This morning I was downstairs probably commenting on someone else's blog or something when TOPWLH announced that the sun was out. This is a rare enough experience of late that an announcement was definitely called for. I dilly dallied, however, and by the time I arrived on the main floor the Groundhog's Day like sun appearance was over.
But today is the first day of traditional standard time. Today is a day on which for most of the years I have been riding no ride would have been possible. But with daylight time extended and with the whole lack of daytime scheduled activity, today was a double bonus opportunity to ride. The weather cooperated (a triple bonus opportunity?).
It was still only about 42 and still battleship grey when I geared up shortly after noon. The local weather channel promised partly cloudy and I took them at their word. It took a while but at about the six mile mark it happened. I stopped, got out my camera and put my right hand mitten in my pocket (need a bare hand for on the bicycle photography, don't you know?), restarted and got this picture while actually in the act of riding my bicycle.
I saw only two other GOBs (geezers on bicycles), one jogger, one guy on those roller ski things and three or four walkers, interestingly enough, this time only one of whom had a dog along for company.
I was riding along, composing a ride narrative in my mind of not seeing any bicyclists yet again when I met the first GOB on the downhill to Snail Lake. He was on a comfort bike, struggling up the hill, but as announced by his chartreuse riding jacket, he is a regular rider.
That downhill is one of the favorites of the resident Bianchi rider (RBR) who always announces to me when we join up again after riding down that hill what her top speed was. It is one of a couple of places where I always try to exceed the posted speed limit so we are going fast. I always encourage RBR to focus on the road at that speed and check the top speed at some later time. But it is an event, going down that hill. It has been at least a couple of weeks since I have gone 30 mph but today I achieved (according to my bicycle computer) a top speed of 33.2 mph on that hill. Zippy, zippy, fun, fun.
The sun had come out and at the next intersection there were some sumac that I had photographed the last time I was out there on a day when the sun wouldn't cooperate. I hoped for a better picture so I checked but those sumacs are officially and completely totally over. But I did get this picture of the part of the park across the street from Snail Lake. There is enough water in the swamp in that park that these trees are still exhibiting some color. That's mostly a mixture of aspen and oak.
I headed back down Rice Street but wanted to cut over at County Road F to the entrance to Lake Vadnais to confirm for myself that the hunt was also on in the Vadnais area of the park. The hunt was on but different conditions were being imposed on this part of the park.
I kept going. There were only a very few anglers present today, the least I have seen there this year. But one of the two or three I saw was, in deference to the other sportsmen present in the park, casting his line while wearing a blaze orange poncho. Good choice on his part, I thought to myself. Vadnais was pretty today.
Also of interest is that the Ligue 1 game scheduled for Sunday between Marseilles and Paris-Saint Germain was postponed because of an outbreak of H1N1 among the PSG players. I was struck by the report of this event on the official site of the French Football Federation: Swine flu and sport don’t mix. The French website refers to President Barack Obama without identifying his country. I found that to be pretty interesting.
2 comments:
Newsy post.
It looks like you're doing what I did yesterday -- making sure you get to your favorite spots at least one more time.
Vadnais is pretty this time of year.
40 deer per square mile is a big number. That is unnatural. It is bow hunting season here -- there's an element of risk riding in among those guys.
A nice day for a ride, and some nice photos resulted, to boot. I wonder if the same archers that were culling the herd at Crosby Farm were hunting in the area you were riding.
TT
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