In Which I Celebrate With 25 Miles

Two scenes from the Cedar River Trail--newly paved stretch north of J Avenue (above), view of Cedar Lake from east bank (below).

I know some bikers “ride their birthday” when they get to an advanced age—doing 60 miles when they turn 60, for example. Maybe sometime this fall I’ll ride 62 miles in honor of my 62nd birthday, but I didn’t have the time to invest in that long ride Sunday.

My birthday. I decided to check out the Cedar River Trail in Cedar Rapids. I didn’t have high hopes—but was pleasantly surprised.

The road there was a dicey. I usually use a sidewalk on Council Street to get from the neighborhood north of Boyson Road to the street I take over to Hiawatha to join the trail—but south of Boyson Road, the sidewalk was blocked by piles of storm debris.

I don’t usually ride in streets with 4 lanes and speed limits of 35 mph, but I did Sunday. The afternoon traffic was fairly light, the drivers weren’t in an ornery mood, and the transit to the westbound street was fine.

And the trail! When I got there, it was clear that city crews have been busy. There was plenty of downed trees visible, but the ones that had crossed the trail were cut and moved. I had basically no obstacle headed south from Hiawatha.

Crossing bridge over rail track between Blair's Ferry Road and Collins Road. Trail is clear, but you can see a lot of debris blew onto bridge.

End of the south ride--not far from Federal Courthouse, Cedar River Trail is closed.

North of Hiawatha parking lot, Cedar River Trail becomes Cedar Valley Nature Trail. Sister reported it's clear all the way to Center Point.

Along the way, I met a couple form the neighborhood, and exchanged pleasantries while we crossed downtown. The First Avenue crossing is kind of messed up, but that’s from a street project that has no storm connection.

As we neared the Federal Courthouse, Mike and Laura veered off towards New Bo. Mike indicated the trail might be blocked soon, and I probably should have heeded him, but I considered this birthday ride a trail inspection, so I continued behind the courthouse.

And the nature of the trail quickly changed. Branches hanging over it. Several places where one lane was open. And then, a few hundred yards east of the courthouse—total blockage.

Well, I had ridden more than 10 miles from my house on a trail that I didn’t expect to be open at all—including circling Cedar Lake, something I did not expect to be able to do, so my mood when I reached the blockage was “well, that’s too bad. But, kudos city, on clearing miles of trail to this point.” I think I would have appreciated some signage warning of the block, but then again, I think city employees have many, many higher priorities than marking temporary trail detours.

Trail is open, but plenty of downed trees near Cedar Lake.

 

I turned north. My goal was to reach over 20 miles on this afternoon ride, and I was going to have no trouble reaching that.

When I got to my turnoff at Hiawatha, however, I decided to continue north. And just north of Boyson Road, a familiar looking trike was headed south. Hmm, I thought, that trike has a flag that looks like my sister’s flag. That triker has a yellow shirt on—the same color as a “Team Joe” shirt. And when she passed me by, that triker yelled a greeting in a voice that sounded suspiciously sisterly.

All of my siblings—all of them sisters—speak in suspiciously sisterly voices. I’m not sure they trust me.

Anyway, I stopped and turned around and rode like the wind (if the wind is old, obese and slow). She’s a fast triker and her pace far outdoes your correspondent, but I did it. When she paused at Boyson Road, I was right behind her, and we amiably chatted for a few minutes. She was headed home, and I was ready to do the same, so I said I would tag along with her.

I was hoping she knew an alternative to the Council Street sidewalk. As it turned out, she had not begun her ride from her house and was not aware of how bad that sidewalk was, so the best laid plans and all that. Anyway, we ended up crossing Council, the east sidewalk was more passable.

When I got home, I discovered an old-man moment. I am a little paranoid about going outside—even if I’m just emptying the recycling bin from the kitchen, I try to grab my keys first. My fear is that I will lock myself outside. Well, on my 62nd birthday, I had left home on a more than 20-mile ride. Without keys in my pocket.

Today's bike, Clarence, the hybrid.

Like the Cedar River Trail, the Lindale Trail is now fairly clear.

Lindale Trail--signs of storm damage, bur trail is open.

The "short" Boyson Trail. Cleanup has a ways to go but is clearly in progress.

Heading east along Boyson Road into late afternoon sun.

 

Meanwhile, my wife left home on a walk. Fortunately, with keys or we both would have been locked out. I messaged her, and she said she was on the “short” Boyson trail. Which was pretty clear, but I didn’t interpret it correctly and biked off to the Lindale Trail. A sort trial that leads to the Boyson Trail, but not the short Boyson Trail. After a while, my wife noted that she was turning back on Boyson Road, and I was like a Billie Eilish lyric. Duh. So I rode to the short trail, which was in pretty poor shape still, but I made it thorugh.

So, two rides that totaled 25 miles or so—not bad, I think, on my 62nd birthday. Now, where are my keys?

The afternoon was as pleasant as an Iowa afternoon in late August can be. It was warm, but definitely not hot. The trees, those left standing, look tired and dry, we could use some rain to break this drought, although I’m sure all the tarp-using homeowners don’t mind the bout of dry weather we’re in.

I had a nice biker birthday. My breakfast and lunch were special feasts with family, which was why I didn’t spend the whole day in the saddle and aspire to riding my birthday. Later, I saw on Facebook that Mike and Laura had punctured their tyres on the ride, and luckily I didn’t get any flats.

In Which the Week Finishes with Hot Rides

Cupola of Warde Hall on sunny Thursday afternoon, seen from street as I ride my mountain bike home.

The heat has finally broken in Iowa, but due to family things, I didn’t get a ride today, the first nice, cool day. Tomorrow is my birthday. I hope to celebrate with at least a 15- to 20-mile ride.

My most recent rides were Wednesday and Thursday, both hot days.

I contacted the city Wednesday to complain about city debris trucks dropping branches, and received a nice reply with a promise to try better, which I hope helps keep us all safe. I had a near miss when a truck passed me, and dropped a branch not far enough away to make me comfortable.

As you can see from Wednesday’s pictures, there is a huge mess still to clean up here after the Aug. 10 derecho super thunderstorm:

Seen across the street from MMU campus--house that was wrecked in storm.

Streets are narrower. Fortunately, I know the quiet ones to ride.

Street that should lead out of a neighborhood to C Avenue does not. Person on corner made a warning sign.

Some people lost so much. A burned spot between two houses where once there was another house.

I carry two cameras--one a wider angle point-and-shoot. Wider angle look at sign.

Tree debris left by passing trucks on C Avenue.

I am glad I was not crossing the C Avenue Bridge near my house when this rolled off of a truck! Another view below.

I thought I would take some different images Thursday. I rode my mountain bike—I just felt as many branches as I was encountering on the ride, I wanted the wider tyres. And, though my slowest right, in many ways it’s the most fun to ride.

I enjoyed some pretty views that day, not focusing so much on the destruction. Some pretty hosta flowers are in bloom by the bike rack at work, and I parked there.

And as I was leaving, made an image of a bee in one of the flowers. I then removed the bike, attempting to do so gently so as not to disturb the bee.

But I may have. Suddenly, I have a nasty swollen area on the right side of my face, which has gotten very sore the past two days. I didn’t feel a sting at the time—but I think I may have one anyway.

No matter. My face is starting to heal, faster than the campus or the city, I’m sure. But we’ll all heal. And biking helps. A few Thursday images:

I am getting ready to leave campus, bee visiting hosta by my bike. I think it may have got me, should have waited a few more minutes.

Parking bike on Thursday.

Passing trucks clearing brush on Mercy Drive, MMU campus, as I go to work Thursday morning.

Thursday's ride--the Fancy Beast mountain bike on the driveway.

In Which I Consider the Smell of Wood

Mid-morning commute on C Avenue, truck carting debris, utility truck at work.

 

Monday’s hot summer ride to work featured a hazy sky.

Not due to impending rain—hurricanes in the Gulf of Mexico are setting up dry weather in Iowa. Much of the state is in a slowly worsening drought, and gardens, grass and the surviving remains of trees are drying out.

At least we’re not on fire—yet. California is. 2020, right? The haze high in the atmosphere is from those California fires. As dry as it is here, I worry about the piles of drying wood along our streets which sure seems like they could fuel some magnificent blazes, but hopefully all that fuel will be moved out before rapid oxidation causes more problems.

Anyway, the ride today was a lot like my weekend ride—except even hotter. I’m getting used to the odd scenery of the ride, but I will like it when the city is done carting away all the storm debris.

Central campus MMU--not open to visitors yet, but debris is gone.

As I thought, when I rode to work, the central campus looks better than the edges—all that debris on the edge came from the middle.

I am still getting used to minor changes in my route due to Prairie Drive being closed for a block, I assume by wires that are hanging low. And I had a bit of a near miss when a debris-carrying truck dropped some limbs on C Avenue during my ride home.

One impression I had of the ride is the odd smell in the air. A bit of burning smell is in the Iowa air from the California ash, and that has happened before, but the smell of this ride was more than that. Cut wood, drying leaves, an odd high-summer intense taste of autumn is in the air. That and the almost constant buzz of saws in the background. Rides are a bit different now.

But the fall bike commuting has begun. I worked from home Tuesday, but most days this week will be back in the saddle of the hybrid biking, riding to campus.

On F Avenue, American flags planted on top of the wall of storm debris.

The truck that almost did me in. Riding home on C Avenue, passed by fast-moving DOT truck carrying storm debris. Happy the government is taking the debris--not quite as happy that they don't cover their loads. You can see large branch about to tumble off truck, what you don't see is that just a second ago, a big branch barely missed CR biker as he cycled along the sidewalk. Cedar Rapids--use some tarps on your trucks!

In Which I Ride the Narrows

Stump on lawn at Collins Aerospace on C Avenue. Large trees that were removed were painted with an L. Feeling sad for the loser trees.

Waiting for light to change at Collins Road. Raindrops pattern the sidewalk, first rain since the derecho storm. We only got a little.

First corner, Blair's Ferry and C Avenue. Off to the left, that open grassy area. It had many mature trees on it, all are gone now.

Riding south along C Avenue by Collins Aerospace. Near Collins Road--another empty lawn that used to have many mature shade trees.

It has been not quite a fortnight since the derecho storm blew through Cedar Rapids.

My first bike ride since then was a short tandem trip with a granddaughter. It’s been dry since the big storm, although there was a chance of some rain today. But, since wifi was down at my house and accessing work files would be difficult, on Saturday I decided to take a morning ride as my second post-derecho bicycle adventure.

My goal was to check out campus. Volunteers have been clearing the devastation there, and offices are to open Monday.

I started my journey south. The campus of Collins Aerospace is poignant to see—it was a pretty grassy area with mature trees, most of which were blown away by the 140-mile gusts of the derecho. It’s open and sunny now, and feels naked. Fortunately, the young trees recently planted in a line along C Avenue, although a few are leaning, largely survived.

After crossing Collins Road, I got to the place where C Avenue had a bike like. “Had,” although the lane is still there, just mostly buried under tree debris. That was not terribly surprising, and I planned to turn off C Avenue at the first intersection, rather than riding almost to the end of the bike lane, which in the past was my usual route.

Bike lane on C Avenue has disappeared under wall of cut branches.

Mail truck passes me along suddenly narrow C Avenue. I turned off as soon as I could.

The neighborhood I turned into was surreal. The storm was wildly inconsistent—it hit and damaged the entire area, but in some places it’s mostly downed trees, while in others roofs were damaged, sheds demolished—the winds of chance blew a bit more in places, and this neighborhood west of C Avenue featured the usual piles of debris stacked by the thereby narrowed roads, plus some wires still down and many roofs a patchwork of tarps. Today was the first that those tarps were important, as a few sprinkles came down.

And Mount Mercy University is in one of those hard-hit places, too. I was riding on familiar, quiet residential streets, but the ride was a still more than a bit eerie. The piles of former trees plus the more open skyline, the occasional downed wires—it’s still a revelation to move through this space, at once so familiar and so strange.

After turning off of C Avenue--the neighborhood of quiet streets and quiet devastation. Many trees down, those standing look shell-shocked and shorn of leaves.

Sure.

Another street scene I saw.

The space between houses is part of small neighborhood park, apparently used as a staging area for trucks.

 

 

No one will play in this park for a while. In fact, the city has closed all parks and said they are not even safe to walk across due to unstable trees.

A few unexpected turns on my route--some streets closed or filled with equipment.

I got to campus. Signs on the drives announced it was closed, and I could hear equipment moving. I know it will be open on Monday for work, and I decided it was best to satisfy my curiosity then. I rode partly around campus (a blocked street prevented a full circuit) and made some images from the edges.

I am betting a lot of cleanup has been done on central campus, and it will help a lot when the city can cart away the fences of felled wood, but at its edges of The Hill (local term for MMU campus) there is still a lot of reminders of the recent storm.

Unexpected detour of a few blocks.

Striving statue on MMU campus, seen from Prairie Drive.

Campus view, post derecho.

I decided it was best to obey the signs.

Not every tree in front of Warde Hall is down. Just most of them.

I paused here to pluck two drying hickory nuts off of the downed branches.

In our backyard after the storm, my 4-year-old grandson found some hickory nuts, although I don’t know where the nearest hickory tree is. He has planted some in his sandbox and in gardens, explaining that he hopes to grow “hickory dickory dock” trees.

At the end of the MMU campus, some drying hickory nuts were attached to fallen limbs laying by the street. I grabbed a couple. May as well try to see if I can get a hickory dickory dock tree out of this mess.

It was a somber 9-mile ride. The grey sky matched the mood. The sprinkles, which started early in the ride, held off, however, even as the sky darkened.

At Regis Middle School, people were clearing the lawn by the street. I wish that they had been wearing masks, although that would be hard to do such work on this warm, humid day. Yet I was glad to see them. It gave me some hope. Power is on back on campus, or so I’ve heard (I had no wifi this week, so I haven’t really seen any campus messages). We’re coming back. Slowly, it will be a long road back, but we’re coming back.

And then I rode back home. Longer and more pleasant rides are clearly a way off in the future. Here’s to those future bicycle rides.

Seen on my way home.

Nuts from campus.

On the way home I went up F Avenue to avoid C Avenue traffic. Just crossed Collins Road at F, entering Collins Aerospace bare lawn that used to be well shaded by mature trees.