Whose woods these are I think I know

Actually I am pretty sure I know whose woods these are. Today I went to an all day meeting at the Cloquet Forestry Center. The Center, located just south of Cloquet, is owned by the UofM. It is a research and instruction center for the University's Forestry program. This is what it looked like today. It was 2 degrees on the bank time and temperature display when the bus passed through Cloquet. Winter has arrived in Cloquet.

I have not taken the course of instruction from the University but I do know that those are red pine, also known as Norway pine.Here comes the bike part. The main speaker was a geologist whose subject for the day was carbon sequestration in the Mid-Continent Rift as a strategy for dealing with global warming. The part that I heard was the idle chit-chat introduction that our geology guy gave him that said he was a marathoner and a triathlete. OK, I know what triathlon is so I went up to him at the break and after waiting for all the geophysicists and such to complete their technical questions I asked him what he rides.

He was immediately even more animated than he had been while talking about the Mid-Continent Rift. He rides a Cervelo. I knew that Cervelo was one of the favorites of the triathlon crowd but after today's conversation I know quite a bit more than I previously knew.

He and I had a nice moment as we discussed the point which I believe I originally read on FatCyclist about how few people there are who understand and appreciate what a wonderful thing a really nice bike which fits properly is and what a wonderful tool such a bike is and what wonderful things you can accomplish with such a tool.

Bike post, and here's some poetry:

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

-Robert Frost