In Which I Get Lost and Found

Me, with son-in-law's bike, ready for first ride.

Wednesday, June 19—my son-in-law is off on a business trip and gave me permission to borrow his bicycle.

Today is the first ride. I grab my new helmet and his bike. The immediate problem is that he has odd pedals—specialized toe clips that I assume fit some shoes he wears to ride. Comparatively, I have large, fat feet. Getting those big feet into his clips in my wider shoes proves challenging. Alternatively, I could ride with my feet on the uncomfortable back side of his pedals, but I worry I may be damaging his clip straps by scraping them on the ground, and the back side is clearly not intended for use. Or, I can sort of mash down his clips with my big feet—but again, I don’t want to cause any damage to these clips.

I compromise—use the back side in busy situations where I don’t have time to mess with the clips, but ride in the clips on a trail when I have more time. (On my second, Thursday ride, I was more used to the clips and it was far less of an issue).

But my main issue on this ride was to find Mariott’s Way (spelled with an apostrophe on a sign on the trail, without on the trail map, so I don’t know which is correct but then again, neither do the British), a large bicycle path that slices through Norwich from northeast to southwest and continues for miles in the countryside in either direction.

It is not far from my daughter-in-law’s house. But navigating English streets is a challenge.

There is the obvious problem of remembering to ride on the “opposite” side. I did have to constantly remind myself of that, although I didn’t ever forget. Of course, my instincts of how to watch for traffic were all backwards. However, that made less difference than I thought—by-streets are so narrow that traffic basically moves down the middle anyway, so the difference between the American right side and British left side was only theoretical.

Narrow British street (above) and narrow walkway behind house (below).

Anyway, I had my map and I was off. Very off. Getting lost proved quite easy.

Not too lost, mind you. The issue was finding Mariott’s Way—I never had the sense that I would be unable to get back to the house. I was trying to be careful to minimize turns and to recall landmarks whenever I did make a turn.

The problem was reading and interpreting the map. Now, I am old. That means I grew up long before Google, and map reading was a skill taught in my elementary school days. But interpreting a map in Norwich was different. For one thing, as an old Roman town, the city is arranged with a center from which roads spread out like the spokes of a bicycle wheel—there literally is no street grid. Finding a route that follows a compass direction is not the same as it is in the U.S. where most towns have rectangular grids of roads.

And the British are cute and coy with signage. On the main “spokes” from city center, street signs are rare. Their attitude seems to be that if you’re on a main road, you ought to know where you are, so there is no need of intersection street signs. Side streets are sometimes marked—now always—but the location and appearance of the signs are not in any way standard.

Is “Bobs Your Uncle” the name of a pub or the name of the alley-wide road? Well, if it’s also on the map, it’s a road—and the street signs, various as a they are, are lower and smaller than the signs for commercial establishments.

All in all, the first ride was mostly spent in going back and forth and failing to find the main, most obvious bike path in all of Norwich.

After some back-and-forth, complicated by the idea that I would never be able to repeat the route since I could not figure out how I got there in the first place, I found what seemed to be Mariott’s Way. Or at least I think I did. Hard to say. Mariott’s Way, in Norwich, is apparently a “main” bike road, which means there isn’t any reason for a sign to identify it, because you wouldn’t use it if you didn’t mean to, right?

Some scenes along the trail Wednesday. On Thursday, I could confirm that it was indeed the trail I was looking for.

I may sound like I’m whining. I suppose I am. I miss wide American streets, but mostly I miss rectangular street grids. Beyond that, I truly appreciate the American penchant for uniform and almost universal street corner signage. I suppose one reason the Brits don’t do this is because their walkways and streets are so narrow that such signs would take up valuable space at corners, but trust me English cousins, it’s totally worth it.

But despite the whine, it was a cool and pretty afternoon—cloudy but nice, and I did enjoy being out and moving on the bicycle. I rode a mile or so down the bike trail, presuming it was the one I wanted, and vowed to return the next day (by more direct route) for a longer ride.

Thursday, June 20—We have minor travel plans today. After dropping the kids off at school, we head over to the Coop to get a sim card for my wife’s phone. In preparation for today’s ride, on Wednesday night my daughter and I installed a new card in my phone—and wonder of wonders, I have now a fully functioning mobile phone in the UK!

The attempt to do the same for my wife ended in frustration, for now. Anyway, after the morning shopping, my daughter drove us to a bookshop somewhere in the Norfolk countryside. It was an interesting place—a shop that appeared to be located in someone’s country home, with a longish room stuffed with a dizzying array of children’s books. Our luggage for the return flight home may be a bit heavier.

We stopped at a tea room at a nearby sort of shopping mall for arts and crafts. By the time we got home, it was time to think of the afternoon school run—which I didn’t go on. Bicycle time!

Walkway along a river, somewhere in Norwich. I feel I should not be riding Matt's bike here, but then again I got innocently lost.

 Everything was a bit easier, this time. I had a plan to manage the toe clips. (Matthew, they were frozen by rust in your settings, but rust will respond to vigorous force—check the clips before you ride again, they have been made looser to fit much larger feet).

I got to the trail and cycled north. It was a sunnier day, some broken clouds, but some blue sky, too. I brought my sunglasses, but hadn’t worn then on the half-mile trek to the trail, partly because I wanted the best vision possible to the spot the subtle bread crumbs of signs left by the British. The trail was so shady that I ended up sans shades for the whole ride.

I rode as far as the village of Darby, probably a 4-mile journey. Half of that was on dirt, and recent rains had made parts of that ride a bit muddy, so I decided to stick to paved, urban trail in Norwich proper. I headed towards city center next, and somewhere near a river I lost the trail. I had a short ride along the river, which was pretty, and I apologize to all the fishers whose walkway I inadvertently intruded upon, but then again, Brits, if you don’t want wandering Americans lost on your sidewalks, you might consider more obvious signs.

I rode back and forth on several miles of paved trail in town. Next week, when I will be riding a rented bike, I intend to go farther, paying more attention to the trail and hopefully making it through Norwich to explore in the southern direction—but did not today partly because I wanted to avoid City Center in rush hour. Still, the Thursday ride was nice.

Map My Ride functions again, and in an hour and 50 minutes I rode 18 miles. I hope to top 50 on at least one day next week, but for now I feel a sense of success. I have found the trail! Way out in Darby I even found a sign that confirmed it as Marriott’s Way!

Hooray for signs!

A sign! And below, seen from the trail Thursday, a horse!

In Which Plans are Made for UK Adventures

Purchased at the bike shop, a bicycle map of Norwich.

I’m still finding my way around Norwich, England. My wife and I are to handle the school drop off Thursday morning, and there are two challenges: It may rain. And we may struggle to find our way back again.

Hopefully, the granddaughters will help us find their schools. If I were the kid, I might intentionally get my grandparents lost—“Oh, darn, can’t find the school today, guess I can’t go”—but, fortunately, I don’t think my granddaughters are either that devious or my wife and I that seriously directionally impaired. Then again, we do have a talent for getting lost.

And I’m set to begin another phase of my English adventures, too. Today in a bike shop, I scheduled to rent a bicycle next week. And my son-in-law leaves for a trip tomorrow, so before then I may be able to borrow his bike (I packed a new bicycle helmet for this vacation in the UK).

Map of Norwich, England, bike routes. Unlike many American cities, arranged in a rectangular grid, this  is an old Roman city arranged as a wheel with spokes. May that be a good omen. Wish me luck.

Stay tuned. Hopefully, your biking correspondent will figure out how to navigate the streets of Norwich well enough that you’ll hear from him again. The map may help—I hope so! Because no google on the fly—I can check my phone at my daughter’s house where there is WIFI, but otherwise the phone is merely a pocket watch and camera while I am in the UK.

Well, wish me luck. You’ll know if I achieve it, because I’m sure I’ll report on my English biking adventures.

In Which We Bike the ’Boji Trails

Bicycle ride Monday afternoon on trail near Okoboji.

My wife and I had some interesting bicycle rides recently. Earlier this month, we rode the Grant Wood Trail in Jones County—and discovered how short it is there. And last week, we took a longer ride in the Okoboji area, where we were staying for a few days babysitting a grandson while our daughter attended a county attorney conference.

June 7 was the last day of school for Strawberry Hill Elementary in Anamosa. We watched grandchildren complete a racing club that morning, cheering them on as they ran the final mile of a 26-mile (Marathon) running club.

We then took our bikes to the small town of Martelle, intending to get a few miles in on the Grant Wood Trail. As it turned out, it was very few miles indeed.

Like many tiny Iowa rural towns, Martelle seems to be more about what was than what is. It has a school, which appears long closed, and quiet streets in the middle of the day. We used Google maps to get to the trail head, and go on our bikes. And rode away from town first, for maybe 5 minutes or so. The trail suddenly ends. So we headed the other way, through town.

Tiny as the town is, I think we got as many “miles,” as in maybe 1, riding in town as we did on the trail.

In Martelle (above), Grant Wood Trail stub near town (below).

Well, no matter. After our short ride, we drove to Anamosa and strolled downtown for a while until school was out.

Our second recent new trail ride was a bit more satisfactory. On June 10, we were in Okoboji. One of our daughters works as an assistant attorney for the local county prosecutor, and she was attending a four-day statewide conference, an update put on by the County Attorney Association and the Iowa Attorney General’s office.

We were with her partly to enjoy Iowa’s vacation hotspot, but mostly to care for a 3-year-old grandson. On Monday afternoon, they (mother and son) were going to meet another attorney’s family at a water park, so my wife and I went on a bicycle ride. I had brought bikes for all of us on the trip, including a seat on my hybrid bike for the grandson, but on this ride, it was just the two of us.

My wife tracked the ride on her GPS, and I think it ended up being a bit more than 10 miles. We rode north from Okoboji to the town of Spirit Lake, and then turned back. We crossed Highway 71 to head west on a side trail, and ended up riding on a loop by the Dickinson County Nature Center and an art museum.

It was a pleasant, surprisingly cool summer day. We enjoyed the outdoor art by the museum, and the clear sky.

I was able to keep up with my wife, but I noticed after we got home that my wife’s front brake is sticky. Usually, when I ride the hybrid with her I have to work pretty hard to keep up, but it wasn’t so bad this day.

Ussie on our Monday ride.

Okoboji has a trail system that is both very nice and a bit dicey at the same time. As a well-used vacation location, traffic is pretty heavy, even on a weekday (I can’t imagine riding there on a warm Saturday). And the trail isn’t always well marked—we unintentionally paralleled it for a while on the wrong sidewalk because it had taken a jog across a street that no sign indicated—we again encountered the trail in Spirit Lake and discovered where we went wrong on the way south.

Dickinson County, thank you for such nice trails. It may be time, however, to paint some additional markers on the route and check out where signs may be needed. Follow some old biker sometime, and he’ll clue you in.

Critters seen on Monday ride-toad (above) and turtle (below, pulled into his or her shell).

Anyway, Tuesday was the rain day, but we thoroughly enjoyed the Dickenson County Nature Center, which I may write about on one of my other blogs.

Wednesday was a family ride—I put the toddler seat on Clarence (the hybrid bike), and unlocked all three bicycles. Our motel was not far from the trail, but it was on Highway 71, so we put the bikes on the van and drove to a nearby trailhead.

We headed south this time, going through Okoboji. It was a bit busy from a pedestrian-traffic point of view, but after a while we got to some pretty scenery, riding for a while through trees and beside some bodies of water.

The grandson enjoyed the first half of the ride, but nodded off. The day was a bit windy, so to save some distance, we rode sidewalks along Highway 71 to get back rather than taking the trail all the way.

After we arrived at the van, I put my daughter’s and my wife’s bicycles back on the van as my daughter loaded the sleepy grandson. After taking the toddler seat off, I took off on a solo ride north.

I don’t know exactly where I went—I didn’t have a map with me—but I rode through Spirit Lake until I encountered lakes. On the smaller one, I enjoyed watching some pretty white pelicans. The larger one was pretty, but rather choppy on this breezy afternoon, so I saw little boat traffic.

The trail had a sign that indicated the bike route continued along a county highway to the right, but there was no paved shoulder. Not wanting to ride in such proximity to cars, I turned back at that point. All in all, I think I rode about 25 miles that afternoon—it’s not a wild guess, I was using Map My Ride, so I know it was in that neighborhood.

More new biking adventures may be coming soon! CR Biker will be visiting the UK before RAGBRAI, and I packed a new biking helmet for the trip!

Seen on my solo Wednesday journey. My crane images did not work out, too distant, but a cute family of ducks (above) was on the same lake. Below, sign at my turnaround point, I had been heading up a "wind hill" going north, my speed changed from 8 mph or so to 12 mph when I turned around. Bottom, nice to see Alliant Energy flying pride flag, even in Steve King territory.

In Which I Visit the New Bridge

Parked at new bridge (above) and view from new bridge (below) north of Center Point.

40 miles today—had some afternoon commitments, and if I had started a bit earlier and gone later, I may have aimed to break 60. It was a quick 40, north on the Cedar Valley Nature Trail. Usually, I turn around at Center Point, but today continued on to see the new bridge just north of town.

It looks nice. Sometime, on a different bicycle, I may continue north. Today, I turned around, and did the loop to the park in Robin both ways to make my 40-mile goal.

RAGBRAI, honestly, I am not ready for you. But I am working on it!

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 We Break Out the Tandem

Tandem on the driveway after the ride.

Today, on a warm and humid Iowa day, I rode to campus to meet with students, and then took the longer trail route home. My wife and I worked on the gardens for a while, ate supper and then got the tandem bike out for the first ride of the season.

It was again a bit of a learning curve. Starting on a tandem is the tricky part, that and remembering to “narrate,” to say when, for example, you want to stop pedaling. There were a few times when I started too quickly and my wife was unable to get her feet in position—and other times when I had trouble getting the bike to go because the position of the pedals didn’t allow me to pump.

Well, we still managed to go out the Lowe Park. It was my wife’s first view of the new playground they are building there, and we’re both excited to see the results. We think it will be a favored park for the grandkids when it opens.

We decided not to use the Boyson Trail on the way back—home climbing the hill there with the tandem might be an ordeal. We may inspect the new playground again soon on our separate bikes and do a trail ride then. Or, we may use the tandem, if the weather has been dryer and we feel more confident about unpaved trail conditions.

Still, although we were getting used to the tandem again, and it was humid, the first tandem ride of 2019 was pleasant.

In Which I Meet a Mystery Snake and See a Fall

Gate in Lafayette made of bike wheels.

The plan: Rise and shine, get an early start, do a long RAGBRAI training ride, perhaps over 50 miles.

The reality: Awaken at 5 a.m., decide (correctly) that that is ridiculously early, read a Donald Westlake novel for an hour or so, fall back asleep. Arise around 9 a.m. Eat breakfast, get dressed—these days, I take close to two hours to get going. End up conversing via WhatsAp with a remote daughter, and by then it’s pushing lunch time. Eat lunch.

And hit the road about 1 p.m. Not exactly an early start, and not likely as a candidate for a 50-mile day. Still, I did about 37 miles and was home by 5, and close to 40 miles in four hours is a pretty good pace for a slow, old biker.

Wheel gate

I started out by doing the Brentwood Hill, and then headed over to the Cedar River Trail. I was trying a new bike tracking ap, which either didn’t work all that well or that I have not figured out yet. Luckily, my touchy, unreliable computer on my road bike decided to record the whole ride, which is how I know the mileage total. I rode, fairly quickly for me, north to Center Point and then to the edge of town where pavement ends. I thought of continuing to inspect the new bridge, but I didn’t really want to ride on limestone with the road bike, so I turned around.

Shortly after leaving Center Point, I encountered a rather large snake on the trial. I stopped to shoot its image, and it coiled up and reared at me. I kept more than a body’s length distance between me and it, so as long as it could not leap into the air, I was OK. In fact, I probably was OK anyway, most snakes in Iowa are harmless. I think, based on looking at google, that it’s a Western Fox Snake.

Snake and my bike, above. Other view of snake, below.

Well, I thought that was pretty cool. I like seeing snakes, and think I got some good images of this one.

However, when I got close to Robins, I was moving pretty fast, maybe 17 mph, when I was passed by a couple, and a man and woman. We were close to the main street that goes through that town, and they were stopped in front of me by traffic, so I almost caught up by the time we go to the corner. They crossed the street, and the woman wobbled and then turned sharply left—I’m not sure if she meant to, but the man ran into her and they both tumbled to the ground.

Cars (and I) stopped, and asked if they were OK. I was a bit worried by the way the woman was holding her arm, and I hope she didn’t break anything—but they insisted they were OK, so I pedaled on.

It was a decent RAGBRAI training ride, even if not as far as planned. But I fell last week in San Francisco, and now this couple fell in Robins. Rule of threes? Can we be done for the summer please? Although I would not mind another snake sighting.