A river cruise down the Yangtze–something I never could have imagined in my wildest childhood dreams! The Yangtze was in my geography and history books; a faraway place that seemed like another planet.  Who could have imagined that someday I’d be cruising down this historical river?

Now if it were Dave taking this trip, he’d want to sail down the river in a sampan Chinese Junk boat with a boatload of old, chain-smoking, toothless Chinese men.  Me?  A little comfort doesn’t hurt the experience!

We had been told that the view had drastically changed due to the purposeful flooding of the Yangtze River to prepare for the construction of the Three Gorge’s Dam and that the Gorges had lost most of their charm. But as we cruised away from the dock and the muddy waters of the Yangtze, we were pleasantly surprised to see the water color changing to a beautiful green and were wonderfully impressed by the dramatic vistas before us. There was no mistaking we were in China with the little villages dotting the mountainsides and the farmers along the riverside wearing modernized coolie hats.

I spread Dave’s ashes in a unique and beautiful place; the Wu Gorge at Goddess Peak.  It is a very well-known and starkly beautiful rock formation in the Yangtze River / Three Gorges.  As I sprinkled his ashes, I was once again overwhelmed to be in such an exotic place for Dave…in the green, green, waters of the Yangtze River in the middle of China! Of course, during the course of cruising along this area, several black butterflies flitted by.

There’s a myth that the Goddess watches over the boatmen on the river. Maybe now she’ll also watch over Dave.
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The Great Wall of China!  I can’t believe I actually completed the journey that Dave and I planned to do together.  Of course, his idea of traveling in China included trekking through the country and maybe staying awhile to teach English.  I said (tongue in cheek with a heavy sigh) “Sure Dave, that’s a great idea.  If something happened to you, I’d never know it.  Why not settle on just traveling there first.”  I told Dave that he was the reason I had most of my gray hair!  “Ya gotta live, Ma.  Ya gotta experience stuff.”

So, I went to China, but forging ahead alone in such a foreign country was not in the cards for me.  Sorry, Dave, but I had to take a tour for this one.

In my journal, I wrote, “As we neared the entrance to The Wall, I felt the emotions get the best of me–like when we approached Mt. McKinley.  Dave was supposed to make these trips and it just really hurts that I am seeing these spectacular places and it should be Dave; not me.  He’s the one who had such plans to travel the world.  I know he looked forward to this trip because he mentioned it to his friends and even, Jess, his buddy on the Survival Course.  I sure hope he was sitting on my shoulder!”

It wasn’t easy to climb The Wall. I huffed and puffed as I climbed the steep steps (and this was the “Easy Route!)  Part of the problem is that the steps differ in height so it throws off your cadence whether you’re going up or down.

There were other beautiful places in China where I sprinkled Dave’s ashes, but The Great Wall was the most special. 

It was something we planned to do together.
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The storm clouds gathered as we headed north for our visit to the Giant’s Causeway; not just the usual passing shower kind of clouds, but the I’m-sticking-around type of rain clouds. We had been hoping for beautiful snapshots and now the rain was going to take all the pop out of our pictures. I should have known by now that Ireland weather likes to play with you–sunny, rainy, sunny, rainy. And that’s what happened again! We walked in the rain for awhile and then the sun came out with double-decker rainbows. Everything was fresh and green and brilliant!

The Causeway is an amazing rock formation along the shore. The rock columns are the result of an ancient volcanic eruption. The sea “instantly” cooled the rocks into their current hexagonal shape. From a distance they appear to be cigarettes standing on end. As unusual and striking as the formation is, we found the surrounding area to be even more beautiful and awe-inspiring. It had it all; the angry sea crashing on the rocks, the calm blue coves with the sea gently lapping the shore, the sheer cliffs, and the expansive green pastures with cattle, sheep and horses. It had been as spectacular as Mt McKinley—just in a different way.

It was a magnificent place to once again spread some of Dave’s ashes.

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In researching for the most interesting places to visit in No. Ireland, I ran across the website for the Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge.  The pictures of it were beautiful, but it definitely caused my stomach to flip at the thought of whether I could actually cross this rope bridge, which is almost 100 feet above the rocky, angry waves below.

The hike to the bridge was beautiful in itself, but as we rounded the bend to see the rope bridge, Rob, Bob, Jan, and I took a few deep, nervous breaths before we headed to the bridge.  We were a bit (actually, MORE than a bit) concerned because we had been told that the wind was very strong that day and the bridge could possibly be closed if the winds increased.  Seeing the swaying bridge caused some people to change their minds at the last minute.  But we anxiously moved on.

We had to carefully place one foot in front of the other while tightly holding the rope railings.  However, I clutched Dave’s ashes in my right fist so I could only rest my fist on the rope. The wind was buffeting us tremendously.  Once over the water, I opened my hand and instantly clutched the railing.  How exhilarating once we reached the other side!  The view was indescribable–the blue, blue water, the clear blue sky, wildflowers growing on the cliff sides.  The only problem was we had to walk back. Gulp!

We were told that sometimes people finally make it across and were so frightened that they wouldn’t walk back so boats had to be sent to the island to pick them up.  If we had done that, Dave would’ve hung his head in shame at such a “wussie” family.

Friends exclaimed, “What, are you crazy!!  You wouldn’t catch me doing that.”  I can only recall how many times I said those words to Dave. 

Well, Dave, I hope we did you proud.

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After the wonderful McAteer reunion, we spent our remaining days in No. Ireland discovering some of the most beautiful places. Among the things we wanted to do was to hike — at least once– in the Mourne Mountains, but we didn’t have a clue where to start. 

When the owner of the cottage heard our plight, his twenty-something daughter (who RUNS in the mountains) offered to be our guide to discover Slieve Martin in Rostrevor Forest.  (Dave would have approved of our guide.)

As we climbed past Fiddler’s Green, where music festivals are held, it began to rain–of course!  A day without rain in Ireland would be a miracle. But when the sun does come out, you realize that it’s worth a little rain to get the most amazing rainbows and the greenest of green landscapes.

As we reached the Cloughmore Stone, the sun came out. (Our “angels” were once again watching out for us!)  It was a beautiful view of Carlingford Lough with the Republic of Ireland on the far shore.  But the most beautiful part of this spot was the mountainside of different shades of violet heather.  It was absolutely spectacular and soooo Irish!!  There also was the amusing tale of how the rock arrived at this spot; the giant, Finn McCool, tossed the rock at his enemies and this is where is landed.

It was here in fields of heather and fragrant wildflowers of fireweed and milkweed that I sprinkled Dave’s ashes near a smaller rock off the path; a spot worthy of Dave.

We continued climbing amongst oak, ash, cypress, douglas fir, and hemlocks. In the open fields, the subtle heather was everywhere creating beautiful splashes of violet.

We climbed and rested and climbed and rested some more until we reached the top.  The winds buffeted us every which way, but the climb was definitely worth the view before us…a patchwork of little Irish towns and rolling hills.  At the peak is where Dave’s ashes were swept from my hand by the wind.  They literally took flight in every direction.

As we headed down the mountain, we were mesmerized by the brilliant green that surrounded us.  There were immense beds of clover and ferns. Even  some the tree trunks were covered in green moss.   With these surroundings, I half-expected a leprechaun to jump out at us.  It was a surreal  descent.

The winds of Ireland may have taken Dave’s ashes wherever it wanted, but no matter where they landed, I guarantee it was a beautiful place

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The McAteer Reunion was something I wanted to do for over ten years, but life had a way of preventing me from going to each one.

When Dave and I marched in the St. Patrick’s Parade in 2006, we talked about the next reunion and how I really wanted to go, but didn’t have anyone interested in going with me.  When Dave said he would go with me, I happily looked forward to the next reunion.  Just a few months later, Dave was gone.

The reunion was a distant thought until I started receiving information about the McAteer World Gathering to be held in Ballyholland, No. Ireland. I then sadly remembered Dave’s promise.  I was truly uplifted when Rob, Bob and Jan agreed to go along with me. now

Dave would’ve loved this trip. We stayed in a little Irish cottage on the lush, green mountainside of the Mourne Mountains; mountains that were prone to daily rainbows; many double-decker beauties.  The Sitka pine blanketed the mountainside with horses and sheep dotting the landscape. There were beautiful wildflowers everywhere.  Despite the wind and cool temperatures, the tenacious Irish butterflies would sun themselves on our windowsill like little soldiers. 

No matter where we went in the countryside, the view was amazing, but none more spectacular than our own McAteer ancestral home.  The acres and acres of rolling farmland with cows, horses,  and sheep were separated only by hedges.  I sprinkled some of Dave’s ashes in the trees a few feet from the remains of the actual foundation of the McAteer ancestral home.  This spot overlooks the enchanting view of the expansive McAteer countryside.  (See picture above)

Dave met the fun-loving McAteers in New York, but he would’ve loved them even more on their own turf.  The McAteers love to party and we all know how Dave loved to party, too!  We had many laughs with our distant cousins, but knowing how easy-to-know Dave was,  I just know he would’ve made friends for life.

When the reunion ended, we continued our travels and discovered more spectacular places for Dave.  Stay tuned for more postings.

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Dave was stationed on Andros Island, Bahamas for a year. For quite some time now, Andros had been one of the destinations I hoped to travel to remember Dave.  A short flight from Nassau, Andros is the largest island in the Bahamas, yet the least populated. The island is located near the third largest barrier reef in the world, along the Tongue of the Ocean, where depths reach 6,000 feet in certain areas. 

Since Rob had great memories of scuba diving with Dave in Greece and Dave ultimately becoming a certified diver while in the Marshall Islands, what better way to remember Dave than for Rob to place a memorial under the sea!! Rob loved the idea because it was so different from anything else we had done to remember Dave.  Rob remembered Dave saying that diving was “almost like being in space.”  

The memorial consisted of a plaque that Cori and Ara contributed, a small piece of imitation coral that Rob hollowed out to hold Dave’s ashes, and for all of Dave’s friends, Scuba Steve.  At first, Rob wasn’t too sure about the Scuba Steve addition, but afterward commented that it was a good idea and that it added a bit of humor for Dave’s friends who smile at the story.

The morning was warm and sunny as we headed out to the Elkhorn Park snorkeling/dive site.  Lorne, the master diver, accompanied Rob while videotaping the scene.  Rob swam down to the ocean floor looking for the perfect site to place Dave’s plaque, coral and Scuba Steve.  He decided on a spot by a striking grouping of orange coral.  Rob was especially happy with the area because it is a popular dive site where many people will see Dave’s memorial.  He had to smile watching Scuba Steve “bobbin’ around down there.”  We’re sure Scuba Steve will break away and make his journey into the unknown–just like Dave.

We couldn’t leave Andros without visiting the AUTEC Naval Base where Dave was stationed.  We were fortunate that the contact person on the base remembered Dave.  Since the base is accessible only if escorted by a family member or friend, we were so grateful that Rhonda W. agreed to be our “friend” and personally give us a tour of the base.  She pointed out where Dave’s living quarters were, where he played soccer, went to the movies, and the beach he most likely wrote his poem, CROSSROADS. It was great seeing where Dave lived during his tour.  But most importantly, knowing that Rhonda remembered Dave “as being a friendly guy who always had a smile and was always willing to do what was needed to be done” meant the world to me.  They were sorry that he was leaving at the end of his tour.  Being that AUTEC is a restricted base, we were unable to take pictures, but that’s ok, because the pictures are permanently etched in my memory.

Well, our mission was accomplished.  It was time to leave.  We once again said our good-byes to Dave as we left a little bit of Dave under the sea off Andros Island.  I always blink back the tears as each new place falls in the distance.  I am so proud of doing this ‘for Dave,’ but I know I’m also doing it for me.  There are no goodie cartons to mail, Christmas and birthday gifts that I can give.  There’s no helping hand that I can extend to him.  There’s just these special ways I can remember him.  It helps me.  It makes me feel like I’m doing “something.”  I don’t know what else I can do.  There are over 20 places where we’ve “remembered Dave” and we’ve only just begun. 

Dave, are you watching?

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We are always trying to think up new and unusual ways to remember Dave so when Dave’s Aunt Jan and Uncle Bob suggested geocaching, we basically said, “Huh? What’s that?”

After a brief discussion to pique my interest, they sent me to the website www.geocaching.com where I learned that “Geocaching is a high-tech treasure hunting game played throughout the world by adventure seekers equipped with GPS devices.  The basic idea is to locate hidden containers, called geocaches, outdoors (anywhere in the world) and then share your experiences online.  Geocaching is enjoyed by people from all age groups, with a strong sense of community and support for the environment.  There are 1,111,199 active caches and an estimated 4-5 million geocachers worldwide.”

From my understanding, a member can locate caches by going to the website, entering a destination (city, country, etc.) and all caches within a certain radius will pop up.  Once the cache is found, the registered “travel bug” is removed to continue its travel by the person who found the cache, the logbook is signed, and the cache is returned to the exact spot for the next person to find.  Most people leave a token, such as a special coin or another “travel bug”, in the cache.  A message that the cache was found is then logged onto the site.

One of the caches that pop up for Andros Island is Dave’s LIFE IS GOOD travel bug.  This is what Jan wrote on the site:

“CURRENT GOAL: To travel internationally all over the world and all 50 states

LIFE IS GOOD is a celebration of Dave Buschow’s amazing life.  In his 29 short years, he lived his life to the fullest.  After serving in the Air Force for 4 years, he became an independent contractor working for overseas companies.  One of his year tours was on Andros Island, Bahamas, where we will start this TB’s journey.  He learned the balance between traveling and having adventures, to maintaining all his relationships with family and friends. ‘To a life that accepts Nature’s hand in sculpting an individual expression. Nothing is exempt. From the mellifluous rhythm and tone of the wind chime, to the transitional form of the cloud. Nothing exists alone.  All things thrive and whither in confluence with one another.  So it is; the paradox of our divinity.’  Dave Buschow–www.rememberdave.net”

Our recent trip to Andros Island in the Bahamas was Dave’s first cache.  We rode and walked our bikes up a very rocky trail.  A short distance off the path is where we found someone else’s cache.  We deposited Dave’s “travel bug” and general info and headed back.  Since it took over a year for the cache to be found by us, we thought it would be quite some time before Dave was on the move again.  But lo and behold, only three weeks later, it was discovered–coincidentally by someone visiting AUTEC.  Here is the message from the fellow who found it. 

“6/11/10 retrieved from Sunset View-Bahamas

I found this during some free time during my stay at AUTEC.  I will take it with me to the states when I return in a couple weeks. This was a great little hike to a scenic bay lookout.  Though the sun wasn’t shining when I got there, rain had started to fall, the ending was beautiful and the hike was great.  I knocked this cache out, along with the Rainbow Blue Hole, on the same day.  Many thank yous to the crew at Small Hope Bay Lodge for placing the cache.  I took the LIFE IS GOOD TB (travel bug) with plans of getting it back to the states.”

Thanks to Bob and Jan for knowing how important it is to me to find new and creative ways to keep Dave’s story alive and to allow him to continue his travels.

What’s Dave’s next destination?  We’ll keep you posted!!

The last large purchase Dave made was in Feb. 2006. It was his snowboard; an Arbor Element 62. He admitted it was much too expensive, but said it would probably be the last snowboard he would ever buy so he wanted it to be a good one. (I still don’t know why he said it would be his last!) He was so excited to try it out.  After his first and only trip using the board, he returned confident that his purchase was the right one.  He said,  “It was “really awesome, Ma, and definitely worth the dough.”  After his death, Rob made it a point to take snowboarding lessons so he could put Dave’s board to good use.  He knew that’s what Dave would want.  Once he had a few lessons under his belt, we planned a family trip of skiing and snowboarding.  Dave’s cousin, Mike, wrote this amazing letter after the trip.

“This past winter of 2010 was very special. I had the opportunity to spend time with my family on a vacation to Shawnee Ski Resort. It was a great trip. My 7 year old son Daniel had his first lesson in skiing and turned out to be quite good for his first time. I was very proud of him and seeing him flying down the mountain was a moment I will never forget. I am sure Dave would have said something to the effect of “Skiing! What do you think about just getting him right on a board and not wasting time with skiing.” The thought definitely crossed my mind as I walked into the rental shop. Well, I ended up getting him skis to start with since that was how I started when I was his age. I could picture Dave’s expression. He would have had that little smirk on his face that we all know and miss.

Being with everyone in our family always reminds me of Dave. But snowboarding especially reminds me of him. As everyone knows, Dave LOVED snowboarding! He was very good on a board. I think his style was similar to the way he lived his life. He was very smooth, controlled, humble and fearless. Dave made snowboarding look easy. He was a natural for sure! He was capable of pushing the envelope when he wanted to and aggressively taking off like a rocket down the mountain or just peacefully carving his way down. Never trying to be the best or prove anything, just enjoying it with no ego trip or competition with who he was with. He was hands down the best person to be on a trip with, or really to do anything with. He is my cousin and my best friend. I miss him so much.

I have been snowboarding for about 15 years or so. I started out skiing when I was young with my parents and brother. Snowboarding wasn’t really around or popular yet. In the early years of High School I was still on skis. That is until I went on a trip to Vermont with Dave and my brother Chris sometime around 1993 I think. It was a great time, full of the usual family jokes and screwing around like a bunch of idiots. I’ll leave the details out. Chris: I know your laughing right now. I can’t help but laugh even though the tears are rolling down my face as I type this. I miss him so much. It feels like yesterday that we were there. Chris and I were skiing and Dave was ripping it up on a board, never afraid to try something new. And he was ripping it for sure! Holy crap!!!!! He made it look so fun that I had to try it. He encouraged me to try boarding, which I soon did, and fell in love with it. Ever since then I’ve snowboarded. Dave was my inspiration for converting. I always think of him when I board. I even have dreams often that we are together on the mountain once again. He usually rides off into the distance looking back at me with that smile. I just can’t keep up. And I also cannot keep up with living my life as good as he did. I’m trying my hardest. It has been hard for me to deal with this. Everyday it is natural occurrence that I think of Dave. I miss him so much.

During the trip to Shawnee Mountain I was presented with an opportunity to spread Dave’s ashes. Aunt Pat and Rob were very kind to ask me to spread some of Dave’s ashes on the mountain. To be in another place that he loved. This was such an honor for me, and another experience from the trip that I will cherish for the rest of my life. Dave was with me. I could feel his spirit all around me the entire trip. I’m sure that everyone else felt him. That feeling was very strong as I held his ashes. One that I cannot deny being real. He was undoubtedly with me.

I sat up on the top of the trail and strapped into my bindings. Rob wanted to take some pictures so he was waiting for me at a predetermined spot further down the trail. We agreed that actually snowboarding while I spread his ashes would be the best way to honor him. Unfortunately I was going a bit too fast and it was getting dark so the picture isn’t very clear. But, nonetheless, it still was successful in my opinion. Before I pushed off down the trail I took some time while I was alone with Dave. This was by far the most eye opening experience of my entire life. That moment has proved to me that the soul goes on. I spoke to him and told him some things from my heart that I will keep between us. I thanked him for all he taught me through his life and his death. I KNOW that Dave heard every word of it. It was a moment alone with him just like the moment that we had the last time I saw him. It’s hard for me to explain but I heard his words in my heart. I also heard something that I had heard him say to me many times before. These words …….. COME HERE CUZ…BIG HUG. I visualized this being accompanied by our usual handshake hug with a double slap on the back for good measure. I miss that hug. I miss Dave. It was just the two of us on that mountain. It was a moment that I get chills from every time I think of it. I felt a change in me that evening. I felt something move in me, like a puzzle piece that I couldn’t figure out where it went, and it was put into place. I’ve never told anyone this.

Dave, thank you. I hope I can be half the man you are. I hope that I can make you proud of me. I LOVE YOU CUZ!!!!….BIG HUG !!!!! That was the last thing you ever said to me. Those words will be with me forever. I miss you so much.”

Thank you, Mike, for such a wonderful heartfelt letter; one that brings tears to my eyes each time I read it.

When Rob and I visited UT in 2008, we made it a point to meet with a representative from the Forest Service, Kurtis R, District Ranger of the Fremont River Ranger Division with the sole purpose of expressing our gratitude for the kind, professional, and diligent manner in which the investigation was conducted after Dave’s death.  We expressed our wish to remember Dave somewhere in the vicinity and asked for any suggestions he might have. 

We drove to the Homestead Overlook where Kurtis explained that a restoration project was underway with the Hwy 12 Committee and interpretive panels would be erected explaining the spectacular view ahead.  We pondered whether this could be used to somehow remember Dave being acutely aware that the tone must be appropriate to the setting.

After numerous e-mails with John H, Chairman of the Hwy 12 Committee, everyone agreed that Dave’s Wind Chimes poem was perfect for the sign.  This couldn’t have made me happier!  Now anyone who views this amazing panorama, will read Dave’s words. (Double click on the photo to enlarge.)

I needed a bit more description of the sweeping vista than the signs could provide with their limited space. So I reached out to Laurel H.; someone who knows the area like the back of her hand and  has an amazing knack with words.  My simple request of, “I would love to hear if you have any personal impressions about the area.” was met with this amazing portrait of words:

“Homestead Overlook is located in the middle of a grassy meadow on the shoulder of the Aquarius Plateau, aka Boulder Mountain, 9000 ft above sea level.  In June the meadow beyond the placard bearing Dave’s poem is a sea of bright yellow dandelion blossoms.  I’ve brewed batches of dandelion wine from flowers collected there.  In certain seasons, deer and elk can often be seen in these meadows.  Above and below, the Overlook is surrounded by stands of quaking aspen, or Populus tremuloides —easy to remember because of how aspen leaves “tremble” in the slightest breeze.  And beyond the aspen to the limits of the horizon, there is the desert.  As Wallace Stegner describes this landscape: ‘It is lovely and terrible wilderness, such as wilderness as Christ and the prophets went out into; harshly and beautifully colored, broken and worn until its bones are exposed, its great sky without a smudge of taint from Technocracy, and in hidden corners and pockets under its cliffs the sudden poetry of springs.’

From Homestead you can see the flat top of Long Neck mesa, covered with pinon and juniper.  Deer Creek flows to the west of Long Neck.  Dave’s group camped near Deer Creek and traversed Long Neck west to east.  East of Long Neck is Slickrock Canyon, which is separated by a steep ridge from Cottonwood Canyon and Dave’s Cave.  This ridge is capped with a white checkerboard of Navajo Sandstone–the stuff on all the postcards from Zion National Park–littered with basalt boulders.  Near the cave grows Indian paintbrush, Box Elder and Cottonwood trees, and spicy wild onion.

In the distance to the east of the Henry Mountains loom; they were the last mapped mountain range in the lower 48. On the horizon to the west is the striated face of 50-Mile Mountain, or the Kaiparowits Plateau.  It runs from Escalante southwards all the way to the Colorado River and Navajo Mountain, which is in Arizona and clearly visible from Homestead Overlook.  On sunrise on clear days, sometimes you can see as far as Monument Valley and the La Sal Mountains near Moab.

‘But those who haven’t the strength or youth to go into it and live can simply sit and look.  They can look two hundred miles…they can also look as deeply into themselves as anywhere I know.  And if they can’t even get to the places on the Aquarius Plateau where the present roads will carry them, they can simply contemplate the idea, take pleasure in the fact that such a timeless and uncontrolled part of earth is still there.’ – Wallace Stegner:”

Thank you, Laurel, for painting such a beautiful picture in our minds!

Dave’s poetic words echo over the land that he described in his one-and-only journal entry as, “f-n awesome!”

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