Last day of August. As good a reason as any to go for a bike ride.
Got a new packable camp chair. So I headed out to test it. I tested it for over an hour at this very spot. I slipped off my Crocs and put my bare feet in the cool dirt while sitting in this chair. It felt nice – I felt, connected. The wind blew nicely in the trees as the sun went in and out of the clouds. The Nashwaak River sparkled. A whole flock of Canada Geese came in and landed down in the field and hung out for a bit. Until a person and a dog came walking along. Then there was copious honking. Then the dog went for ‘em and they all took off. Silly dogs. Two different Bald Eagles circled over head – one so close I was kinda freaked out – then they wafted to and fro on the winds and headed up river effortlessly. Yup, chair works pretty good.
Went for a ride in my ‘backyard’ the other day. Still conflicted about seeing trees bulldozed to build houses. I realize my hypocrisy of course – they bulldozed trees to build my house, but I wasn’t here for it.
It’s less expensive and easier to go in and mow everything down and build, it will grow back to some extent. Still, I wish people were willing to pay the difference and make the effort to cut selectively, build and haul materials on-site in a less-invasive, more sustainable manner.
I sat for quite a while on one cleared spot on the ridge, just listening.
I posted this quip on the Corrective Action Bicycle Club Instagram account:
One day, this will be the backyard to someone’s very expensive house. For now, I will enjoy the view while I’m able. Later, when their house is finished and they’re moved in, I will ride by on the street in front and giggle knowing I was here. Then I’ll ride down to the road on the flats there where I’ve been riding for years and wave up at them. They’ll be all, “Hey, what’s that guy waving at? I dunno, but have the butler bring me another white wine spritzer, chop chop!” My back yard (and apparently my head) is a magical place, and the bike gets me there. Note to self: come back here soon for #coffeeoutside and perhaps to catch a sunrise/sunset. What’s in your backyard? Perhaps go and see. Take your bike for sure.
Thoughts all over the place and kept hitting roadblocks with work, so went out to spin the wheels in the oppressive heat to reset things. They’re putting a subdivision in on the ridge behind my house that overlooks the river flats. Some folks will have some very nice – albeit probably pricey – views. Kind of bums me out that the woods I’ve rolled around in for years will soon be populated. Fully aware of my hypocrisy, it bums me out see them mulching full grown trees to clear lots. Sigh. Progress.
Rolled around the ‘Backyard’ a bit. No one had eaten my Twizzler, so I did.
Busted out for a quick coffee along the river.
Got out for a ride in the backyard. It not all glamour and scenic vistas. Picked up a bunch of trash as well. People are dumb.
Out on a ride in my local and along the ATV trail someone had cleared a chunk of trees to provide access to a natural spring via a pipe. There was a rather nice ceramic mug on a post, presumably for passerby. Someone had taken the time and effort to set this up running off of what is definitely private property. What. A. Rad. Thing. To. Do. I wanted to write a note to say thanks, but didn’t have anything with me. I had my last Richard Sachs Twizzler with me, so I left that as a trail mojo offering to the spring owner, or next passerby. Enjoy, random person. The Universe has got you.
Waiting out the rain. For real, not a metaphor. Though sometimes in the metaphoric sense too. And that’s ok. “It can’t rain all the time.”
I’ve been riding on these river flats behind my house for 10 years. First time there’s been a no trespassing sign here. Conflicted. Want to respect the owner’s property but kind of bummed as well. I try to think of it from the perspective of if I had a bunch of land that people used. I’ve always tried to be respectful when on others’ property. I even pick up trash when I find it and cart it out. Will see what becomes of this.