here is a preview of colorado pics. i don’t know where my card reader is right now, so i’m relegated to posting pics from my phone.
speaking of pictures, this friday i am going to try my hardest to take some architecture photos around austin. i think the juxtaposition of old and new is so fascinating in this town. mostly the old stuff not being torn down, like it would be in most places.
i am in the middle of a pinterest project right now. nate asked me what i was doing while i was doing it – i said, “arts and crafts!” ah, “arts and craps” he said. i’m hoping they don’t turn out to be arts and craps.
anyhow, here’s a pic of what i ate for supper. i used the grill for the last time at 250 18th Ave SE tonight. *sigh* 
mmm. i made those cheesy rolls again *drool*
on a serious note, i am wondering about “oppressed” christians in this country. are christians really oppressed and ridiculed? is it easier to be an “out” christian or an “out” atheist in the US? when we call america a pagan country, is that really a bad thing?
personally, i think it’s easier to be an outted christian than an outted atheist in general (regionally, this might vary). but to be a TRUE christian in this country, not just a CINO and you’re just going through the motions and not caring, there might be some level of oppression. i think a lot of so-called christians are really just people who go to church and believe that because that’s what they’ve done their entire lives. true christians and true atheists are at two ends of a very large spectrum, neither of which i would like to encounter in a religious debate. for me, talking with a devoted atheist is just as tiring as talking with a devoted christian.
and really, i would rather live in a pagan country than a christian country – to call the US a christian country rings a little too close to a theocracy for comfort for me. the separation of church and state should be just that – separation. you can bring your religious background into political and governmental decisions, but that means that the next person shouldn’t have to adhere to your religious background in their politicization; the US is known for autonomy, and freedom of religion is one way to put that forward.
quite frankly, i’m tired of hearing about both sides – christian and atheist. can’t we just live our life we have to the fullest without bugging others and be happy? can’t we all just get along?
About a month go, I found a bike at Goodwill for $15. I’d been thinking about getting a bike for quite some time; the last time I owned a bike, I was 14 years old.
I shoved the bike in my trunk and took it home. After a new seat, raising of the seat and handlebars, and a good dose of WD40 (not to mention a frantic phone call to my brother when the handlebars seemed to have broken), I had a decent bicycle for a total investment of $35. It wasn’t the best bike out there, nor would it beat any land speed records, but for what I needed it to do, it was great.
After tooling around St. Joe a couple times, I had a sudden thought: I spend half my week a mere 50 miles from the best biking trail in the state. It’d been years since I’d biked the Root River Trail, but I knew the best time to do it was in the fall. So I did the next logical thing: I called my dad.
My dad’s bike very well could be the only bike a thief would pass over to steal mine, but it served the same purpose – it gets him around on two wheels. Growing up, he had been the one to drive us to the southeast corner of the state, back end of the vehicle filled with bikes, and set out from Fountain or Lanesboro for an afternoon of biking the trail. So when I called him and explained my idea, he was more than willing.
Now one point of the excursion, of course was to take a bike tour; the main point, was to see the leaves in all their splendor. Unfortunately, it’s been a pretty cruddy year for leaf exposition. The drought, along with the early spring, made for very odd leaf-viewing opportunities all across the state. As it was, we scheduled our jaunt the weekend before the normal peak viewing.
The day before, the wind howled all day; wind speeds were 2-30 mph, and I just groaned at the thought of all those leaves breaking their arborly restraints. But I hoped for the best. I borrowed a jacket from my aunt (highs in the upper 40s-low 50s) and zipped to our rendezvous point that morning.
And so we took off from Fountain, the trailhead (depending on who you believed), on a slightly windy, chilly Friday late morning. The sun was out, but it did little to cut the chill when we started pedaling the asphalt.
I remembered nothing about the trail since the time I’d been there before. I knew it had been a while since I’d biked it, but I thought I would remember something – no. But it was ok, because that made it an entirely new and lovely experience.
The trees were mostly bare, but there was an occasional pocket of color bursting from the brown, slumbering deciduous or the dark green pines. Leaves littered the trail from the previous day’s housecleaning, and they made a satisfying crunch under my bike tires. Once we came upon a section of trail that was entirely covered leaves with not a trace of asphalt peeking through – a yellow leaf puddle.
And all around us were the trees, devoid (mostly) of their dress. The crowded the trail, creating a tunnel for bikers. Once in a while, the branches overhung the traill, and I can only imagine how lovely it would’ve been with yelloworangered leaves overhead. And then some sections were spooky, with skeleton branches looming black overhead against the blue sky.
On the first leg, the trail hugged a hill so that one side of us opened to a great expanse of horizon as the trees allowed. We were able to see smoke rising from Preston, about four or five miles south. During those times when there was a considerable slope to my right, I made sure to keep my eyes on the road.
Fountain to Lanesboro is almost 12 miles, interrupted only by a few roads, a few farm fields, and a few old railroad bridges, one of which was a truss bridge (with a steel top on it). We passed a cattle farm and hear low moos and rustling of animals. A crop farm was nestled in a low valley, hillsides securing it in its place. Past relics of farm with pastures long gone to seed spotted the trail, driveways where machinery sneaking over the trail to the fields the only reminders. It seemed intrusive to coast past the fields, especially when it cut into a field with only the dirt driveways the get across, then I remembered this was a railroad long before the current farmers were even born.
And if there was a moment I forgot this was an old railroad, there was soon a bridge to remind me. The old ties still straddled rivers and roads and low spots, and I raised my rear on entrance to the bridges as the bike rumbled over the ties. Often we’d stop on the bridges, peering over the tall sides to what lay below.
The day slowly warmed, and by the time we were closer to Lanesboro than Fountain, the air had probably warmed a good five degrees – but I was still glad for the borrowed jacket and my stocking cap. It was deceptively decent out when we stood still on the bridges, but once back on the trail, the wind cut through the warmth.
A little warmer and a large chunk of the trail behind us, the sides of the trail rose as we biked through a slab of granite. Then our downhill descent became a plateau and then an upward climb. After 10 miles of descending into the valley, now it was time to work for our destination.
And work we did – a few more bends and one interruption* later, we rounded a hill and there was Lanesboro, its entrance a truss bridge over the river itself. We coasted over it and parked our bikes (sans locks) an hour and a half after starting. My legs were a little jellyish, but it didn’t last long. Soon we were regaling our journey to Paul H. at a local eatery.
The lack of leaves was a disappointment, but leaves do not an adventure make. The company and nostalgia alone, even though I remembered nothing of the trail, were worth the journey.
*We got stopped by a Minnesota Monthly photographer taking photos for next year’s trail edition. Look for a bright red jacket in the mag next fall!
there seem to be a lot of people on my facebook feed who are doing couch 2 5k or equivalent. does correlation equal causation? not sure…i know i inspired megan for sure, but other than that, maybe my age group has suddenly gotten health conscious?
i’m slowly but surely getting through nikki’s pics. i’m always so impressed with myself! especially since i’ve never done indoor photos before. some are a little harsh from the flash, but nothing a little p-shop can’t fix. makes me wonder if i should do more weddings — maybe if i had a wrangler. i need a loud cohort.
i love summertime. i love being able to sit outside comfortably. the birdsongs. the frogs in the pond. the sound of traffic. citronella. the smell of lake. freshly cut grass. even sweating i like. i love my deck! i’d prefer a rental with a deck, and hopefully nate’s and my next home (in the country with acreage) will have a deck (and if i’m lucky, a porch, too!). mmmm summer. i think i’ve come to the conclusion that every season but winter is awesome. they are equally awesome in what they best represent and i love them all. and i really hate winter.
nikki’s wedding photos went well, i hope 🙂 i’ve downloaded them and they are sitting on my computer, but i haven’t looked at them yet. i always do this. just let them sit for a bit before doing anything with them. i’m just nervous. even though i normally shouldn’t be. the only thing that i can think of that wouldn’t be good is maybe i got a little flash happy. ah well.
work is going ok. kitties are ok. i miss nate 🙁 already he’s talking about renting a cheapo place down here so we can just be down here instead of doing the long-distance thing. it’s only been two weeks, haha. here’s hoping the house sells.
i wish i had internet at the austin farmstead – i would blog a lot more!
i was taking pics of stuff for etsy today and i realized i don’t have many pics of ralph. so i took some. he looks the same, all that time.
he’s a big doof. falls down, jumps up to get to something, misses, then falls over on his side. he jumped out of the laundry basket as i was going downstairs (sophie hitches a ride all the time) and he misstepped and landed on his back on the stairs and did a somersault. nate figures he’s more like a dog than a cat.
then sophie just looked so darn cute, so i had to get a pic of her.
she’s the only real cat in the house. eats meat, nudges her way into my glass of milk, jumps after bugs, actually lands on her feet.
and chasey’s just angry all the time. 🙁
sophie is a huge proponent of “if i fits, i sits”.
a very nice thing about only having to cook for yourself is that i could take pictures of the food as it was cooking without worrying about getting in someone’s way or holding up any process but my own. woo!
