In Which An Accent and Digits Betray Me

MMU campus, flowers by library. I'm pausing to photograph a garden on campus maintained by a librarian, who planted the tulips last fall.

It was a slightly breezy but warm and pleasant spring Saturday today in Iowa. I rode to the Mount Mercy University campus in the afternoon to do some work, and then headed south on the Cedar River Trail.

The trail was a bit busy, which was not a big surprise, but when I got to the south end of town, some sort of biking party seemed to be going on. A small city park there was crowded with people, and house backyards by the trail featured clusters of people who seemed to be sort of tailgating.

It was, to me, odd. I know people are tired of social distancing, but the virus doesn’t care, and Linn County, where I live, is a hot spot of infections. So, what were socializing crowds doing on or by the trail?

Crabapple seen on ride in downtown Cedar Rapids (more later on the way home, this is on the way south).

Sky on ride. Some sprinkles but no real rain.

I had planned to take a break in that park, but decided distancing would be a challenge there, so I rode on by into the countryside, and took my break at a more secluded bench, far from the crowd.

I think I’ll avoid that trail on weekends from now on. Having made it to May apparently virus free, I aspire to remain that way.

Bike parked at turnaround point a bit out of town on the Cedar River Trail--actually, the Hoover Trail, since we're out of town now.

View of Cedar River on the way home.

Anyway, the ride started with a slightly odd note. When I was riding up the hill on C Avenue near my house, I spotted a young woman who I though was pushing a baby carriage, but as I got closer, it turned out to be a tricycle with a handle attachment.

As I rode by, she said “hi,” in what I thought was a British accent. And her cute child had a very nice helmet, made to look like Nemo from the movie “Finding Nemo.”

Huh, I thought, my grandson has a helmet that looks just like that. I had no idea they were so popular. I said hello and continued on my ride.

Then, after the bike ride I got a text from my daughter. “How was your bike ride today, Mr. Joe? Did you recognize anyone along the way?”

One bridge over the river was closed, but the trail just detours to another bridge.

Lane on bridge where the detour is.

Because the child wasn’t just wearing a helmet like my grandson’s. It was his helmet because he was my grandson. And Ms. British accent didn’t really have a British accent, it’s just the way my own daughter’s voice sounded to me in the moment.

Well, I think I’ll just pop down to the pub for a pint or two or four. Except this is Iowa and there are no pubs and the bars are closed and I don’t want to go to the biker party on the south side with other virus petri dishes.

The ride also featured a bit of a traffic stop by Cedar Lake, were a group of geese with young here hogging the trail. One does not disturb geese with children in Iowa in spring—trust me on that. So, we—me and other random trail users—waited until the bird traffic cleared.

Waiting until the geese allow us to pass at Cedar Lake.

Goose traffic.

Not the same geese, these are south of the river and didn't block the trail.

Then, I rode down to the bench south of town, and paused to eat a bag of nuts. I was 15 miles from home, and it was past 5 p.m., so I decided to head back.

As I neared home, the odometer on my bike computer read 29.9 miles, so I rode down the street a little way before stopping so that it read an even 30 miles. And then when I downloaded the bike map from the linked phone app, it was actually only 29.98 miles, but since the bike computer only shows tenths, it was rounded to 30.

Well, shoot. Foiled by the digits—0.02 miles short. Not as big a calamity, I suppose, as riding obliviously by my own daughter and grandson.

Flowering trees along the trail in downtown Cedar Rapids seen on the way back north. Besides crabapples (above), redbuds (below) were also in bloom.