Thirteen Tortuous Miles

Ferociously fearsome and bone chillingly cold wind, mostly on the nose, while circling clockwise on my regular rural route. Occasionally, pedaling hard in low gear, I found myself going backward (or so it seemed). About halfway home it became clear that a mistake had been made. But…

Persistent perseverance seemed better than turning tail, and so, as a result, at the end of an hour, the bike and I closed the loop—and none too soon, in fact, since we pulled into the garage just as the first fat, frigid drops came splattering sideways.

A Fine Little Flood

Moisture is good, especially if it makes it into the Great Lakes. Also good for the Mississippi, which pretty near ran dry last fall.

Speaking of the Mississippi, I am currently reading Percival Everett’s new novel JAMES, which is a retelling of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn from Jim’s perspective. What a great read, what great fun. At my current point in the book we are dealing with the Duke of Bilgewater, and the “Dough Fan,” heir to the French throne.