"We all have a vacuum cleaner, we've all learned how to use it and we all use it. But we don't go around thinking about our vaccum in the course of a day. Only when the bag is full do we roll our eyes and sigh. Kind of like when our tire is flat/chain is loose and we chuck our bike into the bike shop.
We don't have a 'stable' of vacuum cleaners. We don't ...wave at other 'avid' vacuum cleaning 'enthusiasts' whilst we clean. The relationship to our bicycles is the same as to our vacuum cleaners. They're both merely incredibly effective and useful tools for making our daily lives easier."
While I respect Mr. Colville-Andersen's work and agree with him on many issues, this insistence on stripping the bicycle of emotional and personal value is misguided and philosophically flawed.
Though on some level, both the bicycle and the vacuum cleaner are utilitarian objects, the type of experiences they represent could not be more different. A vacuum cleaner evokes associations with: order, work, domesticity, obligation, enclosed spaces, headache-inducing noise, and boredom. A bicycle evokes associations with: movement, freedom, independence, wind in your hair, the outdoors, and joy. It is only natural the the latter invites emotional connectedness and the former does not. An object is never just an object.
The fact that the bicycle performs the very practical function of transporting us from one place to another need not compete with the fact that it inspires romanticisation; the two things are not at odds. On the contrary: It seems to me that the very reason the bicycle is so appealing, is its potential to transform ordinary acts of everyday travel into magical experiences of beauty, fantasy, joy and freedom. My bike is not a vacuum cleaner, and I do not feel silly for loving it.
From the state park website: Watkins Glen State Park is the most famous of the Finger Lakes State Parks, with a reputation for leaving visitors spellbound.
Within two miles, the glen's stream descends 400 feet past 200-foot cliffs, generating 19 waterfalls along its course.
The gorge path winds over and under waterfalls and through the spray of Cavern Cascade. Rim trails overlook the gorge.
This place was so awe inspiring. I'm so glad we were able to see it. It is days like this that I am so incredibly grateful for this life we are living right now and the chance to take in our country's beauty in new ways. It keeps me grounded in all of the reasons that we do this, even when some parts can feel difficult. It's more than worth it.
The probable household of Jonas Joslin:
Sue, Fred and I are sharing a campsite on the Homer Spit, which extends 4.5 miles out into Kachemak Bay. When we arrived in early afternoon (August 12th) the campground was nearly empty. By evening it wasn't completely full but it was highly occupied. Huge RVs pulled in all around us!
A few hundred feet away from the campground is the Seafarer's Memorial, of which this is a part. The inscription reads “This Bell Tolls for all the Souls Set Free Upon the Sea.”
The Harbor at Homer Spit. Even on a gloomy day, it is beautiful.
The tides of Kachemak Bay are the second largest in the world. The average vertical difference between high and low waters is 15 feet, with an extreme of 28 feet. During low tide the angle of the portion of the pier sloping down to the boats can be as much as 45 degrees! The piers and boats moored in the bay all rise and fall with the tides. A short but fascinating movie shown at the Alaska Islands & Ocean Visitor Center in Homer revealed the dramatic differences between high and low tide. It was amazing. These pictures of the marina area were taken when the tide was higher (though I don't know whether it was at high tide or not).

All kinds of rules and regulations must be strictly followed!
The little shop along the waterfront for the “Time Bandit” which is one of the boats (they hunt for Alaskan King Crab) that has become famous (or infamous, depending upon your point of view) locally due to the series “Deadliest Catch” on the Discovery Channel.