Journey to the House of Balls

White paint traced the black lines of the graffiti letters on the concrete of a freeway overpass spanning the Cedar Lake Trail: a failed cover-up. I imagined a subversive city worker performing the cleanup: "F*** you Mitch McConnell" was still visible, white on gray.

"Images hiding in plain sight" was my theme for the day. I was on my way to three places I had often passed, but never noticed.

Urban Hike: Early Nordeast Houses

If I didn't know better I would walk right past this unassuming house. It looks to be about the right size and style for Nordeast (Northeast Minneapolis), and it's in a typical neighborhood.

A typical Nordeast neighborhood has a bunch of churches and bars. There's five churches within a couple blocks of this house, and plenty bars within staggering distance.

The house was built some time in the 1850's through 1870's making it one of just a handful of houses in Minneapolis surviving from that time. The Minneapolis fire of 1893 destroyed more than 23 surrounding blocks, but somehow spared this house.

Urban Hike and Bike: All Over the Nordeast Map

Nordeast (Northeast Minneapolis) encapsulates much of the early working class history of Minneapolis, but it gets short shrift in guide books.

Recently I've been exploring Nordeast, trying to decode it's history and culture. Later in this post I'll introduce some tools I've developed, including an interactive map and a feature to customize and print Nordeast guides.

Veterans Day 2015

Today I cycled to Sheridan Veterans Memorial beside the Mississippi River in Northeast Minneapolis.

The monument reflects on the cost of war, expresses hope for peace, and is even-handed about the conquerors and vanquished.

The push to build this memorial came from veterans. It was dedicated just two years ago, so it is not a strong part of the public consciousness. Memorials at the State Capitol, Fort Snelling, and Victory Memorial Parkway get more attention.

I stood there alone, Veterans Day 2015. Balloons had been attached to some of the markers indicating the day had not been forgotten.

Ten conflict markers commemorate America's wars, including the one war on Minnesota soil, the U.S.-Dakota War of 1862.

Urban Bike: Mill City

Much of the early wealth of Minneapolis came from grain. This grain legacy translates into locally headquartered companies like Cargill and General Mills.

Cargill, the largest privately held company in the country, manages 25% of US grain exports. General Mills manages ubiquitous brands like Betty Crocker and Pillsbury.

The first flour mill in what is now Minneapolis was built in 1823 to serve Fort Snelling. From the 1880's through the 1920's, Minneapolis earned the nickname "Mill City" because its mills were the most productive in the world.

I spent a day on my bicycle finding significant examples from these productive times.

Urban Bike: Yard Art in a Civil Society

I see things from my bicycle I don't see from a bus or car. 

It might be an old guy on his bicycle, stovepipe hat, bushy beard, archaic black clothes, a character from a Dickens novel. Or a bearded guy cycling the Midtown Greenway in a girlie dress. 

They seek attention, or inhabit an alternate reality, or express art. I'm fine with any of that.

"Did you see that?" a cyclist asks politely as he speeds past me.

It's not just the fellow cyclists who enrich my cycling experience. I get to take in all the individuality around me, including the yards in front of people's homes. 

I'd like to tell stories of three of those yards, including the yard of one of the bearded cyclists I mentioned at the top of this post.  

Urban Hike: Nordeast Minneapolis

Nordeast, looking towards Downtown.

Last weekend, the annual Art-a-Whirl artists' studio tour drew crowds to Northeast Minneapolis ("Nordeast"). 

Nordeast was a quieter place back in February when I went there on an urban hike.

It was a winter's day, but I took advantage of the shoveled sidewalks and warm, locally owned businesses for coffee and lunch. I felt a strong sense of place: each building had stories to tell; this is no Anywhere USA with its temporary cityscapes and mandatory car ownership.

As I walked, I played audio produced, narrated, and sung by the people who live in the neighborhood. These recordings revealed political, social, and historical layers I would otherwise have missed.

Our Traditional Tree

Life, Phase 3, is an opportunity to simplify. Simplification will become a necessity when, one day, we move from our current home to something more manageable.