Tales of the Carrabassett -
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2008.10.10 -
Youth Knows No Bounds –
A fuchsia-crimson maple leaf glows brightly at the bottom of the brook, resting,
stuck on the top of a rock, sucked into it and form-fitted to it’s surface by the
pressure of the flow.
The water level is higher now after a few good rains.
October is typically the season when the water level is lowest, but there are often
some good rains in the fall and through November.
I observe: it seems to me that, at a certain depth, temperature and current, an algae
appears to build-up and grows at certain points in the brook, while at a different
depth and temperature and current – it does not.
All it takes is a slight increase in current, like after the rain or certainly after a series
of storms, and the bottom of the brook is cleaned, the rocks and sand are polished,
the signs of a healthy water-way.
There’s an elite, athletic training academy up here at Sugarloaf, the Carrabassett
Valley Academy, a private high-school, training the likes of Seth Wescott, for
example, who won the gold in Snowboardcross in 2005.
While arriving on this trip, I stopped-bye the town-office to drop off some
documents, and, by coincidence, I caught a group of kids playing ultimate Frisbee in
the park. The scene really touched me and took me back …
It was an incredible scene of co-ed Frisbee, where all the players were in great
shape, looking like a cast of Greek gods and goddesses in their teens, set against
the backdrop of peak autumn foliage, essentially in the wilderness, beautiful,
picturesque, powerful, inspiring.
It was 5:00PM, 45 to 50 degrees out, and several of the more competitive boys
were running around like Viking Norsemen with their shirts off, wearing bandannas
and sporting muscles, generating heat. Indian Braves.
They were free and fearless, confident and aggressive. No concern for
temperature, no curfews; no concern for injury or catching a cold, no where to go
and nothing to do, but to have fun, to run and to play. No pot smoke, no beers, no
chew, no sex (at least not during the game) – just clean, healthy, focused, competitive
spirit.
I remember days like that, when I was growing into my body and developing muscles
and athletic timing for the first time, like I could walk on air. To run freely is a gift from
God.
I still have that soul today in everything I do, although life has started to slow me
down, both mind and body disintegrating over time, atrophy, from the effects of
constant gravity and friction.
We take all that mobility, all that rhythm, balance and control, that grace and
dexterity for granted as we grow older, until ultimately we might lose memory if it
altogether.
I got a feel for how happy and healthy and strong those kids are up here, like wild
horses, in this tough, Alpine paradise – far away from their parents and the familiar
comforts and restrictions of home, and for a few brief moments I imagined the
prospects of sending a child of my own to the CVA someday.
Although, of course, where something is gained, something is lost; it’s really a
school for competitive skiers. They may not churn-out a lot of mathematicians,
lawyers, engineers and doctors, but then again, I guess the academy is growing and
rising in the ranks of private schools.
They have a multi-million dollar campus, and I guess they place a significant
percentage of graduates into good schools.
Youth Knows No Bounds –
A fuchsia-crimson maple leaf glows brightly at the bottom of the brook, resting,
stuck on the top of a rock, sucked into it and form-fitted to it’s surface by the
pressure of the flow.
The water level is higher now after a few good rains.
October is typically the season when the water level is lowest, but there are often
some good rains in the fall and through November.
I observe: it seems to me that, at a certain depth, temperature and current, an algae
appears to build-up and grows at certain points in the brook, while at a different
depth and temperature and current – it does not.
All it takes is a slight increase in current, like after the rain or certainly after a series
of storms, and the bottom of the brook is cleaned, the rocks and sand are polished,
the signs of a healthy water-way.
There’s an elite, athletic training academy up here at Sugarloaf, the Carrabassett
Valley Academy, a private high-school, training the likes of Seth Wescott, for
example, who won the gold in Snowboardcross in 2005.
While arriving on this trip, I stopped-bye the town-office to drop off some
documents, and, by coincidence, I caught a group of kids playing ultimate Frisbee in
the park. The scene really touched me and took me back …
It was an incredible scene of co-ed Frisbee, where all the players were in great
shape, looking like a cast of Greek gods and goddesses in their teens, set against
the backdrop of peak autumn foliage, essentially in the wilderness, beautiful,
picturesque, powerful, inspiring.
It was 5:00PM, 45 to 50 degrees out, and several of the more competitive boys
were running around like Viking Norsemen with their shirts off, wearing bandannas
and sporting muscles, generating heat. Indian Braves.
They were free and fearless, confident and aggressive. No concern for
temperature, no curfews; no concern for injury or catching a cold, no where to go
and nothing to do, but to have fun, to run and to play. No pot smoke, no beers, no
chew, no sex (at least not during the game) – just clean, healthy, focused, competitive
spirit.
I remember days like that, when I was growing into my body and developing muscles
and athletic timing for the first time, like I could walk on air. To run freely is a gift from
God.
I still have that soul today in everything I do, although life has started to slow me
down, both mind and body disintegrating over time, atrophy, from the effects of
constant gravity and friction.
We take all that mobility, all that rhythm, balance and control, that grace and
dexterity for granted as we grow older, until ultimately we might lose memory if it
altogether.
I got a feel for how happy and healthy and strong those kids are up here, like wild
horses, in this tough, Alpine paradise – far away from their parents and the familiar
comforts and restrictions of home, and for a few brief moments I imagined the
prospects of sending a child of my own to the CVA someday.
Although, of course, where something is gained, something is lost; it’s really a
school for competitive skiers. They may not churn-out a lot of mathematicians,
lawyers, engineers and doctors, but then again, I guess the academy is growing and
rising in the ranks of private schools.
They have a multi-million dollar campus, and I guess they place a significant
percentage of graduates into good schools.