The Missus finished a batch of masks for a coworker so at lunch today I decided to hop on the Cross Check to deliver them to the office. I looked out the window and saw the sun, but it was deceptive – it was really cold out with the wind. Got to the office and was happy get my hands under some hot water in the sink to warm them up a bit. Whew but it stung though. Remember to check the wind chill, kids.
I took this photo and then on the way home was wondering if I’d ever had this bike out in January before. Dug back through the ride logs and photos and only found one other time back on January 26, 2019. I’d say it was global warming, but it was still damn cold today, even though we haven’t had much snow this year.
Was nice to spin the skinny tires on the ‘fast’ bike for the first time in a long time. Here’s the snaps from the ride in 2019.
The Cross Check remains the most versatile bike in the stable.
Got out for the usual weekend ride. Some beavers had felled a tree across the trail, so I followed their drag marks down to the river and sat there for a bit. Took a bunch of pictures at few minute intervals of the same ridge of trees trying to catch the sun lighting them up. Did some yoga and stretching in-between. The little white speck in the bottom left corner of the photos that looks like dirt is a reflection of the Moon in the river. Then basically followed the sun coming up down the Nashwaak River to the Saint John before meeting up with Titus for a trip out to Oromocto and back. Post-ride root beer in the Clubhouse was sublime.
Universal Truth #1,437: when you are chasing the sun coming up down the Nashwaak River to its confluence with the Saint John, it really doesn’t matter that you never get to know who wins. (Note: Your results may vary. Can be applied to other rivers, trails, alleys. Test on a piece of scrap wood to ensure desired results. Offer not valid with any other offer. Proof of purchase required. Don’t try this at home, use only in a well ventilated area and only under hip-hop supervision. -Ed.)
Got out to meet Titus for a ride today. On my way I stopped on the walking bridge across the Nashwaak River to watch for a bit and I was talking to myself as I usually do. I was actually talking out loud, so people – if there were any around – could’ve heard me. Then it occurred to me that I had no idea ‘who’ was talking. I don’t know who was talking really, or whom that person was talking to. Who was even listening? Who is the person hearing it? Sam Harris tells a funny story about this. When we are talking to ourselves – why are we talking to ourselves? We already know what we’re thinking – why do we tell it back to ourselves?
It occurred to me that in a way, my life is like a movie that I am both the only director and only audience of. Sometimes the other actors in my movie don’t follow or respond to direction. This can equate to suffering, if you choose to let it. Or not.
The last four photos of this were a bit of an accident. I got down this hill and expected Titus to come barreling down it, which I thought would make for a great photo. He was taking forever to show up, then he appeared – walking. He’d decided to walk a tricky section.
Damn actors, not following direction. What’s one to do?