It wasn’t exactly a mountain, so the standard Rule 54 admonition didn’t technically apply, but the route of the Hill People following the Angry Hippy up the south side of Queen Anne was way steeper (and incrementally slower) than the one taken by cooler heads, but it wasn’t, as Stephen pointed out, more scenic which begets (but doesn’t “beg,” my friends) the question, “What is scenic?”
Surely, the view was more expansive, especially on that bluff overlooking Elliot Bay and Magnolia but it’s hard, I think, to fully establish the claim that one view has more scenery in it than another. (Unless, of course, you experience it, which frankly, we all did before the evening was through, most clearly in the park by the fire, but come to think of it, all the way from start to finish, notably through the woods, both directions, switchbacks up and down.)
It was heartwarming to reunite in Ballard on the way, the Up-Group and the Down-Group reconnecting like the Ida and Pingala channels of the breath to reveal the Sushuma nadi; if that don’t activate the Kundalini serpent power, I don’t know what does. Suffice it to say the whole is greater than the sum of its parts which, while mathematically impossible, happens with great regularity on Thursday nights in these parts.
I finally got a good explanation of why it might be worse to burn the plastic covering store-bought firewood than it is to liberally douse the conflagration in bottle after bottle of Boy Scout water, but honestly, I’m not sure it’s necessary all the time to be as fully responsible as one can be.
For well over a decade, I’ve believed that getting to your destination via bicycle earns you a little leeway in the environmental responsibility department and, although I realize, of course, how self-serving that judgment is, I maintain that it’s reasonable.
As long as you treat the planet no worse than your liver; you're good.
Surely, the view was more expansive, especially on that bluff overlooking Elliot Bay and Magnolia but it’s hard, I think, to fully establish the claim that one view has more scenery in it than another. (Unless, of course, you experience it, which frankly, we all did before the evening was through, most clearly in the park by the fire, but come to think of it, all the way from start to finish, notably through the woods, both directions, switchbacks up and down.)
It was heartwarming to reunite in Ballard on the way, the Up-Group and the Down-Group reconnecting like the Ida and Pingala channels of the breath to reveal the Sushuma nadi; if that don’t activate the Kundalini serpent power, I don’t know what does. Suffice it to say the whole is greater than the sum of its parts which, while mathematically impossible, happens with great regularity on Thursday nights in these parts.
I finally got a good explanation of why it might be worse to burn the plastic covering store-bought firewood than it is to liberally douse the conflagration in bottle after bottle of Boy Scout water, but honestly, I’m not sure it’s necessary all the time to be as fully responsible as one can be.
For well over a decade, I’ve believed that getting to your destination via bicycle earns you a little leeway in the environmental responsibility department and, although I realize, of course, how self-serving that judgment is, I maintain that it’s reasonable.
As long as you treat the planet no worse than your liver; you're good.
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