In Which Geese Break the Ice

Early in the ride today, sunshine in Hiawatha on Cedar River Trail.

Another warm winter ride today. I was going to campus to work on a winter term syllabus, and before heading over to work, I took some time to swing down to Cedar Lake, riding the Cedar River Trail.

The lake is partly frozen and geese and ducks where packed together in the open water at the lake’s north end. But other patches have opened, and the geese seemed to struggle to judge where to land or walk.

They would totter across the ice until it got so thin that it broke under a large bird’s weight. Since they are well-insulated water fowl who swim in ice water all the time, it wasn’t like a March sister breaking through the pond while skating.

Views of Cedar Lake on a relatively warm, sunny winter morning.

Still, they looked a little ridiculous.

I shot some images of the birds on the water, and then climbed the back way up the MMU hill by the library. I rode about 15 miles by the time I got home, and then took three granddaughters on three separate Tag-A-Long rides in the neighborhood late in the afternoon.

On two of the those rides, we checked out the pond on C Avenue at Collins Aerospace. The goldfish were inspected, especially swimming under thin ice by the bridge.

With the extra few miles, I get I probably rode a bit more than 18 on this day of ice and water rides.

C Avenue pond--late afternoonn sky reflection (above) fish below ice (below).

In Which the Cool Night Sky Honks at Me

Above and below--data from my Wahoo bike computer and linked phone app on today's ride.

We’ve had a run of warm weather this Christmas week, which is set to come to a temporary end as rain and winter temperatures are moving in. Saturday is supposed to feature a cool rain all day which may end with a bit of snow.

Today was cooler than it’s been for a while, but it was still much warmer than usual. My wife got me an electric leaf blower for Christmas. I had always been anti-blower—a rake is quiet and provides more exercise—but she was of the opinion that heart attacks are something I should avoid, and I guess I kind of go along with that sentiment.

Anyway, starting about 11 a.m., we spent the middle of the day “raking” the backyard with the new blower. In about 3 hours, we got it done. She actually did most of the blowing while I used our yardy cart to transport leaf piles to the woods behind our fence.

The main thing is we got the job done in about 3 hours. I have to admit, it would have been a much longer job with strictly rake power, and while I still wielded rakes and lifted a lot of leaves, I don’t think it was nearly as physically taxing. with the aid of the blower.

Still, we both, after a quick lunch, took longish naps—I went to sleep a bit after 2 and didn’t wake up until 4 p.m.

My plan all along was to take a bike ride today. I went in the backyard to retrieve a jacket I had left there earlier when the chores of the day had warmed me up. By after 4, it was notably cooler. I next wheeled my road bike out of the garage, lit the lights (it was getting to be nearly sundown) and headed out towards the Lowe Park Trail.

Along the way, I made some images. There are three great spots to watch the sunset that I know of. One is the campus of MMU, which features a central green space overlooking woodsy hills, which has a nice view of the afternoon sky. But the best local sunset spot, in my opinion, is Cedar Lake, where one can look west from the east shore and enjoy the sunset sky reflected in the water. Well, not when the water is all frozen, but it’s still a good sunset watching place.

And the other great spot is Lowe Park, which features expanses of flat land that display a pretty sky very nicely.

Christmas lights on fence seen on the way to Lowe Park. These are either on Geode or Third  Street (Geode becomes Third Street when it crosses 29th Avenue in Marion).

On this short, late bike ride, I took my good camera, planning to make images of the pretty sky of Lowe Park. I was entertained by flying flocks of geese--at one point, two flocks intersected and intermingled in some twilight flight of theirs, making quite a noise. It was a pretty ride in which the sky was often honking at me.

And the sky did not disappoint. I’ll up a whole bunch of images after these words.

Seen on Tower Terrace Road on ride to Lowe Park.

The trail at Lowe Park might be a bit dicey to ride in the dark. I was a bit concerned, because of two significant dips I knew of, and I didn’t particularly want to hit them while flying along at 12 mph or more. Turns out, both of the dips have been recently repaired and the trail was actually quite nice, even in fading light. Good on you, city of Marion.

More images from the pretty sunset and post-sunset ride, starting with a pond on Irish Drive and then going on to the sky at Lowe Park. These are in time order, so you will note the sky getting darker. The final image is on the way home from the Trail along Geode, Christmas lights and Venus:

In Which H is for Harrowing

Looking south from north bridge on Cedar Lake. Very pretty day--peaceful, once I finally made my way to the trail.

Linn County Trail Association map.
Part of my route along H Avenue.

It was such a sunny, nice afternoon, and I have a mountain of work to do, but I really, really wanted to get a few extra bicycle miles in today, which meant I really, really wanted to ride the Cedar River Trail home rather than taking my shorter street route.

But, J Avenue, the usual route from Mount Mercy University to the trail, is closed by a street project. I noticed, in the UK, by the way, that when they tear up a street and sidewalk, they actually provide a sidewalk detour—something to consider, CR, rather than just blaring “sidewalk closed.” Back to my story. What the H, I figured—they probably wouldn’t close a busy street with an interstate exchange like H Avenue. I’ll just ride along the east edge of Daniels Park, turn right at H and end up at Cedar Lake. It will be a piece of cake.

And, honestly, although as is my right I will whine some soon, it wasn’t bad. I am amused by the “CEMAR Trail” signs that seem arbitrary in the Daniel’s Park neighborhood, marking random streets in a confusing manner, leading anybody who would follow them down strange, bike unfriendly paths.

Take Maplewood Drive NE, for instance, the street I used to get from J to H. It’s quiet enough that biking isn’t too dicey, but so strewn with bumps and potholes that it sort of makes up for the lack of traffic by including other fun obstacles. And, as far as I can tell (the signs are confusing so I’m not sure), it might even be designated as part of the “lost CEMAR Trail,” the trail that is theoretical and aspirational near Daniels Park, not the tiny actual trail leading from nowhere to nowhere near MMU.

And then there is H. H is for harrowing. H Avenue NE is a rather busy street at about 5 p.m. The first two blocks I rode were marked “share the road” with friendly street signs nobody seems to pay attention to. Once I got past Oakland Road, things did improve due to a bike lane, but it’s a kind of dicey bike lane, full of refuse, broken glass, and even, at one point, killer street drains—you bikers may know the ones I mean, large metal grates with slots parallel to the direction of travel on the bike lane. I’m glad I didn’t come up upon them after dark—and I wondered why I came up upon them at all, in a bike lane.

So I was a bit unraveled by the time I passed under I 380. Then I was at Cedar Lake.

A comely lass was rolling north along Shaver Road NE, riding a skateboard in the street. I was startled, a bit, for some reason—riding a skateboard in the street, even along relatively quiet Shaver Road, seems like a gutsy or clueless move when it’s shortly after 5 p.m., and CR Biker, who uses trails in CR fairly often, is used to gangly Sk8er Bois, not comely Sk8er Girls (or would it be Gurls? Some hip misspelling).

She was, if anything, a portent of calmness to come. The beauty of the afternoon meant a few people were on the trail, but I think I was there early enough that commuters weren’t home yet and the trail was still relatively quiet. And the lake was still and pretty. Even the parent geese , walking along the path with their goslings, seemed to have a placid attitude. A few honked at CR Biker in an unenthusiastic way, but I heard no hissing, saw no neck weaving and encountered no wing displays—clearly the placid afternoon had the geese by the lake in a somnolent state.

They must not have heard the city’s plans to feed them to homeless people. Shhhhh.

On bridge at end of Cedar Lake, looking north at creek that feeds into Lake. Ahh.

The rest of the ride home was mostly uneventful, except that I decided to use the bike lanes at 42nd Street to head towards Noelridge Park—I was getting into a “get home” mood. To ride on 42nd Street is no bicycle picnic, although, on the other wheel, 42nd Street NE has nothing on H Avenue NE.

On the way home, I added about 2 more miles to my route by taking the Lindale Trail loop just so I could climb Brentwood Drive hill. I did it this morning, too, in the other direction. I don’t know that I can do it on every ride—Thursday morning is jam packed with urgent grading—but it does feel good to be getting in a few extra miles a few hill climbs. RAGBRAI will be here soon enough.

Anyway, this is Bike to Work week, which means some local media attention for bikers. The Gazette just posted this interesting story about some biking plans the city is making. So CR wants more than a bronze? Well, even if today’s ride on H was a bit harrowing, I would agree that the city has noticeably improved in recent years for cyclists. Bravo, CR.

Now, about those bike killer street drains … couldn’t the slots be perpendicular to the street? That would make H a bit less Harrowing Avenue and a bit more Harmony Avenue.

In Which The Fancy Beast Rides Almost 50 Miles

I knew I was going on a longer ride, so I ate a biker breakfast.

The bike. What shall I call it? Fancy Beast?

I took a bike we inherited from the Moscou’s storage shed, a Raleigh bike, out for a test drive.

I wasn’t expecting much. It’s a mountain bike like the beast. But it felt fast, a nice ride. It’s lighter than the beast, but when I was pumping along the trail just north of Boyson Road, it felt like I was going fast, faster than I do when riding Francis.

Which was weird. The Beast is a slower bike than Francis. And this mountain bike had a top gear of 6—it’s only an 18-speed bike, not 21 like Francis or the Beast, although it was travelling fast in 6.

I was not always moving fast. A long train late in the ride had me waiting for a while.

And I made a mistake. I don’t recall exactly why—whether there was a slight upgrade I started to climb or it was because I was coming to the first road—but I shifted. And since I was not used to the bike, I made my mistake.

I thought I was shifting from 6, the highest year, to 5. Instead, a number that had not been visible—hidden after a little gap.

7. Holy guacamole, this is a 21-speech bike, and there’s a faster gear than 6. And when I was in seven, the fat tires sung on the trail and I zoomed towards Lafayette. It was 7 miles and took about 35 minutes to get there.

Selfie at Tait Cummins before heading home.

So, what a surprise.

The long test drive of the new beast-style bike produced unexpected results.

I rode to Lafayette and down to Tait Cummins park. I don’t have a computer on this bike, but I think it was around 45 miles.

And they went by faster than I expected.

I saw what I thought was a swan  on the Cedar River, but it honked like a goose, and besides the white feathers, acted like a goose, honked like a goose and was handing out with geese. Well, there are species of white geese, but why was this one here?

It was the second day of new rides. Friday, Audrey and I rode out to Culver’s. That time, I rode the beast because it’s a closer match to my wife’s bike. I think it was our first ride of the summer, and it was really nice.

Two days and two new rides.

Friday night at Culvers. Our bikes parked at the rack.

In Which I See Goosestock In CR

Cate. And Geese.

I didn’t go to Woodstock. It happened in 1969, and I turned 11 that year.

But I’ve been to Goosestock.

My sister Cate and I went on a 14-mile bike ride today. Since there wasn’t really any other option—due to closed trails caused by flood damage—we rode on the Cedar River Trail down to Cedar Lake. At the southwest end of the lake, around a bend heading towards Quaker Oats, we ran into a huge crowd of geese.

Now, geese at Cedar Lake are not an unusual sight. What was odd was there were no geese anywhere except this one spot—and it was packed with geese.

We weren’t sure what was going on, but it looked suspicious. I snapped some photos as we passed through. And, after we discovered the trail is still closed at the federal courthouse and turned back, I videotaped the transit through Goosestock.



At least I hope it was Goosestock. I hope they were hanging around, making the water fowl equivalent of hippie music. Or, was it something more sinister? Are they planning something?

For Once, It Was Just Too Cold

Worn looking bench where I took a short break before heading home.

Quoth the Raven: Get off my trail!

Well, on Monday, I did it for the first time this January.

I drove a car to work because it was too cold to ride. We’ve had a dry January, and even on fairly chilly days, I’ve been riding my bike. But not Monday, when the morning wind chills in Cedar Rapids were two digits below zero and the actual temperature struggled to get much above a goose egg all day.

I will bike when it’s zero and not windy. But this was around zero and very windy. No thanks.

Today, Tuesday, is between semesters, and I almost rode my bike to campus on this chilly afternoon—but I decided to drive at the last minute to save time (which I’m now wasting writing a blog post), and I drove because I may take a stack of spring books home to work on syllabi.

So, it’s nice to think back on Saturday, a slightly cool, windy day that was the final unseasonably warm day for a while.  It flirted with 50 that day, and despite cooling off a lot during my afternoon ride, it was still a good use of the day to get out on the trail.

I was not the only one to think that way. While much quieter than it would be during summer, the Cedar River Trail in Cedar Rapids nonetheless had quite a few bundled up bikers on Saturday.

I started out at 2 p.m. and headed south. I rode on the Cedar River Trail until almost 3:30, and made it just south of 73 Avenue Drive Southeast. It was pushing 3:30, and I assumed (correctly, as it turned out) that Audrey might want to go to Mass that night so we could Skype with Amanda on her 28th birthday.

I was looking for a turnaround spot—and a place to eat the granola bar I had brought along—when I spotted an old bench beside the trail. I wonder about its worn appearance, since the trail itself is not very old—but there it was and I was happy to sit on not-my-bike for a few minutes before heading home.

I had seen birds in abundance on the ride.  There was an odd moment on the trip home that happened just south of  the river in the Mount Trashmore area. A crowd of ravens were chattering and squawking in the brown, winter sleeping trees. I don’t know why.  They didn’t seem happy with either each other or a passing biker.

Then, a minutes later, after I had crossed the river, I met a group of geese ambling across the street by the new federal courthouse. Geese are not friendly, but I weaved my way through the crowd with barely a halfhearted hiss. You understand, I hope, that it was the geese hissing. I don’t hiss when I ride, although a tire of mine might when punctured—anyway, the geese didn’t bother to hiss much or threaten as they might have if goslings were around.

All in all, it was a pleasant ride despite the Hitchcock moments. Spring semester gets underway Thursday, but snow is possible, too. We’ll see if the new term brings as much biking as the old one did.

I like to bike, but I hope not. Rain will keep me from two wheels, and this spring, we desperately need rain.

Still, three hours of Saturday were well spent in a windy ride. And I did make it home, just in time to join Audrey at church.

Why did the goose cross the road? To get his picture in my blog, of course!

Spring Ride and What I Saw and Heard

First flower on Mount Mercy campus, an iris-like crocus (or crocus-like iris) near Basile Hall. And a goose guarding trail by Cedar Lake.

I rode to Mount Mercy today to print off some papers I need to grade, and on the way there and back, I used the Cedar River Trail. It was cloudy, but nice—a good day to be on the trail. Among other things, I saw:

• A goose who was very territorial when it came to the trail. He honked and was generally hissy, but didn’t actually attack, which I know some do sometimes.

• The first crocus blooming at MMU. The same pretty blue one that is seen each spring near Basile Hall.

• The first crocus blooming in my front yard. I've had some in back for several days, but now the ones in the front lawn, which I planted just last fall, are starting.
  

• Lots of people, joggers and walkers and bikers. Had to stop for a tot on a bike who wasn’t wary enough, but safe biking is no accident.

• The first robin. Granted, it’s been so warm this winter and early spring that I’m sure robins have been around since January, but it’s the first one I saw. Actually two, since it was a pair of contentious males.

• A bike brake shoe with pad lying near 42^nd Street. Hope whoever lost this was able to stop.

Anyway, it was another beautiful spring day. A great sadness of modern life is all the empty parks you see—kids don’t play outside as they did when I was a wee lad. It was great to see some people out there today enjoying this fine weather.

Riding on the trail definitely gave me the itch. I’m leaning more and more towards the whole week of RAGBRAI—and decision time is coming within a week!

A slide show of what I saw today:

My Goose is Cooked

I was on my way to work this morning, when another biker told me some exciting news. He stated that the city has installed bike sensors on the right hand lanes of F Avenue where it meets Collins Road, which means if I’m at the right place in the correct lane, the light can be triggered by my bike, and I don’t have to waste a lot of time waiting for cars.

Well, he told me that when we were already on F, so I didn’t get a chance this morning to seek, see, photograph or try the mythical bike sensors, but I was pretty jazzed on the way to work, thinking that I would take a picture of them and have an image and topic for my next post.

Alas. Best laid plans of mice, men and bikers and all that.

Meanwhile nearing the end of my morning commute, I was on Eastern Avenue headed towards Regis Middle School. I usually turn down a side street, 27^th, I think, but as I neared that final corner, fate decided to take a hand.

I looked up and saw a large crowd of geese on the lawn of Regis. Rather than turn, I proceeded on Eastern to the corner of whatever street Regis (and MMU) is on, and took out my trusty Kodak. I counted more than 60 geese and took a few photos, but when I put the camera away and got ready to finish my morning ride., I made the sad discovery.

Something at the corner must have been sharp enough to puncture tire and tube. I had a flat.

Sigh. No afternoon commute, no verification of the bike sensors, no happy post about a key intersection finally becoming bike friendly.

Well, if they’re there, the sensors will still be there tomorrow. After Audrey gave me a ride this evening, it took me 15 minutes to change my tube. Knock on wood that the new one is still full of air in the morning (I’ve now and then had a new one prove to be holey, too), and I’ll check out the bike pavement sensors then.