At 18, I landed my dream job as an apprentice framebuilder and loved every second of it.  Ok, so this next statement has the potential of sounding a bit like a spoiled rotten brat…so, here it is…I bought all my own tubesets, built all my own bikes and from time to time…got some really cool schwag.  The caveat here is that I absolutely, postively KNOW that I was lucky as hell to be doing what I was doing…and was happy to buy all my own stuff..and I never expected, or asked for a hand-out.  But keep reading…it all pans out.

In December of 1994, when I was 23, the frameshop I worked for fell into extreme financial difficulty and was closed.  So the five employees found ourselves looking for something else to do.  Personally, I could not fathom doing anything else outside of being in the cycling industry, so I eventually found myself managing the service department for a large bike shop in Boulder, Co.  There, I found new friends, new riding buddies (RIP Scott Connett…love you man) and found myself buying parts and frames as the new stuff came out etc, etc…

It was there that I met a very good friend, Mitch, who was a police officer with the Boulder P.D.  He’s a mountain biker, and a bike patrol officer, weather permitting of course.  He was the one who got me into law enforcement, after I finally quit the bike industry and went back to school.  I poured myself into my work as a peace officer, and supplemented that with six years in the Army National Guard.

Fast forward ten years.  I’ve just turned 38 and I’ve not been riding nearly at all in about seven years until this year, when I just fell in love with it all over again, but this time mountain biking.  So, after refitting my ageing Trek with a host of new components, I took to the trails with gusto…and have started to lose some of my gutso.  So when my birthday was approaching in early June, my wife Jennifer started inquiring as to what I would like for a present.  I stalled and stalled until I found a deal on a new bike frame.  I hesitated to show her at first, fearing she would just moan and have some comment about “don’t you want something nice?”  Well..it really was a great deal so I showed her anyway.  I was ecstatic when she agreed and we ordered it up…of course, in the color that she wanted, but I really like blue as well.

Four days later I had a box at the front door, and a couple of days after that another with some additional parts for the build.  I spent an afternoon building the bike up, tinkering with the position of the bars and making sure the saddle height was just the same as on my old bike.  Afterwards, I took a few pictures, posted them on my favorite mountain bike forum site, traded a few accolades and then…  Then, Jennifer was sitting on the couch after her day of work and I poked my head in from the garage and said “hey…come out here for a sec.”  She inquisitively came out asking what was “up”.  I put my arm around her and said “well…here’s the birthday bike”.  She looked, touched…spun the rear wheel..”butter smooth” was her comment.  It was then that I had a realization…and I voiced it to her.  No one had ever bought me anything bike related for my birthday, ever.  She gave me an enormous hug in contrast to her 104lbs physiqe and planted a kiss on me, then just smiled as if the purest of alturism had hit her all at once.

I think that this will be one of my favorite bikes I will ever have. (Hope I don’t crash it too bad!!!!!!)

The Hot Tomato, or HT as it is known to locals sits in an old, virtually run down building owned by the Fruita Masonic Lodge #120.  HT pays about $600 in rent every month for a space that has no sprinkler system, no real ventalation system and has a sagging ceiling and a floor that becomes less of a floor everytime you sweep it.  The business is run by two mountain bike nuts who, without much effort at all, incorporate the riding culture into their little slice of heaven.

So, it was with shock that I heard the other day from my girlfriend that HT was in serious trouble.  The “gentlemen” who own the building brought forth at the rental contract negotiations that they were going to more than double their rent.  Now, based on current trends in commericial rental real estate, $1300 doesn’t sound like much.  But, most people would expect that the space would have things like a fire suppresion system and restrooms that are up to ADA codes.  I think that others would expect that this kind of blindside would not come from a group, the freemasons, who have a reputation for promoting the successes of others as well as funding organizations and businesses that add to the prosperity and well being of their respective communities.  Not so much in this senario.

Apparently, the group of individuals who own the building, a handful of retired masons, had gone to the city council and inquired as to how much they “could get” for a business space of the HT’s size.  And, as HT’s lease contract is expired on June 30 of 2009, they went to the owners and stated theat the new terms of the contract would simply be a doubling of the rent…nothing else, no improvements, no nothing.

Obviously, we live in a free economy…but that is not the point here.  In a time when many businesses are failing, and getting funds for a new business are getting harder, this move just does not make sense.  The masons are in effect, shooting themselves in the foot, and they are going to take part of the town with it.  Main street Fruita is only about three blocks long, and there are already other empty store fronts along the row as it is.  So to kill off a thriving business that brings in business in a town that actually NEEDS tourists is not only outrageous, it’s down right stupid and reeks of simple financial greed.  If they get HT out, then they can get a higher paying business in.

Not so fast.  The masons will lose an already steady income and will most likely have to spend tens of thousands of dollars to bring the space up to code in order to rent it to someone else.  That is, IF they get someone else.  The space has the potential to sit for at least a few years empty and further deteriorating before the economy will pick back up.

I have always had respect for the mason’s and the work they do, but they’ve certainly lost a few notches in my book with this move.  I am terribley dis-heartened that such a prolific part of the community will be brushed away all for the love of money from these handful of individuals.  It is also rather disturbing that an alternative motive for this may be the the fact that there are some people in Fruita who simply would like to beat down anything that could be seen as liberal or progessive.

If you would like to read more about the Hot Tomato I reccomend checking out the story in Grand Junction’s newspaper, The Daily Sentinel or hit their website, www.hottomatocafe.com

Now before you ask, yeah…I’m glad that I am done and I am happy that I did it, and no, I am not particularly interested in doing it again.  But I would like to share something that many have experienced, and those about to join will experience.  You don’t really notice it while you are in…while you have a monthly obligation to see all these people once a month and you share your stories of the month and get some good training in as well.  Your not really present to it while your travelling to a different country once a year for two or three weeks.  You notice it on that last day…those last moments as the day winds down.

A friend of mine, Joe, came to me as we were getting towards the end of Sunday and said “You have to make a speech.  You have to say something…this is it.”  There was one other guy whose last drill with the unit was that day too…but no one had asked him to say anything.  Why?  The answer wasn’t completely transparent to me, I do know that my work was valued, and that people liked me and enjoyed my company as much as I enjoyed theirs, but it was just weird.  Many people had left the unit with no more than a “This is so and so’s last drill…thanks and good luck” at the weekend’s final formation on Sunday evening.

I gave my talk…a heartfelt thank you, words of gratitude and friendship and I even saw a few people smiling warmly in the group.  Hell, I even got a huge hug from a colonel for crying out loud.  But it wasn’t until I was leaving that I really got present to what it was.  I was part of something that was incredibly larger than myself, and I will miss it.  It is a feeling so much larger than just simple “comaradarie”, it is almost indescribable.

I spent six years of my life with these people, even if it was only one weekend a month/two weeks a year.  The sum is far greater than it’s pieces.  We spent long hours together, supported each other through ups and downs and thick and thin and if forms bonds that are stronger than any I had felt before.  I fear I may never feel those bonds with any other group of people again, which leaves me thankful for the fact that I had that.

My Grandfather was part of the 101st Airborne in WWII, and prior to my military service, I had heard stories of long nights under fire in England and Holland.  Horrible stories of his friends literally killed all around him while he forced his way forward into battle.  His assault on Omaha beach.  The only problem was, when he was alive (he died when I was 13) I didn’t get it.  I didn’t get it at all.  He had been part of something that was larger than himself, incredibly larger.

There are many people in this country who are “anti-military” or think that they are doing things “wrong”, yet they themselves refuse to engage themselves in something that is greater who they are.  I have seen them…”BABYKILLERS!!!”  they yell….or they have some bumpersticker stating a fabulously peaceful statement on their SUV.  Well, one reason I joined the military is I believe that people have a right not to be part of anything if they choose not to be.  For all those who either think the military is right or wrong, who denounce or promote the USA, who know they can choose and speak freely…..I did it for you.