I’m trying to get out on my bicycle at least a little every weekend, even when I don’t have a great deal of time. Today’s ride wasn’t all that long, but I got to see some barn swallow babies at a shelter house.
Hungry, hungry hatchlings:
No rest for new parents!
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There are a couple of quick and easy routes from my house to the trail where I often ride my bike. Getting back home, however, requires an arduous climb coming back off the trail, either way I go. One is a shorter distance, but a steeper slope. That’s the one I took coming home today.
It’s only a block, but more vertical than I would choose. I have never yet had to get off and push the bike, but I do shift down into the very lowest gear. The saving grace to this stretch is that there’s usually little traffic, making it easy to ride in a switchback pattern. Today, however, people were getting in my way with their cars. I was forced to grind it out straight up the hill.
75% of the way, I questioned whether I would actually make it to the top, but I focused on each pedal stroke. One more and then one more and then one more. I made it! Not only that, but when I looked at my gear shifts, I discovered they weren’t on the very lowest setting. I had put them into the second lowest setting.
Whoa! I’m stronger than I thought!
I’m going to hold onto this thought as a truth. I’m stronger than I realize, and I’m accomplishing more than I give myself credit for. Even when stuff is hard, I can hang on.
You know what else is hanging on? These trees.
Their roots are all exposed on one side where the ground is eroded and slants down to the trail. But they still seem firmly anchored, holding on strongly on the other side. Hang in there, trees! You’re doing great!
I found them along the Hinkson Creek Trail, a different ride than Freida and I usually take. We had a nice, peaceful time of it, encountering few other humans today.
Stopping to rest in and take in the ambiance of nature.
Hang in there everyone. You’re strong than you think and accomplishing more than you give yourself credit for.
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This week is feeling particularly alternative universe to me, of the dystopian variety in many ways. How could we have time looped back four years and be reliving the nightmare?
On top of that, I received a text alert this morning as I was leaving my house for work telling me not to show up because there was a fire at the building. WHAT? Fortunately, it was small and quickly extinguished. Unfortunately, it was in one of the air handlers of our HVAC system, so that distributed the smoke pretty well throughout the structure, requiring some mitigation.
Bright side – it was a gorgeous fall day with temperatures in the upper 50s. My favorite weather. Might as well take advantage of the surprise day off to get Freida out of the shed and hit the trail, away from news and worries and automotive traffic…
Okay, trucks on the trail today. I understand it’s for good reason, just unusual.
Still had a pretty good ride and enjoyed the views.
Things seemed comfortingly normal and natural until I checked for the temperature on my phone screen and saw some news headlines:
Uh, yeah, we’ve slipped into an alternate universe.
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We are in a two-day lull between brutal heat waves, so I seized the day and took a little bike ride this morning. I made a brief stop near a creek to drink some water (from my water bottle, not the creek) and heard an unmistakable sound, the first one in this video.
I’m not well acquainted with many birdcalls, but I do recognize a chickadee when I hear one. Has a more adorable looking bird ever existed? When I was pregnant with my second child, I started calling my baby Chickadee as a placeholder name until he was born. I don’t remember the reason I latched onto this particular nickname, but my fondness for the little critters remains.
I looked up when I heard the call. Aha!
I choose to believe it was calling out “Happy Juneteenth” in its own way.
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Despite seasonal allergies, a slightly sore back, and the need to report to work this afternoon, I got out on my bike for a short ride this morning. I ended up at a wetlands area I frequent because there’s a nice shelter house, yet it’s at a spur off the main trail, so few people seem to stop there.
Thanks to a recent Facebook post from a friend, I realized this morning that there’s an abundance of poison hemlock growing there, and not harmless Queen Anne’s lace as I had always thought. I used the Seek app to verify the species. Since I don’t aspire to die like Socrates, I’m glad I never touched any back when I was misidentifying it!
One clear way to tell the difference between the two plants is the stem. Poison hemlock has smooth stems with purple spots. Queen Anne’s lace has hairy stems with no purple. I found a helpful article that provides more information.
Now you know. If you see this plant, make like anyone who is not Socrates and avoid it.
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Unseasonably warm is becoming more the norm. It was 72 degrees F here today on Christmas Eve. Nothing for it but to hop on a bicycle. My husband, son-in-residence and I rode together far enough out of town that we had to dodge cow patties on the trail.
It was one of my longer journeys with Freida at nearly 13 miles round trip. After being sidelined for medical reasons earlier in the year, I’m doing everything I can to stay healthy in the hopes she and will be able to keep increasing our range.
Happy holidays!
“
It took a while, but I got back in the saddle this morning for the first time since my surgery in late August. Just a short jaunt with Freida to get my legs used to it again. I’ve been walking a lot, but not pedaling. Despite the need to rebuild my leg stamina, Freida and I enjoyed the perfect high fifties temperatures as we went to one of my favorite shelter houses overlooking a wetlands area.
If problem number one was my legs being out of shape, here was problem number two. We had a massive rainfall the night before last. Most of the trail was fine, but this part passing through a tunnel required me to get off and walk Freida through. No biggie. Our city Parks and Rec department usually clears up things like this pretty quickly and I’m sure it will be back in shape within a couple of days.
When I took those photos, I thought I was documenting the biggest problem I would encounter. But here’s an environmental one, though I didn’t realize it as I was snapping the picture.
After I got home, I was able to identify the plant in the foreground as common teasel, discovering it’s an invasive species in Missouri. Much bigger problem than rocks on the trail.
There was still a lot to enjoy in the view and I’m glad I made the effort. Look at that sky!
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It’s thanks to this guy that I got out on my bicycle at all this morning.
When I crawled back into bed after getting up to use the bathroom, my husband reminded me of my stated intentions from last night. “It’s not too late to take a ride before the day gets hot.”
He even accompanied me to the lake that is my favorite cycling destination, about four miles from our house. And he humored me by letting me set the pace rather than taking off and leaving me in the dust. This is a person who has ridden his bike virtually every day for decades.
It might be awhile before my next ride. I have a minor medical procedure schedule later this week and will probably not be saddle-ready for at least a couple of weeks after that. But the lure of the bicycle will give me something to look forward to as motivation to follow all recovery instructions and take care of myself.
See you all on the other side.
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I put on blinders to everything that needs to be done at home and went out for a bike ride with Frieda this morning before the temperature reminded me too harshly that it’s still summer. Like most everyone right now, I find it a constant effort to manage my stress levels. I would love to go camping and spend a few days unwinding, but that’s not possible at the moment. So I take what micro-breaks I can get — sitting on the deck for a few minutes in the evening with a mocktail (I don’t drink much alcohol) and some music, or finding a less-traveled spur of the MKT Trail where I can be “away from it all” for a couple of minutes, right in the city.
The illusion of being out of the city:
On the main trail, an interesting rock with an interesting puddle in an indentation.
In an effort to learn more about the rock, I took an accidental selfie. In case you can’t read the print, the rock is several million year old limestone. I wonder how many other creatures have stopped to look at it throughout the millennia.
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This tree was here long before George Washington was born.
Poor Frieda was left at home when I went out to ride today. My husband makes a weekly bicycle pilgrimage to what locals call the Big Tree. Today, I invited myself along. He dusted off our 30-year-old Burley tandem, Tandy, and we took it. It’s the only way I can keep up with him.
We’ve nearly sold good old Tandy a time or two, and she’s spent long periods of time in storage. I’m glad we still have her, though.
Here’s the Big Tree, a 400-year-old (more or less) bur oak at McBaine, Missouri.
Here’s Tandy:
Spouse included for scale in this one.
Some close-up photos of tree parts:
Think about it. This tree was here long before George Washington was born. I imagine it’s seen some things.
Nomadic Noesis 