In Which Wood Beasts Don’t Eat CR Biker

I am not certain that there isn't still an undiscovered additional leg, but this is the known end of the Grant Wood Trail, after 3 miles or so of grass. Take that, The Man! I will park the Fancy Beast where I want.

I have, along with my wife, been caring for a grandson full-time this summer. It’s a pandemic thing.

This week, the little rascal has a morning gymnastics camp—which allows me to A) Try to get the mountain of waiting summer work done and/or B) Ride a bicycle in the morning. Monday was a different day, with more grandkids around, and does not count. Tomorrow it should rain, so that’s a drive to the office morning.

Today was a bike day. And I originally planned, given the two-hour window I had, to ride the road bike in town. But Argent stayed locked up today, because the siren song of the Grant Wood Trial was too strong. It’s a modest trail, but fun to ride, and the final few miles are grass.

I rode a few yards of it on Clarence, the hybrid bike, and even took my road bike out there—and decided it was a trail for the mountain bike. And now I have the mountain bike.

So I unlocked the Fancy Beast and took off. I rode up to Boyson Road to the Boyson Trail.

And ran into the first unexpected problem. The Boyson Trail was closed. I ended up on a semi-busy street where I don’t usually ride, and it took some doing to chart the course across Marion to the Grant Wood Trail. The good news is that I did feel I was doing well on speed, again only going about 10 mph, but it was a good pace on the mountain bike.

Oh dear! I took the right fork which leads to a parking lot and busy street I don't usually ride along. I did today.

There were some clouds in the sky and it was humid, but it was still a nice day to be out on a ride. I stopped at Waldo Rock Park to water up—but there is no water at that park. But I left the house with a full bottle, and even if I had packed half of it away, I was not too worried. And, foreshadowing, I did empty the bottle on the ride, but only a few blocks from home. Water was not an issue, although there was another issue.

I rode on. The trail was quiet. I had a mask, but suffered severe fogging problems, and the trail was pretty isolated, so I rode with my face bare to the world.

I passed the T intersection where the limestone trail ended, and then proceeded down the gravel road to the paved county highway that leads, after a mile or so, to the next leg of the Grant Wood Trail.

The grass leg. I continued east. Given my speed and the distance, it was clear I would not be done by noon (when gymnastics camp was over), but my wife had already told me it was OK to go a bit over on time.

Most of the Grant Wood grassy leg is shady woodland, but there are a few open parts like this.

Another image at the east end of the trail--just on the other side of the gate.

I enjoyed the ride. It was bumpy when I got to the grass, and recent weather means it was a bit muddy here and there, but The Fancy Beast was in its element, and it was not a problem. I liked the shady, forested route—but I did notice that Linn County residents were getting a bit hostile. Along this leg of the trail, the “no trespassing” signs were more common.

Well, whatever, it wasn’t in my plan to trespass anyway.

I came to a paved bridge over Simmons Creed, and shortly thereafter to the apparent end of the trail. The grass leg was maybe 3 miles or so. My speed had dropped on this surface, but not too badly, and it was OK riding it on the mountain bike.

The incident took place on the ride back. Just after I crossed Simmons Creek, even before I got back on the bike after snapping an image on the bridge, two large dogs bounded out of the woods to my left. They were big, they were hostile, they looked like they were ready to taste some CR Biker.

The one bridge on the grassy leg--Simmons Creek crossing.

CR Biker bridge selfie with bike. What is that sound I hear? Do I look like a meal? Probably several.

I used to carry a frame pump on this bike, but didn’t have it. Then again, I don't know that beating off the hounds of hell with a frame pump would work all that well. I will admit I was a bit worried. On the other hand, while I don’t care for hostile canines, I don’t have a particular fear of dogs, either, and thought that if I acted calm and in control, these nasty brutes would be more likely to threaten than attack.

Luckily, I was right. I walked towards them, standing erect, not looking directly at them, talking to them in a commanding, but not angry, voice. I said something like, “Hey, calm down, it’s OK, I won’t bother you.”

I’m not sure what I would have done if one had lunged for me. Fortunately, I did not have to find out. I got past the more hostile of the two, and mounted again. As soon as I started riding, the dog renewed his objections to my presence, but rather than speed up (over distance I could outrun a dog, but I’m pretty sure a dog this size could out accelerate me in a sprint), I slowed down, stayed mounted, and tried the commanding voice again, which seemed to do the trick. After 10 yards or so, the hostile dogs retired. They both had collars on, so these weren’t strays, but the welcome wagon from some neighbor of the trail.

Well, so be it. The trail is nice. Would I try it again? Probably. I did not like the dog encounter, but was not too freaked out by it, either.

About half a mile headed west on the trail, I met a woman walking the other way (towards the bridge), with here two leashed and well-behaved dogs. I warned her that there were some hostile hounds on the loose ahead, and she said she was turning back. “Darn,” she said. “I usually carry mace but all I have today is bug spray.”

I’m not sure I would have proceeded with two dogs in tow even with mace—confrontations are best avoided. Still, I would have felt better with some bear spray or something during my canine encounter.

I rode back to town. Despite the doggie incident, I was in a good mood. It was a nice day and a satisfying ride.

We had storms recently, and I was hoping that the Boyson Trail was closed for downed tree removal, which may have been completed while I rode. My hopes were dashed when I reached Thomas Park and there was another trial closed sign, and I again had to backtrack and find another way home, this time riding a sidewalk on Blairs Ferry Road until I could turn and hook up with the Lindale Trail.

On the way home, the other end of the closed trail--which includes its intersection with the Lindale Trail, my target. I exited Thomas Park and used the crosswalk by McDonald's to get on a sidewalk along side Blair's Ferry Road.

Whatever. It was 1 p.m. when I got home from an almost 25-mile ride on The Fancy Beast. And now I can say that I’ve done the Grant Wood thing, and that it’s a nice trail to the end. On a mountain bike. Except for dogs.