March 15, 2009

The idea is to get across the Mendota Bridge and down the old Snake Trail into St. Paul for some good nature/river riding. But as soon as I'm out the door, I'm wondering if I got out too late, and before I even hit Minnehaha park I notice it is again noticeably "cold" in my shorts and pullover. I stop to take a peek at the falls, thinking they might be breaking up a bit (I was here two days earlier and it was all solid ice with a small stream flowing back behind the ice mass and emerging down below). I'm floored – it's wide open with the creek just pouring down into the little channel that workers have created while they try to repair/reinforce the old WPA-era retaining walls.

Lots of folks are walking on the trails and I'm happy to grab the road heading south toward the back entrance of the park; its pavement always offers a nice, smooth, fast ride. But I have to stop and do a quick 180 when I spot a lone wild turkey pecking improbably in the grass at the edge of the road. Friends have told of sightings not far from here and I've read many accounts of seeing larger groups of these wonderful ancient birds down on Pike Island, but this is a first for me. Strange that he is not skittish and allows me to approach quite closely – usually when I come across turkeys in the woods they are quick to flee.

The fading sun and "cold" air make me quickly reconsider my ride, but I figure I'll blast on across the bridge, take in a piece of the Snake Trail and then turn around rather than attempting the long loop. But I'm seized by an instantaneous and spontaneous alteration to the amended plan when I see the gate to Cold Spring wide open. In my experience it is normally closed, which doesn't keep one out if one wants to climb a fence or crawl through a torn gap in same, but it always prevented an approach by bike.

I had heard that the old Bureau of Mines complex was being abandoned, but didn't realize that would mean unfettered access to the Spring. The main building looks in good repair if not current use, but the other facility in the back has already been ransacked (by adolescents, I presume).

Last time I was here, it was the dead of winter and the little pool at the spring was full of mallards, but today it's empty. Another fellow on the scene tells me that there are carp swimming around in there, though (I take his word for it, too interested in the rapid degradation of the buildings to go have a look in the water). He's wearing headphones and a hoody and riding one of those little BMX bikes, the kind that make even grown men like him appear childlike (to me, anyway).

It's somehow very pleasant down here. I park my bike in a snowbank and poke around the grounds for some time, observing the spring snowmelt and wondering what will become of the buildings and the site. I've heard that a local Native American tribe is trying to lay claim to it and I hope they get it, although I doubt they will. I don't know all the ins and outs about treaties or whatnot, but figure the federal government basically took it from them in one way or another. I also suppose there is less chance the land will be "developed" if they get the land back, but I could be wrong about that.