Nature is an Old Lady

Went out with @spoke_n_words this morning to get wet in the tropical rain that Hurricane Dorian has been nice enough to bring up north for us. One of my favorite quotes from Tim Krabbé’s ‘The Rider’ came to me:

“Instead of expressing their gratitude to the rain for getting wet, people walk around with umbrellas. Nature is an old lady with few suitors these days, and those who wish to make use of her charms she rewards passionately.”

Well, she rewarded us well today with one long conversation that rolled as easy as our fat wheels over rocks and roots. We mused on school systems, societal perceptions of mental health, the fruitlessness – yet imperative nature of environmental sustainability, trees as living poems, books to add to the ‘to read list and the importance of singing songs even if no one is listening.

It was so effortless that I forgot to even take a photo. Or perhaps I just didn’t want to interrupt the flow. Instead I took this one of my water bottle when I got home. Looks like I brought some of what was out there home with me. What you can’t see is the innumerable tiny microbes and molecules and mojo carried in the thick, pungent evergreen air that I drank gallons of. Microscopic nutrients that fueled my synapses, ignited nerve endings and are -as I type this – feeding my cells. Alright. You got me. I sheepishly confess. I went out this morning and got drunk on forest. And I don’t regret a thing. I made a Clubhouse Coffee when I got back to sober up – but I’m still buzzed. If I’m lucky, I’ll get to do it again tomorrow.


An Autobiographical Photo Essay in Seven Frames.

I came home from work in a foul mood, even with it being Friday. Long story. I decided to head out and get what I could pre-Hurricane Dorian. My mood didn’t improve much when:

[Frame 1] 15 minutes into my ride I was smacked with an exceptional exhibit of just how stupid we humans really are. I rode on, sulking, and had a nice climb through some sun-doppled ferns [2]

where I alternately ruminated on our eminent demise and the beauty and silence I was immersed within. I apparently was too immersed however, and missed my turn – the one that led to the panoramic view spot I was aiming for and instead dumped me at a dead end clearcut. I bushwacked sideways for 15 minutes or so through dense woods (leaving a considerable amount of leg skin in the underbrush) to a singletrack trail I was familiar with. I rode aways and managed to score an alternate panoramic view [3].

The drawback to this whole detour was having to navigate a bunch of gnarly singletrack on an entirely inappropriate bicycle for such a task, undoing all the fine work my chiropractor has done over the last 2 weeks [4,5].

I quested on to try and find the original scenic spot I’d ventured out looking for but was thwarted by poor memory and decided to bail out down a monstrous, rutted, washed-out fire road downhill [6]

that was far better suited to a bike with any suspension as opposed to none. I can still hear my tires and rims cursing me from the garage. At that point, I popped out to a nice paved ride home into the sunset [7] in time for chili-dog casserole. The. End.

Being Prepared

It’s not all fun and games in the Clubhouse. Here we see our hero running a check on the generator in preparation for whatever shenanigans Hurricane Dorian decides to throw our way. Couple of years back when Tropical Storm Arthur rolled through we were without power for almost a week. Gotta make sure the snacks in the fridge stay cold and the natives can still work their devices or they get grumpy and savage. Don’t worry, still a good chance there will be riding of bikes this weekend either way. Safety third!