Our unseasonable warm weather has returned in force today. When I left it was almost 60°F (15C) with a stiff westerly wind. I felt it was a good time to emphasize working the right leg near capacity on power, so it didn’t need to be a long ride. I headed out through the back streets paralleling Reno Avenue. This took me into Del City and through Trent Park, zigzagging around until I came out on Reno just a quarter mile from Eagle Lake. Through the lake and onto the Eagle Lake Trail, I paused as usual on the bridge over Crooked Oak Creek. It was flowing decently today from melting runoff. The North Canadian itself has a decent flow. Our first image was shot from under the I-40 crossing.
This takes me past the Indian Heritage Center, where giant dump trucks are dropping huge piles of ordinary red fill dirt all along that gravel road next to the river bank that allows access to the timing stations on the rowing course. Once I connected to the start of the OK River Trail (south bank) I spotted this interesting alignment of the water-slide and cable-slide towers against the downtown skyline. There were very few riders out on the trails, and even fewer pedestrians. The idea was to head into the wind with as high of a gear as possible on the relatively flat course.
By the time I reached Pennsylvanian Avenue bridge, I was through. This bridge isn’t that bad in terms of hiking up the slope to get up onto the deck. There’s a decent walled-off sidewalk and I rode that across, but the drop down to the north bank trail was very steep and the dirt/grass surface slipped a little under the pressure of my feet. Once down on the trail, it was so much easier whipping along with a stiff wind at my back. I decided to stop at the closer crop of pine trees west of the Walker Avenue bridge. I took a shot of my prayer chapel for the day. I sat on the pine needles and stayed awhile. Nothing heavy this time, just a few things to sort over in my head.
Times like this I wish with all my heart I had a close communion here in my area that understood my peculiar brand of faith.
It was a quiet ride through Bricktown and back home on NE 4th, the wind pushing me all the way.
My kind of prayer chapel, it don’t get no better.