CR Biker: In Which the Fall Precedes the Shuffle

Wednesday afternoon--milky sunshine on Cedar River Trail near Cedar Lake.

The problem with C Avenue right now, from a biker’s point of view, is that the sidewalk from north of Walgreens to the corner of Brentwood Drive is almost 100 percent ice covered.

Here and there, a bit of pavement peeks out, and some patches feature bumpy ice. Trust me, if you have to move on ice, you appreciate some bumps. But the many slick spots are scary, especially since this stretch of C Avenue is on an incline.

It’s one thing to navigate ice. Ice on a hill is much more intense.

Thursday afternoon view of ice on C Avenue sidewalk. I'm walking my bicycle.

I rode today and Wednesday in this late Iowa winter. The streets on my commuting route are sometimes narrow, but basically nice, bare pavement.

Some sidewalks, on the other hand, are far from fine, and that explains the fall.

The first year I rode RAGBRAI, my training was somewhat constrained by a very sore knee that was slow to heel. That winter, I had slipped while riding on a patch of ice on F Avenue, and after that, I vowed to be more careful.

But nevertheless, he persisted. And he fell.

Some things have changed since in the years since my pre-RAGBRAI tumble. Then, I owned one bicycle, a rather heavy, tall hybrid. I’m amazed looking back how that was the bicycle that first carried me across Iowa.

That hybrid bike had relatively narrow tyres, and a tallish frame—neither condition is helpful on slick surfaces. I landed very hard on my left knee back then, which was sore for months.

Today, I’m a bit more careful. I have three bicycles—a hybrid for nice weather commuting, a road bike for fun and RAGBRAI, and a mountain bike. In winter, I only ride if streets like F Avenue are mostly free of ice, and in winter, I ride the mountain bike with its nice wide tyres.

Wednesday was cold with some clouds in the sky, but there was milky sunshine. I decided to ride the Cedar River Trail home, there to do my first lake check of this young spring riding season, and to enjoy the relatively clear trail.

Looking north from point where creek enters lake.

Clear trail near Cedar Lake. Despite chill, a pretty day.

Cedar Lake in winter.

The ride went well, before the crash. While a bit stark in in winter there is still beauty at Cedar Lake. After circling it and heading north, I enjoyed the late afternoon light peeking through the clouds. I thought the view from the railroad bridge north of Collins Road was particularly pretty.

Pretty light looking down from bridge over tracks.

Well, I went north to Hiawatha, and then headed east to get home. I arrived at Council Street, and turned south. At first, the sidewalk was bare, but I saw ice between me and the Dry Creek Bridge.

And that’s where it happened.

I had ridden the C Avenue sidewalk ice that morning, although I was not sure it was a good idea. My approach to ice riding is to shift down and slow down. I had been in 3 in front, 4 in back, and shifted in to 2-2, a gear I usually use for moderate hill climbing.

So when I reached a particularly polished patch of smooth ice, and my rear wheel slipped violently to the right and the whole bike fell and skittered away from me across the frozen water, I was moving very slowly.

When I had the pre-RAGBRAI fall years ago, it felt instantaneous—no reaction time. I was riding along F Avenue, and the next instant I was on the ground, wondering if I had broken a bone and feeling like maybe I had (I hadn’t, but as I noted, my left knee was angry with me for months).

This fall of March 2019 was not as dramatic. I was moving so slowly that, although I could not prevent the fall, I could sense it and experience it. The slip, the spill, the sprawling on the ground took maybe a tenth of a second, but that was long enough for me to be aware of the whole thing.

After the fall. My Fancy Beast winter bike on the ground.

As I was falling backwards, I spread out my arms and arched my neck. The landing was a bit hard—on ice—but I managed to take the landing in some stages, sort of rolling to the ground rather than crashing all at once. I was wearing a helmet, but by the time my head was landing, I had already eaten up most of the momentum—I didn’t even bang my head, just sort of gently put it down on the ice.

I was also wearing a backpack with a briefcase inside it, and I think that acted as fall-breaking padding.

There I was, on the ground on my back, barely touching the bicycle, which was also laying on the sidewalk.

Well. Assess first. Anything horribly sore? My left leg felt bad, but it seemed to be muscle soreness in the big muscle in back at the top of the leg, and I think maybe I just was able to tune into that ache because I was checking in with my body. The leg was sore, but that muscle soreness was probably just from a longish ride early in the training season—it didn’t seem to be a consequence of the fall.

It took some time for me to struggle to my feet. I’m an old man and don’t stand up well from the floor when I’m indoors, let alone stretched out on slick ice. I managed to stand and managed to pull my bike up. I was sore, as noted, but not really harmed by the fall. The bicycle appeared unscathed—all I had to do was readjust the rearview mirror.

Well. I decided to heed the universe’s message, and walked the rest of the ice. Later, I would end up hiking that half mile across the ice sheet that is the C Avenue sidewalk.

I had to walk that walk on C Avenue again today. Even with snow boots, it’s a bit scary. Still, no spills yet on C Avenue, knock on wood.

And I guess Wednesday’s fall could was not all that traumatic. Thursday, I rode again. Although this time, I was quicker to dismount and walk across the icy places.

The Council Street fall taught me the utility of the ice shuffle.