What you see depends on where you look. Frieda and I repeatedly ride to the same few places, for the most part. But I manage to see new things each time. Yesterday, we went to a city park where I’ve taken several photos in the past. But none look exactly like the ones I got yesterday. All of the photos below were shot from the same spot, but looking in different directions.
For one, I turned away from the creek and the natural landscape, pointing my camera toward the city instead. A little shot of Americana.
Facing the other way, you might not know there was an urban area so close.
I rode in the evening and stayed until I looked up and saw the lamp signaling me it was time to get home while I could still see and be seen.
The cicadas sang me a goodbye song.
The waters have finally receded around here, with trails opened up once again. I’m proud of myself for getting up early, after only three alarms, and setting out with *Frieda before it got too hot to ride.
We took the Wetlands trail today, and saw lots of pond scum — er, filamentous green algae. It’s beautiful in its own way. Here’s an informational page about it from the Missouri Department of Conservation. Turns out it floats because of bubbles it produces. And it’s a healthy part of the ecosystem, as long as it doesn’t take over everything.
*Frieda is my bicycle.
Frieda and I did an actual errand, an important one. I was out of coffee beans at home, so we went to the store. No fossil fuels were burned in the completion of this errand.
I hope to do more of this kind of riding.
Last post, the creek was up. Here’s what was up today:
My gear settings. I’m getting in shape, baby! When I first got my bicycle, I was doing most of my trail riding in 3rd or 4th gear on the middle chain ring. (My bike has 24 gears.) I still haven’t gotten to the big chain ring in front, but I’m comfortable doing a lot of my riding in 5th and 6th gear on the middle one now. And I even pushed it up to 7th for a while today. Coming off the trail, there’s a fairly steep switch-back uphill. I’ve been putting Frieda into low-low granny-low gear at the very bottom in order not to get off and push. But today I made it halfway up before I had to shift all the way down.
Butterflies. I saw lots of butterflies while riding.
A fancy new carrying basket up on Frieda’s handlebars.
Isn’t she pretty?
And hot air balloons!
The sky kept threatening rain all day, so Frieda and I stayed home. But it finally cleared enough that we felt safe going out after dinner this evening. My husband and son went along, too, though they rode off and left me a couple of times. (It’s okay. We all have phones.)
We’ve had a lot of storms lately, resulting in many closed roads around the area. I encountered a couple of muddy patches on the trail, but it was mostly okay. A few areas of standing water right off to the side.
I wanted to take more water pictures, but the one time I stopped, I got swarmed by mosquitos. Plus dusk was coming on. On one stretch, the only occupants of the trail were me, Frieda, the mosquitos and a deer. A doe ran right in front of me, but I didn’t get photos.
Here’s the only photo I snapped to document the water level. I’m pretty sure the creek is not supposed be nearly up to those apartment balconies:
I took a short ride today, following the trail to a city park by a creek.Gusty wind blowing pollen around. Watery eyes as a result.
I found a kiosk with lots of posters. Someone has a sense of humor, but also wants us to follow the rules.
Maybe I can remember one or two of those.
Frieda and I prefer this method, though:
I’m using some accumulated PTO from work this week. That means more bike rides!
In a previous life, a quarter of a century ago, before having kids, I used to ride a lot. I rode for transportation. And I took long bike rides with my husband. I liked cycling back then. But I’m experiencing a new level of joy with it now. Maybe because I’ve experienced a couple of decades of not being able to just go, of always planning even the smallest moves in my day around other people and their needs.
Summer has dropped itself on us here suddenly, as it does in Missouri. So I went out early (ish) this morning before it got too hot. I saw a fair number of bikers, runners and walkers on the trail, at least while I was still in city limits. I went out into the country a couple off miles before turning around.
On into the wild.
I’ll tell you this about myself on a bicycle — I’m not the fastest rider out there. I get passed by a lot of other riders. And I don’t care! That’s part of the joy of cycling alone. I don’t have to worry about keeping up with anyone. I set my own pace, stopping when I want and resuming when I want. I’m not competing with anyone.
I recently read a book by Jill Grunenwald, called “Running With a Police Escort: Tales from the Back of the Pack.” It’s a great encouragement for those of us who are winning no races, but are still doing the thing.
Anyway, while guys in jerseys were passing me this morning, I met a fellow traveler with whom I could sympathize.