Sorry about the late post… Ever since my ride on Saturday my dad has been on my case to write about it. He doesn’t even want to hear me talk about it… he just wants to read about it on my blog.
Well here it is:
I participated in the High Trestle Trail Grand Celebration Saturday. It was a bike ride between Woodward and Ankeny on the new trail out there. The trail includes the 13-story high bridge over the Des Moines River. Back in 1912 the bridge was a railroad trestle.
Beside the book ends of Woodward and Ankeny, there were stops in Madrid, Sheldahl, Slater and the oasis between Sheldahl and Ankeny. Each town had something special going on Saturday, and the whole community seemed to be participating.
I started the ride in Woodward. I got there early and parked along the main street. Some Boy Scouts were tending to a fire. There were some guys in Civil War garb… The obligatory church pancake breakfast down the street was hoppin’. I wandered over to the ribbon cutting just as the national anthem was playing and those Boy Scouts were raising the flags. Miss Iowa USA snipped the ribbon and we were on our way.
I knew I had to work in the afternoon, so I got a good jump. I was surprised that my bike calculator said I was riding at about 20 mph. I was feeling great and passing everyone. The first stop was right before the bridge. I said hello to a few friendly faces and got on the bridge.
It didn’t feel like I was on a bridge so high above the water. The bridge is a really solid, comfortable ride. Not too many people had stopped yet to check out the views, so I kept moving.
Madrid had some food stands set up, but it wasn’t even 11 yet, so I just made a once-around of the main strip. I picked up some free snacks (I’m a sucker for free… and snacks) and got back on the trail.
Slater was the next stop. Just as I turned off the trail I saw some familiar faces. Jared and Ron from Skunk River had set up shop on the wrong side of the “no alcohol beyond this point” fence and were helping riders who were having some mechanical problems.
I said a quick hello and headed for the party. I got my “sooner or later you’ll ride through Slater” button, grabbed a burger and an adult beverage and enjoyed the live music for a bit. When I was good and full, I wandered back over to the Skunk River tabernacle to chat with the guys. I quickly realized they didn’t have any pina colada Dum Dums and they weren’t sharing their doughnuts, so I hit the road. I was going to turn around and head back to Woodward, but Jared convinced me that Sheldahl was where it was at. And just another two miles down the road.
Sheldahl was a good call. (Put that on a button). Homemade ice cream and Rice Krispy treats (childhood favorite). Back on the road, I knew I had to get back quick so I could make it back to Des Moines for work.
Once I turned around, I quickly realized that 20 mph on the way there wasn’t just my amazing quads doing what they do best… I had a little help from a tail wind. The 15 miles back were a struggle against the wind. I was lucky to keep moving when I tried to coast. I had made a classic mistake by pushing it hard on the way out, and not considering the trip back.
I stopped in every town praying for a Gatorade… or a four wheeler who would agree to pull me along behind him. Between Slater and Madrid I hooked up with a bagger that was pulling along a stereo and jammed out to some ACDC. (Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap always gets my blood pumping.)
Finally back to the bridge I knew I only had a few short miles to go. I pulled over to gather myself and pop in my earphones, took one last look over the bridge and took off for Woodward.
Once back in town, I scanned the area for a Gatorade… None to be seen, so I loaded my bike on the back of the jeep, packed up and headed for the highway.
I stopped at a Casey’s on the outskirts of town for a Gatorade (finally) and a doughnut (it’s a training tradition). I got stuck behind someone who was doing their grocery shopping at Casey’s, and then a lady who was paying for an ice cream cone in pennies… Finally out of there I hit the road and called my mom to tell her about my 30 mile journey. She likes to hear about it before I put it in my blog…
For photos of the ride, click here.
my bike. I’ve been trying to break in my Brooks leather saddle for a while now; I always forget to use the conditioner on it. So I slathered that on and set off on the path.
As I rode through the woods I quickly realized I was headed in the right direction. A little head wind and a slow rolling (bumpy) climb meant I would be in for a treat on the way home. I stopped to take a few scenic pictures and unabashedly sang along to my classic rock Pandora station, something I don’t feel comfortable doing when I’m saying, “on your left” every quarter mile.
… Casey’s. When I was younger, my parents would coax me on long rides with the promise of a sprinkled doughnut halfway through. Ever since, I can’t turn down a Casey’s stop after a long ride. I saw that brick building and flipped the turning signal… Quick.
