When you are hanging (get it?) with Pa Ingalls, there is often a moment when you say to yourself, “This is it. I have to learn to say no to this guy.” You don’t mean it though, and you know it. He only wants what is best for you. It’s not his fault that he lives life in more vivid colors than most of us- it’s just how his mama made him.
I was in the area for a work trip, but I managed to catch up with the Barred Owl Plantation crew for a few hours this week. Sometimes a few hours is all it takes.
I attended a regional summit meeting at Santos with representation from the Jensen crew provided by Rollo, or Rolio, or something like that. He rode the trail on a borrowed bike in slip-on Vans, board shorts, and no helmet. Yes, he is about 40 years old. Is that a problem? It doesn’t matter, we could not drop him. He brought cigarettes too, although we weren’t out long enough for him to enjoy one. It was a serendipitous event for the three of us to converge on sacred ground for a couple hours.
The next day I stopped off for a quick ascent of “Dr. Lyons” an old grey mare of an oak tree on the Ingalls’ property. 75 feet of free-hanging line that twines above the surrounding treeline. I could see the lights of Reddick and Orange Park from up there. Other than a little Elvis-leg during the last 6 feet I felt comfortable in the tree saddle. Looking at the world from a slightly different point of view can have a refreshing impact on your mental and emotional well-being. After reclining in the nook grown just for me over a span of 500 years or so, I let all the work stress go and thought only of the slow spin back to Earth and how lucky I am to know such interesting and inspiring people, present company included.
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Rollo?(have I got a few stories with that guy!!)? water oaks?(pushing maybe 120 years old, but not 5-hungie)? Pa Ingalls?(“branch looks fine don’t you think?”)…
Take care for a little while, your luck bucket may have been emptied for the equivalent of any normal human’s year.
I thought I was being conservative in my estimate. I wanted to go with a thousand years.
So if the tree’s age was inflated by a factor of four something, can we infer that the height was closer to 18 feet? Or am I contributing to making waxing poetic on the internets more dangerous than climbing the tallest trees?…
it was good fun climbing dr. lyons with you my friend! you’re a natural at tree climbing. it must be all those years clinging to the rock face, long before you got hooked on the big ring. let’s do it again soon…
oh, and it’s a laurel oak, maybe 90 to 100 years old. we lounged at about 75 feet.
juancho’s biceps look pumped!
I did curls in the mirror before I came out.