In Which There Is Too Much and Not Enough Water

This morning, 9:40 a.m. Remains of the rain that has just passed by can be seen, but when you look to the west (below), all you see is blue--and birds. Both images on C Avenue in Collins Aerospace area.

I once again didn’t get in as many miles as I had hoped today—it was great biking weather and I did ride, but I also stopped on campus to help plant a new pollinator garden.

It was time well spent, and I suppose digging in the garden in summer warmth is exercise of a sort, so perhaps indirect RAGBRAI training. And I learned the men’s volleyball coach, one of nicest women at MMU, might ride RAGBRAI this year, which would be cool.

We had rain this morning, and the pavement was wet when I began riding this morning. But the sky was rapidly clearing, and turned blue by the time I got to campus.

After planting, I napped, and it was getting close to 4 by the time I rode on. I headed south on the Cedar River Trail, heading towards the river. There, I turned aside to go circle the Prairie Park Fishery—and was surprised to find that the Cedar River and the lake at the fishery as still joined by high water. There was a short area of trail covered by water, which I suppose I could have ridden through, but decided not to.

Fish swim on Prairie Park Fishery trail, where high water means the river and lake are connected.

Too much water.

But I was running low on water. Well, there is a drinking fountain in Greene Square, but the trail detours that park right now. No matter, I thought, I’ll fill up at the city park at Cedar Lake.

Except I would not. There is some project going on there, and the drinking fountain has been, temporarily, I think, removed.

OK. I rode on to the park at J Avenue. Where the drinking fountain was broken and off.

So, from the Hiawatha border clear to Tait Cummins Park, where there normally would be four watering stations in a hot summer day (J Avenue, Cedar Lake, Greene Square, Sokol Park), this summer, the Cedar River Trail goes by exactly zero water sources.

Poor form, City of Cedar Rapids. OK, I'll grant that Greene Square is still there and I should have gotten off the detour to get water there, but still. Please at least fix the water fountain at J Avenue—you did plan projects that did remove most of the water sources on the city's longest bike trail all at the same time.

In Which I Reflect On the Morning Ride Reflections

View of creek beside Cedar River Trail this morning.

It was a bit cloudy this morning, but I took the slightly longer trail route in to work. The Cedar River Trail parallels a creek for much of the way. I was thinking about how water in morning light pleasantly reflects the sky and trees— how pretty that can be, but how hard to capture via a photo.

A photo freezes an instant of time. But part of the pleasure of seeing water as you ride is movement—the water’s and yours. And there is sound. Of course the hum of traffic on nearby I-380, but also the various voices of birds declaring  their territories in the morning light. And the quiet sounds of the bicycle itself, the little squeaks of the pedals, clicks of shifting gears, the mild rumble of tire against asphalt.

On this morning’s ride, one unfamiliar pretty bird darted in front of me. It was red and brown and white with an interesting double V shape to its wings, and I couldn't tell what it was, and then it was gone.

For some reason, a mama duck amused me as she sat in a puddle of a tire rut beside the trail. There’s a creek nearby, dear, and there you won’t have bikes practically on top of you.

Lady Duck in puddle by the trail.

The afternoon ride was not quite so pleasant—it had started to rain, and it was a cool, penetrating, cooling rain.

It must have motivated me to peddle faster. I was home in 25 minutes, and the 4-miles to Mount Mercy usually take me closer to 30 minutes. I guess a faster bike ride is one way to try to stay warm!

In Which I Contemplate The Power of 40

Quite street during my afternoon ride Jan. 12. I think this is H Avenue. Note that despite the wet, which promises some ice issues that plagued my commute home Monday night, it's still refreshing to see pavement.

Sunday’s bike ride was an illustration of what a January thaw can do.

Just last week, most of the roads in the Kenwood neighborhood were covered in ice and snow. But by Sunday, when the sun peeked out now and then on a partly cloudy day, and when the temperature flirted with 40, all busy streets on my route were mostly bare pavement, while side streets has a mix of wet, slush and some ice--but were no longer covered completely in snow.

Riding conditions have vastly improved over last week. During my Sunday ride, on the way down to Mount Mercy University, right after crossing Collins Road on F Avenue, I saw two women jogging towards me. I idly wondered about whether it was worse to try to run on sometimes iffy streets than to bike on them—and, I have no idea what the answer is—when I noticed that I knew these two. They’re both MMU students. And they were at least 4 miles from campus.

H and maybe 37th Street? 38th? Not the busy one by Rockwell Collins, one street north. Some very cold looking water and ice--but most of the ride was better than this.

It was a fine afternoon for a longish run. I think both of these young women are on the track team, so maybe a 10-mile ride was just par, for them. I was glad that others were taking advantage of this spring-light break from our long, cold winter.

After I got to campus, I met a student at the campus newspaper office, and then spent some time working in a computer lab, printing papers to grade. By around 4:45 or so, I was ready to head home.

This is last week, Jan. 8,  just for contrast. Not sure of the street, but it is a quiet one in the Kenwood area, and yes, I rode my bike on this.

What a difference January makes. It’s the dead of winter, but there is change in the air. At 4:45, it’s no longer the dark night it as in late December—there is a bit of light until well after 5.

The sun is coming back. We even have a 40 degree day. Well, hooray for the change!

Miles today, Jan. 13: 12. Year-to-date total: 33. I won’t get many, or probably even any, more this week with snow forecast for Tuesday, but at least it’s nice to know that the white stuff can become wet stuff.

Here are some images from my ride home around 5 Sunday evening:

One of two new lights my wife got me for Christmas. The other, a red one, is on the rear of my helmet.

I'll use some sunset pictures from Jan. 13 on my other blog. This is Jan. 12 as I head out. In late December, it's full dark by 5. Nice to see you coming back to play in our sky, Mr. Sun!

The evening was so fair, I took the longer trail route home Sunday. Saw some joggers. These are not the two MMU students I wrote about, since I saw them on F avenue. This is the Cedar River Trail, and I did see several walkers, bikers and runners on the way home.

I don't think I'll be using the Harding Middle School bypass until there is a more sustained thaw. I briefly had to walk Francis around this ephemeral lake.

On the sidewalk at Noelridge Park, Sunday around 5:30. Still barely light enough to take a shaky photo with a long expsure. I think I caught all of the lights on Francis flashing--the smear of brighter white on the corner of the basket is the new light shown earlier.

In Which Four Or Five Heads Are Better Than One

The mighty awesome Team Joe at the end of RAGBRAI 2013. Brandon Kent, Cate Sheller, Brigid Rocca, Eldon Rocca and your correspondent.

My son-in-law could have borrowed my sweatshirt—I would have been warm enough in my sleeping bag. As it was, he got very cold in his thin sleeping bag liner and airy summer tent that night in Fairfield. I was fine.

Then again, while he mostly rode and camped alone, I was with a group. And again, as in last year, my RAGBRAI 2013 experience reinforces the idea of a group experience being the better way to go.

Not that groups are always better. The first year I did RAGBRAI, the young men from Seattle who I was with would sleep until almost 8, whereas I awoke at 5. I would hit the road by 6. They would always finish before me anyway, being young and strong on nimble road bikes, whereas I am old—still strong, but in biking terms “old” is almost synonymous with “slow”—and ride Francis.

My bike, Francis, is very reliable: a solid, sturdy bike that is ideal for commuting. Maybe Francis is not quite as ideal for RAGBRAI, although, on the other hand, Francis is of a style that promotes both front baskets and back racks, which are handy to have on a long bike trek.

Anyway, since I was on my own during the day during that first RAGBRAI, I could move at my own pace and always make my own decisions. But since I was with a group, there was a support vehicle and friends to pal around with each night.

This year, things were a bit different. We were trading drivers at the meet towns each day, so meeting was more important. And our style of riding was different—we tended to ride in mini packs. Again, this is not bad—there were many advantages—but group dynamics, the need to discuss decisions and come to agreement, slows things down.

On the other hand, being with other riders during the day means both many bad shared jokes and mutual support. One of our riders, not me, became ill one day, and it was good that someone (me) could stay with that rider until the SAG wagon came. I stopped twice to help strangers along the way, and once had my sister with me—she provided me with a glove that kept me from getting all greasy. I got all greasy the other time. I did better with my sister there.

Overall, I would say 2013 ranks second in my RAGBRAI experiences. The first year was number one, the second year was number three. I enjoyed the second year, but doing it alone proved not as good as doing it in a group. And the biggest reason 2013 doesn’t rank number one has zero to do with the company I kept, which was excellent in both 2011 and 2013, but more with the fact that almost any good experience is just better when it is most novel.

Will I do RAGBRAI again? With siblings? I can’t speak for them, but I suspect so. I am 100 percent sure that I will do at least parts of RAGBRAI again, and, while I’m not prepared at this point to commit to the full week in 2014, on the other hand, when winter rolls around and the Des Moines Register announces the route for the year—well, 2013 was such a positive experience that I’m sure RAGBRAI fever will be high.

We—my sisters, brother-in-law and I—talked of many things, including possible blog posts. I may yet write the one we discussed about advice for vendors, host towns and RAGBRAI itself—including, RAGBRAI, marking the darn route for support vehicles much more effectively. Another possible blog post, that I sadly suspect will not be done because I did not take notes, was RAGBRAI quotes.

One I recall is “Eldon gives the best Hickeys.” A hickey is a naughty mark on the skin. A Hickey is a rubber device that replaces shoelaces, and my bike shoes now have Hickeys courtesy of Eldon.

Maybe next year I will remember to have a notebook handy so I can recall all of the cool quotes from the journey. There, see, I haven’t even committed to doing RAGBRAI again, but I’m already writing “next year.”

Some final thoughts on RAGBRAI 2013:

What went well:

Picture perfect final day--Des Moines River at Bonaparte.

• Eating at churches. Even the hapless one in Perry where the system broke down and the food was an hour late still fed us well, and the time in line worked in our favor because we avoided the worst of a thunderstorm. Methodists still make great pie, but Catholic pasta proved filling in two overnight towns.
• Having a support vehicle. I owe many debts to both of my riding pal sisters—Brigid and Cate—and to Eldon, my brother-in-law. Among the greatest is to Brigid and Eldon for supplying the SUV. We didn’t have to worry about RAGBARI baggage limits (which meant a real pillow, hooray!) and had coolers so we could buy our own beer at $6 a six pack instead of $6 a drink
• Taking turns driving. It meant I missed some cool things, such as the drive over the mile-long bridge on Red Rock Lake, but having a few driving shifts meant some half days off, which were good for my aging body. I suppose I technically did only 5 ½ days of RAGBRAI on a bike, but still. When one member of our team was faded for any reason, he or she could pick up an extra diving shift and get a break. CR Biker did not need any extra breaks this year—and having a few more team members so there are fewer driving shifts would be OK, too—but the whole trading driving thing turned out to be a great idea.
• The weather. We had rain twice this year, but both times at night. Since my little tent continues to be the watertight shelter that could, night rains didn’t bother me much. Dry, warm, sunny days make the week overall very beautiful. If it had been one week earlier, we would have sweltered under high heat and astronomical humidity—but as it turned out, Mother Nature smiled this year, and the weather was gorgeous.
• The shirts. My daughter's grand design for Team Joe was a hit. I wore "I am Joe" and "Joe I am" shirts on four days of the ride, and met lots of other Joes. Many riders made a sport of yelling "hi Joe," or, in the case of the Christmas team (yes, there was one), "Merry Christmas, Joe!" I felt like Lance Armstrong without the biking ability.

  

  Awesome shirt front,
  it said "Team Joe" above picture.

What did not go well:

• Fairfield. The little town that is slightly cray cray. From the gate guard who turned us away from the main campground because I could not name our team’s official RAGBRAI name on the spot to the shortage of portable toilets (and total lack of water) in the main campground, the little town that is schizophrenic, divided between old-school Iowans and Vedic spirituality, seemed a bit, well, incompetent. Don’t get me wrong—overall the town was very friendly and most individuals we encountered were delightful, it’s just that the powers that be running this RAGBRAI stop managed to get many key details wrong.
• Getting late starts. We did better at the end, and usually were on the road by close to 6:30 if not 7—but as I’ve written before, a good RAGBRAI ride starts promptly at 6. In the future, maybe we pack breakfy rather than seeking it in town. Coffee is important, but then again, it’s also readily available on the road.
• Eating vendor food one night. Yeah, not so much. Stick with churches. Our search for food became late in Oskaloosa, and we didn’t find either Methodists or Catholics, but instead ate in the downtown vendor area. Never again. The food was OK, but it was not plentiful enough and the lines were huge. Churches feed you much better. You pay more, but sitting down to a hearty meal is totally worth it.

Anyway, RAGBRAI 2013 is now history. See more of my photos here.

The giant bike at the Fairfield  Middle School was cool.

Was it good? When it was good, it was very, very good. When it was bad, it frankly wasn’t all that bad. Even Fairfield was enjoyable. Overall, I would say it was great.

Some thank you notes: Thank you again, Brigid and Eldon, for supplying the support vehicle. Thank you Eldon for fixing my front derailleur. Thank you, Cate and Brigid, for your quirky sense of humor and knowledge of 1970s and 80s song lyrics. Eldon, thanks for putting up with three Shellers for a week. Thank you Cate for the many training rides and the cool guest blog post. Brandon, thanks for hanging out with the old folks for a few nights. Thank you Iowa and Des Moines Register for going along with this whole RAGBRAI idea. Amanda, the shirts were totally awesome, thanks a ton, and again thanks to Eldon for arranging the printing. Most of all, Audrey, a thousand thanks. You encouraged me to do RAGBRAI again, you left me off and picked me up despite the coordination problems that inevitably cropped up, and you reminded me often to go out and ride my bike to practice for RAGBRAI. I’m sure sometimes it just got me out of your hair, but still.

It’s good to be home. Of all the RAGBRAIs so far, I think I finished this one in the best physical shape—Audrey had the idea to take several pairs of gloves, which proved a very wise move since I had no hand rashes as I have in the past, and trading time cycling with driving time means my body is just not that beat up. The weather was beautiful today and it was tempting to pop the wheel back on Francis and head for a spin on the trails near my home.

My butt said “no.” OK, butt. But I’m sure I’ll be back in the saddle again soon, and probably again in future RAGBRAIs, too.

Final look at Team Joe. So long, RAGBRAI 2013.

In Which Moving Water Fascinates an Impish Passenger

Amelia watches the water on one bridge.

A different bridge. The water is so beautiful.

View of Indian Creek from bridge on Krumboltz trail.

A day after the epic journey to Ely with Cate, I took a shorter journey, a quick ride of the trail system near my home.

Well, quick is an exaggeration. Amelia, who was slightly miffed she didn’t get a ride Thursday when Tristan rode on my bike home from C Avenue Park, got a morning ride with me. She was bundled up—it was in the lower 50s Friday morning—but I think she stayed comfortable for the whole ride.

She has clearly made herself at home on the bike. For one thing, she is much more ornery now, definitely a sign of comfort in that girl. She would spontaneously grab one of my arms and shout “got you!” Or reach up to my torso and wiggle her fingers, shouting “tickle, tickle, tickle!” Or, sometimes, just lean her head way back so I could get a clear view of her face as she stuck her tongue out at me.

And she had a new routine on this ride. At every bridge we crossed, we had to stop and watch the water for a while and talk about what we were seeing. Maybe it’s my fault for telling her before the ride that we might see hippos, but she was pretty excited by ducks and fish.

Even with the pauses and the cool air, it was a very nice morning to be on the trail with a tickling, grabbing, tongue-sticking, little, ornery passenger.

In Which CR Biker Is Mistaken for The Man

Or the woman…Anyway, the police.

I was biking home at dusk today, lights on.  It was still fading sunlight, but I was running with lights.  I crested Bowman Woods hill on Brentwood Drive, and a minivan coming from the opposite way slowed, driver’s window down.

A man’s head popped out.  “Are you a patrol officer?” said citizen inquired.

Jack Webb on Dragnet, from Wikipedia.
Just the facts, ma'm.

Talk about temptation.  Of course, I wanted to say “yes” and go all “Dragnet” on him, maybe give him a stern warning for sticking his head out his window.  It would have been a perfect time to try my Joe Friday scowl and clipped speech.

But no.  “I’m just a biker,” I said.

I didn’t get oodles of miles this weekend, but had several fun rides.  On Saturday, I went downtown early in the morning to ring bells on the MMU Handbell Choir float in the Freedom Festival Parade.  I wore, at the director’s request, my MMU bike jersey, as did Moira Blake, wife of MMU President Dr. Christopher Blake.

I didn’t take the trail down, because I was in a hurry, but the streets are quiet early Saturday, and bikers always get the best parking spots.

Bill Mulcahey's daughter kindly snapped this photo for me of our MMU group before the Freddom Festival parade.

We converted a borrowed Shriner Band wagon into an MMU hand bell wagon with some posters  and blue and yellow plastic.  The parade itself went fairly quickly, and it was a fun experience.  After the parade, I biked over to Wendy’s on First Avenue to have lunch with some hand bell compatriots, and then went over to the Cedar River trail for the ride home.

Sunday, my daughter Katy had an open house for the home she and her husband Wyatt have on the market.  After a fun afternoon featuring pool play, taco salad for supper and long naps, I took Mr. T for a trail ride around 7 p.m.

Tristan was fixated on water, as he often is, and counted (fairly accurately) the number of bridge we crossed.  We used the CR rail bed route to the Boyson Road trail, and went down the new side trail through the Frisbee golf course.  On an earlier scouting trip, when I found that the trail ended in a newish Marion subdivision, I assumed the subdivision was near the street where the nursing home my parents lived in is located, and I would find a side street that leads to a park at the end of the Boyson road trail—it would be easy to do a loop and end up on the Boyson Road trail.

Well, blog fans, route confirmed.  Despite not knowing the way, and having a talking 2-year-old to distract me, the route worked just as planned.  I found the park, and the trail end, and ended up taking the planned route back through Marion to deliver Tristan to the Sebers residence.

Which, he informed me, is not his mother’s house nor his father’s house.  “It’s Tristan’s house.”  Luckily he lets his parents and sisters live with him.

It was a fun ride.  I was on the way home, after dropping him off, that the citizen mistook me for Joe Friday.

Sure.  It’s a mistake anybody can make.

How to Ride in the Heat

Not that I’m an expert, but I do have some experience—especially today.

I rode on the Cedar River Trail t work, making my morning commute more on the order of 7 or 8 miles rather than 5. I started coming home around 1, and took the trail again—but added the loop around Cedar Lake, as a well as a 1 ½ mile trek north on the Cedar Valley Nature Trail, to make sure that I got at least 20 miles in today, since I was too busy to ride Saturday or Sunday.

So I rode 20 miles, 15 of them in the afternoon, when the area was under a “heat” advisory. The Banker’s Trust sign at Blairs Ferry and C Avenue said “100,” but I know from my winter rides that the bank’s thermometer is off by 5 to 10 degrees to the warm. The computer says it’s 92, and was 96 at the hottest point of the afternoon, and I suppose I should go with that.

How do I feel? Well, fine, but a little foolhardy. I was for sure “stretching it,” but being used to the heat is part of RAGBRAI prep, too, and that’s my story. Beats brain malfunction due to hot weather, right?

So, how did I ride in the heat? What are CR Biker’s rules for those fools—mad dogs and Englishmen—who will bake their behinds on a bike seat at 92 or 96 degrees?

1) Take water. Drink water. My rule was that every time I came to a stop, for any reason, I took a drink from the water bottle I was carrying. I also used every water fountain I passed that was working, although the only one working was at the Hiawatha trail head. But, I refilled my bottle, there, too, and had plenty to drink at MMU.

2) Stop and rest every once in a while. I shot some photos for my crgardenjoe blog along the way, of graffiti along the trail. Of course, I don’t need much of an excuse to stop and snap a photo anyway—but this little art interlude was partly deliberate, just to get off the bike, take some drinks and cool off. When I got 1 ½ miles out of town, I also stopped and sat for a few and drank most of the water I had gathered at the Hiawatha trail head.

3) Don’t forget to sunscreen. It’s the sunny part of the year and I was out in the sunny part of the day. My dad tanned fairly easily, but my mom was fair skinned. I’m in between—not as unlucky as some of my sisters who burn very easily, but I will certainly burn without sunscreen. I don’t think I burned today—because, yes, I remembered and used my sun screen.

4) Be an easy rider. No, don’t take off on a motorcycle. I mean where you might shift into “4,” it’s OK to use “2.” Take your time. No racing on a hot day—I was happy to “amble” on my bike. One advantage to biking is that, while you can pump hard and be Lance Armstrong, you can also pump lightly and be old Joe on a hot day. Take it from old Joe—today was a “and there’s Uncle Joe, he’s a moving kind of slow” day. And yes, a free earworm for those who remember 1960s sitcoms.

5) Dress like it’s hot. No, not shirtless—Arabs cover up for a reason. But light shirt and shorts. Saw some old people out today who seemed wildly overdressed. I suppose that’s more pleasant to see than old people wildly underdressed, but today was not a day for blue jeans or flannel, regardless of your age. I felt I was “hot appropriate” in my attire—modest (and I always try to be as a favor to the world), but shorts and a white cotton T shirt.

There you have, 5 rules that I hope will help you on your hot summer rides! As for me, I think I might actually be able to face the heat of RAGBRAI. It certainly felt like the last week of July in Iowa today!