Posts Tagged ‘biking’
More Miles
Not only did I get back on my bike for a second day in a row, yesterday I logged a new high for total miles in one outing. Sneaking out of the house a few minutes before 6 a.m., I drove down to Red Wing to ride the Cannon Valley Trail down to Cannon Falls and back.
The distance between the two cities is 20 miles so I knew I was biting off at least a 40-mile day, but I figured since it was all on a relatively flat paved trail, it wouldn’t be an extreme 40. Two other factors played in my favor: the return leg of the loop would be traveling with the flow of the Cannon River, so “downhill,” and the wind would be at my back.
The wildlife creatures were out in force and showed up almost everywhere I looked. There were so many bunny rabbits darting around the trail that I feared they would end up causing a crash. Who wants to run over a little bunny?
I saw a pheasant, a turkey, deer of all ages, a couple of eagles sharing carrion of some creature in tall grass with a flock of turkey vultures, snapping turtles digging holes for eggs right at the edge of the pavement, a red squirrel that crossed inches from my front wheel, and more rabbits than I have ever seen in my entire life.
When I got to Cannon Falls, I rolled up to the Veteran’s Memorial where I was able to pause and reflect on the significance of D-Day.
I found a bench in a park beside the river to eat a little breakfast I’d brought for the occasion. The Cannon River has risen well beyond its banks and was flowing with big energy.
After my short break at the halfway point, I was feeling pretty good and kicked it up a notch to celebrate the tailwind and the downslope. That lasted almost 10 miles before my body started tiring of the routine.
When your whole body gets tired of being on a bike, it becomes really hard to find a position that feels comfortable for more than a few minutes. At first, a new adjustment seems like just what I needed, but when it only lasts for a short time, the result is an endless rotation of standing up, sitting back farther on the saddle, moving hands to new hold on the bars, coasting, stretching, and looking for any distraction for my mind.
I got a kick out of the deer that was munching greenery at head height with its butt sticking out on the trail. I had a full broadside view of this big doe. I saw her turn toward me but then she just went back to eating as if I wasn’t there. I wondered if she might not have seen me or just didn’t recognize I was approaching.
She chomped a large bite of leaves and turned toward me again. This time her eyes grew wide and she froze like maybe I wouldn’t see her if she didn’t move. I had been coasting toward her at the same speed the whole time wondering how close she’d let me get, standing stiff with a garden salad of leaves sticking out of her snout.
At maybe ten yards and closing, she bolted up into the trees with her mouth still full. I hope I didn’t give her indigestion.
I made it back home by 11:00 and spent the afternoon leaving muddy tire tracks all over the place as I mowed with the riding mower. My legs were way too tired to walk behind the push-mower.
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Finding Alternatives
I’m not making plans as much as I am reacting to the situations we are dealing with in terms of maintaining our property during the season of late spring soakings. What can I tackle between storms and accomplish while almost every area is under standing water or soft as a soaked sponge?
I’m feeling rather smug about the success I achieved yesterday in addressing multiple tasks after starting the morning with a brief bike ride. Too often, I try to get some things done at home in order to justify going riding but then I just tire myself out and never get to the bike.
This time, I put biking first and promised myself to keep it short. Never happy trying to decide on a route, I decided to focus on riding for only one hour. This ended up making my choices for roads simpler.
A basic rectangle unfolded nicely for me and I turned off my tracking app as the clock reached 1.0 hours just as I returned to the shop doorway.
Since it was still before lunchtime, I strapped on the string trimmer and worked through a tank of gas cleaning up edges and some areas too wet to roll wheels through. Even if the main expanses of lawn grass start to get long and unruly, having the edges nicely cropped does an amazing job of giving the place a well-kept appearance.
The most important reason for me isn’t that others might notice, it’s because I see it every day and am much happier seeing it look its best. I am rewarded each time I pass.
After a break for a sandwich, I was sent to River Falls to pick up Cyndie’s grocery order for the week. That allowed me a chance to finally stop by the hardware store and buy more stock of shear bolts since I used up the final spare the last time we were using the wood chipper.
There was just enough time left in the afternoon to run the push mower through the labyrinth. I had to give in and roll wheels through some standing water down there, but it was important to avoid falling behind again after Cyndie put in a heroic effort with the string trimmer last week to bring it back from being close to out of control.
We almost made it through an entire period of daylight without additional rainfall after a mean-looking storm missed us just to the north while I was on the grocery run. The dark clouds around dinnertime didn’t miss, however, and wetness was topped off anew.
The winds yesterday afternoon were frightening at times. On my drive home from River Falls, a branch struck my windshield with a sharp SLAP! against the glass but didn’t cause any damage. Anything not tied down was getting blown for a tumble. I was happy to get home and find only small branches littering our driveway.
Before hitting the shower, I ran through my planking and stretching routine and am beginning to feel like I’m making good progress toward getting back to where I was before getting sick and suffering from that bulging disc.
I don’t blame me for feeling smug.
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Weather Luck
My assessment at the end of our bike ride on the hills around Wintervale is displayed visibly in this image captured by Beth Bertelson:
It rained much of Friday night but we woke up to a pause in the precipitation and the ground was only a little damp outside. However, radar evidence indicated another batch of potentially heavier rain moving in our direction at a rate that would put it over us right when we wanted to head out.
Undaunted, the group of my friends who ventured the roughly hour-long drive to our place were going through the preparations to ride without hesitation.
As the minutes closed, I sensed the trend of movement on that next mass of wet weather was going to slide just south of our location. Instead, we ended up getting a dose of ground fog that faded the beauty of the fall colors and obscured the distance view of the horizon at the high spot that usually offers the best vista.
Soon after descending the invigorating glide down from that potential view, the fog dissipated and the dryer air hinted we were going to be granted perfect conditions for our time on the road.
One highlight of having my cycling friends join me on these roads was the combination of ride buddies from two different worlds. There were people I met on the annual June rides now known as the Tour of Minnesota and two riders I grew up knowing in Eden Prairie, Minnesota.
Paul and I have known each other since grade school and shared a number of epic biking adventures over the years. That shot is taken at Vino in the Valley restaurant near the Rush River. You can see in the background we were blessed with periods of blue sky at the midpoint of our route.
After a pause on a bridge by a limestone cliff, we started the long, slow climb up the steep hill that marks the transition between the two worlds of lush valley and wide open farm fields.
We made it back to Wintervale in perfect time and celebrated our accomplishment with a delicious lunch feast. The laughter and riding afterglow was precisely what I was longing for and very reminiscent of the week-long Tour of Minnesota we have every June.
Cyndie and I added a few tours of our forest, the labyrinth, visits to the horses and interactions with Asher to top off a perfect adventure that fit surprisingly well between bouts of inclement weather.
We needed the rain and I really wanted to ride with friends. I am very lucky that I was able to have both. Overnight last night we received 1.25 inches of rain. Ahhh. Perfect timing.
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Can’t Control
If I could, I surely would have the rain refrain from raining on us during the hours when my friends and I want to go for a bike ride today. It is taking a lot of effort to hold my attitude in a healthy place against the unfavorable weather forecast that has been threatening for days to rain out this event we have been preparing to host.
While we were on a walk with Mike and Barb yesterday, Cyndie found a bright red heart-shaped leaf.
A gift from the universe to help us maintain a focus on love despite whatever rain clouds might come our way.
Last night our world was brightened mightily upon the arrival of my biking buddies Bob and Julie in advance of today’s planned ride. Healthy energy combined and magnified as we introduced Asher to them and then took a walk down to see the horses.
The soil is so desperately dry here and the growing plants and trees are so visibly parched that rain showers are needed more than my friends and I need to bike. I can’t control the amount or timing of precipitation falling today but I can control my reaction to it.
If it isn’t raining for the few hours we’d like to ride, that would be just grand.
It seems weird to say it, but if it rains a lot all day, that would be even better.
The “September fall colors ride with John” can be easily morphed into an “eat a lot of great food together, converse, and play games by the fireplace” with John and Cyndie event.
I definitely can’t always get what I want. I really, really wanted to ride with my friends and enjoy the beautiful scenery on the roads nearby.
I want the type of weather we had here during the four days prior. However, the opportunity to have a great time with good people provides priceless value regardless of the arrival of ride-busting precipitation.
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Double Adventures
There was no great plan for my day when I woke up yesterday but I was pondering the possibility of a bike ride on the roads around our lake place. On a whim, I checked the “Ride with GPS” app on my phone and noticed it showed options for paved routes and one caught my interest for being a nice change of pace from my regular riding routine.
I headed north toward Seeley and was rewarded with a fabulous adventure of a ride.
I thought about pausing at the Sawmill Saloon in Seeley for lunch but since I had forgotten my wallet, I decided to ride on toward the Double-Oh (OO) trailhead where the American Birkebeiner ski race trail crosses over the road where I could eat the mixed nuts and homemade gingersnap cookies snack I brought with me.
Little did I know that I would show up at a time on a day when I would get to meet the president of the Birchleggings Club, Paul Thompson, preparing for a presentation of a new electric snowmobile donation to the American Birkebeiner Ski Foundation. The Birchleggings Club is a non-profit organization and close partner of ABSF, whose members have skied 20 or more American Birkebeiners.
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Paul has skied 42 Birkies! I have skied zero but shared several of my crazy adventure stories as a spectator, including the time my friend Paul Keiski got me a press pass granting us special access for taking pictures. That year we sat in front of one of the finishing booths where we witnessed a wild sprint between two world-class racers from Scandinavia.
Even though I could have lingered to enjoy the Birkie people and activities for the rest of the day, I had a bike ride to finish. The roads I picked were smooth pavement through some fabulous forest that offered a very rewarding finish to the 32-mile loop ending right back at our driveway.
After I hopped off my bike, I wanted to stretch my legs a bit which brought me to the Whitlock’s place next door where I knew a project was underway. Before I had even changed out of my biking shoes, I suddenly found myself engaged in the second adventure of my day.
The Whitlocks are installing a replacement hot tub this weekend. Another set of hands was a welcome sight at a time when boards kept shifting as new ones were tapped into place.
After the first “fit” was accomplished, it all needed to come apart and three beads of caulk were applied to each board for the final assembly. Getting the last two boards to ‘pop’ into place in order to get the metal straps attached was something of an art that required a number of trial-and-error go-rounds.
The straps were secured just in time for a dinner break, leaving plenty of finishing work to be accomplished yet today. I remain on call for assistance as needed.
Yesterday was one of those when I had no idea how much adventure awaited me when I decided to head out alone on a little bike ride. It ended up being more than doubly rewarding!
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River Valley
There are some hills to contend with on the roads close to home and I frequently plot my route to limit my exposure to them when jaunting off on random bicycle excursions. It becomes a trick to avoid crossing the Rush River valley if traveling very far to our east. Early on Saturday morning, I decided to make the valley my destination. After the fabulous ride with Paul the day before, my goal was to see how I would feel sitting on the saddle for a couple hours right away again.
Before reaching the valley, a lot of the terrain is pretty flat and the roads pass through miles of plowed farm fields. I chose to drop down into the valley to ride the beautiful pavement past picturesque scenery to a specific bridge where I could pause for a snack. From there, I would backtrack my way to climb up the very same hill I had come down.
The speed on the way down is in the 40mph range. More like single digits on the way back up. The graphic of the elevation of my ride clearly represents the mirror image of my progress.
When I got to the bridge, two fly fishermen were preparing their equipment to cast bait that would match whatever was currently hatching. One fig bar later, it had become six guys seeking a sweet pool where they could ply their skill out of reach from one another. My snack time was abbreviated by my inability to escape clouds of annoyingly persistent gnats.
Every time I have been down to this spot I have seen deer somewhere along the road next to the river. Every time. I figured the early hour would guarantee the streak would continue but I began to worry as I started to get close to this bridge and hadn’t seen any. Oh, ye of little faith. The record remains intact. The first sighting was on the far side of a field and not right in the river like so often before, but it counts just the same.
Then I came upon another deer, and another, and when I pulled over to pee, there was one standing just a few feet away I hadn’t noticed until getting off my bike. He seemed a little flummoxed by my stopping but with little commotion, made his way out of sight in a blink.
Just before I reached the bottom of the hill on my way out of the valley, a big, fat woodchuck that I surprised reversed his direction and ambled off away from the road.
Although my butt was definitely aware I had been riding just the day before, I felt comfortable enough to decide I am ready for a week of riding next week. No testing will be required to find out if sleeping on the ground will cause any discomfort. My latest sleeping pad works wonderfully, even if my habit of sleeping on my side presents a challenge.
The physical challenges are more than offset by the gush of endorphins I get from hanging out for a week with really great like-minded folks who love to laugh while pedaling bikes all day and camping in tents overnight.
Counting down the days to the Tour of Minnesota 2023!
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Exploring Gravel
Morning chores were done, breakfast was eaten and the paper read. It was time to commit to whatever work deserved to be accomplished for the day. Thinking that I needed to use the power trimmer, I asked Cyndie if it mattered to her what I started on.
She said, “Why don’t you go for a bike ride before the air quality gets any worse?” Man, I love her.
I got ready as quickly as I could and stopped to look at a map on my laptop for a new route to explore. 410th Street going north out of El Paso looked like a good option. (Did you know there was an “El Paso” in Wisconsin? I didn’t until we moved here.) A marker on the map for Driftless Farm Sanctuary caught my eye. I could check it out.
Being well familiar with the roads to El Paso, my exploration didn’t really begin until I reached 410th. Oops. It was gravel.
That wasn’t in my plan, but at the moment, I was feeling brave enough to ride the rough stuff. I turned onto the gravel and employed a little battery assist. What a smart idea it was to get an e-bike. The gravel continued for more miles than I expected, and every road that intersected 410th was also gravel. I learned that there are a lot more gravel roads nearby than I was aware of.
I came upon a very busy harvesting operation with two huge machines cutting and six trucks arranged for filling of what appeared to me would be processed to become silage. They probably didn’t expect to see a bicyclist passing by on that road.
I wasn’t aware there was growth already available for harvesting. This is the kind of discovery that comes from exploration.
There was another noteworthy find further on up the gravel roads. I came upon one of those places where you can’t roller skate.
When I left the gravel and rolled onto pavement again the pedaling became noticeably easier but the direction I was going took me to the big hills of 690th Avenue. I touched the control to increase my battery assist by two levels and sailed home with ease.
After lunch, I decided to test the idea of using the new zero-turn mower to cut along the fence lines from inside the hay field and back pasture to simplify trimming beneath the wires. I usually mow in there with the big tractor pulling the brush cutter but if the small mower can do the job, it would be easier.
Well, the little battery-powered beast was more than up to the challenge. That cutting, which knocked down grass much taller than I should have been trying to mow with the Greenworks CRZ426, will make the final cleanup with a power trimmer a breeze. I’ll be done in a fraction of the time it would have otherwise taken.
What a smart idea it was to buy that e-mower.
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Favorite Antidepressant
First of all, the weather yesterday was idyllic. That alone goes a long way to soothe a person’s angst. Beyond that, my favorite antidepressant is getting outdoors for exercise with a group of people who I know and love. I have known most of the people who showed up to ride for almost thirty years from the annual June bike trip called the Tour of Minnesota.
Our route along the Dakota Rail Regional Trail took us right past the home of my good friends, Mike and Barb Wilkus, so I brought a bunch of the riders off the trail to say hi to Mike.
He opened his garage to show us the camping trailer he was packing for a little getaway they have planned.
My biking group did this same warm-up ride last year but I failed to realize we were going right past the Wilkus’ place. Upon figuring it out, Rich Gordon and I stopped to surprise them. This year, I warned Mike that I’d be coming by, not mentioning the part about bringing 8 other cyclists with me.
The other thing we did yesterday on the ride was revisit a stop at the Big Stone Sculpture Garden in Minnetrista. A number of us reenacted last year’s pose in front of the word Love carved into stone.
We pedaled and visited for 30 miles which served to rekindle my deep appreciation for these precious friends.
Thank goodness Rich is adept at capturing pictures of us as we ride. Thanks for all the photos, Rich!
The joy of biking with these folks is the primary reason I have returned to the annual June biking and camping event year after year. Yesterday served as an excellent primer to inspire my preparations for the trip that will start in Albany, MN this year. Riding the country roads around my home all by myself isn’t as rewarding but getting in some preliminary hours on the saddle always goes a long way toward minimizing discomfort for a week of riding in the middle of June.
NOT having sore butt bones when you will be riding day after day is also an antidepressant, if you know what I mean.
I would be even happier if the week in June isn’t rainy or stormy, but I won’t frame that as a requirement. I’ll throw that inspiration out there as a potential bonus.
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Underground Conversations
After listening to a Radiolab podcast Cyndie turned on while we were eating breakfast (From Tree to Shining Tree) about the complex web of fungi and tree roots underground, I decided to head out for a bike ride yesterday. I chose a route that retraced the last leg of the great 60-mile ride from Minneapolis to Beldenville that my friend, Paul Keiski and I planned in recognition of our 60th birthdays.
That last section always haunts me for the wrong turn I made that moved our 60-mile ride closer to a 70-mile one. I have a history of confusing my orientation and choosing turns that are 180° in the wrong direction. The right turn I made on that fateful day almost four years ago makes absolutely no sense. It was really hot and I was very fatigued but that turn should have been entirely obvious.
Every time I have ridden those roads since that day, I take great pleasure in making the correct turn without a moment of hesitation. Yesterday, I rode 32 miles of country roads past farms with freshly mowed grass, an occasional horse, and a lot of lounging cows. I spotted multiple patches of flowering trillium and a lot of trees with newly sprouted leaves.
There is so much happening in the plant world right now, I began to wonder about how many underground conversations must be occurring throughout the incredible network of roots and fungi in the dirt. How much energy must be traveling up all the countless number of tree branches during this phase when buds open and leaves emerge?
Our forests are starting to look like forests again.
Seeing all the leaves pop out tells me the network of underground communication must be functioning well in our woods. I’m particularly thrilled that the maple tree we transplanted to the center of the labyrinth (after our first three attempts failed) appears to have made the necessary underground connections to thrive.
I can’t imagine what those conversations must have been like. We plopped that tree into the ground in a location that isolated it from any other existing trees. At least, that’s the way it looked from above ground. Down in the dirt, I’m guessing there were more tentacles of growing roots and fungi than one might expect. Thank goodness for that if that’s what it took for this one to survive the trauma of being moved.
Thinking about this makes me want to take as much care to nurture our forest floor as I direct toward the trees above.
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Aha Moment
After resting my aching legs for a day –of which the left leg was proving to be the more uncomfortable one– I tried a brief, easy solo ride on the road bike yesterday afternoon. All the weekend guests had departed but I hung around for the rest of the day, mostly because of the simple fact that I could. I will be driving home this morning.
Yesterday, I experienced an “aha moment” during the first mile of spinning the cranks of the road bike. My left side still felt “funny.” Weak is one way I can describe it. I began to perceive a sensation that suddenly occurred to me to NOT be specifically coming from my left quadricep. I had a sense that what I was feeling in the leg muscle was more of a referred pain.
All at once, it hit me that I might actually be noticing the first signs of a hip problem.
Where do I pick up my membership card for that club of unpleasantness?
I rode a mere 11 miles and used battery-powered assistance the whole way. My goal was to allow my legs to do a little spinning without working them very hard against resistance. Mission accomplished.
Floating in the lake after I got back, the discomfort throughout my body seemed to be growing more and more aligned with what my mind was now telling me. Now I am in the place of wondering whether my mind is responding to the vague pains of my body or if it’s the other way around. Is my body starting to react to thoughts that my hip might be growing arthritic?
That’s pretty easy to test. I’ll start imagining my hip is perfectly healthy and see if the vague pains and noticeable weakness go away.
Anecdotally –if you believe this– I did recently decide I should be putting a pillow between my knees at night in bed when I’m sleeping. I can’t explain why I renewed this practice, but maybe it’s related to the possibility of a hip issue and my intuitive self detecting it would be a prudent thing to do.
I’m no Orthopedist, but it’s all making sense to me at this moment.
Or, maybe it’s not the joint, itself. The Mayo Clinic offers this:
Problems within the hip joint itself tend to result in pain on the inside of your hip or your groin. Hip pain on the outside of your hip, upper thigh or outer buttock is usually caused by problems with muscles, ligaments, tendons and other soft tissues that surround your hip joint.
https://www.mayoclinic.org/symptoms/hip-pain/basics/definition/sym-20050684
The location of my pain is more on the outside of the hip and, as I originally suspected, my upper thigh.
I’m going to prescribe some extra rest and see what that does for me. See if it gives me any additional “ahas.”
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Relative Something 