Down in the valley

First day of Summer:

I rode about 35 km, mostly in the River Valley. On Mondays and Thursdays I stop in at my son and daughter-in-law's place in Callingwood to pick up and drop off Zoe's laundry. Of course, every time I go there, the cyclist in me wonders whether I should park in that area and ride to work from there. The big question is: what route would I take? 

I checked on Google maps and got a suggested route, so Hubby and I decided to check it out. He had to pick up our new vehicle from Derrick Dodge, and we were meeting Oldest Son downtown for lunch, so we drove in with the bikes in the back of the minivan, parked in Callingwood and started riding. Google maps told us to go to Wolf Willow, through the ravine to Patricia Heights and then north to the McKinnon Ravine. Well, we found a path into the ravine from Wolf Willow, but it was gravel and a very steep downhill, culminating in some stairs. Not good news for someone on a slick-tired commuter bike laden with panniers. We reluctantly turned around and took 170 Street to 87 Avenue, headed north on 159 Street, and met up with the 100 Avenue shared sidewalk. 

Not a route I want to take at rush hour every morning. Even at 10:30 a.m., 170 Street was busy and fast; I can just imagine what it's like at 7:30 a.m.

We rode through the River Valley to downtown, following my usual route -- up the Fortway Road and 107 Street hills. 
Hubby was pretty impressed that I tackle those climbs every morning. 
Just below the museum, we spotted a woodchuck, nibbling on the fresh green grass,

On Fortway Road, I was pleased to see paving trucks accompanied by workers filling in potholes. By the time next session begins on July 2, I should have a nice smooth ride.

Because we were meeting Oldest Son near Churchill Square, we took a route I've been curious about -- at the top of the 107 Street hill, there is a hard-beaten path that angles off to the right. Every morning as I continue straight on the road, I see cyclists head onto that path, and I feel sort of jealous. It looks so much more interesting than my on-street route. This was my chance. Turns out it meets up with an alley which leads to 99 Avenue at a nice quiet spot (at least it was quiet at 11 a.m.) From there, we took 104 Street north to 102 Avenue. Signs on 102 Avenue state that from 7 a.m. to 6 p.m. the right lane is for buses and bicycles (and right turns) only, but an awful lot of drivers seem to be sign-reading-challenged. Anyway, in spite of this, we made it safely to our destination. We stopped off at City Hall, where I picked up a couple of bicycle maps and found out about ESL tours. It was my first time there, and I was impressed. 

Leaving our bikes at the City Hall bike rack, we then walked across the street to Pazzo Pazzo for lunch. Hubby and Oldest Son had a ravioli dish, while I feasted on the broccoli salad. The food was good, but I thought the presentation was lacking. For $10 I got a big bowl of broccoli with a little twist of lemon on top. And I was disappointed after the meal when the server told us the cappucino machine was out of order. I mean, really -- at an Italian restaurant? Oh well, it was still fun.

After lunch we rode south over the High Level Bridge. Hubby and Oldest Son, who had the afternoon off, rode on to Derrick Dodge. I parted company with them at 76 Avenue and rode on the bike lane (blocked by semi-parked vehicles at no more than 3 or 4 places) to the multi-use trail that heads down to Fort Edmonton. And when I say down, I mean down -- twisting and turning as it descends. We have ridden on this path before, but it is still somewhat terrifying to meet hairpin curves, one after another. I rode very slowly down and then relaxed as I sailed through Whitemud Park -- 

  and past the Fort onto the beautiful Fort Edmonton Bridge --

 

The steep path in the background gives an idea of how far down in the valley I was!

Once across the bridge, I hesitated. I had checked the bicycle map, but still felt uncertain about which way to go. Fortunately, right in front of me was a young guy who had been running up and down the ravine, so I asked him how to get to Wolf Willow. He pointed left, up a steep gravel-surfaced hill. 

"But it's a massive hill," he warned me. Emphasis on massive. Hmm. I could imagine his thoughts: skinny woman about my mom's age, riding a refurbished mountain bike with slick tires and panniers -- she'll never make it up that hill.

"What if I go right?"

"There's a set of stairs. You'll come out near the community centre."  The community centre sounded good. The stairs, not so much.

"OK, thanks. I'll try the hill." He laughed. A friendly laugh, to be sure, but still a laugh.

My only regret was that the kid couldn't see the middle-aged lady on the hill. It wasn't bad at all. Steep, yes. Long, yes, Gravel, yes. But nothing out of the ordinary. I wasn't even out of breath at the top. 

From there, it was a bit of a long and winding road out of the Wolf Willow community, but I finally reached 69 Avenue and then my parking spot. 

Even the parking spot is pretty.