On the bridge I'm surprised that there are not more people, and those who are there are still fully clothed with coats on. I stop for a couple of pix, in particular a tree stranded in a shallow pool of water and ice shards that has an unbelievably powerful graphic quality. I'd drink in that image even longer if not for the stiff breeze coming up the river. Just as I pull the camera away I notice the dark shape of huge wings. Shadow? Goose? Bald Eagle.
For the next 10 minutes I study this big bird as he lands on the tree and patiently explores, heron-like, the shallow pools around it. No fish today, but I do seem him take a couple of drinks of good Mississippi River water.
Stunning encounter. It's turning into a crisp but great ride. I decide to slide on over and head up river a bit. Across the cobblestones on old Main Street and over the old bridge to Nicollet island. I get on the main road there and find my stride, loving the smooth pavement and powering past a bus (o.k., it was parked and idling). Not sure that I like the new athletic field and the newly cleared spot across the road (just piles of bricks there now, but I suspect they are preparing this to be a parking lot).
The area has been cleaned up quite a bit, and it's now much easier by bike to cross the railroad tracks and access the old trail to Boom Island. This is one of my favorites, as it is wooded, along water, and is not paved. Today, though, it is an active riverbed. The snow and ice melt from the hillside is coming down and forming a swift stream down the trail bed. I take the challenge, which is a pretty good one for an old guy like me, and bike down the center of the stream. Most of the trail is still coated with ice under the running water, and it's impossible to tell how much is slushy vs. slick. A good, exhilarating challenge on a skinny-tired cyclocross bike, and I make it to the end without a spill. Down below the stream falls off to the right and empties into the river backwater. Boom Island is cold and breezy ... still plenty of snow on the trails and some folks in the soggy grass are flying kites. Breezy and chilly, but I stop for a moment to take a look at the downtown skyline over the river.
Before long I decide to complete the loop and poke out and head back west across the Plymouth Avenue bridge. There's no doubt that I'll take the road, not the trail, back south – I'm done with ice puddles and that trail is notoriously bumpy and dominated by joggers (they do have their own designated path, but I decided long ago to give up on understanding runners, why they run on the bike trail, in the wrong lane, facing the wrong direction, etc.). The road provides false security, though – under what looks like a normal, small puddle is actually a deep pothole. The shock sends my front wheel sideways, and I swear that either the rim or my hand or both are broken. My bike is an impressive beast, though, and fares much better than my hand and wrist. They'll be OK, too, in time. What a great ride. I set sail back south, loving the day and the city – the only downside, as I slide back down river road, is being forced to observe once again how hideous the new Guthrie is.
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