Posts Tagged ‘bike ride’
Willy Nilly
I put in a few more miles on the bike yesterday, making my way down to the Rush River valley. That is such an invigorating drop in elevation from the flat farm fields to the bottom of the tree-covered, steep-sloped valley below. The road follows the river, with multiple low bridges where the water meanders back and forth until it gets confusing which side it’s on for a minute or two.
At the turn that leads to the Vino in the Valley restaurant, I paused for a brief chat with a couple of fly fishermen who were just about to head down to get their waders wet in pursuit of the perfect casting spots.
The restaurant wasn’t open; however, there were some people who were out shooting in the open field. I pedaled up the driveway, but wasn’t able to speak with anyone. I had guessed they might be skeet shooting, but it looked more like hunting for burrowing varmints at ground level. I chose not to interrupt.
I was hoping to ask about the giant teepee of large branches out in the middle of the open field. If that is for a burn, it is going to be one heck of a bonfire. Checking their calendar of events, I see they are holding a music festival on the 5th of September. Maybe it gets burned then.
Back home, in the afternoon, I did a little mowing in a manner I call “Cyndie Style.” We have company coming for lunch today, and Cyndie wanted the grotesquely tall foxtail grass and various weeds along the edges trimmed. It’s all been neglected because I’m trying to stay off the dead grass to avoid turning it into a dusty hellscape.
So, instead of methodically mowing entire sections with straight passes, I simply drove willy-nilly to any spot that had noticeable patches of tall growth while strategically avoiding any area of scorched turf. For the most part, I think it worked. Looks good enough to me for a drought-scape.
After the exhausting effort of sitting on the mower, or maybe it was the hours of pedalling earlier in the morning, I sat down in the yard with Asher. It didn’t take long for me to conk out in the chair. I’m happy to report that Asher was still there when I opened my eyes again. But we weren’t alone.
This was the sight that greeted me just to my left:
Was he trying to sneak up on me as I slept? I shuddered at the thought. At least snakes are much easier to spot in the scalded grass. I immediately pointed the snake out to Asher, hoping he would protect me from its advances.
He was entirely uninterested. Didn’t give it a second glance.
After a looong stare-down, the snake eventually did a 180 and rapidly headed for the cover of brush at the edge of the mowed yard. I reckon wildlife around our place must be putting a lot of energy into finding a drink of water lately. Maybe desperation led him to expose himself like that.
Extreme thirst can lead to some willy-nilly decisions, I suppose. I sure am glad my little nap ended when it did.
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Tough Days
Since I didn’t need to mow any grass yesterday, I went for a bike ride. It was only a short ride in the late afternoon, but it was my first pedalling in three and a half weeks. I need to do a little more conditioning via hours on the saddle in preparation for a week of riding with 4 of my cycling besties beginning on Labor Day weekend. We will be heading to Missouri to ride the Katy Trail, which crosses the majority of the state from west to east.
It’s practically like riding from Kansas City to St. Louis.
The grass in front of Cyndie’s perennial garden doesn’t really resemble grass anymore.
It looks more like a brown rug.
Over by the barn, there is clear evidence that shade can make a huge difference in protecting grass from the harsh, baking sunshine.
It looks like a shadow of the maple tree canopy over that slope.
Tough days lately. Both Dolly Parton (80) and Tim Curry (80) died; our grass is dying; and Nepal and Tibet have had a massive flash flood that created a wall of water, mud, and debris that slammed into people, buildings, and bridges. The videos are harrowing to watch.
People the world over could use a hug. Let’s cut ourselves a little extra slack for a while as we cope with so much loss all at once. Put some energy into producing healthy doses of love and send them out into the physical and spiritual worlds in waves upon waves. The more we send, the more that will find its way back over us.
A healing balm for others and for ourselves.
Peace to you, dear readers. Namaste.
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Bird Songs
When we stepped out the door yesterday morning, the songbirds were in full symphony. Initially, I noticed a red-bellied woodpecker making a repeated shout-out in a tree just overhead. In the background, we kept hearing a cheery melody that neither of us recognized.
Our bird ID app isolated it in no time as a Baltimore Oriole, a most welcome visitor to our property. These gorgeous birds are nowhere near as prevalent as the robins, cardinals, and 5 or 6 other common birds we see every day. After we identified the oriole’s distinct song, it became the soundtrack of our day.
Not only was the oriole vocal, but it also made a special appearance right outside our window. It likes the hummingbird feeder.
After getting our front yard mowed with the push mower, I went for a little bike ride to christen my new, more aggressive tread tires. To my great satisfaction, the difference in rolling resistance compared to my previous slick tires was difficult to discern.
They may roll like my old tires, but they definitely improved my confidence in coping with the wide variety of surface conditions, from rough pavement to occasional gravel. I decided to see how my legs would feel riding the entire time without battery assist. Oof da. I’m definitely not in long-distance riding shape. The many hills I needed to climb took a toll.
I take some solace in the fact that the ride didn’t entirely wipe me out for the rest of the day. Mowing resumed, using both the riding mower (which didn’t trip the error code –go figure) and the push mower. And all the while, the oriole was serenading us with its song.
We consider it a great treat whenever a less common visitor stops by, be it a songbird, pileated woodpecker, sandhill cranes, or any of the birds of prey that occasionally show up. They are all a lot more interesting than the rabbits, raccoons, and deer that are around all the time, and rile up Asher’s angst every time.
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Truly Gorgeous
We were blessed with about as nice a day for bike riding in late October as one could hope for in our part of the world. Afternoon temperatures rose into the 60s(F) yesterday, and we enjoyed every bit of it.
Our gang of intrepid pedalers reached Stillwater in what felt like a blink of time. When we arrived at the photo frame, a mom was taking a picture of her daughter. Bob volunteered to take a picture of them both. In turn, she agreed to take a picture of us. We asked Lilly to stay and be in our picture, too. Her mom said Lilly smiled bigger for ours than when posing with Mom.
Before stopping for some lunch, we rode up and over the Hwy 36 bridge, pausing for a portrait in the middle, overlooking the beautiful St. Croix River.
On the other side, we were in Wisconsin for a short loop before dropping down a big hill to cross the old lift bridge that is now limited to bikes and pedestrians. This delivered us back to the bustling energy of families with young kids in Halloween costumes, enjoying festivities along the riverfront.
Navigating our way to a little market where a few of us purchased something to eat, we took advantage of public tables to consume some sustenance.
I brought my own lunch.
Bob gave me a thumbs-up of approval.
While sitting there, I caught sight of a very attractive woman approaching from the market with her arms full and visibly gushing with a glow of love. She was looking at an equally handsome man who was cuddling a tiny bundle that I knew had to be their beautiful baby.
I couldn’t help myself as they tucked the blanketed cherub into their pram and prepared to move on. I approached them to let them know how truly gorgeous it was to witness their obvious love and joy radiating so unmistakably. Their baby was 9 weeks old. Their happiness was such a delight to see.
I’m glad to have intruded on their space because they seemed really delighted with my gushing over them, and that rewarded me with a burst of their love energy.
The ride back to our cars was a continuation of superb cycling weather and scenery, and we reached just under 30 miles ridden by the time we finished.
I wonder if my legs will feel stiff in the next 24 hours. I hadn’t been on the bike since we did the Mickelson Trail in South Dakota.
I’m really grateful I didn’t pass up this opportunity to get out and enjoy the fabulous day and my fabulous cycling friends.
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Taking Advantage
Unlike my usual mode of operation where I dig into a big project that commands the bulk of my day, I set about trying to touch as many little tasks as possible to take advantage of this quick dose of summer-like weather that has shown up. We hit 80°F yesterday!
One technique I employed was to simply jump on whatever popped into view and do a minimum amount of work to achieve satisfactory progress.
The easiest of these is continuing to pick up a winters-worth of fallen branches wherever I turn. I tidied up the barn a bit since it was delivery day for bags of feed. That triggered the moving of Cyndie’s treasured picnic table made from a repurposed door out to her chosen location beneath a giant old tree in the woods by the house –kicking away fallen branches as I went.
I was eager to clean out the flattened ornamental tall grass by the shop garage. Nothing fancy here. I kicked my perfectionistic desires aside and focused on the intention of making short work of it.
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I made a point of getting the horse water fountain cleaned while the herd was out grazing new sprouting blades of grass in the back pasture. Of course, they eventually noticed I was up to something and came running in to check on me. I hustled to replace the stopper so the pans would start filling with water. Light didn’t wait and poked her nose in to drink before I was able to get the cover on that muffles the loud spraying from the water valve.
Then she circled back to get in proper order behind Swings, who politely waited until I had collected my things and headed up to the barn. All four of them looked rather cute lined up nose-to-tail to take turns at the waterer.
The best way to take advantage of a summery day in April is to go for a bike ride, so that was something I intended to fit in with as little extra effort as possible. Having an E-bike made this much easier for me. Gliding along with an electric assist made my first ride of the season on the local hills more of a pleasure cruise than a strenuous workout.
Keeping it short and sweet got me back home in time to feed the horses their evening rations.
Even though it feels like summer, there is still snow to be melted. The pile of snow that slid off the hay shed lands on the shady side of the structure. It might be the last snow to exist on our property this year.
My last task of the day was to do a little light housekeeping so Cyndie wouldn’t return to a complete disaster. It’s only been a week but I feel like I will need to adjust to having a housemate again. I’ve enjoyed being able to leave my things laying around without having them be in someone else’s way.
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Went Biking
The weather was so fine yesterday, the only thing to tarnish the great outdoors was harassment by flying insects. I put in over 40-miles of pedaling through the gorgeous countryside of northern Wisconsin on my new e-bike and put the new technology to use precisely how I imagined it would benefit me.
I started my ride with the battery-powered assist kept off and rode comfortably for twenty miles, exploring a route of spontaneous decisions to choose my turns. Having a motor provides confidence that if I end up riding farther from home than my legs are strong enough to support, assistance awaits.
The lure of the road to Moose Lake and a gorgeous view of the Chippewa River had me riding a stretch of pavement to the east that was much farther than my vague memory recalled. At least it was mostly flat terrain, so that eased the effort, but that also makes it easier to overextend my total distance.
If I had just cut out the long section to the east, I could easily have finished the loop around our lake without electric assist.
As it was, after 25 miles I was ready for a little help. My average speed changed from 13 to 17 mph for the assisted portion of my ride, which is so interesting because my legs were tired but I was rolling along with the ease of having a strong wind at my back.
The first half of my ride through the great forests of this region was an exercise in whitetail deer dodging. I encountered at least 15 single deer spread out along the roads I’d picked. One was obscured by brush beyond the ditch and didn’t react until I was right beside it. Luckily, it darted away from the road and not right into me, but it still startled me when it reacted.
Another stood in the road from so far away that I wasn’t sure that it was even a deer. I hoped it wasn’t a dog, and then as I got closer and it got bigger, I hoped it wasn’t a bear. Then the definitive outline of the head and ears became clear and I wondered if I was going to ride smack into its side because it held that stance for so long. I was coasting in preparation to brake when it finally started walking away as I got within ten yards of it.
I wished I’d thought to pull my camera out of the pocket of my jersey because that would have been a great picture, but if I’d done that the deer probably wouldn’t have moved until I’d rolled right into it.
The only pictures I took were at a rest stop with this empty field and the newly budding trees on the far border. I quickly put the camera away because the tiny black flies made rolling along with a breeze the better option.
Much of the latter portion of my chosen route was on narrow-shoulder, high-speed traffic county roads that kept both of my hands safely on the controls.
Final opinion: I am very, VERY happy with my new e-bike.
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Pedaling Upwind
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Seriously, we agreed to go, and even paid for the privilege of riding bicycles in a region that is so windy that they hold National Championship windsurfing competitions and power companies put up wind turbine farms.
What were we thinking?
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Maybe more of us would have thought twice about dealing with that wind if we would have known that the region was also going to be soaked by repeating waves of massive thunderstorms creating flash floods that closed roads, destroyed crops, and trapped a lot of cows.
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We witnessed innumerable fields with large amounts of topsoil sediment dropped in the lowest draining corner, and even more fields with massive amounts of previous year’s dead stalks and debris pushed into piles where it flowed over roads, or dropped in winding patterns when flood waters receded.
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Luckily, the camaraderie and shared accomplishment of like-minded friends proves to be a superb distraction from how miserable we might otherwise feel were we to endure such dreadful conditions alone. Riding while chatting —when the winds aren’t gusting so severely as to make that impossible— is a great way to cover long miles and not notice how far you’ve actually gone. We had opportunities to experience a little of both situations on this year’s ride.
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Relative Something 