2013 Red Ride

The Commuters, Photo by Michael McKinney

At this point, I half expect somebody to pull up on a Surly Cross Check and tell me I'm riding on two different sized wheels.  I can almost hear the way he or she would express disdain for my naive attempt at riding in the city, not really getting anywhere that doesn't have coffee for less than three dollars a cup:  "Dude, I know you blog and shit.  But, you're riding a 27 inch front wheel with a 26 inch rear, you just gave me the finger and there's a really bad smell in your draft.  Nice try."

That is of course, without addressing the copious issues I have with Sudoku and the New York Times Crossword.

That being said, it was providential to be included as a guest on the 2013 Saint John's University Almuni Cycling Club's Red Ride in and around Stearns County, Minnesota.  To get there, I could have used the route I rode in 2011, from the Basilica in Minneapolis to the Marcel Breuer bell tower, roughly 100 miles later.  Being fortunate to have the option, I chose rather to invest in new components, the skill of a Freewheel mechanic to fine tune them and public transportation to Saint Johns - though I missed an additional few hundred miles of cycling, I think the investment was wise.

The ride left St. John's on Saturday morning, June 22nd, and was a fast and enjoyable tour - many skilled riders were participating and I felt at ease in the group.  One outstanding difference between riding a bicycle in the city and riding through farming communities is the lack of distractions.  A rider in the city might have to stop and start many times between here and there, for stop signs, red lights, walkers, dog walkers, very young children weaving on small bicycles as their parents watch nervously, runners, possums...you can imagine.

Once a group is settled in and a pace is set, given the capacity for the road one is riding on, the distractions become fewer and the objective becomes less about avoiding collisions and more about spinning the turbines, tuning into the other riders and maintaining a cadence commensurate with the group.  Getting to Saturday morning took a lot more than I can dictate, but a train ride, a bus ride and a big hoagie at Bo Diddley's was a perfect start.

I returned home on Saturday night and got back to riding in and through Minneapolis and St. Paul, stopping at the Minneapolis Farmers Market and collecting water as a volunteer with the Minnesota Pollution Control Agency for the Minnehaha Watershed District, reading and occasionally investigating the many gastronomic treasures of the area.  I am happy to report a new bicycle has been purchased, though it took months of lay away.

I rode my Felt F75X for the first time last night and after bunny hopping a couple of curbs and scorching some dirt trails, I nailed an exposed man hole cover and double pinched.  I walked the remaining mile home, hoping it wasn't inoperable.

Here are some photos of the June 22nd weekend.

Finishing the 2013 Red Ride, Courtesy of the Saint John's University Alumni Association.

Minneapolis Farmer's Market Vegetables, Photo by Michael McKinney

Lake Sagatagan, Photo by Michael McKinney

Felt F75x, Photo by Michael McKinney

Spring Pottery

Red Earth Pottery, Photo by Michael McKinney

Glazed, fired, greenware pottery, Photo by Michael McKinney

Lake Harriet, Minneapolis.  Photo by Michael McKinney

Snapping turtle, Minneapolis.  Photo by Michael McKinney.

With the last of winter finally letting go sometime around May, I registered for another six week pottery course through the Saint Paul Community Education Program.  This six week course covered throwing basic vessels, glazing and firing in a small volume, low heat kiln and took place in a different studio than previous classes.  The clay was also different, utilizing Red Earthen Ware clay rather than the Raku clay I had gotten accustomed to over the past year.


As the reader might accurately predict, I was disappointed with my results.  By my count, that leaves 9,900 pieces of pottery to be thrown before I can call myself a master potter, meanwhile the rivers streams and lakes are full of fish - I went fly fishing on Lake Harriet and Minnehaha Creek last week and caught a mess of panfish, (a bluegill, a pumpkinseed, some sunnies and a couple of crappies) and a Smallmouth Bass.

Of course, a few got away.  Robert Traver has a great story about his fishing rig, and the appropriate amount of fly fishing equipment to carry to and from one's destination while using this vehicle.  A veritable feast of spacial management, a Doctor Who's Tartus of nets, poles, fly boxes, waders, creels and coolers stacked under the seats and behind the passenger compartment.


Riding my bicycle with a fly rod and a pair of stinking running shoes I use for wading isn't what he had in mind I'm sure, and the assumption is that some things are better left unexplained, for want of encouraging fools to try...not that it stopped me from lashing my St. Croix Avid 5 Weight to my horizental tube, loading up my messenger bag and standing in the foulest smelling water I could find for three hours.


Two big events later this month are taking up some of my discretionary thinking - The Saint John's University Red Ride Century and the City of Lakes Loppet Tri-Loppet.  Both events I have participated in before, and both events I would encourage anybody else to as well.

Wednesday, May 15th

DIY Pizza, photo by Michael McKinney

With Farmers Markets opening and spring already turning into summer, (yesterday the temperature spiked to over ninety degrees), the Minneapolis lakes have opened, the winds have become more formidable and the lack of mild weather has changed to more severe and unpredictable patterns.  Last Saturday I bicycled to the Saint Paul Lowertown Farmer's Market and spoke with another cyclist who had just been caught out in a brief hailstorm, though I later saw MPR news reported the brief hail was more of a Graupel.  Whatever, ice cubes from the sky, I say hail.
I made a pizza with some asparagus, Feta cheese, brocoli, and tried to discern the difference between tomato paste and tomato

Cranberry / Walnut Bread, Photo by Michael McKinney

Lake Calhoun, Photo by Michael McKinney

 sauce, but they seemed both to be palatable.  I followed that up with making bread on monday night, two yeast-risen loaves made with organic flour, walnuts and cranberries.  I lacked a sweetener though, so I used a cup and a half of confectioners sugar, some almond extract and a teaspoon of cardamom.

After riding and blogging about the half-century last week, a ride out to Stillwater seemed appropriate.  The route I took utilized half of the Gateway trail, then wound past Lake Jane to County Road 12, then a rapid descent on Myrtle street to downtown, and a rapid ascent up Chilkoot hill to Chestnut street.

I stopped in at Chilkoot Cafe, a bicycle shop and bakery / cafe located across the street from The Bikery, another bike shop and bakery / cafe.  Although I worked at The Bikery in 2008-2009, I don't frequent either establishment enough to have become cynical of their products or their clientele.  The lemon bread tasted like it had been made with Meyers lemons grown from the tears of unicorns.  Simply that good.

Red Earthen Ware, Green and Bisqued, Photo by Michael McKinney

I am including a review from Goodreads I wrote about a book called The Imperfectionists, concerning a failing English newspaper in Rome, Italy.  It's not a bad book, and doesn't have any limiting factor to its success other than being a bit esoteric.  If you really enjoy the thought of living by a deadline, and being pursued by editors for some jingoistic malaise on the human condition, it might be right up your alley.

The Imperfectionists by Tom Rachman
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

The newspaper industry is dangerous to Basset Hounds.  Because the internet is dangerous to the newspaper industry.  Therefore, Basset Hounds invented the internet.

I didn't get much from this novel, just some anecdotes about journalism, the vainglorious lifestyles of foreign correspondents, some mild hedonism and a blatant disregard for reporting accuracy in favor of manipulating the public at their won expense.  Does a certain politician pose a threat to your industry?  Why not punish that person with disreputable articles?  Punish them first with fallacy, and again with the truth.  Make their honest and best work seem underhanded and duplicitous by misinterpreting their words and actions.
That is what journalism is about, selling copy.
Making money.
Creating furor in order to pull back the layers of deception and reveal...journalism.


View all my reviews

Finally - I don't want to speak too soon, but if it's one thing I've learned about cycling the Minneapolis Lakes, don't go the wrong way.  Folks are really serious about the unidirectional signals for each lake.  A couple of years ago I almost got clotheslined by an irate Rollerblader.

Half Century

This being the first week since the spring Equinox that hasn't had an unprecedented snowfall, and the Specialized Allez, with a new double crank was staring at me, taunting, almost daring me to get out and ride, I spent yesterday on a three hour tour around Lake Minnetonka, via the Geenway and the Luce Line.  The ride was great - no technicals, no flats, other riders getting out and knocking off the last of winter's grip were in good spirits and a light wind from the SouthEast emboldened me at the start and humbled me at the finish.  Like a good drink.

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Since re-configuring the Allez, I've been riding it around town as I still don't own a car, and riding safely is less expensive and less restricting than buying bus passes.  That being said, I spent some time on tuesday at a sewing studio in Minneapolis patching a pair of jeans.  A friend has been bartering her skills and artistry, (trading pottery and bread for her time), in order to keep me from appearing too raggorous.  Raggedy.  Comprised of rags.  I guess the term is "Distressed".
Here are a couple of photos of that project, including the distressed jeans, before and after being patched, again.

Photo by Michael McKinney, at Sewtropolis

Photo by Michael McKinney, at Sewtropolis

Photo by Michael McKinney, Hamline Avenue bridge

Photo by Michael McKinney, Como Lake

Photo by Michael McKinney

Triple to Double, DIY part three

Photo by Michael McKinney

I've been waiting to convert the factory drivetrain on my Specialized Allez Sport for a few months now.  After consulting a few different sources, including an estimate for a comprehensive overhaul from my nearest Specialized dealer, I decided to take it upon myself and consult the Park Tools Blue Book and Minneapolis's own Freewheel Midtown Bike Center for a DIY appointment.

Photo by Michael McKinney

Photo by Michael McKinney

The long story is I had to buy two bus passes, walk a few miles, buy lunch, dinner and snacks throughout the day, rode without a helmet, traveled through Saint Paul, Minneapolis and Roseville, and finally parodied my lack of integrity.  Deja Vu.

The short story is, "Hey, I took a picture!"

Photo by Michael McKinney

I also recently enrolled in another pottery session through Saint Paul's Community Education program, and have been learning the differences between an electric wheel and a more primitive kick wheel, and made some loaves of a walnut and cranberry bread I'd like to share with ya'll.

Take care.

Photo by Michael McKinney

Photo by Michael McKinney

Review of Atonement

Atonement by Ian McEwan
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

There is a moment in this novel that hinges the entrance and the exit together.  Cecelia's landlady, asking Briony, "Are you in or are you out?"  The whole story of one person's mistake leading to a lifetime of doubt and second guessing can be balanced easily on that question.  Mcewan's skill in painting the whole story around outliving the past or carrying it with you as a balast is so impressive, it is easy to see past the simplicity.  The finer points of the novel, the vernacular, the common usage of british idioms, the subtlety of youth, the perniciousness of lust, the blind destruction of war all converge in the reader's palms.
The proclivity to accept sensationalism when it appeals to an audience is also evident, and any reader familiar with Annie Proulx or Norman Mailer might recognize tones of sexual predation leading to damaged lives - those knots tied in youth are permanent and as Mcewan convinces us, impossible to atone for.  The most appropriate response seems to be learning ones own pride is the strongest reason.


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Rainy Saturday

Between waiting for passing traffic, negotiating a left turn against steady traffic, the rain, the cold, the lingering puddles of icy slush, the passive aggressive Minnesota Nice drivers who are trying so hard to try harder than my worst effort at being a considerate cyclist, the Farmer's Market not being open and puzzling a sudoku puzzle for a couple hours, the day was not what I would call overtly enjoyable. Or fun.
Other terminology escapes me.
So, besides a few well worn, time-tested vices that inescapably lead to ruin, what can a person turn to?
I don't know.
If I did, would I share it here?
One thing, besides toast, or a companion animal, or going crazy broadway style, (requires a slushy made of pure syrup) I occasionally resort to Jiffy cornbread.
Master the one egg, 1/3 Cup of milk, and you might add yogurt, or chocolate chips, or bananas. Or all three.
This is not an endorsement, or therapeutic advice, if I could take back the various poorly handled interactions that dictated my bike ride today I would. In lieu of a time machine, I offer Jiffy cornbread. Seriously.
There are still eleven.

*Footnote - due to the low grade quality of this pre-packaged product, I strongly suggest sifting the mix before adding anything to it. Those Tenebrio Obscurus eggs are everywhere.