Posts Tagged ‘biking’
Not Sticks
I was warned long ago that snakes are frequently reported on the Katy Trail. Not being a fan of snakes, it wasn’t the best message I’ve ever received, but figured the talk might be exaggerated a bit.
Riding in a group, the common practice is to point out hazards in the road/trail to alert riders behind you.
There were a lot of sticks littering the trail all week, but the only snake we had come upon was a dead one …until yesterday.
I was on the left side, just ahead of Curt, rolling along at 14 miles per hour. At that speed, there’s really only a fraction of a second to make decisions when something suddenly comes into view.
The stick was about 5 feet long and lying perfectly across the trail. By the time I sensed it might not be a stick, there was no choice but to hold my line and try to avoid panicking.
As my wheel met little resistance, I screeched “SNAKE!”
Curt announced that it was alive because it instantly picked up its head and turned toward me. Luckily, I was moving fast enough to be already gone. My adrenaline boosted the bike speed to escape velocity.
Follow-up research points to it being a black rat snake.
A short time later, another snake was more to one side and I had changed my thinking to see any stick as a threat. I dodged it with a quick zig-zag maneuver.
Why did I have to be the one to have the closest encounter? The Universe is keeping me on my toes, I guess.
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Cicada Cacophony
Between the leaves being crushed by our tires, and the racket made by throngs of cicadas, there is a lot of noise on this ride.
My phone started slipping from my hand for this video but I caught it just in time to include Bob coming past me on the left.
To Sedalia
Yes, it was hot. We reached Sedalia before noon, as planned, despite a brief delay to deal with a puncture in my tubeless rear tire. The sealant prevented disaster and got me to our finish, but we put in a plug and added sealant for added protection after we were done riding for the day.
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Leaving Early
I am departing at dawn this morning to dash home early from the “Golf Weekend” in order to then drive more than an hour west for Cyndie’s 50th high school reunion. They are starting with a boat cruise on Lake Minnetonka, then coming back to Eden Prairie for an “after party.”
The plan seems a little dizzying to me after my last two whirlwind days of activity and conversation with the regular crew of the annual weekend that Cyndie’s brothers host at the lake place.
Yesterday started a little rainy, but that didn’t stop the golfers.
I waited until late afternoon to head out on the bike with two other riders. We got dripped on a little bit, but returned to the house before it rained hard enough to get things wet. Nobody crashed, so that was a win.
Dinner was grilled meats, corn on the cob, and a few sides. Since they realized I would be leaving and would miss the big fish dinner tonight, they thawed a little fresh-caught Alaskan Salmon for me that Ben’s son, Beck, brought from his recent fishing trip.
More delicious food, keeping up a trend of good eats I’ve been feasting on lately. I’m not confident that I’ve done enough pedaling to justify my higher-than-normal calorie consumption of late.
I made a few more adjustments to my gear in a search to quiet my noisy bike. Putting the battery back on appears to have ended the annoying click I was experiencing in the vicinity of the bottom bracket, but that just made what seem like new squeaks extra irritating. I rode yesterday without my seat bag of road repair gear to see if that was adding to the squeakiness. It may have been better, but it wasn’t silent yet. My right shoe was doing some squeaking, so I’ve got a little tweaking to do there.
I think the problems might be a moving target that I’ll just have to learn to live with.
We ended the evening with a card game that involved dealing only one card to each individual. You just have to beat one other person, with the lowest card being the loser. Each guy started with three chips. The first person to lose three times and run out of chips gets to return to the game with one chip when play drops down to just three people left.
Last night, the person who earned that dubious honor came back to win the whole thing. It was highly entertaining.
The camaraderie is something I will miss, but I’m heading to a big night of visiting at Cyndie’s 50th reunion this afternoon and evening that I expect will fill the void nicely.
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Directionally Challenged
For all of the effort I have put into striving for optimal health, mind-body-spirit, there remains one frailty that I have yet to address. I am prone to getting turned around so that I don’t know which way to go when faced with a decision about direction. This was demonstrated anew yesterday while out on a bike ride that I intended to be a simple loop.
I started at the red dot in the image above and rode with the wind due east on Twin Lake Road. That took me to County Road A, where I turned right and rode south to Chief River Road. After a right turn there, I pedaled west until I reached Tiger Cat Road. Another right turn there and I looped around to McClaine Road. That should have led to a right turn again to bring me back to Twin Lake Road, but I confidently made a left turn and rode south in the opposite direction from what I thought I was doing.
A couple of things clued me in to the situation playing out. It was taking longer than I thought it should to get back to Twin Lake Rd, and then the road made those two right-angle turns that I thought were wrong. When I came to the intersection with the south end of Tiger Cat Road, I knew I’d made a mistake, but I still couldn’t shake the perception that I was looking north.
I tried using my shadow to clarify, but the sun was too high, and the shadow was not helping to confirm my suspicion. I pulled out my phone to look at the map to reorient my brain. From the spot where I had stopped, I could have continued south to County Road B, but I really didn’t want to ride that more heavily trafficked road. Instead, I turned around and backtracked to get back to where I intended to be and then finished my ride, thoroughly resigned to having freshly confirmed my tendency for my sense of direction getting flipped.
It bothers me that I didn’t hesitate for a second when I made that wrong turn to the south. It felt completely correct to me.
Right up until it didn’t.
A guy could get a reputation for repeatedly doing things like that, and deservedly so.
The moral of this story? If you are ever on a bike ride with me (or a car trip, or walking indoors somewhere and coming back out again), don’t let me lead unless you enjoy putting on extra miles.
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Visiting History
I went for a little bike ride yesterday that took me into the stomping grounds of three of my ancestors’ families from 1860 to 1880 in Pierce County, Wisconsin.
Destination Esdaile brought me to some road construction.
I sure am loving my new, more aggressive tires.
The portion of the road under construction that I needed to travel was not very long. You can see my right turn ahead of the trees in the distance. That rough surface was still probably an improvement on the terrain my ancestors were traveling on in the 1800s.
Much of my ride was along Isabelle Creek that powered the mill my great-great-great-grandfather, Joseph Sleeper, ran. It’s wild thinking about the decisions made before any infrastructure existed to utilize this creek for powering a mill.
It felt like I had ridden back in time to pedal the gravel road that follows the winding creek valley. I am repeatedly amazed at the unlikelihood of our choosing to move to this county without having a clue about my family’s temporary connections to the land. I suppose it is the transient nature of their subsequent generations that explains the detachment.
Searching through old newspapers from the time period reveals details of my great-grandparents’ accomplishments in school. They were just kids romping around the woods and ravines along the creek. It’s wild to think about.
It made for a thought-provoking ride while pedaling up and down the rolling hills between Esdaile and our current home.
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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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Great Outdoors
It’s a beautiful day. I am going to go for a bike ride with friends.
It won’t be forest bathing, but it can be just as beneficial. I am going to breathe in the great outdoors while rolling along in conversation with precious people.
If you are in Stillwater, MN, wave at us as we pedal past on the Gateway State Trail. I’ll be the one with a huge grin on my face.
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Relentless Miles
During our return ride back to Hill City, we climbed for about 2 hours, mile after mile without any coasting. That means pushing pedals the whole time to in order to make progress.
Upon reaching the high point, the well-tended trail slants down and our bikes started rolling along without any help from us.
That seems like a chance to rest, but it’s not. In no time, we are flying along at 23 mph and hanging on tight to keep the bike on the trail and our bodies on the bikes.
Even though it only takes a fraction of the time, the fact that you are flexed in mostly one position throughout makes it feel almost as relentless as the climb did.
Somewhere at the bottom of one of those downslopes, we finally had our first close encounter with cows on the trail.
I received quite an education about the difference between cow and horse manure during this adventure.
I’m biased, but I definitely prefer what horses produce.
Today, Gary and I face relentless miles in the car as we cross most of South Dakota to get back to our homes.
That’s a small price to pay for the blast of a time we had. It was an absolutely fabulous adventure.
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Giggle Inducing
Several times during yesterday’s ride to Deadwood from Hill City on the Mickelson Trail, Rich and I found ourselves giggling over how much beautiful fun we were having.
Gary decided to take an extra day off to regain full strength, and drove his car to meet us in Deadwood.
We are impressed with the quality of this trail and the attention to detail in their trail stops. They are nicely spread out and offer shelter, seating, hand-pumped well water, bike tools stations, and pretty respectable toilet facilities.
There is a lot of historical information provided on signage at each stop, as well as along pertinent locations along the entire 109 miles of the trail.
The leg we rode yesterday has four tunnels that added nicely to our adventures.
The Mickelson Trail won’t meet every cyclist’s standards for level of challenge, but I found it to be an ideal combination of gorgeous different landscapes with respectable mile options that are being well maintained.
The cost of the trail pass is easily worth the giggle-worthy adventures available to a wide range of people with bicycle skills.
I’m excited to be able to ride back to Hill City on this same route today.
Even though we’re still not counting, the distance of this leg is 51 miles.
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Relative Something 