My fear of heights

I have a fear of heights and yet I love hanging from planes and climbing hikes peaks, and want to go sky divining. I enjoy rollercoaster’s and rides and make your stomach sink. However when I stand at the top of a large building or near the end of a railing near a cliff where there is loose gravel and rocks, or on a bridge and get extremely scared and feel weak and uneasy in my stomach. I think this fear goes back to my childhood and an event that happen to me while on vacation with my family. I think I was about 8 years of age and like to explore and play outside in the woods. One summer my family spent a week boating up the St. Lawrence River into Canada. We would spend time at different islands in the states then in Canada, and fish and swim. Take the dingy around and explore the water. Some of the islands had camps and sandy beaches, and we would often bring tents and sleep outside instead of in the boat. One of the islands we docked at had some really exciting cliffs around the other beck edge over looking the Canadian landscape. I wanted to go explore and my father and I headed out to see what we would find. We located a small path just past the end of the dock, and headed off up and over the first few rocks. I was excited and remember running ahead and jumping around as we walked further into the woods towards the steeper edges of the islands. As we reached a clearing I could see the water and could see we were high up above the water. I remember my father saying to be careful as i ran ahead and to not get to close to the edge. No sooner did he say that I had started to make my way down a small bank towards the edge of the cliff. I hadn’t noticed all of the pines needles, and suddenly slipped on a patch and started to slide fast towards the edge. I remember grabbing at everything and anything nearby but couldn’t seem to get a hold, as I continued to slide. It felt like I was never going to stop the cliff was getting closer. When all of a sudden the back my shirt tugged and I was jerked back to a quick stop. I sat there looking down at the edge of the rocks and seeing some of them fall off from my body kicking them. My fathers who’s face was in sheer panic grabbed my shit, and pulled me close and secured us by a nearby tree. I remember him not yelling at me but being very stern about staying close and hugging me. He must have realized how in shocked I was and changed his tone to a more instruction tone and told me that the pines needs could sometimes be like ice and you have to watch where you step. My heart was in my throat and my stomach was uneasy, I felt cold and chilled and shocked at what had just happened and how close we were. I don’t remember anything else about that island or even if we continued to look around more. I do remember I was scared out of my mind, not only with the thought of me having fallen but the fact that my father could have fallen himself trying to save me. Later that night we took the dingy around to where we had slipped, and I think my fear of heights and being near slippery step edges comes from was seeing the large jagged rocks about 30 feet below that we could have landed on. Even writing this, I can still remember vividly that slip and how It scared me.

I Brew Beer

The former "hops capital" of the U.S. Oneonta NY, some friend and colleagues of mine have setup a group to study and appreciate the art of home brewing. The clubs name is The Home Brewers of Otsego Proper-Society. And you can join us every third Friday of the month and a different venue where we gather to share our home brews. To see a list of upcoming and past events visit us here, http://hopsbrewclub.wordpress.com.

One of the most enjoyable aspects of beer making is in the act of sharing, discussing, experiencing, and promoting expansive beer styles and progressive home brewing procedures. As if the camaraderie and friendships alone are not reason enough to join a homebrew club, forming a larger network of home brewers gives each of us the opportunity to share and experience several different beer styles made by home brewers. Nothing can heighten the beer palate and senses like experiencing several different styles made with differing malts, hops, and adjuncts from around the globe. Listening to home brewers' procedures can educate and challenge each member to consider using alternative and different techniques and equipment with their own batches. The objective of establishing this homebrew club is to cultivate, educate, and celebrate brewing. Each month we will gather to socialize and discuss all-things-brewed. For each monthly meeting a brewer/group of brewers will take turns brewing a specific, featured, style of beer to showcase for the club. We will spend some time tasting, learning, and discussing the specifics of this style. The brewer/s might explain the ingredients and processes that went into the beer, as well as, any history, special techniques, or tweaking made along the way. After the presentation, additional brews should make their way from those confining bottles, growlers, and kegs and into the cups of others. Additionally, other club members should bring and share the fruits of their labor as well. Depending on interest, down the road, we hope to establish club-wide brew days and even public-judged, club-sanctioned competitions. My brew club gathers 3 to 4 times a year for a Big Brew Day. This particular brew day was the first ever for the Home brewers of Otsego Proper Society and it was held on Saturday 4/2. I had never brewed before so I was anxious to see what it was all about, and how I could get started into brewing on my own. The event was held at a member house, in Hartwick New York. We gathered at around 8:00 am in the morning to get the water boiling and the grains started. Roger Davidson the member’s home we brewed at had setup a beautiful stainless steel brew system, and he has just received his license to sell and distribute his own brew for resale and for the brew club. Our club president Josh and Roger also got together during the week to prepare all of the grains we needed for this big day as well. This is the process in which they crack all of the grain from the whole grain seeds instead of using a malt extract.

The entire brew day lasted 11.5 hour event had each of us a bit more content with our "smaller brew systems" ha-ha! I used a Belgium strain of yeast for our home brew club president but here were several other yeasts in the mix. The neat thing about this process was in the end we had about 30 car boys that we filled each with its own yeast mix. SO no one beer was the same at the others. After letting my beer ferment in my car boys for three weeks I prepared for bottling. In this process I had to heat up about a half-gallon of water and some more sugar, and mixed it in with the batch that was fermenting. I then siphoned out all the beer into individual Grolsh bottles and stored them away in my cellar for another week, to allow them to carbonate. Once completed after a week I grabbed few bottles and chilled them in the refrigerator and shared them with the brew club at our next meeting. The taste was phenomenal. It was a light summer like blend and it came out perfect. I still didn’t quite understand the entire process since there were so many people involved in this brewing even. But it gave me the motivation to start doing this again on my own at home. Since our first brew meeting I have done this three more of my own batches and each one has come out phenomenal. I have a done a light pilsner, a dark sour brown ale, and an IPA red. We currently are no longer using this site I setup but you can see what I Had created. We felt a blog was easy to edit, and update with current information. http://jpbugyi.com/hops/

Some recommended reading for those of you interested in doing your own home brewing , is The Complete Joy of Home brewing by Charlie Papazian, master brewer and founder of the American Home brewer’s Association . Everything you need to get started is here, including classic and new recipes for brewing stouts, ales, lagers, pilsners, porters, specialty beers, and honey meads.

Death and a Dream

The sound came from the basement. It was a loud thud that managed to knock a small ornament off the shelving, onto the floor adjacent from me. I was the only one home, sitting on the couch, the dogs were perched on my lap.

I grabbed a flash light and headed out to the garage so I could make my way into the basement to see what had fallen or caused the bang. I feared that my hot water heater may have fallen or even worse the supports for the furnace gave way. As I opened the door to the basement, I reached quick for the light switch, and noticed a dark shadow move down below.

Chills ran down my spine, my hair stood on end and Goosebumps covered my body. You know that feeling when you are alone in a room and are suddenly overcome with a sense of fear. Well I had that feeling and it was not going away. I poked my head down and shined the flashlight. Everything appeared normal. I headed further down to the bottom of the stairs to check my sump pump, to make sure that wasn’t the culprit.

I noticed stones, stones that supported the foundation knocked and a small 2 foot hole leading out from my basement. I peered in with my flashlight into the hole. It seemed deep. I had never noticed it before, and the bang I head could not have been associated to what I would think rocks falling would have done. I grabbed a pole from the corner of the basement and used it to poke around inside. I couldn’t feel an end to the tunnel and it felt like it got wider.

“Do I make the hole bigger so I can crawl in and see what this is?” All of a sudden a gust of cold air shot out from the hole, knocking me backwards, and opening the gap more.. as soon as I grasped my barring’s, the winded started to suck inward, with a force of a jet engine. I felt my body beginning to move, I was being pulled in to this tunnel. Grasping to anything nearby, I held on with all my strength. My hands on the edge, I was suddenly stuck by a falling object.

When I came too, my head was pounding. I wasn’t in my basement anymore. I was lying on a wet patch of soft moss, the beam of bright light shining down on my face through pink blossoming leaves all around me. I rubbed my head and made my way to my feet. There was no sign of a tunnel or indication of how I got here. I saw the silhouette of a younger man making his way towards me. Confused I felt certain calmness come over me, as the man made his way through the trees on onto the patch of grass.

I felt like I had met this man before, like somehow I knew him, and he knew me. He greeted me with a warm “hello their friend.” The tone of his voice was calm and welcoming.
“Where am I ? “
He said you’re in a place where time stands still, it’s wonderful place where anything you can imagine can happen. Follow me I’ll show you.”

I followed him out of the area where I had landed and we started to walk out into the open pastures, there were waters falls, fields of grass, giant mountains, and trees everywhere. The air smelled so fresh and the skies were a bright blue with soft clouds.

We continued along and I noticed others walking along waiving at me and smiling. We made our way to an old dirt road and headed down it. I saw a small green house in the distance. Objects that appeared to be miles away, we came across in what felt like seconds. I didn’t feel like we had walked far, but looking back the area we had started from seems miles from our view of sight. As we approached the small green cottage style house, I realized that this house, was my own house.

We made our way up the driveway, “This is my house.” I said how this is possible. The old man took man hand and guided me through the front door, into the kitchen and then stopped at the entrance to the living room.
There I was. Seated on the couch, the dogs sleeping in my lap, my head tilted back as if I was asleep. How could I be in two places at once? What was going on?

A rush of fear came over me, and I fell to the floor. The young man knelt down next to me and said, “We never know when our time will come, but at some point he comes for us all. I’ve missed you, and we are all here to make you feel at home.”

As I looked back up at him, a tear dropped from my eye. Sadness and happiness, several emotions ran through my head. I looked into the eyes of a man I knew for a good portion of my life. My grandfather looked much younger now, like he did in the old photo I had on the wall of him playing his fiddle.

I don’t remember what happened after that, but I felt at peace being in his company. We made our way back out to the field where other people were, the sun shining even brighter now. A beam of light hit my eyes, and made me squint. Rubbing them to ease the brightness, I suddenly I felt the dogs on my lap, I leaned forward. I was on the couch, I felt small pieces of sand in my eyes, and a line of drool on my chin. The sun was beaming in from the windows and shining right on my face. In the corner of my eye, I noticed that the front door was open.

Flying High Above Oneonta NY

If I were a millionaire I would do aerial photography full time for clients. I would purchase my own plane and get certified to be a pilot. Use my flying hobby to offer services for other people into photography or people who want to sky dive. Unfortunately I’m not a millionaire, but I do get a chance to do this twice a year shooting aerial photography for the SUNY Oneonta campus. On this particular day I had a flight out of SUNY Oneonta airport to shoot aerial photography for the campus. It was a beautiful 65 degree day out, and the sky was crystal clear. We shoot at Noon since the shadows will be the most minimal on the campus and the surrounding trees. We shoot in the Fall and in the Spring so we don’t have leaves and other objects obstructing our view.

I arrived at the airport early to meet my pilot Rob who was flying in from Cooperstown. He is a 15 year pilot who teaches flying class at SUNY Oneonta. The small plane we use, we have to take the door off so I can lean out the side and hold the camera vertical to capture a good shot of the buildings on campus. We pack into the lane and prepare for takeoff. The wind is blowing hard, and the flay shifts to the right as we begin to lift off the runway. My heart falls into my stomach as we drop from loss of wind flow, and then rise quickly. We begin to turn and make our way towards the campus.

We take a grid pattern at about 1000 feet above campus flying back and forth computing images. The images will be used by office like our facilities offices on campus to survey the property and plan future projects. They can also be used to map out key points and features, and make a good time line of the changes that have been done to dorms, classrooms and landscaping throughout the years. We complete the grid pattern of campus and start to make our way up to 5,000 feet to get more images. The wind is clod and the temperature drops to below freezing. Off in the distance I see what looks like bald eagle. Rob my pilot sees it to and we decide to try to fly over and get a shot of it. With my zoom lens I can get very close images of things, but this magnificent bird was just too fast and we lost it almost as soon as we saw it.

I have a fear of heights but for some reason once we are off the ground and in the air, all that fear goes away. I realized this the first time I hung out of the plane with nothing but a lab belt holding me in that the perspective was a lot different and I didn’t get and uneasy unstable feeling and fear of heights. We head back to the airport and capture some images of the college camp and our telescopes they use to study the stars. Making our way to the runway my fear of heights comes back, the ground and my perspective changes again as we get closer and closer. We are coming in fast to the run way and again the wind begins to push the plane to the right. We come down so fast and bump down and the wheels chirp. What a great flight, and once I know we are safe on the ground my heart stops racing.

For more details on this story check out my voicethread here: https://voicethread.com/share/2964019/

How I got my CB500Four Honda

6 years ago I purchased a 1971 Honda cb500 Four. I’ve always had a love for old classic motorcycles, but either couldn’t find or can’t afford an old BMW, BSA, Royal Enfield or Indian.

I was driving down the road early Sunday morning with my father after doing some yard work on the house I had just purchased. We spotted this bike just leaning beside a barn, just down the road from my house. I had wanted a motorcycle for a while now, and was constantly harassed by my friend to find something I could ride with him and my father during the summer. We decided to stop in and find out what the story was behind the bike and if he was interested in selling it.

He had a lot of stuff outside like he was spring cleaning, and we didn’t think there was any harm in asking if he was interested in selling.

When we got to the house and older man with a thick accent stepped out and asked how we were doing. “Are you interested in selling this motorcycle I asked.” He immediately answered, “Yes, what’s your offer? If you can get it running I’d like to see it back on the road instead of in my shed. “

He then went on to ask if I wanted to buy his old BMW as well, however I had a feeling that bike wouldn’t be as in expensive as what I thought I could get the Honda at.
After negotiating with him we came to an agreed price of six hundred dollars, which I just happened to have put aside for an occasion just like this. My father jumped in his truck, and headed back to his house to pick up the trailer. We needed the trailer so we could get the bike home, and start the project of getting this bike up and running.

While I waited for my father to return, the older man started to talk about how he was working on finishing up a conversion project to his old garage. He was hoping to relocate full time to upstate New York from his current residence long island. He also went on to mention that his son play NFL football for the Miami Dolphins. However he also mentioned that he had a falling out with his son, and they haven’t spoken since he was drafted back in 1992. I asked if his signature was worth anything, since he had to sign over the title, and briefly mentioned that his son had changed his name when he got into the NFL too.

It amazing how much information people will share with you once you have found a common interest. I felt like he hadn’t had anyone to talk with in sometime, and was eager to talk about the history of the motorcycle, his life and family and the renovations he was making to this converted garage. We even got on the subject of my last name, and he having heard it before overseas, asked if my family was of Hungarian descent, which my family is. We then went on to talk about some other Hungarians that lived in our area, although he mentioned must of use were shorter. This coming from a large, six foot three man, who probably would dwarf most people in our small town. I however got my mother’s side of the family jeans, and am a bit taller than my five foot six father, standing at six feet tall.

Back home, we checked the bike to make sure there was pressure in the system, replaced the spark plugs. Pulling the carbs out and cleaning all four of them, since we could see some fuel coming out of the exhaust pipe. Pull the Air Filter and give it a good rinse. And since the battery was all but dead, add purchasing a new battery to that list.

Once we got the bike cleaned up and put back together, new battery in, we tried to start it up. A few chugs from the started and it was alive. The bike smoked a little bit, but it was running. My father and I headed out with his bike, for a test run to make sure everything seemed ok. We headed out for about a ten mile ride, and returned back to the house. The bike was running good. Some minor issues we would have to address, but for the most part I scored a pretty nice bike, and so far only had about seven hundred dollars invested in it.

Next thing I had to do was to get my motorcycle license and get then get the bike registered, and plates for the road.

First time I took it to get registered the men at the shop in Oneonta mentioned a website I should look at. They started to tell me almost everyone they knew that had an old 70s Honda turned it into a Café Racer. At the time I was just happy to have a bike to ride in the summer, nice cool breeze in my face. It wasn’t until about a year ago, that I decided my bike was going to get an extreme make over…. And become the Café Racer it deserved to be!

Tough Mudder Mount Snow VT 2011

My legs tired, brushed and cut, my mind racing with excitement. I just completed a crazy 10 mile obstacle course. A course they call the most difficult course you will ever encounter! And here is my story……
Departing from Oneonta, I headed to Mt. Snow to compete in an event called Tough Mudder, with 7 other friends. This was my first time driving to Vermont and was excited to see some of the Green Mountains. As I drove, I fell in love as I made my way up the windy roads through Troy then into Vermont. The views of all the hills made me want to stop and capture photos of everything I saw. I made notes in my journal as I drove up and down the mountains to remember some trail heads I spotted along the way. But there was no time to stop, I had the meet the group of guys for dinner and make sure we got an early registration for our race Bibs.

I arrived late Friday night to meet up the group of guys, and pack ourselves into our room at the lodge for the next two nights. The room could comfortably hold 4 people, but we managed to fit seven men, and three women on, air mattresses, couches, and pillow beds. I was the 5th to arrive out of the seven of us, and we begin the evening preparing a big pasta dinner for energy for our run, and a few beers to lighten our moods. We all ate together and then decided that Mohawks would be a good idea to add to our teams moral. Think the beer helped in that decision making as well.
We woke the next day, slow to rise tired from staying up a little later then expected. We had to be up and out early to get our race numbers, and didn’t want to wait in the already gorwing line of racers. We got our Bib numbers, a light breakfast and protein shakes, and started changing, taping ankles and stretching for the big race. We were in the 5th group to leave for the run, scheduled for 11:00am. We watched as several other groups, some in crazy and elaborate costumes began the race in the earlier time spots, and enjoyed some of the activities going on around us.
10:30 we took our last group photo before our run, and made our way to the starting line….

The packs of racers were all excited and rowdy, at the starting line. The crowds energy fuelled everyone’s energy and the mood and excitement increased as start time grew closer. The race announcer got the crowd pumped with some motivational words and the exciting news that Osama BinLadin had been killed in an assault by our navy seals just a few days prior. Several of the proceeds from this race go towards the wounded warrior projects, a organization or inured veterans. The crowd was amped.

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1………

A gun shot, canon smoke and confetti at the gate, and we took off with hundreds of other runners down the hill and up around the bend to start our first assent up to the summit of Mount Snow. Quickly our team became separate, and we pared up with the teams members of the same running abilities. Running up hill seemed to be something I had not fully trained for, and little did I know were about to run up and down this mountain over 15 times. As my run turned into a walk we made our way up the rocks slope, while big ice makers blasted us with water. My friend Craig an I, who were pretty much the same running abilities, and were not fans of running up hills, stuck together as we rounded the top. Our first three mile check point and water station, then back down the hill into an mud bog obstacle that zigzagged up and down eight times.

As we ran up and down the mud trail, twisting ankles on the slippery rocks, I could see my other team mates through the trees still jogging up the first 3 mile hill we had, and then spotted 3 others ahead of us trekking through the mud obstacle and into the woods.

From the mud obstacle up and down we made our way across the mountain into the woods, for more trails, and tree obstacles down to the submerged water tunnels. The tunnels were propped up on one end and facing downward into a ravine filled with water, back into another tunnel which we had to climb out of, to exit the ravine. I remember my claustrophobic feelings as I made my way down the tunnel and the light started to disappear. The water in front of me I found it hard to catch my breath. Quickly I held my breath and submerged my head into the water until I thought I cleared the end . Once out and across the water pit, I had to submerge my head quickly back into the water into the last tunnel and out the ravine. I made it out in once piece with a big smile on my face seeing, friends of ours cheering us on. My arms took a beating from all the small rocks that were lying at the bottom of the water pit.


We made our way back up for accent to the top of mount snow where several water obstacles awaited us. We traversed under barbed wire obstacles and through a maze of tires strategically placed that made us trip and fall face first into the mud.. My arms still bleeding from being cut on the jagged rocks and sharp hay, we passed started to pass several runners who had stopped due to leg cramps, broken fingers and sprained ankles.

Almost to what we thought was the top, and our water course we grabbed a giant, what felt like 40 pound log, and began to carry it up the mountain 200 yards and then back down. I watched other running accidently drop their log, and it bounced down the hill, while other runners tried to get out of the way. Definitely an accident waiting to happen,. Once runner was being escorted off the course with an arm that looked like it was broken and bent in an awkward way, just flopping there.

Craig and I continued on strong and determined, as our other members of our team slowly started to catch up, as we made our way to the ice cold pond. The water near freezing on this early May day, we climbed the 15 foot wooden ladder then barreled in off the platform. Hitting the water, the extreme cold on my overheated body caused me to lose my breath and choke a little, as I tried to swim to the rope to guide me out to the shore. My legs started to cramp a lot at this point, from the hot and cold, and sheer exhaustion that my legs and body through. We stopped for a moment while the rest of our team that was behind us cough up and try to stretch out the pains in my legs. Other runners had grabbed survival warmers, a silver thin blanket that helps you maintain your core body temperature. Once we had grouped out with the other two member we continued on as a team of four, knowing the other three member were still somewhere in front of us.

Legs tired, we made up for lost time from walking up the mountain by running down the mountain as much as we could. My speed and momentum allowed me to easily hurdle hay bales, and logs. Rolling over and under them as we progressed, speeding down nearing the races final group of obstacles.


Almost to the bottom we stopped at the giant Ice Mountain, which made my hands start to freeze as we help other runners make it up the slippery ice trail. Once over the slippery top we started to slide bottom first down the path laid by all the previous runner throughout the day. It was when I rolled over on my belly to get more speed I realized I had stabbed myself with three of the bobby pins holding my bib number to my shirt.


Down the rest of the mountain, we made it to three more ice filled water pits. Over under, the water was cold and the ice made it even colder. It was dyed green and orange and colored everyone a fund highlighter color when we exited the tanks. I grabbed some bananas and more water, then made it to the monkey bars, which extended over more cold water for about twenty feet. With little energy left, and my eye on the berlin walls ahead, I dropped into the water to conserve energy. I grabbed the bananas which I hadn’t eaten yet from my freezing cold pockets. I was hoping the Bananas would kick right in and remove the soreness from my legs and hamstring, but with no luck.

At the berlin wall, these 15 foot solid walls, we helped other teams mates over. I was glad we had been grouped back up with our two other friends who we started the race with, to help us get over his difficult obstacle. Lifting them up and straddling the top we were able to help pull over several runners. By the time we made it to the fourth and last wall, I was ready to be done. Only 3 miles left, after completing 7 miles, we headed for the finish line and the last remaining obstacles. The rope course was a nice change of pace, since the pile of runners waiting in line allowed up time to stretch and rest our legs. We all posed for a photo, the 4 of us that ended up together, and our friends told us that the other three guys had just finished.


From the ropes course we ran through the smoking bog, which choked you as you gasped for air. It was filled with burning hail bails and a horrible smell that made you want to throw up. I thought covering my face with my wet shirt would make it easier to get through the horrible smell, but found it just added an even more unconformable taste to my mouth. From the fire we made it to the top of a water slide.


Up the last small hill I would have to run up for the day we made it to the top of this giant water slide. I backed up and ran; jumping head first I flew down the raven, the crowd cheering in front of us. We gather at the bottom to wait for the other guys and grasped arms for the last obstacle the electrical course. We had no idea what to expect we had only seen videos and heard of horror stories of people who were dropped to their feet in pain from the shocks. 10,000 volts of electricity dangling in the air, and we had to run through 15 feet of it to make it to the finish line. Heads down we ran, and almost ran over other runners who were dropped from the stun of the shocks.



Sore, beat up and tired, happy we didn’t drop from the volts, we all cheers at the end. High fives, and beers, all well worth the pain and suffering and price of admission for this days event. Probably the most fun I have had at an obstacle course yet. And it made me want to sign up for more…

Documenting An Awareness of Design IDT590 - Wall Art is Everywhere

In an earlier post I brought up wall art being done in cities. In the article about the art work in Oneonta, they wanted to show how the city of the hills once was. In this image in Boston the art work on the building made walking by look like a modern city sky line. With all of the history in Boston they could have depicted any scene from the past, (I am image there are some) but I think the historical aspect of the city stands alone so other elements of artist design are used. I didn’t notice this building at first since from far away the art work actually blended into the rest of the city, which I think was pretty neat.