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!

In Which. Luckily, Not Quite A Year Has Passed

Quick stop at Cedar Lake--enjoying the fact that the back tyre is no longer flat, and I have two new tyres on the bike.

I didn’t recall the exact date, but apparently it was 363 days ago that Audrey got me one of the coolest Father’s Day-birthday-Christmas presents—my road bike, Argent.

If you read this blog, you know what happened Sunday. I rode Argent north and ended the ride with a flat in Urbana.

Well, today I took the bike into Northtowne. I planned to buy a tyre and tube, and maybe a second tyre because the front one looked a bit worn, to me.

I showed the front tyre to a sales person, and he suggested having a bike mechanic give his opinion. The mechanic said the front tyre was still usable, but did look worn and cracked. He thought maybe the wear was a bit too much for a year.

So they looked it up. And Argent is two days from having its warranty expire. So instead of having to buy two tyres and a tube and spend an unpleasant hour replacing them myself, I was able to leave the bike, go home, mow the lawn, eat supper and then return to the bike shop, where the bike mechanic had put on the new tyres.

Because it was shy of a year, I only had to pay for the tube. That was a pretty good deal.

It was around 7, but my wife had suggested I could ride the bike after I picked it up. So I went for a quick spin, down to Cedar Lake on the Cedar River Trail. It’s not much, and I didn’t do the hill climb today, but I did ride about 14 miles. I’m hoping for more tomorrow, and it is very nice that the bike was fixed so quickly.

Cedar Lake again. Shortly after snapping this image, I paused to turn on lights.

In Which 25 Miles Ends in an Urbana Flat

Saw several of these signs on Cedar Valley Nature Trail. 

At about 5 p.m. Sunday, I texted my wife. I don’t recall the exact wording, and I’m too lazy to go find my phone, but the message was about whether I should turn around or push on to Urbana.

I had left home about 3, ridden up the Brentwood Drive hill twice, and then headed north on the Cedar Valley Nature Trail.

“Push on to Urbana,” my wife texted back, or something like that. So, I did.

They are doing some project along the Cedar Valley Nature Trail, there was lots of places on the trail that have loose rock, and new electric poles have been put in north of Center Point. It was warm and nice, but very quiet past Center Point—unlike the Hiawatha end of the trail where there were many bikers. Now, I was in the countryside alone.

Trail north of Center Point--a little barren looking where vegetation was cleared as new electric poles were put in. Beautiful day for a bike ride.

I had originally planned to go to Center Point, and with the Brentwood Hill climbs tossed in, maybe make it to 30 miles or so. Adding the leg to Urbana would make the ride more than 40, possibly pushing 50, although it would also mean it would be pretty late by the time I got back home.

On the other hand, I’d been fighting wind most of the way to Center Point, and that headwind would become a back wind to speed me home. But, as I went north of Center Point, it got worse. The trail conditions got softer, the wind got stiffer and more in my face, and my speed, which had been around 14 to 15 mph most of the way, dropped to 10 or below. I began to doubt if I would make it to Urbana.

But then I shot through the tunnel under Interstate 380, and realized I didn’t have far to go. I haven’t been to Urbana a lot, but I remembered there wasn’t a ton of miles between I-380 and that Benton County village.

But, as I pushed on, the trail seemed to become even mushier. And a voice in the back of my mind began to question if it was all the trail. Sometimes, when a bike ride gets harder and “mushier,” it simply means there’s a problem with your rear tyre.

I could see the Urbana water tower, however, so I pushed on. And when I stopped at the park, I felt the rear tyre.

End of the ride for Argent. Bike rack in park in Urbana. You may not be able to see it, but trust me--the rear tyre is flat.

Mush. I thought about trying to ride back south before it got flatter, but as soft as it was, that didn’t seem like a good option. At least I was in a town, so I phoned my wife, and she and my daughter and grandson were out shopping and agreed to swing by to pick me up. (No, they were not shopping in Urbana—they had never been to Urbana before—but since they were already out, it wasn’t too hard to hop on I-380 and drive a few miles north to pick me up. Urbana is a challenging bike ride, but not so much in the way of a drive.)

Did you know a robin can yell
with a worm in its beak? Trust me.

I had about half an hour alone in the park, other than two Urbana urchins who were riding a scooter and bike. I photographed my bike, and wasted a few minutes photographing the flag in the park. I wasn’t very serious about it—I liked the light, but trying to catch a waving flag in a good pose on a windy day is tougher than it sounds. Check the end of this post and see what you think, but honestly I only shot a dozen or so images. If I was serious and had a good camera, I would have shot 100 and gotten a good one.

I checked my tyre now and then, and confirmed the wisdom of the phone call—the tyre quickly went all the way flat. If I had tried to ride south, I merely would have stranded myself somewhere more obscure than Urbana.

Well, the rescue squad came. They even wanted to go to Culver’s for supper, which was not a bad deal. I’ll get new tyres (both are worn) and a new tube tomorrow, and then I will get my lone bicycle back in riding shape.

Glad I charged up my cell phone before the ride!

And next time I want to aim for 50 miles on my bicycle, I think I’ll turn around at Schultz Road and head south. Argent is clearly meant for pavement.

Old Glory in Urbana. Windy day for a ride, and I never got the benefit of the wind aiding me.

In Which I Resist the Lure of a Bridge

Two views of new bridge on Boyson Trail June 4. I did not cross it yet, because I don't think the trail near the bridge is meant to be ridden on, yet.

I was taking a slightly indirect route to and from the gym this morning—rode about 6 miles in total, and climbed the Brentwood Drive hill three times—the east route, the west route and the Windsor route.

Anyway, on the way home from the gym, I decided to check on the bridge project that has closed part of the Boyson Trail.

As you can see, the sign says it’s still closed, but the trail appears to lead to the bridge. A pedestrian headed towards me, however, said the trail by the bridge was very soft, and someone had tossed some caution cones in the creek.

Well, that doesn’t seem very nice, especially when this project benefits trail users. I decided patience was called for, and rather than leave ruts from my road bike in the soft, unfinished trail surface, I used the detour.

Still, the new bridge looks very nice! I’m sure I’ll cross it soon. After the signs are down, however, and I would urge other bikers to resist the lure of a bridge, too.

In Which I Work To Earn Sore Legs

This morning, on top of Brentwood Drive hill. I climbed the hill from east and west. I've looked at hills from both sides now.

On the MMU Bike Club shirt, there is a quote: “I can’t feel my legs when I’m with you, but I love it.”

That sums up today’s ride. I was to go to campus and do some scheduling work on the Fall Faculty Series, but was waylaid by sunshine. I rode the trail route, and Argent just did not turn towards campus. I started out about 10:30 a.m. and two hours later found myself, a bit bleary and sore, resting at a picnic table in Ely.

Pond in Ely City Park. View about 12:20 p.m.

What is it? Yeah, if you look at picture above you can probably figure it out. The table I'm sitting at in Ely.

All in all, I rode about 44 miles today in three rides. I did about 5 this morning going to and from the gym (several hill climbs of Brentwood Drive in there, the gym is about a mile from my house, to get 5-miles on that 2-mile round trip does require a somewhat less than the crow flies kind of route). I did three hill climbs this morning, which was pretty good.

The ride to Ely and then to campus must have been in the low 30s. I recall that I had ridden 20 miles to get to Ely, so that seems about right. Although I rested for 10 minutes in Ely, I think that’s just a mid-ride intermission, so the ride to MMU from there was just a short second act.

Ride number three was to come home. I did stop in my office, managed to wolf down lunch quickly while dealing with some emails, and then I took a 30-minute nap. At this early point in my RAGBRAI training, a warm 30-mile ride will wear me out.

I haven’t been getting as much time on bike as I would like, but today does count as a significant ride. It also shows that I do need to train pretty hard—RAGBRAI will be 60-mile hilly rides on days in a row, and right now one 40-something ride left me pretty worn.

Although, to my credit, I did ride the Brentwood Hill one last time on the way home. I figure that, just like happens so often on RAGBRAI, finishing a long ride with a hill climb is good practice.

May 29 view of Cedar River from trail in late afternoon. My daughter and I were riding.

Anyway, the preceding paragraph would have been the end, but wait, there is more. Last Sunday, one of my daughters and I took a late afternoon ride of some 20 miles or so, down to the first bridge past Mt. Trashmore on the Cedar River Trail and back. On the way, we stopped at Greene Square, and then looked at the Grant Wood statue at the library. I also photographed another statue near a brewery downtown.

May 29--my daughter and I with father-daughter art at CR Library. Brewery pair from same day below.

It occurs to me that my daughter, sister and I should do a Tour de Grant ride. If it's a weekend, my wife might be persuaded to come, too, and we could try the new ice cream shop in New Bo. What do you guys think?

Sun nears horizon near the end of our Sunday ride. Beautiful, warm sunny days in Iowa!

In Which I Rescue Milkweed on the Lafayette Ride

It was this kind of day on the Cedar Valley Nature Trail. Pretty sky and and lots of bikers out.

Man is a tool-using animal, and I was picking out a piece of wood at the Boyson Road trail head.

It was a digging stick. I planned a plant relocation project.

More on that later. The first ride of the season to Lafayette was gorgeous, a perfect Sunday afternoon in late May. Sunshine with pretty clouds, and lots of people were out on the trail. If I didn’t have a birthday party that afternoon, I’m sure I would have carried on to Center Point, but no matter.

It was great to be on the trail.

I even spotted several tricycles of the type that Brigid and Eldson Rocca ride, and I wondered where these Cedar Rapids riders had acquired those vehicles.

On the road to Lafayette. Two groups of tricycle riders I saw.

Anyway, I climbed the Brentwood Hill to begin my 24-mile trek, and then took the north route. In the little commercial area at Boyson Road and C Avenue, I noticed it—a milkweed plant, growing right next to the sidewalk in a mowed area of grass. Well, that won’t do—that plant is bound to be mowed, and it’s young enough—maybe I can dig it up.

But, you understand the problem. You can’t just pluck milkweed, even small milkweed, from the ground. Like an iceberg, what you don’t see is how much of that plant is a tick, deep tap root.

So after a very satisfying bike ride to Lafayette, I was at the trail head looking for a stick. I picked up several near a burning bush, but it turns out burning bush wood is delicate and breakable. So I ended up grabbing a stick under an oak tree. Oak is a tougher wood.

And I dug diligently around the milkweed, trying to loosen soil around its deep root. But you know what happened. It always does. The root broke off. There was enough below the soil line, about 3 inches on a plant less than 4 inches tall, and I decided I might as well take the wounded plant home and try.

So I stuck it in my water bottle and carried it home. I don’t have much hope that it will add up to anything—transplanted milkweed is very dicey. But we’ll see. One of these days I’ll get milkweed going in my garden.

And even if it’s wasn’t a great day for trying to rescue a doomed butterfly habitat, at least it was a wonderful afternoon to ride 24 miles!

I tried to rescue this milkweed. Don't know if I succeeded.

In Which the Only Bike in the ’Verse Goes Greene

Must be summer. Bike gloves and sandals.

Sadly, I’m down to one bike, again. The Beast had its back wheel repaired not long ago, but I broke a spoke again (to me, it looks like the new one the bike shop put in is the one that broke which doesn’t make me happy).

Anyway, this afternoon I decided to take my first real RAGBRAI training ride of this young summer, so I took Argent out around 2, with the plan to head to Lafayette.

But the sky looks a bit ominous, many dark clouds. And, sure enough, as I neared the Cedar River Trail in Hiawatha, it started to sprinkle. I did ride north for a while, but the rain picked up a bit, and I decided I would rather be in town than 7 miles north should things get worse. So at Robins, I turned around.

And, of course, as I got back to Hiawatha, some patches of blue appeared and the sun shone.

Still, there were clouds south and west, and I decided the universe was trying to tell me a city ride was a good idea. I rode south on the trail, pausing at Cedar Lake to eat a bag of nuts and a box of raisins. I didn’t have a particular goal in mind, and the sky was looking iffy again, but it occurred to me that I had not experienced the new Greene Square Park, yet.

Heading south through Hiawatha, maybe I could have gone to Lafayette after all.

Cedar Lake with bicycle, as I eat some nuts.

Well, a columnist in the Gazette was pretty positive about it, and after seeing it, I kind of agree. I don’t know how long it will stay “cool,” but it does sort of unite the main library and the art museum with a new, pleasant vibe. I’m not wild about the giant worm, but public art does make a place feel more, well, arty.

Some Greene Square images--public art and art museum. An art installation by the library. And line of a line of Ginkgo trees.

As I was wandering the park and photographing it, I noticed an art installment—a “People of Cedar Rapids” set of images on doors by the library. One of them is Jane Gilmor, a retired art professor from MMU.

Jane in the park. Hi Jane!

From the park, I could also see three of the Grant Wood American Gothic statues that are displayed around Cedar Rapids. As I did the tour de Gothic around the park, it started to rain again.

Top image is Gothic by the library. Middle two are by the Gazette. Bottom, as should be obvious, is by art museum.

But the rain ended quickly as I started home. I had begun the ride by climbing Brentwood Hill. As I neared home, my odometer read about 25 miles. Well ….

I took a detour down Lindale Trail and wasted some time and distance on the Boyson Road trail. That got me on the other side of the hill so I could bookend my ride with hill climbs, and also meant my total miles added up to my age 27 years ago—30.

All in all, it was a nice first ride of summer, although the rain is optional.

View of Cedar Lake as I head north.