On Tuesday morning, we got on the trail early, stopping for breakfast at Java John’s Coffee downtown, then riding out past the fish hatchery to milepost 6, where the Trout Run Trail begins to climb more steeply, making a fast return through the city for a 25.6km ride.
Downhill is faster than uphill. This run of 25.7km/hr (16mph) raised the average speed to 17.4km/hr (11mph) for the 27.4km (16 mile) ride.
We left the campground after our ride and headed east to continue our tour of the Mississippi River Valley into Minnesota, where the nearly deserted two-lane scenic road turned into a 4-lane highway, US 61, connecting La Crosse, Wisconsin to Duluth, Minnesota, following the Mississippi to Minneapolis. We stopped at the Winona visitor center and were directed to the city campground, on Prairie Island. Unlike the well-groomed city tourist campground in Decorah, Prairie Island is a frequently-flooded riverfront camp with a fair complement of semi-permanent residents. Nevertheless, we had a pleasant evening, with the nearly-deserted tent camping area lit by a full moon.
Mississippi River, near the Iowa/Minnesota border.
Sunday dawned clear and cool: Matt, CJ, and we oldsters drove down to Olin Park on Lake Monona to ride our bikes out through the UW Arboretum and then north and down the Southeast Trail back to the park, a total of 19.5 km, with 95 meters of climbing. Most of the ride was on bike trails and the Arboretum roads, but in between were several residential streets with no bike lanes and a vague idea of the general direction to go.
Across Monona Bay.
We had ridden the Southeast Trail two years ago, so that was familiar, but the rest was new. Matt’s bike was misadjusted so that he couldn’t shift into the large chainring, and CJ hasn’t yet been schooled in the art of distance cycling, so we were able to pull ahead often, then slow to a leisurely pace to wait for them to catch up. This wasn’t a long ride, but did prove our hill-climbing ability, with long but not steep hills.
“The guys,” playing with “sinky toys” in the pool.
After our ride, we lounged by the pool at Matt’s apartment complex, and Ashley and Travis joined us for a barbecue. A long day in the sun, but most pleasant, surrounded by family.
One of the many bridges on the Pheasant Branch Trail.
Today promised to be the best weather all week–hot but dry, so we put the “Q” tandem on top of the car and headed to Middleton’s Quisling Park, the western terminus of the Pheasant Branch trail system. The short and fast paved trail meandered along the creek, first through commercial parks on the prairie, then diving and twisting down through a wooded run, ending at a nature conservancy, where the trails were crushed limestone, so we turned around.
The trail continued downhill on gravel, not a good surface for tandems, so we turned around.
The trip back was not as steep as it seemed, so we made good time, and took a couple of side trails a short distance. On the trail paralleling US 12 West, we were overtaken by a legless man in a racing wheelchair, who was continuing north, while we turned around at the Airport Road. Another side trail led to the Costco parking lot, but we didn’t have enough cargo space to do our shopping today, so we returned to the main trail and continued on, making a few parking lot loops at the end of the trail to reach our distance goal for the day, 16 km.
Circling the parking lot to reach the 16km distance bogey for today. We chose not to ride the unpaved trail segments or get too far off the main trail, so came up short. A longer ride would have been nice, but it was getting hot toward noon.
In the afternoon, we drove south to the village of Oregon, to meet our grandson after school. We went for coffee to the Firefly Coffeehouse, one of our favorite anywhere in the country. CJ was anxious to show us his computer work, after introducing us to his YouTube channel, where he posts videos of games he is working on. He’s a beta tester for a 2D game and also works on the Wiki to explain tips and tricks of the evolving game, working closely with the designer/programmer.
Somehow, we let ourselves be talked into entering the XBox360 world of Minecraft. I generally avoid video games altogether, being satisfied with a limited range of what used to be board games–cards, tiles, word and number puzzles, etc. But, it was important to him to share, so we grasped the ears of the very unfamiliar controller and got quickly sucked into the game grid. After a brief, on the move introduction, we deduced that the buttons and toggles on the controller consisted of thumb controls for tilt-and-pan and left-right-forward-back, with some sort of switch action, four mode switches, which controlled vertical jumps, switching between first-person and third-person point of view, and other functions we didn’t get. There are also four finger switches on the top of the controller that performed actions, like striking and picking up and putting down objects, which ended up in various inventory displays at the top or bottom of the screen.
Video game lesson–grandpa is the student here.
Sitting close to his large monitor, first-person POV became immersive, with a feeling of moving clumsily through a strange world with a limited field of view and physics that didn’t work quite right, but could be compensated for fairly quickly. Nevertheless, our first foray into Minecraft consisted primarily of finding shelter and hunkering down, avoiding traps and pitfalls on the way. Not very exciting for a 13-year old, but he was happy that we at least tried and managed to keep our characters alive (but not without help).
We got into a discussion of programming (he does mostly Javascript, probably due to lack of tools for other languages), inevitably leading to the subject of Linux. He asked how I came to Linux, and I had to explain that I worked with similar systems before, had built a Linux computer as soon as it had become somewhat functional, and earned a living managing large Linux systems and installations for nearly 20 years. With the hint that, while Microsoft owns the game world, with Windows and XBox the primary gaming platforms, Linux powers the Internet, we may be able to wean him from the Dark Side yet.
Family resemblance. Granny’s shirt features a bicycle and “I ride to burn off the crazy.” Well, does not apply here–we’re having a good time visiting everyone in one long trip.
Dinner out, a dog walk, and more gaming demos kept us out very late, for a school night, so we left him with a promise of more time over the weekend.
the “You are here” dot shows us at the trail junction east of town.
After an excellent breakfast with our host, we found the Alumni office at Wartburg and picked up our registration packet for the weekend Commencement and Class of ’65 reunion activities, then changed into bicycling mode to explore the Waverly Rail Trail. The trail started next to what I remembered as the Carnation powdered milk plant, now a Nestle candy bar factory. We braved a flock of Canada geese guarding the trestle across the Cedar River, stopping at mid-span for photo opportunities.
Geese guard the rail bridge across the river.
After crossing busy Bremer Avenue, the trail skirted the river bend on the southeast edge of town, then climbed gradually through farms and woods and over ravines and streams on high trestles to the trail junction at Hwy 63, where we turned around and headed back to town, for a 26-km out-and-back trip.
Tunnels and bridges appeared frequently on the trail.
After changing back into street clothes, we drove downtown for lunch at the Wild Carrot Cafe, at first glance simply a candy and gift shop, but with a large dining room in the back, behind the kitchen. The food was good, with larger portions than we are used to in a deli-bakery, but we were hungry after our ride. We had pushed a bit harder to enjoy the speed on the nearly level trail: the GPS reported an average 17.8km/hr moving speed.
At the turn-around point. Signs are in miles, of course.
Another short walk around the campus, afternoon coffee at a shop near the college, and then we retired to our lodging for some Internet time before our evening social, where we met old friends and acquaintances from my college days. It has been 30 years since we were back here. We don’t think we’ve changed all that much, but everyone’s thoughts were, “Where did all these old people come from?”
The social hour, with tiny (but very good) canapés as the only food, was held at the clubhouse (Klubhaus, a concession to the German Lutherans from Wartburg) of an over-55 retirement community north of town, but within sight of the college campus. No, we are not moving to Iowa. Many of my classmates have multi-generational ties to the college or the region and have either stayed or returned from far-flung careers. Amazingly, many of us have had mobile careers, living in the same places but at different times–New England, New Jersey, etc.
Cedar River, Waverly, Iowa
The rest of the weekend is filled with organized activities, so this was perhaps our only opportunity to explore the area on our own. In 50 years, much has changed, on campus and in the town. The campus has been architecturally transformed into more of a community than an institution. At close scrutiny, the old buildings I remember can be seen behind new facades and embedded in newer, larger structures. The most striking changes are the elevated covered walkways (skyways) that connect all of the main buildings, so students rarely need to venture out-of-doors during the harsh Iowa winters.
The town has, like most small towns in America that still thrive, expanded outward. The city core, rather than being filled with abandoned edifices of a former century, shows former elegant bank buildings turned into beauty shops and boutiques, and upper floors renovated into modern urban housing.
Looking downstream on the Cedar River at the bridge that separates “downtown” from “uptown,” the city center on the left and the college district on the right.
Cutting through the Rail Yard parking lot to get to the trail. Photo by Judy
Our first day in Santa Fé was warm and sunny, an ideal day for riding the 20km out to our granddaughter’s house south of the freeway. We oiled the chain, essential after 10 days of being battered by road grit, wind, rain, and snow on top of the car, and set out, with a vague mental image of the route. Relying on line of sight to keep the railroad tracks in view, we made our way through downtown Santa Fé, finally solidly on the trackside trail.
The Arroyo Trail, deceptively downhill, even in the “flat” parts. Photo by Judy
Before long, we arrived at a fork in the trail, near the high school, and took the right fork down into the arroyo, a path that continued downhill at an alarming rate, as we would have to climb back up in the heat of the day, when we would be tired. But, we enjoyed the speed, zooming over a bridge and continuing down the arroyo, forgetting that the bridge was the junction where we should have turned left (uphill) onto Richards Street. We suspected we were off our route when we arrived at Sam’s Club on Rodeo Drive.
Looking back up the arroyo from the overpass on Rodeo Drive. We knew we were lost at this point, but at least in the right direction. Photo by Judy
With an “Oh, well, we’re still headed in the right direction,” we descended back into the arroyo and continued on, until the trail broke up into a series of short, twisty, uphill segments through a housing development and ended on a boulevard. There was a bike lane, so we continued on the street, eventually arriving on Cerrillos Street, NM Highway 14, the main route to Interstate 25. We’re now not lost, but not where we intended to be. Judy’s rule about not riding on the road and not riding steep grades while I’m still on anti-coagulant medication had long since been broken, so we continued on, stopping at the new Starbucks near the intersection with I-25.
A bonus to being lost–we found the Starbucks on NM 14 near the intersection with I-25. Photo by Judy
Steeled by a dose of caffeine, we set off once more, dodging cars and trucks on the freeway ramps, finally rejoining our intended route, still on busy Highway 14, but our only choice until we turned off to our granddaughter’s neighborhood at the bottom of a steep hill. When we stopped, the GPS read a bit over 20km. Our misdirection turned out to have saved us a few hills and about 2km, at the expense of a little [more] freeway madness, but with a much-needed coffee stop.
RaymondRocky, Karyssa, Patrick, and Kayla. Paul Jr is in Las Cruces, where he just finished his senior year in high school.
After lunch and a visit with the great-grandchildren, we climbed back on the bike for the long uphill ride back to our lodging downtown, this time intending to take the route we had planned, a quiet road paralleling the freeway to the northeast, then under the freeway to the Arroyo Trail. However, without a detailed map and dodging unexpected heavy traffic, we turned off the highway too early and then missed an alternate left turn that would have put us on our intended route, continuing uphill on a very busy rough road with no shoulder. From time to time, we could see the freeway getting farther and farther away to the north, yet pressed on, arriving in a new housing area at the top of the hill. We flagged down a passing cyclist, Steve, of similar age to our ourselves, to ask directions. Yes, we were lost, with the choice of backtracking 4km to Highway 14 and taking the right route, or pressing on through hills and traffic to Richards Street, which would get us back on track.
By this time, we were hot and exhausted: Steve offered to get his pickup truck and take us to where we needed to be, an offer we couldn’t refuse. So, off we went with Steve and Joan, in increasingly heavy traffic and confusing intersections, which we would not have wanted to cycle through. Finally crossing the arroyo, we, not wishing our kind rescuers further traffic trauma, had them pull over. We descended once more into the arroyo, riding around the south side of the high school complex, then ascending steeply (pushing the bike) to the intersection with the rail trail, a gentler grade, which we followed back to the main rail station and then back out onto the streets for the last leg of our journey.
This was a lot more fun going the other way earlier in the day. Climbing up out of the arroyo to the rail trail to downtown. Photo by JudyThe trail becomes less distinct near the train stations. This is the Rail Runner, commuter service between Santa Fe and Albuquerque. Photo by Judy
Our total riding today was 33km, in three segments, with lots of hills and road riding, our longest daily total since 2013, and at 2100 meters elevation. When we first arrived in the high country, a couple of days ago, we found ourselves out of breath just walking up stairs, but we seem to be acclimatizing rapidly. Professional cyclists routinely train above 2100 meters as a legal performance enhancement technique, so maybe the pain will produce gain, even at our age.
