Last night I took a ride through the countryside. Dark blue clouds rolled in and out, making colors brighter, almost surreal.
This is when I realized it was going to storm! I only got rained on a little. It was a lovely adventure.
Remember that icy winter trail? Here it is now:
Sometimes it’s hard to fathom how one becomes the other, each and every year.
My sister once told me that her brokest summer in New York was her most memorable and fun. She and her man found all kinds of free things to do, traversed the city widely and even found ways to escape the heat. Every city is different, of course, but most have at least few ways to help you enjoy summer regardless of your paycheck.
Grab a Frisbee and feel the grass between your toes, invite a few friends for a picnic or bring a book for your companion. If you’re feeling devilish, put a little gin & tonic in a water bottle and enjoy a relaxing afternoon.
photo: Walker Art Center
When you’re broke, movies become rare finds. But during the summer, many cities offer free outdoor screenings. In Minneapolis, you can see one nearly every night (check out Minneapolis Music and Movies to plan and prioritize).
Free internet and a quiet, cool spot to rest on a hot summer day. What more could you ask for? How ’bout a book? Done.
I will never stop marveling at the genius of this concept. Read, listen and watch almost anything without having to dedicate shelf space or haul it with you next time you move. If you have more time than money, this is definitely the place to be when you need a break from the heat.
And when you’re done at the library …
Another wonderful invention. If you catch yourself complaining about the heat, you should be swimming {night or day}.
Finally, if you’ve been neglecting your nest …
Freshen Your Possessions.Clean out your closet, bring your things to Buffalo Exchange, Everyday People or anywhere they buy and sell. Getting cash is advisable if money’s tight, but store credit offers a great chance to freshen your ensemble without actually dropping a dime. Same thing goes for CDs and books.
In case you didn’t notice, it’s spring now.
Spring has its own tricks and traps. The mornings are icy and very slippery, the afternoons and evenings are muddy and very messy. At all times there are pot-holes, which are dangerous for bikes and bikers. But the sun is feeding us hope and we have the energy to live again.
This will probably be my last post. I always thought I would sum things up with the positivity of bike commuting and my general feelings of success and radness. While the act of bike commuting has been overwhelmingly positive, I would say that there are parts of my life that were changed by it somewhat negatively.
I could no longer drive to visit family members 50 miles away. While I could bike there (and have in summers past), it’s not practical to make a day trip. I’ve been seeing less of my parents, sisters and nephews. I don’t think this would sit as sharply in my heart, but in the past couple of weeks my father nearly died and was subsequently hospitalized. I am borrowing a car to be able to see him in the hospital, and I feel fortunate that I’ve been able to.
I hate to go all indie film on you and fill this ending with contradiction and uncertainty. I guess those filmmakers were right when they told us that real-life issues don’t reach resolution in an hour and a half — or even a winter. We tried to make the best of hitting a deer and now I’m questioning whether we made the right decision. We’re not in control and I’m not sure there are any right answers.
I’m still biking though. Since my sister and I are sharing the borrowed car, each of us ends up biking to or from the hospital with some frequency.
I still love being on the bike. I still believe it draws me into the city and allows me an intimacy I couldn’t otherwise access.
Tonight I rode home as the sun descended. It was easy to sense that the fleeting evening light in my eyes was the end of a day, a small part of a lifetime. I went a little out of my way to ride by some old haunts. I wasn’t as interested in reliving memories as I was in seeing who was there now, how things may have changed. 
To my surprise, things looked very much the same. Yet I no longer belonged there. I was the one that changed, simply by growing older — hopefully growing in every sense of the word.
Time passes, lives begin and end. All we can do is appreciate moments of beauty, show gratitude, cultivate love and try to grow.
Just when I thought it was safe to bike outside …
I woke up yesterday morning and looked out my window to find snow. And snowing. It was the 23rd of March and had been above freezing (at least during the day) for a couple of weeks. I thought we were in the clear. But no.
My sister had gone out by bike earlier that morning and sent me a text saying that the roads were bad, really bad. You should bus, said the text.
I seriously considered this advice. However, after contemplating my lack of bus fare and knowledge of the bus schedule, weighed against my general toughness, I decided to give the bike a whirl.
I made it down my street without falling. I turned the corner — also without falling. On this new street, however, I just couldn’t stay up and moving. It was heavy snow and there had been no plowing. I fought through for another block before deciding I was going to be really late for work if I insisted on doing this.
I turned around. I walked the bike home. I decided to lock it in the alley and race to the nearest bus stop. Just as I had locked the bike and taken my first step toward the thoroughfare nearby, the bus cruised past. I ran, still in my helmet. I was at the street in 5 seconds, could have been to the bus stop in another 5. I watched the bus drive into the horizon and contemplated how, if I had somehow been 15 seconds ahead of myself, I would have been on that bus. Man.
I trudged home, took off my helmet and walked back to the bus stop. I waited 17 minutes for the bus and made it to work 10 minutes late. These are the adventures of being a good citizen of the world. Most of the time it’s fun and feels good, but not always.
Today, there still hasn’t been much plowing. I think the city has given up and is just going to wait for the sun to work its magic. And shining it is. At least I know that on this snowy spring day.
Yesterday was St. Patrick’s Day. After work I met some friends at O’Gara’s in St. Paul. It was wild. People with shamrock antennae and leprechaun top hats were just the beginning. There was also a parade (yes, right through the bar). This consisted of a bagpipe band in kilts and other plaid garb, followed by people in all manner of strange costume. Since swill was six-fifty we soon left to find a more affordable patch of celebration. We tried the Turf Club, but they were charging a cover … so Big V’s it was. There, I asked for a Jameson neat, which I had to repeat several times to the hard-raised woman behind the bar. And she still made it with ice. I would have been more upset if she were under 70. It’s the truth. We had found our home (though the regulars weren’t too happy about a bunch of youngsters invading).
The weather was great. I had a blast and, with Irish beer and whiskey as my main fuel source, biked about 20 miles.
There were many puddles, I’m happy to report. I accidentally went down a dirt (meaning mud) alleyway and had to walk through this giant puddle (above).
Seeing as St. Louis Park to St. Paul was a new route for me, I got to explore a bit. Some things I saw:
Biking has been pretty glorious for the past week. Today was especially amazing, as I rode home in fifty degree weather and the sun in my face. Yesterday things were thawing out, like this bit of water here that’s not frozen:
To you, this may look like a nasty little puddle surrounded by slush and snow. To me, it’s the sound of angels singing and my heart swelling loud with excitement. I don’t even care when it splashes on my boots.
The unfrozen weather has encouraged me to explore a bit more, taking paths I otherwise might not. I’ve mostly been biking to my new job at The Birchwood Cafe, which I love. Not only do they source local, sustainable food, but {{{drum roll please}}} they compost! And yes, the food is delicious. The final piece of awesome is that my coworkers are radical and inspire me to be a spitfire.
Things are good. Spring is a happiness and a relief. I suppose I’ll have to stop blogging about winter biking soon, since it won’t be winter! But there’s still snow on the ground, so we have a little more time, dear reader. Here, for your enjoyment, is the Minneapolis skyline, from the south.
Once upon a time, in a far away land called Marco Island (technically speaking, that’s Florida), two travelers were taken on a Sunday detour through nearby Goodland.
Goodland was one big party. People were boating, drinking on outdoor patios and surfer-bum types were selling fresh blue crab.
Alas, the travelers could not leave the car, and simply watched all of the merry-making from the windows.
They noticed a quaint house for sale. It looked like a trailer-trash version of Swiss Family Robinson. This piqued the travelers’ interest. Seeing as how they were not at liberty to stop the car, they watched the house pass by with the same curious longing as they had the kettles of blue crab and overflowing bar patios.
The next day, these two happened upon bikes for rent. They looked at one another and immediately knew that they must rent these bikes and make a pilgrimage of sorts. Where to?
Goodland, of course!
It was a bit of a ride, perhaps 6 miles or so, to get there. They did this with little fortification, but high hopes of beer on a sunny patio.
Goodland bar on Monday
However, when they arrived, Goodland was empty. Overnight, the place had become a desolate remnant of parties had.
Tables sat empty, no beer appeared for sale anywhere. Even Stan’s Sugar Shack (home of the Goodland Mullet Festival) was closed.
Fortunately, two men sat smoking cigarettes and drinking cans of their own beer outside one of these closed establishments. The two knew that these men could direct them to the nearest open place of business or at the very least be bribed for beer. Without hesitation, the travelers rode up and asked the men for advice and directions.
The old timers told the tourists that Little Bar was the only place open on Mondays, then joked about being from Miami, where they’d gotten used to carrying extra guns so as not to run out of bullets. It was implied, though never stated, that they’d given up such practices after moving to Goodland 15 (or possibly 50) years prior. The travelers laughed politely — wondering just how many guns were being carried. The men recommended Little Bar again and the younger folk gratefully waved goodbye and made their escape.
They had a very satisfying lunch and drink at Little Bar, then set out to find the trailer on stilts they’d seen for sale the day before. They rode around a bit, uncertain of exactly where it was. No sooner did they set eyes on it than one of the two figures in the yard yelled out, “I’ve been looking for yooooouuuu!”
Yes, it was one of the Miami men. He was the owner of this intriguing home and, incidentally, needed help lifting an anchor into the bed of his truck. He was making a trip to the junkyard in not-so-nearby Naples.
An old man with a long beard was standing nearby. Apparently, this was Miami’s uncle and next door neighbor — useless for lifting heavy objects into truck beds, but very adept at growing facial hair.
The tourists helped lift the anchor, found out that the house was selling for $275 thou (guess they didn’t hear about the housing bubble down in Goodland) and said a hearty goodbye to their new friend, perhaps for the last time.
The end.
![spoonbridge & cherry [3.01]](http://www.keyandbones.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/sc3.01.jpg "spoonbridge & cherry [3.01]")
Spring is about to hit, smell it in the air. Route to be changing soon, ‘notha job. So no more Spoonbridge and Cherry, but I’ll find something else to photograph.
m/polis from south
I rode around a little more than usual today. I get to know a city so much more intimately when I’m on a bike. I can also stop to take photos.
![Spoonbridge & Cherry [2.25.2011]](http://www.keyandbones.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/sc2.25.jpg "s&c[2.25]")
