Last Days in Minnesota

I stepped outside this evening to hear an owl crying in the chill night, and see the big dipper hanging above me. What owl, I don't know, nor do I know why he was howling, but not knowing and guessing is really much better. (Grant, you can probably tell me the phylum, etc.)

My psych level for my trip is gaining steam with each day that passes. I still haven't gotten out on my bike yet, just skiing for the moment, so it might be a rude awakening when I finally don spandex and get back in the saddle. But I've been eating extra donuts and ice cream to pad my rear, so maybe it won't be too bad.

I just received the last bits of gear I ordered, and it was like a mini christmas in February! The panniers I chose are sweet, really lightweight and waterproof, which is good, since I'll be rained on quite a bit, apparently. Maybe I can outride the rain? Also, I've got some disco lights, a nice rack, new spandex, and a very shiny bike (not new, but newly clean. Photos forthcoming).

I almost can't believe I'm doing this. But I am! As I've said before (not in this blog, but often otherwise), life rich in experience beats life rich financially. And I definitely won't come out ahead as far as my bank account goes, but when I look back at this time when I'm gray and wizened, will I remember the fog near Big Sur, or how much money was in my checking account?

To think that a year ago, I was consumed with finding a career or job, is a little scary. I've found only seasonal work since, but have been very content with that decision. I might find myself in the northwest this summer/fall, working on yet another organic farm. In that light, I am suddenly worried that I know nothing about fishing for salmon and steelhead (rainbow trout returning from the Pacific), so maybe I'll spend a couple days tying some salmon flies. And more trout flies! The fishing season will be upon me once this trip is over, and there is always a new pattern to fill my fly boxes with, as well as old patterns to restock, since I invariably lose many a painstakingly tied fly in trees, shrubs, log jams, my hat, rock piles, and to the river itself. Not often to fish, I've found.

To close, I was helping my mother clean the basement since they are thinking of moving, and we found a big box full of stuff she had saved from my infancy. Inside, a pair of pretty cool Nike hightops, size three, and, best of all, a newspaper from the day I was born. Headline? "Reagan Investigated for Aid Given to Contras". Also, an article about these kids who perform something called "Rap", as well as a glossary of rap lingo. It is pretty hilarious.

Oh, how we outgrow the years of our youth. I'm a size twelve or thirteen shoe now (but rap lingo constantly needs a glossary).

Be well, be safe, be good (to yourselves and in general). And, seriously, send me bike name suggestions. I've received zero, and may have to name my bike sha neigh neigh, after the (in)famous cross dresser who visited Beloit College as part of a dance show. (I think it was spelled shanaynay).

Hoo Hoo, Hoooo

Connor