In Which I Have Hope for a Brighter Future

Lights of bike bridge in Marion seen Dec. 18, 2024.

In the end, 2024 didn’t go as I hoped that it would. I didn’t exceed 3,000 miles on my bikes, nor reach my goal of riding 3,300 miles. And I thought, through much of the year, that my miles in 2025 would easily be even more, what with my retiring and having for time for more, longer bicycle rides.

What I didn’t anticipate were some medical bumps in the road. In March, I had a TIA, and was being way more careful after that to not push my bike rides too hard. Yet, as the year drew to its close, I had some dizziness, some light headedness and chest pressure—not pain, but a feeling that something was not right.

As it turns out, my feelings were right, in that something was not right. I ended up having some medical tests which indicated some heart issues, and now I’m going to have heart surgery in early 2025—and Dec. 18, the day before I met with a heart doctor, was my final bike ride of 2024, which was not my life plan.

Well, life is like a bike ride. You can make plans but also must just deal with what you find, what you encounter on the journey. My time on two wheels is on temporary hiatus, probably for several months. Yet, it is likely by March or so I will be ready to roll again.

Dec. 9--Bike ride on Lindale Trail in sunshine--deer traffic on trail. There was winter weather in December, but it was nice enough for biking in most days in Iowa.

I won’t set a mile goal for 2025. I feel like when I start riding again, it will be like starting to ride again, with a body I have to get used to and train from square one. Well, at least the skill of riding a bike won’t have gone away. And heart rehab will be aided by wheeling across the planet, once I’m ready.

At least the months I’m losing—January and February—aren’t prime biking season anyway. While there are no guarantees in this life—as I’m well learning now—my health prognosis is good, with a very high likelihood of being able to get back to biking this year.

We’ll see what is coming.

My last ride, Dec. 18, was an interesting day, one week before Christmas. It’s my wedding anniversary, and after my solo ride, my wife and I went out for a nice dinner.

It was a chilly, grey winter day. I rode down to campus (to get some files I needed for work) and then doubled back along the Cemar Trail. It was a medium ride—cool, but not too cold as I was dressed well.

When I got close to home, the light was getting dim, and I decided to ride down the Lindale Trail. They have completed the trail bridge in Marion that goes across Seventh Avenue, the town’s main drag at that point. I don’t typically ride the trail in dark, but twilight is not full dark. Yet it was dark enough that I hoped to see what the bridge lighting looks like.

Dec. 18--Last biking selfie of the year (above) and bike parked at twilight near bridge.

Well, it was quite pretty, but also obviously set to be decorative from the street—to be a fancy gateway into Marion. The lights are on the exterior of the bridge. They leak enough light onto the bridge deck to illuminate the way there at night, but there is a bit of a ride on a dark trail to get to the bridge from either direction, so I don’t blame the powers that be for illuminating the bridge to look good for drivers rather than plan it to be best for bikers on the bridge, since one would not expect many bikers there at night.

I’m glad I came. The bridge was pretty to see with its lights on, and my twilight strategy worked out OK—I won’t make a habit of a ride at that time, but my bike lights were adequate and I enjoyed the sight, not realizing that is would become my final ride for a while. It all, it was 11.18 miles for the day, almost 95 miles in December and 2,953.83 miles for the year.

Goodbye, 2024. What with one thing and another, it wasn’t quite the year I hoped that it would be, but then again, I suppose, life is never fully what I hope it will be. I still enjoyed almost 3,000 miles rolling across this pretty Earth via bicycle in 2024, and I look forward, after my unexpected break, to continue that kind of journey.

I hope your 2024 went well and that you’ll roll many miles in 2025. And I hope to see some of you out on the bike trails soon enough!

Bike on Cemar Trail near Raining Rose. Gray, cool day. As it turned out, this ride on my road bike Argent was the final ride of 2024. Not what I wanted, but I enjoyed the miles I could ride.

In Which We Count Warm Pre-Christmas Rides

Saturday, selfie on the bike before we leave for pre-party ride.

Winter Solstice—shortest day of the year. The family Sheller clan gathering was gathering that day, two miles away at my sister’s house.

And it was sunny and warm, even if the nearest star is at its lowest winter angle.

I was in the backyard in the morning—first I filled the bird feeders, then I lurked to make images. My wife opened a window and suggested that I contact my daughter who lives nearby. She was planning to go to the family party with us, and my wife suggested that I ask a grandson, her son, if he wanted a ride on my bike before the party.

I called my daughter. She agreed. It was a bit past 11 when they arrived. I got the bicycle ready by inflating tyres, oiling the chain and installing the child seat. The 4-year-old is definitely at the upper end of size for this seat—not too heavy, but getting too tall to fit into it. Nonetheless, he welcomed the chance to ride.

We loaded up and headed out. First, we rode south, going around the pond at Collins Aerospace and then down C Avenue past Collins Road. We cut over to Harding Middle School and then crossed Noelridge Park, on the way to the Cedar River Trail.

My grandson was into numbers on the ride. He wanted to see how high he can count—he needed some help to transition from thirty to forty rather than skipping up to sixty, but with a little coaching, counted all the way to 100. He also tallied things seen on the ride—five squirrels, for example. I don’t recall the dog count, but lower than the squirrels. Two red trucks. One firetruck (not counted as a “red” truck, those were pickup trucks).

After the party, he said he was going to ride home in the van with grandma and mom, so I took the seat off the bike and stowed it in the van. And he changed his mind, so I reassembled the bicycle and he rode home on the bike. Luckily, taking the seat on or off the bike is very easy, just screwing in one nut that has a handle on it for that purpose.

That was Saturday. Sunday was another busy day—church, shopping, lunch out, getting a haircut (the grandson had declared a while ago that his next haircut would take place with grandpa—we had to get our hair cut together. Today we made it so.)

Light was fading when it was time for the grandson to go home—but he wanted to roll there, so we got the bike out and turned on the lights.

The ride on this pretty day was shorter, but enjoyable. We headed down Boyson Road, rolled around a neighborhood for a while looking at lights, and then headed to his apartment. After leaving him off, I took an early evening ride east to the “Christmas house” that is in my sister’s neighborhood.

A man was outside fooling with his lights. I paused to make an image, and we chatted. He noted that Santa comes out every night to hand out candy canes. I asked him how long he has had the extensive display of lights. “Nineteen years,” he said.

An impressive number on a weekend of pleasant, unusually warm for this time of year, number-oriented bicycle rides.

The "Christmas house" in northeastern Cedar Rapids.

In Which A Cop Avoids Being Smushed

According to a story in the Aug. 26 Gazette, Iowa City Police Officer Ashten Hayes is one lucky woman.

She was struck by an SUV while riding her bicycle. She got pretty banged up, according to the paper, but didn’t break any bones.

From Thegazette.com--photo
Ashten Hayes
supplied of her wheel.

Her bicycle, as she notes in the news story, is “mashed potatoes.”

Hayes seems to have a good attitude about the whole thing—saying it was just an accident and describing the SUV driver as a “gentleman.” But for a bicycle commuter, it’s a reminder of the dangers of two wheels sharing the road with four.

And yes, I ride bike trails when I can, but trails don’t go everywhere.

Best of luck, Ms. Hayes, as you heal. You are quoted in the Gazette as advocating all bikers have lights and helmets—check and check. CR Biker endorses that idea. You also urge us to be aware of our surroundings—again, for a longtime bike rider, it may be easier said than done, but that doesn’t mean it should not be done.

And SUV drivers out there—please be careful. Don’t smash any bikers, neither IC cops nor old man college professors.

In Which I Dream Of Warm Summer Rides

Bike suspended from ceiling at Iowa History Museum. Interesting RAGBRAI display is up there.

My son Jon is off for a while. He and his lovely wife Nalena were home for Thanksgiving, but now have gone back to Pittsburgh and then are going to Portugal in the new year.

But he is already planning to come back next summer to ride RAGBRAI. He is unsure of officially joining Team Joe, because he’s willing to stay in the campground in order to avoid having to drive any shift—he wants to ride every RAGBRAI mile.

More museum transit photos.
Grandson loved stairs.

I don’t blame him. I’m not sure I could have physically ridden all of the miles in 2014—I had a few issues this year with my health—but I did ride all of the miles in my first 2 RAGBRAIs, and there’s something to be said for doing that. Maybe if I can get into slightly better shape … well, we’ll see. The Team Joe strategy—riding most of RAGBRAI but also driving a few shifts—does provide some helpful breaks, too.

So I am not sure of my plans yet. Except that they seem to include RAGBRAI. Just how much remains to be seen—then again everything about RAGBRAI, besides the logo, remains to be seen.

Anyway, the warmer weather this weekend gave way to an Arctic blast today, but the wife had bought me new long johns, so I braved the cold today and rode. My rear derailleur is out of whack, but luckily got stuck in a hill-appropriate gear. The bike still works for a cold, quick commute, but clearly being able to shift will come in handy at some point. And while it was cold, I hasten to add that it wasn't in the “can’t ride” cold category, it was just in the “wear layers when you bike” cold category.

Museum had old plane that look like they have bicycle tires.

And today, the incredible lightness of being has improved for my bike. My wife bought me two spelunking style head lamps that I’ve strapped to my bike helmet. Not only do these improve safety through high illumination, the lights are incredibly cool because they use AAA batteries—which means these lights will last a long, long time.

Long enough, probably, to be of use in next year’s RAGBRAI.

New lights on helmet. Note sophisticated technology (rubber bands) used.

In Which Flurries Fall On A Dark, Cold Ride

From Wikicommons, uploaded by Boxstaa. Bike with car lights.

I have redundant lights on Francis for a reason. I figure when one battery fails, it means that the world can see me. Well, the universe didn’t go according to plans Wednesday.

Yesterday morning, for whatever reason, I could not find the yellow vest I wear when biking. Well, it’s wasn’t all that dark, and with lights, I figured I would be OK. I didn’t worry much about the afternoon ride—I was planning to leave campus before 4 anyway, and it would still be light out.

As often happens, I was late. A student was ill and I had to distribute the newspaper, an hour-long task. So by the time I left campus, it was 5.

And both front lights looked sickly pale when I flipped them on. Before I was even 1/3 of the way home, they were pretty much dark of the moon blank.

The only good news is that my main headlight uses AAA batteries—a rare treasure among bike lights which tend to use hard-to-find expensive little batteries that seem to cost more than the lights do. Part of the throw-away culture, I’m afraid.

Anyway, my wife was a big help in getting the batteries changed. She had also bought some new little lights, because sets of them were on sale for $1 each (again, much cheaper than buying just the battery would be). My yellow vest had been missing Wednesday, too, but Thursday morning I managed to locate it in a “glove drawer.”

It was cold today, too—but not quite as cold. And I was riding with lights on, which was also a big step up. My lights are on and I’m ready to ride. Hopefully the weekend snow will be cleared for next week’s commutes.

In Which The Lights Are On and I’m Not Home

Looking east along Blair's Ferry Road at C Avenue Northeast, Cedar Rapids. Sunrise this morning, around 7:10 a.m. Note that most drivers are using their lights. Good for them.

I have been running with the lights most mornings, these days. At shortly after 7, when I hit the road, it’s too dark. No really “dark,” but dark enough I feel I need lights to ensure drivers can see me.

I don’t mind riding with lights, but I am often amazed at how many car drivers don’t use them when they should. Memo to drivers—you don’t only use lights so that you can see. Even if a milky sun has just crested the horizon and the lights no longer illuminate your path—they are as or perhaps more important to make you visible to others. It’s only in the strong light of full day that you don’t need to shine them beams. In clouds or twilight or early morning, be a beacon. Turn on those lights!

Anyway, not only have I been running with lights, but I installed lights on Audrey’s bike, too. She purchases a back light and a front light for herself, plus a spoke light for her back wheel. Tuesday, as I was heading home from bell practice, she texted me that she was over at Katy’s house for supper—and she had biked over there. (Indeed, this was the famous night of pie I already blogged about, now I'm using the same experience in a totally different context. Writing is like that.)

So I turned at the Lindale Trail and headed east to Marion. It turns out that a second daughter and her kids were there too, so it was a pleasant, impromptu family reunion, although by the time I got there, the daylight was already fading.

It was very dark by the time Audrey and I left to cycle home. It was her first ride using her new lights. She followed me about half of the way, and led for the other half.

The ride was fine. There are a few dark stretches on the streets between Katy’s house and ours, but luckily no surprise branches or cracks to bump or grab a wheel. I had spoke light envy when I followed Audrey—that whimsical rainbow light is actually a good idea.

It makes her hard to miss. Or rather, easy to miss, because you can see her, which is the point of lights on a bike.

All in all, I prefer biking in the light, but as a bike commuter, I’m entering a time of year when that’s not always an option. However, as long as I have lights and I’m on familiar roads, it’ll work.

And now Audrey has passed another biking milestone. She, too, can be a light night rider.

In Which I See The Light In Des Moines

Well, bike and blog pals, I’m hoping the winter bike commuting hiatus will come to an end soon. There are signs it might. I’m briefly in Des Moines, attending the Iowa College Media Association convention, feeling slightly guilty that I forgot to give my sister who lives here a heads up, but honestly I’m just going to pop into town and then scoot home, so there really wasn’t much time for a visit.

Anyway, it rained all the way here, and the snow is mostly gone. There was more in Cedar Rapids, but I bet even there the wet stuff melted much of the white stuff. It will have to dry up enough so that evening chills won’t make all pavement icy, but we’re close to biking seasons opening again.

I saw another sign while taking some students out to dinner after the Mount Mercy Times won nine awards at the newspaper convention. It was between 7 and 8, fully dark, and some brave soul on a yellow 10 speed was cycling in downtown Des Moines.

My sister?  Nah, her bike doesn't look that that at all, and he was a he. Well, at least he had lights!

Biking season is again soon to begin.

I’ll Have a Blue Christmas

The house of blue Christmas, seen Nov. 16, 2012.

Friday we picked up Ben in Ames, and then drove back to MMU so I could ride my bike home.  It was dark, but a fair, nice evening.

More Christmas lights are slowly appearing on the route, and I snapped this image of a house behind Kenwood School all decked out in blue.  I like the color, and the waxing moon that you can also see.

Christmas may be coming, but at least the biking weather it still good!

The Night Rider Rides Spooky Trails

You can't see it well, but I've just taken my bike off of a bike rack at City Hall in Cedar Rapids.  It's night, which explains the odd yellow light.  The dark ride home turned out to be pleasant.

Just in time for Halloween season:  The night rider.

I have a reporting class that visits a Cedar Rapids City Council meeting for a writing exercise.  So, at about 3:40, I left MMU to ride to the new City Hall.

I was worried about being late, and I barely made it, but I did.  And my whole class was there.  The meeting, which started at 4, stretched out until about 7:30 or so.

The meeting concluded, rather dramatically, with a presentation by a roller derby team seeking a home.  Me, I’d give one to them.

But, I digress.  Although, perhaps the sight of those strong-looking, tattooed women put me in a slightly edgy mood.  When it was time to leave, I wondered—go through Wellington Heights or ride along a dark trail?

The night rider chose the trail.

It was a bit spooky, zooming along at night.  It wasn’t that late, but was fully dark.  The ride made me appreciate electricity, as much of the way was accidentally illuminated via streetlights shining off of a cloud canopy.  A half moon helped, too.

I passed several joggers and bikers, all in the dark, none but me using lights.  Me, I was lit up like a Christmas tree.  It’s the only way I’ll ride in the dark.

What I anticipated to be the darkest stretches of the trail—the part north of J Avenue, for instance—were dark, but not as dark as I expected.  I slowed down a bit.  There were occasional shuffling sounds in the undergrowth, which was a bit unnerving.  And at one point, I passed a group of seven deer, fairly close, with most running off, but a big one stopping and staring at me as if issuing a dare.

A buck, maybe?  Couldn’t see points in the dark, but this was definitely the biggest deer of the group, and he, if it was a he, was more defiant than all the rest.  Testosterone during mating season?  Luckily, I passed by quickly and Mr. Buck let me be.

As I headed further north, somehow, my mood changed.  It stopped being eerie.  There was the sound of Interstate traffic, the vague city night noises—snatches of conversation too far away for the words to be discerned, the occasional distant siren, and, always, traffic.  I didn’t feel too alone, and I knew the trail well enough to be pretty comfortable with the ride.

The darkest part of my ride was Noelridge Park, which I crossed via a sidewalk that leads to the Harding Middle School area.  It was quieter here, away from 380, and darker, with no lights from nearby buildings or streets.  And, somehow, in that isolation, it was very pleasant.  I don’t know if riding alone at night in a park is a great idea, but it was a peaceful break tonight for me.

Monday--no ride today.  But the rain was gone by afternoon.  Leaves and the afternoon light on the hood of the car I drove that day.  Yes, Jon, your Mazda.

Well, the ride that had started with roller girls and a train that delayed me for a few minutes ended in quite reverie.  Despite the dampness of this day, it was a good one for bike riding.  I had ridden Sunday, but not Monday, due to the rain.

Back in the saddle—a nice place to be, even at night.  Especially when the eerie pre-Halloween ride ends up merely pleasant.

Oct. 21--in the warm afternoon, as I ride home on the Cedar River Trail, some late season bugs are out.  A number of grasshoppers, and this guy, even bigger, a praying mantis about 4 inches long that the grasshoppers best avoid.

Kinda Looks A Lot Like Christmas

Giving tree at MMU. Time to think of Christmas gifts.

In these cold November days, I’ve noted some holiday signs on my daily ride.

Several houses along my route are starting to display Christmas lights. “The Giving Tree” is out at the MMU campus. We’ve had our first snow, which is long since gone, but mornings have been cold—so cold this morning that I wore my skiing underwear and two pairs of socks for the morning ride.

It wasn’t overkill.

The Christmas lights may not be the most environmentally friendly tradition, but many of the streets I bike on are rather dark, and even the dim ambient light of a few twinkly Christmas strands can help.

Mid November. Too soon for Christmas? Maybe, but as the weather gets cold I can understand people who don’t want to wait. And I appreciate the light.

Lights Are On But I’m Not Home

My bike this morning, with battery-powered flashing light shining. The other light would be on at night, but in the dim morning sunshine, I think one light is enough.

We’re at the awkward few weeks of the year. The equinox has passed and the solstice is still in our future, but the Northern Hemisphere is tilting away from Sol, so the days are closing in.

So, I have an odd sensation in the morning—riding with my lights on.

Lights are a key tool for CR Biker. I can’t commute without them.

In my biking time, I’ve used a variety of lights. Back in the day, years ago, when I purchased my first 10 speed, I also bought a generator-activated set of lights, which of course would shine only when the bike was in motion, and were a bit of a pain due to noise and drag.

Signs that technology can deteriorate—that generator set, purchased around 1975 or so, lasted for most of the rest of the 20^th Century. In the 21^st Century, when I started biking to MMU a few years ago, I was riding a Trek and purchased another generator set for that bike. It was a hunk of junk and lasted for less than a year.

So it goes. That’s not the only bike “thing” that has gone down in quality, by the way. My first frame pump, again from the disco era, lasted for several decades and was a fairly reliable little metal tube that could, with some effort and time, fully inflate a tire. My current frame pump is a rather silly plastic thingie that can barely puff more air into a tire than I could just exhaling into it.

Yeah, I’m sure quality lights and frame pumps are available. Just being a crotchety old biker, pining for the days when lights were lights and pumps were pumps and toasters were all metal, too.

Anyway, now, I’m a battery man, although my battery lights are not always as reliable as I would like. I’ve long had redundant front lights, and wanted redundant back lights, too, so Audrey bought me what looked like a sturdy bike light set. But the back lights, the most important ones since I already have more than one front light, failed within a few weeks.

Sigh.

Well, I don’t mind riding with lights. It was cool and slightly frosty this morning, and those slightly frosty mornings are the best biking weather there is. Better than summer, when it’s just hot and you have to drink, drink, drink to stay alive. Better than winter, with its long-john underwear, multiple socks and chilled nose.

So I’ll run with my lights on, but be glad when we can turn the clock back so there’s more light to ride in!

Speaking of lights are on, an ear worm for your Monday: