Brewery-hopping, a hike, a book launch and a homecoming

A common thread from last weekend: A bunch of people connected by a common love of the outdoors going back many years.

Ever have one of those jam-packed weekends that left you trashed, but grateful?

Sunday afternoon I dragged myself to work after a non-stop weekend of, well, a little of everything that didn’t end until just before my shift started.

Friday evening, I had one last run with a fella named Donald who has been part of my run group since it started in November. Back then, he came in bigger than he’d like and slow. We had to stop every half-mile or so. He changed that in a hurry, and by now is running a 27:45 5K. I’ve never seen anyone make such a quick turnaround – he was running under a 30-minute 5K within two months.

The run group after a fun few miles on the trails a couple of months back. Donald is the guy second from the left.

Anyway, he’s moving to Oregon. It was going to be just the two of us running that evening, so we decided to go out with a bang by hitting the trails instead of the streets. It was a fitting way to send him off, seeing he’s about to head into trail nirvana soon.

That night, a friend of mine, Matt, was flying in from California on his annual trip to see family and friends. This time, he brought five of his Cali buddies with him.

Anywhere Matt goes, there’s a throng. Some people have that humble, fun charisma about them that draws people. That’s Matt. So I got to meet his buds and reconnect with his Oklahoma friends all in one night of pub-crawling.

Interesting aside: One of his California friends, Kelly, has read the book I just put out. It was fun listening to what she had to say about it. It’s rare I get face-to-face reader interactions on anything I write, not to mention from some who was, to that point, a complete stranger. Very cool stuff. Matt and his entourage would spend the next few days crisscrossing northeastern Oklahoma, Northwest Arkansas and southwest Missouri while the rest of us bade them well.

Saturday was going to be a big day. That night I was doing an “Outsider” book launch shindig at a downtown bar. Nothing fancy, just show up, hang out, eat, have a drink and gather with friends. I made it low-key because I’m not good at this party stuff.

So as I’m getting ready to head over to a friend’s house to do some fence repair that afternoon, I get this message:

“Meant to turn right at Walsenburg, got a bit lost.”

And he sends me these two photos.

Hmmm… this looks familiar.

Wait a minute. This is like a mile from my house. Dude…

So here’s the deal. Walsenburg is in southern Colorado. Bill is from Denver. Prairie Artisan Ales’ taproom is in downtown Tulsa.

You get the picture. The dude flew in that morning from Denver just to hang out and be at that night’s party.

Bill (left) and Mike on their 13er rampage a couple of weeks ago. (Bill Wood photo)

Man, that’s a friend. I did something similar for him back in 2012, driving to Colorado to hike with him as he climbed Mount of the Holy Cross, his final peak to finish the 14ers. He said he figured he owed me one.

On the summit of Mount of the Holy Cross for Bill’s 14er finisher in 2012. I’m second from left, Bill is second from right.

I met him at Prairie, had a couple of pours, and we moved on to a couple more taprooms (American Solera and Cabin Boys, in this instance) and grabbed some grub. Bill knows his beer, so it was good to take him around and get his take on some of our local breweries. He gave us a thumbs up.

With a belly full of beer and burritos, I headed home to nap it off before the launch. Eventually I made my way to the venue, and as I’m getting ready to go in, another surprise – I watched as my parents walked in the door ahead of me. It’s always good to see them, but this was a particularly pleasant surprise. I didn’t expect them to be there. They’ve been supportive of me through good times and bad, so I shouldn’t be shocked that they made the trip from Dallas to be there. That’s just who they are.

The launch itself was like a homecoming. I had a bunch of my Tulsa friends there, people who have let me into their circles since I moved here seven years ago. Buddies from my college days showed up. A dear friend from Arkansas and her daughter. Hiking friends from the Oklahoma City area. Folks I met through advocacy efforts on behalf of Turkey Mountain. It was a dizzying array of people from many strata of my life. My only regret was not being able to spend more time with all of them. You’d think it would be all about the book, and I’d do something like a reading or whatever, but no. We just hung out for a few hours and caught up. I like it better that way, mostly because I’m not entirely comfortable with being the center of attention. (Thanks for all the party pics, Steph!)

Needless to say, that went pretty late, followed by an early breakfast and then picking up Bill for one last outing. He’s heard me talk about Turkey Mountain (as have you all) quite a bit, so I figured I owed him a hike out there. We put in seven hot miles through the woods and talked about life. The book came up, too, and he had some observations that I felt were deep. Like I said earlier, I get a kick out of hearing people’s thoughts on what they’ve read. Often they’ll have conclusions that I didn’t see, and I wrote the dang thing.

Not exactly the Rockies, but I figured Bill could use some trail time at Turkey Mountain.

We followed that up with some post-hike pizza, then one last brewery stop (Heirloom Rustic Ales) before he had to head to the airport and home. Like the three other taprooms we visited, Heirloom does great work. It was also a hipster hangout, complete with not one, but two dudes (one sporting one of those ironic mustaches) spinning vinyl on a turntable.

After all that, I was whipped. But in a good way. There are a lot of people I met last weekend I’d like to get to know better. Folks I want to visit again soon. People I know I’ll see again, if for no other reason than to climb a mountain. The bulk of these folks I know through hiking, climbing or running. And those who aren’t directly tied to those experiences share a common love of the outdoors. Good people all. And I’m blessed to know all of them.

If you’re curious about the book “Outsider,” you can order it (print or Kindle) here.

Bob Doucette

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