In Which We Ride Dowtown

Group image before the ride.

When you’re alone and life is making you lonely, you can always go … downtown. So I am starting with an homage to Petula Clark. If you’re old like me, you’re welcome for the earworm.

On Friday, Bike Club went for a ride, the first regular ride of the fall semester. There were five students on the ride, and although they all resisted my excellent advice that helmets are a good idea, it was a warm, pleasant afternoon for a quick, refreshing ride.

I suggested heading down to Greene Square in downtown Cedar Rapids for our ride, and the students like the idea. However, a passing gentleman who was looking for the music department snapped our pre-ride group picture and suggested the CEMAR trail.

Hmmm. But that newish trail doesn’t really go anywhere besides the Plaster Complex, so we stuck with our original Greene Square plan.

I was riding my hybrid bike, and was in the lead. We headed down the Hill.

I have a several advantages on downhills—my bicycle rolls with less resistance than the heavier bikes MMU owns, so the lightness of my bike is one advantage. Then there is the overall weight of the rider. Gravitational acceleration is a constant no matter the weight, but increased mass of a biker does help with more force that does more to overcome air resistance, or something like that. I don’t know, I’m a writer. But anyway, I have often observed, with many, many field trials that fat old men can zoom down a hill more efficiently than most other bikers.

And I presume the advantage comes more from “fat” than from “old,” although maybe old men can afford better bicycles, but that’s an untested assumption.

Anyway, I ended up well ahead of the students and found myself waiting now and then. Perhaps my helmet just made me more aerodynamic, too.

Riding along Cedar Lake. I got ahead and stop to make image of club riders as they approach. And no, the student on the left did not ride on the grass, I think she is coming over to check on me, as a young person who protects old people.

We rode along the west edge of Cedar Lake and then headed downtown. It was humid and warm, and I think I was the only rider with a water bottle, so when we got to Green Square, the agenda item was drinks at the water fountain by the trail. We then rode slowly through the park (I went through the splash pad, but I think most students went around. Well, they weren’t wearing helmets.)

Chatting after getting drinks and before heading back t campus.

On the way back to campus, two of the students were chatting. We had seen a woman who was not in our group take a minor tumble—nothing serious, and she had friends to aid her, although what went through my mind was “students, did you notice she has a helmet on?”

Anyway, one of the students was telling another something about what happens when she is with “old people.” I was right behind them, and did caution the student, jokingly, about what would be said next. It turns out the speaking student works with elderly people in a nursing home and feels obligated to protectively look after them.

Well, that seems nice. Says the old man.

Long shadows by Cedar Lake on our way back to campus.

Overall, it was a very agreeable ride. My Bike Club leader rejected the idea, for now, of riding up Mt. Trashmore, but we’ll see.

Finally, before the ride, we noted that a seat and seat post had been removed from one bicycle. Another bike is completely gone—bike seven may have been stolen, we presume. Blah. Earlier this semester, we lost a bike that had been left locked along the Cedar River Trail and was damaged beyond repair. Now, sadly, bad things are starting to happen to bikes right on campus.

That’s not an uplifting note to end on, I’m sure. But despite the unpleasant reminders of the darker side of human nature, the first club ride was very nice, and more MMU Bike Club rides are to come. Watch the MMU app for times, as the club will probably vary its rides so that students who were at athletic practices late on a Friday afternoon can participate.

And we may ride downtown again:

In Which We Say Goodbye and Hello to Bike 3

Bike 3, locked to the fence, missing a broken rear wheel. To what use is a broken wheel?

Sunday: We, the MMU Bike Club, had a fun ride to Dairy Queen in Hiawatha. But along the Cedar River Trail, the back axle of one bike snapped, ending the ride for one student. Another student used Snapchat to share her location, and the Bike Club president and an orientation leader showed up in a car for a rescue.

So that part of the story had a happy ending.

We locked the bike to a fence, planning to get it later—and, in retrospect, I should have gone back that night. Because when the Bike Club president and I loaded up some Mount Mercy University bicycles to take to the bike shop for repairs Friday, and we went to the trail to rescue Bicycle Number 3, a sad sight awaited us.

Bike 3 had been attacked. The rear wheel (which, if you’re following along at home, had a broken axle) had been ripped off, with the bike's chain broken in the process. The bike lock itself appeared to have saw marks on it, but was not broken.

A new wheel, control cables for the rear, a new rear derailleur, tire, tube, etc.: it would have cost $275 to repair Bike 3. A new bicycle of the same make and style is about $350. At that price differential, I didn’t think it fiscally wise to repair Bike 3, and the student Bike Club president, who was with me, agreed.

It’s not clear for sure that we will buy a new Bike 3. In fact, because I took in an old bicycle that I own to be serviced and donated to MMU, the Bike Club may already have a new Bike 3.

But, goodbye, old Bike 3. Your fate was a bit sad. It’s hard to imagine the mind of a determined thief who would expend the time and effort to break a chain to steal the broken rear wheel of a rather marginal old bicycle—but there you have it. If it’s not nailed down, it can be stolen—and if it is nailed down, some people would pull nails or break chains even if the prize seems of little value.

And welcome, new Bike 3. It’s a mountain bike that is sturdy, was my youngest son’s when he was in high school, and served me as my winter beater bicycle until I switched to another, higher quality used mountain bike. The Beast, may you enjoy second life as MMU Bike 3. And old MMU Bike 3, a sad farewell to thee.

In Which I Confess Criminal Tendencies

I hope that the CRPD isn’t reading my blog too closely—I may come close to admitting a few crimes.

Not serious ones, mind you. Not kicking puppies or stealing cookies from HyVee. But, by their nature, traffic laws were written mostly to control cars, and by their nature, bikes and bike riders have some problems following them.

That is sometimes a source of friction for car drivers who don’t appreciate bikers. My own philosophy is that wherever I’m biking, I’m to some extent borrower turf from someone. If I’m on a trail or sidewalk, I owe pedestrians the respect of an audible warning if I’m approaching from behind, and plenty of room if I’m passing the other way. The walkway belongs first to them.

If I’m on the street, I try to cycle in a way that doesn’t obstruct or bother motorized vehicle drivers. However, I do think it’s important to note that streets were originally built for horses and carriages and then bicycles—in the scheme of things, historically, cars are borrowing the street from me. Those of us on two wheels were there first.

Practically, however, that doesn’t mean much. As a biker, I am a much quieter, slower and smaller vehicle than any car or motorcycle. I can easily get in the way but not be seen or heard. For my own safety, I can’t pretend that I own the streets.

So where does crime come in?

First of all, many bikers, including yours truly, will do “California,” or rolling stops at some stop signs. I don’t at any busy intersection, and certainly I don’t at any 4-way stop when a car is on the other street. But as a biker, I can see and hear differently than people driving cars can. I have better peripheral vision and I’m out in the open with my ears tuned only to birds and traffic. Trust me, car drivers, even if you’re in a Prius, you’re noisy compared to a bike, and I’ll hear you long before I see you. So, if I’m at the corner of, say, Lindale and 27^th Street, do I come to a complete stop at the stop sign?

Sure. If I hear a car …

You could argue that the CRPD should ticket me next time I do a rolling stop just to teach us bikers a lesson. I would think you’re nuts, but you could argue it. The next piece of scofflawery, I think, is more systemic. I have less choice in the matter if I am to bike in Cedar Rapids. Sometimes, inevitably, to get from here to there, I will run a red light.

Gasp! The horror! Before you drivers pick up torches and pitchforks (or tar and feathers), let me explain.

Many traffic lights these days are controlled by sensors in the street. Those sensors are not sensitive enough to respond to a 280-pound weight (me on a 30 pound bike). If I am to cross, say, Old Marion Road at F Avenue, I’m either waiting for a car or running the light when I think it’s clear.

Please don’t think less of me, but what, honestly, would you do? You’d run the light, too.

At Collins Road and F Avenue, I have more patience. But I do “steal” the light. Let’s say I’m headed north, going home in the afternoon. Rockwell Collins employees will be doing the same thing, but they’ll be exiting Rockwell Collins, headed south.

Their SUVs and cars will trigger the light. And when the Collins Road lights glow red, there will be a 2-second delay before their southbound F Avenue light turns green.

That’s when CR Biker steals the light—crossing when my light is red, but only because my light will never turn green until a car comes along going my way.

Be very careful if you ever “steal the light” at this corner—you have to watch the traffic and make sure no Collins Road driver is going through a “pink” light, or that no left-turner is jumping the gun. You have to watch both Collins Road lights—usually, one turns red and a left turn signal comes on for the other direction on Collins before the F Avenue cycle starts. So you have to know both the lights and the traffic patterns.

But if you do know the light, you’ll steal the light, too. It’s what all bikers do because we have to. Even if, historically, we were there “first,” traffic control lights are car-friendly and not bike-friendly, and many corners don’t have accessible pedestrian signal lights that bikers could use (I do use pedestrian lights if they are available and accessible, but sometimes they are there but not useful, like at F and Old Marion where there is a cross light, but one you can’t reach from a bike).

CR wants to be a bike friendly town. Figuring out a way to make traffic signals bike friendly would solve a lot of my biking-in-the-city problems.

Anyway, I’m hoping my crime confessions won’t get me in too much trouble. We’ll see.