Trav’s Travels & Adventures

27/07/2026

Tundra was put to rest today.

July 26th at 8:03PM the heart of one of the kindest souls I have ever known stopped beating.

My white German Shepherd, Tundra, left this world for the next and is now free from pain.

Last week, I noticed she began to show signs that something was off. She didn’t want to go in the truck. She didn’t want to eat. And so then it was time to see the vet.

We were in the midst of a search for a missing hiker in the nearby national park, so I was able to drop her off and the caring hands of the vet clinic took after her.

That afternoon on Thursday, they updated with news that they had found a mass. They were unsure if it was on her spleen or liver. I authorized the surgery and they had it listed for Friday but had to bump it to Saturday morning due to other cases coming in.

Saturday afternoon, they called and said the surgery went well. That she was eating and doing okay post op. However, the mass was cancer and they weren’t certain that it had not spread. They were going to keep her for observation until Monday.

Sunday afternoon, the doc called and informed that he had come in to check on her and found her having a seizure. She was given meds to stop it but was struggling and still shaking uncontrollably, foaming at the mouth, and unable to function. They ran additional tests and those results came back with indications that there was likely a brain tumor and that was causing the seizures and additional problems.

With Cocoa and Nello in tow, we headed to town from the search. It felt surreal having just done this with Canello five months ago.

I arrived at the vet clinic and went in. Tundra saw me as soon as I stepped into view and it was enough to make eye contact before she started shaking again. The doc explained that they had given her more meds for the seizure. But seeing her in the suffering that she was in, it was very obvious that it wasn’t going to stabilize or comfort her.

We carried her out to the room where the goodbyes are said. I went and got Nello and Cocoa and took them in.

There, the four of us were together again, one last time. Cocoa gave Tundra some kisses on her nose. Nello wasn’t sure what was going on. But eventually, it was noticed in him as he simply came over and sniffed around Tundra and then laid down and was calm.

I spent time petting Tundra and giving her kisses myself. Told her how much of a wonderful soul she had been and would always be. I told her that I was sorry for not getting her in sooner though I know it would not have changed the outcome.

Tundra came to me as a rescue from being a stray. My ex had been doing an animal rescue for dogs and I woke up for my night shift one afternoon to a beautiful white German Shepherd looking at me from out in the hallway, seated in a kennel. She had been absolutely quiet and hadn’t made a sound. I went over to her and it was pretty short and sweet when I messaged him and said we were keeping her.

I named her Tundra given her white color and association to snow. Her and Canello meshed instantly. He was sweet on her from the start and she was always just content with him.

Tundra had a protective side. At one time, she saved my ex as she rode with him and a pit bull that he had in the cab with him decided he wanted to attack. Tundra took him on and saved the day.

She absolutely loved riding in the truck. Went to sleep almost instantly but it seemed like it was her ultimate comfort spot. Hell, when working in the yard, I could open the door and leave it open on the truck and she would hop in and zonk out.

Tundra was a great hiking pup. I took her several times and she would always stay close but that nose of hers sure got a workout.

Once while home and out hiking around family land, she found a porcupine. It was intense and she was so good throughout that. I had never had to deal with that before and she had over 250 quills in her nose and mouth. That vet said it was one of the worst he had ever handled.

She recovered well but a few stragglers eventually showed up and had to get removed too.

GSDs love their independence and personal space. She snuggled but most of the time was content being on her own.

She had one hell of an internal clock for dinner time. And if I wasn’t fast enough, she was sure to let me know.

Her sweet, calm, and soft demeanor is going to be missed so badly. She was the big sister of the bunch. And now she’s gone.

In those final moments, I was there, just as I did with Canello. I stroked her head. Looked her in the eyes and told her how great of a soul she was. She was embraced until her chest stopped moving from that amazing heart she had at 8:03PM.

I’m glad I was able to have her and give her the life she had. But it’s just another piece of my soul that is gone with her now.

She’s not hurting anymore. And that’s what matters.

The pack here is short once again. But her memory and the pretty girl that she was will always be remembered.

We love you Tundra.
Our sweet, sweet Tundra.

From June 2016 to July 26, 2026, you were a blessing to have in this life.

05/07/2026

04/07/2026

02/07/2026

Alive Days.

I guess that’s what they’re called or referred to when you almost end up well, unalived.

There’s a few dates on the calendar that fall into that category for me. Some I can’t place. Others are etched in my brain.

July 1 is one of those…..

July 1, 2006 (20 years)

On what was an absolute beautiful Colorado summer day and evening would conclude in death and carnage by nightfall.

I was into my second month in the traffic unit on Fort Carson. Working swing shift and sporting a brand new 2006 Chevrolet Tahoe that didn’t even have decals yet. They kinda looked cooler and more intimidating that way anyhow.

The Saturday afternoon had started off slow as is typical for a military post. Everyone is generally sleeping in, recovering from the Friday night out or the week of military work that takes it all out of a person.

Traffic was light but as the afternoon moved into evening it picked up, as did the stops and radio calls.

Just before 10 PM, still daylight out with the sun slowly dropping behind Cheyenne Mountain, I clocked a vehicle speeding as it headed out Gate 1 and got after it and made a stop just outside base on the on ramp. Right after that, a patrol call sent a unit to a domestic disturbance call in the nearby housing unit.

I made contact with the two women in the vehicle, civilians, got the driver and vehicle information and went back to my unit to radio in.

The radio traffic was busy with the domestic call as the call escalated into the male soldier, intoxicated, taking the wife’s Z28 Camaro and fleeing the scene as patrol arrived. The patrol MP proceeded after the soldier and both began heading my way.

As they approached Gate 1, the patrol MP radioed me direct and notified of this and asked me to assist in getting the soldier stopped. I acknowledged and exited my vehicle at that point to intercept.

What happened next is something that doesn’t happen often in the military world. Generally, soldiers are compliant. Generally. This case was about to wake us up from that mindset or dismissive attitude.

I stepped to the rear of my unit on the shoulder as I observed the Camaro exiting the gate. It was traveling well over the speed limit at that point.

The roadway was such that as one left the gate to enter Colorado 115 northbound, a level, curved on ramp formed. I was on the other end of that curve from Gate 1.

As the Camaro shot past the guard house to the gate like a steer from a chute, I stepped out and into the roadway. Bad idea.

As the Camaro sped my way, I put my left hand up to signal the driver to stop. Police vehicle, flashing lights, me….well, that’s wasn’t happening.

This soldier, still on the accelerator and rounding the curve towards me had no intention of stopping.

Twenty years later I can still see his face. His eyes. Locked on me. His hands near the 10 and 1 on the wheel. I can still see it in slow motion. All of it. The Camaro hugging the ground, gripping the asphalt as designed, the slight shift to the right as the driver aimed right for me.

As this all played in my mind, my hands went from left up in air signaling to him to stop. And then my right hand down and onto my sidearm in holster. And in all those milliseconds. While my feet were planted to the pavement in that blocking “you shall not pass” stance, it dawned on me. “He isn’t stopping, get out of the way!”

With the patrol MP behind him with red and blues on, I turned to my left and ran for the ditch. To this day, I can still feel the air from the Camaro skirting by behind me as I got to the shoulder and it shot by. Followed by that dual exhaust roar. And then the patrol MP shortly after.

I ran to my unit, grabbed the gal’s license and papers and ran to her car as she chatted up her passenger while radioing into Sentinel that we had a pursuit. I tossed her stuff into her car, ran back and jumped into mine, hit the siren, and floored it to catch up. I remember being absolutely pi**ed too.

It was fast. The Camaro was at triple digits and way ahead of both of us. I caught up to the patrol MP fast and just as that was happening, about a mile ahead, it suddenly looked like a dust storm or dust devil had formed. Or like rotor wash from a helicopter. The soldier had crashed the Z28 while trying to take the exit ramp for Academy Boulevard.

Screeching to a stop at the top of the ramp, the call for rescue and ambulance placed, I jumped out. The Camaro was ahead of me on the other side of Academy Boulevard and upright. It looked like a space shuttle crash or aircraft crash though. What had been a black T-top Camaro was more of a rounded off, silver colored hunk of metal now. The passenger compartment intact, tires flat, warped, and the road gouged from one side to the other. And nobody was inside.

I holstered my gun once realizing he had been ejected and moved to the ditch where I quickly found him amongst debris and torn up turf. Face down, on the embankment, struggling to breathe.

Sentinel was updated and I worked to get a response from him but it was no use. I didn’t dare move him and simply stood by to ensure his airway remained clear.

Other units arrived, rescue and ambulance soon after. And state troopers after that since we were off post.

With crews on scene and attending to him he soon loaded up and transported. He was declared dead twenty minutes or so later. His blood intoxication level would return over a .20.

Walking the scene with one of the troopers we determined that the Camaro had left the pavement of the exit ramp at a high rate of speed. They would determine eventually around 110 mph. The vehicle velocity forced it off to the left and into the ditch where the soldier continued flooring the gas and the rear tires chewed into the earth and eventually forced the Camaro into the right hand turn, then sideways. The Camaro then tripped under acceleration and began to rollover.

After rolling at least nine times the car landed on its wheels and rims and slid sideways across one shoulder and two lanes before coming to a stop. On roll seven or eight is likely when the soldier was ejected. No seat belt of course.

Twenty years old. Drunk. Assaulted his wife. Fled the scene. Fled from MPs. Tried to run me over. Crashed. And ultimately died.

It was a wake up call for me. For us. Having just returned from our second deployment to Iraq. It was clear that as MPs, the dangers weren’t just overseas with enemy combatants but we also still faced threats and dangers back stateside in performance of our garrison police duties.

Still, it was a sobering experience at 22 years old to have another soldier do what he did or tried to do to me having just months before only been concerned with any attempts on my life coming from foreign persons in a combat zone.

Private Brian Randall Martin, 20 years old, of Texas. A fire control specialist for artillery. Left a wife and son. In the Army for only nine months. One mistake. One choice. Dead.

30/06/2026

Toitle crossing! Damn right I stopped and helped her across!

29/06/2026

I was watching a James 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 Bond Movie and this moment came on with a scorpion and I had an epiphany:

Some people flinch when danger gets close.
Others stay still, take a slow drink, and keep their eyes forward while the threat crawls across their skin.

That’s not fearlessness for show. That’s something deeper. That’s the person who’s already made peace with the fact that death and danger have always been close, and they’re still here. Still moving. Still choosing how they carry themselves through it.

Life and war don’t care how tough you talk. They test you in the quiet moments. When the adrenaline fades. When you’re tired. When the scorpion is already on your hand and there’s no dramatic music playing. Betrayal, chaos or whatnot.

The real ones don’t perform calm. They are calm. Not because they’re numb, but because they’ve already decided who they’re going to be no matter what crawls toward them.
You don’t get that kind of steadiness by avoiding the fight. You get it by walking through it, again and again, until the chaos no longer owns you.

Some spend their whole lives trying to outrun the scorpion.
The rare ones learn how to drink with it sitting right there… and never lose their grip on the glass.
That’s the difference between surviving war and becoming something it can’t break.
Hooah.
Drive on.
~DS Rock 🪨

28/06/2026

Hike #18
1.92 miles
2026 total is now 74.75 miles

80° and windy. Thank God as it’s humid too.
0 critters, aside from prairie dogs and birds.

Hiked an area that is open, rolling prairie. Tons of cactus and rock.

Came across three spots that look to be of possible Native American type. A circular ring, for tipis. A rock mound about 6 feet in length. And another interesting spot of smaller rocks piled near/next to a larger boulder. None of this area would have been tilled up for farming, nor does it show any signs of that as it’s too rocky and high up and there’s no erosion or tillage lines for any fields.

And a possible stone with tooling. But, it could be natural too.

Made it back to the truck just a the thunder hit from a small storm building and dropping rain too.

27/06/2026

No adventures today.

Just all these four legged kiddos supervising the yard work activities.

And looking at these photos, I realize that this year really needs to have everything restained🤣.

26/06/2026

Adventures at home still.

Yard work and what not. Rain still continues to come through so hiking still on pause.

Plenty of playing and exploring at home though!

23/06/2026

And the rain keeps coming. This week and weekend is looking like great precipitation but a continued pause on any hiking adventures yet again.