For some people, the morning commute includes a drum of coffee, talk radio, and a seat belt.
Winter in Minnesota is considered purgatory by most scholars. Six (plus) months of penance per year seems about right for the sins of the other seasons. Nat spends the Winter punishing himself on his stationary bicycle – hour after hour in his damp, cold cellar (I just threw those adjectives in – I’m sure his Edina basement is neither damp nor cold) pedaling his little heart out. Before Summer, he must spin the wheel of the stationary bicycle a lot. 5,000 miles – to be exact. I did some complicated geographical calculations and figured out that if Nat pedaled in the real world, he could get to Argentina.
An architect can only design so much before he/she says to him/her self, “You know what? I’d like to ride a bicycle up and down mountains.” Right? Anyway, here’s Nat taking us on one of his little trips. His little trips DOWN A MOUNTAIN. Good Lord, I feel sick just watching it.
The Nature Valley Grand Prix festivities were in full-swing this weekend in Stillwater, MN. Stillwater is home to that lovably loathsome, Chilkoot Hill. The hill, too steep for Winter travel, is celebrated/dreaded annually by a pack of bicyclists. A pack of bicyclist that maybe weren’t loved enough as children. The racers climb the hill over and over again, lactic acid filling their bulging muscles and tears stinging their eyes. Is this a race or some sort of art-piece on the absurdity of man? I don’t know.
Yes. It’s very important that your architect be a Beast. He/she must be able to concentrate all of his/her power into a physical activity. Like what? Ballroom dancing or bicycling. Here’s Nat after his “hour of power”:
Some people (Nat Shea) continue to bike through the Winter. I’d like to splurge for one of those remote car starters. Some people (Nat Shea) think it’s fun to race down the street like some sort of stampeding animal. I’d rather jostle my way to the Target check-out counter.