Saturday, March 21, 2009

Papa's Got a Brand New Bag...

Today I slept in till noon. Wild dreams and thoughts all night long.

I watched a movie with my neighbor and his wife, knitted her a beautiful hat made with alpaca yarn and double wrapped for warmth. It took longer than usual but turned out great.

The highlight of my day was my snowmachine mission. Because the town snowblower has been on the shits for about a month our road to the airport is completely gone. The town no longer has trucks circling around on errands, running passengers and supplies back and forth from the airport. Its all snowmachines. This also means no garbage service. Garbage bags have been piling up and I finally had enough, I loaded up the dog sled that is attached to the back of our school snowmachine, got all bundled up, grabbed my headphones and iPod and set out for the area on the tundra where we put our garbage to burn.

What I really want to talk about is the selection process I go through when choosing the perfect music for flying across the tundra on a snowmachine toting garbage. I ask myself, what is the most out of place music that would go with this exciting endeavor. Some rock music? Maybe some radiohead could really capture the vast expansiveness of the tundra. To serious though. Maybe some hip-hop, the Blue Scholars are always good for the soul, or maybe some Jurassic 5. It just didn't feel right. I just scroll up and down the artist list until I simply feel it. And there before lay the only possible option, it glowed on the screen, and I just knew it was right with the universe.

"I feeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeel Good, da na na na na na na, I knew that I would now da na na na na na na na" Jame mother effin Brown! Yeah Baby!

Before I knew it I was flying across the tundra on the SkiDoo 500 wide track, sled full of garbage bouncing behind me in the single side view mirror. Just imagine it.

"Papa's Got a brand new Bag."....of garbage! I was grinning underneath my face mask. At -13 with the windchill (plus the 35 miles per hour I was going) it was so cold that the two little triangles of skin on my cheeks almost got frostbite even though they were barely exposed.

I got a sick satisfaction as I buzzed passed the dinosaur sized ravens picking through the burning garbage pile, scattering them into the sky. I parked about 50 feet away uphill, untied the garbage, and hurled the garbage bags through the sky into the hole.

It was as if each bag I threw was also a bag of my troubles. Each hearken bag flew threw the air with worries on my heart crumple inside. I know this entire image is bizarre and possibly sick, but I felt good. Now even lighter without the garbage I whizzed and jumped up and down the tundra. I was going so fast that I got an icecream headache through my hat.

I love the feeling of puting one knee up on the seat and standing as you hit the throttle on a flat smooth surface. I'm so not a motorhead, but something about riding a death defying machine has the ability to help forget your troubles, even if only momentarily.

This was a good day for spring cleaning.

2 comments:

Susan Iverson said...

Sounds like fun, cold but fun. See, these are the kinds of adventures you would not have had if you didn't spend these two years up there. I'm glad you feel good.

Randall H. Sloot said...

I have the best image in my head of you skidding over the tundra with garbage and a grin. good times.

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