Urban Assault!

Sunday morning Tony Liuzzi and I met at Peace Coffee in Minneapolis for the annual Urban Assault race. The aggression in the name is misleading - this is mostly about a bunch of bikers getting together for what they call the nation's largest bicycle scavenger hunt.  It is an alley cat race, which means that there isn't a specific route - riders are requested to keep legal but are left to their own devices for navigation.  We were given five locations in advance, a clue to the sixth, and instructions that we would get a clue to the seventh at the sixth stop.  The race had about 350 teams competing, and Tony and I had jokingly given ourselves about a two - two and a half percent chance of winning.  To spur us along, C had raced it last year and placed first in the women's division - I was hoping for top twenty-five percent to be honest; I had a cold and am not in great biking shape.

Having meticulously planned out our route, Tony mentioned the morning of the race that he had heard that lines had slowed racers down in the past and that last year's winners had gone the opposite direction and won.  Our route - the logical route - put us at the 'mystery stop' first, where we would get our final clue.  This gave us the widest latitude location wise - there was little risk of needing to backtrack if we were just starting.  Going the opposite way, we were banking that the stop would be in south MPLS, given the density of stops north of 94.  We hit the trail hard, almost the first ones out of the chute.  We were shortly on the west side of Hiawatha with no one behind us - seemingly everyone else went the other way.  We crossed 55 on the pedestrian bridge at 24th, and saw that several other racers had the same idea we did and had caught the light at 28th where we started.  Slightly discouraged so early in the race, we stuck with our plan - duck off the Hiawatha trail at the Franklin Light Rail station and head to Midwest Mountaineering via Cedar.  This was the first of two decisions that put us in the lead - we were the first to our first task - assembling blocks to form the Clif Bar logo.

From there the course was fairly quiet until we got to Theo Wirth, where we started meeting traffic coming the other way round.  At the Walker, our next stop, we were stopped by lines.  For me this was lucky - I had felt the cold I have been carrying around (thank you high schoolers) the entire race, and the stretch from Theo Wirth to the Walker (a savvy one where we picked up some time) had been tough on me and I was winded.  I sling-shot a pair of shoes into Tony's basket and we were on our way to Loring, where we hoped fervently that we would not be sent back North.

The clue, as we had heard, was a photo of a place.  While Tony checked about the rules (we had to deliver a Jack Link jerky wrapper), I saw the photo - it might have been my own house.  It was the Birchwood; not only my neighborhood cafe, but practically my second home for years now.  Tony and I zipped off to make the checkpoint, along with our final stop; the Cardinal bar on 38th and Hiawatha.

We were pretty optimistic at this point - there were not many people ahead of us that we knew of, though of course we could have missed people going the other way round.  We passed two teams going the other direction on Haiwatha, made the stop and headed back.

In the end we finished very well - 6th place overall!  I've actually checked the Urban Assault website a few times to make sure it is real (it is here if you want to see it).  I'm hoping Tony and I will have some fun photos from some of the stops - we made a good team.

It was hot on race day (9/11) and it was hot yesterday (9/12).  But TODAY.  My GOODness.  It is fall, suddenly and magnificently.  Last night I stood in the street for a time with the wind blow from the west and feeling the weather change.  Finally biking to school does not reduce me to a pile of sweat.  Finally it is just a little bit cold when I wake up in the morning.  I can enter the world, rather than waking up to that atmospheric void where the air feels like an extension of my skin and there is nothing between my soul and the lack of a breeze.  It is a much better feeling to encounter a chill in the air - to bike into warmth, up from the river.  The leave are just starting to think about shifting; last week walking home at night I smelled that first hint of fall in the sweet rotting smell of the leaves on the ground.  That smell holds so much promise for me.  Fall is a portentous time - Halloween, harvest - it feels much more like a beginning than a new year.  Maybe that's because I've been on an academic calendar almost my entire life.  Anyway, it is about to be a very beautiful time in the Twin Cities - I am sad that once again I will see October without C, but she will be back here soon enough.  Thanks for reading!

And The Stages After That ...

The summer having passed with considerable incident, only in the past few days finding my toes in the normal puddle, tonight awakened me to a long dormant desire to write, to account in public for the happenstance of my life.  Tonight two entirely incidental decisions aligned something - tapped into something, and my not being a terribly spiritual man, I am at something of a stubborn loss.  Anyway, here they are.

This weekend is my first weekend off of school (as in a break from teaching) since traveling - it is my full return to my life.  This weekend my brother celebrated his union with Lara, his Sufi spouse and mother of his impending daughter.  This weekend landed in my life with emphasis and seemed to converge upon me from several angles, these finding their homes in me tonight.

Tonight I decided, after a lovely brunch with our now merged families, to take a stab at grading papers.  I walked to Tracy's of all places as I knew I would not be distracted by acquaintances or tempted by Birchwood deserts (these being the fruits of my return home).  Rather I ordered a burger and a Surly Cynic - pretty much exactly what I would have used three wishes for when traveling.  I walked to Tracy's and noticed a bookstore (where 'Arise' used to be, off Franklin) and stopped in to pick up the book club book "Don't Sleep, There Are Snakes."  One of the two people working asked after my reasons for buying that - I mentioned the book club, she sd that her book club "Former Fundamentalists" just read that.  Well that lead to an interesting conversation.  While they did not have the book, they did have volunteer opportunities (they are entirely volunteer run) to work the shop and deliver books by bicycle.  Whell.  That was up my alley so I signed up - I have been for some time hoping to find a position to work part time in addition to teaching - a sort of second career - working in a bookstore would not be a bad place to start.

So that settled, I sat myself down in Tracy's to my Cynic and burger and graded about 80 Sophomore papers.  The burger was good (with tater tots) and the beer was spot on.  As I was wrapping up, I noticed two people across the room get two tequila shots at their table (this generally does not escape notice) - one exclaimed that she had forgotten how much bigger shots were in the states.  "In the states ..."

Bob and I had breakfast at the Highland Grill a week ago - he was in town with Adina and their lovely kids Kian and Iulia.  I chatted with a fella sitting behind me who PAID FOR OUR BREAKFAST because I taught at CDH, where he had attended some years ago.  This favor has sat somewhat elevated in my consciousness since then.  I gathered my things and paid for their drinks along with my own and headed on my way.

On my way home, I decided to walk down 24th rather than 22nd as I usually do.  At 22nd and 30th, I heard zydeco music, unmistakable.  I turned the corner and listened as this group of musicians sang and played in the back porch of the host of this magical looking party.  I watched for a while, a couple approached from the other direction and went in through the gate, a path I was tempted on myself but for my shyness, and I waited for their next song.  I stood for a while listening; they were excellent musicians, and then I went on my way home.  I had however become resolved (and not for the first time) to purchase a Clarinet and teach myself to play it.  An adventure from my living room.  A foray back into music.  And besides, I told Ben Tierney I would pay for his sailboat if I failed to get one.

It has not been a neutral summer, nor a neutral past year, and my feelings and self have not gone unmolested by the trip or my return to Minnesota.  I have wrestled with continuing to write in this blog.  Until tonight I have not felt compelled to do so - and being compelled is a pretty solid reason to get back into it.  I have struggled to explain what it has felt like, being back, or traveling itself, and I wonder if this is the way to process it.  Every time I talk about it I bring myself a little closer to understanding it myself, and even out of the way questions such as 'what was it like' draw me out.  Tonight I found myself with too much thought, memories too emotionally clear to not share them and I moved slowly away from my opportunities to do so; at my parent's house, at the bookstore, and Tracy's, from the party on 24th.  I toyed momentarily with breaking off my shyness and asking for my entry into the party, but I remembered this forum, this venue for my overflown thoughts.  I knew that if I went inside I would spend some of those thoughts and I would not have enough for this entry.  Maybe it is C being once again out of my immediate reach; I am at a loss without her ear sometimes.  I cannot speak to any regularity here, but I have heard often enough kind words about reading my entries to encourage me to overcome my anxiety of hubris and toss a few more entries on the wall.  Let's see if it sticks.  Thanks for reading.  

The Final Stages

Poland and a few final days in Stockholm wrapped up my seven month excursion abroad.  It was a gentle conclusion to what has been at times a tumultuous journey.  As promised, here are Torun and Gdansk, our last stops on our Spring Break '11 tour.  I'll throw in a few stories and images from Stockholm for good measure.

Torun was another lovely Polish town - like Krakow it's entire old city area is a UNESCO heritage site, and deservedly so.  C and I spent most of our time wandering around - we did visit the Copernicus museum (which was essentially his family home with some copies of artifacts in it) and sampled some Polish honey beer and wine at a farmer's market.  But mostly we enjoyed the slow pace of the town.  Here are some photos:

The waterfront - not quite as nice as Krakow

The streets of Torun

A bloomin tree!

A dog cooling it on a door mantle

Gdansk was an even more abbreviated stay than Torun - just an afternoon, but we still managed to enjoy the city a great deal AND almost miss our flight out (even having arrived C early - which is earlier than Kevin early).  Gdansk was just as picturesque (seemed like all of Poland was picturesque) as Torun and Krakow.  It also had a waterfront and many beautiful churches.  We stopped into one massive church on Saturday evening after dinner and stumbled upon the Easter Vigil mass!  We walked in early and were able to watch the candle lighting ceremony (I could make out the 'Alpha and Omega' but not much else - though I did recognize the tune of the song they sang as they processed up) which was lovely.  The church was magnificent - I did not get any photos of the inside, but you could look at any of the other images I have posted and you would get the idea.  This one had been hit by the reformation and was a little white-washed, but still arresting and beautiful.  Here are a few images of Gdansk:

Train station - picturesque no?

A very neat building next to a stream

Iconic Gdansk waterfront

A street in the old town

Our trip out of Gdansk, as I mentioned, was not devoid of some unintended action sequences.  We flew Wizz-Air, as I think I mentioned, who required us to drop our one bag and make our way to the gate fussing and worrying over the dimensions of our carry-ons (C's being on the oversize, I encouraged her to avoid the check-in lady - the source of our later woes).  We got to our gate area (we were told gate 6 or 7) and cooled our heels a moment or twenty, and watched the stewards approach the gate area and the people get restless - we decided to jump the line and both were among the first through the gate (seat yourself on the low-cost carriers).  This was fortunate, because as I was told 'wrong flight,' C was told that she needed to have her boarding pass checked against her passport by a check-in official - on the other side of security.  Our real line was forming at this point, I hop into it, suggest that C might not actually need to go all the way back (she finds that she does) and hold our position.  We have a 1/2 till the flight goes, plenty of time.  To be on the safe side I brainstorm and begin rehearsing various stalling methods to have them hold the gate for her.  She was back in 10 minutes - record time, having negotiated with the info people (the check-in counter being closed).  And we boarded and sighed our way back to Stockholm.  To the best of my knowledge, this passport check system involved the check-in person seeing her passport, stamping it, and sending her through the gate.  Of course, the check-in people are the same people at the gate, the same people on the flight.  Ordinary airline workers - not security, not officials.  WTF say I.

Anyway - we enjoyed a few days in Stockholm in lovely weather.  We saw the 17th century ship Vasa on a cloudy day, had coffee, relaxed.  Here are some final Stockholm photos:

Tulips!  

Nelson and Mel preparing us an Easter dinner!  Note the tequila sunrises (picturesque no?)

C in a diving bell (in the running for my favorite image of the trip)

The Vasa

more info here

Mel, me, Nelson and Kyle saying ttfn

C arranged a goodbye evening in a Stockholm blues bar

The next day I got my things packed up and headed home.  I've been in town for a few days, working on getting my bearings (and my luggage).  I am sorting out stories and emotions and will continue to post reflections here.  Thanks for reading!  

Polska (a long-ish journey)

Howdy!  It's been a busy travel week for me, though it was the last leg for a while - more on that later.  For now, we have Poland to talk about!  My friend Alex expressed a desire to see something 'happy' in Poland, saying he thought it was the saddest place on earth.  While Poland has not often enjoyed national sovereignty, and it's periods of outside rule have included the Nazis and the Soviets, the country has many beautiful architectural and cultural marvels, and Krakow, with it's circle park and trumpeter are no exception (can you tell that I'm writing this with internet access and some time?  Good old links).  C and I spent a total of four days in Krakow (the final an unintended consequence of a transportation mix-up) before moving on to the equally picturesque Polish town of Torun.

I had traveled through Krakow once before in 2001, on my 'study abroad' European tour.  Nick Pawlowksi hosted me there for two days and I remembered distinctly the parks around the old city (where the walls used to be) and the parks along the river where Nick and I spent an afternoon.  C and I also enjoyed an afternoon of lazing by the river enjoying pear vodka and tonic water in the 70 degree sun.  It was one of the most peaceful afternoons of my trip.  Other highlights include hearing a concert in a 14th century Church of St Peter and St Paul, touring the great salt mine of Wieliczka (will-itch-ka), and spending a number of afternoons sitting in the center of Krakow, admiring it's churches and tower and spring atmosphere.  So, for you Alex, some happy pictures of Krakow:

Note the decoration on the top 

Church of St Mary

The Trumpeter!  (look closely)

Inside Church of St Mary

The central square - the Trumpter lived in the church in the background

View from the same spot - towards the tower

The Tower

Fearsome guard of the tower

The Church where we heard the concert

A portion of the wall at nighttime

Center square with maypoles (I think)

The church!  (again)

On our third day, one of the very few cloudy days we had while traveling, we visited the Wielizcka salt mine - the 14th oldest corporation in the world (!).  The mine was lovely, much more open than the underground city we visited in Turkey, and much warmer than the silver mine we saw in Salbohed Sweden.  We toured a very small part of it (3% I think?), and saw many lovely statues and carvings, along with a few chapels and what they called an underground cathedral.  Everything was salt - the walls, carvings, even the chandelier - and while some of it was white and chrystally, most was the dull gray of rock salt.  It was an impressive tour - I hope the photos can do it justice:

Everything was made from wood and rope - everything else corroded like crazy 

The story is long but basically the princess inherited a Hungarian salt mine, but then they found salt in Poland (white gold), with her ring in it - this is the first bit of salt mined, found when they were digging a well

These dudes would crawl in to burn off methane - 1 in 10 died

Salt stalagtites

Old stairs

In the chapel

Everything carved from salt

Additionally, all of the carvings were done by miners - not professional sculptors

Salt chandelier - 2,000 pieces

JP2 - who was from the area

Support structure in the mine

After our Krakow visit and more transportation troubles than I've ever had in that short a period of time, we arrived in Torun, a small, similarly lovely town in Northern Poland.  Transportation mis-adventures take one: on our way home from the salt mine, we were told to hop a bus for the 15 minute trip back to town.  We did so, onto a packed bus - no ticket machine in sight, the driver a long way off.  We had just decided to try our luck when it ran out and a ticket checker guy came on (with a security helper who got in the face of someone who had our backs when we complained that there were NO indications of how one might get a ticket, nor a machine anywhere in sight) - alas to no avail.  We got off the bus, Corinne doing the talking, and we got ticketed for one count of freeloading (a 35 dollar bus ride - ouch) but less than a two count.  And C is not under warrant in a Prussian state.  Phew!  Take two: on our first attempt to leave Krakow, I asked for two tickets for the 942 to Torun, and was sold two tickets for a trip to Torun - only they were for the 930, which is a 'regional' train, not express, and did not have assigned seats, and was not for the 942 which we were not allowed to board.  This was confusing because nothing on the ticket indicated much at all other than Krakow to Torun (regional tickets are not for specific times).  Fine fine, we spent another day.  Take three: the next day, when we DID get tickets for the 942 express to Torun with a change in Warsaw, we found that we had tickets for the wrong rail company, whose trains alternated hourly with the one we were on.  So basically we had to buy new tickets on the train for the second leg of our journey and ask for some of our money back for our unused ticket in Torun.  Take four: after Torun and Gdansk (which I will detail for you in a moment) we found the Gdansk airport no problem and I checked my bag with our airline Wizz-Air, which was a classy and inexpensive as it sounds.  Corinne, having checked in online, did not check in at the airport.  So when we were in line to board (open seating on low-cost carriers in Europe), she was told that she needed to have her ID checked before she would be allowed to board.  Luckily by a mistake of mine, we were in the wrong line anyway and had a half hour.  Still, not a terribly comfortable amount of time for someone to journey back through security to the check-in counter (closed) to get her ticket stamped.  She was back in 10 minutes and we, breathing deeply, were on our way back to Sweden.

I'll toss a few final photos of Poland and a description of our time in Torun and Gdansk on the next entry - this one is too long as it is.  Thanks for reading!  

Von Deutschland!

Hello team!  I am writing from Krakow Poland, after a lovely three day stay in Berlin on the hospitality of Irina, who graciously offered us her Berlin apartment.  We saw some impressive cultural memoria, as well as the populous and architecture of the German capitol, and Corinne wasn't arrested on arrival!  In all, a satisfying trip.  Here are a few highlights.  

We arrived in Berlin on Wednesday April 13, me from Rome and C from Stockholm.  C, having arrived three hours before me, assumed control of Berlin and had our transportation and finances arranged for our three day stay in the city.  That first day was pretty slow, we stopped at a cafe on our way in, along with a grocery store with Michael, Irina's partner and our secondary host, and ate in and bedded early.  

The following day we undertook the post-war history of Berlin, which became our focus for our short stay.  We attempted the Dali museum, found it closed, and wandered over to the German history museum.  On the way we saw the Jewish memorial - a 'cemetery' of concrete blocks filling a city block in central Berlin.  It was a dreary rainy day, and C and I took in the gravity and power of the monument.  Here are a few photographs of the blocks, arranged in cemetery fashion to great effect.  

The block varied in height and the ground level changed, creating multiple perspectives and effects

The walk ways and some of the police force

An overview of sorts - the blocks in middle are 8 or 9 feet up from the walkways

An eye level view

After the memorial, we passed the Brandenburg along with a main drag of central Berlin, often crossing paths with police columns escorting tinted Audi's carrying the western world's diplomats to and from meetings of NATO, convening in Berlin to discuss Libya.  The constant stream of police, as well as the drone of helicopters, blocked roads and assumed proximity of Hilary Clinton made us feel very important indeed.  Amidst the excitement we visited the German history museum and saw the Rome and Europe through the eyes of the Vandal and Saxons (who just wanted to settle in Roman territory is all).  From the sound of it, the Germans were building cities and princedoms while the rest of Europe was killing each other or succumbing to the plague.  In my version of history lay a dark period from the fall of Rome in the 5^th century to the Italian renaissance of the 14^th century.  However, it seems like the Prussians were at this time leading the charge of civilization, building castles and centers of learning in and around the dark forests and mountains of eastern Europe. 

As we somewhat expected, Berlin was often colored by its postwar history (of course, we also toured these areas specifically).  The history museum had broad sections on pre and post war propaganda with exhibits demonstrating the nuance of the National Socialists rise to power (I for one had grossly oversimplified that process – many people warned about the extreme right and Hitler specifically) with special attention paid to the death camps.  I can only imagine how a curator might handle the construction and placement and wording of that diorama -  (poetry and art after the holocaust is barbaric, according to Theodor Adorno).  After enjoying the museum, we continued to skirt the diplomats of NATO while making our way back across the downtown area en route to the Dali museum (which was not really worth the price of admission). 

Our next bit of history was about the Berlin wall itself.  After the war Berlin was divided into four sections – British, French, US and Soviet.  We developed our half and played by the rules while the Soviets decided to keep everything for itself.  When the built the wall in 1961, Kennedy was (according to the history over here) somewhat relieved that war was less likely with the divide up, and that the US had little choice but to accept the reality of the Iron Curtain having fallen over eastern Europe.  Facts of this are likely obvious to people who were adults when this was all going on, but I did not know that Berlin was entirely surrounded by Soviet controlled Germany, a tiny enclave of capitalism.  The East Germans supposedly did not see or think of this barrier as a wall – but as an anti-capitalism blockade, working to keep the evils of capitalism out.  Of course, the purpose was to stop the mass migration of people from the Soviet east to the west (who were leaving at a rate of several hundred thousand per year).  The wall divided the city in half, along roads, rivers, and even buildings.  There is upsetting footage of people running across barbed wire barriers (before the concrete wall), or jumping out of buildings that faced the west.  It was powerful and visually stunning to see the footage next to the wall itself – such a recent history buried beneath the surface of my reality.  It, along with a visit to a Stasi secret prison gave me a new appreciation for (though not changing my mind about) McCarthyism.  Here are some photos of the wall memorial: 

Comssioned art on the East wall - done 90 and 91

These images are mostly based on famous photos - (http://www.spiegel.de/international/germany/0,1518,615900,00.html ,  http://in-humanity.net/tag/east-german-soldier/ )

The following day C and I visited the secret prison of the Stasi (after the Soviets changed it from a soup kitchen into a secret prison – only the Soviets could use Communism to change a soup kitchen into a prison).  The tours (in Polish) were given by former inmates – our tour being in English was given by an historian.  The prison structure was simple enough – prison like, what was notable was the evolution of the function from torture to solitary confinement.  The Soviets initially used several forms of water torture (drips, a few inches of freezing water on the ground) sleep deprivation and packing people into tiny windowless basement rooms called U-Boats by the prisoners (who were exclusively political prisoners).  Later the prison used solitary confinement only to torture the inmates.  They went so far as to not allow prisoners to pass each other in the hallway.  It was a depressing, difficult tour.  C took a few photos inside of the submarine, though I do not have them with me.  I'm sure you can appreciate what it felt like to stand down there for even a minute - a cell with no moving air and twelve people.  Yikes.  

We were then on our way out of Germany and into Poland, where we have enjoyed the beautiful city of Krakow for the past few days.  Incidentally, due to a train station mishap, we are here for one more day – not the worst place to be around for a little more time.  Before we left we saw lots of Berlin, enjoyed several delightful meals (we looked often for German food but found mostly SE Asian fare – Thai, Korean, Tibetan, Vietnamese).  We a great brunch with Irina and Michael at a café they selected for us (whose name escapes me).  I took a photo of our food (along with a few of the city). 

Note the giant sculpture in the background

A beautiful rail bridge!

It was lovely weather, and a lovely city!

One final travel story on this entry – on our train from Berlin to Krakow, a fellow sitting in front of us managed to snooze his way out of Germany with a ticket meant to get him to Dresden in southern Germany.  The German ticket check had stamped his ticket without comment, but the Polish conductor was paying more attention and forced him off at the next station (in rural Poland).  He spoke Italian, and miraculously the woman across the aisle from him spoke Polish and Italian.  Corinne and I watched the exchange, the conductor telling him to get off, not swayed by the confusion with the first stamp or anything else the woman said to him.  As the Italian (maybe 19 years old) got off the train the woman who had advocated for him gave him a 50 euro note (almost 80$).  It was a powerful little episode about being cared for by strangers, and made me more resolved than ever to pick up fluency in another language (or two).  Thanks for reading!