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George’s Tulips are Yellow. Spring’s bloom is the beginning. Down the River I go. Hare Hare Hare-Song Om

May 11, 2012

This is going to be my last entry on a home console for the long whiles

Tomorrow which is later today, Friday, is my departure from Rossland Canada border crossing into Washington State

Scarcely soonafter, my communication will be via iPhone whereever whenever I find myself in a wireless port of the World Wide Web (McDonalds Starbucks) to update

Beginning routes are downstream the Columbia River to Portland.  Along the way are 2 Native Reservations where I intend to make many stops; the tribes are Colville and Spokane.  River’s Valley here I come. guide me. Salmon Spirits of the waterside.

It is an interest of Joy to watch the summer winds approach as the heat of day gravitates more opportunity outside.  The Sun the largest body of mass and matter in our system of the Solars rises east and sores as this little yellow dot over our heads falling closer westard. But then again the sun never moves it is our unchanging center. The Polarities tilted on an axis with respect to the moon; it is Us in planet Earth in rotation from A to B side 1 side 2.

This past week in preparation and training doing my routes around the lake making my rounds through town I am watching the community put their sun hats on and green thumbs into gear.  There is a garden to attend to.  You see. To me, that is knowledge. A garden, what is there to gain in the act of cultivating?  Weed out what is not planted, make space for those meant to prosper, roots decorate rocks summers require no socks. To Harvest. Have a sense in salad, almost everything can rest on a bed of leafy greens.

I am finally doing this ride. The aperceptive mass, my past experience is leading me to this.  Standing Meditation in all directions more that four.  In a waking state what do you find in your hands besides a toothbrush, spoon, and fork? A shovel a pitchfork a paintbrush perhaps? What do you do for yourself? In past-time overtime the time is now. There is no clocking in or out for me I will Imagine Now what I want to be and who I am.  Make it fit watch it grow. huMAN of art or of war? Masters of All Nature hurt no one.  In each patch of land is one’s own escape.  I am going out only to find out why I’ve dreamed of swmming, tractors, farms, Horses, the handicap, riding academies, kelp forests, SCUBA, camps, kids, counseling, Urchins Abalone, smoothies, and egg Mcmuffins.  All this has come to be true but there has to be more.  Maybe I should blame the countless spaghetti westerns I’d watch trailer living on site Camelot Stables. No internet phone or TV just books radio and records for a long period does the body good.  I have acquired a particular skill-set I have built up only to put to the test. I have my stringed instruments and a series of sound pipes on this trip. In light and love is a musical ride. Neil Young’s lyrics “From Hank to Hendrix” preetty much sums it up for me. Oh and Tom Robbin’s “Even Cowgirls get the Blues” hits the head with the hammer

My three wheels; bicycle and trailer is the extension of my skeleton.  My thighs are the drive train the thunder sounding, generating the petals that spin about.  My heart is the engine of it all. Water’s essence is cool so be the molecule 2 Hydrogensatoms to  1 Oxygen atom is the bond.  H2O is my gas and all I wish to burn if there is such a thing.

I am like a cup o coffee about this summer- half scared and half excited. Stir it up. It may be a lot to ask but Please have not One worry about me. This is purely my choice and something I am doing in the pursuit of health inner happiness at the grand seat of the North Americas.  Be stoked about it; light my fire.  If we love each other the thought of you will keep me warm at night and well rested for the day.  Time is irrelevant at this point. It is a matter of miles and hills, pace and grace. My hands are not leaving those bars I have control.

I bid you a dew Nighty Night. GoOod Morning. fare wells til next time

AnnO

 

 

 

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