In Which Golden Light Illuminates the Way

Cedar Lake, Oct. 4, 2017, between 5:30 and 6 in the evening.

The light of fall this afternoon was too tempting. I have to write a mid-term exam for Friday, grade a set of papers for Thursday and tackle another backlog of grading for a  speech class that has 50 students in two sections.

But this early evening held that special pretty light of a cool day after a storm. This morning, my wife and I went together to the gym early, and it rained pretty hard while we were there. But both the TV weather people and the online radar suggested we were at the end of this bout of welcome water from the sky.

So at 7:30, I took the Fancy Beast out of the garage. For some reason, last week I broke yet another spoke on my hybrid bike Clarence, so I’ve been riding like a Seattle techie for the past few days. My son received this mountain bike as a perk from Microsoft 8 or 9 years ago. The bike had been passed on to a son-in-law for a few years, and then when he moved to England, came to me.

The bike, a black Raleigh mountain bike, did not get heavy use after I got it because I also owned a Schwinn mountain bike, passed on by my youngest son. For almost a year, it collected dust in the garage because a severely wobbly back wheel made it impossible to ride. Anyway, a few weeks ago I took the Raleigh into the Marion bike shop to see if Cranky could fix the untrue back wheel.

He could, and did. “It’ll be a good little bike,” he said when I picked it up.

And indeed it has been. I already wrote about riding the Fancy Beast on the Grant Wood Trail a while back. Now, while I wait to have a day when I get home during business hours at the bike shop, and because it’s meant to be the cold or wet weather bike anyway, I’ve been riding the Fancy Beast.

And having a blast. It is, compared to my road and hybrid bikes, slower—but not as slow as its looks would suggest. It is relatively light, and rolls with little resistance, so it can get going at a good speed on a flat or downhill.

Anyway, this morning I would have ridden it even if the hybrid was ride worthy—it was cloudy and wet. The Fancy Beast is my winter beater bike, the one I choose on days when stuff from the sky may complicate my biking life. I aired it up and applied some wet lube t the chain, and I was off.

The air was damp, and I’m sure I splashed on myself as I rode over the wet sidewalks and streets. But the day turned fair and cool, the kind of weather we haven’t seen enough of yet this fall in which September was a summer month—sunshine and 60s. The kind of day a light sweater felt just right and biking is a true pleasure even in the damp morning—but especially in the cool, dry afternoon.

So, despite it all, on my ride home tonight I took the time to swing down to Cedar Lake on the Cedar River Trail. As I expected, the golden light of late day in October made this dirty little pond quite pretty, as you can see. Later, as I neared home, I circled the C Avenue pond at Rockwell-Collins, again enjoying the fall light.

Cedar Lake seen from the canopy of trees in the park on the east side.

Sunset at Rockwell-Collins pond on C Avenue.

Golden sun shines down and makes the world a place of transcendent beauty at this time of year. As you can imagine, for clearly obvious reasons, I’ve been in a delicate, poor mood for much of this week. The carnage in Las Vegas, the hurricanes, old fluff and puff’s odd lack of empathy when faced with suffering Americans in Puerto Rico—it has not been a good time for a man who professionally has to pay attention to the news of the day.

RIP Tom Petty. You picked a lousy week to die in, not that it’s your fault. Somehow, we all feel we are free falling.

So maybe it’s not such a surprise I took some time out for a gratuitous lake ride. I enjoyed it, as I also enjoyed the fall light during last Friday’s Mount Mercy Bike Club Ride north to Robins.

Bike club shadows Friday at Robins park. OK, it's not really October yet in this picture, but almost.

So thanks, October skies. It’s not as if you make it all better—the hurts and anxieties run too deep for that. But being reminded that there is still beauty in the world helps.