Social Distancing is Better Outdoors

With coronavirus rattling the world and social distancing becoming the new, required norm, take it outside. It might not ease the health crisis but it will sooth your mental health and steady your physical well being.

A few tips from USA Today.

Talking about COVID-19

I live in a college town in Kentucky. Friendly. Small. Busy during the school year; not so much when students are out of town. Like now. It’s Spring Break week but the dorms will not refill this weekend. Dorms will only re-open long enough for students to get their stuff and get out. Studies for the remainder of the semester will be online thanks to the coronavirus that is rattling the world. Governor’s orders.

Our governor, an excellent man who was elected by a razor thin margin last November, is aggressively leading the curve to get and stay ahead of the virus. Some of his moves have been unpopular, but necessary.

Citizens have been advised to stay home if they can, work from home if possible and get out only when needed. My wife, a professor at the now shuttered college, and I have largely complied. We understand that the risk is real.

Still, you shouldn’t be a hermit. I ran a few needed errands yesterday. I was out early and at the bank not long after the doors opened. I was the only customer and, as we’ve all been advised, stood several feet from the cashier while we conducted our business. The newly-appointed bank president, a young woman about my daughter’s age, walked by, flashed a friendly smile and noted the rainy weather. It was surprisingly pleasant in a normal sort of way.

Later in the day I stopped at the tire store to have a damaged tire replaced on my wife’s car. The shop had called and said the replacement tire was in and ask if I could come that afternoon. I waited in the customer waiting area, alone, while the manager and his helper quickly completed their work. The manager came in and gave me the bill. The place doesn’t take cards so I paid with a check. I stood to leave and he walked with me to the service bay door. We stood about four feet apart.

“What do you think about all this?” he asked.

I knew what he meant. He meant the coronavirus and the disruptions it was causing and was going to cause. I didn’t know this man. We were about the same age but life had lead us down different paths. One neither better or worse than the other, just different.

I answered him as honestly as I could.

“I think it’s serious business and it should be taken seriously,” I said. “I know people are hurting and businesses are hurting but what’s being done is being done from necessity. But no one really knows what’s going to happen.”

“Trump says he does,” he said. “But he don’t.”

I agreed but was unsure how to proceed when he continued.

“I can’t stay home,” he said. “I do this.” He pointed toward the two-car service bay. “I got to get inside peoples’ cars.”

Like me, the guy was probably just inside the “at risk” 60 and older age group. And, like me, he probably gives this little if any thought. He makes his living with his hands.

“I think we just need to be careful,” I said. “Be cautious. Wash your hands. Keep your distance. Get people in and out as fast as you can. If you’re careful and do those things you’ll be alright.”

He pointed out the door toward a small building across the street. An insurance agency. “That guy keeps his door locked,” he said flatly. “Got a sign on the door and lets people in then he wipes down the door handle and wipes it again when they leave.”

I was unsure how to respond to this. “I don’t know that that’s really necessary,” I finally said. “You just need to be careful. But I think if someone came in here that you didn’t feel good about it’d be okay to ask them to wait outside. Or to leave. It’s your shop.”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

He pushed open the door. We walked into the service bay and I opened the door to my car.

“Be careful,” he said.

“I will. You, too.”

Camp Cold Departure

The gear is packed, camp is set and your ready to go. Then something unexpected sends you in another direction and instead of lashing on snowshoes and gazing across a frozen lake you’re buckled into a seat gazing down at clouds, which, for me, always seem to turn the world upside down.

Hopefully I can return soon, maybe for some summer camping, fishing and paddling then again when the water turns to ice.

Until then, thanks to Maria Hennessey at SMAK Strategies, Mark, Corin and the folks at Baffin, Limberlost Forest and Wildlife Reserve and all the rest.

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Descending through the clouds the airplane begins to groan, as if it is unsure what to do. Then the wheels lower, grind and lock. No one makes a sound. The surrounding white becomes milky like a tile floor tracked with muddy boots. Snow covered roofs emerge and we land.

Cold Camp Day 1

BURLINGTON, Ontario – Travel days are fun because even if the airplane had the feeling of blasting over 10 dozen speed bumps at 500 mph and had been designed with seats about half the size needed for most of the people (myself included) squeezed into them, when you arrive at a beautiful town like Burlington and the nice folks at the Waterfront Hotel make you feel at home, it’s fun.

Dinner tonight at a place called Emma’s Backporch, which must be grand to sport a name like that.

A stop at Baffin HQ tomorrow then on to Limberlost Forest and Reserve for two days and nights in the woods and snow. Snowshoeing, which I’ve never done, fat biking on a frozen lake, which will also be something new, maybe some ice fishing and more. Details to come.

The photo is the view from room 502. Not bad.

Camp Cold

I was whining to a friend and colleague who is skilled at blogging and social media that my blog wasn’t getting much traction.

“When did you last post?” he asked.


I vowed to do better and will start now.

Departing for Toronto and points north Wednesday for Camp Cold, which will include a little more than camping. Stops include Toronto, Burlington and Limberlost Forest and Wildlife Reserve The good folks at Baffin and others are helping, including Maria Hennessey at SMAK Thanks to all.

More from Canada on Wednesday.

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You might have noticed a change of the blog title. End of the Road and Turn Left were directions to my uncle’s house. When I see you I’ll tell you the story.