Take a Hike

On Wednesday of this week, I filled my gas tank. That may not sound like a big deal to you, but I last put gas in my car in November, over four months ago. That was good gas, though. It must have been, because it was that high-priced, $2.54 a gallon stuff. This time, I filled up with that cheap, $1.79 gas, so I’m sure it won’t last as long. This morning I read that gas is under a dollar a gallon in some places in Minnesota. I don’t want any part of that crappy petroleum, though. It might ruin my car. While I was at the gas station, I took my car through the car wash. When you are as proud of your vehicle as I am of my 15-year-old Ford Focus, you try to keep it looking good. So I wash it every other year, whether it needs it or not.

Like many other people, I have been trying to find ways to stay busy during this period of enforced captivity. More than anything else, I have used the time to write every day. My friend Bruce recently read a draft of my first novel, Forest Primeval, and made some excellent suggestions. So I have been working on incorporating those ideas. (I think this is about the 14^th or 15^th draft.)

I’ve also been working on another novel, tentatively called A Million to One, that centers around golf. One sporting event that we watch religiously each year is the Masters, which usually takes place in mid-April. Kathleen and I often put down a small bet on a golfer with relatively long odds. It gives us someone to cheer for, and, with a little luck, we could win four or five hundred dollars for our $20 bet. We have never actually won these bets, mind you, but it gave me the premise for this new book. In this story, a guy bets on a journeyman golfer to win all four major tournaments in the same year. As the golfer catches fire and wins the first few majors, the man with the bet stands to win an enormous amount of money and becomes a national celebrity. The title indicates the odds he received in Vegas for his $100 bet.

As the weather has warmed up, I have also enjoyed going out for a 4-6-mile run or walk each day. The need to go outside is especially powerful up here, where people have been cooped up all winter due to the cold temperatures. When it finally warmed up, the stay-at-home orders kicked in. Because of that, I thought that the Kinnickinnic State Park would be crowded with hikers when I went there earlier this week.

The park is less than 10 miles from my home, and it covers the last mile of the Kinnickinnic River before it empties into the St. Croix River. This was my first trip to the park, and I thoroughly enjoyed it on a warm and sunny day. To my surprise, I did not encounter anyone else, except for a group of the fattest wild turkeys I’ve ever seen. I politely gave them the right-of-way. The trails are mostly grass covered, although some them still had sections of ice or snow or were muddy from the recent melt-off. I covered six miles on meandering trails, and it was a great opportunity to allow my mind to wander and ponder the possibilities presented by the little river that runs through River Falls. If I were so inclined, I could build a crude raft, Huck Finn style. I could put it in the water of the Kinnickinnic downtown, just past the dam and falls that give the town its name. Then I could let the current carry me, theoretically at least, down to the St. Croix, which feeds into the Mississippi a short distance from here. From that confluence, I could float past St. Louis, Memphis, and New Orleans, into the Gulf of Mexico. At that point, a person would become part of the great waters that make up the oceans and seas of the world. You could sail to Japan, Africa, Europe, or India. The very thought makes the imagination soar.

With no actual Masters tournament to watch this year, I have found it to be somewhat cathartic—and a whole lot of fun—to at least be able to write about a fictional golfer. Similarly, while being locked up at home most of the day, my mind is kept alive by thoughts of travelling to distant parts of the world where I have never been. An American cyclist named Jamie Paolinetti once said that “Limitations live only in our minds. But if we use our imaginations, our possibilities become limitless.”

We may all have to remember that over the next few months.