In Which I’m Happy to be a Little Damp

Above, C Avenue Pond Thursday morning, Oct. 5. Below, C Avenue Pond on Friday morning, Oct. 6, just as it starts to rain on me.

When I got ready for my bike ride to work Friday, Oct. 6, I decided to use the mountain bike. I lubed the chain (because rain was possible) and aired the tyres first, then set out.

The morning was cloudy and cool, and I was riding with lights on. Less than a half mile from home, the air became misty and a fine rain began to fall. And it made me happy.

No, I’m not a crazy person who takes rain as a challenge and rides no matter what. I typically avoid rain because, while not a wicked witch who would melt, I do prefer the dry life.

Life lately has been quite dry, extraordinarily dry. The entire state of Iowa, where I reside, is in drought, but a little pocked in east central Iowa recently moved into the highest drought category. We’re not bone dry, because bones aren’t the driest thing anyway—we’re approaching Moon dry.

And so, there was a minor chance of rain Friday. And when I checked the weather app on my phone that morning, it looked like it could be rainy for most of the morning, but wouldn’t start until 8:30, after I had arrived on campus.

Sept. 26--Bikes at Warde Hall loading dock. Seeing more bikes this fall on campus.

Sept. 27--Bikes at Basile Hall bike rack.

Sept. 26--My bike parked at MMU.

The app was wrong, the rain began early, ended early and never amount to much more than a hint or memory of rain, raindrops fell but nowhere near enough to put a dent in desert Iowa. Still, rain is rain, and I’m glad for what I get, even if it slightly dampens me on my way on two wheels to work.

I was wearing a sweatshirt, protection against the cool breeze but not much defense against H2O, but I had no need to worry. I keep a sweatshirt in my office and was thinking I could swap when I got there should I get a bit uncomfortably hydrated, but the rain was so sparse I saw no need for the change.

Well, at least some rain fell.

Weather app image of Friday. Have not seen many colorful days like this during this drought.

And this fall, even if the gardener in me would prefer more clouds and rain, has been ideal biking weather. It was warm in September and is finally, in October, starting to feel the season—cool mornings. We’re getting to the point where a sweatshirt may even be comfortable some afternoons.

For this high BMI biker, cool is indeed good news. The bad news is my time for biking is too constrained this time of year, but what person who loves riding a bicycle doesn’t feel their saddle time is sometimes constrained by life?

This fall has featured another helpful biking sign, too. I’ve seen more bikes parked at Mount Mercy University, the college where I teach. That’s nice. A few years ago, we had an active Bike Club at the school, and maybe we’ll reach a critical mass where that group can be revived.

Whatever. Most of my biking is solitary, although I enjoy a good group ride now and then. And if it helps appease the rain spirits, I’ll willingly take some risks.

Never thought I would have this attitude on my biking blog—but more rain, please.

September miles totaled 308.83. 57.56 miles so far in October as of Oct. 7. Year-to-date: 2,794.99—500 miles or so to ride for annual goal and almost three months to go! I hope they aren’t all dry months.

Oct. 7--Rode with grandson to Lininger Park in Marion in late afternoon. Pretty day for a ride!

In Which I Contemplate a Butt for a Bit Too Long

Looking east at Blairs Ferry Road Wednesday morning, Sept. 30. Rain has been falling, and the pavement is a bit damp, but despite droplets in the air, it didn't rain on me on the way in.

I’ve been riding a fair amount this week—even Wednesday morning, when it rained, because the rain was mostly over by the time I left for work and I figured why have the Fancy Beast mountain bike for poor weather if I don’t sometimes ride it in iffy weather?

The equinox was back in September and now fall is for sure upon us. It may frost tonight, even though the prognosis for the month of October overall is warmer than average temperatures. I may have to dig out my biking jacket for my Friday ride. In cold weather, I layer up and I can keep biking down to about zero, as long as it’s not too windy.
 
Zero, by the way, means ’merican zero, not wimpy euro zero.

The dark is now longer than the light, and I have needed morning lights. But the clouds this week made the sky very attractive, and I haven’t minded the dark. The streets are getting slowly clearer, although the bike lanes on C Avenue are still clogged when I head south (heading north, I can use more of the C Avenue route now).

As noted, rain fell in the night before Wednesday morning’s ride, and the air was still damp. But it was not actively raining, and I decided to chance it on the mountain bike. It turned out to be a good gamble.

My wife and I drove Tuesday morning because we had to go to a credit union to sign some financial documents. After lunch, I biked to campus. Flower at the edge of campus--dandelions are among the first flowers of spring and the last flowers of fall.

The Fancy Beast at the Warde Hall bike rack--I think this is a Wednesday image, although I rode this backup bike three days this week. It just seemed like a fun bike to ride.

On the way to work, I paused at the corner of Collins and C Avenue. I’ve given up being a good boy and walking across that street as new, inexplicable city signs instruct, because the signs make no sense at all. It is hard for an old man pushing a bicycle to get across that busy four-lane road in the 10 seconds or so the walk sign is on. But I can bike it easily, so I do.

It was while I was waiting on my bike for the light at that corner, making images of the sky, that I saw the butt.

What have we here?

And I wondered. A pandemic doesn’t seem like a great time to take dried leaves and burn them in your face, although I suppose there isn’t really any good time. The butt bothered me for many reasons. Besides indicating a delusional pandemic smoker, there was the littering aspect. Cigarette butts are a particularly nasty kind of garbage to toss out, something with toxic chemicals that used to be in your mouth. It’s hard to think charitable thoughts about whoever tossed their butt at this busy intersection. And then the butt itself. It was a big butt, which I don’t like, I cannot lie. Our pandemic delusion litterbug was also an inefficient smoker. Trying to cut down by tossing out half-smoked coffin nails? And with all the combustible timber laying around town, it seems like a particularly contemptible time to be a butt chucker.

Collins Road is a very busy street, one of the main traffic arteries in Cedar Rapids, and despite C Avenue also being busy, it does not compare to Collins. Which means that when your biker correspondent has to stop for a red light at this corner, he often has time to think. Perhaps too much time.

Anyway, the light eventually changed, and despite my evil thoughts about a scofflaw, I did my outlaw, scofflaw biker thing. I biked my butt across that intersection.

Walk, says the man? I don’t think so. Take that, the man.

Thursday was a nicer, if cooler and windier, day with a still partly cloudy sky. And after images, the song that seems appropriate for this post, which was partly about rain and partly about garbage.

Wednesday morning. When I wasn't making images of trash, I turned my little point-and-shoot camera towards the eastern sky. Yes, this is trash corner.

By the time I got to campus Wednesday morning, the sky was clearing although the Rohde Family Plaza is a bit damp.

Waiting for light to change at Blair's Ferry on the way home Wednesday--looking west. I made it home just in time for a 5 p.m. zoom meeting, so this is probably 4:50 or so.

Thursday morning, pretty sunrise at C Avenue pond.

Pretty sky at corner of Colllins Road and C Avenue Thursday morning. No trashy images today.

When it is damp, I park my bike inside. This is my view as I've just exited Warde Hall Thursday afternoon for the ride home.

In Which I Go from Sunshine to Rain to Sunshine

Sept. 7--Monday, first day of classes at university where I teach. Bike in driveway before I leave home.

Morning glories blooming in someone's yard, seen on my Monday morning ride.

Monday morning--I have arrived at Rohde Family Plaza, Mount Mercy University.

Odd weather--storm, then heat wave, drought, cooler weather--some spring flowers are blooming. Lilac seen on bike ride.

Sunrise Monday morning at C Avenue pond of Collins Aerospace.

Another view, from another camera, of my bike on campus Monday morning.

The biking week in Cedar Rapids wasn’t much this past week. I commuted to work as usual Monday, Sept. 7, on two wheels.

And then it rained. And Rained. And rained. It was raining Thursday, but I was home a bit early and the weather app on my phone claimed there was a break. So I got out my mountain bike. It was sprinkling, but the weather radar said “clear” so I ignored my senses and trusted the smartphone—probably not the smartest thing to do.

After a quick ride of 3 miles or so I gave in to reality and went home.

Thursday afternoon--mountain bike ready for damp ride.

Heading south on C Avenue.

Heading east on Brentwood Drive towards the hill.

 

I drove to work Friday. As I had Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. Man, commuting in a metal cocoon, cut off from the world, kind of ranks high in the suck-o-meter. Now that I’m used to bicycle commuting, car commuting feels very lame.

Saturday was cloudy and damp, but not raining for most of the day. I took a 4-year-old grandson to a park, using my bike and a Tag-A-Long seat. He seemed to enjoy it.

Grandson on bike Saturday. Cool, damp day, but it didn't rain on us.

A finally, today, glorious Sunday—aptly named, as it turns out, for the first sunshine in six days. We had a terrible derecho storm on Aug. 10, and then drought until the rains this week. I rode over to the Lowe Park Trail, then to the neighborhood where my youngest daughter has bought her first house, and then home—about 12 miles in all, enjoying it the whole time.

Well, the weather has cooled. This week should be dry, and I should be able to ride more. Or so says my phone’s weather app. I guess I should also look with my own eyes.

Sept. 13--Bike parked at Lowe Park on, finally, a sunny Sunday.

In Which I Ride the Narrows

Stump on lawn at Collins Aerospace on C Avenue. Large trees that were removed were painted with an L. Feeling sad for the loser trees.

Waiting for light to change at Collins Road. Raindrops pattern the sidewalk, first rain since the derecho storm. We only got a little.

First corner, Blair's Ferry and C Avenue. Off to the left, that open grassy area. It had many mature trees on it, all are gone now.

Riding south along C Avenue by Collins Aerospace. Near Collins Road--another empty lawn that used to have many mature shade trees.

It has been not quite a fortnight since the derecho storm blew through Cedar Rapids.

My first bike ride since then was a short tandem trip with a granddaughter. It’s been dry since the big storm, although there was a chance of some rain today. But, since wifi was down at my house and accessing work files would be difficult, on Saturday I decided to take a morning ride as my second post-derecho bicycle adventure.

My goal was to check out campus. Volunteers have been clearing the devastation there, and offices are to open Monday.

I started my journey south. The campus of Collins Aerospace is poignant to see—it was a pretty grassy area with mature trees, most of which were blown away by the 140-mile gusts of the derecho. It’s open and sunny now, and feels naked. Fortunately, the young trees recently planted in a line along C Avenue, although a few are leaning, largely survived.

After crossing Collins Road, I got to the place where C Avenue had a bike like. “Had,” although the lane is still there, just mostly buried under tree debris. That was not terribly surprising, and I planned to turn off C Avenue at the first intersection, rather than riding almost to the end of the bike lane, which in the past was my usual route.

Bike lane on C Avenue has disappeared under wall of cut branches.

Mail truck passes me along suddenly narrow C Avenue. I turned off as soon as I could.

The neighborhood I turned into was surreal. The storm was wildly inconsistent—it hit and damaged the entire area, but in some places it’s mostly downed trees, while in others roofs were damaged, sheds demolished—the winds of chance blew a bit more in places, and this neighborhood west of C Avenue featured the usual piles of debris stacked by the thereby narrowed roads, plus some wires still down and many roofs a patchwork of tarps. Today was the first that those tarps were important, as a few sprinkles came down.

And Mount Mercy University is in one of those hard-hit places, too. I was riding on familiar, quiet residential streets, but the ride was a still more than a bit eerie. The piles of former trees plus the more open skyline, the occasional downed wires—it’s still a revelation to move through this space, at once so familiar and so strange.

After turning off of C Avenue--the neighborhood of quiet streets and quiet devastation. Many trees down, those standing look shell-shocked and shorn of leaves.

Sure.

Another street scene I saw.

The space between houses is part of small neighborhood park, apparently used as a staging area for trucks.

 

 

No one will play in this park for a while. In fact, the city has closed all parks and said they are not even safe to walk across due to unstable trees.

A few unexpected turns on my route--some streets closed or filled with equipment.

I got to campus. Signs on the drives announced it was closed, and I could hear equipment moving. I know it will be open on Monday for work, and I decided it was best to satisfy my curiosity then. I rode partly around campus (a blocked street prevented a full circuit) and made some images from the edges.

I am betting a lot of cleanup has been done on central campus, and it will help a lot when the city can cart away the fences of felled wood, but at its edges of The Hill (local term for MMU campus) there is still a lot of reminders of the recent storm.

Unexpected detour of a few blocks.

Striving statue on MMU campus, seen from Prairie Drive.

Campus view, post derecho.

I decided it was best to obey the signs.

Not every tree in front of Warde Hall is down. Just most of them.

I paused here to pluck two drying hickory nuts off of the downed branches.

In our backyard after the storm, my 4-year-old grandson found some hickory nuts, although I don’t know where the nearest hickory tree is. He has planted some in his sandbox and in gardens, explaining that he hopes to grow “hickory dickory dock” trees.

At the end of the MMU campus, some drying hickory nuts were attached to fallen limbs laying by the street. I grabbed a couple. May as well try to see if I can get a hickory dickory dock tree out of this mess.

It was a somber 9-mile ride. The grey sky matched the mood. The sprinkles, which started early in the ride, held off, however, even as the sky darkened.

At Regis Middle School, people were clearing the lawn by the street. I wish that they had been wearing masks, although that would be hard to do such work on this warm, humid day. Yet I was glad to see them. It gave me some hope. Power is on back on campus, or so I’ve heard (I had no wifi this week, so I haven’t really seen any campus messages). We’re coming back. Slowly, it will be a long road back, but we’re coming back.

And then I rode back home. Longer and more pleasant rides are clearly a way off in the future. Here’s to those future bicycle rides.

Seen on my way home.

Nuts from campus.

On the way home I went up F Avenue to avoid C Avenue traffic. Just crossed Collins Road at F, entering Collins Aerospace bare lawn that used to be well shaded by mature trees.