness of Snowshoe that put him off, and not the grade.

The Lineham Creek Valley rises from the trailhead beside the Akamina Parkway up to the west-northwest between Mount Blakiston and Mount Lineham.

The creek itself descends almost seventeen hundred feet from the four Lineham Lakes, which are nestled between Mount Hawkins, Mount Blakiston, and the Lineham Ridge.

And the highlight of this hike is supposed to be the spectacular horsetail waterfall at the end of the trail, which drops over three hundred feet from the Lineham lakes up in the hanging valley.

But Charlie enjoyed the little waterfalls on the lower half of the Lineham Creek trail far more. Maybe not as dramatic, in his mind, but far more beautiful.

And beautiful little waterfalls like this one are all over the park.

However, he usually had to push his way through grasses, and weeds, and shrubs, to get to them. And that, for Charlie, was a deal-breaker during tick season, which he believed ran right through to the beginning of September. 

He much preferred bears, and cougars, and wolves, to ticks, as you no doubt remember him saying over and over.

So, immediately after he finished his seventeen-trail project in 2011, he began hiking and photographing only in the fall and winter, which, of course, got rid of all those eight-leggèd creepies. 

And he liked that much better. Four legs good, he thought, eight legs bad. Really, really bad.

≈≈≈

Note

To enlarge a single photo in a post, click on it. To zoom in for details, click on it a second time.

Click on the first photo in groups of photos to start a slideshow. 

To see one of those group shots at full size, click on it, then scroll down to its bottom right where it says, View full size. You can click on it a second time, if you wish, to zoom in for details.

≈≈≈

(© 2018 Glenn Christianson. All rights reserved.)

Return to the Post Index

But before returning to the Post Index, why not scroll down and leave a comment or a question? And you might also want to check the boxes for “Notify me of follow-up comments by email” and “Notify me of new posts by email.”

Thanks for visiting my website.

Part IX – Chapter 1 – 2011

The Blakiston Trail

The growing season for this calypso orchid that BJ found in Waterton Park is usually mid-May to the first week or two of June, depending on when the snows melt. That means her orchid, on the 16th of June, was at the very end of its cycle. Another week, and it’d probably have already gone to seed.

≈≈≈

Charlie and BJ did their usual tour of Waterton when they first got to the park, and they found deer and Rocky Mountain bighorns everywhere.

They were grazing in the schoolyard between Vimy’s and the Community Center. And on people’s lawns. And even downtown.

The group below is just soaking up the sun.

Rocky Mountain Sheep

This is a close-up of a bighorn rack.

A Rocky Mountain Bighorn
This guy’s my gravatar.

Charlie told BJ that a rack like this can weight thirty pounds or more, more than the total of all the other bones in its body.

And if you take a three-hundred-pound buck that stands three feet at his shoulders, he thought to himself, and have him charge another buck at over forty miles an hour, it’s not much wonder you can hear the clash a mile away.

And it’s not much wonder that most bucks, like the one below, have chipped horns and a battle-scarred muzzle.

A Rocky Mountain Bighorn
It takes about eight years for those horns to curl around its face like that.

Once they got to Red Rock Canyon, Charlie commented, as usual, about the number of point-and-shooters on the bridge doing their best to immortalize the little waterfall and the red argillite rock.

And as usual, there were a number of people down along the creek enjoying the sun.

When Charlie and BJ were at Red Rock in June, there was still quite a bit of water going over that little waterfall. Two months later, in the photo below, the water flow was much reduced.

August 13

But the flow usually stayed about the same until well into the fall.

Red Rock Creek
October 21

On the hike into Blakiston Falls, the trail was mostly wet, and there was still some snow. But nothing like they were going to find on the Cameron Lake trail.

The color of the path below is from the red argillaceous rock in the area. You’ll notice that when the sun is on the path, it is more the color you see above.

And this is the calypso orchid that BJ discovered, which is also known as the Venus slipper or the fairy slipper. She was quite excited about her find when she found out later that they were rare and even classed as endangered in some places.

The Blakiston Trail

Blakiston Falls, itself, wasn’t all that interesting. Charlie’d seen it when it had a lot more water than in the shots below. Also, he’d said at the Red Rock bridge that he suspected there’d be no sun on the falls, and he was right. And being in the shade made the falls far less dramatic.

But at least it was hike number six off his list. Eleven to go.

When they got back to the Visitor Center, and Charlie asked about the Cameron Lake trail, they said that it was a way too early. No one had been able to hike it yet. Some had tried, but they couldn’t do it because the snow was still really deep and really rotten. Even with snowshoes, they’d just kept breaking through.

Outside in the parking lot, on their way to the car, BJ knew exactly why she was thinking about Jesus and his pearls-before-swine comment. And she knew exactly what Charlie was going to try next.

Hike number seven, of course, which would leave him with ten to go. But the elevation gain on some of the remaining hikes, up to a kilometer, and the distance, over twenty kilometers, and the scrambling, would make six of these first seven seem like a walk in the park, which, in fact, they were. And that was fine.

Charlie’s goal from the outset had been to hike all seventeen trails listed in the Hiking Map and Guide for the Waterton Lakes National Park the year he turned seventy, this year, and these seven were part of that package.

The first twenty minutes of the Cameron trail had footprints. But then they stopped.

In fairness to Charlie, however, he did tell BJ they could turn back at that point, if she wanted. And in fairness to BJ, she did agree to go with him as long as he did turn back if they started breaking through the surface of the snow.

They ended up breaking through a few times. Charlie broke through once with one leg almost up to his groin, and BJ broke through once with both legs all the way to her waist. And that led to a string of stories about other people’s encounter with hibernating bears when they broke through, until she suggested he save his stories for when they were back in the car. And safe.

With six feet of snow, for example, it would easily be possible to have a four-foot den with a two-foot-thick roof that was supported by broken coniferous boughs, and easily penetrable.

But despite the breakthroughs, BJ didn’t say anything. And they kept going all the way to the lookout by the grizzly bear habitat, which they almost missed because the snow was so deep.

If they had, Charlie thought, they would have ended up in the United States without passports, and maybe even have been taken to Gitmo for waterboarding. And other bad stuff. Or not.

The Footprints Have Stopped
You can see Charlie’s footprints and where he kicked the snow off the handrail.

At that point, they were looking south toward Montana’s Mount Custer, which is on the right behind the trees, and they were probably almost at the border, which runs through the lake just before the end.

So they had to turn around. Hikers are not allowed to enter the grizzly bear habitat. And besides, BJ’s ankle was getting sore.

By four thirty p.m. they were back at the Visitor Center, and Charlie proclaimed to one and all their first-of-the-year success on Cameron.

And after much ado about nothing, in the greater scheme of things, they were off to the Big Scoop to celebrate.

≈≈≈

Note

To enlarge a single photo in a post, click on it. To zoom in for details, click on it a second time.

Click on the first photo in groups of photos to start a slideshow. 

To see one of those group shots at full size, click on it, then scroll down to its bottom right where it says, View full size. You can click on it a second time, if you wish, to zoom in for details.

≈≈≈

(© 2018 Glenn Christianson. All rights reserved.)

Return to the Post Index

But before returning to the Post Index, why not scroll down and leave a comment or a question? And you might also want to check the boxes for “Notify me of follow-up comments by email” and “Notify me of new posts by email.”

Thanks for visiting my website.

Part VI – Chapter 13 – 2010

The 49th Parallel

In the featured photo above, we’re looking east along the 49th parallel. One step to the left is Canada. One to the right is the United States.

That cut in the trees across the lake, called The Slash, is just over six meters wide and runs for 3,500 kilometers.

≈≈≈

On Monday, Charlie’s shoulder was still a mess. That little trip into Lower Bertha on Saturday hadn’t helped a bit.

This was his second hike along the Lakeshore Trail, and this was his last practice run on it.

Next year, when he’d turn seventy, it’d be showtime for all seventeen hikes listed in the Hiking Map and Guide for the Waterton Lakes National Park.

I’ve come a long way, he thought, considering that I’d never really hiked until last year.

Last year had to be gentle, this year can be a tad more challenging, and then next year will be my biggy. The big 7-0.

And I’m definitely going to hike all of them alone, goldarnit. Unfortunately, that alone was becoming a problem.

But despite the little alone glitch, he thought, I just keep getting more and more excited with each new practice run. Apprehensive maybe, but excited. Very excited.

However, he often remembered the morning out on the patio last year when he told BJ about his plan. She hadn’t been quite as enthusiastic.

You’re out of your mind, Charlie. No one ever hikes alone. Not ever.

He’d told BJ all about the hikes, hoping that would help. There are seventeen of them, he’d said, and they range in distance from 0.6 to 21 kilometers. The hike with the most elevation gain is the Akamina Ridge at 975 meters, almost a kilometer. Straight up in places.

BJ was listening, but playing with her left earlobe. That was not a good sign.

The Akamina Ridge Trail, he continued, is 18.3 kilometers. The Lineham Ridge is similar at 17.2 with an elevation gain of 950 meters. And both ridges involve scrambling.

I’ve never scrambled before, BJ. And I still don’t know what it involves. It does sound a bit scary, I’ll admit, but if I can’t do it, or if it looks the least bit dangerous, I’ll just turn back.

Right, BJ thought. She couldn’t imagine him ever turning back from anything he’d set his mind to. She was still fiddling with her earlobe.

And they would come back to that particular discussion about his project a number of times, especially the alone part.

Anyhow, because of his shoulder, today’s practice run down to Goat Haunt had to be an easy, ultralight, 15.3 kilometer walk with just his bear spray, a fanny pack with his journal and a pen, and one pole in his right hand.

He bought his ticket for the boat ride back at the Waterton Lakes Cruise office. He also left his car in their parking lot. And the walk from there down to the Bertha Lake parking lot was really encouraging. Hardly any pain.

And just up from the Bertha parking lot, he found what he took to be another good sign, his secret patch of mountain lady’s-slippers still in full bloom.

And they’re even more beautiful than usual, he thought.

Despite his auspicious beginning, however, he was fully aware he was risking serious injury to his AC if he banged it up, though he remembered the trail as being mostly flat.

But his memory failed him. The trail was far from flat.

He also knew his favorite part of the hike was going to be the 49th parallel. His ritualistic high-point piss would not be on a high point today, but it would be very, very special.

No high-point piss could ever match pissing on the 49th parallel. Lots of high points, but only one 49th. Two countries at once. Just swing it back and forth across the border.

Then he thought of the little tailor whose belt said, “Seven at One Blow,” and he chuckled.

And when he got to the border, there was no one else around, so he was free to straddle it and hose it down in peace.

A sign just off the trail said it was only 7.2 kilometers to the Ranger Station where he’d get his passport stamped, “Port of Goat Haunt, MT, Glacier National Park,” and beside the official stamp a second one, a depiction of a big, burly goat.

The rest of the trail from the 49th down to the Ranger Station was mostly flat and quite picturesque.

Actually, Charlie had come to really dislike the Lakeshore Trail and the Crypt Lake Trail, though, because both hikes depended on catching a friggin boat back to the townsite.

But I’ll leave that particular tirade for the novel.

He noted in his journal that he got to the US Customs at 1:58. Was processed by 2:13. And the boat back would leave at 2:25. He saw having only twelve minutes to spare as cutting it a way too fine.

All that pressure because of the frigging boat. And the same with Crypt. Another friggin boat.

The International
The International is the 2:25 ride back to the townsite. Note the metal barge through the slats. [To see the barge more clearly, click on the picture, scroll down, click “View full size, and then click on the photo to zoom in.]
Charlie was really curious about the metal barge right next to the dock. In his twelve-minutes-to-spare, he asked one of the officers about it, but she said none of them knew anything, and they’d been told not to ask questions.

The barge would just show up unannounced, she said, with a half-dozen men and horses, and then they’d quietly saddle up and ride out into the trees toward Glacier. They weren’t very talkative.

Her only guess was that maybe some people might hike down from Waterton and keep going straight, instead of hanging a left for the short walk into the Ranger Station, because they were trying to enter the US illegally. Although, she said, it’s probably about something entirely different. She just didn’t know.

By 2:25, a storm was obviously coming in from the west, but the trip north still looked sunny.

Looking north toward the Waterton townsite.
The metal barge is on the right next to the shore. The mystery barge.

It’s been a good day, Charlie decided. I’ve made the whole 15.3 kilometers down to Goat Haunt with no stress whatsoever on my AC. I made it in time to catch the boat back. And, of course, the highlight was my undisturbed, leisurely pause at the 49th.

I just wish I’d been able to find a rock I liked that was dead center on the border, or even a second-best by the hanging bridge.

This is the bridge is where he’d hoped to find a second-best.

Charlie’s declaration about it being a good day, however, was before the muscles on the insides of his thighs started to cramp as soon as he sat down for the boat ride back.

And before he remembered that BJ wouldn’t be home to help him check for ticks.

A Note:

I had to hike the Lakeshore Trail with Charlie, as well as all his other hikes. Otherwise I wouldn’t have known what he’d done. Or more importantly, how he felt about what he’d done.

He did have a couple close calls that could have gone either way. And the irony is that those close calls didn’t happen on the dramatic hikes: the Akamina Ridge, the Lineham Ridge, the Carthew-Alderson.

They happened on two of the trails that were supposed to be safe, that is until he tried to do some things he shouldn’t have.

I could never have imagined what Charlie felt when he thought he might be about to die. That’s why I had to be up there with him.

And maybe our being together up there helped me come a wee bit closer to writing what Hemingway describes as true sentences about true experiences.

Made-up things always sound made up. Don’t they?

≈≈≈

Note

To enlarge a single photo in a post, click on it. To zoom in for details, click on it a second time.

Click on the first photo in groups of photos to start a slideshow.

To see one of those group shots at full size, click on it, then scroll down to its bottom right where it says, View full size. You can click on it a second time, if you wish, to zoom in for details.

≈≈≈

(© 2018 Glenn Christianson. All rights reserved.)

Return to the Post Index

But before returning to the Post Index, why not scroll down and leave a comment or a question? And you might also want to check the boxes for “Notify me of follow-up comments by email” and “Notify me of new posts by email.”

Thanks for visiting my website.

Part IV – Chapter 5 – 2009

Typical Scenes on the Way to Waterton

Charlie spends as much time as he can out in Waterton Lakes National Park. He prefers photographing and hiking out there from mid-September until the snows melt in the spring.

There are no ticks during those months and very few tourists.

Here are some typical winter scenes he sees on his way out to the park.

And some scenes he sees as he turns onto Hwy. 5 and heads in toward the townsite.

Looking south across Emerald Bay.

The townsite itself.

Finally, it’s tourist and tick time in Waterton.

The townsite in summer seen from across the bay.

On the way into the townsite.

The drive out to the park from Lethbridge.

Actually, Charlie enjoys the drive out to the park so much that sometimes he doesn’t even make it all the way there.

He’s learned not to pass up a good photo op en route simply because he’s assuming the light in the park will be better.

≈≈≈

Note

Click on the first photo in groups of photos to start a slideshow.

To see one of those group shots at full size, click on it, then scroll down to its bottom right where it says, View full size. You can click on it a second time, if you wish, to zoom in for details.

≈≈≈

(© 2018 Glenn Christianson. All rights reserved.)

Return to the Post Index

But before returning to the Post Index, why not scroll down and leave a comment or a question? And you might also want to check the boxes for “Notify me of follow-up comments by email” and “Notify me of new posts by email.”

Thanks for visiting my website.

PART II – CHAPTER 5 – 2008

Cameron Creek

Charlie had decided he was going to begin working almost exclusively with HDR images. But at the moment, after Bonnie’s two phone calls, he just couldn’t face the rigors of HDRs, so he worked on some water images instead.

A couple weeks earlier, he’d spent much of the morning at Cameron Falls out in Waterton Lakes National Park.

He had lots of close-ups of various parts of the falls. Mostly, though, he’d worked with that little rock in the last three photos.

A bear had surprised him while he was photographing the falls by walking right past him about ten feet to his left. Fortunately, he hadn’t heard the bear coming, and because he was looking into his viewfinder, he hadn’t made eye contact with it.

Unfortunately, he had his camera set up to photograph the falls, so he was quite disappointed with his photos of the bear.

Charlie often wondered what might have happened if he had heard the bear coming and had turned and looked at it, given that eye contact is a sign of aggression.

The other place he enjoyed photographing water was among the rocks in Cameron Creek beside the McNeallys picnic spot on the Akamina Parkway.

But now it was Thursday morning, and he and BJ had to leave for Saskatoon.

Working with the Waterton photos had kept him occupied for most of the week and had given him periods of time when he didn’t think about Randy and Wayne at all.

With Randy’s service being tomorrow, however, and with Wayne’s being on Saturday, he was going to have to come to grips with the loss of the only two friends he’d ever had.

≈≈≈

Note

Click on the first photo in groups of photos to start a slideshow.

To see one of those group shots at full size, click on it, then scroll down to its bottom right where it says, View full size. You can click on it a second time, if you wish, to zoom in for details.

≈≈≈

(© 2018 Glenn Christianson. All rights reserved.)

Return to the Post Index

But before returning to the Post Index, why not scroll down and leave a comment or a question? And you might also want to check the boxes for “Notify me of follow-up comments by email” and “Notify me of new posts by email.”

Thanks for visiting my website.

Being Rained Out Is OK

The Dock Area in the Waterton Townsite

Some people might enjoy photographing in the rain. But I’m not one of them.

I enjoy looking at the little splashes the rain makes on the water, but I don’t want any of those little splashes on my lens or camera.

Or me.

≈≈≈

I only got a few shots last Tuesday because of the rain. This is one of the few I like.

A mushroom, or something, in bison poop
I’m going to show discretion and not add a comment.

It rained ninety percent of the time, and I have a thing about getting rain on my glasses and on my camera equipment. I know it’s easy to dry my glasses, and my camera system is impervious to rain. I know that. So it’s not a physical thing I’m talking about here.

But it’s not a psychological thing either, Kowalski.

Besides, when I do get rained out like I did last Tuesday, it doesn’t bother me in the least, even though I may have driven over three hundred kilometers.

With the sound system in the car turned off, as usual, I simply drift into that magical zone where my little friend is waiting for me, that zone where my conscious mind and my unconscious mind overlap. I’ve talked about that little kid in earlier posts. Right?

In fact, the notes that kid brings me are far, far more important to me than my photos, although I certainly do love it when I hit that sweet spot with my camera and totally nail a shot.

And, of course, I always have my iPod’s voice recorder primed and ready for those notes.

Here’s one of the notes, for example, that the kid brought me on Tuesday, which I’ll definitely be able to use in my novel.

Sometimes I think of Socrates who says he is the wisest man in all of Athens because he is the only man in all of Athens who knows he knows nothing.

And Stephen Hawking says the same thing in A Brief History of Time. Hawking says today’s best science is nothing more than today’s best guess. And any of those guesses might have to change as early as tomorrow morning.

So when people believe they know the answers to some of life’s important questions, I smile. Because I know Socrates is smiling, and I know Stephen Hawking is smiling.

But when people believe they know the answers to a lot of life’s important questions, I become somewhat concerned.

Those people don’t realize there are no answers to life’s big questions. Just bigger questions.

In fact, the wiser and more knowledgeable they think they are, the more the opposite is true.

And some of those people might be the very ones who strap on explosive devices and sneak into malls or train stations somehow thinking that proves they’re right.

That note is a perfect fit for Charlie, one of the main characters in my novel. He’s not too keen on people who believe they are wise and that they have most of the answers. He much prefers people who wonder, people who keep asking, What if? What if? What if?

Charlie’s big on philosophy and science, and philosophers and scientists see a world of difference between believing and knowing.

In addition, both philosophers and scientists believe we know very, very little. Lots of paradigms and hypotheses and theories, but very little knowledge.

So getting rained out on Tuesday segued into at least four plusses.

First, that little kid was able to find me and bring me that note, as well as others, from my unconscious.

Second, I didn’t have to dry my glasses or my camera.

Third, since I didn’t get out of the car and walk around in the grass, I didn’t have to worry about being tick-infested.

And fourth, I did get a couple photo out the window of the car, with the foot of my telephoto lens resting a piece of foam, which I think might be keepers once I learn more about processing them properly.

See the raindrops on the water? That’s the townsite on Upper Waterton Lake.

Or am I simply rationalizing when I say it’s OK to be rained out? Am I simply trying to justify my tendency toward laziness? In his dialogues, Socrates also refers to the Delphic maxim, “Know thyself.” Is it possible I used the excuse of a light rain to ride around in the car all day, comfy and warm, and do nothing?

Too heavy. That’s a way too heavy. I’ll save those questions for another day.

Right now, it’s time for a nap.

≈≈≈

Note

To enlarge a single photo in a post, click on it. To zoom in for details, click on it a second time.

Click on the first photo in groups of photos to start a slideshow.

To see one of those group shots at full size, click on it, then scroll down to its bottom right where it says, View full size. You can click on it a second time, if you wish, to zoom in for details.

≈≈≈

(© 2017 Glenn Christianson. All rights reserved.)

Return to the Post Index

But before returning to the Post Index, why not scroll down and leave a comment or a question? And you might also want to check the boxes for “Notify me of follow-up comments by email” and “Notify me of new posts by email.”

Thanks for visiting my website.

My Avatar and His Family

A Rocky Mountain Bighorn

That’s my avatar.

≈≈≈

Waterton Lakes National Park in the southwest corner of Alberta, Canada, has lots of bears, cougars, wolves, and mountain bighorns.

Male black bears that have gone rogue scare me the most when I’m out hiking, followed closely by cougars and ticks. I don’t know why I have such a thing about ticks, but I do.

However, I really love those bighorns. Hence, my avatar.

I was careful to point out on my Facebook account, though, when I talked about using the photo of my avatar as my cover photo: “This is not me. This is my avatar. I don’t want any confusion. But he and I do have a lot in common even if he does look a wee bit younger.”

≈≈≈

Note

Click on the first photo in groups of photos to start a slideshow.

To see one of those group shots at full size, click on it, then scroll down to its bottom right where it says, View full size. You can click on it a second time, if you wish, to zoom in for details.

≈≈≈

(© 2017 Glenn Christianson. All rights reserved.)

Return to the Post Index

But before returning to the Post Index, why not scroll down and leave a comment or a question? And you might also want to check the boxes for “Notify me of follow-up comments by email” and “Notify me of new posts by email.”

Thanks for visiting my website.