Coop's Corner

Monday, October 11, 2021

WedThurFriSatSun - 2021/10/10

It has been a great week, action packed, filled with Helix adventures!

Tuesday....

Sunday....

Monday.... 420 to go!

Not everyone does a picnic in the rain....but then not everyone rides a Helix!

Smoked salmon (thanks Ben!), Garlic Cheese Curds and some crackers. Fresh ground to top it off.

This past weekend was Arts Festival in Red Wing and 3 (count 'em) of the cruise ships came up the river and stopped at Levee Park. This Thursday evening, American Melody was the first one.

Back on Friday, the 2nd boat had arrived, the American Melody almost ready to depart for St. Louis

Friday fish fry, Lemon Banana pie part of the deal. Emily, my favorite waitress continues to call the Helix a Moped. My manhood hasn't suffered, she can call it anything she wants as long as she brings me these slices.

A loop around Lake Pepin, Point-No-Point in the distance.

Saturday morning Lake City....

I crossed the river at Wabasha, the plan to meet Steve in Baldwin for lunch and then ride to Red Wing to visit the Red Wing Marine Engine Museum and see the docked Cruise Riverboats. On the way to Lake City I managed to see boat #3 headed up river.

From the Wisconsin side, a Tow rounding Point-No-Point where the river makes an almost perfect 90 degree turn from east to south.

Again, the point looking from the north, the overlook and campground at Frontenac State Park up on top.

After breakfast with Steve in Baldwin, we took the long way back to Red Wing, this sky diving just outside of Baldwin.

I've been trying to drone some harvest action but my timing is always off.

Or....it's too windy!

One of the long barns....

Corn crib on the end of a barn, I've never seen this anywhere else.

Round barn, once a thriving and huge dairy operation. Now just weeds, an abandoned home and farmstead. The cropland never abandoned however.

Just outside Diamond Bluff...

Crossing the bridge back in to Minnesota at Red Wing.

Things were hopping in Red Wing due to the annual Arts Festival. Steve's Concours wheel making an appearance here.

We learned a lot that we had not yet known. The Red Wing Marine Engine Museum and Boatworks. Hastings, Red Wing, Lake City, Wabasha, Winona....they all had companies making boat engines. As the man said, "....rowing is a lot of work...". All of these engines, none of them exactly the same as any other.

The museum is housed in the old Pump House building for Red Wing, built in 1865.

Sharing space next door, the Gandy Dancers Model Railroad Club. Steve and I both had a great time conversing with a few of the club members.

One of the owners of the famous Red Wing Boat Harbor buildings opened his space to allow we tourists a look see. I know the demand far exceeds supply and access is coveted. We walked all of the way out to the end and back again on the dockway. All houses secured and floating on barrels. Many if not most of the modern houses are built on winter ice and then floated into place when a new space is available.

Back on the bikes to visit "up on the hill" in Memorial Park.

Leaving Memorial Park, I turned right for a return to Frontenac, Steve turned left for Minneapolis.

Sunday morning, I planned on another Wisconsin loop, another absolutely ideal October day.

Just like old times....breakfast at Pier 4 in Alma.

Up on top away from the river, a weather Front was blowing through. I checked my radar.....

I was heading the right way.

This image wasn't touched, the lightning, wispy drops and sudden sunshine made magic.

It blew through and the rest of the day was as promised by the prognosticators. I put a video up, partly featuring this Pretzel Pass location.

A message from my favorite gas station coffee company....it's not even the end of November yet!

It was about this time I texted Eric, wondering if he could come out and play. We met in Eleva for lunch.

I made it to Pammy Kaye's in Eleva before Eric did, but not by much. He had to turn the log splitter off before jumping on his bike to make it in time.

There's a story here.....Our buddy Greg found himself in the hospital, a serious 'in the hospital' and he's got an even greater appreciation of life now that he's out. He reminded us this week to not put things off, to get desert in, sometimes before the main course.

Wise counsel Mr. G.....I followed your example.

The soup and sandwich followed as those that are informed are wont to do.

So....a busy week, not all of it on the Helix if you can believe that. Friday morning I accompanied mom to the dentist. Friday evening Peg and I visited our eldest daughter in South Minneapolis and good time was had by all.

Here's roughly 500 miles-worth...

I honestly believe that 30k on the clock is in fact possible and a worthy goal regardless!!

Others say....

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)