Coop's Corner

Sunday, November 3, 2013

MN Swan Ride 2013

Today was the MN Swan Ride, an annual event that started years ago as an excuse for those motorcyclists hardy enough for an early November ride to do so. The Mississippi River Flyway is a path for many migrating birds and the Tundra Swans are one of the species that make the trip, both up and down the river depending on the season. Check out the link, it explains the history of the ride and how it started.

The official event starts in South St. Paul with a free breakfast, but our little group decided to forego the meal in the city and instead have breakfast in Alma, the river town and nearby park that is the swan-watching destination of the ride.

Things were very busy at the restaurant this morning; the 20 minute wait to be seated was worth it as always. Tim came down from the Twin Cities early, joining Mary, Dave and I for omelettes and coffee.

Justin had to wait outside....

In years past, though not in the last few, the swans would set down in the tributary river/backwater lake of the Mississippi River to take a break from their migration flight to the Chesapeake Bay, their ultimate winter target.

We all hope to see the large masses of huge white birds as we used to.....typically these days there are a few geese and some ducks.

A few early arrivals...

Two Mike's I know, on bikes with old and new variations of bodywork.

Steve and J.P. were there, J.P. didn't have to ask me twice to try his new TU250 Suzuki. A new love affair has begun......I really, very much really enjoyed that bike and thank you sir! I think I can find some more room in the garage.

Riders came and went in groups both large and small. I thought someone said that there were roughly 250 at breakfast for the start. Rather than join the large group heading back across the river to Wabasha, MN for lunch, a few of us split from the group and stopped in Nelson for a cup of soup and coffee. Warren with his perfectly clean Helix is an even more enthusiastic spokesperson for the long low scooters than I am. One day....some day.....more of my friends will come around, they'll finally discover what they've been missing.

Another separation of the group at Nelson, some of us crossed the river to MN but I continued north up the Wisconsin side, visiting the Little House In The Big Woods wayside, a tribute to the Laura Ingalls Wilder book and location where the family lived while in Wisconsin. Some lovely gravel roads, another visit to Rustic Road #51 (of 113) and then a stop in Bay City for ice cream and a warm-up cup of coffee.

Part A of Rustic Road #51
Part B of Rustic Road #51

My stop at Flat Pennies for some very smooth ice cream and a cup of coffee. Bay City is almost directly across the Mississippi River from where we live and I could almost see our place from here but I'll ride another 28 miles to get home across the bridge at Red Wing.

Keeping an eye on things at the caboose. There's a photo inside the shop of Cooper, a very regal looking Black Lab with his official title of CEO.

The sky was bright today but I doubt that we ever made the predicted high temp......strong SE winds were blustery and busy all day pulling the stubborn leaves out of the trees. I had a really good day; my goal for the Swan Ride was more about socializing than it was about the ride and I happily succeeded. I got a chance to see lots of old friends that I don't often ride with or visit with.

These say it all.

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)