Coop's Corner: A Mix

Saturday, October 18, 2014

A Mix

Some of these odds and ends were supposed to be Posted last week. Things around here simply got busier than they needed to be, I was too distracted or possibly even slightly lazy. Let's go with all 3?? Regardless of the reason, no writing or photo uploading occurred, so new content didn't get added and the result this week is that not all of my news is fresh. Hopefully it isn't too stale.

Last Friday I carried a handsaw back up into the deep end of one of our soybean fields to trim and remove some deadfalls that had tipped into the cropland, hindering the soon to be harvest. All broken limbs gone, Wed. of this past week the beans are gone as well. The deer and turkeys have done their very best all season to take their role in harvesting and now they'll have to bend down just a bit further to continue. No problem though, there are adequate supplies down low for the remaining harvesters.

Last weekend Miss K. (Kiara) at Viking Bags asked me to inform my Blog and other riding friends that if they mention Coop's Corner, a discount will be applied to their order. My Viking Sport Tail Bag has been on most every ride lately; was last weekend and will be again today when Ben and I head out. Contact Kiara to find out more.

Saturday I made a long overdue visit to Diamond's for coffee. Early Morning Mike wasn't there so it was only slightly lonely and lots of quiet at first. The drinkers and riders did start showing up though and it was as good a session as I've attended lately. Paul and his wife arrived on their brandy new copper colored Can-Am. I'd already pushed a couple of the tables together and it didn't take very long for those 6-8 spots to be taken. Paul's wife sat down next to me, commenting "I'll stay with you guys until you start talking motorcycles." It was long past an hour later when she got up and moved over to one of the couches with her IPad. I do recall that motorcycles were discussed eventually.

Jeff finished and mounted, only the very tip of his vast sailing knowledge shared with us, coffee cup emptied and he headed for home. These two guys WERE talking motorcycles, BSA machines specifically. Railroad bridge construction continues across Central Ave.......Lucy's business has suffered during the process but we get away with some very casual and creative bike parking while Mpls artery traffic is rerouted.

Sort of a BSA I suppose, but this one from Kawasaki.

Dave's lovely Indian......

Paul and his wife finished with their coffee and further story telling....you can see the coffee hasn't stopped flowing for everyone else yet.

MY plan had been to go out for a ride on the lovely Saturday afternoon and that plan included Ben on his 'new' Repsol 600 (I still haven't tried it....today???) but upon arriving home I discovered that the family was in the midst of one of our largest housecleaning's ever! It lasted well into the evening, bridging over to Sunday morning but did NOT interfere with the back road ride that St. Paul Jim and I managed to sneak in later in the day. J.P. rode down from St. Paul and met me across the river where we hooked up, ending up down in Alma at Pier4 for lunch. It started as a bright cool day but once the clouds and stronger winds came, we very quickly lost what certainly felt like 15 degrees. Our rides home were brisk in the brisk weather and we both encountered drops of rain. No photos taken but it DID in fact happen.

Imagine me, Coop, belonging to a bicycle Blog! Yes.....it happened this week. I received an email from (motorcycle) riding friend Dave, once an almost famous bicyclist, that through some of his old contacts, he'd discovered a bicycle blog that had content I'd appreciate and be able to "use for reference." He was correct. Both he and I have already found interest and value there, primarily under the Favorite Gravel Routes heading. In fact, Dave rode one of them this week, the Filthy 50 -2013. Craziest of all, my Avatar makes it look like I truly do/can belong!

Everything I did yesterday was absolutely necessary but very boring so that won't be shared. The last couple of weeks have been almost too full. Today's intended fullness will hopefully be a couple of rides with son Ben; one pavement based (need to try that orange bike) and one a bit dustier.

We'll see what happens.

6 comments:

RichardMOctober 18, 2014 at 12:50 PM
Wow, they really have the place torn up. Is all of that just for the railroad bridge? Is the antique shop still across the street?

Now you just need to dig out the bicycle for your alternate blog...
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VStar LadyOctober 18, 2014 at 7:07 PM
Do they allow motorized vehicles on that trail?
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TrobairitzOctober 19, 2014 at 11:48 AM
Wow, you sure have been busy. And you've managed to get some riding in too.

We've been working on yard projects in between rain storms.
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Others say....

"it was auspicious to approach any situation from a deferential, inquisitive place. Conceding that there is much to learn is the best blueprint for discovering something new." ----B. Fuller

The Man straightened stiffly above the block of salt fixed to the stake and looked at the young cattle ringed about him. The pasture was holding out well and the stock was looking good. This bunch would be ready to sell in another month, maybe sooner if the market was right.

A stir among the cattle down near the river brought him round to face the swinging bridge he'd built years before. Someone was coming toward him from the bridge. Someone in breeches, but it didn't look like a man, somehow. What was a woman doing in his pasture this time of night?

He bent over the salt again; maybe if he paid her no heed she'd go on past and let him mind his own business. He heard her footsteps come nearer and stop. "Good evening," she said.

Her voice was smooth with book learning but friendlier than most, and somehow almost shy. When he made no answer she went on, "I've been sitting on your swinging bridge....I thought I'd like to say thank-you...." Her voice stumbled a little, then she tried once more.

"You are Mr. ____". His name sounded strange in her voice, but she went on to tell her own.

"That's what they've called me the last sixty-eight years," he said, looking past her face to the hills fast darkening under a single star. "I reckon the woods are free for those that like to walk there."

The unfamiliar voice laughed a little. "That's what Emerson said: the grove belongs to the man who walks in it with an open heart....On that basis I guess I've owned part of your woods for a good many years.....". She made a final effort. "I've always wanted to thank you....."

Something deeply hidden stirred in him. "There's a stump up there, in the notch of the woods", he said slowly, "that before the timber grew so tall you could stand on it and see all over this country."

He kept still a minute, remembering, then, "I used to stand up there an' look at things, an' wonder how they come to be like they was, an' how the hills was created, an' all the things in Nature.... I told my wife I guessed all the religion I ever had I got standin' on that old stump, a-wonderin'..." He turned his face away from her.

She helped him out. "I know about that, a little. This afternoon I saw......." Her account of a thing she had really taken time to look at eased him, and he answered with telling of the badger den at the foot of the swinging bridge.

When she had gone, he turned to watch her. After a moment she stood clear and unmoving against the sky. You could hear the sounds of the river where she stood. She was one that could stand still long enough, he thought, really to hear what a body was saying, or a river.

Then she walked down the farther side of the slope and was gone. ------Margaret Snyder from A Chosen Valley

Fall was the end of harvest, end of the growing season, a burst of color and sun-warmth before killing frost turned the land gray and cold. Fall was a moody time, full of both life and death, a time when we were reminded of the power outside of us, reminded that the seasons happen to us. We do not invite the change to come.-------Ben Logan, from The Land Remembers

When you get those rare moments of clarity, those flashes when the universe makes sense, you try desperately to hold onto them. They are the lifeboats for the darker times, when the vastness of it all, the incomprehensible nature of life is completely elusive. So the question becomes or should have been all along, what would you do if you knew you only had one day, or one week, or one month to live. What lifeboat would you grab onto? What secret would you tell? What band would you see? What person would you declare your love to? What wish would you fulfill? What exotic locale would you fly to for coffee? What book would you write? ------- Ben Tyler

We were also cautioned about journeying far from home. As an example of the dangers, the town had a badly crippled lady named Lucy, who as a girl had traveled to New York City. As she traveled along a sidewalk, sightseeing, she was struck by the outstretched hand of a suicide who had leapt from high above. Her spine had been shattered and for the rest of her life, she was to walk bent forward at the waist, tapping the sidewalk with two black canes. Whenever the subject of travel to a big city was raised, someone would say, "Just remember what happened to Miss Tripp." ---- Ted Kooser, from Local Wonders

"Steamboats are like wedding cakes without the complications...." ----Mark Twain

"It's not about having lots of money, it's about having lots of options......." -----Chris Rock

As the very proud father of three former ponytail wearers, hopefully I can get away with this....."For the past few years it's been fashionable for young women to wear ball caps and to snap the strap on the back under their ponytails. I like the looks of that, their shiny ponytails jauntily swinging, but it's hard not to think of the rear ends of horses. There's a piece of harness called the crupper that goes just under a horse's tail to keep its nose down. If the horse lifts its head to look for a way out of whatever predicament it's in, the crupper tightens and hurts the horse. But it's foolish for parents to think that a ball cap might keep a young woman from running away. Anybody can see they're made for running." ------Ted Kooser, Local Wonders

"I tell the guy's girlfriend that the only difference between the book's main character Phaedrus and myself is that I am neither brilliant, tortured or insane, she looks at my bike and there is an uncomfortable silence." --------ahendepe (a.k.a. Vermin)