Riverbed

I cycle along paths
Where water flows
Through cool hollows
Shaded, musky

This chain of waterways
Gives birth to my spirit
Carrying me through a
Juxtaposition of time and space


Fluid from the hips
I have abandoned time
And try not to drown
















There was a great stretch of bike path that ran along the creek between Harriet and Nakomis that, if you came up to it fast enough and weren't slowed down by anyone in your way, you could coast for half a mile or more as you dropped down lower and lower into the creek bottom. It was cool and dark and green, fragrant with the humidity that comes from lushness. I would ride this stretch with a sense of abandon that was good for my soul. I loved the feel of the rushing air against my skin and in my hair. In my high school summers, on almost a daily basis, I would ride around Lake Harriet, head over to Nakomis, ride around that lake, and head back home. At least a ten mile jaunt. Of course when there were friends at the beach, or places to stop at along the way, all the better, but it was the rush of freedom of the ride I was really after.

When I went to work at Camp Tamarac, I pushed to be assigned to the out-of-camp bike tour, and finally was the last session of camp. I was thrilled to go on my first cross-country bike trip. We averaged about 20-25 miles a day on that trip, easy for me to do. And along the way I learned everything there was to know about bike maintenance - necessary when you're on the road that far from everything. I learned how to repair or change a flat tire. I learned how to true a bent wheel, how to take apart, fix and put back together a bike chain. How to adjust seats, handle bars, and derailleurs. How to adjust or fix brake cables. I also learned how to pack light. If you have to carry all your own gear, including tent, sleeping bag, clothes, food, and water on your bike, you travel even more lightly than you do backpacking - because backpackers aren't lugging a bike on top of everything else. And so we biked from Hinckley, MN to Madeline Island, WI and back, a round trip of about 320 miles.

And when camp was over, a friend and I went on another trip, this time from Stillwater, MN to Copper Harbor, MI which was about 700 miles round trip. Most days we went about 80 miles or so. One day, with a terrific tailwind at our back, we were bound and determined to do 100 miles in one day. I think we only did about 97 simply because we ran out of road, reaching our destination. But I remember parts of that trip... The day when it was raining and so we set out to bike to the nearest down for breakfast since a campfire was pointless. And biking uphill for many miles with no calories to burn and so we were burning sheer muscle in our legs and the pain of it, but having no choice but to push forward. Grim.

Pair that with the downhill ride with the tailwind, and the glorious feel of freedom you can experience only when you cycle through this great country of ours up close and personal. When you smell September wheat drying in the sun. When you see the steepled, whitewashed church in the middle of nowhere. When you hear small children laughing and playing in the municipal park. When you see railroad cars full of goods and graffiti. When you meet people who are proud of where they come from and the work they do.