Microblog

We had an unusual perch for the nearly sold-out Minnesota Orchestra concert. There wasn’t much dust on the pieces we heard: two 20th-century American composers unfamiliar to me (Antheil and Adams) and Tchaikovsky’s final symphony, written on the cusp of the 20th century. In the foreground there’s a robotic camera; the performance was broadcast live on Minnesota public television and radio.

Shared notes about our day over a dinner of indigenous ingredients at the bar at Owamni. While reservations for this James Beard Award-winning restaurant can be hard to snag, we’ve found that unreserved bar seats are usually available if we arrive early. Signs reminded us where we were, featuring tags like #landback, #86colonialism (86 is a nod to the restaurant lingo for removing an item from the menu), and the acknowledgment that we were dining on native land.

A cycle ride with a friend included trail sections that have just reopened after light rail construction. At this choke point, there was room for the light rail or the trail, but not both. The trail won, while the light rail runs in a half-mile tunnel through unstable ground under the trail. This is possibly the most expensive compromise in Minnesota infrastructure history.

Walked through Northrop, a performing arts building, on my U walk, admiring the little niches like this one. It’s such a great place to stop for a quiet cuppa, so I did.

On Mondays, I sometimes get the urge to look at art. At the start of my walk today, I popped into Open Book for “Crossing the Line: The Passport Re-Imagined.” Bad idea: like many galleries, it’s closed on Mondays. Since the cafe was open, an Americano and a donut replaced examining “themes of immigration, power, limitation, and belonging.”

One-pint Ziploc freezer bags are essential travel gear. They protect our passports and phones, and will allow us to use our devices safely in the inevitable Scottish rain. They’ve been difficult to find since the pandemic, but yesterday I managed to order a bunch at a good price from Amazon. After our Sunday morning walk, we found them waiting for us in the package room.

It’s Sausage Saturday, which means sausage, cabbage, and a movie with ice cream at intermission. Tonight’s feature is Rob Roy (1995) and his ‘fight against a corrupt aristocracy,’ a story that feels relevant for our times. Set in 1712 and 1713, the plot follows the fallout after money lent to Rob Roy is stolen. While the ‘baddie’ is an invention, the performance nearly won an Oscar, so we’re expecting a well-told tale filled with ‘epic Highland sword battles.’

Headed over to REI Co-op to freshen up our hiking wardrobe. Clothes shopping at a brick-and-mortar usually isn’t my thing, but I make an exception for hiking gear. Besides, I was almost out of bike chain lubricant, and they carry that too.

Over the years, we’ve learned to travel light with just carry-on backpacks, even for month-long trips. For our Scotland hike, we’re bringing hiking poles, which must be checked. Dwight found a sturdy, 3-ply box in our building’s recycling area, which turned out to be just the right size despite my doubts. In Glasgow, we’ll swap the poles for our noise-canceling headphones and other items we won’t need on the trail, then mail the box to a post office to collect at the end of our hike.

Later this month, we’ll hike the Rob Roy Way in Scotland. I abandoned Sir Walter Scott’s Rob Roy, irritated by the convoluted prose and historical inventions. Instead, I found a solid history book and used it, along with Wikipedia, to map out some actual locations (as blue pins) from Rob Roy’s life. Red pins mark our hotels. The Clachan Inn, once owned by his sister, is the only Rob Roy pin on our trail, so we will have to sample it.

Visited the Minneapolis Institute of Art to view Utagawa Hiroshige’s “One Hundred Famous Views of Edo” (1856). In 2011, artist Emily Allchurch photographed some of these same locations. I’m planning a multi-day hike across Tokyo that includes remnants of Tokyo when it was Edo (pre-1868). I’m collecting materials and layering historical maps over Google Maps. The city has faced destruction more than once, yet traces of its past remain.

Cycled with a friend to a favorite perch overlooking BNSF’s Northtown Yard. It’s huge: 105 miles of track processing 1,500 railcars every day.

Spotted this Waymo in the wild today. They’re currently being trained for our harsh climate. I’m looking forward to having vehicles on our streets that actually stop at pedestrian crossings, pause before right turns on red, and never run red lights.

Rode a crowded light rail train to what might be the largest protest in Minnesota history. Along the way, we sang the national anthem. At one point, the train passed a senior living building where residents lined the road, some in wheelchairs, holding up their own signs. No kings, no ICE, no war.

My walk included a tutoring session at the Franklin Library and a bison melt at the Minneapolis American Indian Center. Along the way, signs reminded us we are well past the time for silence.

The sun was rising as I left this morning, the start of a long day that eventually wound down at a local restaurant we had not tried before. We enjoyed dishes with names ending in au vin and en croûte while comparing notes about our day.