“Logging on” –for real!
MigFig jingled me up and lured me out for a ride mid-day yesterday.
“We’ll do the shady route” he promised. And up the hill we went.
Marin’s hills hide man-made lakes richly reward the reluctant climber with the kind of view–a lake, or a even just a patch of blue in the blur of trees–that make Being Outdoors such a natural high. (Sorry, I have to give the lakes a bit of ‘product placement’, since they–along with the hills protected in ‘perfectuity’ for public enjoyment–are the reason mountain bikes got such a great send-off from here (even though we know perfectly well wherever there were bikes and dirt roads, there were Urmountain bikers).
These days, after an hour’s pre-dawn swim, any activity is …well, extra credit. And so I barely do anything else, unless prodded, in this summer weather we’re finally getting.
I ‘d been carrying around Thoreau’s comment about needing a minimum of four hour’s walk per day, so out I went, and immediately improved my day by subtracting hours of potential computer time.
Mig was uncharacteristically slow. It almost seemed like my pace…thus we rolled an hour’s ride into a two-hour photo session.
He’s reforming–he’d burnt out last year–by taking it easy on purpose. Not exhausting himself. This made it easier for me to also go more…’gently’…so there was ample time to shoot pix of me at my favorite play-station, a neatly sectioned tree trunk in a jagged line. Perfect for hand-foot-butt-eye coordination practice. That first log is about eighteen inches high, and takes some conviction to hop up on.
Since I know this fun little amenity is made of mere wood, it will melt into the Lagunitas landscape.
THis blog was simply to document it.
I was too stupid to save my photos of the 130 year old cabin below the dam of Lagunitas…that the MMWD demolished without any public input, only sad outcry from Brad Rippe and myself. It was around 3-3-03…a date that will go down in infamy because THAT was the day I got about three octogenarian history buffs (notably Jim Vitek,Nancy Skinner and Fred Sandrock) plus one youngster (Phil Frank) to have lunch with me and tell stories about Marin Water District’s colorful , boozy past.
And then the head ranger came along and confiscated my tape…
But that is another story. Here’s Mig, and a flower–a solitary pea that caught my eye.