I got into a discussion during a game of pick-up ultimate frisbee awhile ago, about the idea of impermanence. How often we take for granted something that is not meant to last. I think the discussion focused on being at peace with the struggle, or at least learning to tolerate the fact that things break, fall apart, perish or graduate into irrelevant obsequity long before our appreciation and use for them ends. I still have a favorite backpack that I want repaired, but Timbuk2 sent it back to me because it was too dirty to repair, so I'll wash it, pay to ship it to California, pay again to have it repaired, and then set it aside because I have been happy as a clam with my Exped backpack.
I tell myself I need the reserve, and I often do, but it would be more efficient to buy a new bag than repair this old one, (again.) So I fail, I guess. I don't realize the banality of pursuing happiness in a familiar object that should be discarded, or a trinket that will eventually be forgotten if lost. I think tattoos also figured into the discussion somehow; that maybe a tattoo's permanence was a way of reminding someone of their own impermanence, and grounding that person to a tangible and relevant feeling of self worth over covetting some material object that could be lost or discarded without any immediately tangible consequence.
So what have I been doing in the past year?
I haven't been reading as much, or catching as many carp, I know that. I haven't caught a carp on a fly rod since 2020, when I found a few schooling in a feeder stream to the Minnesota River. It wasn't the most adventurous catch but there it was, a carp on a fly rod. As far as reading goes .... pfffft. Maybe a dozen books in all of 2021, at best. I did read Isabel Wilkerson's book "Caste", and "The Coyote's Bicycle: The Untold Story of 7,000 bicycles and the Rise of a Borderland Empire", by Kimball Taylor - both of which I enjoyed. "Fat of the Land" by Langdon Cook had some pretty amazing stories of foraging and fishing; I'd recommend any of them if those things interest you.
I upgraded my bicycle last year, and have been enjoying it immensely. It turns out my old bicycle had a cracked fork, and after getting a second opinion on it, I am now waiting, (probably until ice cream melts in Hell) to hear if Felt will warranty that 2011 carbon fork. I rode a single speed mountain bike all winter, and going back to a bike with gears has been great.
Compared to the studded tires I had been riding since 2013, (I'd guess they were 38 MM and washed out on me three times in 2020 and once in 2019) the 45 NRTH Khava tires, (29 X 2.25") were solid, a little floaty on some conditions but definitely worked better than the skinnier studded tires.
Prior to winter, I got to Colorado again and visited Gunnison and Crested Butte. I stayed at a hostel in Gunnison called The Wanderlust and it was great, though my bed was a cotton mattress on a sheet of plywood. The fishing and sight seeing was fantastic - I didn't do much bike riding even though Crested Butte sounds like it was neck and neck with Marin County for ownership to the Clunker Hall of Fame. Check out that documentary Clunkerz, if you haven't already, it's pretty rad.
I am, and have been gainfully employed as a footwear specialist at Midwest Mountaineering for almost 42 months now... that's 3.5 years. Adittedly I have never disclosed much about my personal life here because there is Twitter and Facebook and Instagram and Tumblr and Flickr and if even 1 person wanted to contact me directly you could have at this point, and only my cousin Maureen (Hi Mo!) has, which is okay. Suffice to say I had an extended period of self-reflection and inactivity I would like to never experience again.
I like my job. It has rewarding moments as well as temporary setbacks. I try to focus on the positive interactions, and tolerate the uncertainty of actually knowing if they are indeed, positive. As the great Irish writer George Bernard Shaw once said, "The single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has taken place.”
All photos by Michael McKinney
