The Darrow Road To The Hilly South

I was in college when I first read the works of Matsuo Basho in translation. Basho was a 17th century haiku poet who basically spent the last years of his life wandering around, looking at stuff, and writing poems. The kind of guy who struck me as a great role model.

We have had a long cold winter here in the Northland and I spent some of those cold winter days and nights looking at maps and thinking about places I might wander once the weather was better. One of the things I spotted on the map was a thin line headed south, something called Darrow Road with looked to be a less busy route winding south toward Pattison Park. The name "Darrow Road" put me in mind of Basho's most famous work THE NARROW ROAD TO THE DEEP NORTH. Someday, I thought, I will ride the Darrow Road and perhaps, like Basho, be inspired to write poems about it. Today was that day. I set forth right after breakfast.

Leaving behind both the city and the village of Superior, I turned left on County Road C and soon came to Darrow Road. It is a tiny, hilly road with a bit of pavement that soon turns to gravel. A good road for poetry.

Darrow Road goes south.

I bet Basho would ride here

if he had a bike.

Thin lines on a map,

often best for bicycles.

Roads less travelled by.

Pavement and traffic

are east and west of this road.

Gravel grinding south.

Much water in the valley

but the hills are mostly dry.

Yin, Yang, here and now.

White horse watches me,

his brown pony companion 

is less suspicious.

Liquid must flow down

but evaporates upward.

I must coast and grunt.

As I near the park, I see a fox sprint across the road. I don't get a picture, but I do get this poem.

The fleeting fox was

too fast for my camera,

but we were both here.

At the park, I see some noisy swans.

White swans on the lake.

Trumpeters not quite in tune?

Certainly not mute.

Although it has been a dry, cold winter without too much snow and we've had the first fire warnings of the season issued, the combination of snowmelt and recent rains has swollen the rivers. Little Manitou Falls and Big Manitou Falls are flowing quite briskly.

Heavy rains storming

miles away and days ago

are still falling down.

Water once more white,

the snow waited all winter

to flow free today.

When I turn for home, I recognize that a south wind had been urging me on all day. I'm reminded of something my cycling coach said to me years ago.

Tailwinds don't exist,

you either have a headwind

or you're feeling strong.

I don't go back via Darrow Road, opting instead for the slightly more civilized (paved) Country Roads B, A, and C. I take one last photograph to remind me of this hilly day.

Cresting another hill,

I stop, rest, and photograph

the road leading home.