Journeys 3.1

Almost sculptural, giant plastic shrouds enclose the power transmission towers across the river from where we live. Decades of rust are being blasted off, followed by fresh coats of paint. On the bottom left sits the inlet for the 1908 hydroelectric plant, still taking advantage of the natural drop of St. Anthony Falls.

Dwight was a little spooked this morning by a random clicking sound. It seemed to stop whenever he moved, leaving him with the distinct feeling that some hidden creature was watching him. AI revealed it was actually the “click of death” caused by a failing capacitor inside this formerly smart ceiling fan control. A replacement ordered online was delivered this evening, and I’ll swap it out in the morning.

Cycled a circular loop to Hopkins with a friend visiting from the UK, made possible by sections of the trail reopened after Green Line LRT construction. We stopped for lunch at Bryant Lake Bowl, a long-time Uptown fixture that’s part bowling alley, part theater, and part excellent restaurant. The bibimbap was superb comfort food, perfectly fitting a day that threatened rain but stayed dry for our bike ride.

Continued planning a possible multi-day hike across Greater Tokyo, a metropolis of 37 million. My route follows the Tamagawa Aqueduct, which dates back to 1654 in the feudal era. Spanning roughly 30 miles, I plan to start in the countryside at the Tama River. Though the city has been leveled by fire several times, including twice in the 20th century, I hope that by following the water, I’ll catch glimpses of the past that survived the flames.

Picked up a bunch of this locally grown asparagus at the farmers market this morning. The rhubarb looked good too, but my sister-in-law recently gave us a huge armful from her garden. We’re not too crazy about fiddleheads, though they did look decent. I didn’t see the fungus lurking in the corner: Google Lens is giving conflicting answers on it, so maybe it’s just as well.

Posted The Mystery of the Unexpected Train Station. In April 2026, while hiking the Rob Roy Way in Scotland, we unexpectedly came across a former train station. What was that all about?

Once in a blue moon, we feel a bit lazy and pick up a rotisserie chicken for dinner. Today was meant to be that day: I was busy volunteering, and Dwight spent much of his day horizontal, recovering from the same cold I’ve just managed to shake. ​Ultimately, it wasn’t meant to be. The rotisserie shelves were empty, and when I asked, there was none ready in the back. It was time for Plan B: cooking from scratch.