More About the Author
Here are two "About the Author" spiels that appear in two of my books. The first appears in the Death Valley Book Of Knowledge. The second is from the book, Free On Three, about human powered recumbent tricycles.
From DEATH VALLEY BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE:
Steve Greene first ventured into Death Valley in 1955, at the innocent age of four, with his parents Bob and Joan, and his little sister Willow, who was only two. Prior to Steve's birth, his father and mother visited Death Valley in 1947 on a Harley-Davidson motorcycle, staying the first night in Death Valley Junction, where they were issued a candle at the motel due to an electrical outage.
A love affair with this strangely alluring land grew in Steve through the years of continued family visits, where camping out at Furnace Creek was common. As happens with many who travel into the bizarre Death Valley region, Steve has repeatedly returned throughout his life, to a landscape that sings to his spirit. In elementary school, Steve did reports about the mining and geology of the area, and built a plastic scale model of the Twenty Mule Team. In high school, his parents bought him a large painting of the team for his bedroom wall.
He is noted for his countless backcountry expeditions into the remote hinterlands of Death Valley National Monument and Park, beginning on his own in 1975 when he purchased a CJ-5 Jeep and would lead friends into the wild country. His groups would probe the most secret corners, always seeking out the areas rarely visited by the crowds. More recently, Steve has been found on Death Valley's dirt backroads in his Nissan Xterra, roaming solo through the land that has become an inseparable part of his psyche.
Steve has also authored a 300 page book of his personal travels throughout the backcountry, in an attempt to provide others with the experiences and feelings that exist when exploring Death Valley and environs. It is called Exploring Wild Death Valley, a Primordial World of Discovery and Adventure. It was in that book that his "Old Trailmaster" persona came to life.
Originally from southern California, on the cusp of the mighty Mojave Desert, he spent the first thirty-one years of his life in close proximity to Death Valley National Park. Later, he moved up to the rugged San Juan Mountains in southwestern Colorado, living in small rural towns hidden in deep forests 9,000 feet above sea level. There, he continued his explorations on the historic mining roads and trails of majestic Rocky Mountain peaks. Currently, Steve finds his peace at home in the northwest rural setting of the Oregon woods. His yearly visits to his mother's house near Death Valley keep him in touch with this piece of his past. He is a man forever wild.
From FREE ON THREE:
Most "About the Author" pages in books are written in the third
person, using the pronouns "she" or "he" to give the appearance the
piece is written by someone other than the author. This supposedly
lends an aura of credibility to the author, and removes any potential for
inferred arrogance, as the mysterious third person can wax poetic about
the book's writer and no one mistakes it as ego out of control. Well
folks, I am the author, and I'll be using the pronoun "I" in this piece, as
there is nothing to boast about. I'm just a modest and mellow explorer
of the natural world doing my best to quietly and harmoniously enjoy
my time here on the planet I call home.
It's a pretty good planet too. And the universe isn't half bad
either. I get the sense that I'm all linked into it somehow, and one of my
life endeavors is to learn more. So here I am, searching my world and
sharing a few tidbits about myself for anyone who is determined to find
out just how crazy I really am. Stop reading now if you're a normal
human being who believes in the status quo. All others proceed at their
own risk (don't say I didn't warn you) ...
Life is a journey, and we all travel different paths. And yes, it is
the journey that counts, not the destination, for the destination most
assuredly is one few of us wish to discuss if we want to avoid rather
unsettling thoughts. Of course, occasionally retaining the grim reaper's
destination in view reminds us to make the most of our journey while
we are still on it, not fretting and fettering away the time each day over
trivial gripes and complaints that have a stranglehold on so many
people. The trike comes in handy in this regard. Not only does it
increase our physical health and fitness, but it also improves our spirits,
for who among us can not help but love the experience each time we
slip into the cockpit, click onto the pedals, grab the handlebars, and
rocket off for yet another adventure, be it around town or across the
country?
Okay, yep, it's hard for me to stop talking about trikes and focus
on myself, but since you paid for and probably expect some "About the
Author" chatter, let's change course and talk about Wild Steve instead.
It's Saturday morning, the ninth of April 2011. The sun is rising
and the air warming. It's springtime! Little over an hour ago, as I was
just emerging from sleep, in a semi-conscious state where my mind
tends to have amazing epiphanies, I thought, "Aha, it's time to
awaken!" It was more than simply opening my eyes and getting out of
bed, as it occurred to me that this chapter of the book, which I had
originally written last fall while awaiting the contributors' submissions,
was nothing more than continuing talk about tricycles and why I ride
one. So now, I'm doing a rewrite.
Most "About the Author" sections of many books are also
pretty anemic, only a short paragraph long, with scant information
about the writer. You end up knowing where the person lives, who the
spouse is, and how many kids are running around the house. That's
about it. Well, since this is a big book, the equivalent of two 370 pagers,
perhaps a big bunch of words about its presenter is in order. We'll put
some meat in meet the author. Further reading is optional however if
you already know enough and have better things to be doing today.
Let's begin with a tad of info about who I think I might be. I
will pull thoughts from my past, which is all I can do here because I'm
in the present. Oh gads, he's getting philosophical? Well maybe, after
some brief history. The "wild" of Wild Steve came about because of my
life-long love for the wilds of nature, a feral condition initially realized
in early childhood when I couldn't get enough of hiking. I always had
to know what was around that next bend of the canyon, or just past
those trees.
Mom, dad, sis, and I would go on a two week vacation every
summer, to many points across the western United States, and once
even to Tennessee, because word had it that we were somehow
descended from Andrew Jackson, that fellow on the twenty dollar bill.
When they were young, mom and dad once visited Death Valley on a
1947 Harley, consequently getting hooked on the terrain, so the family
went there from time to time through the years. My most recent visit
was in 2009, when I set out from Oregon on a tricycle to go there and
talk about one of my Death Valley books. Oops, tricycles again. Back to
the author spiel. So what was my former life like?
The school years were pretty mundane, laced occasionally with
episodes of pure terror when I had to get up and give a report to the
class, or the gym teacher would have us all do a pull-up test. Gary
States was the class stud, and could do 31 pull-ups at a crack. I was the
class slug, and could only do one with every ounce of strength in me. I
was always the last guy picked for gym teams. Embarrassing!
The class bully, Bob Fredericks, sensing my weakness, shallow
ego, and mental vulnerability, continually teased me, called me names,
put gum in my hair, or tripped me. He was a skinny guy with a face that
resembled John Kerry, but he scared the daylights out of me. Near the
end of my senior high school year, Bruce Hueners, a star on the varsity
football team, introduced me to weight lifting. Motivated by immature
hostility towards Bob for years of imbecilic transgressions against me, I
dove into the weights with a vengeance, and within a few years, Charles
Atlas would have been proud. Weakling to bodybuilding muscle-head,
my formerly fragile ego was clearly growing out of control.
These were the beginnings of my nearly endless college years,
through which I studied journalism, photography, criminal justice,
communications, and how to be a school teacher. Never one to get stuck
in any particular subject too long, a well-rounded education made it into
my skull over time. I ended up with ten colleges and universities in my
resume, went from my former C+ grades to Summa Cum Laude and the
National Dean's List, and eventually realized that was enough of
proving myself in educational settings. After all, when was I ever going
to live life itself, rather than always just preparing for it?
Regarding careers, dentistry originally was on my mind, as my
childhood dentist was a cool guy I really respected. I wasn't smart
enough for medical school though. Then, mining engineering popped up
since I loved to explore old mines in the Mojave Desert, and my dad
thought there might be a match. I wasn't smart enough for engineering
school either - quit after first semester. Okay, dad was a journalist, so
next I entered journalism school - now that I got (althouhg if you find
an typos I mised in this boook, you may wander).
Then on to photography school, which I loved. Bought my first
Hasselblad camera back in the days when they had this ancient method
of image capture that required a messy thing called film. Learned all
about darkroom processing too. When I began to doubt my ability to
actually "earn" a living with cameras, I switched gears again and joined
a law enforcement agency so I could help people in distress (most of
my peers joined so they could throw bad guys in the slammer). What a
head-trip it was to carry a gun and badge at that age. I don't own any
guns anymore 'cause I don't need to kill anybody nowadays, but I still
have a badge with my name on it (great for getting out of speeding
tickets, but now that my only vehicle is a trike, top speed is too slow to
worry about citations anyway).
For a several years in the eighties, I owned and operated Globe
Gym, not far from the Burbank movie studios. It was a small coed
fitness center where I really got into helping my 425 members with
their fitness goals. It wasn't uncommon for some of the members to
share their life problems with me, apparently feeling that since they
trusted their bodies to my care that the mind was a natural extension. A
few said I should have gone into the ministry, or become a spiritual
teacher. Guess my advice must have had some merit at least. I've
always loved to help people, bring a smile to their face, and share my
knowledge and whatever wisdom was in stuck in my head.
Epiphany struck me after 13 years working at cop shops, and I
decided rather than arresting folks after they had already entered a
socially unacceptable line of work, I'd help them out as kids before they
even got to that point. So, into elementary education I went, teaching
the adults of tomorrow. Some pretty good perks came with the territory
too ... like summer summer vacations! Never got that as a cop.
During the teaching years, I was introduced to windsurfing, an
adrenaline charged sport of racing across the top of water, powered only
by the invisible air. I liked it even better than downhill skiing because
there were never any lift lines, so it was continuously full throttle as
long as the wind kept blowing. Of course, that was part of the problem
with this activity, and time was always spent sitting on the beach
waiting for the next big blow. Trikes never need wind!
I lived in southern California for the first 31 years of my life,
but remedied that mistake once my brilliant mind figured out there were
big mountains in a state called Colorado. One of my duties while there
was the county Search & Rescue (SAR) director, coordinating county,
state, and military field rescue operations. People are continually lost
(in more ways than one), so they needed a guy to go find them,
preferably alive. Our motto was: "Support Search & Rescue - Get
Lost". Also, I made a home at 9,000 feet in the wilderness, suffered
irreparable brain damage from the thin air, jeeped all over the old
mining roads, climbed 14,309 foot peaks, and shoveled four feet of
snow each morning during the winter in temps that dipped to 40 below.
What an experience - so fantastic I would have been happy to die there.
Didn't work out that way though.
I'm still alive, but now living at sea level on the Oregon coast.
Brain functioning has improved with the heavy salt air. This is an
exciting place too, especially when 9-point earthquakes hit and 50 foot
tsunamis race onshore. Always something to keep me on my toes! My
current dwelling is one mile from the beach. To the west are 5,000 miles
of ocean and then Japan. To the south are 9,000 miles of ocean and then
Antarctica. Above are 93 million miles of space and then the sun. So
my triking is limited to some extent in the directions I can ride. That's
okay however, because the trike can take me anywhere inland I have the
spunk to venture.
During my earlier years of working out, I thought that I needed
up to 400 grams of animal based protein daily to build a strong body.
Well, the notion worked all right, but in the ensuing decades, I came to
realize that functional longevity and overall health were more important
than just being the biggest baddest guy pumping iron. Overloading the
body like that would not get me to 122 years. Now, after 20 years of
bodybuilding competition and 42 years of weight and aerobic training,
my nutritional intake is predominantly vegan - organic and locally
grown whenever possible. Other than an occasional meal that includes a
small portion of salmon for the omega-3 fatty acids, I eat no animals or
anything that is excreted from them, such as eggs, milk, or cheese.
Additional omega-3s find their way into me from plant based sources
such as flax, but the ALA form is not efficiently converted to the EPA
and DHA forms used by my body, thus the salmon supplementation.
I probably shouldn't get too far off on a nutritional tangent here,
lest I end up writing a whole new book about fitness and longevity, so
suffice it to say that some of my food includes: blueberries, oatmeal,
soy products like tempeh, beans, brown rice, plenty of fresh vegetables,
lots of fruit, and many other wonderful items from the plant kingdom.
Avoided at all costs are genetically modified organisms (GMO). I eat as
close to nature as possible, never drinking fruit juices, as that overworks
and ultimately burns out the pancreas - eat the fruit instead.
C
ommercial gyms no longer get any money from me. I work
out at home, three days per week for just over one hour. Multiple times
daily, when I walk up the stairs to my work area, I take them three at a
time, further strengthening the body. I prefer to be in motion, to use the
body so as not to lose it. At this writing, I've been riding a trike for a
couple of years, which has greatly supplemented my walking. No
longer owning a car provides many excellent benefits, not only for my
personal health, but also that of the air I breathe each day. Trikes are so
much fun that it doesn't even seem like routine exercise.
I also live close to nature, as I am part of the natural world. My
control-happy ego insists I am separate from everyone else and my
environment, but such is not the case. My ego exists to make sure I am
always right, my thoughts are always the best ... at the expense of other
humans. These thoughts, based on the totality of my past experiences
and conditioning in life, are essentially unconscious, and when I
identify with them, I become shallow and unaware, stuck in the daily
machine of rote existence.
My ego provides me plenty of ingrained images about who I
am, and I have been using those past ideas in this chapter when relating
me to you. Is this what and who I am? No. Most of what I have said
here is from another time, which does not exist now. Remaining in the
present moment, free from passing judgments on people or events, and
free of resisting that which is, now is me. What I do to others or my
planet, I also do to myself. If I poison my air, I poison myself. If I make
someone else sad, I make myself sad. I wish to be an ambassador of
human harmony, bringing smiles to all, while helping folks see there are
alternatives to what we believe life is. Idealistic? Sure, but it's my way!
I watch a world about me that falls yet deeper into the clutches
of power and greed, fueled by the lust for almighty currency. I see
governments corruptly run by corporations, soothing the citizenry into
believing democracy is at work. I view electricity producing paradigms
that fail repeatedly over the decades and fill the Earth's habitats with
deadly radioactivity, leaving a world where there are no longer any safe
havens. I learn of the latest religious mayhem carried out in the name of
jealous deities, an egoic universal human mindset that hasn't changed
for countless centuries. I wonder if the blindness will ever see a light.
On a planet with finite resources, a collective measurement of
societal success that is based on materialistic consumption is ultimately
self destructive. Our personal egos are out of control in our need for
more, better, and faster, and thus our collective ego has become an
invisible selfish prison that perpetuates suffering. "Our country is the
best." "Our deity is the only one." "God bless America" I hear. Why not
sanctify the entire population of humans? What about all of life? Our
ego centered mindsets have sadly separated us from "the other" and
dehumanized any not the same as ourselves. It makes us feel safe, yet
it's not true. We are not better than others. We are all one.
I also see hope in a growing universal awareness of enlightened
folks who are becoming wise to the fact that the status quo isn't
working for us, an increasing number of people who know our ways
will not sustain not only our species, but all the others of this planet.
These are genuine people who step away from who they have
traditionally perceived themselves to be, have stripped away all the
egoic stories our thoughts would have us believe, and in that state of
presence, are moving towards an awareness of life itself. They are
seeing that life includes everything in our natural world, from rocks and
animals to sky and space. There is an interconnectedness of all things,
and these new ambassadors of universal peace and harmony each take
their little steps, which feed into the new collective of hope.
Perhaps I've taken my writing too far today. Perhaps I have
made some folks uncomfortable. Who wants their boat rocked when
they have fancy houses, fast cars, big incomes, and glorious heaven? I
have personally gone through a ten year period of acute psychological
unrest in this process, for it requires a hard look at self, and a
determination of whether my actions and thoughts are for "ME" or for
the greater good of all life (of which I am but a minuscule part).
Breaking free of the ego's iron grip is the most challenging worthwhile
thing I can be doing. I am proceeding through my metamorphosis as an
evolving being, and am now entering the most exciting time of my life,
despite the fact that my financial situation would likely be wholly
unacceptable to nearly everyone reading these words today.
I named this book Free on Three, pointing towards the freedom
of the open road on a trike. Freedom is a wonderful thing. How about
freedom from money, greed, power, and ego too? The trike allows me
physical freedom to silently move through the countryside, and also a
time of being in the here and now, where my spirit can better assess life
and my part of it. To break free of that which we believe we need to
survive is not easy, yet for me, the rewards have been unimagined, and
are continuing to unfold every day. In 2008 I sold my final petroleum
powered vehicle to better meld with Earth, and now see it as a symbolic
measure that foretold my ever widening transition in life itself.
So there you have it! The tip of the Wild Steve iceberg. More
than you bargained for in a book about human powered recumbent
tadpole tricycles, I would imagine. Well, it was the trike that further
defined aspects of what I've discussed here, so it's all interrelated.
There are two sentiments that have long spoken to my essence.
"If you're not living on the edge, you're taking up too much space."
Yep, sure enough, I'm out on that edge now, and with writings like this,
am only going farther out. Yet I like it out here. I find a more peaceful
realm out past the mass of society. "Only those who risk going too far
will discover how far they can go." Some may likely insist I've gone
way too far in this chapter - their egos erecting impenetrable defenses
they cannot see. In days past, I would have reacted the same way. I'm
risking going too far, and the benefits are incredible. This journey has
begun, and the grand adventure awaits at every turn! Like on a trike ...
