In Which The Air Is Just So

Dry Creek, March 9, 2018. A bit of ice on the creek as the sun starts to rise on a chilly March morning. My phone said it was 18 degrees.

March: In between winter and spring, and right now winter rules the mornings.

The ice melted a while ago on the C Avenue pond that I ride by each morning on my commute—but it was 18 today, with little wind. In the cold, still air, a thin layer of ice had again formed, and the pond was mostly frozen over, except for one small open patch where a rather chilly looking duck slowly moved.

Pond on C Avenue--not sure you can see it well, but a thin layer of ice has formed on this cold morning.

Tiny bit of open water with a cold looking duck.

I rode Clarence this morning, for the second time this week. On Wednesday I had ridden the mountain bike, but Thursday and today it was clear enough for the hybrid.

I was gambling that the pavement would be clear, and for the most part I won. I should have gone directly to campus, but was drawn by the cool but pretty morning to take the trail. I encountered some snow in Noelridge Park, but otherwise the way was clear.

Two views from Noelridge Park. A bit of snow on the bridge at the east end. Nearer the west end, where the community flowers gardens are, two geese stroll during the cold morning.

And the morning ride was cold. My toes were suffering a bit by the time I got to campus.

Bridge work along the trail. I thought the crane looked pretty in the morning.

View of artwork in garden behind Warde Hall, near where my bike was parked this morning.

The afternoon was also cool, but probably 30 degrees, which is better than 18. The ride home was still chilly, however. But, the March sun had warmed the city enough that the pond which was frozen in the morning had thawed again by 5:15 p.m.

C Avenue pond again, in the afternoon, almost the same spot. Water after sun was shining on the ice all day.

March—it’s not very much like spring yet, but you can tell it’s coming. Meanwhile, the air is just at that point where it will freeze ponds in the morning, and melt the ice by afternoon. This weekend, we have the spring time change—may it be a sign that the weather will soon make the turn from the frozen season to the time of new growth and more pleasant bike rides.

In Which We Get Lost Finding Butterflies

Marlon (above) reacts to having his picture taken. Three students and I (below) in official CR Biker Bike Club Ussie before ride.

Ride 2 of the MMU Bike Club: Marlon expresses his displeasure at having his photo taken, and then organizes our small crew for the photo.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“We are going wherever you lead us,” Marlon answers.

So, instead of going south along Cedar Lake, I take the three students north on the Cedar River Trail. We are supposed to return to campus by close to 5, so it can’t be a long ride. Along the way, at a construction zone, I accidently turned into a street rather than the trail, so for about 10 seconds, they proved the folly of following my leadership as we were briefly lost. Still, the trail was never out of sight, and the point was to ride, right? There were perhaps a few sarcastic remarks as we made pointless parking lot loop, but I consider that all fair comment.

Then, at 42nd Street, I ask if we turn around or push on to go to Noelridge Park.

“We push on,” Marlon answered. “We’ve only been riding for 15 minutes.”

He is a man of few words, but they do work.

We rode on. I was on Clarence, my commuting hybrid bicycle, while they were on the heavier, older hybrids or mountain bikes owned by MMU. I was pushing it a bit, and asked if they liked the speed. They were fine. Those youngsters on their heavy, slow, old bikes have no trouble keeping up with an oldster on a much lighter, faster bike.

Well, there must be a reason CR Biker rides bike tours but never a bike race.

Anyway, we continued north until the side street that leads to the back end of St. Pius X. We went to the next short street just south of the church that cuts over to the north end of Noelridge—I was taking them, as a destination, to the city flower gardens.

The young woman on the ride, a local, had been there before, but not the two men. They did enjoy the flower beds. However, I wasn’t aware of the Monarch breeding area, and the woman with us was, so when she pointed them out we rolled across the grass to go see them.

On Cedar River Trail heading north. Besides mocking me for getting them lots, students noted I was often not pointing camera at them--it's not easy to shoot over your shoulder while riding a bike. This one worked.

At Noelridge Park. If you look at upper part of picture, you can see butterflies undergoing metamorphosis.Student (below) takes unofficial Bike Club Ussie.

And, they were very cool. They are mesh shelters protecting clumps of Milkweed plants used to breed butterflies. At first, I didn’t notice any butterflies—and it was the woman with us who again had to point out the sight—she noted the multitude of chrysalises hanging from the tops of the shelters.

Hmmm. It puts the bug back in my ear. Milkweed planting time is later in the fall just before the ground freezes, in this climate—I think it is time to revive the MMU pollinator garden project. Maybe we can get seeds in the ground this year…

Anyway, we headed back to campus. This second  club ride was shorter—about 8 miles, compared to the 15-mile ride the club took last week, but we needed to get back earlier, too.

Ride 2, I think, was very nice, butterfly nice. And now I have a cool idea for a project to try to sell to the club …

Sun streaming down on our way back to campus. Nice afternoon for a ride!

In Which Rain Finds CR Biker

Boyson Trail Tuesday morning. I like paved trails on my road bike, but have to admit I throw caution to the wind and ride this trail.

I rode my bike Tuesday in the morning, rather than going to the gym, and enjoyed the ride. Later, my wife and I picked up some swing set anchors she had ordered, and went out to lunch.

Clouds were moving in, but I thought the forecast was for storms later in the day. I had locked my bike outside, anticipating another ride Tuesday.

Well, you know what happened. The sky opened and rain poured down. After we got home, I wiped the bike off and lubed the chain before putting it away in the garage.

Heading up C Avenue Tuesday afternoon--interesting sky.

I had planned to pedal to campus in the afternoon to help week a veggie garden, but took an afternoon siesta that turned out a bit longer than I expected—I fell asleep about 1 and didn’t wake up until 3:30.

And went out in the back yard and installed the anchors to make the new swing set officially done.

It was almost 5, but I still wanted another ride, so off I went. The sky looked a bit iffy—patches of blue, patches of white, patches of grey, some rather bubbly looking clouds soaring overhead like giant heads of cauliflower. You don’t necessarily want an “interesting” sky for a bicycle ride.

Anyway, I decided to stick not too far from home. I rode up the Brentwood Drive hill, and then headed up to the Lindale Trail. I was hankering for more miles and no rain had fallen, so I thought I might head over to the Cedar River trail via Noelridge Park.

On the way, as I was crossing the Rockwell-Collins parking lot to the F Avenue-Collins Road intersection, a cloud opened up and rain came pelting down. Rain, when the drops are big, stings. I was a hot, humid afternoon, but rain is also cold.

It was, briefly, rather uncomfortable. But the rain was a brief event, and, thankfully, there was no hail nor lightning.

Getting ready to cross Collins Road at F Avenue. Rain is ending, it was quick and intense, but I'm glad it was over soon.

As I crossed Noelridge Park, baseball teams were practicing at ball diamonds and soccer teams were kicking balls around. I wasn’t the only one braving the chance of rain.

I did, however, turn back at Noelridge Park. I thought discretion was the better part of valor, and, anyway, it was getting later in the afternoon and I didn’t mind the idea of going home for supper.

About 20 miles for Tuesday. Not as many as I would have gotten if I woke up earlier and helped weed the garden, but not a bad number for a stormy day.

In Which I Visit Slick & Icy Places

Sun setting at Noelridge Park.

Ten degrees this morning—it was a bit warmer than Monday, when last I bicycled. Tuesday, there was a slight dusting of new snow on the ground, plus a wind chill of 20 degrees below. So I drove then, but rode today.

It was grey and cool in the morning, but not bad. I was ready to head home at about 4. The cloudy morning had turned into a warmer afternoon, still below freezing, but warm compared to recent days.

So, I decided to take the longer bike trail route home. The city has done a decent job clearing the trail of snow—unlike in past snowfalls, even the places where the trail crosses streets are clear. I had a fairly pleasant, scenic ride. There were a few joggers on the Cedar River Trail, but for the most part I was alone in the fading, pink light of day. On McLeon Run, a group of ducks (what is a group of ducks called?) was swimming in the still open water.

Dry Creek behind my house is mostly frozen over, but McLeon Run is still running, With ducks.

To get home from the trail, I took the route that leads to the St. Pius X neighborhood, in which I cross Noelridge Park via its northern sidewalk. While the sidewalk has been fairly well cleared, the park is where I ran into trouble.

I took some pictures of the park’s creek, where the city is installing some native vegetation—but just east of the creek, there had been some thawing and refreezing after the sidewalk had been cleared. A sort of shallow pond had formed, and but froze over the sidewalk, and I rode across it.

Francis on the bridge at the park--shot this before the near death experiences.

That was a mistake. There is an icy spot on the sidewalk of C Avenue that I walk each morning, and I should have done that here. As I rode on this icy sidewalk, my bike gave a sudden lurch—it lost traction and slipped.

Well, blog fans, I’ve hurt myself that way before, and I have vowed never to again ride a bicycle on ice. I guess the pond was so small, and I just wanted to get home.

The potential tale of broken tailbones has a happy ending, however. The slip did not lead to fall. I crossed the ice intact, if a bit shaken, and paused to make an image of the tracks made by my snowy transit.

See my tracks? They are  the set on the left leading directly cross that ice. Silly me.

Then, behind the middle school whose grounds I cross on this route, there is a sidewalk that has not been cleared at all in recent snows. I wasn’t foolish enough to even try biking there, I simply walked my bike. I walked it very slowly. Actually, I sort of slid my feet and kept a grip on Francis, who kept trying to slide away to the right and tumble. I honestly think I came closer to a banged up knee walking across that slick layer of snow topped by ice than I did when riding on the ice of Noelridge Park, and I was glad I was wearing rubber snow boots rather than my usual biking shoes—I had donned them for warmth, but I appreciated the extra traction. Again, despite potentially offending the Angry Demons of Winter Falling, I successfully negotiated the icy walk with only hypothetical, imaginary falls.

The imaginary falls terrified me, to be honest.

Creeks seem to be the theme of this post. This one is just east of the middle school. I'm pausing on a bridge, screwing my courage up for the slide across the rest of the tundra, because, below, you can see what my route looked like. I slid my booted feet across that landscape, hanging on to an unstable bike that just want to lie down. We both made it, but holey moley it was exciting.

Ninety-five percent of the ride was quite pleasant, on bare pavement through quiet, pretty winter scenery. The other 5 percent convinced me, however, that—until the spring thaw—I won’t be taking the middle school-Noelridge Park route to the Cedar River Trail.

There are other ways to get there that won’t involve crossing school grounds or parks on frozen ponds. It might be a few days before I try one of those routes—I probably won’t have time for a trail ride Thursday, although it’s pretty likely I will be riding my bike. Friday the weather gets dicey—and if I did have one lesson reinforced by today’s exciting frozen water adventures, it’s don’t mess with ice.

Message heard, Mother Nature, message heard.

In Which Ben Has The Longest Ride of his Life

I had not planned to stop on the morning ride, which was meant to be fairly brief, but when we went past the playground, Amelia started excitedly yelling "Grandpa! Park!" So we stopped so she could play at the park.

50 miles, blog pals, that’s how far CR Biker rode Friday. Four miles were in the morning, when I took my granddaughter Amelia to a playground near the splash pad at Noelridge Park, and then tooddled around the park before heading home.

The other 46? That was the epic ride. I suggested to Ben that we go on a bike adventure, since he was home and, with Jon’s bike now working, we had two men’s bikes at our disposal. He agreed, and ventured up Devonshire to learn how the controls on Jon’s bike work.

Why did I chose to let him ride Jon’s bike? I could have ridden it, and he could have ridden my bike—from a speed point of view, putting the younger, stronger person on the bigger, slower hybrid bike would make sense. But, while I don’t mind using Jon’s bike, I want to use it gently. So I offered Ben the bike because his lesser mass would not be as hard on the bike. Plus, I need practice miles on Francis anyway.


I texted my sister Cate, who is also in prep for RAGBRAI, and she was available, so off we went, meeting her about noon at the Boyson Road trail head. Our original goal was to go to the rail station in Center Point, a place further north than Ben had ever been on the trail.

Cate, Ben and I at the Boyson Trail head after the ride.

Once there, we stopped to water up and eat some snacks. I am even more in debt to Cate, as she shared a chocolate caffeine shot and some nuts, which I’m sure made my granola bar and fun fruits more effective. We decided to continue north, at least to Urbana, with the thought that once there, we might head to Brandon.

Well, the trail north of Center Point proved very tricky. Recent rains have been very hard on its limestone surface, with at least one awesome trench at a road crossing, and many soft, sandy spots. By the time we got to Urbana, we were just glad Ben had no mishaps with the narrow tires of Jon’s road bike, and decided it was good enough, we would head back.

The round trip to Urbana was over 40 miles. That, plus the round trip to my house and the round trip Amelia and I had done earlier added up to the 50 miles.

It was a fun ride, through the heat of the afternoon, which made it good RAGBRAI training. However, it was a bit rough on me—my legs were definitely worn. It was Ben’s longest ride so far. When we got back to the rail depot in Center Point, I did offer to trade him bikes, but he just laughed and got back on Jon’s. Imagine.

The ride, while by far my longest yet, was far sort of even the shortest RAGBRAI day—although at 50 miles, it’s at least in the range of a RAGBRAI day. So why am I even able to do RAGBRAI? Well, for one thing, the rhythm of RAGBRAI is: Ride 15 miles, stop and eat pie and walk for a mile; then ride 15 miles, stop and eat a pork chop; repeat until 60 miles are done.  If they had served pie in the rail depot, it would have been a different sort of ride.

I’ll eat more on RAGBRAI, and also consume electrolyte drink along with water. On my future long practice rides this week, I plan to do the same thing—take more food and take some drink mix.

Despite being sore, this morning on the way to the gym I did a figure 8 in the neighborhood, climbing the Brentwood Drive hill twice, once headed north, once south. So, despite the soreness yesterday, and losing the rear light on my bike north of Center Point, I think I'm doing OK in RAGBRAI prep.

And Ben, next time, remember. I’m not kidding. I am totally willing to trade bikes.

This photo and one below--samples of trail conditions north of Center Point.

Quaint bridge over trail north of Center Point.

The trail goes under I-380 in a narrow, dark tunnel. The north entrance is above, as we head south. The photo below does not do it justice--to the human eye it is much, much darker in there.

Wednesday Lunch Ride With The Sleepy Passenger

Rain, accompanied by a plunge in temperature, was in the forecast, so I drove today.  I should have biked.  I arrived before the rain, and it’s over and I’m still at work.

Well, I had 11 activity bags to take to campus this morning for my and my wife’s combined freshman intro class, so I suppose driving was not a crazy thing to do.

Anyway, Wednesday was the final day of our warm faux late summer.  I had been out late Tuesday night—attending a city council meeting with a writing class—and worked for 4 hours Wednesday morning, so I felt justified in meeting the grandkids for a long lunch at Noelridge Park.

After fueling my body with crackers and cheese, I put the toddler seat on the bike, and Tristan and I took off on a ride.  It was warm and humid, so warm that I wished I had taken a water supply with me.

But, I survived.  We headed south to Cedar Lake on the Cedar River Trail.  The first half of the trip was narrated in Tristan’s cute 2-year-old voice, pointing out the birds, but mostly the train tracks, which had to be pointed out because that’s were Thomas would be going chucka-chucka-choo-choo.

Trust me, the narration was even cuter in person.  He was super excited when we neared the lake, as the train tracks multiplied and several strings of cars, each a “Thomas,” came into view.

Anyway, halfway around Cedar Lake, the pleasant patter died out.  And a weight grew heavy on my right arm—a little boy’s helmet was nestling there.  As we rode along the trail, Mr. T fell asleep.

He stayed asleep as I headed north, returned to Noeldridge Park, then headed through the Rockwell Collins parking lots towards C Avenue.  He awoke 35 minutes later as we crossed Blair’s Ferry.

Missing half the ride didn’t seem to bother him a bit.  The narration took off where it had left off, his only concern was that he wasn’t sure where Thomas could go chucka-chucka-choo-choo anymore.

Well, I envied him.  I worked on some assignments later Wednesday, a lecture for class and a newspaper critique after he went home.  I also had to return to campus to get my files—and didn’t get a text from Audrey in time to learn I had to bring the minivan to load up a wheelchair for a program she was doing today.

So, I had one extra bike ride to campus on the last warm day before late fall.  I guess that makes up for today.  Now, if only I could figure out how to nap on the bike …

Windy Ride to Noelridge Park

CR wants to be a biker friendly town, and I want it to be, too. Here's a minor problem to work on--why are some CR parks so isolated form a biking point of view?

Met my grandkids Friday for a fun dip at Noelridge Park Pool, but getting there was a minor pain. Once I cross Collins at F, there is no route to the park without going on some busy CR street--Old Marion Road is not my ideal riding place.

I used to cheat by cutting through a parking lot at Summit School, but there's a nearby CR middle school and Summit got wise to that shortcut and cut it off with a fence--I assume they were more concerned with middle school traffic than an occasional old biker, but who knows?

Anyway, CR--think about creating a crossing light east of Noelridge (and across Center Point Road) to lead from the Cedar River trail to the park. The park is in a concrete island, hard to access by bike, and it's a nice place that should be bike friendly.

Despite the relative isolation of the park, there are lots of kids' bikes at the pool--which is a bit worrisome. How are they getting there? And how safe it that?

The Bridge To the Great Beyond

I wrote about it on my other blog, and if you want a blog post that's a bit of a downer, it's available here.

But, I won't blog here about loss.

I rode twice to campus today, which makes it a 20-mile day. The second time, I left around 7 and met Audrey and the grandkids at Noelridge Park.

They had been there for some time, so it was only a few minutes before we all left--they in the van to pick up some quick pizza for supper, me on bike. I made it home first, by the way.

Snapped this photo of a pedestrian bridge at Noelridge for this blog, although I ended up using it as a sort of a sybmol of the bridge to the afterlife in my other blog.

The route from MMU to the park was a bit meandering, as I don't really know the way. From the park to home, I'm in more familiar territory, although two school parking lots I used to cut through were both shut off.

Oh well, made it safe and sound, and got this cool photo on the way, too.