In Which I Become the Vampire Rider

Sunday night on C Avenue on the way to Noelridge Park.

Sunday was very windy in Iowa—the windy day after the storms of Saturday.

So, I waited until late in the day, when the wind let up a bit, to take a very short twilight ride. I ride over to Noelridge park and back—leaving home at 7:10 or and getting back in time to join an 8 p.m. Zoom meeting of the campus newspaper staff that I advise.

It was quick but pretty. Many views:

Computer at end of Sunday ride.

Collins Road looking quiet about 7:40 p.m. Sunday as I head home.

Corner of Blairs Ferry and C Avenue about 7:15 p.m. I am heading south from home towards the park.

Noelridge Park Sunday night.

Sign at closed playground in Noelridge Park.

Monday, I was able to leave a bit earlier, so I set a more ambitious goal—riding out to Lafayette. However, when I got 5 miles north of Hiawatha, it was getting pretty dark and chilly, so I decided to turn back. All-in-all, I rode almost 20 miles, which wasn’t bad.

Sunday’s ride was on the hybrid bike—more stable in wind. Monday was rather liberating, going faster on the road bike.

One Sunday, I was impressed at how little traffic there was, particularly on Collins Road (which I did not ride along, but crossed). Monday, the Cedar River Trail was empty at times, but between Robins and Hiawatha, there were a fair number of people. Some, I think, were family units, so it was pretty legit for them to be close to each other since they live together. But there were some teen clusters that made me wonder a bit.

Stay apart, my friends, it is what we can do. Even if you think you’re young and will live forever, this disease has made some who are not in the vulnerable groups very ill-don’t do the field experiment to find out if you’re one of the unlucky ones.

And even if you are lucky, you have parents, uncles, grandparents, young relatives with asthma or other conditions—there’s lots of reasons to not cluster in social groups right now.

I was riding alone. I did my best to maintain distance. Let’s keep it together and remember to keep it apart.

Many, many biking images:

74th Street Monday about 6:30 p.m.--fair amount of traffic and people out on the sidewalks. I have the bike lane to myself.

Maple tree in bloom on Council Street.

Bike (above and below) on bridge at Robins.

Sunset seen from Cedar River Trail north of Robins.

Some traffic on the trail.

Very Iowa scene seen from Cedar River Trail--barn as sunset.

Horse near barn in sunset glow.

Cell tower at sunset on Cedar River Trail. Or is it Cedar Valley Nature Trail? Whichever is north.

Sunset.

Barn and windmill as sunset.

Lights seen on the way home in the dark.

Computer at end of ride.

Bridge in Robins.

Bike at sunset.

Last look.

In Which Biking Alone Becomes More Social

Outdoor stage at Lowe Park in Marion Iowa after sunset on March 26.

My bike rides this week have been short, and late. I’ve been busy during the day.

Thursday was no exception, and by the time all was said and done, it was pushing 7 p.m. I decided to ride in the twilight, and got the road bike out for a quick trip to the trail at Lowe Park in Marion.

I passed a few bikers, walkers and runners. I was fairly well lit, but I was surprised at how dark some others were—on the way home, long after sunset in the full dark of early night, I encountered a walker going in the opposite direction. He clearly saw me coming and we were both on the far right edge of the pavement—but I didn’t see him until I was almost on top of him. He had on black clothing, head to toe, with a hood up against the evening chill.

I hope he didn’t cross many streets.

Anyway, although I saw a number of people, the traffic was light, and I avoided any close physical proximity. I thought it was just restful to be out—my brief bicycle rides this week have been good for stress release.

Facebook banner of group.

And my brother-in-law sent me, earlier this week, a link to a Facebook public group that I’ve joined, the “Social Distance Cycling Club.” Other than the Linn County Trail Association, which I just support through membership, and my RAGBRAI team, bicycle is mostly a solitary activity for me.

Anyway, the Facebook group is all about sharing socially distance cycling in the time of COVID-19. It’s fun, seeing all the images from around the country—and Iowa seems well represented in the group. One Des Moines cycles posted a short video of the musical pipes at Water Works Park in Des Moines—something like that, sculptures designed to sing when the wind passes over them—would be cool to have along all of the new trails that are in the planning stage in my area.

As I noted, I’m like Lobo on the bike. I hunt my biking pleasures alone. The Facebook group does allow me to see materials posted by some kindred spirits.

So my solitary activity is now linked to something social in a time of hunkering down and keeping our distance from each other. Cool.

In Which I Night Ride to Ghost Town

Bike with lights on, ready for ride home Tuesday night. Pretty proud of myself for holding camera steady in the dark.

I was riding to campus Tuesday night, and felt faint. I had to stop, take a drink of water and rest, briefly. Stress, I think, is getting to me, so I took it easy from that point on and rode very slowly.

The good news is that the rest of the cool, evening spring ride was uneventful. It’s odd to be on a bike this late when days are getting longer, but the streets were very familiar and very quiet. I am used to night riding, but it happens more often in winter. I was deliberately going to campus late, hoping not to see anybody. Isolation is, well, isolating, but necessary.

I went to copy some computer files that I can’t access from home, and hopefully won’t do many more rides to the college campus where I teach. The semester goes on, online. Honestly the adjustment to online teaching has been pretty rough—but harder, I imagine, on students. Their futures are uncertain, this is a historic event for me and I can only imagine facing it with only two decades of experience rather than six.

Too often, six decades is still not enough.

The ride, despite the incident, was comforting. Getting out is harder to do these days—I’m taking isolation fairly seriously and keeping my distance. As I noted, I felt a bit off physically on the ride there, for a brief time, but the cooler ride home was more enjoyable.

Maybe I just felt less stressed having copied the files rather than wondering how my little project would go. Then again, nothing against work, but the ride home is almost always more pleasant than the ride to work. I guess one factor, which was not really the case last night, is that I'm almost always hurrying on my morning bicycle commute, and can ease off and relax more on the way home. So it goes.

Campus was very quiet. The library, where the computer resides with the student newspaper files I was coming for, was closed, but I have the card to get in. I came, I copied and then I left.

Tuesday night's ride was a very slow ride, but a ride nonetheless. We’ll have rain in Iowa off and on for the next few days and a spoke is broken on my bad-weather bike, and I am taking a lot of time to do the teaching thing. I’m not sure when the next ride will be.

End of the ride computer summary. I always start and stop in my driveway, why do the feet climbed and feet descended always vary?

I am not sure when the next anything will be. I miss meals out, movie theaters,bicycle rides with family and friends. I felt very weird leaving the library at the university. When will I see the newspaper office again? When will it be filled with music and cookies and students laughing and arguing and working?

It will be, again. This storm will pass. That’s what six decades of experience says. Ride safely, my friends, I hope you stay healthy. And I hope you enjoy every ride you’re blessed to be able to experience.

In Which My Feet Disagree with a Shoe Choice

Left my helmet and pants holders on campus--so improvise. I start the ride wearing my old helmet (above) and rubber bands (below).

First day back in Iowa: Although I go to bed early last night, I slept as if I was still on West Coast time, arising promptly at the early hour of 9 a.m. (which would have been 7 in San Francisco).

Unfortunately, nobody brought me a warm and cute baby to snuggle with for a while in the morning, nor did they make coffee for me, so I had to make my own coffee and skip the snuggles. Miss you, Jon Coffee Maker, Lucas Snuggler (and you too, Nalena Kind Mother and Maker of Delicious Breakfasts). Both Jon and Nalena had turns as the Giver of the Baby, but the baby was always Lucas, who was a sweet little cutie. As a grandfather, of course, I’m a totally unbiased source.

Anyway, this morning I worked for several hours, had lunch, worked some more, and decided, around 2, to take a break. To nap or to ride? It was windy and in the 30s.

I decided, despite the wind, to ride. Lets just say, thanks to my son's and daughter-in-law's and wife's cooking abilities, on display during the West Coast trip, that my weight didn't drop in the past week and leave my motivations at that. It would be too warm with long underwear, but too cold without it, so I compromised by wearing PJ pants under my blue jeans, and two pairs of socks. (I hope that is not TMI, and yes, I was wearing other stuff, too).

I left my hybrid bike on campus during my recent trip to the Bay Area, so I got the road bike out and headed over to the Cedar River Trail.

I circled Cedar Lake, and felt pretty lucky. I saw two young eagles hanging out. Siblings? Teens on a first date? I don’t know, but it was cool to see two such birds.

A bunch of eagle pictures and some others down at the lake. Why not?

When I got to campus, I went to the library to get my bike shoes. I worried, a bit, because I know from experience that the bike shoes are not very warm, but I figured, what the heck? And I took my other shoes with me on the rack of the bike, so if the toes got too cold, I could swap back.

If you saw a crazy old man laying in the wet grass near Basile Hall this afternoon at MMU (and you probably did not, it was pretty quiet on campus although two random pedestrians did pass by), it was me, making images of these flowers between Basile Hall and Warde Hall. Legit to put on bike blog--I had ridden to this site and bike was parked on sidewalk.

 On the way back home, I went north to South Troy Park in Robins. My feet were getting pretty cold, but I still was enjoying the ride. I had not planned to use up the bulk of the afternoon in a bike ride, but it was my first time on a bike seat in a week.

It felt good to be riding again. Not as good as a morning baby snuggle nor as warm, but good.

Headed north on trail, cardinal and robin in same frame by the side of the trail.

Traffic was lighter in Iowa, but lock down not as tight as West Coast yet--and Iowans are more dependent on their cars than mid-city dwellers. Traffic at 42nd Street on trail.

A bush buds by the trail in woodsy area of Hiawatha.

Change of fashion. New helmet, bike vest, picked up at newspaper office at MMU. Bike still parked there, since I could not ride two home.

Ride summary on computer.

It's after 5 and the weekend--trail is pretty empty, It's cold, but still it felt like lots less people were out, which is a good thing, I suppose.

Normally quite creek in Robins has some extra water in it.

Another view in Robins. Gray day, but it was still good to be out.

In Which 23 Miles Pass Quickly Lake on a Warm Day

Early during the Sunday ride--wind whipping a flag at a business on Blairs Ferry Road.

I rode a bit a bit on Saturday—taking a young grandson to two parks. The ride was deliberately short and slow—it was his first time doing much of a ride on a ride-on seat behind the bike, and we were taking it easy.

He did well, and enjoyed the ride and the parks.

It was a bit breezy Saturday, but the weather was warming this weekend. The forecast for Sunday was temperatures in the 60s, easily the warmest day of the year so far—but the bright March sun was too strong and we reached 70 in the afternoon.

We walked to the park with grandchildren late in the morning, and fed them lunch. In the afternoon, their mothers picked them up, and I was ready for a bicycle ride.

It was 5 p.m., and I decided to ride as far south as I could for about an hour, and head back before it got full dark. The one up side of the time change is that it’s light not until about 7.

There were lots of runners and bikers on the Cedar River Trail. I rode down to Tait Cummins Park. I stopped there, ate some nuts and rested for a few minutes. The late afternoon light was fading, and a full moon rising.

First passing of Cedar Lake on the way south--choppy water. It was hard work riding into that wind.

Low sun over Cedar River.

View of rising moon as I take a break at Tait Cummins Park.

I thought this cardinal was very nice to wait patiently while I make his image several times before he took off.

On the way back, by Cedar Lake, I noticed a large animal swimming. A walker told me it’s a beaver he’s seen at the lake quite a bit.

The late afternoon light painted the clouds in shades of pink. I shot the moon several times, which I’m sure didn’t make the ride faster.

When all was done, it was close to 7:30, and rather dark, by the time I got home. Given the rain today, I was glad to get in that quick Sunday ride. More images of the moon, the lake and the return leg of the ride:

Train seen on my way home--it was handy because it was so long it blocked all of the downtown intersections, making for a faster than usual ride through downtown CR.

Moon again, this time near Cedar Lake. A testament to both man's capacity to generate electricity and watch the moon

At Cedar Lake, the moon and a goose. A testament to moons and geese?

The Loch Cedar monster.

Pretty light after sun goes down at Cedar Lake.

Circling Cedar Lake, looking over interstate at moon.

Pretty clouds of early evening.

At the end of the ride.

A few images from little camera. On the final circuit of Cedar Lake.

Collins Aerospace pond on C Avenue.