In Which the Hills Are Alive With the Sound of Panting

About 7:45 p.m. Tuesday--late ride on Boyson Trail. I thought the light in the trees was pretty.

Puff-puff-puff—the loud sound of me, going uphill.

The rides so far this week have not been long. I rode to campus Monday and did a quick 12-mile ride late Tuesday after spending the day in Ames.

So, I emphasized hills. In the short Tuesday ride, I climbed the Bowman Woods Hill 5 times. I did the same number of climbs of the MMU hill late Monday morning when I arrived on campus—and had done earlier climbs in Bowman Woods.

I have to say, it was too bad I had the meeting in Ames today. Not that it was a bad meeting, but I noticed on Facebook that my sister had ridden more than 40 miles, and today seemed the day for it. At least I did get some hill practice in.

And as you can see, during this one gorgeous week during what promises to be a very hot summer, Iowa was indeed a pretty place to be.

During my ride home Monday, I passed a cluster of Milkweed plants behind the shopping complex at C Avenue and Boyson Road. Butterfly visits Milkweed.

Late Monday morning--I think I arrived on campus about 11 a.m. Two views of many flowering plants added to garden by Rohde Family Plaza at Mount Mercy University.

In Which I Wonder About Witchy Signs

Two views of the same sign on a street at the top of the Bowman Woods Hill. I've noticed these signs in several places, though. What do they mean?

Is it a cult? Is it a sign of Satanic practices?

No. It has “CR” markings on it, so the odd three-stick flag figure means something to the City of Cedar Rapids. These odd things have appeared in the grassy strip beside the street in my neighborhood, and I can’t figure out what they mean.

“Do not disturb,” the sign says. But it disturbs me. Something is afoot. What is it?

I took photos on my morning bike ride to the gym. Now that summer is here, the ride includes a short “figure 8” so that I can climb my neighborhood hill twice each morning. I plan to climb that hill a lot—it’s the best one around for RAGBRAI training.

And for pondering. What do the signs mean? I e-mailed the city to ask. I’ll update when I find out. In the meantime I am willing to attribute them to a group of local witches, something CR is well known for (recall the dust up with the state legislature over Wicca prayers?) I hope they're good witches, and potentially hot, like Charmed witches and not mean and green like half of the Oz witches.

Update later that day: The signs are to aid surveyors working on city projects, apparently. So says an e-mail the city sent me:

In Which I Meet A Town of Sellers and Ride 80+ Miles

Curb sign in Guttenberg. Just wait a week and a half!

Well, blog pals, the pace of my biking-RAGBRAI prep, plus getting stuff done before I’m gone from home for a week, has put me behind in blogging.

It’s been an eventful few days—including an epic final practice ride that hints the century loop may be possible, and a scouting expedition to the Land Where Everyone Sells.

First, the scouting expedition: My wife, my sister, my sister-in-law and I all went to the pretty Mississippi River village of Guttenberg Saturday. Our main point was to make ourselves a bit more familiar with the village where RAGBRAI ends this year.

It was an interesting trip. For RAGBRAI, Guttenberg is one of many tiny towns on this year’s route—it is an especially small place for the bike ride to end. Like many Mississippi River towns, the village is both a bit aged and shabby, and also very pretty. Even if the glory days of the 19th century are long gone, the buildings and beautiful river front, and, especially, the river, are still there.

Where we didn't eat lunch, but saw the "lunch" sign. A week at the River Park Place doesn't sound like a bad idea.

We walked around and admired the old bikes used as decorative flourishes, obviously in prep for RAGBRAI. It was getting close to 1 p.m., and one storefront was labeled “lunch.” We were just thinking about that, when the lady of the house snagged us and almost forced us inside. They weren't serving lunch anymore, she just wanted to visit and show off her business and give us advice on what to do in tiny G. She runs a restaurant, bed-and-breakfast, party place spread through three gorgeous old buildings. An apartment can be rented there for $500 a week—and I think it would be a tempting get away.

Not sure it’s a great town for biking, however—I didn't see any trails and, like most Mississippi River towns, it’s located in the hilliest area of Iowa. Note to any East Coast or West Coast readers—Iowa is not Kansas, it’s generally not flat, but it’s topography is like a slightly wrinkly bed sheet—no mountains, but lots of rolling hills and river valleys that you slide down into and then have to climb out of if by chance you cross the state on two wheels. And the hilliest of those hills are associated with the mightiest of those rivers on Iowa’s East Coast (granted, there are hills in the west, too, but western Iowa is a bit flatter than eastern Iowa).

Anyway, we really enjoyed our somewhat commercial tour. She and her partner were friendly folk. We had a pleasant tour, but wanted to find a place were “lunch” was available after 1 p.m.

So, we strolled down the main drag, across the street from the main river of the United States, and ended up at Joe’s Pizza. One member of our party ordered a small pineapple and Canadian bacon pizza, while the other three of us split a larger “Joe” pizza. Joe approved. And a fellow diner was full of suggestions for Guttenberg attractions. It felt a little like we were trapped in a town of car sales people, except they were more pleasant, less pushy and more supportive of each other than your typical car lot steel pusher.

An Amish baker at a farmer's market along the river gave us a sample doughnut to share. He was nice, but a bit pushy in trying to sell his wares--just like the rest of Guttenberg. The place clearly lives on tourists. The doughnut was very good.

The town of Guttenberg is a bit isolated by high hills and the river. I didn’t see any bridge, so there is, as far as I can tell, no way in from Illinois. One U.S. highway enters town, and on the final day of RAGBRAI, when 12,000 cars try to enter town, the traffic jam will be a bit more intense than the mall during the best Christmas shopping season ever.

The lady at “lunch” noted that more than 400 vehicles had registered to park in town. If I had been eating, I might have sputtered at that point. Trust me, Little G, 400 is a tiny, tiny minority of the vehicles you will see—although I bet you already know that.

During our walking and scouting, we picked a church with tall twin spires located south of the bike route (which cleaves the town mostly in two and eliminates most potential parking) to try to meet up at.

A picture of the "other" pizza joint, that we din't eat at. It wasn't Joe's. But it did have a beer bike.

It was a good trip. And we did indulge in ice cream after the pizza, and it was good, too.

The next day, to work off the pizza and ice cream, Cate and I went on our last big training ride. I’m still riding bikes this week, but only short hops—resting the body for the many miles ahead next week.

Kayak boater with dog on Cedar Lake. The clouds that are gathering will lead to a quick downpour, but most of the ride was dry.

Anyway, we went south to Ely and then headed north. We paused for lunch at Parlor City, a trendy restaurant in the New Bo neighborhood. As we headed north post lunch, the sky grew cloudy and rain began to fall.

We were right by a Dairy Queen. The sane course of action was obvious. 15 minutes and a Mocha MooLatté later, the rain ended and we continued our transit north.

We were fading a bit by the time we got to Center Point, but we had always planned to go to Urbana and it just wasn’t that much farther, so after a break, on we went. I had saved a peanut butter sandwich to eat in Urbana, and we shared it. In return, Cate gave me one of her Salted Nut Rolls. Not sure who came out ahead—maybe it was win-win.

Getting ready to head back, at the north end of the long ride. Cate and bikes at park in Urbana.

Then we headed south again. I don’t know if it’s just the psychology of the trail, but the ride home felt much faster than the ride away from home. We noticed we were going uphill as we headed south to Lafayette, and we know from experience that it’s more uphill then downhill going north from Hiawatha to Lafayette, so we decided Lafayette must be on some sort of mountain top or plateau. Of course, “uphill” meant a 2 percent grade—this is an old rail line—and “mountain” is totally sarcasm. If the swell of land is too subtle so see with the naked eye and you must be riding a bicycle to even detect it, it’s probably not a mountain.

Anyway, the downhill run to Hiawatha passed quickly. The joint ride totaled 77 miles. Taking into account the riding I did before and after, that gives me at least 82 miles for the day. Cate and I agreed that the test ride proves that, under ideal conditions, we could survive the Karras Loop. (And we also agree that conditions have to be ideal, so we’re not promising, just saying it’s possible).

Today, I purchased a 4-bike carrier for the van, as well as a new bike computer. More planning and packing, but RAGBRAI feels very close! So far, almost 1,700 miles for the year.

In Which I Ride The Hill and Install New Technology

Bottom of Bowman Woods hill. This is looking west from the east  side of the hlll--it's a much bigger hill. The steep part is around the bend. This is on the afternoon ride, in the morning I climbed the west side of the hill. After taking the picture, I rode up the hill.

The computer, the lights and Francis.

I rode the neighborhood hill this morning as the start of more serious RAGBRAI training. I ride up the MMU hill each morning when I commute, so I get some hill practice—but getting ready for RAGBRAI is not just putting in the time and miles (even if it is mainly putting in the time and miles), but also getting comfortable with a lot of uphill riding.

Which is a minor problem in Cedar Rapids. We’re not exactly a flat part of Iowa, but we’re sure not Dubuque (or Muscatine). There are a fair number of modest rolls in the land, but not many monster hills. And even if this is a relatively short, relatively flat RAGBRAI, don’t let that “relatively” fool you. On certain days there will be plenty of hills.

So there needs to be hills in my practice. Luckily, I live near one of the big hills—the Bowman Woods hill. You head up Brentwood Drive and then Crandall Drive to reach the summit, and it’s pretty good RAGBRAI practice.

I rode up the hill twice today—once in the morning during my ride to the gym, and once in the afternoon. More on that ride soon.

The ride up the hill actually felt pretty good. My RAGBRAI legs from last year aren’t totally gone. And it has me thinking—is this the year? Once in my RAGBRAI career, I want to do it.

The 100-mile loop. Maybe in 2014? I’m not sure, but I’m thinking about it.

Anyway, we had to take our van in for service today, and while we were waiting for the work be be done, we did a little shopping. I picked up a new bike computer and some spoke lights.

At around 5, I decided to install the new computer. It took about 30 minutes, and when I got all done, I decided to go for a ride. And the computer didn’t register anything—would not detect the motion of the bike.

Well, I’m sure 100 percent of you bikers know what the problem was. I needed to move the magnet and detector closer together. I fiddled with it several times in the first half-mile of my ride, and by the time I got to the corner of C Avenue and Blairs Ferry, the computer was working.

It’s not has fancy as one I lost—it has no thermometer, for example. But it’s bigger, and my old eyes will appreciate that.

And I never used the old one for the thermometer anyway. What do you think, blog fans? Should the new computer record a 100-mile ride this summer?

Installation done, ready for ride, or so I thought. It took some playing before the new computer would register the motion of the bike, but eventually I got it working.

Life Can Be a Matter of Cadence

From zosoiv71's Flickr photos, old bike gears.

It’s probably not news to the world that I didn’t bike today and am unlikely to tomorrow.

I bike year round, but ice and snow (or even rain) will stop me. And it was very snowy today in Iowa. So no biking for CRBiker today.

So instead, a rumination on pace. On speed. On taking it easy, but not too easy. On gears.

My first bike was a one-speed, but the first bike I purchased for myself was a 10-speed I bought in 1974. And today I own a 21-speed bike, which I guess is pretty typical.

One reason that I think I’m a fairly successful biker is that I don’t push it too hard. I learned on that 10 speed 38 years ago to use the gears to maintain a cadence, a pace, in biking.

I long ago set the personal rule that I never, NEVER, walk up a hill. Because you can always shift gears and slow down—and even going as slow as possible, barely able to balance, you will always bike up that mountain faster than it takes to walk up it.

Just keep that cadence going.

I suppose there is some larger lesson here I’m thinking of. I think one reason some students I teach succeed and some fail has a lot to do with their level of determination, with their drive to either keep pushing up the hill rather than stoping.

I can’t say that I always keep pedaling when I should. I think some aspects of my life could use a gear shift, a change-up, a switch.

I’m sure that’s sometimes true of my teaching style.

Still, even if I can’t always keep going all the time in everything, I can pedal up that hill. No matter how tall or steep.

Just shift and keep going. And it’s a good lesson to remember for things other than biking.

Chilly Rides in 2011

Been lucky so far in 2011--rides have been a bit chilly (and dark in the evening) but pavement has been clean. The only "iffy" part of my ride is flying down the hill at MMU and not wiping out in the parking lot before I get to the street.

Drivers have not been too bad this week, either. The Christmas rush is over and maybe we can be a little more relaxed.

Anyway, snow is forecast tomorrow--flurries according to Channel 9 this morning. We'll see if my luck is finally ending ...