In Which Iowa Bambi Just Doesn’t Care

July 13--During a warm summer trike ride on the Boyson Trail, I come across an unusual group of deer by the Frisbee golf course. Most groups of deer are either does or family groups--several does and fawns. It's not unusual to see a buck and sometimes a buck in a group of does--but this seemed to be a large gathering of mostly bucks. I have no idea why they were together.

Remember the movie Bambi? That old Disney classic helped establish one of the most important rules of character survival: Don’t be the hero’s parent in the opening scene of an animated kid’s Disney movie (I think the second rule is don’t wear a red shirt in the original Start Trek series).

The Great King of the Forest, otherwise known as Bambi’s absent deadbeat dad, solemnly warned Bambi: “It is Man. He is here again. There are many this time. We must go deep into the forest. Hurry! Follow me!”

Well, Bambi and his mom didn’t live along the Lindale Trail in Cedar Rapids. The deer there have learned that man on the trail on bicycle or tricycle means almost nothing.

July 21--Fawn in fenced area--a retention pond behind a Walgreens near the Lindale Trail. The low fence clearly is not a barrier to deer. Start of a bunch of Bambi images.

July 21--Mom eyes trike rider making images. But doesn't seem worried.

July 21--Fawn again. Not sure if it's the same--there were two fawns and two does in the enclosure.

July 19--Fawn by Lindale Trail. It's in a bit of a hurry, but note that it's not fleeing in terror, it's trotting towards the photographer. It did turn and head into the woods, but came for a closer look first.

July 12--Deer by Boyson Trail lets me get very close. I paused for a while, and she moved on. When someone walking a dog came from the other direction. Dogs are worth avoiding Hairless apes, not so much.

Anyway, it’s late July in a very, very hot Iowa summer. The riders of RAGBRAI were lucky as last week was a respite from the recent pattern, but now a new heat dome has settled over this part of North America. The heat index Monday is slated to be well into triple digits—even though the actual temperature will “only” be in the 90s.

I’m not quite crazy enough to ride in that kind of heat. I did bike yesterday, the first of the warm days in the latest heat wave, but it wasn’t as bad then. I had volunteered at the Cedar Rapids Chain Reaction Bike Hub. It was a pleasant ride there in the morning, but a very uncomfortable, hot journey home in the afternoon. And it was mild compared to what it was today and will be Monday.

Don’t worry, Lindale Bambi. You may see a stray biker imitating a mad dog or Englishman Monday, but it won’t be this one.

July 7--Not sure why I was biking this warm summer evening in early July, but I was. Summer sun going down at Lowe Park on one of those days that was not too hot to ride.

July 19--On my trike on Lindale Trail. Short ride this day due to smoke from Canadian fires.

Anyway, my miles haven’t been all that impressive lately. No 40-mile rides in July, for example. So far this year, I peaked in March, which is not what I expected. I rode 265.91 miles in June, and as of July 26 I have rolled 212.48 this month.

I don’t aspire to break March’s 377.78 miles this month. Yet, I think being cautious about the weather is OK for a biker who will turn 68 in August. And I've rolled just over 1,868 miles so far this year on trike and bike.

Maybe the miles will pick up in fall. It remains to be seen. But even if the rides have not been super long, I have very enjoyed my June and July rides. When it’s not violently storming nor hellishly hot, Iowa in summer is a pleasant place to roll, to see the grass and flowers, and deer.

Who just don’t care. Man is in the woods. Meh. Some non-deer images from recent rides:

July 1--Grass along Creek Trail in Marion has summer look.

June 19--Summer clouds at Cedar Lake.

June 12--Riding on Cedar Valley Nature Trail near Robins, fine summer day.

June 8--Late day summer sun at Lowe Park.

June 19--South of Cedar River on Cedar River Trail--site of new bridge near Mount Trashmore. When the weather improves, I'll have to check on this project again.

July 25--I bike down to the Chain Reaction Bike Hub, a non-profit bike shop in Cedar Rapids that recycles and fixes up bikes to provide an inexpensive option to aspiring bikers. I volunteered for a shift there--and noted this container near a tool bench. Seems like a good band name, to me.

In Which Sand Beats Sommer

I've just turned onto the "Interurban Trail," one I've never been on before. I'm not even sure I'm on a trail, but it turns out I was.

No, Sommer wasn’t another candidate in the Democratic primary for governor this year. As you may recall, Sommer Livin is my name for my tricycle—and what temporarily defeated (de-wheeled?) her was literal, gritty sand.

I finished May with almost 338 riding miles, which I consider respectable, but slightly disappointing because I rode a few more (almost 378) in March. Checking my ride records, there were a few 20 plus rides in March, including one 42-mile day. I rode more days in May, but just didn’t do rides that were that long.

Deer on Lindale Trail May 17.

Stretch of Cedar Valley Nature Trail north of Boyson Road has new paving, seen on trike ride May 14.

New art under Highway 13 on Grant Wood Trail, image made during trike ride May 13.

May 12--Snake on a trail! On side trail off of Boyson Trail, heading towards Menards area.

May 17--I see my first Monarch of the year on the Lindale Trail.

No matter, I rolled across this warming planet and enjoyed myself. Except when I couldn’t roll—as we’ll get to. It’s June here in Iowa now, and seems a very warm, summery June. My most interesting (and longest recent) ride was this Monday, June 1. I hadn’t planned to ride a particularly challenging route that day, but just wanted to enjoy a fine summer day on the first day of the new month, so I set off from home, heading south on the Cedar River Trail.

My goal was to ride to the Prairie Park Fishery. I did, and circled the lake there, and considered. Did I want to ride the Sac and Fox Trail? In the past, I usually used my mountain bike for that trail, but have permanently retired that bike. Sommer, however, has fairly wide tyres, and the weather has been dry—the Sac and Fox Trail is not paved, and I would not have tried riding it in damp conditions.

The problem wasn’t the S and F itself—the issue is where I would be once I finished the trail. The Prairie Park Fishery is at the south end of the trail. The north end is in a city park off of East Post Road south of Cottage Grove Avenue.

I’ve ridden a bicycle home on Cottage Grove Avenue before—but I don’t consider its full length to be trike rideable. I knew that further west of where I was there is a bike lane, but there’s not one that goes as far as the neighborhood where the Sac and Fox Trail ends.

Well, just last week I had ridden a bicycle to the Bever Park neighborhood on a ride with a grandson—so I knew going along Cottage Grove wasn’t my sole option. The Bever Park area features quiet side streets and a bike lane along its main drag that made triking at least worth considering, so I decided to take a chance.

I made several discoveries along the Sac and Fox ride. The main one, I am pleased to report, is that when it’s dry, Sommer can easily handle the Sac and Fox. I can put that trail back into my riding rotation even if I have to skip the side mountain bike trails that I used to ride. It takes some time to get to this trail—in the past, I often drove to the north end with my mountain bike in my van—and I won’t ride it often, but it’s a good trail on the right days. And Monday was a right day.

Another discovery was a bit amusing. I entered the trail from the south and went north. It’s about 7 miles, and midway through the ride, I passed some orange fencing rolled up on the side. Hmm. Weird. Then, I passed a road where a bridge is being replaced. The unpaved trail gave way to soft ground, and it felt like I was crossing a construction zone.

Workers and equipment were off to both the left and right, and I very much felt out of place. Sommer slowed in the soft ground, but didn’t bog down. I passed the short, odd construction segment and continued north—only to encounter a barrier across the trail. I rode around it to the other side, and it proclaimed “trail closed.” Why was it closed headed south, but open headed north? Was the rolled-up fencing an error?

Sign (above) seen after I came from that direction--above. It's closed headed south but was open riding north. And me with sign on cell phone image I posted during my ride (below).

Anyway, while Sommer is trail ready, I’m not sure the trail is meant to be ready for riding, so it will probably be some months before I again ride the Sac and Fox.

At the park at the trail’s north end, I picked up a trail map and considered my options. My vague plan was to head south on the wide sidewalk beside East Post Road until I got to a quiet street, then turn right and worm my way to the Bever Park area. I don’t really know the route, however, and I’m far more adventurous on a bicycle where my field of vision is much better than I am on my tricycle.

Hmmm. The map showed, as a dotted line, the “Interurban Trail,” which looked to be nearby and looked to reach East Post Road. Was that an option?

I passed a driveway with no mailbox or house visible, and wondered if that was the trail. Fortunately, I didn’t take that route, because a bit more along the road, I found what clearly looked to be a grass trail headed west. There was no sign to identify it, but there was clearly a path along a line of utility poles, so I turned west on the grass and started out.

The “trail” was very primitive and bumpy. After a few yards, I stopped, and attempted to call up Google Maps on my phone to see if it would help confirm where I was. As I was looking at the tiny screen, a biker on a mountain bike came up behind me and passed me, continuing west. Well, that seemed like evidence this grassy walkway might be the elusive Interurban Trail, so on I went.

It was a little weird. I would have been much more comfortable here on a mountain bike, but Sommer was up to the route. That is, until I crossed a street and reached a sandy stretch. I attempted to ride there, but almost immediately my rear drive wheel started tossing sand in the air as the trike stopped all forward movement.

Yikes! I unhooked my feet and prepared to push the trike. However, the ground was level and I could move my side wheels by hand and “walk” with my legs. The level ground was important, because unclipping your feet on a trike might be an invitation to run over your legs, which is a painful experience best avoided. Anyway, between walky feet and pushy hands, I slowly sloshed about 20 yards to the end of the inconvenient, but thankfully small, sandy area.

I've just manually moved trike through the "beach" on the Interurban Trail.

The trail continued. At times, it felt like I was just triking along at the edge of someone’s backyard, but the journey carried on. Then, I reached a narrow, quiet paved street. It looked like a driveway, but had a street sign. I had trouble figuring out where it was, so I asked a gentleman who was walking his dog where I was. He pointed to a corner shortly ahead, and said I could turn there and go left to reach Bever Avenue or turn right to reach Cottage Grove Avenue.

Well, bad news. On the map, the Interurban Trail continues to Bever Park, and my plan was to take the trail all the way there—but across the street from me there was a fence and gate blocking the trail. I learned later from one of my daughters that the trail in fact does continue—one can walk around the blocking gate—but I couldn’t see a way to ride a trike there.

Honestly, I didn’t want to tackle Cottage Grove Avenue—I was in the valley of a tributary of the Cedar River, and Cottage Grove climbs steeply out of that valley. I know from my time as a CR biker that the Cottage Grove hill is a monster.

My final few yards on the Interurban Trail--what appears to be a nicely paved driveway is actually a quiet, narrow street.

The side street that the nice man had directed me to had bike lanes, fortunately, so I turned left to head towards Bever Avenue. And looked ahead. The road I was on climbed out of the same valley that Cottage Grove Avenue does. And if I reached Bever Avenue, I would be some ways from an easy-to-trike route home.

But I have biked up Cottage Grove Avenue before. While it features a high hill, it also, this far west, features a bike lane. And if I reached the top of the mountain, I was pretty confident in several OK options to reach home. I could continue heading south and climb the unknown hill to Bever Avenue, or turn north towards the big, but known, Cottage Grove rise.

It was warm, I was tired. But I decided to go for it—I executed a U turn and headed back towards Cottage Grove. I got to s stop sign, turned left and headed up that mountain, riding in the bike lane.

It was a tough slog up that incline—but memory is a funny thing. While Cottage Grove features a very challenging hill, it was more challenging in my memory than in reality. Don’t get me wrong, it took a lot of effort to ascend, it just wasn’t as daunting as I thought it would be. Halfway up, I tried to comfort myself. Count 100 strokes, I told myself. Before you reach 100, you will be on top of the hill.

It wasn’t exactly a lie but also not exactly true—it took pretty much all of those 100 strokes to climb out of that valley—but it didn’t take more, so I guess it was OK. On a bike, my route home would be to turn right at Washington High School—but that’s a “bike” street, not a trike route. I decided to continue west on Cottage Grove Avenue, not a familiar route, and I was pleasantly surprised. What had been a bike lane turned into a dedicated bike trail between the street and sidewalk. I had to switch to the actual sidewalk when I crossed First Avenue, but soon found myself on familiar, quiet streets in the Mount Mercy area, and I was able to easily make my way back to the CeMar Trail for the familiar trip home.

So, I don’t know how June will end. Will I exceed March’s miles now that summer is here? I don’t know, and I hope I don’t worry about it too much. The journey, not the mileage total, is the point. Still, I rolled 29.55 miles on that warm summer day—including climbing what is one of the most daunting hills available in my town.

Not bad.

Trike at intersection of Creek Trail and Boyson Road late in the day May 17. I just liked the angle.

Young deer by Lindale Trail--not caring a human is riding by.

Memorial Day, May 25. I ride over to Oakshade Cemetery to say hi to my parents. They don't have a headstone yet, but one has been ordered.

In Which I Bid a Beast Adieu

 

April 12--The Fancy Beast on the driveway. Years ago, I named an old Schwinn mountain bike The Beast, and when a son-in-law passed this bike on to me, it became The Fancy Beast. It's being wheeled out of the garage to cross the rainbow bridge or visit the farm or whatever euphemism you prefer.

Well, life was the theme of my last post back in March. Looking back at the end of something, fortunately not life, is more the theme of this post. I was naming my newish tricycle back in March—I’m bidding a final farewell to an old bicycle this time.

Early in March, I decided to visit a nearby gym I go to several times a week. It’s not far away, and I usually cycle there. Because I have to cross some parking lots, I don’t like to ride Sommer, my trike, because I don’t ride the trike where I have to dodge cars.

So I rode a bicycle—in this case, my mountain bike, The Fancy Beast. I rode and parked and exercised, but when I came out of the gym to head home, I encountered bad news. The metal piece that attaches the rear derailleur had failed, leaving the chain loose and detached. Fortunately, the gym isn’t too far from home to walk the distance, although I’ll admit strolling while pushing a disabled bicycle is not my favorite way to hike.

The broken derailleur, above and below, on The Fancy Beast.

Anyway, it was a couple of weeks before I took the bike to a bike shop for an evaluation. Could it be repaired? Well, yes, but the derailleur wasn’t the only problem. The bicycle was long overdue for a tune up and needed a new rear tyre. What with one thing and another, the repair bill would be around $400.

That just seemed to be too much. I can afford it, but don’t want to spend that much on an old bicycle I only ride infrequently. I have Argent, my road bike, and Clarence, my hybrid bike, that I ride more—and most of my rides these days are on Sommer, the recumbent trike.

I briefly considered buying a new mountain bike, but that would cost more than twice as much as the repair job, so I had a difficult decision to make.

On the one hand, there are some trails and rides that I can’t do without a mountain bike. There are mountain bike trails off of the Boyson Trail, one of the routes I ride often. I also like the Sac and Fox Trail in Cedar Rapids—an unpaved trail that is most comfortable to ride with a mountain bike. Once a year, I ride up Mount Trashmore and then fly down on a trail that is exclusively for mountain bikes.

On the other hand, 95 percent of my riding is on other routes. Paved bike trails and bike lanes have been expanding in my area in recent years, and it was just last year that I got the trike, which, as I noted, is my main ride these days. What would it mean if I simply didn’t have a mountain bike?

I thought about it, often ruminating on the question as the slow miles rolled by on Sommer Livin. The weather has turned warm this spring, and the paved trails around here go on and on for miles.

These days, I ride a recumbent trike most often. Sommer Livin, my trike, on a ride north to Lafayette April 7.

I also consulted my wife. She’s the finance person in our partnership, handles the household budget, and I would never spend hundreds of dollars without her agreement. Anyway, we both had come to the same conclusion. This is the end of the road for that trusty mountain bike.

One reason I opted not to repair The Fancy Beast is it’s simply an old bicycle. My son first acquired it during a summer internship about 2005 or so. It was passed on to a son-in-law before I ended up inheriting it some years ago. Granted, with care a bicycle will last longer than a automobile, but still, two decades is two decades. The Fancy Beast has served me well but is past its service date.

And, I have the many other ways to roll across the planet. In the right dry weather, the modestly wide tyres on Sommer Livin should be OK for the Sac and Fox Trail. To be honest, I won’t miss the cardiac test that flying down Mount Trashmore represents—and I can still cycle to it’s summit with the hybrid bike, I just have to use the tamer road trail to head back down instead of the mountain bike trail.

Time marches on and waits for no one and no thing. I have fond feelings for The Fancy Beast, and when I made the final decision to wheel it to the bike graveyard, well, it was a bit sad.

April 12--Awaiting the next trip to the county landfill, The Fancy Beast is in the bike graveyard under the sun room.

Yet the next day I have my new trike to cycle on, and that’s OK. Farewell, Fancy Beast. I’m afraid your time has passed. Still, I will continue to roll.

The weather has turned almost summer warm. I’ve been wearing shorts and bike sandals a lot on recent rides. I rolled 377.78 miles in March. As of April 15, when I first drafted this post, I have rolled 126.79 miles in a rainy April where weather has constrained riding some. The year to date in mid April was 880.72 miles—by the time I post this I probably will have exceeded 1,000 miles.

Some images from March and April rides:

March 31--Magnolia in bloom at MMU campus, seen on March 31 trike ride.

March 9--First ride north as far as Center Point--warm day.

On the trail to Lafayette March 9.

March 10--Sure sign of early warm days in spring, snake (above on below) seen on trike ride.

March 12--Eagle seen high in tree near MMU campus.

March 23--Deer bounding across Lindale Trail.

March 27--On Cedar River Trail at site of new biking bridge across Cedar River being constructed this yer.

March 27--Eagle soars over Cedar River.

March 31--Daffodils at Mount Mercy University Campus.

In Which Spring Comes and Goes

My trike parked at Troy Park in Robins. We were hosting a grandson that day and I rode to two parks for activities and a restaurant for lunch--adding up to 27 miles, one of my longer rides of February.

All these places had their moments
With lovers and friends, I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life, I've loved them all
“In My Life”—Beatles, Lennon and McCartney

Something about the second month of the year put me in a nostalgic mood. It was an unusual February in that, while that month is traditionally overlapping the coldest part of winter, this year it featured days of sharp contrast—some stretches that were too cold for an old man to bike or trike, some days where it was OK to bike with warm boots but triking was not practical and, finally, more than its share of warmer days that foreshadowed spring. It wasn’t just on the penultimate day of the month—one of the warmest—spring-like sunshine and warmth was sprinkled throughout the month.

Did the groundhog see his shadow? Some days, it seemed so. Some days it seemed not. Spring kept arriving early, then ducking out the back door for a sudden smoke break or something.

How else do I sum up February 2026? In January, I posted that I was seeking a name for my newest cycling vehicle, a recumbent tricycle. I’ll get to that topic again, soon, with an announcement.

February was, from a cycling point of view, a better month than January was. I rolled 267.35 miles, 72.45 miles on various bicycles and 194.9 on the trike. On Feb. 27, I rode 27.04 miles on the trike, which felt appropriate for a sunny, warm day. At the time, I thought it was my longest ride of the month but I was mistaken—I rode the trike for three rides that exceeded 25 miles in February, 25.14 miles Feb. 15 and 30.67 miles on Feb. 11.

Some images from two longer trike rides Feb. 11 and Feb. 15. This is Feb. 11, view of new fishing pier, I assume, on newly opened section of trail at Cedar Lake.

Feb. 11--Rest stop at Cedar Rapids Public Library, the main one downtown. Elementary art exhibit going on.

Lunch stop at Ellis Park on Feb. 11. I rode through the city on a trike with no name. For now.

Crossing Cedar River on Third Avenue bridge on my way north--watching young eagle.

New trail on east side of Cedar Lake. The sign says "closed," the many people using the trail said "it's actually open, don't believe every sign  you see." I rode on it Feb. 15.

I thought that I would set 30 miles as the next goal for March trike rides, forgetting that I had already exceeded 30 miles. Maybe 40 is the goal as I slowly ratchet up the distances.

On what? My wife is irritated by my habit of naming bicycles. I think of it as an homage to my mother, who had a habit of naming our family cars (although I don’t think all earned that honor—I don’t recalls that a trashy Ford station wagon we had for a few months ever earned a moniker, for example). Anyway, my oldest bike is The Fancy Beast, a mountain bike named because at the time I acquired it I had a less fancy old Schwinn mountain bike that I had called The Beast. My hybrid bike, which has a Tag-A-Long attachment and a bar to place a toddler seat on, is named Clarence—a direct call back to Clarissa, the 1959 VW chartreuse micro-bus that was the family car for the majority of the 1960s. My hybrid is the family bus, get it? The sleek road bike that I use for summer distance biking is Argent, because it’s a vaguely silver color.

I’ve never bothered to name the old red Schwinn tandem, but I don’t consider that to be one of “my” bikes, it’s more of a family fun bicycle.

Open coat on warm ride Feb. 16.

Trike in late afternoon light Feb. 16.

Warm February days make limestone trails unusable, mostly, at least to me. Not, apparently, to everyone. Part of Boyson Trail I didn't ride on Feb. 16.

Feb. 16--Warm enough today to wear biking sandals on trike ride.

Watching Connect CR bridge construction from detour, Feb. 5.

New bridge under construction over Cedar River, as part of expanding trail network in Cedar Rapids. Seen Feb. 5.

Start of detour around bridge construction Feb. 5.

Sunshine on The Fancy Beast, Feb. 4 ride.

Bike on trail on cool, grey day. Clarence on Feb. 25.

But the teal trike is definitely mine—and it’s my main cycling chariot these days. I asked on Facebook for some suggestions, and received several creative ideas. I’m sure none of the were serious—after all, this is not a serious issue to begin with. One friend suggested “Trixie.” Another “Lucky.” I’ve decided I’m not going to go with any stripper names. A family member suggested “Picasso” because it’s blue and I draw with it, which I thought was clever. Another person suggested “Day Tripper,” which was among the stronger ideas—a description of the trike’s use plus a nod to the Beatles.

Well, I like the Beatles reference. Which brings me to the name I have selected, both in honor of The Beatles and because a name connected to Buffy Anne Summers just feels whimsical and appropriate. The trike is a vehicle of my fourth quarter of life, and the switch to trike riding feels both fun and a fundamental reminder that life means coping with living in change.

So, the Beatles song the trike puts me in mind of is “In My Life.” The lyrics note that, among friends, “some are dead and some are living.” I’ll go with the living end of that spectrum, for now. And the trike is also a fair-weather vehicle, a summer cycle.

Meet “Sommer Livin.” Spelled badly, I know (again, this is me and I am a terrible speller). I’ll probably just refer to her (I don’t know why Clarence is a he and Sommer is a she, except Buffy, right?) as Sommer.

Sommer Livin, aka Sommer, parked at Ellis Park several weeks before being named.