In Which We’ll Call It 47 Miles

Morning sky during my ride to work--waiting to cross Collins Road at F Avenue. A cool, pretty morning gave way to a warm, sunny afternoon--it was an ideal biking day.

I biked a few extra miles this morning before heading to work—on the way home from the gym, I did the “figure 8” to go up the neighborhood hill twice. I also deliberately took the “back way” in to campus when I got there—the hill is steeper on the back side.

So I had more than 10 miles for the day on my bike computer.

I left campus shortly after 4, and I knew I was going to ride for a while. I toyed with going down to the Prairie Park Fishery—I have not been there for a while—but decided to head north, mostly because the Hiawatha Library is on the way, and I knew from my stop at the Cedar Rapids Library yesterday that they had a book about Vietnam that I wanted to check out.

The library stop was OK, although the seat of my bike came completely off when I tried to lift the bike with it to fit it into the bike rack. Well, I was able to put it back together quickly, and north I went.

I saw my sister headed south on the trail and said hello as I headed north.

I didn’t really know how far I would go, but it seemed too early to turn around when I made it to Lafayette. I had the idea that I wanted to do maybe 40 miles—I am slowly trying to increase my daily distances as I get ready for RAGBRAI. So I went on to Center Point before I turned around.

It was a perfect biking day—warm, but not hot, a bit of a breeze, but just enough to cool you down without creating a “wind hill.” The ride to Center Point was a bit mushy beyond the 10-mile mark, where the pavement ends, but not too bad.

It was getting past 6 as I got ready to leave Center Point. I was well past 30 miles and wondered how many I would do for the day. I made a bet with myself that I could get home by 7:40.

Computer at home after ride. Well call it 47.

Well, I won. I’m pretty happy to have gone 47 miles, and I wasn’t even wearing bike shorts, just regular clothes. Since my computer went into coma mode now and then, I’m reasonably sure that calling the day “47” isn’t just rounding—it’s probably pretty accurate.

After I got home, I had to fix myself dinner. I boiled an egg and made a chef’s salad and toast (and then devoured a bag of potato chips, I’m not proud to confess). As the egg boiled, I sipped on a beer.

Lumberjack, it was. And it, and I, am OK.

It was cold and wet. Just what one wants of beer after a bike ride.