In Which Winter Biking Presents Minor Challenges

Dec. 6--After flat tyre was repaired, I ride bike home in the afternoon. Pretty light at Cedar Lake.

Winter in Iowa: A warm November ended rather dramatically with a minor dusting of snow and the sudden shift to cold temperatures. Thanksgiving Day saw flurries in the morning, and the days after were cool.

But I’ve continued to roll across this planet, and I have enjoyed many rides. I have layers of clothes and warm boots that make riding possible in cold weather, although there have also been a couple of days where weather prevented my biking. One Monday, snow fell, and I don’t ride in snow. There was also a day, the day after the snow fell, I think, where the morning windchill made the world feel like 9 degrees below zero Fahrenheit. I used to say my threshold to stop biking was zero, although I think these days it may be 10 above. It’s certainly far above 9 below.

So, sometimes I don’t ride due to weather.

Dec. 2--Snow fell today so I drove. Bike rack where I usually park--no bide today!

And then there have been a few other mishaps, too. On Friday, Dec. 6, I started my ride to work on a cold morning, but I was fully bundled up. About 1.5 miles into the ride, I felt a feeling no biker wants—the bike was suddenly a bit wobbly and sluggish. I stopped and felt the tyres—yup, the front was very mushy. Clearly, it was losing air.

On long summer rides, I bring a spare tube on my road bike, but I wasn’t carrying one this day—and frankly it takes me so long to change a flat that it would have been a real pain on a ride to work. I do carry a pump and tried pumping it up, but it lost air again quickly—clearly, there was a puncture. And I was about 2 miles from work.

I was lucky to be bundled up as well as I was, and also that I was wearing winter boots. That was a much longer walk than I was used to, but at least my boots are better than biking shoes for a very long stroll.

I was a few minutes late to class that morning, which I hate, but I made it. I messaged my wife, and that afternoon she drove to campus to give me a ride home. We put the bike in the van and decided we might enjoy a late lunch together, so we drove down to New Bo, where I wheeled the bike over to Goldfinch Cyclery. They were willing to sell me two tubes, but suggested they could install one for $10—a very cheap labor cost to have any competent bike mechanic touch your vehicle, so I said “sure.”

My wife and I browsed a bit as the mechanic worked. I had lost a leg band the day before (minor mishaps is my theme on this post) and picked up some new ones. We paid for the repair, the two tubes and the leg bands, locked the bike in the van and went to NewBo Market for a nice lunch.

And then I rode my bike home, late in the afternoon. It was a pretty afternoon, temperature in the 40s, which makes it fairly warm. So the morning flat didn’t spoil the afternoon ride.

And Saturday, Dec. 7, I was planning a trip to see a musical at TCR with my wife, one of my daughters and a grandson, but I had a bit of time for a morning ride. Today was to be a particularly warm day, but I thought it was cold enough in the morning that the mountain bike trails off of the Boyson Road trail might be ridable, so I got the trusty old mountain bike The Fancy Beast out.

Dec. 7--Warn Saturday sun on Boyson Road Trail.

And the trail was slightly mushy at parts, but in general, the plan was OK. Except, when I took the more difficult of the two trails, there came a point where I startled a buck and stopped to take its picture. And when I got on the bike again, well, I couldn’t tell the trail from the deer paths through the woods, and I got quickly lost in the woods.

Minor mishaps, right? I don’t recommend deer paths for bike rides, by the way—I inadvertently ran that experiment and don’t recommend. But the track I followed led me back to the other bike trail, one that is both easier and more defined (I think because it gets more traffic).

Luckily, no further mishaps and no flats. The rest of the ride went well as the day warmed up. The past three days have been a return to warmer than usual weather, although a big chill is expected this week.

All in all, despite a few bumps in the road, winter riding in Iowa this year has been pretty good. As of Dec. 9, I have 65.49 miles for the month and 2,224.59 miles for the year—closing in on 3,000. In November, I rolled 184.89 miles.

In Which I Ride a Few Windy, Unrecorded Miles

Setting out--no mittens, no coat. It was nearly 50 degrees (U.S. degrees, that is sweatshirt weather).

Winter came back to Iowa today. However, rain that had been in the forecast for today did not materialize by midday, and although it got very windy, it was also quite warm.

As I write this, it is 14 degrees with a wind that creates a wind chill of minus 6 (that, by the way for non-U.S. readers, is Fahrenheit, in your world, that’s an actual temperature of minus 10). But I am seated in my family room with slippers on and a heater blowing on me.

At around noon, I had finished some morning chores and decided to take a quick spin before the cold front blew through. It was grey, windy and cloudy, with a chance of rain. Because of that, and because I was thinking of riding on a limestone trail, I decided to take the Fancy Beast, my old mountain bike.

Riding up C Avenue meant dealing with the actual and the wind hill at the same time. Still, I didn’t have to wear winter coat nor mittens, and bike control, even with my left index finger in a splint, was easier today. Having one immobile finger complicates shifting gears less when the fingers aren't all together in a mitten.

As I rode up C Avenue, I felt some droplets in the air and worried the ride would be very short, but the sky started to clear a bit when I got to the Lindale Trail and turned east onto the trail. The wind from the southwest that had been fighting me became my ally, and I flew along.

Lindale Trail. Not sure it was the best day for a spin--tree branch blown onto trail.

I rode through a Marion neighborhood to the short side trail west of the Boyson Trail. Because it has been dry for several days, I was hoping the trail would be semi dry—my original plan was to ride this trail, plus part of the Boyson Trail, and end up retuning home down the Lindale Trail again.

Well, you know about the best laid plans of mice, men and over-optimistic bikers. The trail was a mushy mess, and I felt a bit guilty adding some ruts. It would have been impassible on the hybrid, so at least I had a bike that I managed to slog through the mire on. At times, I rode on the grass beside the trail, which was firmer than the trail, but there were many spots where passage required the soft trail ride.

Back tyre and the rut in the trail it made. Sorry about that. Trail should freeze hard tonight and may be more ride-able tomorrow, although also much colder. By the way, it's my style to use the UK spelling of tyre on this blog because the American spelling just looks tired, and the Brits invented this kind of tyre so should be able to name it.

Well, I made it. And when I got to Boyson Road, I decided my trail time was done. So I rode west on the Boyson Road bike lane and turned into the residential area north of the road.

I used the crosswalk to Huntington Ridge Park on C Avenue, circled the park and then headed home.

By the time I got to the park, sunshine was coyly peaking out through holes in the clouds. However, the wind did not let up, and I think the temperature was starting to fall.

Still, the ride home from the park was fine, even if it was into the chilly wind. I don’t have a holder for the GPS computer on the mountain bike, so I just rode these miles unrecorded.

Which is OK, I think. Pedaling is the point, and before winter crashed into town this evening, I got a few miles in. Probably 4 to 5.

The Fancy Beast at Huntington Ridge Park on C Avenue as we get a bit of midday sun. You can tell I planned only a short ride--no water bottle.

In Which I Contemplate Snow on the Ride

A dusting of snow on C Avenue sidewalk Wednesday morning. It turns out (below) I was not the only biker.

On C Avenue Thursday morning looking back at sidewalk between me and Collins Road. CR Biker is not amused.

I took a quick ride Tuesday afternoon, assuming it would be the last ride of the week.

As it turned out, the snow Tuesday night was no more than a very light dusting. And so Wednesday morning, I donned the warm underwear and snow boots and wheeled out the mountain bike.

For the most part, while I had to be a bit careful, the ride was not eventful. Except at the corner of C Avenue and Collins Road. A sidewalk was installed on C Avenue there, and the office complex there has not learned to clear snow.

I had to walk the bike for about half a block. Otherwise, the ride was cool but uneventful.

Friday the snow apocalypse was scheduled for the afternoon. So in the morning, I needed to go out to get some gas for my snow blower, and took the hybrid bike because I could strap the gas can to the back rack.

And I rode the Lindale and a part of the Boyson Trail. It was quiet and cool.

Frozen and bumpy trail. But nevertheless I persisted.

This one is for you, Cate Sheller. A testament to man's ability to generate electricity.

View from bridge on Boyson Trail, and then I turned around and went up to Boyson Road, rode on bike lane to Casey's and got some gas. Ready for the snow, snow blower willing.

I had to go to campus then, and drove, expecting that snow would be falling the in afternoon when I came home. I was wrong, the snow was late, but whatever.

I got two rides in for the past two days, and three in for the week. During the winter, that’s not bad.

The snow has finally arrived and is piling up outside—it’s not clear when I will be able to ride again.

All in all, it was a nice biking week. But business at the corner of C and Collins? Shovel your walk.

In Which I Mostly Agree with a Bike Critic

Two view of the new Boyson Trail bridge shot June 7. The detour signs are still up, but I can't see why. The biker below, by the way, is a random stranger.

I was thinking of doing a ride to Cedar Lake this morning. Rather than go to the gym (it’s stuffy there, my wife had said), I decided that this cool morning deserved a more extended bike ride. So I started off doing 3 climbs of the Brentwood Drive hill, and then started to go south on C Avenue.

But, I realized I did not have my cell phone with me—I had started to pack for the gym this morning before my plans changed. And so I stopped at home again to grab the phone. As you know from recent posts, I’m a fan of having a phone on a bike ride.

And I was oriented the other way. Well, why not do climb number 4 and then head out to Marion?

So, I did. I thought maybe Boyson would be rough to cross this morning (it wasn’t, since it was about 7 a.m. and traffic hadn’t really picked up yet) and I was going to take the Geode bike boulevard out to Tower Terrace and the Lowe Park Trail.

The Lowe Park Trail walkers don’t seem used to bikes. Unlike the Cedar River Trail, for example, where bicycle traffic predominates and pedestrians tend to walk on the right, at Lowe Park they meander all over as if there were not bikes in the universe.

East end of Lowe Park trail--where natural prairie planting meets mowed grass. More of the stuff on the left and less of the boring stuff on the right, please. Yes, I know a park does need mowed lawns for outdoor recreation, and I don't mean eliminate all mowing, but there seemed an excess of mowed grassy areas where I rode this morning.

So, naturally I shouted at people that “this is a bike trail” and almost ran them down. Because that’s what we biker do.

No, no, no. I slowed, sounded a verbal warning, and tried to pass them safely. On a shared-use trail, the primarily safety responsibility is with the faster, heavier vehicle, and CR Biker, slow though he is, qualifies on both counts.

I was a little perturbed by a column in this morning’s Gazette, another anti-biker diatribe. But, read it and weep. She’s largely correct. Mr. Fat Tire on the Bridge of Lions was totally off base—there isn't (nor, in my mind, should there be) an exclusive bike trail in Cedar Rapids.

I would quibble on a few points. Mr. Fat Tire was using sidewalks on the Bridge of Lions, which bikers routinely do despite the share marks on the street there—for two reasons. One is habit—the trail has been around for many years and has used those walkways for years, the share marks are new this year, and most bikers aren’t used to the idea of riding in the street there. The other is more practical—there is no curb cut on the south end of the bridge for bikes to access and continue on the Cedar River Trail, which reinforces the bad habit of riding walkways on the bridge.

Still—yelling at walkers and proceeding at speed by them? Not cool, Mr. Fat Tire. CR Biker waggles his finger of shame at you.

Second quibble—the guest columnist says bikers should always walk their bikes if they have to use a sidewalk. Walking a bike is nowhere near as easy as walking without one, and it’s against a biker’s nature to walk if walking isn’t absolutely required by extreme conditions or the size of a crowd (think the town scrum on RAGBRAI). Telling bikers to walk a vehicle they by habit and inclination want to ride is to spit into the wind, a bit. However, if the street is bike friendly, I agree that bikers belong there—and when the street is not, a biker on the sidewalk very much has to be aware they are “borrowing” a place that is intended for walkers, and they should politely defer to walkers.

An additional point not made in her article—bikers always need to sound a polite verbal warning when passing a walker, because most bikes are so quiet you’re on top of a walker before they can hear you and react. No, “THIS IS A BIKE TRAIL” is not a polite verbal warning—I prefer an audible, loudly spoken but not shouted, “bike on your left.”

And most walkers seem to agree. I get a fair number of thanks in response.

Anyway, my blood boiled when I read the column. Not because a walker was complaining about bicycles—but because her complaint seems pretty valid. As a biker, I don’t appreciate my biking brothers or sisters giving us all a bad name. So once again, Mr. Fat Tire, CR Biker’s waggle of shame to you.

Back to this morning. I continued past the middle school and used the sidewalks (!) to ride to Echo Hill. In the middle school parking lot, a hot air balloon was being assembled—I wonder if they go it flying. Seemed a little breezy, to me. Anyway, I had to go slow to avoid running into a riding mower (no shouting nor pointless, unheard verbal warning, I just waited it out as a good biker should)—and that depressed me just a bit. The middle school grounds are surrounded by a vast sea of mowed grass, and that seems like an expensive waste, to me. Plant some milkweed and cone flowers, for goodness sake, and let flowers grow rather than mow.

Anyway, the ride was quite pleasant. I was later heading home and had done about 14 miles by the time I was near the Boyson Trail. What the heck, I thought. I had crossed the new Boyson Trail bridge Tuesday, so I knew despite the detour signs that it’s already open, and I liked the idea of getting in 20 miles.

Well, the second trail ride did the trick. I hit 20 miles. And didn’t yell at any walkers—because, frankly, I think that they should be welcome to use the trail, too.

Catalpa in bloom next to Boyson Trail at Thomas Park. At this time of year, I don't understand why every yard in Cedar Rapids doesn't have a Catalpa Tree--glad to say mine does, although it is young and has not yet bloomed. It is close to 6 feet tall, however, and I've seen Catalpa of its size start to flower, so maybe next spring ...

Two views from bridge at the south end of Boyson Trail. Two ducks on Indian Creek, and watching the sunrise from the bridge. A great day to bike, or walk, a trail!

In Which I Resist the Lure of a Bridge

Two views of new bridge on Boyson Trail June 4. I did not cross it yet, because I don't think the trail near the bridge is meant to be ridden on, yet.

I was taking a slightly indirect route to and from the gym this morning—rode about 6 miles in total, and climbed the Brentwood Drive hill three times—the east route, the west route and the Windsor route.

Anyway, on the way home from the gym, I decided to check on the bridge project that has closed part of the Boyson Trail.

As you can see, the sign says it’s still closed, but the trail appears to lead to the bridge. A pedestrian headed towards me, however, said the trail by the bridge was very soft, and someone had tossed some caution cones in the creek.

Well, that doesn’t seem very nice, especially when this project benefits trail users. I decided patience was called for, and rather than leave ruts from my road bike in the soft, unfinished trail surface, I used the detour.

Still, the new bridge looks very nice! I’m sure I’ll cross it soon. After the signs are down, however, and I would urge other bikers to resist the lure of a bridge, too.

In Which a Turkey Bastes Itself In Sand

Granddaughter who loves fishes is watching them from a bridge while I shoot a biking selfie, or usie. It may be a good thing she's watching her favorite animals--if she paid attention to the camera, her tongue would be out. Gave three grandchildren bike rides today. Maybe being tired after 33 miles is OK.

I worked again on the yard today, but only for a few hours in the morning. The day was mostly a family day—a granddaughter had stayed overnight, so there were pancakes to make in the morning. Then her family came over for lunch.

After lunch, I gave the youngest sibling in that clan a ride home on Francis, and then took the more northern, longer route that leads to the Boyson Trail on the bridge by the Marion High School football stadium to add up some miles.

There were some interesting scenes on the trail on my ride back home. On the side trail that leads to Menards, as I was heading back towards the Boyson Trail, I rounded a bend to find an odd sight. There is a place beside the trail where there had been a fair amount of erosion during spring rains, and the ditch beside the trail is filled with loose sand washed down from the hillside above. In that sandy area, a large turkey was apparently enjoying a warm afternoon sand bath. I stopped and photographed it. The turkey noted my presence and got up to walk away—in not a big hurry, I might add.

Well, a self-sand-basting turkey.

The turkey in the sand, above, and walking across the trail after it is bothered by a biker with a camera. People are so rude.

I also noted one of my favorite June flowers is in bloom—Catalpa are opening up. This showy tree with the huge heart-shaped leaves also produces nice sized, mostly white, pretty flowers. They seem to start flowering pretty early in life, as trees go. I have a tulip tree that is 30 feet tall and a maple that is 15 feet tall, neither of which bloomed this spring. But Catalpa seem to bloom by the time they hit about 8 feet. It gives me some hope for the 5-foot young Catalpa in my yard. Maybe next year?

Along Boyson Trail. Catalpa in bloom.

I went home, took a short nap, and then helped entertain two other grandkids who dropped by. I ended up giving one a ride to Culver’s in Hiawatha for supper, and then transported a child of the other clan home. I was a bit tired by the end of the day. I rode 33 miles. That could dishearten me a bit—a day of RAGBRAI can easily be double that—but then again, on a day of RAGBRAI I would not tote 20 bags of woods chips around and spread them in a new play area of my yard.

Which I did this morning before the bike rides. Plus, over half my miles featured passengers with me on Francis. So maybe 33 isn’t all that bad. And now, before bed, I must bathe my dirty biking body. In water, not sand.

In Which an Indifferent Deer Roams

These MMU students presented a research report on Monarch butterflies. It made me want to plan some milkweed on campus.

Hyacinth at Noelridge Park.

Today turned into a bike adventure day.

First of all, I attended a poster presentation event as part of Mount Mercy University’s “Scholarship Day.” One of the posters was about Monarch butterflies, and it got me thinking again about my “bikers for butterflies” concept.

I am taking part, I hope, in an MMU Bike Club ride tomorrow—I am still hoping to get the club to consider planting milkweed in a butterfly garden on campus as a service project, and maybe to get involved in an effort to plant milkweed along bike trails around Cedar Rapids and beyond.

Butterfly women, are you interested, too?

Crab apple at Cedar Lake.

I was on campus a bit later than usual because my wife began teaching a men’s health class, and I was her opening day guest speaker. My topic was the image of men in the media. I managed to use a Tom Petty music video to make a point. Or get to the point. Or roll another joint. You don’t know how it feels to be me.

Crab apple at Noelridge Park.

Anyway, it was getting on towards 7, with the sun low in the sky, as I straddled Francis and headed out. It was such a pretty, sunny late afternoon that I headed to the trail and went south, first, to ride around Cedar Lake. And there, just for your viewing pleasure, I snapped some photos.

Cedar Lake and moon.

Then I headed north, but before going directly home, I diverted to go down the Lindale Trail to the Boyson Trail—my aim was to get to the other side of the Bowman Woods hill so that I could ride up it for RAGBRAI training.

And I snapped a few more photos—sunset along the trail and a deer that, despite popping out of the woods as the sun slipped over the horizon, was still in enough light to be captured. It did not seem concerned by me or Francis—it was an indifferent deer, out for an early evening snack, which it enjoyed maybe 20 yards from me.

If it had a bike, I’m sure it would have ridden it. Because it was that nice of an early evening, a good time to spend on a bicycle.

Deer along Boyson Trai.

Sunset along Boyson Trail.

Noelridge Park crab apple.

In Which I Enjoy The First Rides of Fall

Me, first day of astronomical fall, temperature in the 40s, bike jacket on. As the week warmed up the jacked got stowed again. I won't mind wearing it, though. I like a cool bike ride.

Monday morning, the equinox: In climate terms, September is the first month of fall, but in astronomical terms, fall awaits the Earth’s balancing act that happens in the final half of the month.

It had been a cool month before this week, and the first morning of fall was the first one where 40-something temperatures drove me to find my winter bike jacket. It has been located, but was used just that day—because as the dry week stretched on, the post-equinox sun was still powerful enough to give us warm days.

And Thursday, on one of those warm days, I had the pleasure of riding the Boyson Trail area with my wife. It was a slightly buggy, but still extremely nice, ride. She would argue it was nicer for me because she went first and acted as my bug screen, which may have some truth in it.

Anyway, a gallery of what the Boyson Trail and associated side trails looks like a fine fall evening when we just have time (before I have to rush back to campus for a bell rehearsal) for a fantastic fall ride:

Cheating a bit with this one. MMU campus in the afternoon, my wife and I are enjoying scones, and we've just made the decision to go home and take a bike ride. It's too gorgeous outside to do otherwise. Rest of the images are all from the ride.

In Which Balloons Appear to Make The Ride Cooler

We three bikers. My wife on the phone with my older son, while my younger one threads the needle between her bike and Francis. "Pretty big needle," he said. I picked up the hawk feather in our backyard and decorated the son's headgear. You're welcome.

Balloons over a Marion cul-de-sac. It was that kind of evening.

We had a cool bike ride early Sunday evening—cool in the sense of “nice,” but, in the end, “cool” in the sense of “feels like September, eh?”

We had quite a day on Sunday—we celebrated a daughter’s birthday and hosted a party that included two families of grandchildren. The family gathering lasted until late in the afternoon, when we (my wife, son and I) decided that we could doctor up a pizza and watch a movie for supper, but first maybe go for a walk. I don’t recall if it was my son or my wife, although I think it was the wife, but someone said, “Well, how about a bike ride, instead?”

Well, why not? We three bikers headed north on Devonshire, aiming for the north end of the Boyson Road Trail. We took the connecting trail out to Menards and turned down a cul-de-sac to turn around. Then my wife’s phone, which I was carrying, rang. It was our son from Paraguay calling, so my wife stopped to chat for a few minutes.

Balloon passes overhead.

My younger son continued circling the cul-de-sac. I joined him. We both had a contest of sorts—not exactly a race, but we were both watching our speedometers to see how fast we were orbiting planet suburbia.

He was riding his older brother’s swanky road bike. If he were on the same type of bike as I, he would have been faster anyway, but the road bike just exaggerated things. He topped 20 mph while adding 3 miles to his ride circling in a small area. I reached, at most, 16 mph. That’s OK with me, I consider 16 mph pretty darn fast, especially in a tight circle.

The night was partly cloudy and cool. The light was starting to fail, but the sky still beautiful. Then, just to make it all even more magical, two hot air balloons passed directly overhead. On the way home, I ran with the lights on, and think I should get my wife some lights.

All that—a cool bike ride, and I got to chat with my oldest son who lives in Paraguay. A short evening bike ride can’t get a whole lot better. Oh, wait, it can. Then pizza washed down with Fat Tire while watching "The Man Who Knew Too Little." Sunday was a good night.

A closer view of son in orbit.

In Which The Trail Has Ruts But Can Be Ridden

Tree that blocks Lindale Trail in Cedar Rapids.

Trail was OK to ride, but a bit rough.  It will be better on a colder day.

End of the road.  Barrier is not actually on trail and I suppose I could have gotten through, but I decided to take the hint.

Temperature was in the 20s this afternoon--and a cold wind was blowing. But recent warm weather and melting snow has put some water in the creek.

CR Biker went on a bit of an unplanned expedition today. I was going to ride my bike to the gym, when the siren song of the Lindale Trail, which leads to the Boyson Road trail, sounded in my brain.

After all, yesterday, the Cedar River trail was clear. What if the Great Melt had cleared this unplowed limestone path? On the other hand, a limestone trail is best ridden only when dry—it’s otherwise mushy and messy. But a cold front is sweeping across Iowa today and the temperature was chilly by noon—when I was starting my ride.

Would the trail be both clear of snow and cold enough to not be mushy?

Well, yes and no.  The west end of the trail, the part in Cedar Rapids, was dry enough. Patches of rough ice remain and, with the imprint of shoes, made passage rough, but beyond the one downed tree that has blocked the trail for several weeks, it was OK.

I was concerned as I entered Marion and crossed Lindale. Where the Lindale Trail runs into the Boyson Trail, it goes down a hill that is usually the mushiest, worst part of the trail in wet weather.

And the hill partly lived up to its bad rep.  It was very rutted—but surprisingly dry. I decided to ride the full “trail loop” through Marion, figuring that if the worst part o f the trail was OK, the rest would be, too.

That was a flawed assumption.  As I drew near the Frisbee Golf course area, the small woodsy hill that the trail has turned out to be more covered in ice than the rest.  The hill was passable—but only a narrow part. Following the trail, the area farther south proved damp and soft, which was an unpleasant surprise.

It was very wet. I had been glad that the trail was so frozen that I was not adding to its unevenness, but I think I left some tracks here. I veered right, and the new trial that leads to the Menards area of town improved, a bit—until I went around a bend and say a sawhorse with a sign stating “trail closed,” and a lot of dirt and equipment. The wettest looking part of the trail was between me and the dirt, so I took the hint.

I went to gym and then headed home. I am not sure when I’ll be on the trail again, but probably when it is colder.  Colder weather will make this trail firm. As it was, I still had an unexpectedly nice, although slow and bumpy, ride.

A Bike Ride In the Dusk

Maple leaves with almost full moon in background.  Tree is near Indian Creek along bike trail in Marion.

My wife and one of my daughters were ready to do some shopping, and suggested I might want to go on a bike ride.

Well, they were right.  It was a beautiful fall late afternoon, just after 6, the warm air of the evening getting its first twilight chill.  It was light enough to ride and take some photos, but late enough for that special autumn evening air.  Summer air, to me, can seem “used,” when it’s hot and humid.  It feels like it’s been exhaled by some large, unpleasant mammal before you event get to breath it in.  Crisp fall evening air feels fresh and new.

Ivy along new bike trail linking Cedar Rapids and Marion glows in late afternoon setting sun.

There are still some night sounds, a few die-hard crickets chirping in the woods, but since we’ve had a couple of freezing nights, the insect noises have died down.  It was quiet and comfortable as I rode along, stopping now and then to snap some fall photos.

I rode south along C Avenue to the trial that runs behind Walgreens.  There are some “road work ahead” signs posted, and the primitive trail in Cedar Rapids has been cleared of brush.  One suspects that the city is finally going to do some limestone resurfacing to match the already completed trail in Marion.

Hawthorne in Marion park near trail.  Leaves are not yet turning, but fall berries are pretty.

I rode to the Marion trail, then did the southern loop through the Frisbee golf course, back over by Menards, along a few quiet streets, through a city park and then back home via the trail and C Avenue again.

What a ride!  I needed my lights, but I enjoyed myself, and I hope you enjoy seeing some of what I saw.