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.