CR Biker: 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.