It would be exceedingly tempting to editorialize on all of the strange / surreal events of the year 2020. This however has been done ad nauseum, and I’m not sure I could add much to many of the things that we already know and perhaps most importantly, don’t know. We have witnessed a continued attack on President Trump and a bogus attempt at impeachment, a deadly yet mysterious pandemic, completely self-imposed economic calamity and a nascent recovery, violent riots and demonstrations in major American cities that have seemingly been allowed and in many cases encouraged by political leadership (while in stark contrast, a complete shutdown of church gatherings has been endorsed), Western fires that are to date among some of the worst in recorded history, and the death of a Supreme Court Justice. As to what is next, only time will tell but something tells me, we may not have seen the worst of the year 2020. The Chinese have a saying that bad things come in threes. Wishful thinking, I suppose…

Vladimir Lenin, who seemingly is enjoying a surge of popularity in some circles, as unbelievable as that might sound to those of you knowing his resume reasonably well, once said- “There are decades where nothing happens and there are weeks where decades happen.” No one ever said that dangerous, misguided people can’t come up with witty and thought-provoking aphorisms. This could easily be the theme for 2020 and it is still only late- September.

Living in Portland, Oregon I feel as though I have “enjoyed” a ringside seat in the ongoing Shakespearean tragedy that has been the year 2020 unfolding. Also, since I am retired I have had an opportunity see events unfold more slowly and a little more contemplatively than most. For this, I am actually incredibly grateful, and I would love to take this opportunity to share a few nuanced observations which could have been gleaned through the jaundiced eye of close contact and suspended disbelief.

I have always been a true creature of habit who finds solace in routine and ritual. I go to bed early, I wake up early, I exercise every day (early) and tend to do a lot of the same things in the gym and in my outdoor exercise choices.  I do them fairly well because I have been doing them for many years. There is a real comfort in that for better or worse. Enter Covid-19 and the socio-economic lockdown.  

My whole world of routine 1.0 changed as I predictably and diligently defaulted to a new 2.0 routine. The gyms were soon closed. My ability to run long miles at age 57 suddenly began to desert me physically and mentally as I knew it would one day (great timing!). Good friends that I had seen in the morning fraternal ritual at the gym for many years were no longer a part of my life. It was often cold and rainy outside in the initial stages of lockdown. I figured if I couldn’t run long miles and I didn’t have the ability to go to a gym, I knew I could certainly go on really long walks, throw in a little running, and then do pushups and planks for strength training. Also, I could spend a lot more time on my bike than I had in the past. Viola’, I had a plan and a way to get through what I expected to be a brief delay in an imminent return to normalcy. This would have been mid-March or so.  

Little did I know that normalcy would prove to be an elusive concept. Stage one of the Great American Shake Out (Fake Out works well also) started out normally enough. I hit the Springwater Corridor Trail on both my bike and for my long run / walks. I wasn’t the only one with a similar idea. Initially people were friendly for the most part; lots of hellos, very few masks, and a general “we are in this together” type of attitude / vibe prevailed… I must add that the SCT is a magical place for the fitness community in both Clackamas and Multnomah counties. * It became a place to both escape and confront (more on this later). I have believed for several years now that the only way to truly know a place is to walk it. So, while I had biked and run on the SCT many times in the last 15 years or so, I had only walked there when an injury forced me to do so. Until recently I had viewed walking as something that old people do. I suppose the joke is on me, yet I am happy to report, the rewards and insights have been plentiful in this year like no other.

As mentioned, the initial days and weeks were somewhat festive for the many people who flocked to the SCT as a means to escape the tedium of economic / social lockdown. On an “early inning” Covid Crisis excursion on the multi-use trail, I even remember thinking that it reminded me a little of the immediate aftermath of 911 back in 2001. I was living in Camarillo, CA. at the time and I recall a friendliness and patriotism that I have not experienced since. This was the closest to that atmosphere I have experienced since, yet in retrospect, it was similar in only the loosest definition of the word. Sadly, post 911 unity did not last, And, sadder still, it is difficult if not impossible to imagine a return to the innocent passion and collective pride experienced in the immediate aftermath of 911. Be that as it may, this was the highwater mark for 2020.  People smiled, you could see their face, all of it, and not just the two slits of the eyes. There was more a sense of optimism than a sense of fear. The BLM / ANTIFA nightmare had not begun so Covid and its multifaceted tentacles was still flying solo as the main threat to our existential right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. None of us were happy about being locked up inside our homes, yet spring was here and The Trail offered a chance to clear the mind, recruit a few endorphins to run amuck through our moribund systems, and soak in a little extra vitamin D that we in the Pacific Northwest are so inclined crave. It was cathartic and renewing in a time of so few options.

Slowly but surely, things began to change. At first, a few people began to wear masks. They also began to create space between you and themselves. Often they looked away or would cast a glance of suspicion and distrust that could only be interpreted through the eyes, with no opportunity to be cancelled by the mouth via the potential of a reassuring smile. I came to understand that friendliness is equally dependent on the eyes and the mouth. One without the other is like a glorious sun with no blue sky. I made it a point to never wear a mask when I was out walking, hiking, biking, or running. Based on everything I had read or heard (including much which was ultimately censored) and the pure unmitigated power of common sense, it struck me as idiotic and it still does. Out in nature and on the trails / streets, I choose not to breathe in my own carbon dioxide. Call me crazy and I’m sure many did. Probably not the last time…

As spring turned to summer, the fear only seemed to intensify for many. Perhaps the rioting and looting (never saw much protesting), that were now a commonplace, nightly event in downtown Portland worked as some type of fear quotient magnifier that caused seemingly sane people to imagine boogeyman pathogens lurking in the private air space of each and every sentient being. I can recall biking, moving at a 16-17 mph clip and seeing a walker in the distance scramble to adjust their mask as I whisked by. I saw people running at respectable paces, wearing masks up to their eyeballs. If that doesn’t blow your mind, try it sometime. I would exchange the customary courtesy nod with biker after biker, heading in the opposite direction, on a trail that is largely rural, looking like identity hiding pirates dressed up for Halloween; I must admit I began to question their sanity. But, perhaps my favorite display of abject fear and / or utter stupidity occurred on an actual nature trail that I began to run / walk as an alternative to the SCT. Hikers coming in the opposite direction would literally dive into the brush as they saw me coming in the opposite direction. Granted the trail is not particularly wide yet I could not help shaking my head and forming a smile as I marched along like Moses parting the Red Sea. Talk about power? You don’t know power until you see actual adults practically diving off a trail, IN THE MIDDLE OF A FOREST, to avoid a fellow unmasked human being in the Age of Covid. I can only think of one reason why seemingly rational people behave in such an irrational manner and the culprit is FEAR. The bigger mystery for me is how a virus that is VERY contagious and yet, NOT PARTICULARILY deadly transformed people into such a draconian level of odd behavior. Quite frankly, I honestly and sincerely, am completely bewildered and astonished. OK, I get it; wear a mask, what can it hurt. In fact, it just might help. I kept thinking of the fact that simple questions were never asked nor explained. What kind of mask? What type of material? How long should you use it? What if you touch your face while wearing one? And I can think of many others. There was a time in this still unborn country when far hardier souls fought a war over taxation without representation; perhaps we should not submit so meekly to “maskation” without proper explanation. 

I began to notice another strange part of the Season of Covid (as if the aforementioned wasn’t strange enough). The litter began to change. Ever notice that litter has the ability to tell a story about the season or the state of affairs in the city / state / country. The Portland area has a large homeless society. Even in places where you do not see them, you see evidence of their presence and the vast majority of this evidence is pretty unseemly. Broken glass, hypodermic needles, defecation, and discarded dirty clothing are just some of the artifacts one might encounter on the Springwater Trail. Runners, bikers, and walkers leave their share of trash as well though it is usually quite benign. I began to notice a new item of trash with continuing regularity as the summer progressed. The blue mask that I have come to despise began to be a common sight on my outdoor sojourns. The optimist in me likes to imagine suddenly enlightened individuals tearing them off in a moment of clarity and rebellion against the “benevolent” control that has been forced upon us. The truth is probably something much less idyllic. There is nonetheless a story behind every one of those discarded masks and there are far too many for it to be simple civic neglect. The bottom line— that which we discard tells much about the life and times of the people who discarded it.  

I am no scientist or psychologist and I have no desire to be either one. I also have no desire to present a bunch of statistics to support my assertion that “a draconian level of odd behavior” abounds relative to Covid. Suffice it to say that a death rate of far less than 1% (among those that contract it) does not seem to justify the level of mass hysteria we are seeing. In fact, for someone under age 70 your risk of dying is close to statistical zero. We have been told to be afraid and we have responded in kind. Again, the reaction simply does not match the threat for the vast majority of people. I for one, feel it has been a complete embarrassment that we will look back on years from now and wonder how it happened. And, not in the way that we look back at bell bottom pants and mullet hair styles but in a way we look back on things far more sinister and shortsighted. Since I do not know when or how this will end, I’ll reserve for now a comparable example, and a conclusion to the chapter. Once you scare the citizenry sufficiently, it is possible and in fact quite plausible that behavior can be controlled and dictated. I have seen much that is strange and unsettling in 2020 and I am fairly confident of more to come, but I will never forget the spring and summer of 2020 and the lessons learned on The Springwater Trail.

https://www.traillink.com/trail/springwater-corridor/    *

“Think of how stupid the average person is and realize half of them are stupider than that.”

George Carlin

“One believes things because one has been conditioned to believe them.”

Aldous Huxley, Brave New World

TMC

September 30, 2020