Coop's Corner: October 2nd Week

Sunday, October 15, 2023

October 2nd Week - 2023/10/15

My 2nd week of officially being retired and I'm making the small adjustments with aplomb. I didn't exactly have a long way to go as far as adapting to a schedule however with my previous work schedule of 3 day weeks....Tuesdays now mean something other than they had. This is going to be good.

I noticed in last week's paper that there would be a book-signing at the Wabasha County Historical Center on Sunday and it looked interesting.

IIRC, the oldest brick school building in Minnesota....

Still much to do in the garden, green/brown stalks, vines.....weeds....We have the last of our peppers, zillions of tomatoes that are not doing well, quickly past their prime. One lone cabbage is still there, some carrots a quite a few potatoes are yet to be doug.

Onions are drying on racks, Dry Beans were picked and are now mellowing on their own racks. The beans themselves were small but richly abundant!

Here I'd just started....this pail eventually overflowed.

Other outside chores that were accomplished, some old horse pasture fencing that has been waiting (years) to be pulled.

I've been watching the forecast and associated weather...Last Tuesday and Wednesday though starting in the mid-30's were expected to be nipping at almost 60 for late afternoon highs. You might guess what that meant....as I told my friends, my new retirement status was to be flaunted.

A lovely and serene 436 miles over the two days....an absolute wander, no plan, Yellow on Tuesday then Red. But once I started, I made my goal the revisiting of many of the roads ridden years ago and for some reason, rides ignored these last dozen or so productive years.

Fuel, coffee and a chance to warm up my hands in Arcadia.

County DD....it had been a long time.

A busy Tuesday lunch-time at the park in Ettrick....

Stuhr/Hall Road....

Stuhr bypasses North Bend...haven't actually been through there in many years. South through Mindoro and the 'Cut. I haven't been through there since '20 when I met Troy there, the time before that was with Ben when he was home on Leave in 2016.

I rode it this time with sedateness and civility....

It's OK, he kindly waved me through....you know what a hurry those motorcyclists are in!

The actual Cut...

South through Bangor, out of town on 'B', then 'J', 'JJ' and on to 'JB'.

I had just turned onto 'JB'....

Into Coon Valley for gas and a break...

Up the hill and back out to Cty 'B'.

Tuesday evening in Viroqua....

A west-facing loop to start out with, then I changed my mind.

Both the jogger and I agreed that it was a very beautiful morning. I stopped to enjoy the quiet valley and a few sips from my thermos.

Mount Tabor....

On Hwy 33, just west of and headed over Wildcat Mountain....

On Hwy 27 ready to turn onto Marigold Ave.....

The 'BC' loop....another one once ridden often....

County 5 dropping down into Lake City....

Late afternoon shadows in Old Frontenac....

And home. Based on the predictions I'm seeing for the coming days, another one of these trips is possible yet this fall.

6 comments:

redlegsridesOctober 16, 2023 at 9:03 PM
Been without ready access to good internet access, belated congrats on retiring! Everyday is Saturday!
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motormikeOctober 17, 2023 at 3:42 AM
Nice fall adventure :)
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mohessianOctober 18, 2023 at 8:40 AM
Well, I'ma gonna vote for EVERY day being Saturday over the thrill of having a vacation day.
Dang! That Crossings book is brand new and no library has it. The author doesn't seem to have a good a reputation as that Barn Book guy, but I want to read it anyway.
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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)