Coop's Corner: I Saw What You Did

Sunday, June 16, 2019

I Saw What You Did

Before we cover what I saw 'you' do, I need to reiterate the fact that the TW200 is a ton of fun....Have I ever made mention??

I started detailing it this spring but didn't get very far.....now I'll wait till next year to make another attempt.

I put the bicycle unit on when I brought the bike home since it was lacking a trip meter. I'm actually shocked at how closely I was able to get it calibrated. Mileage total represents Friday's and Saturday's glorious rides.

Here's what we did on Friday....

Saturday's jaunt here....

I noticed on Back Valley Road that someone was or very recently had done what I was doing.

There was a track....and the track had been fresh since the rain, my guess yesterday afternoon, seemed just a tad too weathered to be earlier this morning .....and was going the same way I was. My tires don't leave tracks like that. In fact that rear tire is leaving precious little track any longer.

See the track?? Right side, going my way.

Where I'd been......and theirs.

Still following the track.....

Here's what I determined. Up Back Valley, through Devil's Corner, Plum Valley, over on Goat Back. Certain that he'd/she'd do Elk Creek....I was wrong. I did Elk Creek, then picked up the trail again getting back on the west end of Goat Back. Sure that I'd lost the trail on Bogus Road, to my surprise and great joy I picked it up again on Foster Road.....but, on Foster, the track was on the other side of the gravel....we were doing anti-directionals at that point.

If you're out there, I managed to get a good part of your trip figured out. You do have great taste, of that I'm certain.

If Lewis and Clark ever do another trip, I'm going to sign up.

Other highlights along Saturday's loop....

What are these plants? This was almost an entire field, as if they'd been planted.

As renowned Vlogger Steve Butler of Steve Butler Productions would say, "the midges were terrible really." The midges have been universally terrible here too Steve.

I flew (piloted?) in spite of the little nuisances.

A few short examples of my learning the craft.....

Someone that DOES real flying (or did??). Looking straight down the end of his built-up runway on the left, the hangar center and a big mistake right. Level ground around the area is at a real premium.

No mistake here....I'm telling you....get there just before noon, pies minutes out of the oven and if you're looking for heaven early, ask for the peach-blueberry.

I love riding in weather like this....hazy overcast and even a few drops. Point-No-Point across the river and home just over the top of it.

A look at a few of the roads traversed.....

Might get out tomorrow, maybe on the TDub and maybe not....early breakfast can happen fast.

Well today is yesterday's tomorrow and the TDub remained in the garage, the Himalayan the machine of choice instead. Breakfast was executed in Red Wing. Our new river bridge is still being worked on, this spring/summer/finally finished (?) river flooding now allowing forward progress. The last middle spans of the bridge are being staged and ready for install.

I've seen the cranes reaching skyward from the quiet harbor all week and finally today managed to go take a look.

And finally, Happy Father's Day to us all!!

2 comments:

redlegsridesJune 16, 2019 at 5:37 PM
Cool set of pics Coop....and yes, a TW200 is loads of fun.
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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)