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My previous post very briefly describes the brutal ending of my life as a married man. It ended against my will in a fashion very much against my liking. But, as one friend said to me not long after I entered free fall, this is a reset button. You have the opportunity to push it, will you?

The above picture is the day that I decided to hit the reset button. I started that day in the San Rafael Swell with 15 people I barely knew having a great time just hanging out in the desert. Then I drove 300 plus miles to Kanarraville to watch one of the most spectacular events I will ever have the opportunity to see, an annular eclipse. And I did it with family and friends. It was an amazing day, and one of the first days since my marriage dissolved that I truly felt happy.

The most important thing that I have learned through all that I have been forced to endure is that your family and friends, your real friends, will be there for you. I have reconnected with family that I had lost touch with for years. I have found friends from my past to suddenly be there for me with a joke or shoulder to cry on. New friends to share my life with. And the friends that have always been there… yep, they’re still there being the rocks that form the foundation of my life. Thank you to all of you, near and far.

But even with my family and friends there for me, I am the only one in control of me. And I have to accept that. And own that. And that’s where I am beginning from now. This is the reset on my life, where do I go from here? Who am I? What do I want? I think I know, but I have to find out. And thats what I intend to start documenting here. If you care to follow and see where this new life takes me, I’m happy to hear from you and share my life with you. If you don’t… well fuck you. I don’t need you anyway.

This is the new me.

When I came home from my Krav Maga class the evening of February 13th, 2012 I found my wife, Tomi, sitting at the dining room table. I gave her a kiss and said, “Love” in our traditional greeting and headed to the bedroom to change out of my gym clothes. When she didn’t respond with “Love”, I stopped and asked if everything was OK. She shook her head and said, “No.” So I came to the table and asked what was wrong, she said this wasn’t working anymore. By “this” she meant the marriage. She proceeded to list out all the reasons that she couldn’t be with me anymore. Some were legitimate issues, some seemed like stretches, but none of them, none of them were reasons to end a marriage. Things to work on, yes, but bailing on a life commitment, no.

Abbreviating this tale significantly, she had already rented an apartment the prior Thursday on the day I left for a trip and was moved out of the house we had shared for five and a half years on the 16th of February. It was quick and brutal. The night she told me she was done, she showed some level of compassion. There were tears, some semblance of regret. But starting the next morning it was pure venom. Saying such things as the last eight years were a waste of her time, that every minute that she was with me was killing her; that she hated me and everything we had ever shared. When she left, she took nothing sentimental about the eight years we spent together. Just her stuff, that’s it. She cut and ran. We agreed to one counseling session on the 27th, which she attended but wasn’t really there. She did it just to placate me. While there, she continued with the venom. Just spewing the most hateful things I’d ever heard come out of her mouth. She did reveal one thing of interest, though; that she felt I needed too much validation from her. We’ll get to that more later.

After the counseling session I was devastated, but I managed to convince her of a 90 day separation rather than divorce. But she didn’t want to talk to me regularly. I agreed and I spent the next month dwelling on what I had done wrong. What I could do to fix things. What I could do to get her back. I didn’t call, e-mail, text, I did write her two letters saying that I loved her, and was working to try and fix things to make her happy again. I imagined her trying to figure out what to do now that she was alone. She never had any really good friends, so I just figured she was going to work and coming home to watch TV. I missed her and wanted to go to her and say that things would be OK. To comfort my wife in what I perceived was a terribly difficult time for her.

So I pinned. I started seeing a counselor twice a week. I took Krav Maga as much as I could. I went to yoga. I started having anxiety attacks and physical twitches due to stress. I stopped sleeping and eating. I lost 17 pounds in less than a week. After a month I had lost almost 30. I talked to everyone I knew. I tried to gather information from other peoples experiences in a hope of applying it to mine. I was, in clinical terms, fucked up.

Then came March 23rd. I went to meet a friend at the Poplar Street downtown next to Redrock Brewery. Redrock was always Tomi and mine’s favorite restaurant and as I walked to Poplar Street, I had a massive anxiety attack. The kind that stops you in your tracks. I stood there for a moment saying, “No, not now. I need to get it together.” After a minute and some deep breaths I kept going. And as I passed the entrance to Redrock where 30 or so people were waiting I saw her there… with another guy. Holding hands. And I knew the other guy, his name was Chris Kareis and he was a grad student in the chemistry department on campus where Tomi worked. This wasn’t the first time I had seen them together, exactly a month before I had run into Tomi at a coffee shop and she was there with another girl and two guys, including Chris, from work. She refused to talk to me that day and I just wrote it off as a work outing. But this, well, it was different.

I caught my breath and approached them. And first she didn’t notice, but when she did, she quickly pulled her hand away from his and put it to her mouth in a shocked, “Ohhh!!!” then collected her cool again. I asked what was going on, she said “Same old.” To which I responded, “I don’t know what old is, anymore.” She clearly didn’t want to talk. So I looked at Chris, who was looking the other way, stuck my hand out and said, “Chris right?” To which he said, “Uh, yeah.” and took my hand (which, by the way was the limpest most pathetic handshake I’ve hand in a long time). I then replied with, “I’m Stephen, Tomi’s husband.” He looked at the ground, “Uhm, yeah, I know.”

I then gave Tomi a look of, ‘What the fuck is going on?!?’ She looked at me with a, ‘What?’. I asked if she would come and talk with me for a second, she refused. So I hugged her and said I loved her and walked into Poplar. At that exact moment, my friend sent me a text saying he was running late. So I sat in Poplar for a few minutes and then decided, no, I was not going to stand for this and stormed out. Fortunately they were still out waiting to be seated. I walked right up to Tomi and demanded that we talk. She said no, to which I said, “Either we do it here or in the parking lot.” She rolled her eyes and walked with me to the parking lot. Things get a bit hazy here as I was so heated. But basically I asked how long it had been going on, she said, “It just happened!” I called bull shit and asked how long, she replied, “I don’t know, a few weeks.” I said, “Well that’s interesting, you moved out a few weeks ago! So this was the reason, huh? How long have you been having sex with him?” She didn’t reply to that. I continued to push, she wouldn’t talk about it. I changed direction and said, “OK, how about us?” She blew up and said, “There is no ‘us’. There is just you and me! And I can do whatever I want!” I stopped, looked at her, and said, “I think you’re throwing away a good thing for a fling.” She rolled her eyes. I then hugged her, tried to kiss her, which she said, “I don’t want to kiss you, Stephen!” I let her go, then walked towards Chris.

At this point Tomi starts screaming, “No, Stephen!!! No! Don’t!!” Obviously she was afraid that I was going to hit him. And I almost did. I don’t think that piece of shit will ever really know how close he was to getting his ass completely kicked. My adrenaline was running so high, I have no idea what I would have done. No idea. But I managed to stop myself from hitting him and instead stuck my hand out again, which he took after a moment, and I said, “Chris, good luck, be safe, you’re an asshole and remember, she’s a married woman.” I then turned and left for Poplar.

Monday, the 26th I served Tomi with divorce papers on the grounds of an extra martial affair. The next day we signed them, with no dispute from her. When I walked her back to her car (which in retrospect, I really never should have let her take. Oh well) I stopped. Looked at her, she said with no emotion, “Thank you.” To which I replied, “I wish I could say the same.” I then choked back some tears and said, “You will always be my Tomi. You will always be my first true love.” I then hugged her for what seemed like forever. All she could muster was a limp arm to pat my back once or twice. When I let her go, she just looked at me and said, “Good bye.” and went to get into her car. And that was the last time I saw her. I don’t know how I got home.

And that was the end. Eight years, gone. Just like that. I’ve spent the past two months battling regret, remorse, anger, stress, anxiety, and all sorts of other problems. But I recently realized something that she said was very true. Even though most of her initial reasons for wanting to end the marriage were bull shit and simply projections of guilt to hide her affair and convince herself that what she was doing was right, there was one thing. In the past few years, I had made Tomi the center of my world. I did rely on her for most of my validation. And that’s something I’ve been struggling with recently. Who am I? What do I want? Well… that’s what I’m going to find out.

“Babylon 5 was the last of the Babylon stations. There would never be another. It changed the future and it changed us. It taught us that we have to create the future or others will do it for us. It showed us that we have to care for one another, because if we don’t, who will? And that true strength sometimes comes from the most unlikely places. Mostly, though, I think it gave us hope, that there can always be new beginnings. Even for people like us.”

-Susan Ivanova, Sleeping in Light

So you just got your new Pie Iron and you’re all ready to start making savory Ruebens and sautéed mushrooms. But wait! The Pie Iron looks a little strange, its silver not the dark, glossy black that you expected. Whats going on here?

Well, your Pie Iron hasn’t been seasoned yet. That silver coating is the paraffin wax put on at the factory to keep the cast iron from rusting in transit and storage. Before you start cooking with your Pie Iron you’ll need to burn that off and then “season” the cast iron. What is seasoning? Basically it’s applying an oily coating to the cast iron so that food doesn’t stick. As cast iron is used it will become seasoned by the oil from the food cooked in it, but it’s very important to season it properly before first use as well. So how does one season a Pie Iron properly? Follow the steps below to find out!

First things first, remove the Pie Iron from its packaging. For demonstration purposes I’ll be using a Double Pie Iron, mostly because I’ve been wanting to make a cheesesteak sandwich, but the process is the same with any cast iron Pie Iron.

Once you remove the packaging you’ll notice the film of wax over everything. There are two ways to remove it. Either take a scouring pad and hot water and scrub it off, or place it over heat and melt it off. Since I’m lazy, I’m going to melt it off. This requires taking the two halves of the Pie Iron and placing them concave side down over a heat source. I’ll be using my charcoal grill, but it can be propane or a fire pit as well. I highly recommend doing this outside, as the whole process is very smoky.

You’ll leave it over the heat for about 15 minutes, flipping it over half way through.

Once the wax has been melted off the Pie Iron will have a slightly dull grey color still. Wait for it to cool to the touch and then wash it in warm, soapy water. Scrubbing thoroughly with a scouring pad or bristle brush to get any of the remaining wax off. This should be the only time that the Pie Iron sees soap. The reason being that soap will remove the seasoning, which kind of defeats the purpose of going to all this trouble in the first place.

Once you are done washing the Pie Iron, you must immediately begin the seasoning process to prevent rust from developing. Dry the Pie Iron thoroughly and apply a thin coat of quality vegetable oil or solid shortening. I’ve heard of some people using bacon grease, which would work, but that’s an expensive prospect. I’m using Crisco because that’s what is in the kitchen cabinet.

With the coating applied, place the two halves of the Pie Iron back onto the grill concave side up. You’ll put it on for ten minutes, flipping it halfway through.

When the first coating has cooked in, the Pie Iron should start to take on a blackish hue. There might be a little bit of brown in it, but generally it should be blackening over the entire surface. Once the Pie Iron has cooled to the touch, apply another thin coating of shortening. You will need to do this a total of four times to get a good, solid coating.

After the fourth round of shortening has cooked into the Pie Iron, it should take on a glossy, deep black finish all over. This is what you want to see!

So now you’re set! The Pie Iron is all seasoned and ready for serious camp fire cooking! As long as it is used regularly, you’ll likely never have to reseason it again. If it sits for a few seasons unused, or starts to develop any rust, you may want to add a few new layers, but otherwise you’re good! Start cooking!

I’m excited to announce the launch of Iconic Camping!

Recounting our childhood camping trips my friend Jeff and I decided to start looking for some of the gear that we remember our families using back then. As we hunted around we got the idea to start our own camping gear company specializing in these classically styled goods. And so Iconic Camping was born!

Iconic Camping is a full Optimus stove, Rome cookware and Benchmark maps reseller. We carry all of these manufactures “classic” equipment such as Pie Irons and Svea stoves in stock and can generally ship same day or are available for local pickup. We can also fulfill special orders for any of these manufactures other products.

So head on over to Iconic Camping and pick up a Pie Iron, sign up for our newsletter, check out our blog and follow us on Twitter!

Day 1

Friday started off by meeting up with Joseph at about 10:30am and making the journey to Moab where we stopped for lunch at Pasta Jay’s. After topping off our tanks at the edge of town we continued on until we hit dirt off UT 211 at the beginning of the Cottonwood Canyon Road around three in the afternoon. Here we aired down and took one last look at pavement for the next few days. Always an enjoyable thing!

We blasted down the Cottonwood Canyon Road and the beginnings of the Beef Basin Loop as we worked our ways to the Beef Basin wash and our first campsite. Both my copilot Scott and I reflected that the Pathfinder was pure luxury on these rutted/washboard roads in comparison to the Samurai. I knew it would be so, but wow. Getting out of the car after a while on these roads didn’t feel like hitting solid ground after a bombing run over Berlin!

Anyway, the wash road was fine until we hit the first creek crossing. Here the heavy rains we’ve been having had made for an interesting crossing. All the tracks stopped here and there was no evidence of traffic on the other side. Well, since we were “gangsta expo” as Joseph noted, we didn’t view this as much of a hinderance. So I popped the Pathfinder in 4-low for the first time in anger and headed down the relatively steep, very soft sandy hill into the creek bed and up the other side with no issue. Joseph followed with the Ultimate KJ idling like a turbo diesel should and we headed off into the overgrown trail to find camp.

The trail had a few other sections that had been washed out a bit by the rains, but nothing too bad. It was fun to finally have the Pathfinder in 4-low and using it for what it was designed to do. We eventually made camp at about six or so and set about making ourselves comfortable. For Joseph this entailed setting up his slick ARB awning. For a rugged Australian this takes but 30 seconds. For Americans, two people and a bit longer.

After setting up camp we just relaxed, took in the scenery and enjoyed a campfire under the clear night sky.

Day 2

Morning broke bright and warm and we lounged in the sun for a bit before getting underway around 10.

We worked our way back out through the wash to the first creek crossing and I dipped into it like it was no big deal. Well I quickly found that the sandy hill was much softer than I had expected and the boulders at the bottom prevented me from first getting the downhill momentum I needed and second from backing up. This is one of those moments when you think about those parts you have sitting at home that could have made this a non-issue. Like the Limited Slip left uninstalled that would have aided greatly in getting back over the boulder…

After a few attempts to get out on my own, it was time to throw the recovery strap back to Joseph and the diesel beast of his. With a little tug and some tire spin the Pathfinder was free, moved the offending boulder out of the way and we were in business again.

We spent the rest of the morning exploring the Beef Basin Loop, some spurs off it and looking at ruins.

The second camp was planned to be at a location in the Butler Wash area that was a short hike to a spectacular overlook of the Needles District of Canyonlands. We spent several hours going up and down every spur road in the Ruin Park area looking for the right one to get us there. We could see the spot we wanted to be from the main road, but the only road that seemed to head to it was also the only one with a “Road Closed” sign. According to my BLM map of the area, that road skirts the edge of the Butler Wash WSA and I guess since the last time I was there in 2009 the BLM has decided that the road is now in the WSA. I was disappointed, but the camp we chose did have some nice ruins up in the cliff surrounding it.

We spent another pleasant night around the campfire and had a lively discussion regarding how “expo ready” our gear was. Personally, I think our hot dog sticks are just as good as any titanium and leather handled ones on the market today! ;)

Day 3

I awoke Sunday morning excited about getting to the “hard” part of our trip through Canyonlands via Bobby’s Hole and out Elephant Hill. So after tea and breakfast we broke camp and bid farewell to Ruin Park. Bobby’s Hole is a moderately steep hill made up of some ledges, boulders and loose dirt. Nothing too technical, but certainly entertaining to crawl down. I was throughly impressed with the Pathfinders gearing as it idled down with no issues.

From Bobby’s Hole we continued on to the Canyonlands boarder and into the always stunning Needles District. Along the way we stopped for some “expo ready” poser shots and to check out some petroglyphs.

After our stop at the petroglyphs we quickly came upon SOB Hill. Now SOB Hill has been in various states over the years. Way back in 1994 with my dad it was considered an optional obstacle on the Elephant Hill trail during the Easter Jeep Safari. Now being in a stock Samurai at the time my dad wanted to show off. But of course, had no issues getting over the ledges, boulders and making the very tight turn. The second time a few years ago the Park Service had filled in most of the hill and the only difficult part was tight turn. This time around the hill had returned to presenting a bit of a challenge with a climb up loose dirt and rocks to the sharp turn through the cut in the rocks. I had a few points where I again regretted no installing the LSD before I left, but nothing that couldn’t be over come with backing up and changing my line. Again, I was very happy with the Pathfinders stock gears and grateful for the OME suspension.

Joseph, demonstrating that true players only drive diesels, idled over the whole thing without an issue.

From this point we were on the Elephant Hill loop and with moseyed along over small ledges and creek crossings.

When we finally reached Elephant Hill I forgot, for some reason, how extreme the switchbacks are. Practically parallel in some spots. My mind always remembers the first time in my dads Samurai and how it wasn’t even an issue to make the turns. Now in a Pathfinder what had been a three point turn in the Samurai turned into a five or six pointer at some spots. Nothing hard, just a few more forwards and backs. The hill is a fairly steep climb heading up a few hundred feet over ledges and a bit of slick rock at the top. Since you need to keep your momentum up, it pays not to stop for photo ops I only have one picture of Joseph at the very top. But hey, what a way to close out the photos! The Ultimate KJ rumbling up the famous Elephant Hill:

And that was it. We dropped down the other side into the parking lot, aired up and headed back into Moab where we stopped at the Moab Brewery for the obligatory bread bowl of beer cheese soup (don’t ask Joseph about the service though). It was a great trip and a great way to break the Pathfinder in as my new expedtion/overlanding/camping vehicle. I can’t wait to get out again.

Photos courtesy of Stephen Nielson and Scott Curtis

This morning when I woke up I had at least two inches of snow on my lawn. This after two days of four plus inches in the morning. It always melts by mid day, but I’m relatively sick of snow at this point. Its April 10th for gods sake!

So I decided to offer up the sacrifice of a couple pounds of flesh to the Spring Gods:

Delicious, and hopefully spring will finally grace us with its presence!

Mr. Shepherd was never much for book reports in school (he was strictly a C+ guy) so I figured I’d write a review in his vein.

In God We Trust, All Others Pay Cash is about this old guy named Ralph who goes back to his hometown of Hohman, Indiana from New York. He stops at a bar to see his friend from school, Flick, and ends up spending the whole day talking about their school days during the Depression.

There are lots of stories about fights, blind dates, fishing and getting a Genuine Red Ryder BB gun with a special Red Ryder sight and a compass in the stock with a sundial for Christmas (fortunately, he did not shoot his eye out). Most of the stories are when he was in elementary school, but some are when he is older. Things that happened to him as a kid seemed to have a lot of affect on Hohman, Indiana and all of the Midwest. He must have been very important as a kid.

I think books like this are very exciting, and In God We Trust, All Others Pay Cash is a very exciting book. It has two hundred and sixty four pages, and I think anyone would enjoy reading In God We Trust, All Others Pay Cash.

 

Drat! Only one hundred and ninety-two words and I need two hundred! What more can I add? Umm… Umm… Wait? Is that Little Orphan Annie on the radio? Can’t miss that, I just got my decoder ring today! One ninety-two is good enough. After all, I’m a strictly C+ guy too.

(Next up: Revolution 1989 by Victor Sebestyen)

Just over one year and 4,147 pages (excluding appendices) I have finally finished reading Winston S. Churchills memoirs of the Second World War. All I have to say is insightful. Terribly insightful.
It is amazing that someone who was at the top of world affairs during one of the most tumultuous times in human history would sit down to publish such a detailed account of his thoughts during that time. An amazing account that painted the British perspective in such vivid colours.
The question now, what do I read next? Oh yeah, Jean Shepherds In God We Trust, All Others Pay Cash. I figured it was time for some lighter fair, even after all the splendid humour Churchill peppered throughout his books (no, I’m not kidding, the guy was hilarious).

Eric demonstrates the benefits of being a Rally fan:

Eric: Hotel fire. Blizzard. Ten car pileup blocking all lanes. Drove the rental Malibu like fucking Tommi Mäkinen on a winter rally stage and made the gate during boarding.

Epic.