Meán Gheimhridh

This time of the year has been celebrated worldwide for thousands of years, so I know that it’s not just me.

The Celts recognized it as Meán Geimhridh, the Scots called it Hogmanay, a festival that was “imported” by the raiding and occupying Norse and embraced by the Scots, a variation of this festival is still referred to as “the Yules” on the Scottish Shetland Islands; 7th century Japan recognized it as Amaterasu, in Peru, Inti Raymi.

Whatever the culture and however it has been known, it has been recognized all around the world throughout the centuries. Most English speaking cultures recognize it currently by the Latin form of the words Sol- meaning “the sun” and Sistere- “to stand still”. The Solstice, which, in the winter represents the ebbing of the Suns lowest point on the horizon and marks the beginning of its ascent back into the sky and to longer and warmer days!

Noonday solstice sun on the Palouse

For those of us up here in the more northern parts of the world, the suns low position and shorter days are rather apparent, and every year that I grow older, seems to affect my mood a little more.

As of now, I can watch the weather forecast on the evening news every night with a little more enthusiasm and observe the daylight hours grow longer minute by minute and day by day, all the while, restlessly squirming in my lazy boy like a little kid in the pews during Sunday service making revving noises under my breath, shifting gears as I steal away down a quiet country road, warm wind on my neck and the scent of forest pine in my helmet.

Palouse sunset during the Winter Solstice

Every culture has a different name, and a different celebration for this specific time of the year. I don’t know what the motorcycle culture would call this time of the year but I do know how we’ll celebrate once the snow melts off of the roads.

Ride Well (At least in spirit)

E.T.

A small change

With the skies around here changing from countless days of sunshine all summer long, to the grey looming ceiling that is now present and probably won't disappear in it's entirety for the next few months, I needed something to remind me of what will be coming back. That is, warm and gentle summer evenings, therefore, I thought that I would change my blog title photo to remind me that those days will return.

The day that I took this photo, the weather was more than just a little warm, the temperatures were up in 100's. I took a ride during the evening when the temperature was starting to cool off a little and stopped here at the top of a small butte out in the Palouse.

Even though the daytime heat was stifling, the ride that I took that evening and on into the night was a memorable one. With the shorter cloud covered days dominating the weather here now, I just needed something to remind me that those warm summer evenings will return.

Ride well

E.T.

Journal entry Sep 8th, 2008

Here's one for you that I'd thought I'd share.

I was cleaning out my saddle bags this evening and found this entry in my journal from a ride that I took back in September, far to the eastern edge of the Idaho border. This is very thick forest, very thick! Many times while riding the trails, I couldn't see much of anything, occasionally the forest would open up for a moment and reveal to me what I was riding through. I will return, I promise.

Journal entry

Sep. 8th, 2008 Eastern Idaho

Traveling east, every passing mile takes me farther; farther away from the complexities of the city, the din of traffic and bellicose drivers.
With every rotation of the wheels, the cars traveling in the opposite direction seem to grow a little older, the houses a little more simple; materialism begins to wane.
The highway narrows down to a two lane country road and then becomes a forest service road, and then a nameless trail.

We find our way to where we are now, deep in the forest, resting by the trail, enjoying a light lunch.
The forest doesn’t make a sound, not a whisper.
The sun is high in the sky but any direct light fails to reach through the canopy of trees.

Lying here on the forest floor, my jacket propped beneath my head, eyelids closed, wide awake, I listen.
I listen for anything and there is nothing.
Tomorrow when I am at work, back in the endless rush of the city, I will think of this moment here with my bike in the half-light of the forest....................and miss this.

Ride Well

E.T.