Coop's Corner: Another Very Cold Saturday Coffee

Saturday, January 7, 2017

Another Very Cold Saturday Coffee

We're "enjoying" some typical January weather these days. When I climbed in the van this morning at 5:15, the thermometer read -15 degrees F. Out the driveway and down through the hollow before hitting the Big Highway, it dipped to -18. Everyone will be relieved to know that by the time I made it to North Minneapolis, temps had soared to -1 and then later after the sun came out, when we were all full of coffee, the ambient went positive.

Note this lovely sunshine and how deceptively beautiful it looks there on Central Avenue. Not sure why, probably due to the Urban Core location, but there's no snow. Quite possibly Richard's boat-of-a-wagon and his surfboard on the top rack frightened all of the snow that was in the vicinity.

Richard's ready for the longer days....no question about it!

I brought something for Show and Tell today; I won't call it funny but I can call it interesting and no, this was not from last week's newspaper.

So I brought the newspaper clipping (found in dad's March 1951 Harley-Davidson Enthusiast Magazine) as my contribution. Mike R. brought in this fantastic photo and we were told that it had been found in a 1913 camera catalog.

As you can tell, we accomplish a great deal with coffee mugs in hand.

Been a very busy time getting all of our extra merchandise peddled on the Auction Site....what a TON of work. Researching, photographing, documenting, actually Listing, packaging, documenting and very finally, shipping. Mom's (and my) Packratitis is at least partially paying off. I almost don't have time to go to work, let alone spend time out in the shop. That will have to change and soon; days are getting longer! Eric's got his bike almost completely kitted out and I've not even changed oil.

While getting some of dad's old Enthusiast mags ready for auctioning, I came upon this story. There's a lot of pretty cool old info in those '50's publications, especially some of the many "Club Gossip" notes that get published from M/C clubs the world over. Even so, as you might guess, the travel stories are my favorite and this one really caught my eye.

Young Lee Davidson left Pittsburgh, PA......."What started merely as a fishing trip to New England and Canada, worked itself into a cross-country adventure through 28 of our fascinating states, covering some 10,500 miles over scenic highwaays and byways. It all began with my discovery that my trim, but husky Harley Davidson 125 is truly built to "take it."

"Little time was spent in Philadelphia or New York City because of previous visits....."

"....It was in the Haliburton Highlands, a fisherman's paradise, that I enjoyed two weeks of fine fishing."

This part especially endearing......"pass alongside Lake Pepin and ride on into St. Paul, Minnesota. By now, I realize how convenient it is traveling on a motorcycle. With my 125, I just pull off the road and investigate anything I find interesting."

"....Also in Billings we visit HD Dealer Fred C. Olson, chiefly to replace a faulty spark plug. Mr. Olson lends encouragement in my plan to try the new road over the Beartooth Mountains into Yellowstone Park."

"....a black bear is nonchalantly munching a box of raisins from out of my pack. Yelling at the bear has no effect so I drop back to sleep."

San Francisco, L.A., the Grand Canyon, Raton Pass, Dodge City, K.C., Hannibal, Indianapolis, Pittsburgh.

"And the 125 is economical: For fuel only I spent $25.48 in traveling 7,737.1 miles."

Just imagine what he'd have accomplished on a 200!

The coolest part of all....his license plate reads B52.

Finally, we get to the wildlife secion of this Post, today in our Crab Apple tree...
No turkeys, no deer beneath but instead, two very pretty pheasants.

Hope your January is going well and stay warm!!

8 comments:

RichardMJanuary 7, 2017 at 10:21 PM
-15°F and no snow. Something is wrong with your weather.
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SonjaMJanuary 8, 2017 at 4:37 AM
The almost 70 year old travel story hasn't lost its attraction to this day. Who would not want to go on such a great adventure... great find!

Getting hurt or killed by target practicing... scary!
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TrobairitzJanuary 8, 2017 at 10:42 AM
I couldn't imagine riding along minding my own business and getting shot. Damn.

Thank you for always sharing these old stories.
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redlegsridesJanuary 8, 2017 at 1:46 PM
Great stories from back in the day....not quite ATGATT back then, were they? :)

As to that rider getting shot while just riding by....what kind of fool shoots towards a roadway?

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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)