Coop's Corner: September 2024

Monday, September 30, 2024

Another September Delta Weekend - 2024/09/29

I didn't arrive until Friday noon (thanks Jim for delivering my afternoon students!!) but in no way did I feel short changed. The other guys arrived Thursday, snuck some miles in that afternoon and then went whole hog Friday morning, arriving back at the cabin quite literally minutes before I pulled in.

Friday and Saturday's rides, almost 190 miles combined for me. My route was primarily macadam and gravel, the other guys spent a lot more time in the deep, very very dry sand.

We healthy-snacked our way through Friday's lunch.

Old retired guys between rides....

Friday evening....

Dinnertime at the lodge....

T-shirts and shorts around the fire....end of September....Delta, Wisconsin....

Saturday morning.....

In Ashland for something yummy at The Ashland Baking Company

A reminder to us all.....it's pretty tough to roller skate in a buffalo herd....

Then, a walk across the street for some Black Cat Coffee.

We go out back....

This mural unique compared to all of the other 'just painted' ones on the town's buildings

After coffee in Ashland we split up, Steve and Eric went off to find more (very) dusty sand. Greg and I focused on paved roads to a few tourist traps. We were early for the noon-opening of the Historical Museum at the brownstone Cultural Center so we stayed on this side of the street to visit the bookstore that Ben and Bri had raved about.

I looked at it, looked away and looked at it some more and then walked away.

Then I walked back....

You really shouldn't walk out empty....

We then stashed our treasures before walking over to the Cultural Center ....

This was really fun....I'm guessing a local person with his daughter. I initially whispered Greg over because the gent was explaining what he knew about the Barksdale Dupont TNT facility, a large part of Greg's and my curiosity for the visit. By the time we got close enough he was mostly finished but not before he looked over, smiled and said, "....you're listening to me..."

A bit later, both of our attention was focused on another conversation. The curator carried over some of her 'mystery' photos, hoping against all hope that either he or she might recognize one of the images....

"That's me!!"

"....and that's my cousin, his sister.....don't know that one......and so on...."

It was big fun.

Representing the Barksdale complex....

The lout.....

Greg and I stopped.....we didn't try this fishing.

Largest cabbage machine I've ever seen....

One of my planned goals was to visit Frog Bay Tribal National Park. We made it but didn't walk out to the beach as I'd hoped. We were both a bit leery of leaving our bikes and associated goodies alone in the isolated spot.

Then through the Red Cliff Reservation and over to the National Park Service Apostle Islands Lakeshore Little Sand Bay.

From there we worked our way over to Cornucopia, stopped in front of Peg's Grampa's boat for one more 'selfie'. We walked along the dock, found a couple of exceptionally delightful local ice cream sandwiches and then headed south through some amazing color on FR 236. South to Ino, back through downtown Delta and back out to the resort.

Another evening campfire, Eric built a dandy! And again, sitting in the glow, wearing attire not normally worn in northern WI at the end of September.

Sunday morning, heavy fog. Heavy enough to keep us around a bit longer than we'd have normally stayed.

Eric packing up, will be riding home instead of trailering.

Steve kind enough to help me get mine on the trailer.

Searching for the rather elusive side stand.....

Eric out and away....

All 4 machines flawlessly coped, all of them avoided sand in the ends of the handlebars.....THIS time!

You all know where we'll be at the end of September 2025.

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)