Journeys 3.1

Filled out primary ballots for U.S. Senator, U.S. Representative, Governor, and all the way down to school board members. In doing so, we asserted our right to choose a government that “shall seem most likely to effect [our] Safety and Happiness,” as declared in the Declaration of Independence. I’ll hand-carry these ballots to a drop-off point, especially since the Federal Government is threatening to block mail-in ballot delivery in states that don’t accede to their demands.

Cycled around looking at preparations for July 4. Our celebrations are very local, so there’s none of the partisanship of DC. Here, several blocks of downtown are being fenced off for A Taste of Minnesota, essentially a food truck corral with a bit of entertainment. The number of garbage bins impressed me. Meanwhile, down at Stone Arch Bridge, preparations were underway for celebratory events culminating in fireworks.

The loud squeak when I apply my front brake is a feature; I’m loath to fix what is probably just a minor misalignment. Today the trail to the fish shop was blocked due to light rail maintenance, forcing me to choose between a busy road and the sidewalk. I chose the sidewalk. The moment I applied the front brake, people practically leapt out of the way. Cycling on the sidewalk is legal in Minneapolis areas zoned residential, but, um… I was definitely in a commercial zone.

With angry rock pounding and the vague smell of fried chicken, I reacquainted myself with a St. Paul, Midway institution, Ax-Man Surplus. Nothing had changed over the decades from the iron lung to the snarky signs. As I walked out, empty-handed, the gnarly guy at the counter asked me if I’d ever thought of buying something I didn’t want. I said they now had mindshare, which seemed to be a sufficient response.

Our objective was a bridge over the BNSF Northtown Yard, a rail yard that stretches for over three miles. It was another heat advisory day, and the weather caught up with me at the bridge as my pedal power faded. My friend, knowing my aversion to hydration, had brought an extra water bottle that worked wonders. I made it back home, but my blood pressure was abnormally low due to dehydration, prompting a firm vow to always carry water from now on.

Thought of my dad in the 1920s and myself in the ’50s and ’60s, modeling the world with Meccano. A freight train rumbled overhead as I took shelter under the Short Line Bridge, briefly escaping the sun’s direct rays. Motivating me forward was the promise of fish tacos for lunch at Sea Salt in Minnehaha Park, and the knowledge that today’s extreme heat warning would deter the usual long line snaking out the door.

Postponed our usual Sunday morning walk because of lightning and rain. On our now-afternoon walk, a block from home, this native planting meadow was flourishing with help from the morning’s rain. Until a couple years ago, this section of city park land was weedy, cut grass. Now, it delights pollinators and passers-by.