Salt

“With beat of systole and diastole
One grand great life throbs through earth’s giant heart,
And mighty waves of single Being roll
From nerveless germ to man, for we are part
Of every rock and bird and beast and hill,
One with the things that prey on us, and one with what we kill…”

(From Panthea, Oscar Wilde)

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Photo credit Greg R

The 2016 great meandering brought me to Unalaska, Alaska. Known as Dutch Harbor, the place is one amongst the small islands dotting the ocean between Alaska and Russia, the Gulf of Alaska and the Bering Sea. In my bygone days of Risk playing, I would, strangely enough, imagine myself hopscotching the islands in search of total world domination. Fun times! So, when the opportunity presented itself, courtesy of my husband’s work, I jumped at it. (I flew in a tiny, scary plane from Anchorage, 3 hours into the ocean, feverishly holding on for dear life, and then I jumped at it).

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Of Mud and Men…and Women, and Children, Coffee and Dogs, many, many Dogs

“Every time I see an adult on a bicycle, I no longer despair for the future of the human race.” (H.G. Wells, cited on The Writer’s Almanac, 9/21/16)

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Wallingford Park, Little Kid’s Race

Well, well, it’s been a while: March to October, spring to fall, yet another year flying by. I’ve meandered far and near – feels like a lifetime, so much to tell. I am happy to be back just in time for …mud! No, not the mud unfortunately spreading around the globe by the bewildering human capacity for misdeed (some certainly more capable than others). No, literal mud, cyclocross endless mud. Of course I am not competing – you know I ride on stubbornness and not much else! The good people at my bike shop organize this fun championship and invited me to be part of their team – go figure! Here I am: full fall mud. And loving it!

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The Grand Populaire

March. Who does not like March? If anything, at least it means I turned the corner on chugging February – sorry February, but you are a handful! – into the promise of something new. Whether in the North or in the South, March is renewal all around the globe. Thus, a famous bossa nova song, As Aguas de Março (the waters of March), appropriately sings the promise of renewed life, reassuring all better days are at hand this very month.

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Snatch.

I like the sound of the word snatch. It clicks somewhat. Tickles sometimes. Courtesy of English as a second language, the sound of words capture my imagination before I have a chance to fully understand meanings. Meanings are blurred often in my ears. Dangerous, I know. Also, liberating. Snatch is one of those words for me. Since I have been partaking in the beautiful sport of Olympic Weight Lifting, it has playfully swirled in my mind – skillfully snatching heaviness away. Continue reading

Chewed up!

I finally got off the couch for some much needed group riding. Surely I have been up and down the trail, nothing challenging though. It was time! I had never tried a Cascade Bike Club ride and felt it was about time. I chose a Saturday ride deftly named CHEW: climbing hills eastside in winter. I was chewed up all right… Continue reading

It Has to be Pleasant!

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The year had a sluggish start. Goals, nevertheless, are gradually emerging from the fog, plans gently landing from the clouds. Last year was noisy and dense. It gripped me and would not let go. Slowly I shake it, stretching lazily and wide, shooing a morose winter away. I am not sure yet, but contours seem to be shaping up. Fun outlines that I now get to fill in, coloring in blue. Vast, large blue roads ahead. We’ll see where they go. Continue reading