In Which A Sweet Spring Day Leads to Mowing

Second-oldest Iowa granddaughter on second bike ride of the morning. We are stopped at corner of C Avenue and Boyson Road waiting to go ride around the Collins Aerospace koi pond, and she is playing with the two bells on the towed seat.

The day began with me taking an unexpected tour of the back yard. I had snuck out for a few minutes to view new flowers, but didn’t plan to stay out there because I’ve planted new grass and clover, and am trying to allow it to get going before it gets trampled into the bare patches my backyard usually features.

But I was caught. My 3-year-old grandson saw me go out, and insisted that entitled him to get into the yard, too, so I let him put on his shoes and play in back for a few minutes. He’s small, and I was careful where I walked, so I hope we minimized our impact on the new grass—but I did enjoy the cool, sunny morning and the sight of many flowers blooming in my back gardens.

Daffodil I planted last fall is in bloom. The red tulip behind it is new, too, both seen this morning.

Thus began my Saturday in the saddle. His mom was met at my house by her sister, and my two daughters were then off to the Amanas with their children for an event there. Meanwhile, the four grandkids from another mother were dropped off to spend the day with their grandparents.

Before lunch, I took the oldest of the four for a ride as I was seeking a new gasoline container (and beans for the weenies and beans we had planned). I had lost the cap of the old gas can, and don’t want to keep gasoline in a container that is not well sealed. It’s the mix of gas and air, after all, that is most volatile.

Dollar General, as it turned out, has only 5-gallon containers. We did get the beans for lunch, but I did  not want such a large gas can. So the granddaughter and I rode home, and I swapped her for the next younger granddaughter and swapped Dollar General for Drug Town. Which, as it turned out, had no gasoline containers at all.

Lunch came next, and then the three girls and grandma planned a “girls day out.” I told the oldest grandson, who is among those four siblings, that we could ride my bike on the Boyson Trail and turn down the Krumholz Trail to get to Menards. He agreed, and there we found a gas can and a new spay can of WD-40.

Saturday afternoon on the Krumholz Trail. The world has turned green, although the trail is not shady as the trees are just putting out their first new leaves. Still, a pretty green Iowa spring day.

Wild bluebells blooming along Krumholz Trail.

My oldest grandson is not usually happy to have his image taken, and put his head down when I aimed a camera at him. Still, I like the picture of his shadow as we are on our afternoon ride on the trail.

The front derailleur of my mountain bike is not working, but I hope cleaning all the crud off with WD-40 might unstick it. We shall see.

Anyway, the older grandson and I biked home, stopping at a gas station to fill the new gas container (it’s not often you see a bicycle stopped at a gas pump to gas up, but it happened today). Then, I cleaned the front yard and mowed, as the grandson watched for a while and then played in the house for a while.

Grandson and I have arrived home and I have gotten mower out. The bike, the mower, the gas can and the container of WD-40 we purchased. The gas can can fit in one of my bike bags which means I don't have to walk to get gasoline.

My wife stopped by to grab some water bottles. The girls were done shopping and ready to head to Indian Creek School playground, where a rendezvous with the Amana crew had been arranged.

So the older grandson and I biked over there. Before we left the playground, intending to go to my house for the All Iowa Grandchild Spontaneous Pizza Party (thank you, my youngest daughter, for getting the pizza), my 3-year-old grandson got a little sad. He gets prone to being sad late in the afternoon on no nap days, but this particular episode was also a case of But I Want To Ride with Grandpa.

However, I did not have the bike seat for him, so the tears that ensued were for naught. The second youngest of the three girls in the four-sibling family managed to schedule herself for the ride home, so there we went.

When we got there, after our pizza supper, I told the 3-year-old I would put his seat on my bike, and told the youngest of the three sisters, who had not ridden yet, she could have a turn on the towed seat, if she wanted.

She did. But there were two grandsons in another family, who had also not ridden. One didn’t want to, and for the other, I got out a second bicycle and attached a second trailer seat to it, and the caravan—me with a 3-year-old in front, towing a Tag-A-Long with a kindergartener in back, accompanied by my daughter with a towed seat attached to her bicycle, towing her kindergarten son—got going.

We headed up to the duck pond on C Avenue, and then down the Lindale Trail, where we headed back up the Boyson Trail to Boyson Road and then back into my neighborhood.

I’m not sure how many miles I rode today. The morning rides were maybe 3 miles each, for about 6. The ride to Menards and back was likely around 8 or so. There was also the ride to Indian Creek School and back, followed by the probably 5-mile trail loop ride. I suppose all told it was between 25 and 30 miles, so not that great for total miles on a RAGBRAI training day.

Still, I was towing grandchildren on all those rides, and I feel that I earned my pizza. And enjoyed this fine, sunny Iowa spring day. Sadly, more rain is coming, which is shame, specially with serious flooding happening on Iowa’s East Coast. But now my legs feel tired, as they ought to after a pretty day for bicycle riding like this one.

Final look at the trail from today. A gorgeous day to be in Iowa!

In Which I Mostly Agree with a Bike Critic

Two view of the new Boyson Trail bridge shot June 7. The detour signs are still up, but I can't see why. The biker below, by the way, is a random stranger.

I was thinking of doing a ride to Cedar Lake this morning. Rather than go to the gym (it’s stuffy there, my wife had said), I decided that this cool morning deserved a more extended bike ride. So I started off doing 3 climbs of the Brentwood Drive hill, and then started to go south on C Avenue.

But, I realized I did not have my cell phone with me—I had started to pack for the gym this morning before my plans changed. And so I stopped at home again to grab the phone. As you know from recent posts, I’m a fan of having a phone on a bike ride.

And I was oriented the other way. Well, why not do climb number 4 and then head out to Marion?

So, I did. I thought maybe Boyson would be rough to cross this morning (it wasn’t, since it was about 7 a.m. and traffic hadn’t really picked up yet) and I was going to take the Geode bike boulevard out to Tower Terrace and the Lowe Park Trail.

The Lowe Park Trail walkers don’t seem used to bikes. Unlike the Cedar River Trail, for example, where bicycle traffic predominates and pedestrians tend to walk on the right, at Lowe Park they meander all over as if there were not bikes in the universe.

East end of Lowe Park trail--where natural prairie planting meets mowed grass. More of the stuff on the left and less of the boring stuff on the right, please. Yes, I know a park does need mowed lawns for outdoor recreation, and I don't mean eliminate all mowing, but there seemed an excess of mowed grassy areas where I rode this morning.

So, naturally I shouted at people that “this is a bike trail” and almost ran them down. Because that’s what we biker do.

No, no, no. I slowed, sounded a verbal warning, and tried to pass them safely. On a shared-use trail, the primarily safety responsibility is with the faster, heavier vehicle, and CR Biker, slow though he is, qualifies on both counts.

I was a little perturbed by a column in this morning’s Gazette, another anti-biker diatribe. But, read it and weep. She’s largely correct. Mr. Fat Tire on the Bridge of Lions was totally off base—there isn't (nor, in my mind, should there be) an exclusive bike trail in Cedar Rapids.

I would quibble on a few points. Mr. Fat Tire was using sidewalks on the Bridge of Lions, which bikers routinely do despite the share marks on the street there—for two reasons. One is habit—the trail has been around for many years and has used those walkways for years, the share marks are new this year, and most bikers aren’t used to the idea of riding in the street there. The other is more practical—there is no curb cut on the south end of the bridge for bikes to access and continue on the Cedar River Trail, which reinforces the bad habit of riding walkways on the bridge.

Still—yelling at walkers and proceeding at speed by them? Not cool, Mr. Fat Tire. CR Biker waggles his finger of shame at you.

Second quibble—the guest columnist says bikers should always walk their bikes if they have to use a sidewalk. Walking a bike is nowhere near as easy as walking without one, and it’s against a biker’s nature to walk if walking isn’t absolutely required by extreme conditions or the size of a crowd (think the town scrum on RAGBRAI). Telling bikers to walk a vehicle they by habit and inclination want to ride is to spit into the wind, a bit. However, if the street is bike friendly, I agree that bikers belong there—and when the street is not, a biker on the sidewalk very much has to be aware they are “borrowing” a place that is intended for walkers, and they should politely defer to walkers.

An additional point not made in her article—bikers always need to sound a polite verbal warning when passing a walker, because most bikes are so quiet you’re on top of a walker before they can hear you and react. No, “THIS IS A BIKE TRAIL” is not a polite verbal warning—I prefer an audible, loudly spoken but not shouted, “bike on your left.”

And most walkers seem to agree. I get a fair number of thanks in response.

Anyway, my blood boiled when I read the column. Not because a walker was complaining about bicycles—but because her complaint seems pretty valid. As a biker, I don’t appreciate my biking brothers or sisters giving us all a bad name. So once again, Mr. Fat Tire, CR Biker’s waggle of shame to you.

Back to this morning. I continued past the middle school and used the sidewalks (!) to ride to Echo Hill. In the middle school parking lot, a hot air balloon was being assembled—I wonder if they go it flying. Seemed a little breezy, to me. Anyway, I had to go slow to avoid running into a riding mower (no shouting nor pointless, unheard verbal warning, I just waited it out as a good biker should)—and that depressed me just a bit. The middle school grounds are surrounded by a vast sea of mowed grass, and that seems like an expensive waste, to me. Plant some milkweed and cone flowers, for goodness sake, and let flowers grow rather than mow.

Anyway, the ride was quite pleasant. I was later heading home and had done about 14 miles by the time I was near the Boyson Trail. What the heck, I thought. I had crossed the new Boyson Trail bridge Tuesday, so I knew despite the detour signs that it’s already open, and I liked the idea of getting in 20 miles.

Well, the second trail ride did the trick. I hit 20 miles. And didn’t yell at any walkers—because, frankly, I think that they should be welcome to use the trail, too.

Catalpa in bloom next to Boyson Trail at Thomas Park. At this time of year, I don't understand why every yard in Cedar Rapids doesn't have a Catalpa Tree--glad to say mine does, although it is young and has not yet bloomed. It is close to 6 feet tall, however, and I've seen Catalpa of its size start to flower, so maybe next spring ...

Two views from bridge at the south end of Boyson Trail. Two ducks on Indian Creek, and watching the sunrise from the bridge. A great day to bike, or walk, a trail!