Bob who

The one and only

Where Do I begin?

Bob and I met at Taos Clay about 13 years ago when I first moved to Taos. I became one of the resident artist/workers there, and Bob was a studio member. We quickly became friends, sharing a love for creativity and sense of humor, I’d say, above all. I have fond memories of him laughing, making work together, conceptualizing different ideas. He drove a red BMW convertible that he’d soon figure out fitted his stand up bass just perfectly, as he would drive to his different gigs. There was Bob, flying by in his bright red convertible with the huge stand up bass projecting out of the back seat, hair flying in the wind. I met him when he was a band member for Kathy and the Cruisers at that time, and shared his living room as the band practice space, and would often talk about his musical endeavors.

Years passed as I lived in Taos and there were times we saw each other and then didn’t. When I bartended at Tim's Stray Dog Cantina in the Ski Valley I saw him often and we also skied together. At that time he was pursuing his cure for some liver issues he’d been having. I was pursuing my nursing degree and so we would sometimes talk about that a bit.

One of the reasons Bob took me under his wing, I felt, was because I had lost my mom years ago, and her and Bob were both dental hygienists. They had similar birthdays. At least I found some way of relating this guardian-angel-ship to these coincidences but I felt Bob always looked out for me and had my back if I needed it. I recently looked back at our old Facebook messenger messages (Bob didn’t have a cell phone so this is how we often corresponded) and years ago he’d say “if you need to come by and do a load of laundry, please do”…things like that.

My absolute favorite quality about Bob that I hope to embody in my life (to his degree) is that if there was anything he wanted to do, he learned how to do it, or at least attempted. His list of talents really impresses me…from building spec houses, dental hygiene, being a single dad to an amazing daughter, windsurfing, ski instructing, skiing, welding, being a potter, an amazing musician, motorcyclist, bicyclist, creative cook, sailor, avid traveler, film (fanatic, fan), reader, gardener, rug collector, creative builder of one of a kind homes: geodesic domes, gypsy wagon, travel van, greenhouse and yurt. There was not a creative approach that Bob did not take to living. He had every kind of vehicle and vessel you could think to live in. He made every space feel like home, and so well thought out. "Mr just so” he’d call himself. Everything had its place and was appreciated all the same.

I remember one morning he walked out of his greenhouse with his moccasin slippers, his beard and long swift hair on a fall day before he left for Mexico and he said “man should not burn toast in tiny house”. And just laughed kept moving. Always working on something.

One of my favorite memories he was driving his tacoma pick up truck with this small fan mounted to the dashboard blowing his hair back. We passed some kind of nice little mini cooper car and he popped the gear of his stick shift into place, glanced at the fancy car and said “morons” and we laughed/

Bob told the funniest stories in the world. I will forever miss his anecdotes, his advice, his opinionated passions or distastes about things, his takes on life. They were always so wise, so full of truth, and even if a little too opinionated left you laughing so hard you couldn’t disagree because he found those really funny even seinfield-ish humor moments in really ordinary events.

I’m grateful I got to know Bob in the last year by not only spending time with him, but being lucky enough to live in his house. He let my son and I rent his home while he was in his last stint in Mexico on his sailboat. Bob knew I was planning to build my own home and was excited about helping me with plans. He got me an architect ruler and some stencils to help sketch up the plan. He showed me how to make the 3d rendering of my idea using cardstock and a utility knife. He taught me how to scale my plans. He began to show me how to keep it simple. By living inside the house that he created, he inspired me that it is definitely okay, and a wild benefit, to think outside the box. His living room, still my son’s favorite to this day, has a drum set and a hammock hanging from the ceiling. Can you think of a sweeter set up? His house had other fun components, like the kitchen knives slid straight down into the counter between the boards. He had a clawfoot tub in his geodesic dome amongst the banana trees. It was simple. It was efficient. Beautiful and thoughtful.

I enjoyed pulling books from Bob’s collection and browsing. I enjoyed the relaxing Shangri la energy his place had to offer. I made much pottery in his geodesic dome that fall, winter and spring. Living at Bob’s place was an inspiration to me on the daily, as it was to those that came to visit and catch a glimpse into his creative lifestyle.

I still can not believe Bob is gone, although I’m not really sure what that really means anymore because it seems like too many amazing people keep dying and I feel like they are still among us. I want to keep his legend alive through his fearless humor and fervor for life, and not being afraid to try new experiences and keep building and being creative. For that Bob has been my biggest inspiration. I surely was not ready to say goodbye to Bob, and wanted to keep learning so much more from him. Bob was such a legendary human!

I did know Bob back in high school and was involved with him in several misadventures, like that 1969 end of school year party up at Denny's cabin where, after staying up all night, I ended up in a car that was chasing him and Chris McCowan in Bob's old sports car of the time (Bob loved sports cars, particularly Triumphs) around the mesa close to the cabin.  There were two people on the hood of the car I was in, clutching the windshield wipers to stay on.  But, of course, we ended up taking a sharp turn which flung one of the guys (Chris Strome I believe) into a pinon tree, which quickly concluded that episode of giddy insanity.

It wasn't until 1975, when I joined him and Jose Elmore at Tecolote Jewelers, that we really became close friends.  I we hit the Duke City night life (Okie's, Ned's, Alfalfa's...) together regularly.  He taught me to sip my beer slowly to keep our tab low since we were always near broke back then (Bob was the king of frugality).

I had just started skiing before re-meeting Bob, so he was soon having me face slopes that were closer to cliffs than runs.  He did this by some form of deception, such as telling me he was taking me to a blue run and then, when it was all too late, he would tell me we had to ski a black to get to the blue.  Standing at the top of the black run looking down I wondered if my ski pole could be used as a murder weapon, but Bob turned to me and seriously said that the word of the day was "commit".  No matter how scary that slope appeared, I was to push off and commit to a hard turn asap to bring me to a stop.  It worked.  As soon a I realized I could keep my descent under control, my terror subsided.

We also camped and fished together.  Like Tom Sawyer (moi) and Huck Finn (Bob, of course), we once paddled a rubber raft out to an island in the middle of Cochiti Reservoir and stayed overnight.  We caught fish which we fried to Bob's delight (free food) and then drank into the night talking about all the things of interest to two guys in their early twenties.  Hiking to the warm springs in the Jemez and camping was also something we enjoyed several times.  Someone had brought guppies up sometime in the past and put them in the springs which was the perfect aquarium temperature.  It was something to lie in the water watching the guppies swim about and occasionally a fantail would pass by.

We encouraged each other to get through school .  He was in dental hygienist school at UNM and I was taking electronics at TVI.  We both made it.  I moved to Boulder with IBM and Bob moved to Taos sometime later.  We continued to keep in touch, visiting each other on a regular basis.  I got to be his best man when he married Laura.  I loved visiting them in Ranchos de Taos.  One time Chris McCowan and Nancy Fry were there when I got down and we all drove to Tres Piedras where Chris's folks had a small ranch.  We couldn't get in, so we had a hellacious snowball fight instead.  On the way back Bobby picked up a small boulder which we dropped off the Rio Grande gorge bridge - it was a sight to behold.  Sometime later at a party in Taos I related this story to someone I had just met there, and he looked at me sternly and said he often fishes just below that bridge.  I gulped and walked away sheepishly.

I took a leave of absence in 1981 and enrolled in electrical engineering at UNM.  Shortly after that Bob bought some land on the beautiful blue sage mesa NW of Taos and began to build an adobe.  I was amazed at his diligence and tenacity.  He measured the dimensions of the adobe he was renting, studied building adobes at the library and then had the foundation for the walls dug out and the necessary rebar installed and concrete poured in.  Then the fun began.  As he could afford, he bought adobe bricks from the local pueblo and started building the walls.  When I could, I would while away a day with Bob, playing in the mud, drinking beer and enjoying the view of Taos Peak.  Once it was completed, I would come up whenever school allowed to ski, party and just hang out.

Right after my graduation party in 1985, Bob went with a gang of us to Conchas Lake to water ski, fish and continue to party.  After a couple days everyone left save Bob and myself.  Bob had recently bought a VW camper bus and I had just purchased a Toyota truck and had a camper shell installed.  So it was back to being Tom and Huck.  I fished and Bob wind surfed.  He had gotten so good.  I remember looking out at the lake as a thunder storm approached and saw Bob way out in the middle riding the tempest the storm's outflow created - awe inspiring!  We stayed at the lake until I was compelled to come back and return to IBM in Boulder.

We kind of went our separate ways after that.  Bob divorced and moved away.  I was focused on my new engineering career and fishing the lakes and streams of Colorado.  Over time we would see each other again.  I hung out with him several times at his compound in Arroyo Hondo which amazed me with all the things he had going on there.  I love Bobby Pace and miss him very much.  Those 10 golden years with him are a treasure to me.  I had hoped to visit him in the near future, but as Bob's life is a testament to "seize the day" and do not wait for things to happen should have been my anthem.  Bob lived a wondrous life of his own creation.  With his passing, I hope all of his friends and loved ones can take some of his special magic with them.

I met Bob in Junior High (middle school now). We used to run a lap around the track at the beginning of PE class and at the far end of the track we would sometimes ditch into an arroyo and go down to my house and hang out. Then we would go back and blend back in with the kids as they ran a lap at the close of class.

It wasn’t that we weren’t athletic, we just didn’t like coaches and PE. I think the first time I met Bob he was giving a trampoline exhibition to the school. Bob was a terror on a trampoline…it led to a series of accidents for the rest of us.

We built a lot of things over the years. It started with a mini bike that had no brakes and no way to shut it off other than yanking the spark plug wire off, for the shock of your young life. We had some spectacular crashes.

Another middle school memory was when Mel Lavail brought chloroform to PE. We soaked the front of our tee shirts with it … quite a class. I don’t think the coaches paid much attention back then.

Final middle school memories are ski trips to Santa Fe and Sandia on the school bus. We figured out you could inject oranges with vodka with a syringe (we were always thinking). Bob learned to ski in Italy, where his dad was stationed in the Air Force. Bob taught me to ski by instructing me to go straight down until I got going pretty good, then throw my skis sideways and skid to a stop. It worked pretty well. That’s how I taught my oldest daughter Kim to ski and it worked for her too. But I’ve seen some disasters using this approach.

As we got older we continued to build things together. We built a cab-over camper when we were about 15, and that resulted in a series of trips. Later we helped each other build houses. Quite a ride. A very enjoyable ride.

High School. My god, what a time! That was the late 1960’s and things were moving kind of fast. I’m sure there were some hard times, but I don’t remember them. Our friends were a big group of very tolerant, accepting kids… they still are. So much music and great concerts!!! Some of my favorite memories with Bob were the Jemez parties at Rodgers and camping at the warm springs. Jemez provided some great memories! I remember Bob, Rod Patterson, and I driving up a few times in Rod’s black Jaguar coup that had the back lifted with large tires and chrome wheels… blasting Canned Heat “On the Road Again” on the 8-track. A lot of good stories in high school, but you kind of had to be there, and many are too incriminating to document. The parties rotating around Janet Foil’s energy were also memorable.

… And then there was the time Bob got a new hat and was cruising in his Triumph TR4 with the top down, checking out how cool he looked… and he ran into the back of a car at a stop light. The guy got out of the car walked back, took a beat, and said, Nice hat! He had been watching Bob approach in his rearview mirror.

After high school, at 18, I went to Mexico for a year of college and Bob came down for some serious adventures. We lived in the countryside of Cholula (where the hot sauce is from), between a church built on top of the largest pyramid in the world (by cubic volume) and an 18,000 foot volcano (Popocatepetl). We had a great time and made it out alive. (I posted a photo of the church and volcano on the google drive that I got from a pro.)

We followed this adventure with a trip to Columbia when we were 21. We lived for a winter in a small fishing village, Taganga. It is on the coast near Santa Marta. Its population is descendant from pirates and you could tell. We partied with the locals, ate fresh fish, and drank licuados and rum. Again we made it out alive, but Bob got encephalitis (inflammation of the brain) and it took years for him to recover. When he came back he was cooked and really into trading stuff. One night he traded his car for a bracelet to Jose when we were all living in Cedar Crest. I got mad and stormed up to Jose’s house… he defensively explained, he made me do it. He claimed, “I did it just to shut him up… I’ll give it back.”

All my next memories of Bob are in Taos. Many good memories, and many new friends. Taos Mesa action, Heron Lake camping, Bobs house building phase, then Arroyo Hondo. Many great times and I hope the Taos friends will tell a few stories. I fondly remember the Pagosa 4-Corners Folk Festival get-togethers. That was some serious fun…Taos Camp!!!! Our first time at Pagosa was when Molly was about 13 and she had recently had two 10-inch rods surgically placed in her back to correct a curve, and Dad thought camping would be the ticket. Molly had so much fun with Bob and Addie that she had a serious talk with me exclaiming with great conviction that we had to come back every year! And we did for many years.

Bob used to make me laugh so hard…and as I got older, sometimes he got me laughing so hard I would think, I got to get away, I’m going to have a heart attack. But then I’d think… other than going while making love to your better half, this might be it, so I stayed. Bob was sooo funny because it was true stuff he was sincerely thinking…things we all think but rarely say out loud. I guess that’s the key to most great comedy. Like the time Bob explained why he didn’t have a cell phone after a short trial period: nobody called him, so he got rid of it.

There are many more memories, but I think I will leave it here. I hope to read other memories from friends. This has hit me pretty hard, harder than I expected. It was just too soon! I miss you Bobby. I count myself lucky to have had Bobby as a friend for most of my life.

I’m so sorry for your loss Addie!

Canned Heat's "On the Road Again”: https://www.youtube.com/watch…