Breaking Out (Part I)

Weak? Yes. Slow? Sure. Happy and privileged to be out and about on two wheels again? Indubitably.

After all, there were no more excuses. No longer sick, no longer in the grips of snow, cold, or other wise foul weather, there was nothing to keep me from my appointed rounds. So I brushed off the old mud splatters from last year as best I could, knocking off big clumps from the brake pads and other confluences, pumped up the tires to the correct pressure, found my helmet, gloves, and other gear, packed my camera, mini-binocs, and other props in the trunk and took off to nowhere special.

Or, in other words, off to some of the usual spots. The important thing was not to find a new or unique route or destination, but to break out of the grip of winter, of physical winter and the winter mindset that comes with it.

Yes, on that first ride out I was doing nothing special; I was up to my old tricks: riding to the same favorite spots (Stone Arch Bridge, Boom Island, etc.) and doing the same old things (looking to see if the early cormorant was back in his perch overlooking St. Anthony Falls; checking out the view of downtown MPLS from Boom Island).

There's no need to describe routes anymore; they've been described quite thoroughly in previous posts on this blog. And, after all, there are a limited number of routes anyway (just various configurations of the same segments): Creek-Lakes-Greenway; Downtown-Uptown-Midtown; River West-Light Rail-Stone Arch-Boom Island; River Gorge East-Secret Bridge; Bluff-side West/Cold Spring-Fort Snelling-Mendota-Snake Trail-I35/Harriet Island-Crosby-Hidden Falls; Bloomington-Wildlife Area- Ft. Snelling State Park East-Mendota; and so on and so forth. Yes, those trail segments have been repeated endlessly by this biker/blogger.

What's different is everything: the day, time, season, weather, wildlife, people, events, wind; the psychology and outlook and feeling of the rider. And the pictures, perhaps.

Breaking Out (Part II)

Yes, as I was saying, What's different is everything: the day, time, season, weather, wildlife, people, events, wind; the psychology and outlook and feeling of the rider. In this case the difference was birds. I was pretty well guided by them for most of the ride. In the shady (and still partially snow-covered) old rail bed on the western bluff of the river gorge, a Cooper's Hawk swooped out of nowhere and sailed low, in the shadow of the crumbling limestone wall at my right, leading me southward.



Finally it lifted and found a perch above the trail. I stopped to look, and it didn't seem to mind. We stared at each other for some time, neither one of us sure what to make of the other. Then down the hill I went to check out if Pike Island was accessible. It wasn't, but I was excited when I startled a lone coot plying the flood waters of the forest floor. I continued to the Snake Trail. Wherever I stopped it seemed that friendly chickadees perched nearby, reassuring me with sweet, harmonious, and calming notes. Further down, heading toward Harriet Island in Saint Paul, a pair of eagles (immature balds, I think) danced and chased each other overhead; they were so close and so big and so agile. Yes, the routes were old but my bird companions were new and refreshing on this outing.

And on my second ride out I decided to try out something new and different (actually an old and overdue notion): I mounted my camera to the bike and shot some short video clips of select segments of the ride. These are raw clips, downsized from the original but unedited and unmanaged – purely experimental and purely for fun. They in no way reflect the experience of the rider. No, the subtle beauty and enjoyment, the true feeling of flight, the startling of the wayward coot in the flood waters at the bottom of the hill are not well replicated in these videos. That's the beauty of riding: you have to do it to know it.

Down to the Falls

Down to the River, Part 1

Crossing the Bridge (Minnesota River)

Smooth Sailing (Snake Trail)

Down to the River, Part 2

I-35 Bridge

Crosby Bike Tunnel

Crossing the Bridge (Mississippi River)

A funny thing happened on the way to the forum. The forum, in this case, was the growing gaggle of gawkers up at the top of the entrance to Crosby Farm (gawking at the flood waters from high above the gorge, I guessed). The funny thing that happened was, after being so focused on capturing the ride in video, I shut the camera off and began sailing along the newly improved trail segment, and found myself experiencing the pure joy of biking. I didn't feel weak or slow anymore. I was just sailing along without a care in the world. What a great feeling.

Of course by the time I was back in the neighborhood, getting close to home at the end of the ride, I was back to my old stuff. I found myself stopping to photograph strange accommodations, a stage set for experimental urban theater, the spot for a one-act play, maybe, that is yet to be written, yet to be performed.