Radix Fidem Blog

The map shows where all but one of the images were taken. It was stiff southerly winds, overcast with scudding clouds and occasional breaks of sunlight. Warm enough but the storms are headed this way. I really didn’t need a long ride; I just wanted to test the new saddle. It actually made my butt feel better, so that part was a success. I rode north on Midwest Boulevard and up to Wilshire Boulevard. Turing right it becomes a gravel road running east to the bank of the North Canadian River. The road is public and I am under the impression the county owns the little pocket at the end. Either way, it was all wide open and no signs or restrictions. The image to the upper right here shows some concrete block walls still standing, and it was visible on the satellite view if you zoom in really close, so I was curious.

Climbing over the construction rubble, I had a nice view of a tight bend in the river. The first shot here is viewing northward, which is downstream. The second shot is southward, upstream. There really wasn’t a whole lot to see here aside from the ugly rubble, so I let some of it show in the frames. It’s present in massive quantities dumped in tall mounds for quite a ways up stream.

Behind me is the Canadian Valley Sod Farm. Would you believe nature seems to know when you have a camera and want nice landscape shots? My head is aimed around at random, but nature grabs my eyes and says, “Lookee here!” However, I can tell you my little camera loses just a little of the subtle nuances that cause the eyes to marvel. This is a sag that runs across the field just off the river; it was there before any farming activity. The original settlers didn’t bother with relocating natural drainage, but at some point during the previous century, when it became feasible and affordable, laws and regulations made it technically illegal without some serious hassles to gain a permit to change a natural water course. You can’t see this from across the field up on Midwest Boulevard.

On my way home was a stiff headwind. Now, Jeanette is different from the Edgewood. The latter was longer and heavier with less roll-resistance, and kept up a good momentum, making it faster on long rides. Jeanette is lighter and far more responsive, and encourages a more touristy, taking-it-easy kind of ride. So heading into the wind was only slightly slower because knobbies do offer just a little roll-resistance, but it was just a fun and patient pedaling while checking out the odd crap people lose that falls in the ditch. It ranges from mundane, to inexplicable, to sometimes actually still useful, and on rare occasions something even obscene. I’ve picked up some interesting tools lying at the edge of the roads, though. And frankly, I like the winds.

Anyway, I just kept rolling along until I got back to the river crossing where all the work has resumed. Not much had changed visually, but I noticed a previous view I shot with winter brown is now showing a spring dress rehearsal with some green.

And on a future exploration, I could find myself back in that foliage somewhere since the satellite images show a trail back there.

It came in the mail yesterday, several days early, and I was so glad to see it. On many newer type bicycles, the steering changed. You can’t just raise the “goose-neck” like you could with old bikes. I had to order an extension called a “stem riser” that raises it all up about 2″ (50mm). It wasn’t such a big deal yesterday with very little time on the roads, but I wanted to hit Draper today and I was expending soreness from the handlebars being lower than the seat. Draper is 20 miles (32km) minimum from where I live.

I can’t find the name for this tributary to Crutcho Creek, but it seemed a lovely shot on my way out to Draper Lake. I don’t actually plan my rides any more beyond simply heading in the direction of the lake, for example. It crossed my mind that I could try out the Draper Trails area for mountain bikes, but came in from the west side so I opted for a test of a randomly chosen trail. The trail where the Medical Examiner’s team was a few weeks ago seemed like a good starting point. This huge washout (#3) was picturesque, but the soil was too wet and goopy all around there.

Down a ways was a gravel road marked for Point 6, so I grabbed that. It was about a quarter-mile down to the dock. The place had not seen much maintenance lately and the lower water make it a little ugly. Still, it offered a chance to take a look at the shoreline trail. This is a very rough flat dirt path wide enough for motor traffic, but not at all developed for it. It’s open to horse, pedestrians and bicycles. I saw some tire tracks that weren’t too old.

This trail exists pretty much on the entire shoreline and is visible from any satellite mapping imagery. I took off southward from Point 6 and it snaked around every point and cove, making for a far longer ride than the paved ring road around the lake. Today it was just wet enough to be a drag on riding, so it became too much work for more than a couple of loops. At one point it was just a few steps from the road I came in on, and I jumped the barrier and rode back out. Maybe another day, but it’s supposed to rain this weekend, so I’m not in a hurry to try again soon. Hopefully it dries before the heat of summer arrives. Otherwise there will be vast clouds of biting insects and a few venomous snakes to spice up the trail just a bit. Meanwhile, the trees told me they were glad to have someone they could talk to, but very sad so few humans with an active sensory heart passed on a regular basis.

So it became an easy cruise on the paved road. I keep talking about how Creation is a living thing, and all of my bikes have talked to me, usually through my body. This one tells me to take my time and not get into a hurry; enjoy the scenery and climb some stuff. So I spotted a good, high grassy hill off east of the road and climbed it for fun. At the top I encountered a marvelous view of West Elm Creek. That clump of tall, deeply gold colored grass is the same stuff that keeps calling my name from the roadsides everywhere I go. I took a moment to pray in the high breeze atop the hill and reach out to stroke the grass. It gave me a joyous thrill in response, and I needed the encouragement.

By now I realized that I simply must replace that saddle. It’s not wide enough for my bone structure and I was in pain long before I got home. Granted, this bike is a wholly different riding workout, using different muscles from the Edgewood, but I can’t recall when my butt hurt that bad from riding. Still, I went on around the lake to capture this image of the ongoing work on the new road on the NE corner of the lake. That path I showed in previous shots now looks like this: wider, flatter and packed hard already.

One of the few treats of the day was another tree in bloom. Unlike the stinky dogwood, these white blossoms exude a heavenly fragrance. I don’t remember what it’s called, but it’s native to this area. You’ll see bushes at first, and when they survive, they can become rather large trees. However, the wood is not that strong and they tend to die and rot before they get too large.

I suppose with the saddle soreness I should be glad it is supposed to rain tomorrow.

Update: I managed to find a replacement saddle I could afford — wide and cushy for my wide and cushy butt.

I loves me some river chasing.

(If you CTRL-click on the map, it should open in a new browser tab and you can refer back and forth to orient the images.)

I’m still learning, but today was the first full ride. It’s an entirely different kind of activity from road riding. This isn’t the end of long-distance rides, because Jeanette does pavement just fine. She’s fast and lighter, so more responsive, but the whole point is to play and experience the same areas from a different perspective.

I’ve decided I don’t like railroad tracks as much as I did as a kid. The first image (#1) is on the far right of the map where I hoped I could check out some more of the de-commissioned track from yesterday. While I found a ride-able path alongside, I had to dismount for this first creek crossing. It’s just too rough riding the ties in the first place, and some of these were about gone. The larger creek was a different matter. As the underbrush got thicker, I also found the bridge had been dismantled and piled to one side, with a bunch of fill dirt dumped on the tracks and no way to even take a look beyond it more than a few feet (#2). A discouraging experience.

So I came back out and rode north on Vickie to NE 4th and followed that down and across the very active rail lines that run at a different angle. But instead of turning right to stay on NE 4th, I decided to run up to where some old pavement runs east-west through the woods. A right would go right back to Sunnylane, but left went off quite a ways through the trees. That used to be a nice boat (#3). A good bit farther on the pavement ended and I spotted a makeshift dwelling in the trees. It was quite large, obviously in current use, and I wanted to respect their privacy, so I turned and went back to NE 4th the way I came.

Basic rule: Don’t violate signs, gates/fences or privacy when playing off-road. Just because a dwelling is technically illegal doesn’t justify rudeness. I try to avoid taking pictures of something that looks like an active human dwelling. I’ll simply tell you that I spotted everything from really nice tents to mattresses lying in the open and several other makeshift dwellings today, particularly along the river around bridges.

On NE 4th just beyond the asphalt mixing operating was a well-used dirt track running up over the flood-control dike and down into the river basin. This is all public land and open to recreational use, but you can see in the sign there are limits (#4), largely unenforced. This was my gateway to this day’s off-roading paradise. Just south along the bank from NE 4th stood a rail bridge alongside the remnants of a previous one (#5).

Just behind me and up over the dike was the NW corner of Eagle Lake. I’ve never been able to see it from this angle. I rode down a rough maintenance track to the far NE corner and aimed my camera back across the lake (#6). I turned around and faced a low spot filled with massive boulders, only some of which I could likely struggle to lift if I cared (#7). There was no way I could safely ride across them, and scrambling around I discovered that what was one a continuation of the maintenance track along the western shoreline had crumbled and dissolved into the water, so a full circumnavigation was out of the question. The only safe route crossed private property east of the lake.

Retracing my path, I turned left and followed the track around to where the Eagle Lake Trail begins and crossed Crooked Oak Creek the fancy bike bridge. But on the other side, I opted to stay up on the top of the flood control dike for awhile. This shot is very similar to one on a previous post, but from a higher angle (#8). I stayed with it awhile until I could see a climb that led through serious messy wet clay, and dropped down onto the official biking path. Staying on this down to the underpass at Eastern Avenue/ML King Boulevard (far right edge of the map) I went up over the dike again to catch a nice shot of the dam works when there was virtually no water to hide it (#9). I probably could have ridden through the shallow water in the bottom of the pan, only about two inches deep, but there was no simple way of getting out it on the other side.

Instead I climbed up the steep bank and rode across on Eastern to the other corner. The that SW corner in the shadow of the Interstate is very busy and bums like to sit there on the side barricade because they can see cops coming from any direction. The fellow today pulled his sign back to let me pass, and just beyond him I lifted my bike over the wall and clambered over after it. I had some fun doing a controlled descent down the bank to the lower path. It looked and felt completely different from the south bank. This shot looks northward at the Reno Avenue crossing (#10 upper right).

There are typically three tracks, sometimes merging and crossing, following the top of the dike, the middle flat and the lower one nearest the water. At one point I climbed up under the Interstate ramp because of washouts from a tributary, ending up on the highest level (#11). However, most of the time I stayed down on the lowest track possible. It was just so nice with grass and hard-packed sand, with splendid isolation. Despite the busy highway traffic, I was actually very much alone, in an entirely different world from the drivers and passengers.

This is a low-water time so much of the river bed is exposed and this scalloped pattern caught my eye (#12). I was having such a good time I rode on past NE 4th toward NE 10th. A rather large tributary cuts across the dike and shaped banks. This area sees very heavy ATV traffic, so I followed their well-established routes and found a very easy ford (#13). Aside from having to dismount for the sake of steepness in soft sand, it was actually rather fun because I was able to ride across the ford itself.

But I began to tire and decided to leave the trial after crossing under NE 10th. Once up on the road, I spotted a lake through the trees and remembered seeing something on the map about it: Wake Zone Cable Park (#14 is off the map). They have a bunch of tow cables running all over the place way above the water and you can ride a wakeboard without a boat pulling you. Their website is pretty informative, but visually very busy. Seems to me the satellite imagery indicates there’s a back side that might not be so tightly fenced. Maybe we’ll find out next ride.

On the way home, I discovered that riding through wet grass alongside the street cleans the tires from most of the clinging soil. This is the first time I’ve had a bike that made it fun and feasible. I also tried to skip the traffic by chasing the same unused rail line back toward my neighborhood, but I ran into lots of trouble. No more rail lines for me unless there is an extraordinary good reason. They are not fun any more.