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13 augustus 2006
Bike Trip in Big Sky Country
YPSIDIXIT and the AF biked through Depot Town shortly after 8 a.m. today, and biked back through around 4 p.m. In between were immense blue skies, tall green corn, a quiet rural cemetery, and the small sound of whirring bike-chain among singing orioles and rustling leaves, on a long, empty summer road.
Taking Packard to Platt, we headed south. Platt is dicey biking. There's little shoulder, and people drive fast. Y. had made sure her tuned-up bike was conspicuous with a big flag and a red blinkie. We paused for water near the old psych hospital. It is rubble. Gone. A large pile of chunks. An immense fence surrounds the site, warding off chunk-swipers. It was only last fall when I and a faithful friend visited this storied ruin. It is now gone, one more building vivid in memory only.
At Stoney Creek Road, we took a break in the York Baptist church parking lot, where a fleet of enormous vehicles raised interesting questions about Christian stewardship. We drank more water and rested a bit, then struck out on bike-friendly Stoney Creek Road.
Stoney Creek leads to Mooreville, a vanished community founded only three years after Ypsi. Its sole remnant is a large wooden church whose clean, firm lines speak of the rectitude of the minds that built it. Decrepit, it resembles a ship sailing staunchly to its eventual ruin. We examined its privy, which juts out over the lip of a creek, and nearby beehouses.
Just south of Mooreville is where Dennison Road begins. This is the best part of the journey. The sky opens up and becomes an immense blue bowl. One becomes aware of a 360-degree horizon, uncluttered by buildings and shops and cars and houses. Corn rustles and its orderly rows stretching away draw the eye into the distance and with it one's soul, which becomes larger, or, more precisely, less confined on Dennison Road. Chicory and Queen Anne's Lace mingle their blue and white along the roadway. I let some bop against my arm in passing, intent on extracting every iota of sensual pleasure from the glory. Y. felt supremely alive, aware of the warm wind on her skin, the soft hiss of the tires on the road, the skittering song of the orioles swooping past.
At the cemetery, we chose a spot in back and picnicked on peanut butter and honey sandwiches, hard-boiled eggs, radishes, oranges, trail mix, cheese slices, and water. Y. had brought the AF's opium, the inevitable package of gummi bears. While eating, we pointed out the juniper trees that had clearly grown from tiny shrubs planted at headstones, their pruners long dead. I also saw a lilac tree that a long-ago relative had brought as a shrub in a pot and planted in a small shovel-dug hole as a memorium. As one by one the number of people who remembered that long-dead relative grew smaller, the lilac, as if in compensation, grew bigger.
The trip back was tinged with a tiny regret that the day could not be eternal. Just biking in the warm August sun, seeing the AF shakily reflected in my mirror, letting the colors of the flowers gloriously illuminate the back wall of my retina and soul like sunlight through a stained glass window throwing a pattern of divine color and beauty on a plain floor.
We decided to stop at the Burger King at Michigan Ave. and Platt for a bathroom break and warily entered this world of plastic, not our natural habitat. Y. has not set foot in a fast food restaurant in years. Y. ordered a chocolate milkshake and the AF a Coke slushie, and we received a vanilla shake and a cherry slushie. Humbly and without complaint, we accepted what had been chosen for us, and giggled at the table.
The methodical AF soon determined that the best method of consuming his beverage was by raising and lowering the straw within the red slushie mixture and slurping through a straw slightly compressed by teeth, He informed Y. of this finding. He asked, "Y'know those spoon-straws they used to make? With a small ovoid spoon on the end? They were frustrating, like chopsticks, but in a different way." The AF expounded on this theme, analyzing the production methods required to make such an artifact and cataloguing the places in which one could find it. Y. listened with amusement disguised as interest and fetched a new straw. Neatly using the scissorlets on her Swiss Army knife, she ingeniously crafted this item for the AF, who tested it and pronounced it just as lousy as the real thing. He then attached two additional straws to the spoon-straw, creating what he called an antenna and Y. called a scepter. Y. noted to herself that a spoon-straw can be a Rorschach test and pondered the significance of the different labels. We surveyed the mess of cups, lids, straw-wrappers, crumpled napkins, straws, pools of liquid, and sticky hands and faces generated by two drinks and pronounced the beverage-stop a success.
We headed home.
Earlier, Y. had quietly studied the AF's profile in the cemetery during the picnic, noting the rows of graves stretching out behind him. Y. reflected that a mere handful of days separated her and the AF from the graves nearby. Y. thus felt humbled and grateful to share this fleeting day of beauty.
After the picnic, she and the AF quietly examined a passing jet's vapor trail. The jet was moving directly away from the sun, which weirdly cast the jet's shadow ahead of it, aligned perfectly with the vapor trail, as if drawing a faint line where the jet would fly to next. Y. reflected that she too has a shadow-trail in front of her, a faint guide through the cluttered, disorienting din of everyday life, a trail created by the light and warmth of affection.
Posted by ypsidixit at 13 augustus 2006 17:13
Comments
One really nice description of grace:
"Humbly and without complaint, we accepted what had been chosen for us, and giggled at the table."
Posted by: Elizabeth at 13 augustus 2006 22:16
(taken aback) why, what a kind comment. Thank you, Elizabeth.
We did make snide jokes, at the table, about how the order was so complex, it should be noted. :)
Posted by: Laura at 13 augustus 2006 22:27
Y. has explored local cemeteries with one friend who viewed it as anathema to picnic in a cemetery.
I think it's all in the attitude. We examined the graves before lunch and puzzled out several cryptic situations posed by the dates and names. We weren't just squatting to eat. We were respectful of the site.
We weren't there to whoop it up among graves. We were fully cognizant of the solemnity of the site. And even cognizant of the fact that we'd be here ere long. "Might as well get used to it."
Posted by: Laura at 13 augustus 2006 23:18
Cemeteries are indeed, one of the best places for soul searching and reflection. Y's descriptive essays are worthy of book print. "Touring Michigans Final Resting Places by Bicycle" with illustraitions and prose. A great read for the adventurous and the humble. Thanks for the wonderful report. -Og
Posted by: Old Goat at 13 augustus 2006 23:41
(taken aback again) that is a kind and humbling comment, OG. Thank you.
There's much to see and comment on regarding local cemeteries. In fact we stopped at another one, off Judd Road, and noted many interesting and unusual examples of grave iconography. I photographed one highly unusual example of the "downward-pointing finger," which I've seen in only a couple of cemeteries, of the dozens I've explored around the county.
It does make one aware of one's own short sheaf of years and begs the question, "so how you gonna spend today? tomorrow? the next day? Is that really worth it? What is it that truly matters?"
Posted by: Laura at 14 augustus 2006 00:03
The sensual Taurus moon is a fan of all things luscious, delicious, vivacious and melodious. These things don't have to cost money -- and often they're free -- but under the Taurus moon, we somehow would rather spend money on them, anyway. Maybe the thinking is that people tend to appreciate what they've paid for over what's given to them.
ARIES (March 21-April 19). The stars suggest you'll be tipped today, even if you're not the kind of professional whose pay normally includes a gratuity. You'll receive little gestures, extras, pointers and, best of all, tangible shows of appreciation.
TAURUS (April 20-May 20). Can you hold two opposing ideas in your mind at the same time and still more or less function? If so, you'll have no problem with what the planets have in store for you today.
GEMINI (May 21-June 21). Certain people have such an inspiring affect on you that after you've connected with them, it's almost impossible to get to sleep at night. Enjoy this vivid feeling, as it's quite out of the ordinary.
CANCER (June 22-July 22). A degree of fame is in the stars for you over the next three days. You might get your name in the company newsletter, the local paper or be talked about in the most interesting circles.
LEO (July 23-Aug. 22). Do what you must to raise your visibility. When you broadcast your talents, you make it easier for opportunities to find you. Tonight brings the chance to take your leisure-time hobbies seriously.
VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). Actually, you don't need dedication or tenacity or discipline in order to achieve your goal. What you need is passion. If the prospect of having the result you desire doesn't light your heart on fire, it's time to take it off the list.
LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 23). You're versed in how your services can help others. If you can deliver this message to five people today (with your usual charm, of course) you open new avenues for money to flow to you.
SCORPIO (Oct. 24-Nov. 21). Your expectations of those close to you are on the rise today. Is it so unreasonable to want a love who can bring home the bacon and fry it in a pan? The stars urge you to request such things -- a little louder, please!
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22-Dec. 21). It's the perfect time to reconsider the thing you once thought was so funny. Your signmate Winston Churchill said, "If all the requisites are joined, from whence a perfect joke must spring, a joke's a very serious thing."
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19). You're attractive to many, but be careful with whom you get involved. The wrong influence makes you act very unlike yourself. Romance runs hot and cold. Soon, you'll have to call it what it is -- an infatuation.
AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 18). Sticking to the plan might be just plain stupid. Instead, you're flexible, checking to make sure it's working along the way. Gemini and Cancer people are instrumental in your success.
PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20). The important things get done when you involve at least one other person. Give in to an overwhelming urge to team up. You're likely to experience a power greater than the sum of its parts.
Posted by: Mission Impossible at 14 augustus 2006 09:30
Thank you, kindest Oracle. I will do what you must to raise my visibility.
Posted by: Laura at 14 augustus 2006 09:36
I also like Scorpio for today:
"Is it so unreasonable to want a love who can bring home the bacon and fry it in a pan?"
Posted by: Laura at 14 augustus 2006 09:37
Just don't expect them to clean the grease
Posted by: oink at 14 augustus 2006 09:45
Clover will be glad to do that.
Posted by: Laura at 14 augustus 2006 09:50
A lovely piece, Laura.
Posted by: addiann at 14 augustus 2006 12:56
Addiann: Thank you for such a nice comment.
Posted by: Laura at 14 augustus 2006 13:03