Less often than not, we pause and take skyward-look inward and ask, why do I do what I do? On my last morning in Duluth, after a disappointing Spirit Mtn jaunt, I woke from comfort around 6 a.m. and looked at my bike and thought…”…another day…?”
OH! But not another day. On this day, I would arrive at a trailhead after skimming through west of town and turning the steering wheel north. I would change into riding clothes by the side of the car as the sun was still coming up. I would clip into the pedals and eek the sleep from my bones.
I would soon say, “Piedmont packs a little punch. Wake up!”
Some rocks, like turtle shells, with an occasional cocktail mixer of slabs of stone and roots along twist and turns on a high hill area above town nearly concealed by suburbia answered my question: It’s to find out what you don’t already know.
Know-it-all, I can be, was smiling as muscles tensed and sweat beaded up and I had thoughts of, “watch your line, else you might get botched up.”
I didn’t know I’d ride, for the first time, with my favorite tree: white birch. When I saw them (personified…yes, they are sentient beings, one with you and me), I had another answer to my skyward-inward question: I do what I do because it’s what makes my wheels spin ’round.
The farmer planting the year’s crop.
The dancer tying her ballerina shoes.
The climber reaching for the peak.
The flower turning towards the light.
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This made me smile while walking through the Sculpture Park in Minneapolis:
Playful. Whimsy. Fun.
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