Vive memor quam sis aevi brevis.

Wednesday, 8 February 2017

Deer Grove

             Yesterday the weather was pretty reasonable for a day in February, so i loaded up Tarkus,

(Um, no, not that Tarkus...)


(This Tarkus.)

                                                 and rolled out to the nearby forest preserve...

There's a pretty good trail system for riding.

        It had rained pretty steadily the night before, and it was a beautifully foggy, windless morning.



The trails were too muddy for my smooth road tyres, so i cruised the roadways and paved paths that cross the preserve. There is a mile or so of disused closed roads back in the oak woods...

A forgotten picnic bench...









and a hidden pump.



                                            A bit later, i passed some silent local inhabitants...

How many?
Wait, there's another... (i counted 4)
Deer Grove is one of the Cook County Forest Preserves. It is located just inside the north county line and is bisected by Quentin Road:

(Note the typical quality of Illinois roads)

                                              It's a busy two lane blacktop along this stretch:

45mph (actually, that's an Illinois 45, that means usually 55+)

There is a crossing sign, that almost every driver ignores:

State law says stop for people in a crosswalk. 



                                                            Yeah, good luck with that!

After making the Quentin Crossing a second time, i returned from whence i came, passing more local fauna:

(This bunch was slightly less wary that those in the west section...)
Sometimes there's quite a dramatic browse line in these woods.
So, as the wind picked up and the temperature dropped, i turned for home, passing the local high school
where it seems everybody drives:
No, they're not all teachers' cars...
(There's even an overflow lot.)
 And there you go.
(With apologies to NYC Bikesnob.)

With its fairly extensive and not over-technical trails, the preserve is an almost perfect place for me- never a strong off-road rider- to just ride and goof off for awhile. Best time to ride is an early morning weekday, when there aren't too many riders and dog walkers out there.

Maybe one day i'll actually fit knobbies on the ol' Tarkus again... maybe.







Tuesday, 7 February 2017

Theodore Roosevelt

The President is merely the most important among a large number of public servants. He should be supported or opposed exactly to the degree which is warranted by his good conduct or bad conduct, his efficiency or inefficiency in rendering loyal, able, and disinterested service to the Nation as a whole. Therefore it is absolutely necessary that there should be full liberty to tell the truth about his acts, and this means that it is exactly necessary to blame him when he does wrong as to praise him when he does right. Any other attitude in an American citizen is both base and servile. To announce that there must be no criticism of the President, or that we are to stand by the President, right or wrong, is not only unpatriotic and servile, but is morally treasonable to the American public. Nothing but the truth should be spoken about him or any one else. But it is even more important to tell the truth, pleasant or unpleasant, about him than about any one else.

 -Theodore Roosevelt, 26th US President (1858-1919)







Monday, 6 February 2017

God Save the Queen!

(Plate commemorating the Coronation of Elizabeth II on 2 June, 1953.)


                                    Sixty five years on the throne. Congratulations, Your Majesty.



Friday, 20 January 2017

H.L.Mencken

When the field is nationwide, and the fight must be waged chiefly at second and third hand, and the force of personality cannot so readily make itself felt, then all the odds are on the man who is, intrinsically, the most devious and mediocre -- the man who can most easily adeptly disperse the notion that his mind is a virtual vacuum. The Presidency tends, year by year, to go to such men. As democracy is perfected, the office represents, more and more closely, the inner soul of the people. We move toward a lofty ideal. On some great and glorious day the plain folks of the land will reach their heart's desire at last, and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron. -H.L. Mencken, writer, editor, and critic (1880-1956)
 (italics mine.)

                                                         ***********************