What is lost, what is gained

Garter snakes eat many garden pests, such as slugs!

Jumping off my recent post regarding the way life has changed since the ubiquity of the internet (thanks to smartphones and wifi), I found myself meditating the other day on what is gained versus lost with all sorts of technologies. The one close at hand is the lawn mower.

Mowing the lawn always seemed a rather thankless task growing up, and in my adult life too. Run a machine to manicure your perfect yard and cough for an hour afterwards thanks to the exhaust fumes and hayfever. And to what end? Just to have a short, even lawn. Perhaps someone who knows more about the specifics of grass growing (or who cares more about it) could explain to me that this is actually important for anything beyond vanity. But it seems a bit vain to me.

In our current (temporary) home we've made a decision. Not because of my dislike of lawn mowing, but more due to spatial constraints and the fact that we don't want to purchase a machine that could be different from what we'd need in our future home. The lawn here is relatively small, so we bought a hand tool known as a "weed whip". Not to be confused with the weed whacker, the weed whip consists of a medium-length wooden handle with a serrated, two-edged blade at the bottom. It's a tool that Jack uses at work sometimes for brushing the trail corridor. It's remarkably effective at cutting things down to size. It just requires a bit more manual labor.

So as you can imagine, our yard looks a lot scruffier than those of our neighbors. And frankly, we like it that way. A scruffy lawn seems more inviting, more lush and semi-wild. More like a meadow. As P. Allen Smith said one time (I think it was him?) "Children love meadows." And I am a child at heart.

For a motorized walking or riding lawn mower, what is lost is the direct connection to the land, the manual labor (though some walk-behinds do require a bit more effort, but it's often more of just a leg workout, which is just like any other workout I tend to do), and the peace and quiet (and clean air, if it's a gas mower) for yourself and those around you. What is gained is time, especially if the lawn is large.

Time is what is lost with a weed whip. Although I have gotten good enough to get through the front lawn in 30 minutes now (I did it on my lunch break yesterday), that's compared to the 47+/- minutes it took me to do about 5x (or more?) that space with a walking mower at our Crescent City house. (I used to listen to the entirety of Pearl Jam's "Lightning Bolt" album while I mowed.) What's gained is pretty significant, though: peace and quiet for yourself and your neighbors (just a gentle swish-swish-thwack-thwack sound), cleaner air, a solid upper body workout, and a greater connection to the land that you're working. What do I mean by that last part? I mean that I know exactly what plants are growing and where in my little lawn because I recognize and trim them with my "eye on the ball" and so much more focus on the plants themselves than when I run a mower over them. Also, since I tend to strike higher than a mower and with less frequency/speed, I'm less likely to injure wildlife going about its business in our lawn. Wildlife like the beautiful garter snake in the photograph above. I've seen that beauty while "whacking" (as I like to call it, because "whipping" sounds weird) the lawn twice now!

For anyone who's wondering: what about a non-motorized, old-fashioned, walk-behind mower? The modern ones are full of plastic parts and we had one in Crescent City - it ceased to function effectively within a year. If I found a proper vintage one for a good price, I'd buy it and try it again, but I'm not impressed with the ones on the modern market. Not for these thick, lush, PNW lawns, anyway. On that same note, I'm certainly not opposed to the non-gas motorized options that are out there as well, and I may well look into them before the summer is over, perhaps an electric weedwhacker as a nice midway option.

If it's not obvious, I hope you recognize that I view this as a "right tool for the job" situation. And it's more along the lines of consciously deciding what technology we utilize in our lives and accepting the gains and losses that the type of technology we use affords. For this house at this time, something small with more of an upper body workout works well for me. This is akin to that question I've been trying to ask myself more lately: is this trip better suited to walking, cycling, or driving?

Until next time!

Shifting Gears

 For the last two months I have been training for a metric century ride as part of the Columbia Century Challenge, a supported bike tour on the other side of the Columbia River from where we live. The price was right, the photos were lovely, the course was challenging but not crazy, and I was hoping to be able to have a lovely day in communion with my fellow cyclists. But when I signed up, I agreed to a clause that said I would not participate in the ride if I exhibited symptoms of a cough, sore throat, etc, on the day of the ride. Today is the day of the ride, and I have a baritone chest cough and a recovering sore throat.

I'll be honest, I cried last night when I made the decision to request that my registration be rolled over to next year (something that they are very kind to offer for folks who can't make it). It's hard to shift gears sometimes, to let go of things that we had planned and poured ourselves into before they come to fruition. But letting go can also be a huge relief. I slept in this morning and felt good about my decision last night when I woke up to a heavy cough and runny nose that would have sucked even more while riding than they do in my comfy bed. No more stress of making a ride when my body is out of it, now I can focus on healing this weekend so that I can put this spring cold behind me before my mother-in-law comes up for the weekend in 6 days.

And already, my mind is going on to the next thing. Training for the ride was only a preamble to training for the backpacking trips I'll be doing this year - two trips to hike the 24 miles +/- to Jack's backcountry camp, and back! It will be the most I've done in less than 48 hours since 2014 when I was working at Sequoia and hiking mad miles every day. Back then, it was normal amongst my peers to get off work and hike 6 miles round-trip to visit a waterfall, and then to still do all your fun evening hangout activities. I hope in the coming weeks to capture some of that spirit. I will be able to slide cycling to the role of cross-training, alongside using the new roller skates that I recently acquired, and workouts at the calisthenics stations in the park. I intend to make a habit of walking down to the post office of an evening to mail a postcard or letter, perhaps wandering up and down the hillier parts of town, perhaps carrying a backpack with evermore weight inside to build up my load-bearing muscles once again. On particularly nice days, while the sun is up so late, I hope to drive to places with proper hiking trails at least once a week to put in some good miles. I intend to start wearing my hiking boots more often than my sneakers so that I can get used to them again, their weight, their stiffness, their strike.

Given the high gas prices, this next stage of my summer training will require more planning to make sure I'm not driving too much unnecessarily. Acquainting myself with the local bus may finally be in order. Planning days where I put in two training activities so that I can make the most of the drive - perhaps doing the SUP fitness class on Wednesday night and then riding my bike around the flats of Woodland dike afterwards. Perhaps pedaling to Longview and then walking around Lake Sacajawea before pedaling back home. At work they've restricted our use of "wellness hours" (3 hours each week that we can use to exercise) until the end of the month, so that will cut into my options a bit as well. But when the sun doesn't go down until 9 o'clock, the only thing standing in my way, truly, is myself.

So while I sit here, sick in bed, I am going to put myself to work, planning my outings and trainings for the next couple weeks so that the decision and guesswork is taken out of the equation. Because the best way to talk yourself out of a workout is to give yourself an option to do nothing. And if I can have a bunch of options pre-established that I just pick one from each day, that will go a long way to keep me on the right track for an enjoyable backpacking trip in July.

That's all for today, not a particularly beautiful piece of writing, but more just a check-in on where I am and what my goals are for the coming summer. Solstice is coming up, and I scored an invite to "Summer Rollstice" - a group outdoor roller skate event along the Columbia River in Portland - but I was also contemplating doing a big hike that afternoon. Perhaps something else will come up - or perhaps I'll do both activities! I'm looking forward to this, one of my favorite holidays, as an opportunity to check in and orient myself going into summer. To shift gears from the spring, where I've been getting started and dabbling in lots of different things and familiarizing myself with the flow of this new home, to a summer where I lock into more of a focus and fill my after-work hours with time outdoors and spending time with new friends and at new favorite places.

Until next time!