In Which I Climb Mountains and Fight Crime in a Haze

My son about to ride down Mount Trashmore mountain bike trail for the first time.

My hybrid bike parked on summit of Mount Trashmore.

I enjoyed my Sunday evening bicycle ride. I didn’t get on the road until fairly late—after 6—and on this first day of August, there was that August feel in the air. It’s still summer, and there is plenty of room for hot weather ahead, but there was something new in the air, a bit of a hint of cool. We are getting several weeks past solstice and the nights are starting to grow.

That’s not all that was in the air. I’m hoping my lungs were OK—there was a smokiness, courtesy of a woodland inferno on the West Coast.

It was a nice ride. I headed up C Avenue to the Lindale Trail, riding my road bike today. I had to be a little careful in a few spots—the limestone portions of trails have some rough areas—but most of the 20 miles I rode today were paved, and the limestone didn’t cause me any problems.

The Milwaukee Road bridge on the Lindale Trail, visited it at the start and end of the ride. This is at the start, sun low, but pretty late afternoon.

Bridge late in the ride, just past sunset.

Looking back from the end of the pavement late in the ride on the Lindale Trail.

I rode a side trail off of the Boyson Trail, a bit dicey in spots with road bike. Note ruts at soft spot--had to use the grass in places.

In the fading light, everything looks pretty, and despite the mostly invisible smoke in the air, it felt good to be out. I rode the Boyson Trail, including the newly opened (and still a bit rough) side trail. The full trail complex is now open, with a bit of limestone near Menards at the end of the trail.

After riding the Boyson Trail, I headed east along Boyson Road into Marion. I was aiming for the Lowe Park Trail, but along the way, I had my second exciting incident of the weekend when I unexpectedly became engaged in a chase that apprehended a runaway.

I was headed north on Geode, when on the opposite side of the street, I saw a white dog sprinting south, followed by a teenage boy about half a block back. The dog was outpacing the boy.

The dog turned at a corner, and I was worried it might make it to Boyson Road, a busy thoroughfare one hopes no canine attempts to cross on its own. I turned down the corner and gave chase. Meanwhile, a Jeep with more teens drove by, suddenly stopped, and a teen girl hopped out. She sprinted after said pooch.

My plans was simple, just get ahead of the dog, stop, and distract it. The plan more or less worked, I pulled onto the sidewalk about 20 yards ahead of the dog and began speaking with it. It stopped, a bit startled, and the girl gained on it. But before she could reach it, it doubled back, evaded her, and was off again. The chase continued.

Just as I was again catching up (and the girl, by the way, keeping pace, which is pretty impressive because I was probably riding at 18 mph or so), the dog came to a group of people and cars in a driveway, and decided to turn left, maybe to try to go between houses—but there was a dead end, due to a fence. “Aha!” the girl shouted. “Now I’ve got you!” She was yelling at the dog, not the old man on the bicycle, by the way. The dog clearly knew the girl, and sheepishly allowed itself to be picked up.

I never spoke to the girl nor the boys in the Jeep or the one running, but they sort of nodded an acknowledgement, and I proceeded with my ride. Lowe Park was nice, as usual.

My road bike parked at end of Lowe Park trail (near the art museum) as I pause to eat a bag of nuts and rest a minute.

Queen Anne's lace at sunset, seen on Lowe Park Trail.

Along Lowe Park Trail, sculptures as sun sinks in hazy sky.

It was the second day of some unexpected transgression excitement. On Saturday, my oldest son, visiting from San Francisco, and I decided to ride Mount Trashmore. One of my daughters was to meet us around noon, and a second daughter was coming over to pick up her son from us. They two daughters, along with the California daughter-in-law, decided to go to lunch at Lucky’s in Czech Village.

Jon, my son, and I rode down—me on my hybrid bike, he on the mountain bike (The Fancy Beast was originally his more than 10 years ago, it was a perk of an internship he did with Miscrosoft while in college, and eventually I inherited it from him via a son-in-law who used it for a while).

We left home around 1, and it was a warm, sunny afternoon. We made good time, and the family crowd (grandchildren, wife, children, in-law) had not been waiting too long. The lunch was good—I had a burger with jalapeno, guacamole, salsa and cheese which had been picked for me by a daughter and my wife. My wife asked if the feast for lunch (Jon and I also had beers) would slow us down—and I agreed that it would, but it would also give us more stamina.

And the climb of Mount Trashmore loomed ahead of us.

Well, afer lunch, we headed towards the manmade hill (Mount Trahsmore is named that because it’s a giant hill built by decades of the solid waste agency burying town trash). After check-in, it was time to ride up. Jon is a much more fit and faster rider than I am, and despite being on the older, heavier bike, he zoomed up the gravel road. I shifted into granny gear and moved at a more stately pace.

Last time, in June, when I rode Mount Trashmore, I had to stop on the way up and catch my breath for a while. Maybe it was the lighter bike, or maybe the Lucky lunch, or both (plus it was hotter on that June day), but I rode all the way to the top. It did take a lot of energy and I was winded when I reached the summit, but I was also fine.

Jon had been waiting at a shelter near the top, and rode up to the summit to meet me. The plan was for him to ride down the mountain trail, while I would make some images. Then, he would ride up again as I descended via the regular road, and I would make some images from below of his second ride down.

He owns a mountain bike and noted there are many longer trails he rides in California, but he was pleased with Mount Trashmore’s mountain bike trail.

Selfie with bike on top of Mount Trashmore. Followed by 9 images of my son on mountain bike trail:

 

 

OK, this is not on the Mountain Bike Trail--This is Jon riding back up after first trip as I head down. And one other image in the set above is not on the Mountain Bike Trail. Can you tell which one it is?

Me and my son at the bottom of Mount Trashmore after his second ride down.

Well, that was fun, and we expected it to be the most exciting part of the ride. But wait, there’s more.

We rode over to the new trial on the levee leading to the site where the Sleeping Giant Bridge is planned, and then headed back towards home on the Cedar River Trial. Along the way, Jon noticed someone under a bridge, putting together some wood and attempting to light it. And shortly after that, we passed a small fire, right beside the trail, burning unattended.

We rode on for a few yards and then stopped. That didn’t seem right. I called the police. We didn’t go back and try to put out the fire—it wasn’t doing much—but we were worried it could spread in the dry brush by the river.

Anyway, we continued on our way, but Jon spotted some police vehicles entering the Federal Courthouse parking lot (the blaze was a bit east of the courthouse), and a few blocks later, we noticed a fire vehicle, siren blaring, headed back in that direction. I don’t know for sure if the police and fire were responding to my call, in fact I can’t find a record of my call in the on-line log of calls the police department has, but we thought it was possible.

I did miss riding RAGBRAI this week. Besides the pandemic, which made me not comfortable with a huge crowd event, there is the visit by my son—I did not want to miss a week of visiting with him, his wife and one of my grandsons. So, it was nice to get in some rides, both over 20 miles, in this weekend.

And to fight crime and capture runaways.

Thursday, on a walk, by chance we meet Team Joe that rode part of RAGBRAI sans Joe. They are headed to my sister's house after a ride to Solon, a day off of RAGBRAI.

Two of my sisters and my brother-in-law. Team Joe.

I find that these trikers look a bit like a future space gang.