Didgeridoo
- March 2008
- Dogs Uncategorized
This is Eric Beckstead, was just looking around and saw your blog. I remembered hanging out with you guys for a couple of days in (I think) 2000 up in Moab. I was the tubby guy with the weird hair who played Didgeridoo.
In any case, was just checking out your web site and wanted to say hey! You guys are doing some really cool stuff and keep it up.
-Eric
Dear Eric,
I read this to Dean, and said, “I even still have pictures from that day, with Eric and his didgeridoo, and you and Jimmie Dunn and Fletch!” He said, “I still want that didgeridoo!”
I remember we were living in Dean’s van, in the Kane Creek parking lot, by the Tombstone, when we met you. And Dean and Jimmie were talking about freeing the Tombstone, by Jimmie’s old aid route. And Fletcher was only 5. Time flies, doesn’t it?
You will be glad to know that after we met you, we visited Arkansas and met another didgeridoo player. He made these beautiful didgeridoos out of PVC pipe that he melted and twisted and painted. So Dean finally got one.
The sound when Dean “plays” is, well, umm, loud, and tends to make dogs hide under furniture or nearby vehicles. (As opposed to happily listening, like Fletch is doing in this picture, while Dean is pretty transparently trying to figure out some way to get the didgeridoo.) However, it does look very attractive, and fortunately it’s more often seen than heard. 😉
It’s really great to hear from you, and I hope all is well in your world. We have definitely never forgotten meeting you, and hearing you play. Thanks for writing!
xx Steph
Well I actually did finish Dean’s didg, just never managed to get around to sending it to you guys. hopefully I’ll pop up by Moab again some time and get it to you. Great picture! I had a blast with you two, watching Dean through binoculars was my first introduction to him, while you were always very busy. Great times 🙂
Hmm… that mighta been 2001. I have happy memories of meeting Eric and his dad Dave when I was there on my road trip. We met Dave in the visitor center parking lot when you and I got back from doing the Owl and Ancient Art. We got out of your truck and saw Dean, Jimmie, and some then-unknown gent talking, then Dean pointed over in our direction and the gent gave a hard stare aimed at me.
At first I thought, “Uh oh, what’s up?”, but then Dean, Jimmie, and the gent walked over. Dean made introductions, then Dave said, “So, Dean says you’re from Washington… Your dad wouldn’t happen to be Fred Stanley, would he?”
“Yeah, he is,” I replied, mystified.
“He and I climbed together back in the early ’60s!”
Pretty amazing that on the first climbing day of my trip, I end up meeting one of my dad’s first partners from back in the day. Anyway, I remember we ended up having dinner with Dave’s family at the Mexican restaurant (it’s now a bike shop?) out on the highway. I remember Eric talking about mathematics that whooshed straight over my head.
Good memories. I’m glad the world always turns out to be smaller and more personal than we think it is in our darker hours. 8)
Matt, dude you need to send me a email. I’m on my short final. Just a few months to retirement. My email is my firstname.lastname@gmail so please give me a blast. Sorry to use this but I lost contact with all my trips to the heat.