Return of the summer bike trip series

After an April we'd all like to forget weather-wise, I figure my readership could use a little pick-me-up that involves warmer temperatures on the horizon.
Well, here it goes: Back by popular demand is the summer bike trip series.
Over the next few months, I'll be doing occasional entries about destinations in the Mankato area that can be reached on two wheels and a set of pedals (and hopefully with minimal flat tires). Unlike typical training rides, these trips won't be about the speed that one can complete them in. Rather, they will about the appeal of their destinations and the adventure it takes to get there.
It seems like this got a lot of good responses from people last summer. Perhaps others share my cycling-crazed belief that life is simply more exciting on a bicycle.
Similar to last year, I will post a route map of each trip and write about the ease/challenge of the ride, the safety of the ride and the appeal of the destination. Also similar to last year, I will post any trips submitted to me by other riders. Just e-mail your suggestions, photos and maps to avoigt@mankatofreepress.com.
Here are a few guidelines if you're going to suggest a trip:

• The destination should be a place that has some appeal to it. Maybe it's a restaurant with good food. Or a state park with some cool hiking trails and viewpoints. Or perhaps it's a historical landmark with an intriguing story behind it. Whatever the case, it should be a place you want to stop and hang out at for awhile.
• Extending the previous guideline further, it should be a place that can be enjoyed by people beyond yourself. Your grandparents' house may be an enjoyable visit for you, but it means little to me (unless of course they're making cookies, then it's somewhat enjoyable).
• It has to be a destination that a person can bike to and make it back to Mankato in a day. The bike trips are meant to be more of a "fun stuff to do on your day off"-type activity. I enjoy visiting the North Shore area of Minnesota as much as the anyone, but unless you're Lance Armstrong, you're not biking there and back in a day.
• On the flip side, it also has to be a destination with some degree of difficulty to reach. Reasonable guideline: If it takes you less than 15 minutes to walk there, it's not a challenge.
• The route should be relatively safe for cyclists. Roads are pretty much unavoidable if you're going to bike to another town. However, there's a big differencTe between biking on a low-traffic country road with wide shoulders than bracing for the constant flow of cars on Highway 169.

Here's a recap of the bike trips I did last summer:

• Rapidam Dam Park
• Minneopa State Park (recent addition: The Minneopa Trail was not complete when this post was written. That would now be the easiest and safest route to the park)
• New Ulm (I used the entire city as one destination. In hindsight, one location would have been a better idea. If someone wants to suggest an individual destination in New Ulm, I would be OK with it)
• Trail Blazer Bar & Grill (recent addition: The ripped-up part of the Sakatah Trail that I mentioned in this point is now paved)
• Amboy Cottage Cafe
• Green Giant Statue Park
• Franke's (Kolacky) Bakery
• Seattle Space Needle (just kidding)

Fire and Ice

Zebra Swallowtail (Eurytides marcellus).

Captured during his unannounced guest appearance at the Fire and Ice show¹.
Alabama Power's indiscriminate and ugly tree-removal policies have saddened me every time I drive this road.²

But when the sun warmed that questionably broad path, I was surprised at what popped up.

Wild hyacinths (Camassia scilloides). They dot the woods beyond the power lines, but this much sun exposure (and no late killing frost this year) caused a population explosion.
I doubt they'll last here long -- brush will dominate within a year or two, choking out anything this small.
But obviously, they can lie dormant, waiting for the day when they feel the sun again.
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¹Fire Pinks and Wild Hyacinths
²They don't practice quite so much dogwood-twisting tree torture in ritzy lawyer-heavy Birmingham suburbs, but out here in rural areas, I'm sure they figure no one of importance will mind.
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Friday Ark.

The Labyrinth of Lawn

I used this phrase a few days ago in a comment, and can’t stop thinking about it. The comment was at the Dirt Divas blog, and the subject was gardening as a solace in time of trouble. The Dirt Divas have a name similar to the group I belong to, Austin's Divas of the Dirt, but these divas live in Alaska.

So my thoughts concern mowing, but they're not about the current Lawn versus No Lawn discussions. It’s an interesting topic, but it’s not mine. I’ve been thinking about what happens to your mind when you’re engaged in something like mowing.
When I was a teenager, I occasionally pushed a mower for my parents, but my husband cut the grass once we bought a house, and my sons took over as time went on.

In the late nineteen-eighties, the garden grew more important, and we bought a mower that I could handle. I took over the lawn like a prairie version of May Dreams' blog photo, in denim skirts and a wide-brimmed hat.
One reason to mow: When you're mowing, your family is less likely to interrupt you with the usual demands. The dads mow in suburbia, so when a mom does it, it must be an important job. The sound isn't pleasant, but it becomes a white noise, blocking out the background. I couldn’t hear the airplanes on their way into O’Hare; I couldn’t hear the phone; I couldn’t hear car motors; I couldn’t hear any squabbling. I could think. Some of my best garden plans were developed as I went back and forth and around, mowing my yard, looking at everything from changing angles, noticing and evaluating and concentrating.
Another reason to mow: I knew what was out there and how close to get. I didn’t accidentally mow down struggling young lilies and hostas as weeds, because I was the one who planted them. I also saw things that were not ‘right’ as I passed - catching a shrub before it smothered another, or stopping a perennial before it completed a takeover move.
A possible reason to mow: A non-self-propelled mower means some load-bearing exercise. I use a mulching mower and overlap the lines, and don’t put grass in yard bags.
A sad reason to mow: In the months after my dad died, I could act normal most of the time, but once I started cutting the lawn, the tears wouldn't stop. Was it because mowing was something my father did, for as long as I could remember? Even in his last years, Dad would use his cane to steady himself as he climbed aboard the riding mower.

Or was it the action of mowing, the walking and the formation of patterns in the grass that released bottled-up feelings? In retrospect, now that I see labyrinths designed for walking appear everywhere, at retreat houses, on church grounds and in meditative gardens, this idea seems pretty likely.

Am I alone in feeling like this? Do you mow and think, or mow and plan, or mow and weep, or do you let someone else walk the Labyrinth of your Lawn?

Coming attractions

Many have risen...

... but few have budded.
(Virginia Bluebells, Mertensia virginica.)

Shy ones have been spotted, but their lips are sealed.
(Trailing Trillium, Trillium decumbens.)

Mouthy little things, they'll soon be chewing the scenery everywhere you look.
(Toothwort, Cardamine sp.)

Tired of worn winter clothing, some are already sprouting new duds.
(Stoneseed, Lithospermum tuberosa.)

Still sleeping, but last year's faded poster marks the spot of exciting future installments.
(Foamflower, Tiarella cordifolia.)

Are You a Nut? It's OK

Gone Triking Again

We should have been packing for our upcoming trip, but that’s not what we were doing this morning.  After consecutive days of ‘this is how it must be inside a furnace’ temps that felt like 105F (41C) thanks to the humidex, we could not resist going out for another trike ride.  We needed to pick up my CamelBak hydration pack from the Phaeton, so we headed to Bull Run Regional Park to kill two birds with one stone :-)

After parking near the entrance, unfolding our bikes, and gearing up, we had a bit of fun on the deserted side road before heading off for a longer ride on the main road.

A 43-second video of us goofing around.

A nice breeze and plenty of shade made for perfect trike riding conditions.  The flapping of our colorful ‘we’re here; don’t run us over’ flags was the only sound to break the morning’s silence until we came upon two hawks calling to each other.  We watched them for a while from our trike seats, our quiet approach allowing us to get surprisingly close to the base of the tree where one was perched.  No photos; I’m afraid — too many branches in the way.

Except for the occasional car heading out from the campground towards town, traffic was nil.  The campers were still fast asleep, and we were the only ones out and about to enjoy the sun streaming through the trees, burning off the light fog.

There’s a small pond not far from the campground store.  At first, we planned to stop there to eat our breakfast bars, but there were too many gnat-like bugs.  Pedaling back towards whence we came, we found another spot instead.  Bugs there, too.  So, we just munched away at our breakfast while sitting in our trikes and quickly high-tailed it out of there.

All in all, I did somewhere around 4-5 miles (6.5-8 km) on this run.  Mui wanted to do a high-speed pedal on our second time around the park, so he got in more mileage today than I did.  By 9:30a, with the temps starting to reach into the 80F (27C) range, we were ready to call it quits.  Not only was there work to do at home, but it also didn’t make sense to over-tire our muscles and pay the piper later!  (So far, no aches or pains — that’s a good thing!)

A bit of biking humor to end this post :-)))

Alert, Alert!  the aliens abducted a triker at bull run.  Only her shoes were left behind :-)

(For those who are not bikers: these shoes snap onto the pedals so that we can pedal at speed without worrying about our feet slipping off.  They also make for a smoother, more comfortable pedaling experience.  With the shoes on our feet, we sit down and snap the shoes onto the pedals.  A slight twist of the ankle frees the foot from the pedal — shoe and all.)

Holiday Cheer: Garden Fest of Lights

It’s 10:00p and it’s about 40F (4.5C) outside.  After having spent several hours wandering around in cold temps, we’re now tucked in cozy and warm in Room 1812 at the Omni in Richmond, Virginia.  Why are we here?  Because we wanted to enjoy some holiday cheer at the Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden (LGBG); a change of pace from the usual Christmas light displays we’ve enjoyed in DC in the past.

National Christmas Tree  — Washington, dc ()

Lest you think we pulled the Phaeton out of storage for this outing … no, we didn’t.  With the coach all winterized, we have no intention of going anywhere in it until the temps warm up considerably.  But, Mui and I talked about our various blogs, and decided that with less than a year to retirement, we’d start posting our local adventures in Phaeton Journeys.  So, here I am.

What a splendid evening we had with thousands of lights glittering and shimmering all around us.

That said, the start to our adventure wasn’t so great.  We left DC around 2:45p and all was well at first.  The sky was blue; there were interesting cloud formations; the temperature was a “balmy” 57F (14C); and traffic was flowing.  Then we hit I-95 South and found ourselves in bumper-to-bumper traffic that was moving slower than molasses.  No, there wasn’t an accident; it was just the usual daily exodus from the city.  It seems rush hour starts earlier and earlier around here.  It took us over two hours to drive the 60 miles to Fredericksburg.  Ugh!  After that point, however, traffic picked up nicely, and with an average speed of 70 mph (112 kph), we traveled the remaining distance to Richmond in about an hour.

It was crowded at the LGBG; more so than I thought it would be.  In fact, the reason why we braved the Friday afternoon traffic was because we hoped there would be fewer visitors as compared to Saturday.  We were especially surprised at the number of children — school groups, it seemed like to us — that were roaming the grounds.  Most of the kids were well-behaved and seemed to be enjoying the colorful lights around them.  But each group had the requisite few who were “up-to-no-good” with their loud, pseudo-enthusiastic appreciation that the teachers seemed to have difficulty controlling.  Oh well; until we retire and can sightsee at our leisure during the week we just have to deal!

I’m going to share just a few of my photos here.  I was lazy and didn’t take my tripod.  I should have known better, but I was hoping the monopod would suffice.  It didn’t.  I ended up using an ISO setting higher than optimum and that introduced more “noise” than I like to see in my pictures.  I have no one to blame but myself, of course.  And yes, I’ve learned my lesson!

Fear not; for those who would like to see more of the festive lights, here’s a short video from Mui.  Ascribing to the “KISS theory” — keep it simple … you fill in the second “s” word of your choice — he took only the Canon S95 point and shoot still camera, leaving his video equipment at home.  He got really good footage with that little camera; handheld and in HD, no less.  Maybe I should just chuck all my SLR gear and just get one of these cameras myself!

We left the LGBG shortly after 9:00p.  Despite the cold temperature — it was down to 43F (6C) — we really enjoyed our three-hour stroll.  Of course, it helped that we were bundled up in the expedition parkas we received this summer when we went gallivanting in the Norwegian Arctic.  What would have made the garden fest better?  Music.  There were no carols being sung; nor was there any music broadcasted around the grounds.  Some Christmas audio cheer would have put the finishing touch on the festivities.

One last glimpse of holiday cheer — from the Conservatory towards the Visitor Center.

A short drive from the LGBG put us at the Omni Richmond Hotel for our one-night stay.  Whenever we find ourselves in need of a hotel room, we tend to use Priceline to bid for one.  It’s a great means for getting a really good room at a discounted price — provided you do your due diligence first.  We’ve not had a bad room yet!  And in every instance, we’ve gotten a hotel with a higher star-rating than what we bid on.  It was no different this time; for $85 we got the Omni, located in the heart of the historical district and just steps from the Virginia State Capitol!  Even better, when we reiterated our request for a quiet room, they upgraded us to the Club Floor at no additional charge.  Not a peep can be heard from outside, so we’re happy campers :-)

The hotel promises “southern hospitality.”  So far it’s delivering on that promise.

After checking in and dropping off our overnight bag in the room, we went back out to briefly enjoy the holiday cheer at the James Center, which is adjacent to the hotel.  The small outdoor plaza was a-twinkle with white lights and deer … and there was even some music to add to the festive atmosphere.

Not only is there holiday cheer on the grounds outside the Omni …

… there are Christmas decorations in the indoor plaza as well.

All in all, a very satisfactory outing and well worth the 120-mile (192 km) drive down from DC.  We have fluid plans for our return trip back north tomorrow … we’ll see what the day brings.

They are Off!

Yesterday, I took photos of the Greenstreet Cyclocross race at Fontenelle Park. Day one of the race was a warm, windy day. I think the temperature hit 80 during the afternoon.

Its going to be a different situation today for the second day of the race. Its still windy, but temperatures are forecast to be in the 30s and some light drizzle (cyclocross weather).

As usual. my photos are available for viewing and purchase on my race and events web site http://win-photo.photoreflect.com. The photos on the web site are jpg proofs. When a photo file is ordered, I will start from the camera RAW file do some touch-up before converting to jpg and e-mailing the file to the customer.

I Have ALWAYS Eaten Too Much

When Cocoa and Barley (http://the2mightybeans.blogspot.com/) came up with this tag, they may just have had a pup like me in mind. Embarrassingly, Sierra Rose has tagged me with the "OOPS I ATE IT" award, cause she knows my history (cough). Do you have the time, bloggie pals, to read my epic about foodables (not to mention non-foodables) I've lifted over a 2-year course of time? Seat your butts and/or bodies down into a comfy place while I spin the saga of Sammie's (stolen) and mostly ingested items.
Contemplating...
Okay... here are the rules to this award:"When accepting this award, you must blog about the food you have stolen when your humans were not watching. If you have never stolen any food, you must have been a really good pup! You can accept this yummy tray of cookies as your reward! Next, add the logo of this award to your blog (optional), then nominate at least 5 other furry blogs and let them know by leaving a message on their blogs."Well... I don't know if there's any "oops" to it, except mama's and dad's incompetence at catching me heheh! I weighed 64 pounds when I came to my furever home in May 2007. By the end of September, I had gained 18 pounds. Here's how:In the first week, I destroyed an alarm clock, ate half a warm gingerbread cake and a potholder, two duck stuffies and a goose one. I munched on the contents of all bath waste baskets, worked on part of a door (plexiglas); when my attempts failed, I knocked it out and jumped outside to freedom. I bit and tore at two screen doors for freedom too. Then I found some form of food on a hike that contained marijuana - later it was not a pretty sight and required emergency vet treatment. Ate back hall carpet, a down pillow, 3 training bumpers, Ozzie's food, both wet and dry, breaking a dish in my attempts to get at it. Ate 2 cardboard boxes where mom's manuscripts resided. I ate corners of blankets, 2 of my Dad's shoes (not a match), apples and plums from backyard trees (that's why there's a wire fence out back today). I uprooted all the garden carrots I could find as well as mom's strawberries and tomatoes. Back in the house, I found two nicely cooked turkey breasts on the counter (WHERE were my keepers?) - got 'em plus a pound of raw turkey meat later that week. I'm very, very fast, and by now, very fat.Ma put me on a strict diet, but that didn't stop me from trying on walks, trails and open space. I'd gobble any poo I could find - horse, deer, bunny or - at home, kitty roca. Disgusting but rare, any upchuck available. I will steal anything from mom's office waste basket that's non-recyclable. She has to watch what she tosses in there. Kitchen trash can is always a major target, but I really can't get to it anymore. I did manage to score three of dad's socks. But the peeps are watching me much more carefully and I'm very hungry, poor me. I think that's why I went for the G-L-O-V-E. What a fiasco that was. It was that event that really put me on constant surveillance. A dropped doggie treat, meant for another pup, or a grandpeep's carelessly held snack is my only fair game these days and it's been tough. However, I was back to a trim 64 pounds a few months later, where I've stayed for a long time. And that's the truth of my sicko crimelife. I need a program! I know that so many of you have posted about this tag, so please, if you haven't received this award, I'd love you to take it and blog about it! I will read it - every word, drooling.Hugs xoSammie Pee Ess: I must, however, tag three particular bloggers, cause I'd really like to hear about the ingestions of stolen foodables (or non!)Tucker and DaisyMason DixieThe Rocky Creek Scotties

Winding up

It's been a while since I got to ride in genuinely windy conditions. That is, in part, because I've redefined what I consider to be a brutal wind after my New Zealand experience. Basically nothing I've seen since my return has measured up to my new description, until this morning. I ended up taking a ride to Binna Burra -- one of my all time favourite rides, but one I haven't done for quite a while (apart from the night ride two months ago). The Beechmont Plateau along the way is absolutely exposed to any decent wind in basically any direction. This morning it was a big, spanky old-fashioned westerly.

A wind can be considered brutal if controlling the bike takes any additional effort -- and that was the case several times this morning. Dealing with some of the gusts was a real game of cat and mouse. A lot of people would probably refuse to ride in such circumstances, but I loved every minute of it. The challenge inspired me, and it's this inspiration, the adrenalin resulting from the situation, that results in an emotional high, a sense of achievement in having taken on the elements, and won.

The scenery up there isn't bad either.

Easter escape part 2

NOTE: SCROLL DOWN AND READ PART 1 FIRST.
I awoke the next morning to a flat tyre. Instinct told me it was sabotage rather than anything I rode over late on in the previous day. The fact that the German backpackers from the campsite decided to swerve at me later in the day made me even more suspicious. Either way, it was nothing I couldn't deal with. I fixed the flat tyre and got on my way. I passed the villages of Mallanganee and Mummulgum, separated by a solid but beautiful climb of the Richmond Range.

Things passed uneventfully after this for a while, I just wound my way along toward the old ruins of Dyraaba (or so I thought). I took a detour through this area along yet another rocky, stony old dirt road, but it seemed most of the monuments and things I was supposed to be seeing here were hidden away on old properties that couldn't be accessed by anyone other than the property owner. It was pleasant enough, just not really what I had been expecting.


In the end I did pass through the actual village of Dyraaba (yes, there was something there). Evidently it was once a busy place that time seems to have forgotten over a number of decades. There were even some old ruins here too. After this I had just about had it with rocky dirt roads for one day, and decided to head for Kyogle and stay at the caravan park for the final night. It's pleasant enough without being overly special.

Of course, the ride home from Kyogle is one that I've now done many times, but it's so pretty that I continually enjoy it. It opens with the climbs of the MacKellar and Nightcap ranges, before descending into rolling country in the Tweed valley. The odd thing about it is that I was just 30km into the ride (and about 90km from home) when I started thinking about this ride as being "over" -- simply because the two climbs were now behind me.




After this there isn't a lot to tell. The southerly wind was still behind me, and it seemed to make things easier. There was the prospect of a heavy shower just outside Murwillumbah, but it never arrived. I did, of course, take the route home via Urliup, revelling in the fact that this place still retains some old world charm, but unfortunately it still leaves me with around 25-30km of suburbia to negotiate to the finish.

The coastal strip was surprisingly quiet for the final stretch. At least it was quiet in terms of volume of traffic. The idiots were still about. I rode past yet another car crash on the way home (I discussed that in another post), and evaded several other idiots (not all of which were in cars incidentally). It's astonishing that after that 25-30km of idiots I was suddenly glad to get home. Still, it is the Gold Coast, so there's no real reason to be at all surprised.
Overall, however, it was quite a rewarding weekend. The scenery of the ride was pretty, the little historical monuments were interesting, and and the traffic was quite reasonable once I evaded the usual Gold Coast snarl. It was also nice to be riding in some cooler air after six months of summer. There is, however, a lingering feeling that I've just about done all the touring there is to do in that area. I'll find something else there to interest me in time, of course. However, it's now time to move on and find somewhere else to occupy my long weekends for a while.
The Crows Next/Lake Perseverance tour to the north is the next on my agenda during the June long weekend. It will also be a final chance to try out the cold weather gear I plan on acquiring for Scotland in July. Before then, however, I've signed up for a 300k audax ride in Brisbane for Saturday. Far from being burned out by this tour, I'm actually quite enthusiastic about my next cycling challenge. Bring it on!

Salcey Forest to Stoke Bruerne.

With Barry, Gordon and Eddie. Very hot. One or two unclear footpath experiences, including one that disappeared completely. About 11.5 miles. Lunch at Boat Inn SB. Too much road as well, though they were mostly quiet ones.


From the main visitor car park, we walk along the road and over the M1 towards Hartwell. Here we turn off to our right on the path towards Rowley Wood. We have to skirt the wood and we end up back in Hartwell, since the other route is likely to be longer. We decide on a footpath leading southwest past a farm.

This is where we have the disappearing footpath experience though we think it may be due to very poor signposting. We waste a good half hour, then retrace our steps and head off towards Ashton, turning right along the Roade road - yes, I had to write that. We take a footpath opposite a house marked as Colmarel Kennels on the OS map, and follow it without too much trouble. It leads towards the main Milton Keynes to Rugby railway line, and emerges on to the road into Ashton just before the bridge.

under the mainline railway bridge

We walk through Ashton, turning right, going past the Old Crown pub and then taking a footpath to our left between two houses. The path turns right/west very soon, gradually making its way over several fields downhill gently to the canal. We wander a little because of crops, but no real problems in this part.

A disreputable crew?

We meet the canal at Lower Lock Farm, andturn right along the towpath. It's a short mile to Stoke Bruerne past locks, and canal boats.

Under-bridge mosaics,

moorhen and chick

on boat veg garden

growing cygnets

Dry dock

We lunch at The Boat Inn - decent grub, long wait.

The view across the canal

Back via the road to Ashton - it's a pretty quiet one, so not unpleasant.

Wellingtonia and house

tall tree

Then across country again to Hartwell, where we have a rest in the little cemetery and chat to a woman who is clearing the leaves.



From here we walk back along the road to Salcey Forest.

Altogether we've walked just over 11 miles - it's been pretty flat, and quite hot.