Pretty sunshine near the start of the ride on the 73rd Street bike lane.
Cedar Lake is a little choppy due to the wind, but sparkles very prettily in morning sun.
Hyacinth (above) and daffodil (below) in bloom by parking garage in downtown Cedar Rapids.
Plans for RAGBRAI 2019 seem to be taking shape in the background. The team seems set to do the full week.
I’m traveling a lot this summer—with visits to England and San Francisco planned, and so I had some anxiety about doing the full week of RAGBRAI. But, events seems to be headed that way, and I’m not sure that I mind all that much.
RAGBRAI, I can’t quit you, even if I’m worried about having time to prep for you.
Which made Friday better than expected. I’m busy this Easter weekend—I feel guilty writing this post when I should be grading papers or writing quizzes, but I’m rewarding myself for finishing some projects, so there it is.
And on Good Friday, with a cool spring sun shining, I decided to try a longer morning ride. My goal was 40 miles, although it would be 40 at a guess since the computer on the road bike is iffy and often cuts out.
I headed up the Brentwood Hill, and then rode over to the Cedar River Trail, intending to complete the first long south ride of the year. I was hoping maybe to see Solon.
Lot of construction just south of the river.
Remains of the rail bridge that are planned for site of new bike-hike bridge in Connect CR project.
Another view. I was resting by the bridge site.
Final view.
Train passes under bridge on trail, heading over bridge on river.
Butterfly on dandelions blooming south of Mt. Trashmore area.
I was inspired, a little, by a story in the paper about the Connect CR project. Millions have been collected, and maybe by the time Notre Dame is open again, the Sleeping Giant may be underway. We’ll see.
Anyway, the morning was just a little cool, but warm enough that the season’s first butterflies were joining the bees in the dandelions that are blooming along the way. A few early violets have joined the daffodils and early tulips that are in bloom. It was a gorgeous spring day.
The ride was a little odd. On a long ride, my habit is to pack and consume snacks, knowing that I don’t react all that well to lower blood sugar. But this long ride took place on Good Friday and for a Catholic, that meant packing no snacks.
Cedar River Trail south of river, past construction zone, looking very pretty although trees are still asleep.
Not sure why, but images are getting a bit out of order (have been sequential along the ride so far). This is a view of the new trial south of Ely.
Miles at turn around where trail ends. Computer gave out later, and this is not exactly half my distance because I took a slightly shorter route home.
The trail ends a few miles south of Ely,. Where is Solon?
And we go back in time again. This is the start of the newest leg of the trail, I have just crossed Seven Sisters Road headed south.
First ride on the Hoover Trail this year. Headed south--and yes, this is before Ely and the new trail. As I noted, order among images has broken down.
I pushed quickly down the trail, got to the Hoover Trail, breezed through Ely and then encountered the new trail at Seven Sisters Road. Then, a few miles later, it just ended, in a bit of anticlimax. I don’t know exactly where I was or how far Solon was from where the trail peters out, but I then turned back.
And the wind, which had been my friend, became my not friend. I was climbing the wind hill for most of the return journey, and without snacks, was feeling a bit wilted when I got back to the construction zone where Sokol Park used to be.
Shortly after getting on the new trail--trail beside Seven Sisters Road.
On the return journey--headed north now into wind hill.During a water break, a blackbird in a blooming maple objects to my presence.
The new bridges on the new trail seem very impressive.
As the blackbird yells at me, my bike waits for me to get going again.
Wilted, but oddly happy, too. For one thing, the day, despite the wind hill, was persistently grand. For another, although there was a bit of chafing and butt soreness, I felt I was bearing the first long training ride of the year rather well.
Somewhere in downtown Cedar Rapids, true to form, my computer conked out. I estimate the ride at 45 miles, but it’s a guess. I’m sure I well exceeded the 40-mile goal.
Saturday, with family, I rode another 20 miles or so. And I could ride Saturday with no soreness or discomfort.
RAGBRAI, I can’t quit you and I may be pressed for time to train for you—but this old body seems to react OK to longer bike rides, and that’s a good sign.
Hawk, I think, passes overhead as I ride north back towards Ely.
Daffodils at church in Ely.
Oz never did give nothing to the Tin Man. Which means Oz gave everything to the Tin Man?
I notice pretty white flowers in creek bed by trail--I have no idea what these are.
Bee on dandelion during yet another break--back in CR now, heading home.
The day never turned super warm, but warm enough for butterfly.
Maybe 1 p.m. or so--at the Bridge of Lions.
New signs warn against bikers riding on sidewalks on bridge. Well, OK--but put in a street crosswwalk and curb cut to access trail on south end of bridge so we can get to street easily, please.
More downtown flowers seen as I head in the other direction.
Downtown daffodils.
Nearby crocus.
Second of two family rides Saturday. Took grandson to park in the morning and out to lunch. In the late afternoon, riding on bike lane, family shadows above and below.
I was on campus for much of Sunday afternoon working in the student newspaper office, and felt a need for a break afterwards.
It had been cloudy and cool all day, but as it was setting, the sun founds some breaks. It was pretty as I crossed campus, and I decided to head down to Cedar Lake before going home.
And the light was turning gold and pink as I got to the lake. I was riding with lights on, but there was enough sun left to make a few images of the late.
Three views of Cedar Lake on Sunday evening.
Earlier this week, I took a similar diversion, putting in an extra mile by heading down the Lindale Trial.
Truly warm weather is elusive in Iowa so far this spring, but the crisp, cool evening have some charm.
Wednesday afternoon sky--Enjoying some pretty spring weather.
Daffodils by the bike trail next to a big city parking garage in downtown Cedar Rapids.
Suddenly spring is getting busy. After a wet morning and cloudy early afternoon, it got sunny and warm late in the afternoon.
And bugs decided today was the day. I shot some images of early bees on my flowers before getting my bike out. Shortly after 4, I left home and rode down the Cedar River Trail. The sun looked nice, but clouds were also getting interesting.
The evolution of the sky--mostly sunny as I cross C Avenue (above). Sunshine at Cedar Lake (below). On the way back, sky getting cloudier on Cedar River.
As I rode under a bridge near the river, gnats were suddenly there. Not a heavy crowd—but, bugs in a cloud.
There were a fair number of bikers, walkers and joggers out. As I got down to Tait Cummins Park, the sky started to get a bit darker in the west.
Construction zone south of Cedar River.
When I got back to Cedar Lake, I noticed that the white pelicans had returned, so I made some images of them. But the sky was getting more and more dark, and about 3 miles from my house, it started to sprinkle.
Still, I got home fairly dry. And fairly happy. It was a longer ride than I had planned. My odometer said 16 miles, but it lies—the battery is not good and it kept blinking on and off throughout the ride. I suspect the ride was closer to 25 miles. And it was nice to be out there on two wheels during the first buggy day of spring.
Birds on Cedar Lake, seen on the way back north. Gull, above, pelicans, below.
Late Saturday, April 6, on the Cedar River Trail--lots of bike traffic.
The week that was in CRBiker’s bicycling life:
It was sometimes cool and damp, sometimes warm and sunny, but for sure a spring week, and for that I’m grateful. On Saturday, late in the afternoon, as part of a mutually needed break form a long day of intense grading, my wife and I got the bikes out, make a quick run up to and around the park in Robins, and stopped at DQ on the way home. Peanut Buster Parfaits were on sale.
It was 70 and felt, to cold Iowans, like the first really “warm” day.
The week also featured thoughts of my dad. There were some dampish days where I would have rather ridden my winter beater bike than my better hybrid bike, but the Fancy Beast had a lame front limb—a flat tyre. While in Ames over spring break, I had purchased a patch kit and tube. And this week I finally did a bit of bike maintenance.
The tube turned out to be way too small, so patch it was. And to find the leak, I used the old bucket method—rotating a tube in a bucket until I saw the bubbles, and then marking the spot.
I felt rather uncomfortable doing that. I’m a writer, not a mechanic, and I’m never at my best wielding tools. My opposable thumbs are for spacebars.
Three sky views form bike rides this week, before images of the tube patching. Sometimes sunny, sometimes breezy, sometimes nice--at least it was clearly a spring week in Iowa.
At the bike shop in Ames, they warned me to use bike tools and not screwdrivers to take out the tube--but I could not find my bike tools (which I know I own, I just could not find). Fortunately, with a bit of grunting and cursing, you can remove a mountain bike tyre WHO style--with hands only. The sequence, showing the setup, marking the leak and patching it.
Anyway, as I as there on my front porch late on a nice spring afternoon—I think it was Wednesday but I’m not sure and feel too lazy to simply check the time stamp on the images I will post—I thought of my dad and suddenly missed him. Patching tyre tubes with a bucket of water—that was very much a Saturday activity of my youth, not me personally doing it much, me chatting with and “helping” my dad when I was a boy. In my mind, the patch bucket seems associated with warm Saturdays in California.
And what is life without a few regrets in it? Thinking about California made me think of this peppy song, which has nothing to do with fathers or bicycles, but who wouldn't be briefly entertained by The Regrettes?
Well. It worked. The patch, I mean, although I hope the song worked for you, too. The next morning, the front tyre of the Fancy Beast still was full of air, so I rode that mountain bike to work—but on the morning ride, the front derailleur went “thunk” and would not shift.
Dad, where you are now? I may need more competent tool hands for, and possibly a screwdriver, for this …
