Hazy Commute

Another nice ride in. For some inexplicable reason, I chose to ride up the hill in Highland Park and take Montréal to Shepard Road. I swear it shaves off five to ten minutes. Near 35E, I was greeted by the usual group of gold finches that appear to summer there. There must be some unique plant that they like. It is seriously a gold finch ghetto along the chain-link fence.

As I rode on, I realized that I had watered the cats, but didn't refill my bottle. I stopped at a drinking fountain and noticed a presumably homeless person of indeterminate gender stirring in a sleeping bag along the fence. I am always intrigued by what sort of life circumstances lead up to this lifestyle. I felt oddly and inappropriately voyeuristic at this point, so I quickly resumed my commute.

Downtown Saint Paul looked like a vision from a Dickens novel in the morning haze. I contemplated grabbing my camera, but it was buried in my bag strapped to the rack. I really need to get some proper panniers. If I buy a set, Lise and I could each use one. I doubt I need both. As I continued east of downtown, I had usual flashback to Norway. There is something about the aroma of diesel exhaust from the barges that always reminds of taking the ferry from Stavanger to Kvitsøy. To my immediate left I encountered the diesel exhaust of the trucks and the freight trains heading to the switch yard. For some reason, it smells different over water- even over the Mississippi. It also occurred to me that it has been just over a year since I've been in Norway. That will soon change- we finalized our reservations last night. All we need to do now is sell our cars... and find jobs!


Kvitsøy- where we usually stay in Norway. We are moving to Stavanger, a nearby city.