Yes, there are a couple of places where accumulations of snow and ice still exist in the Twin Cities. One is this great mound, capped by dirt and litter, in a holding area of sorts adjacent to the Light Rail Trail near its junction with the Midtown Greenway bridge over Hiawatha. Still quite formidable, it looks like it can hang on for some time yet as we ease into spring.
I'm out with plenty of time for once and in the mood for exploring. Never mind all those colorfully clad folks whizzing by me, fueled by the full moon and near-spring weather and competitive juices – I just want to go slowly and check out the scenes.
It's just a tad "chilly" when I do pick up speed, sailing down the LRT past the famous Riverside Plaza buildings to 11th Ave, where I hang a right, head on across Washington Avenue, then left on the river road to the old Stone Arch Bridge. The water is coursing over the dam; I haven't seen it this high in a long time.
It's still too early for the cormorants who will come to roost in their favored spot here. No Bald Eagles, either, but I do spot a lone Canada Goose patrolling the area of the downed tree where I'd studied an eagle on my first ride out this year.
Off the bridge I can't resist following the route of that old ride, hanging a left to go see how things look around Boom Island. Today it's smooth sailing, and the back pathway on the east edge of Nicollet Island is totally dry, not the active riverbed it was last time. This has long been one of my favorite biking spots in the cities, especially when I reach the old bridge that crosses the back-channel over to Boom Island.
But today something is amiss. The area around the north and east shores of the lagoon and back channel has been scrubbed and flattened, apparently in preparation of some new construction or "development."
I had taken the charm of this spot for granted, but now it is developing an ambiance of terribly open, uncluttered genericism. After a short sally onto the island, I turn back to study the area a little more. It looks like the whole space around the back side of the channel is being prepped for something. When they replace the great old steel bridge with its wooden decking, will that mean it's time to leave town, to move to some other city?
Heading back from whence I came, I notice how much of the vegetation and tree cover has been cleared from the hillside on the west side of the trail. This also contributes to the new feeling of openness that I don't care for.
The old trail was always comforting for its sheltered, shady, sequestered quality. That combined with its unpaved simplicity (a comforting surface of dirt and gravel, and the placid water alongside, made it feel almost like a path in Europe somewhere. I hope they don't ruin it ... whoever "they" are.
Heading back south, I'm now well warmed and there is plenty of daylight left, so decide to visit another favored stretch of trail, the one that flanks the east bank of the Mississippi down below East River Road. It's a beautiful ride; I've always loved this stretch of elevated trail bed, and with the current high water it's even better.
As the trail drops down to riverbank level, though, there are some challenges in store. The river is not over the trail, not quite anymore, but the mud and slime remains. The fellow in front of me, with his simple cruiser, decides it's best to dismount and take a higher path.
I've got the right bike (cyclocross) but the wrong tires (skinny slicks). I decide to give it a try, but unclip from my pedals just in case it does not work out. Surprisingly, it's quite bike-able! The second challenge has deeper water and more mud, and the river is in part of the trail. Again, it's well bike-able!
The third challenge is the one that does me in ... it's not the mud or the water but the giant tree lying across the path that has me foiled. I try to grab the little walking path up and around, briefly, but again it's the right bike with the wrong tires and I can't keep my grip. So I dismount and walk back through the mud. Lots of fun!
All good things must come to an end, they say (whoever "they" are). I slide by a couple of favored slots where the river backs up into the bottomland. I sometimes see interesting birds here, like bitterns and kingfishers, but it's too early in the season for them, and today it's only mallards and geese. I climb the big hill and grab the path along East River Road, winded. Then I just sail on back across the Peace Bridge over the big river one more time, thinking, "wow, that was fun." About as much fun as a forty-something, married guy can have in the big city on a Friday night.
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