Pond Life

 

American avocet

Spring means the return of ducks and geese to the local ponds. Today, along with the ubiquitous mallards and Canada geese, we saw an American avocet and a pair of Northern Shovelers.

Northern Shoveler

Riding near Castor

Never heard of Castor, Alberta? Me either, until a short while ago. Turns out it is a charming small town halfway between Macklin, Sask., and Red Deer.

A couple of weeks ago, Oldest Son wanted to ride from Macklin to Castor, so I decided to join him for part of the ride. I rode about 65 km before I felt too saddle-sore to continue. He is like the Energizer Bunny; he keeps going and going, but I find I need a break after about 60 K.

Hubby and I drove down to Castor on Friday evening and with a minimum of difficulty found the campground. It is right on the highway, but shielded by a row of trees and there is no sign, so we missed the turn the first time around.

After selecting our campsite, Hubby told me I should disappear for an hour or so. Why? He likes me to believe that setting up the tent trailer is a breeze, so if I am not around while he does it I will never know the truth. Something like that.

So I took out my Dahon Vitesse folding bike and went for a ride. The campground is situated south of the highway, so I started my tour of the town on the same side. The town soon ran out, however, and I ended up on a gravel country road.

 Curious to know how the 20" wheels on the folding bike would handle the gravel, I decided to forge ahead. It was just fine. I rode a kilometer or so along this road, before deciding it was a bit boring and turning around. I did manage to nicely spook some cattle that were grazing along the road. They were not concerned about the truck that went past, but when I came along, they took off.

Leaving this area behind, I crossed the highway and entered the main part of town. I was greeted by a sign with a beaver on it, and right next to it, the beaver itself.

I began by riding straight north, through the town and into the countryside. Here it was peaceful and quite beautiful, with gently rolling hills and patches of gold and green.

But I soon hit gravel again, and although I had proven that the Vitesse was up for the challenge, I definitely prefer smooth riding, so I turned around and headed into the town, which as I said before, is totally charming. One of the most charming sights to me -- bikes standing, unlocked, in many of the front yards. I didn't see anyone actually riding, but clearly people do ride, and not only that, they don't fear their bikes being stolen.

I rode past the historical hospital site, Our Lady of the Rosary, built in 1911, still in use as a continuing care centre.

 

And of course, there's the Cosmopolitan Hotel and the obligatory small prairie town Chinese restaurant, the Shangri-La.

And I love what they've done with the old Roman aqueduct.

Kidding aside, it really is a lovely little town. 

On Saturday, after a somewhat noisy night, we set off for Macklin, about 1 1/2 hr drive east. Incidentally, it is home to a giant bone, a symbol of the game of Bunnock, which was introduced to Canada by Russian/German immigrants. We saw the bone -- definitely over-rated!

Once there, we hopped on our bikes and rode west. It was a good ride -- lots of rolling hills and pretty scenery. 

 

High points - literal and figurative

Riding up a hill in Sturgeon County and feeling on top of the world...

Riding to the library to drop off some books and seeing a full bike rack...

riding near Nordegg

 On August 12, together with my oldest son, I rode from Nordegg to Cline River. It was a perfect day - hot but cloudy enough that the sun wasn't too intense. I tried out my sunblock sleeves, a new purchase from MEC, and they did the trick in preventing sunburn.

I rode my MEC Mixed Tape bike -- 7-speed internal hub, and was quite impressed with how well it handled the hills. 

I actually began the day by riding about 30 km from our home to Highway 770 in the morning. Hubby picked me up and we drove down to the Goldeye Campground where we met Oldest Son.

Not only was it cloudy, but it was also hazy with smoke from a distant fire or two (yes, I am totally giving away my age!) When I got home and looked at the photos I'd taken, I was surprised at how much the smoke covered the mountains.

Lake Abraham is beautiful. Because it was a hot day, there were lots of people enjoying the cool water, but it is still so unspoiled and peaceful.

As we were riding, a male deer came out onto the road right in front of us. I wanted to get a pic, but someone drove by and honked to scare the deer away. This bear, however, was cooperative and didn't move! I wondered if the hat was all that remained of his latest victim.

our stopping point - the David Thompson Resort

This was the end of our ride -- the David Thompson Resort. I'm afraid Thompson's rest might be less than peaceful if he knows that this place is named after him, but maybe the fact that he is remembered is enough?

Be careful with that camera!

In which the poor hare pictured above almost lands me in it.

On my way to work, I saw a bunny behind the fence nibbling on grass and looking pretty adorable. I stopped my bike and took a photo. I did notice that there was a police officer in an unmarked SUV stopped nearby, and he seemed to be eyeing me suspiciously. But I thought I was probably imagining it, so I blithely rode east on 100 Avenue, enjoying the sunshine and balmy temperature.

Crossing 149 Street, I entered the Crestwood neighbourhood and rode towards the little bridge that traverses the ravine. Just as I approached the bridge, a marked EPS SUV drove along the road and honked. At me? Surely not, I thought. There was a guy sitting on the bench, possibly loitering, and I thought maybe the honk was intended for him. Anyway, I told myself, if they are after me, they will come around onto Stony Plain road and find me. 

Ha ha ha, right?

Wrong. Next thing I knew, as I was proceeding west on Stony Plain Road, the marked SUV drove across my path, effectively cutting me off. So, of course I stopped. Two brawny EPS constables debarked and one of them said, "Would you mind stepping off your bike?"

(As if I were planning to use the bike as a getaway vehicle, or perhaps a weapon!)

"What's going on?" I asked, as I obeyed his instructions.

"What's your name, Ma'am?"

Remembering my rights, I demurred. "What's this about?" 

"Do you have ID on you?"

"What's going on?"

Finally he coughed up: "We had a report that a female cyclist was taking photos of police vehicles." 

(Um, yes, the rabbit mentioned above was behind a fence at the police station.)

I'm afraid I laughed. "No," I assured him. "I was taking a picture of a rabbit."

"Rabbits are OK," he said and asked me to show him the photo. I complied. "You can go," he said. "Have a good ride."

As I started on my way again, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the police officer I had seen earlier, in the unmarked SUV, was driving alongside. Apparently he had also been in hot pursuit of the female cyclist. 

I've told a few people about this experience, and everyone has the same reaction: 

What the #@$+^ would be wrong with taking photos of police vehicles??  After all, if I had a GoPro mounted on my bike or a dashcam in the car, I might film a few police cars here and there as I went about my business...

A few theories have been proposed: 1) They thought I was Middle Eastern (when I lived in Turkey, I was often mistaken for a Turk) and hired by a certain organization to take photos which would be used for nefarious purposes. 2) They thought I was a nice-looking woman and wanted to check me out. If so, I hope they were really disappointed when they got a close-up view and realized I was probably old enough to be their mom. 3) They are simply not the brightest bulbs in the EPS chandelier. 

a hare-owing experience

It has been a while since I last posted. The winter just ended was so mild and the riding was so (relatively) easy that there was not a lot to brag or complain about! Thus ends my 5th year of winter bicycle commuting.

And now... it is spring! The grass is greener every day, and every morning on my way to work I see at least one jack rabbit?... snowshoe hare?  I have been told authoritatively by various people that they are one or the other, so I'm not sure which, but to merge accuracy and simplicity, I will henceforth refer to the creatures as "hares."

I love seeing these animals! It thrills me to know that a not particularly intelligent wild animal has figured out how to co-exist with people in a big city. I have actually seen a hare stop and look both ways before crossing a busy street!

At this time of year, these bunnies are not exactly Easter-card perfect in appearance. Their pristine white winter coats have given way to a patchwork of greyish-brown and a sort of dirty yellowish-white. Even so, they are as cheerful and adventurous and delightful as ever.

But on Thursday morning I had a less than pleasant encounter with a hare.  I was riding along the shared pathway on 100th Avenue when I spooked a hare that had been lurking in the bushes. It jumped out onto the pathway, panicked when it saw my bike (even though I slowed down dramatically to allow it to get out of the way) and ran into the road, where it immediately got hit by a car. 

It was horrible and much more disturbing than I could have imagined. I went through the day knowing I had been an unwitting accessory to murder.

winter winding down?

Now that it's the middle of February, I think we can safely that winter is winding down.

It doesn't always seem that way; during the last two weeks we have had two snowfalls of more than 10 cm each. One was on Thursday the 5th, and there was ample warning, so I parked in Glenora and walked to work, down through the ravine and up Victoria Park hill. It was a beautiful start to the day -- not too cold and so pretty. 

It snowed all day, making the trek home an adventure. About halfway down Victoria Park hill, all of a sudden there were no more footprints. Mine were the first. And the snow was deep. I trudged along, feeling like I was never going to make it to the bottom. Down in the ravine, the situation was the same -- no other prints. Actually, there was one tire track -- yes, someone had ridden a bike down there, and not a fat bike either. Visibility was limited and I almost missed the point where I had to turn right and head uphill back to my car. This was one time I was very thankful not to have to go to work on Friday!

The next big snowfall was last Friday night. I looked at the weather forecast before going to bed and saw that we were due for 2-4 cm of snow. Woke up the next day to see about 10-15 cm. It was nice that it happened on the weekend; I didn't have to drive anywhere and didn't even ride my bike. I did go out walking, ploughing my way through the deep snow and sloshing through puddles and slush. Today is colder and again it's snowing, but I still maintain that winter is on its way out.

back to work

I've had a bit of a rocky start this session. The first Monday, January 5th, I drove because I had 3 large bags of books and other stuff I wanted to bring with me. The load included some books I had  borrowed almost 3 years ago, so I thought it was time to bring them back! That day also happened to be really cold -- maybe -35C with windchill -0- but even so I was frustrated at being behind the wheel. It took me almost 90 minutes to drive the 30 km from home to downtown, a combined result of snowy, icy roads and the detour for the bridge construction on 102 Avenue. 

The next day I was happy to be back on the bike. However, it had snowed a fair bit and I wasn't sure about trail conditions, so I decided to try something new. I parked in Glenora and rode from there. I took Stony Plain Road and the bike trail that runs behind Original Joes, ending up on the contra-flow bike lane and 100 Avenue. It wasn't bad, but when I came back to the car after work, I noticed that there is an entrance to the trail system just up the street from the place I had parked. Just as I took that in I was hailed by a guy who came out of one of the houses; he asked whether I was lost. I replied in the negative, telling him that I had parked there and ridden downtown. "You're good!" was his response, and he then went on to tell me about the entrance to the trail system, adding that the city is good about clearing the trails. 

So, on Wednesday I parked there again and rode down down down into the River Valley. It was pretty scary -- riding in the dark on a new, very steep trail, with a deep ravine on my right and no guardrail (and on top of it all, I'd forgotten my phone), but I made it to the bottom safe and sound, and from there it was but a short ride to the Faraone Park trail crosswalk. In all it was a much shorter ride than my usual 8.6 km, but it was fun to try something new, and it's good to know that on really cold days I have that option. On Thursday I took my usual route and arrived at work cold but happy.

Well, then the next Monday, January 12th, I arrived at my parking spot only to discover that I'd forgotten my helmet. I briefly considered bare-headed riding, but it was -24 C and I was afraid I'd arrive at work with no ears. I didn't have a hat in the car. I was rather annoyed with myself, but decided to simply be thankful that I am allowed to park for free as long as it is only occasionally, and I drove. These two days of driving have made me more thankful than ever that I can ride my bike, and I stuck a spare helmet (along with a hat, extra gloves, and a scarf) in the car so that I will never find myself in that situation again!

The weather warmed up dramatically for the rest of the week, so I enjoyed 3 days of absolutely delightful bicycle commutes through MacKinnon Ravine and the River Valley. The trails are ploughed and smooth, and I even had a couple of dog-walkers whom I pass every morning tell me that they are impressed with me! There is also a friendly guy who walks along the Railtown Trail and gives me a big smile whenever he sees me. Little things like this contribute to a great start to the workday! 

This graphic, spotted on Twitter, says it all!

why i ride

Time for another "why I ride" post.

Almost every morning as I ride along the shared pathway on 100 Avenue, I see a woman with a stroller. We always say good morning to one another, and she has a lovely smile. I had never really looked at the stroller before, but I naturally assumed it contained a baby. Today, however, I saw her in the morning and then again after work, and both times the stroller held nothing but a purse. A large purse, to be sure, but not so big that it would be easier to push it around in a stroller instead of carry it. So now I find myself wondering -- is there ever a baby in that stroller? Do I just happen to see her after she has dropped the baby off somewhere and before she picks it up? Or does she really walk on the snow-covered trail pushing her purse in a stroller? Tomorrow I will look more closely and try to solve the mystery.

To add to today's excitement, as I rode cautiously downhill into McKinnon Ravine, something noisy and big came out of the bushes on my right. Startled, I looked in that direction and saw a hawk, holding a rabbit in its claws. I have to confess that I screamed. The hawk must have been equally surprised, because it dropped the rabbit beside the trail and flew across the path -- right in front of me. It looked huge and scary, and I had a fleeting moment of fear that perhaps a 58-kilo woman would not be too large to be tempting prey. But my fears were groundless, as it simply flew past, leaving me to continue my ride.

I was pleased to see, upon reaching the trail that leads to Ezio Faraone Park, that a city maintenance machine had gone before me, leaving bands of sand crisscrossing the path. It wasn't exactly icy, so the sand was possibly a bit superfluous, but it was good to see that the well-being of us active types -- cyclists, walkers and runners -- was being taken into consideration.

All these little things added up to make today's ride pretty awesome, and once again I felt thankful that I can use this method of getting to work, instead of driving or sitting on the bus.

And it didn't hurt that it was a warmish day, starting out at about -7, and ending at an unbelievable +11. Lots of melting going on. Tomorrow is supposed to be warm again, so I am enjoying it while it lasts.

reasons to love october

This year, October has been a month to love. Warm temperatures -- generally in the double-digits. Crisp clear mornings. Starry nights.

A great time to bicycle commute!

Last Thursday morning there was the most incredible fog. It was kind of creepy in the river valley. I felt like the only person in the world. But I had to stop anyway to take a few photos.

 

While I was stopped, another bicycle commuter rode past with a friendly smile and a cheerful "good morning." I was glad to keep him in sight the rest of the way.

I had to stop again on my way up to Ezio Faraone Park -- the view was amazing.

And another stop once I reached the top:

October mornings

 On the way to work...

 

 a yellow tamarack tree

 a glowing moon

a golden hillside

crunch crunch

Hubby always thinks it's funny that I like to make a lot of noise crunching through the fallen leaves.

path near Royal Glenora

I tell him it's because I grew up on the bald prairie of Southern Saskatchewan where we didn't really have trees or fallen leaves. They are still a bit of a novelty to me. Turns out I like crunching through the leaves on my bike, too.

Because of my hand I haven't done a lot of long-distance riding this fall. But last Friday I rode into Southgate so I could go to the optometrist and order new glasses. I rode along 16A, down Winterburn to 87 Avenue, into Callingwood, Westridge and Rio Terrace, and then across Quesnel Bridge to Fox Drive. It was a perfect day -- about 20 degrees, a light breeze and plenty of sunshine. 

And what a thrill to arrive at the mall and see a full bike rack! Of course, I was glad there was room for me to lock up my bike, but how cool that so many people are riding.

ravine hill

 

down to Devon by bike

Devon is Bike Town. It's not far from here, but sometimes seems like another world. It's a small town and according to my sons, there's nothing to do there -- or so say the Devon young people.

But they do have the River and apparently some excellent bike trails. I've never actually ridden IN Devon, just TO Devon via the Range Roads and Township Roads south of here.

Since the wind was from the southeast yesterday morning, I decided it was the perfect day to ride to Devon -- I'd ride against the wind all the way down and with a tailwind coming home. And so it was.

I rode past my friend the white donkey, past some miniature horses and a flock of goats. The acreages are definitely more interesting down this way.

 I also saw a sign that I feel sure belongs to a friend of Piglet's uncle, Trespassers Will. This sign read: "No ....sing." Short, perhaps, for "No singing"?

The ride is fairly flat -- just some small ups and downs -- until Highway 60 where one finds The Big Hill. Riding south it's down first and then up. Against the wind. It was a decent climb.

Once at the top, I decided to go into the town and see if I could find the bike shop I've read about. I didn't see it, but I did notice that the lampposts are garnished with banners featuring cyclists of all ages, urging onlookers to "enjoy the ride." Cool!

After a brief stop, under this banner, for a drink of water, it was time to turn around and go back.

Downhill first this time. And this was downright scary. The shoulder was full of gravel which seemed to have washed across the road in last Friday's rain storm. There were mounds of gravel as well as a thin layer over the entire shoulder. I rode slowly, braking the entire time. Because of the gravel I couldn't see the rumble strips and ended up bouncing along on those for a few meters, shaking my bike and my entire body. Coming off the rumble strips, I encountered piles of gravel and nervously applied the brakes, trying to keep control. I managed all right, but it was definitely not the fun downward sail a big hill like that should be. And to top it off when I reached the bottom, it felt like something was wrong with my back tire. I stopped to check it out. It was fine; it must have just been the gravel underneath that made it feel sluggish. But when I started off again, I discovered I couldn't clip into my pedal. When I stepped off into the gravel/sand mix, apparently I clogged up the cleat. So I had to stop again and poke around to dislodge the little bits that were stuck. Finally back in the saddle, it was a surprisingly easy climb up to the top and I was on the way home.

As I had expected, I had a nice tailwind and it was a fast ride. I did have to stop at one point when I saw a coyote standing on the road in front of me. It stood and stared for a good minute before ambling off into the bush. I am always afraid to get too close, but took a photo from a distance.

By the time I got home, the temperature was about 26 degrees with a humidex of 30, so I was not sorry to hit the shower. It was a good ride -- 66 km and even with the constant braking on the downhill and the headwind for the first 33 km, I increased my average speed by 0.1 km/hour.

Roller Coaster Road

Today was one of those days when I have trouble getting motivated to ride. It started out cool and windy, whereas I like warm and calm. And I have a lot of work to do around the house. But I finally set out at about 11:30, riding north -- against the wind. When I reached the top of the second hill, I took a little jaunt east, because I saw there was new pavement on the road. I wondered if maybe it had been paved all the way to some other paved road. But no, the pavement ended, superseded by the ubiquitous gravel, so I made a U-turn in one of the subdivisions and rode west to Roller Coaster Road. 

Just before the turn, I heard a loud squawking type of noise and looked up to see a hawk flying overhead, holding a fish in its claws. It flew around a bit, showing off its prowess as a hunter, before disappearing, presumably to enjoy a good meal.

Shortly after this, I turned onto Roller Coaster Road, one of my favourite spots. This road must be one of the county's best kept secrets; only once have I seen another cyclist on it. I have, however, seen deer and a fox. Today as I was labouring up one of the short steep hills, battling a head wind along with the sharp incline, I spotted something out of the corner of my eye. Standing as still as a statue in the ditch, there was a deer, staring directly at me. It watched as I rode past. I was a little slow to react, but once I'd passed it, I realized I should try to get a photo. So I clipped out of the pedal, cringing at the unavoidable metal-on-metal sound. The deer didn't move. I very gently put my bike down on the ground and began to step gingerly toward it, but it bolted, stopping for a second or two once it reached denser foliage before taking off out of sight into the woods. Of course I was sorry I didn't get a photo, but still grateful to have had the chance to see it.

On I climbed to the top of this series of hills, after which I turned around and sailed down. And I do mean sailed. With the wind on my back, I hit 52.7 km/hour.

I decided to return to town by riding down this road to the service road, and it was a pleasure to have the wind on my back as I rode south on Jennifer Heil. 

It wasn't a long ride -- only about 36 km -- but it was definitely a good one, and I am happy to have three days of riding ahead of me this long weekend.

seen on the dog walk

 Sometimes the dog walk is just a walk. Other times, it's a magical experience.

 The city has built a couple of new ponds right near our house, so we like to take Maggie down there. Both ponds are home to families of loons, muskrats and of course geese.

 I experimented with the low light setting on my camera, with tolerable results.