In Which I Praise the Twilight Light

A jogger ahead of me on the Cedar River Trail as I near J Avenue. He was pretty good--never caught up with him as I rode.

The last time I went for a winter ride, it was a grey morning before a cold rain. It was, as it turned out, a nice ride, although short to avoid the rain.

St. Ludmilla seen from Sinclair Levee Trail.

Today was a cool, but nicer day. Rain last week was followed by freezing drizzle and snow, which by Saturday left my small part of the universe slick and risky for riding. But the sun beat down this sunny Sunday, and by afternoon the temperature was well above freezing. Wherever the sun was shining, pavement was bare.

Still, there was water, ice and snow around, and I wasn’t sure if all the pavement in town would be as bare as the street and sidewalk in front of my house. So, I decided to take the winter beater today, rather than the fast road bike. I was helping to entertain grandchildren in the morning, and a nap was a post-lunch priority, so what with one thing and another it was around 3 p.m. when I opened the garage and wheeled the Fancy Beast into the driveway.

The day was windy, a little raw when I was headed south, but sunny and nice. I had a quick errand to run, and after that headed over to the Cedar River Trail in Hiawatha.

Because of the sunshine and warmer weather, plus the weekend, there was a bit more traffic on the trail. I saw a number of bikers, walkers and runners—nowhere near as many as I would on a fine summer Sunday, but still there were people out enjoying the sunshine.

The light this time of year is not long in the afternoon, although the good news, as the coldest part of winter still lies ahead, is that the days are getting longer rather than shorter. The sun was low and shadows long by the time I got to Cedar Lake.

Bridge on Cedar River Trail. Much of the trail was clear but there were times I was glad to be riding my mountain bike.

Cedar Lake.

Shadow of CR Biker at Cedar Laker.

Ice on the south shore of the lake. Turned on my lights at this point.

Cedar River as I head south.

Cedar River bridge in late afternoon light.

On the way home, colorful sky reflected in ice of small outlet of Cedar Lake.

But, since the ride around the lake was the end of my previous ride, I wanted to press on. By accident, I had left the rear light of my bike at home—I had changed the batteries but left the light in the kitchen. But, I figured, I do have a light on my helmet, plus a strand of Christmas lights on the Fancy Beast, so as I left the lake, I stopped to shoot some images of the shoreline and turn on my lights.

I headed across downtown, and neared the Bridge of Lions. My original plan was to cross the river and turn around at Sokol Park, but for some reason the desire to head down the Sinclair Levee Trail. As I turned around to head home, the sun was just touching the horizon.

That time of day as the sun sinks from view has always been about my favorite. As a boy, my fondest memories of summer are of the hazy blue twilight. One advantage of winter is that the pretty golden light and deep blue sky of the end of the day comes sooner. As I headed home, steam plumes from an agricultural factory on the west side of the river were turned a pretty coral pink.

Christmas lights were shining downtown during my return journey. When I got to Cedar Lake, it appeared geese were having some sort of noisy end-of-day committee meeting on a small patch of open water. Whatever motion Stephanie Goose had made, it was causing loud, active discussions.

Christmas lights on a street in downtown.

Christmas tree in Greene Square.

The light was fading as I neared home. It was not full dark as I crossed Noelridge Park, which is good because the sidewalk on the north part of the park is not lit, but the sun was down. It was early night by the time I was on C Avenue—late enough that the sky was turning from deep blue to black, but still too early for most stars. A planet, Venus, I presume, was twinkling by the time I got to Blairs Ferry.

I still have not had the time to go past Ely to check the new trail, but the ride today was nice nonetheless.

Sinclair Levee trail as I start ride home.

Pink light of sundown.

Flock on power lines seen on the way home.

The goose convention on Cedar Lake.

In Which Winter Returns to Iowa

Cedar Lake is mostly iced over, but birds congregate on the patch of water at the north end of the lake on a cloudy Dec. 26, 2018.

The day after Christmas, 2018—rain was in the forecast. An Arkansas winter was the theme of the week, with sometimes bone-chilling wet rains, sometimes freezing drizzle and now and then a bit to snow.

Frankly, at this time of year, I would prefer the white stuff, thank you.

Anyway, skies were grey and rain was in the forecast for the afternoon, so I decided to go for a morning ride. My original plan was to start early and head south, maybe going far enough to check out a bit of the new trail on beyond Ely.

It was not to be. Christmas had been grand including mulled wine, a large feast and family games—I was not exactly bright eyed and bushy tailed the next morning. I was not in bad shape, mind you, just tired and slept in.

By the time I puttered around, had a nice breakfast, read the paper, showered and dressed it was pushing 10. My weather ap said rain would start at 12:30 p.m., which proved wrong, but I still jettisoned my original plan and set out on a more modest ride.

I rode Argent, my road bike, figuring I need the practice on it, and I could cover the maximum distance in the shortest time. I pedaled down to Cedar Lake and circled it. A few hardy, brave souls were out jogging or walking around the lake, but I saw few other bikers and had the rest of the trail up and back to myself.

It felt damp and chilly and was also very cloudy—but despite the dullness of the day, I felt almost euphoric. I had not ridden in several days, and it felt grand to be on the bike, pumping away. Despite the whine of traffic on Interstate 380, the Cedar River Trail felt tranquil. I enjoy the quiet of a winter ride.

As it turned out, while the rain held off until later, it was the start of several wet or icy days. The morning after Christmas was my one ride in this, the last week of 2018. Given the snow and ice today, it's likely to stay that way.

Which makes the 16 miles I rode that day all the more delicious. And when I go home, my wife and youngest son were out on a walk. I texted them, picked them up and we headed to Taste of India for another post-Christmas feast. It was a nice after-bike ride celebration and a warming meal for the start of the cold, wet season here in Iowa.

In Which Gray Is OK on a Cool Day

Cedar Lake--cool afternoon.

It was quiet this afternoon on the Cedar River Trail. I was heading home about 3:30 this afternoon, and the clouds were so thick that I was riding with my lights on.

It was in the 30s, which is not particularly cold for December, but it was moist, the kind of dampness that lends a chilling edge to the temperature.

On my way home, I headed down to Cedar Lake. Despite the gray day, it felt good to be outside. As I paused to make some images of the reflections and geese on the lake, trail traffic picked up a bit. A few brave joggers were out, as well as just a few other bikers.

Save image of Cedar Lake, in color and black and white.

And despite the cries of geese and other birds, the afternoon felt peaceful. I like blue skies and springtime and all that, but I did feel somewhat refreshed by a shot of Mother Nature.

As I headed north to home, the mist increased a bit and the pavement just started to get damp. But I did get home before it really go damp, so it was a good ride.

Geese on lake.

In Which Slips Don’t Lead to a Fall

Corner of C Avenue and Blair's Ferry. I made it up the hill! Looking west as I wait for light that will let me continue south. Some of those tracks are mine.

The back wheel of my bicycle slipped to the right, and the whole thing started to topple.

I’ve been here before, and it was not a happy place. About six years ago, I took a bad fall on ice while riding home from work. A different bicycle had slipped in that case, and the accident was so fast I had no time for reaction or thought, but suddenly found myself landed heard on my right knee, which was sore for months. (Ironically, we visited my son and daughter-in-law in Seattle that spring break, my fall had been in January, and I was hobbling around on a still very sore knee in that hilly city when my son invited me to ride RAGBRAI for the first time. I said yes, and don’t regret it, but it was a gusty move that sore season).

Luckily, this morning the spill was different. For the earlier fall, I had been in the middle of a block on a hybrid bike, and I was probably going way too fast—maybe only 9 mph, which is slow on a bike, but too fast on ice.

This morning, I was on a mountain bike—lower to the ground to begin with. Wider tyres, for one thing, and for the other I was deliberately moving very, very slowly. I had just left home and turned onto C Avenue, and I think the turn, slow as it was, was a factor in the spill.

So the great accident of 2018 turned into me standing over a partly toppled bicycle, not me suddenly on the ground with a crushed knee joint. Because I had just turned north on the sidewalk on C Avenue, and I was still close to home, I did consider going home and driving today.

I arrive at the top of another hill--a less icy one, thank you MMU Facilities. Shadow of a biker Wednesday morning on the Rohde Family Plaza.

The Fancy Beast in the bike rack at Warde Hall.

I'm not the only biker. But I bet Dr. Cross stayed warmer than me!

 But, no. I was physically fine, and I figured the spot I was on would be the worst pavement I would have on the whole ride—if I ascended the hill, I would come to a better places. Plus, I was gambling that the afternoon ride would be much better, since I knew it was to be a sunny, if cool, day.

Well, I was both wrong and right. I under estimated how much of the sidewalk would be a thin layer of snow covering and concealing ice—in fact, the first mile or so of my morning commute, until I left the sidewalk for the bike lane on C Avenue, was like that. Going slightly downhill to Collins Road, I stopped peddling and put my feet down and bike-skied down the hill so I could use both feet and brakes to arrest the bike’s momentum.

But, I am happy to report, I had no more slips. And I’m glad I did ride today. The afternoon was, for this time of year, gorgeous. I left work after 4, so the sun was ready to go down, and I headed to Cedar Lake on the Cedar River Trail. As I expected, the sunset was gorgeous there, and I shot some images before I passed one biker stopped by the trail.

“Everything OK?” I asked.

“Sure,” he said. “I just stopped to take a picture of the sunset. It’s so beautiful!”

Sun setting at Cedar Lake, Wednesday, Dec. 6, 2018.

And it was. I had already snapped a few myself, and stopped again after chatting with him, only to be passed by the other biker. Later, at the other end of the lake, he had stopped again, and I shot the sunset with him in the foreground.

It only got to 30 or so today, but sunshine will clear thin ice from pavement at that temperature, and that’s what happened today.

I am not even sure about Thursday. It will get colder, but not too cold to ride a bicycle. But will the pavement be clear enough to chance the hybrid bike? Maybe, although I do feel some sense of loyalty to The Fancy Beast after today’s not-so-bad fall. It was a good day to have wide tyres!

The lake and the other biker as light fades.