Winter Cycling and 30 Days of Biking, version 11

The good news is winter is probably over. I mean it snowed yesterday, but not enough to ski on or anything. There has been a lot of news lately; besides President Biden getting elected, the vaccine distribution for the Covid-19 virus and yours truly moving once again, Derek Chauvin was just found guilty on all three counts against him - Keith Ellison said it well: "George Floyd's life mattered."

Peyton Scott Russell mural, Lake Street, Minneapolis, 3-21. Photo by Michael McKinney.

Since October I have been riding my bicycle and keeping busy, probably not reading as much as I would like, (I read The Goldfinch last year and loved it, so far this year The Rub of Time is a big favorite), and still working on getting a few good bread recipes together for myself. 

Lake of the Isles ski trail, Minneapolis. 2-21. Photo by Michael McKinney.

The fishing has been good for me this spring, maybe a bit of redemption after not doing as well as I would have liked in Colorado. The fishing could always be better, but it is funny how quickly 6 hours of not catching anything can turn into the best day of the year. I read some author who said all fishermen are unwilling optimists, in that they eternally expect to catch something more significant than their last day on the water - most never do, but that never stops them from trying.

Sabo Bridge Sunset, 11-20. Photo by Michael McKinney

Hiawatha Bike Trail, 12-20. Photo by Michael McKinney

Selfie, Houlton WI, 12-20. Photo by Michael McKinney

In any case, the winter cycling was not without some challenges this year. I got caught in a pretty gnarly blizzard, and needed to commute about 5 miles through it on the night before Christmas Eve. My studded tires are great for some winter conditions, (packed snow on road surfaces, infrequent ice patches, fresh snow less than 2" deep), but this was a substantial snow fall with high winds. I came off my bike three or four times on the way home, either to dismount and carry the bike over snowdrifts or sliding out on areas where wind had pushed away all of the snow and left a solid ice surface over the roadway. 

Sky blue sky, Minneapolis, MN. 12-20. Photo by Michael McKinney

Anyway, that was one commute home. On another commute, a familiar bike path had frozen over completely, with solid ice rutted and deep enough to thwart my studded tires. I washed out pretty hard that night, and on one other occasion as well.

Sunset, North Cedar Trail, Minneapolis, MN. 11-20. Photo by Michael McKinney

After 8 years of trusting the studded tires on my cyclocross bike to get me through winter commuting, I think I will try something different next year - outfitting my 29er mountain bike with studded tires is probably the right choice.

As far as the here and now goes, it is April again, and that means 30 Days of Biking. Today is day 20 and I am not riding nearly as much as last year's furlough-enabled 1,000 miles. Being back at work has been rewarding and challenging, and I feel fortunate to be able to do the things I enjoy while being employed. There was a recent traffic ticket for "entering an intersection on a red light", but maybe I will talk about that some other day.

Chonky brown trout; Rush River, Pierce Country, WI, 4-21. Photo by Michael McKinney.

Today is a pretty good day.

Did you say "Moab?"

Arriving at the airport, very early. 10-6-2020. Photo by Michael McKinney

“ Sometimes I wonder if the world's so small

Can we ever get away from the sprawl.” - Arcade Fire

After cancelling plans for an early summer flyfishing and hiking trip to Boulder, Colorado, I thought I'd not have an opportunity to do any travelling this year.

I had been fortunate enough to rent a car and find some quiet spaces in Wisconsin, but getting an opportunity to see something new seemed untenable and very unlikely. With the 2020 Presidential election going in full gear, and work slowing down a bit, it seemed like there was a window of opportunity for some time off, and early October became a potential time frame.

NCAR; Boulder, Colorado, 10-6-2020. Photo by Michael McKinney

Blue Lake, Indian Peaks Wilderness, Colorado. 10-7-2020. Photo by Michael McKinney

I tied some new flies, borrowed some camping gear, found a local Colorado fly tier on Etsy, purchased some of his flies for insurance, readied myself for a third Covid-19 examination and crossed my fingers.

A couple of days later, there I was, settling into a one person tent in my cousin's backyard, reveling in the first of nine days of camping, fishing and cycling. Having rented a car from Denver I had enough time to stop at the Denver Museum of Nature and Science and appreciate its amazing gemology exhibit before forging on into Boulder. 

After a day trip to the Brainard Lakes Recreation Area and a hike into the Indian Peaks Wilderness to see Blue Lake, we made the long drive through SouthWest Colorado to Moab, Utah.

Campsite, Boulder, Colorado, 10-8-2020. Photo by Michael McKinney.

Leaving Summit County, Colorado; 10-8-2020. Photo by Michael McKinney.

Sunrise, Willow Springs Road, Moab, Utah. 10-9-2020. Photo by Michael McKinney.

Thanks Chuck! Moab, Utah. 10-9-2020. Photo by Peter McKinney.

Arches National Park, 10-10-2020. Photo by Michael McKinney.

If you have ever mountain biked there, you already know what I am going to say about riding over the massive rocks, through the deep sand, next to the steep vertical faces, admiring the expansive vistas, noticing the lizard tracks in the sand, learning to pay attention to the painted trail markers on the slick rock trails and the sand.

It's great. 

Arches National Park, 10-10-2020.

Arches National Park, 10-10-2020. Photo by Michael McKinney.

The Three of us, Arches National Park. 10-10-2020. Photo by Peter McKinney.

Petroglyphs at Arches National Park, 10-10-2020. Photo by Michael McKinney.

Dead Horse State Park selfie, 10-11-2020. Photo by Michael McKinney.

I stopped on the return drive to stay at an Airbnb, (something else I have never tried), and spent three days and two nights in Carbondale, Colorado, fishing on the Roaring Fork and Frying Pan Rivers. I did not capture that massive late summer brown trout I was hoping, (hyping?) for but I did have an exceptional stay and revisited some favorite fishing spots. I felt fortunate catching a few fish and enjoyed a leisurely drive back to Boulder with some fishing on Crystal Creek.

If you ever visit the Roaring Fork Valley and Carbondale, I suggest visiting The White House Pizzeria. I tried the Pad Thai pizza and it was very good. 

Roaring Fork River Access, 10-12-2020. Photo by Michael McKinney.

Roaring Fork Rainbow Trout, 10-12-2020. Photo by Michael McKinney.

Frying Pan River, 10-13-2020. Photo by Michael McKinney.

Frying Pan River Valley, 10-13-2020. Photo by Michael McKinney.

So where does that leave me - back in Boulder and ready for a 6,000 foot ascent on a borrowed bicycle, back to the Mitchell Lake Trailhead, through Ward, Colorado. A favorite ride for local cyclists through Left-Hand Canyon. I saw a number of cyclists the next day, either grinning enthusiastically on their descent or wordlessly nodding as they ascended.

Thanks Pete! Mitchell Lake Trailhead, 10-14-2020. Photo by anon.

The total ride distance was just over fifty miles, the elevation gain was more than 6,000 feet, the total time was about 3 hours and forty minutes, with a solid hour of descent. 

Huge appreciation post here to my cousin who took me out that night to meet some of his mountain biking friends, and his wife whose hospitality and culinary skills were graciously shared during my visit.

So that’s it I guess, I didn’t have insurance on my rental car, I fell over quite a few times while mountain biking and lost a few good fish.

I did hike into the Indian Peaks Wilderness, set a PR for ascent and descent, caught one nice 20” brown, fished 6 different bodies of water, visited Arches National Park, Canyonlands National Park and got a breather from the daily grind.

Unfortunately multiple wildfires were present during my visit and engulfed the canyon I rode through mere days after I left.

It wasn’t an easy fix but if you can swing it, I’d highly recommend taking that time off.

Minneapolis, 10-15-2020. Photo by Michael McKinney.

The inevitable mechanical issue

Awhile back I got into some trouble ... isn't that how all of these posts start?

"Awhile back I got into some trouble and yada yada yada, here is what I learned, I hope it is useful, take it or leave it, not to preach, etcetera etcetera, passive aggressive voice, should have learned my lesson but here I am" and so on and so forth.

So let's start with the Big Wheel. I didn't have a lot of toys as a kid. Star Wars figures in my neighborhood, and in my peer group, were the status symbol. I had a few, but also random oddities ... a Thundercats figure, a Tron figure, some Gobots; I was more Catholic in my tastes, you could say.

So the story goes I had a circuit I would ride on my Big Wheel, out my parents driveway, down the block, up a neighbors sloped driveway, skid turn, ramp down, back towards the parents driveway, over a grassy knoll, onto the concrete driveway of home, skid turn and start over. It was a dead end so how many times I could do it was more essential than watching out for passing cars.

Eventually, I got ambitious and tried a larger hill leading to my parents house. After a few tries I incorporated a skid turn, (remember the e-brake on the right hand side of the old all plastic Big Wheels?) and there begins a series of long and complicated crashes.

Skateboards, bikes, rollerblades, roller skis, skis, snowboards, cars ... just about anything that rolls down a hill I have crashed, with the exception of an oversized tractor tire. Don't ever try that. I strongly do not recommend that. Also wear a helmet.

Anyway, so what?, you crash and you get up and that's it. But not so with a decent working bicycle.

Sometimes the bicycle needs repair and then what? I have posted various DIY efforts on this blog before, and I am not sure anyone is really paying attention; sometimes I get it working sometimes not. I made a huge mistake in 2010, and therein lays the trouble I got into.

On a forty or fifty mile ride in Northern Washington County, past Big Marine Lake and William O'Brien State Park, I got a flat tire.

After breaking two tire levers, ripping two replacement tubes, cursing in frustration for forty-five minutes on the side of the road and eventually succumbing to a spiral of failure, I rode home on a flat tire. About nine miles on the aluminum rim of a new-ish wheel set.

Don't ever do that.

8 Years ... 8 very long years, with a lot of cycling miles later, I wore out a different wheelset. It took a little more than 10,000 miles over 5 years, but I needed to go back to that damaged pair of wheels, and I did. They were never right. The rear axle had been damaged and it occasionally oscillated so badly (usually going over 20 mph) that the rear hub would vibrate like a 1980s pager. So yeah, that was aggravating and embarrassing.

Couple that with trying to find out why it was not working without acknowledging I had ruined them made it worse, so here is an apology to those I harangued. The good news, and there has been a lot of it lately, is that life continues. Time passes. Sometimes the only person who rememberers how or why you came to be upset 9 years ago is you, and maybe explaining it isn't going to help anyone. What helped me a lot more was acquiescing and allowing someone to throw out that wheelset before I could try salvaging them one more time.

I enjoyed another 30 Days of Biking this spring, getting through another characteristically unpredictable Minnesota Spring with maybe a little less drama and fewer contradictions than how I came to be riding a bicycle year round to start with. The fishing has been a bit off due to high water (the Mississippi has set a record for being at flood stage for the longest period of time in recorded history, breaking the 1927 flood that shows up at the end of 'Oh Brother Where Art Thou?').

To be certain the potential for crashing is greater while cycling in the Twin Cities than on a dead end street in the suburbs; bike trails and multi-modal commuting are real world alternatives to making a poor decision or applying a little too much ego sauce on your plans and failing gloriously, "...in a cavalcade of anger and fear."

Did you know that while pitching the only perfect game in World Series history, Don Larsen threw a strike outside of the strike zone, and the umpire called it a strike?

I guess there is a lesson there about ethics and standards of operation, perhaps deviation from accepted norms and even the normalization of deviance, somehow, but I don't follow baseball.

March 7th, 2019. Photo by Michael McKinney.

April 5th, 2019. Photo by Michael McKinney.

April 9th, 2019. Minnehaha Falls, MPLS. Photo by Michael McKinney.

April 10th, 2019, Nicollet Mall, MPLS. Photo by Michael McKinney

May 4th, 2019 at the Fulton Fondo. 

October 2018

With summer passing into a very abbreviated autumn, the bike riding has gotten chillier and more infrequent. Although I make use of NiceRide bicycles as much as I can, sometimes it is tough to beat the warmth and free time riding the bus or train provides. It is probably indicative of having grown up in a town without public transit that I am just learning how vital it can be to know the efficiency and usefulness a reliable public transportation system engenders to those who choose to, or can afford to use it. Sitting on the bus gives me a few extra minutes to look at the paper, or scan my email, or catch the latest news - those meaningful distractions that make up a working day for most people which I am not privy to when I am riding a bicycle.

So I should tell stories about losing my keys on the bus, or how sometimes the other bus riders are rude, or how sometimes the bus or train feels like a little microcosm, how the bus is packed with school kids sometimes, drunks other times ... maybe something about the homeless people trying to live on the trains, or the business people trying to save gas money with their daily multi-modal commute. As far as I can tell, the larger an urban area is, and the more people it caters to, the closer it becomes to an ecological presence of its own volition, nearly alive in the cement and steel that guides sentience through it.

Since my foot injury in 2015, I have gotten a NiceRide membership and accrued over 1,000 station to station commutes. I can't really vouch for how far each one was or how fast; I can add in the 190 I made in 2013 and the 145 I made in 2012, but an exact number doesn't exist. The better discussion is probably focused more on my health and my overall well being, the money and carbon saved from utilizing that resource, and the congeniality of a non-profit organization who made an effort to accommodate my needs. For which I am thankful. Thanks NiceRide, you rock.

After moving to Minneapolis from Saint Paul I have slowly adjusted to my new kitchen, which is smaller and has its own idiosyncrasies. There have been a few decent bicycle rides since May, and time for fishing as well as continuing to volunteer while hoping for a reasonable outcome to my ongoing employment crisis.

I did lose my keys on the bus once, last year. They fell out of my bag on a Tuesday morning, and I didn't notice until 9:45 pm the same night. That was a long day.

The next day I took flowers to the lost and found window at Metro Transit, to thank the driver or rider who found them and turned them in, rather than making my life worse. It took some phone calls and the landlords were not enthusiastic about my emergency maintenance call, but once the keys were found, buying flowers was the least I could do.

Lake Harriet, Photo by Michael McKinney.

Mde Maka Ska, photo by Michael McKinney

Cedar Lake, photo by Michael McKinney

Minneapolis Greenway, photo by Michael McKinney

Late May, 2018

One of the most common questions people ask me when I first meet them, is: "What do you do?"

It would be nice to say it is strictly a Minnesota thing, but I really have not seen that much of Minnesota. I have lived in Stillwater, Saint Paul and Minneapolis all of my life. Maybe people in Embarrass don't ask that question because they are all freezing cold year round...I mean I know a little geography but if you sent me to Windom I would spend all of my time trying to find the Wind Farms, I probably wouldn't go out of my way to do brief employment surveys of my peers.

So, what do I do?

Since injuring my foot in 2015 I have tried to maintain a fairly compulsory rehabilitation schedule. There was a full time job, after college, which never paid much...there were a couple of full time jobs, actually. I delivered newspapers for a year. I worked in retail and the service industry. I worked for a small outdoor industry retailer specializing in rock climbing, cross country skiing and sea kayaking...it sounds too good to be true; what I have learned since 2010 tells me some of it was. I worked in arboriculture and bakeries as well, to limited success.

I sold my car in 2009, have moved five or six times, depending on your opinion of temporary housing, and have struggled to find full time employment that matched anything as reliable and equitable as something that now seems fictional. There is irony in there somewhere but I never put it together well enough to explain it.

Since moving to Saint Paul in 2010, I have volunteered at a number of different agencies that pertain to either my educational or professional experiences. I read as much as time allows, ride a bicycle and bake bread when doing so does not seem like more trouble than it is worth. Sometimes, I have to re-prioritze things in a way that values self-preservation over dedication.

In February and March of 2014 there was still so much snow on the roads I decided to ride less, because fighting traffic became too difficult. What happens is the more snow is plowed to the side of the road, the further out cars parking on the side of the road have to be - rather than being parked next to a curb, cars are parked three to four feet off the curb (on both sides of the street) because a big snow pile is there instead - so cars are pinched into both lanes and bicycles are less welcome.

Anyway, that was my experience. Die hard cyclists would provide much counter point here and I did see people riding that spring, as I walked onto the bus, stepping over snow piles four feet from the curb.

So what do I "do" though? 

Mostly I volunteer, and I try to remember that being employed again relies heavily on an equanimity sufficient enough to utilize whatever social and professional skills I have learned in a productive manner. Volunteering is often a great opportunity to test that sense of place without feeling like a failure will cost me my livelihood. And so it goes.

Anyway, I did participate in another #30DaysofBiking this April, and while I missed out on the handful of group rides occurring around the Twin Cities, I did manage to ride all thirty days, despite a massive blizzard, cold temperatures and a worn drivetrain that eventually will cost me some sad amount of money to replace. With a move to Minneapolis on March 30th of this year, I was hard pressed to get my rear in gear, but managed over 500 miles and a good day at the Fulton Fondo in May.

So for now that is what I have been doing.

My bicycle is at a shop, and I have been happily enjoying Minnesota NiceRide as a reliable adjunct to my commute. It would be nice to get back to feeling like the bicycle was something more essential in my day to day routine, but time will tell.

The fishing has been getting better, so that makes me happy.

Adieu, adieu, to you and you and you.

Dropping Cletus off in Minneapolis for repairs, Photo by Michael McKinney

Not even a bad pothole on Summit Avenue, Saint Paul. Photo by Michael McKinney

Sunset on Lake Harriet, Minneapolis, Photo by Michael McKinney

A snowy Organic Molecule on the U of M campus, Photo by Michael McKinney

Cletus surveying the Mde Maka Ska sunset, Photo by Michael McKinney

Minnesota #NiceRide in a blizzard, Greenway Bike Trail, Minneapolis. Photo by Michael McKinney

The day after, still on a NiceRide, Photo by Michael McKinney

Photo by Michael McKinney

An urban fox patrolling near Lake Harriet, Photo by Michael McKinney

Day 30 of #30daysofbiking, Photo by Michael McKinney

At the start of the 2018 Fulton Fondo, Photo by Michael McKinney

Definitely a new Personal Best...I released it quickly, Photo by anon

The new DIY bike storage space, Minneapolis, Photo by Michael McKinney

My incredulity after finishing the Fulton Fondo without dropping my rear cassette, Photo by Michael McKinney