The Thaw

Keith has returned.  A month off the bike, I'm not sure what he's trying to do here, some kind of praise of the Fells I suppose.  Or perhaps it is his way of adjusting to a different look at things.  Either way, he looks happy on the bike.  Four days back now and he is still recovering from a serious case of jet lag and the experience of traveling forward in time by about 600 years.  Life here may move faster than in Afghanistan, though perhaps with more distraction too, but I should let him comment on these matters.

We managed to make it out to the Fells on Monday morning before the warm weather and rains washed away our trails.  These last few weeks motivate a desire to move further north, where the winters are long, the sky sharp and the stillness pervasive.  As harsh as the winters are, they offer a peace like no other season, a hibernation or sorts, a time to retreat into deep thought, to dream on the adventures that summer will bring.  Already the ice is thawing, and the big motions of the coming months are peaking out, slowly, steadily they will be done.

 I officially started my thesis writing this week (I feel like I wrote this once before, but it's for real this time).  It is a messy work, so far.  Like riding, you need to get traction before you can move.  Finding a place to bite into the endeavor is key.  I'm starting where I should have four years ago, qualifying the code I've been using and its sensitivity.  But this is a boring and tedious work, and even the scientists that have been doing this work far longer than me have yet to bother with this stuff.  It is not a glorious work, nor remotely interesting, but it must be done, like many of the jobs in this world, the pieces must be picked up and assembled, the picutre made whole.  Today was a big step in the beginning of things, my first figure entered into the thesis.

Just 2.5 pages per day and I will make it by May.  Already I have something like 16.  Indeed, the ice thaws.