Iowa, High Trestle Trail

Prairie States Trip -- Day 5

Today I'm just outside Des Moines to ride the High Trestle Trail.  My route begins at a parking lot in Ankeny, IA.  The paved path is busy with joggers, walkers, and strollers as is any suburban bike path on a nice summer day.  After a few miles the crowd thins out and the buildings give way to Iowa farm fields.  

Straight, paved and flat

UFO sighting in Sheldahl, IA!

At night the High Trestle Bridge's "frames" light up,
illuminating the bridge in a ghostly blue.

Kayaker paddling the Des Moines River

Trail crew

#HighTrestleTrailBridge

Route

After the ride, I take a power nap under a bush next to the parking lot in preparation for the 5-hour drive back home.  While I was disappointed by the Upper Buffalo mountain biking, the rest of trip was above expectations and the High Trestle Bridge was an excellent finish to a sweet biking trip.

State:	Iowa
Date:	2016-08-31
Route:	High Trestle Trail, Ankeny to Woodward
Distance:	60 miles

Kansas, Prairie Spirit Trail, Learning to drive

Prairie States Trip -- Day 4 

Conveniently, the bike trail runs right in front of the hotel.  After a quick breakfast, I'm on the trail headed north.  A rural rails-to-trails, I am pleasantly surprised with the nicely shaded limestone trail.  Very quiet on a week day, the miles fly by.

Much of the limestone trail is nicely shaded

Is it worth a 5-hour drive?  Perhaps not, but I mind don't driving.  Working out of the house these past years, I like driving.  I've liked driving ever since my first job at the Northwest Auto Wash.  In fact, that's where I learned to drive back in 1976...

---

A faint mist rose off the wet rollers as they trundled down the car conveyor.  The many apparatuses of the car wash burst to life.  Humming, squeaking, and rattling in anticipation of the cars that would soon be arriving.  Around the garage entrance stood the crew of high school boys waiting for their work assignments.  Groggy on an early Saturday morning, they quietly conserve their energy for the 10 hours of work ahead.

“A thousand-car Saturday, shit!” said Stevie.

“A thousand what?” I asked.

“A thousand-car Saturday.  I bet we wash a thousand cars today.  Look at the line already.” explained Stevie, pointing at the cars lined up from the entrance, across the lot and now queuing in the right lane.  “This is gonna suck.”

Prairie Spirit Trail, Welda Trailhead

My first job and my second week of work at the car wash, I was still getting used to the grind of a workday.  As I gazed at the line of cars thinking “that’s one hundred cars per hour – more than one per minute!” the interior garage door burst open and in stalked the manager, Big Danny.  Big Danny wasn’t very big actually -- his name was derived to differentiate him from the assistant manager Little Danny.  He always seemed to be leaning forward as he walked.  Big or little, when he barked out orders, we didn't ask questions, we jumped.

“You two, blowers.  You, mats and towels.  You, rear and passenger-side windows. You, driver-side windows.” Big Danny said, delegating the jobs to the crew.  Big Danny never referred to us by our names.  We were pretty sure he didn’t know our names.  With the high turnover of employees, why would he bother. “And you,” pointing to me, “drive out.”

Up until this point, I had only performed the simpler jobs, wiping the car dry after it went through the blowers or washing interior windows.  “Gee, I must be doing something right,” I thought as Big Danny had just assigned me the prime job of driving out.  My feeling of achievement was tempered by one thing though, I didn’t know how to drive.  As a 16-year-old, I was old enough to work and old enough to drive, but I was a victim of the school district’s Drivers Education schedule.  It wasn’t offered until spring semester, so here I was working at a car wash having never driven a car.  My only relevant experience consisted of the many hours I spent driving go-carts at an amusement park in Door County.  

I had gleaned the "drive out" procedure by observing my co-workers from the back seat.  Step 1, get in.  Step 2, start the engine.  Step 3, spray the interior windows with cleaner.  Step 4, wash the windshield.  Step 5, when the car gets to the end of the conveyor, put the car in drive.  Step 6, pull out into the parking lot and make a quick right turn.  Step 7, put the car in park.  Step 8, jump out and run to the next car before it rolls off the conveyor.  Repeat.

With the sequence in mind, I waited nervously as the first car emerged from the spinning blur of red and white brushes.  The blowers screamed as they scattered the water droplets from the car.  I waited until the door was clear and got in.  Stevie hopped in the back seat.  Carefully, I turned the key.  I knew enough not to turn the key too long and thankfully I could feel the engine turn over.  OK, spray the windows.  Now, wash the windshield.  So far, so good.

The trail between Welda and Garnett is particularly nice

At the end of the conveyor, I carefully put the car in drive and then, as my extensive go-cart driving had taught me, I floored it.  A 5-HP go-cart engine is pretty sluggish unless you really give it some gas.  A full-size 4-door sedan with wet tires responds quite differently.  With both rear tires squealing, I was halfway across the parking lot before I knew it.  Quickly, I applied the brakes, again using my go-cart pedal technique.  Screeeeech!  The car slid to a halt.  Poor Stevie, careened off the seat back and into the footwell with a grunt.

Lake Garnett Park, The Perfect Spot for Lunch!

After a moment of stunned silence, I collected myself and apologized to Stevie’s feet. The driver’s side door ripped open and there was Big Danny.  He was definitely leaning forward.

“Jesus Christ, don’t you know how to drive?” he spat.

“I don’t,” I admitted.

“Get out of the car!”  Big Danny glanced at Stevie staggering out of the rear door.  “You drive out!”

I stood still, clutching the spray bottle and rag, waiting to be fired.  Big Danny looked back at me, “Rear and passenger-side windows!” he said as he stomped off.  “Surrounded by a bunch of virgins. Jesus Christ!”

Prairie Spirit Trail Route

The good thing about Big Danny was that not only didn’t he remember names, after a while he couldn’t remember who messed up, so three weeks later, Saturday morning, “You, blowers.  You, mats and towels. You, rear-window.” And he points to me, “You drive out.”  This time I was ready.  I carefully turned the key, washed the windshield and slowly eased the car out to the parking lot.  Hey, I can do this.

By the time I took Driver’s Ed months later, I was an absolute expert with right turns at under 5 MPH.  And I was pretty good with a stick-shift too -- as long as I never had to leave first gear.

---

Next stop, Iowa!

State:	Kansas
Date:	2016-08-30
Route:	Prairie Spirit Trail, Iola (America's Best Value Inn parking lot) to Garnett City Park
Distance:	60 miles

Oklahoma, Talimena Scenic Drive

Prairie States Trip -- Day 3

From the Upper Buffalo Wilderness, it's a short 3-hour drive to Oklahoma.  While Oklahoma evokes visions of endless prairie, the eastern end is surprisingly mountainous.  Here, the Ouachita Mountains and Ouachita National Forest poke into Oklahoma.  Tonight my destination is Cedar Lake Recreation Site in the heart of the forest.  A nice campground on the shore of a pretty lake with decent showers and, best of all, the campsites are free.

Cedar Lake Recreation Area, Free camping w/showers

In the morning, I drive to the Talimena Scenic Drive which runs between its namesakes: Mena, AK and Telihina, OK.  The distance from the eastern visitors center to the western visitors center is 60 miles with a 5,000 foot climb and descent.  The well-paved two-lane road climbs and falls with along the spine of the Winding Stair Mountains and has absolutely no shoulder.

Shawnee Outlook

I'm not ready to tackle a mile climb, so I drive up to the first pull out to start my ride, the Shawnee Lookout.  The 180-degree view of the mist-covered hills in the morning sun is absolutely stunning. 
   

Note the climb ahead!

The lack of a shoulder is not an issue as, aside from a forest service truck, no vehicles pass me for first 45 minutes.  Even with the elevation head start, I can't avoid the Talimena's climbs.  Soon I am forced to my lowest gear and a serpentine ascent.  

I'm not the only rider today, two road bikers whiz by downhill as I slowly work up an ascent.  Later when I return to the van, I see one of the riders on his return route looking strong.  A few minutes later, the second biker pulls up to the van as I am loading my bike.  He's not looking strong.

"Hey man, do you have any extra water?" he asks.  It was by now mid-afternoon and pretty hot in the full sun.

"Yea, sure, of course.  I filled up at the campground so it has a bit of an aftertaste,"  I said as offered a spare water bottle.

"Oh, that's OK.  Thanks a lot!" he said as I poured my bottle into his.

This guy still had a couple hours to ride.  Out of water and with no place on the drive to refill, he was lucky to meet me.

"No problem, have a good ride."

Panoramic Vista

When folks ask me about my favorite Frizbo Fifty bike rides, I always include the Talimena.  The physical route itself is epic offering miles of rolling ridge line punctuated by intimidating climbs and exhilarating descents.  Furthermore, the view is spectacular.  But the fact that it's Oklahoma makes it something really noteworthy -- a hidden gem.   If you get anywhere near here -- ride it -- you won't forget it.

Talimena Scenic Drive Route

I drive out of the mountains down to Talihina.  The heat of the Oklahoma plains hits me like a sledge hammer.     

Down in the Oklahoma prairie, the afternoon temperature spikes

Next stop, Iola, Kansas, a 5-hour drive.  As I pass through Eufaula, OK, I see a bank sign announcing a three-digit temperature.  A quick check of Google Maps shows lake-front park.  Still sticky from the long ride, I pull off to see if I can jump in the lake.  A modest beach by the Eufaula Cove Marina provides me a quick swim and respite from the heat.  Late in the evening, I arrive at the America's Best Value Inn in Iola.

(Add story about construction workers grilling on their tailgate.)

State:	Oklahoma
Date:	2016-08-29
Route:	Talimena Scenic Drive (Shawnee Outlook to Panoramic Vista)
Distance:	25 miles, 2,850 ft. +/-

Arkansas, Upper Buffalo Wilderness, an IMBA Epic Ride

Prairie States Trip -- Day 1 & 2

Today begins a multi-day biking trip through Arkansas, Oklahoma, Kansas and Iowa.  The first official stop is Arkansas, but as I am driving right by the Katy Trail, I stop for a quickie to stretch my legs.  I have just enough time to park at the Busch Greenway Trail Head, ride to the I-40 Bridge and then west to MM 58 and back (20 miles).

Closed access to the Katy Trail

Some anti-biking bureaucrat has closed access to the Katy Trail just because some of the bridge's spans were washed out in a flood.  What nonsense!  I never respect such closures as officials are too motivated to close bikes trails at the slightest hint of risk.  Furthermore, they'll barricade a mile of trail, when the washout is only ten feet wide. 99% of the time an able-bodied biker is able to easily navigate the short disruption and continue on their way.  The hardest obstacle of today's disruption is climbing the  barrier.  The washed out span barely required a dismount. 

I-40 Bridge over Missouri River

My destination is the mountain biking trails of the Upper Buffalo Wilderness.  Designated an "Epic Ride" by the International Mountain Bikers Association (IMBA), I am really jacked to test myself on these trails. 

Arkansas Dawn

The Buffalo River is also a popular canoeing river

After wandering around local roads, I park at the Dahl Memorial Trailhead in the wilderness on head out on a forest road towards the mountain bike trails.

Forest Road 1463

I link up with the Knucklehead Trail (near Nuckles Creek) and start climbing into the Ozark mountains.  The trail is not exactly what I was expecting for an IMBA Epic Ride.  It's obvious this bit of trail is rarely ridden as it's overgrown, littered with small branches and blocked by larger tree limbs.

Not only am I slowed by the frequent blow downs, but I am distracted by the frequent spider webs hanging across the trail -- they are quite big and sticky.  As most hikers know, the first person blazing a trail each day will have the pleasure of breaking through a few webs.  These aren't errant threads though, but full webs centered eye-level in the middle of the trail with a large Arkansas spider sitting dead-center.  I'm finding it hard to ride the trail, peel the web off my sunglasses while wondering where the hell that pissed-off spider ended up.

Spiders waiting for their prey -- me!

I have to give credit to the local club for posting maps at trail intersections, but  I get lost anyway, climbing up a one-way downhill run.  I get my ass kicked.    

Trail-side map -- the butterfly is pointing to my current location (not)

By the time I reach the fire tower, my legs are cramping and my brakes are shot.  Chagrined, I ride the forest road back (aka a green trail) to my van.

Arkansas hardwood forest (Dahl Memorial Trailhead)

On the way I meet some locals out for an after-church Sunday drive.  The road is so rugged I easily keep up with their four-wheel drive pickup.  Arkansas forest roads are not for the faint of heart.

Upper Buffalo Wilderness Route

Next stop is Oklahoma!

State:	Arkansas
Date:	2016-08-28
Route:	Upper Buffalo MTB Trails and forest roads, Dahl Memorial Trailhead to Fire tower
Distance:	20 miles, 1,900 ft +/-

Georgia, Silver Comet Trail, Kayaks and Alligators

Spring Break Road Trip -- Day 6

A multi-day front of heavy rains and wind closed in on Pensacola so we decided to leave a day early to get a head start on the drive home. Plus Georgia is not that far out of the way, is it?  (Answer: it's out of the way)  Following Google's navigation we routed to a very remote trailhead on the Silver Comet Trail just across the Georgia state line.  It felt like being driven back to the hotel by a drunk co-worker: you weren't sure how you got there -- it seemed like it took too long -- with a lot of extra turns -- and you were really happy when you finally arrived.

Unloading the bikes in the small gravel patch parking lot, we discovered Mona's bike had a flat.  

"I don't have time to fix your bike.  It's 30 minutes to sunset."  I told Mona.  

"That's OK, I'll just wait in the car.  You won't be long, right?"  She replied.

"We'll ride 10 miles and be right back," I assured her and with that Lauren and I pedaled away as fast as we could.

The combined Silver Comet and Chief Ladiga Trails run 95 miles through rural Georgia and Alabama.  A wide and well-paved trail, I was violating spirit of the Frizbo Fifty by only riding the bare minimum of 10 miles.  But Georgia was the one state in the entire Southeast that I hadn't checked off.  

MM 55 Silver Comet Trail

In the increasing gloom, Lauren and I hit the 55-mile marker took some documentation photos and headed back to the parking lot.  By the time we got back it was dark.

Get back before dark!

"Where's Mom?" Lauren wondered.

"I don't know," I answered as we rode up to the van.  I opened the door to find Mona huddled inside.

"God, I'm glad your back!  I was chased by wild dogs. And I really have to pee!"  said Mona as she hustled off to nearby bush.  Once she calmed down, she told her story.  After we left on our bikes, she decided to use the time for a short walk on the trail.  At some point she was approached by a couple of roaming farm dogs.  As I can attest, rural dogs can be quite territorial and scary.  So she retreated to the car and hid inside until our return.

"I'm so glad you weren't eaten," I said as I comforted her with a hug.  With that we resumed our journey back to Illinois.

Over the years, Mona has been a good sport on our adventures.  In 1997 when the kids were quite small (4 and 6), we took another trip to Florida for spring break.  That year we flew to Tallahassee and then drove to Blackwater River State Park for a two-night camping trip before we went to our beach house for a week.  It was already a long day by the time we arrived at the state park.

"Sorry, it's Easter Weekend, the campground is full, but I could put y'all out on the river.  You can camp on a sandbar!" suggested the park employee.

"But what about the alligators?" I asked.  I knew there were alligators in the Blackwater River State Forest.  I also knew people frequently paddled on the river without incident, but I needed some reassurance.   

"Oh, y'all be fine.  Kids tube down the river all summer and nobody's been eaten yet."

I conferred with Mona.  "Should we go for it?  We have our camping gear.  You pack our clothes and stuff for the canoe and I'll buy any missing provisions from the park store."  Soon the outfitter was driving us down a jeep road to a landing up river with a canoe and a kayak in the back.  My plan was I would paddle the canoe with the kids and gear.  Mona would go solo in the kayak.

By the time we arrived at the put-in at Wilderness Landing, it was getting dark.  The Blackwater River is lovely.  A narrow river, aptly named because of the tannins that tint the water dark brown, it meanders quietly through low hanging trees and by powder soft sandbars.

As I organized the gear, I suggested to Mona she take the kayak for a practice paddle.  She agreed.  I attempted to launch her out into river, but the kayak wouldn't budge.  It was hung up on something.  I checked that I wasn't standing on the painter rope.  OK.  I tried again.  The kayak grated, but was still stuck.  "What the?"  It was then I noticed that Mona's kayak paddle was firmly dug into the bank of the river.  She was intentionally stopping the kayak from moving.  I bent over and looked at her face.  She had tears in her eyes.

"Do you want to practice paddling?"  She shook her head no.  "Do you want to get out of the kayak?"  She nodded yes.  "That's OK, you don't have to paddle the kayak," I said as I helped her out of the cockpit.  In retrospect, I agreed with her thinking.  Who in their right mind wants to paddle, at dusk, on an opaque river, through an unfamiliar forest known to have alligators, in a kayak where your body parts are two inches above the water?  Instead I packed all the gear in the kayak, tied it to the rear of the canoe.  I then loaded the family in the canoe, well above the alligators, and paddled off into the Florida wilderness.

After a short paddle we came upon the perfect sandbar.  We immediately pulled over and set up camp.  I collected a large pile of firewood and set up the tent while Mona prepared dinner.  After dark, we put the kids to bed, relaxed by the fire and watched the river whisper by.  

Well, we thought we'd relax.  After ten minutes we could still hear the kids bouncing around in the tent.  "I'll lie in the tent until they settle down," I offered.  Minutes later, with the kids drifting off to sleep, I returned to the fire.  "What happened to all the firewood?" I wondered as the big pile was down to a few branches.

"I burned it to scare away the alligators," Mona replied.  

"You saw an alligator?" I asked peering out in the darkness.

"No, and I wanted to make sure I didn't see one," she explained.  That's fine.  It had been a long day.

The Easter Bunny found us on a sandbar

Paddling the Blackwater River

The next morning the kids got up to discover that the Easter Bunny had managed to find them on a remote sandbar.  "Good job remembering to pack the Easter goodies," I said as I watched the kids dance around the sandbar.

"Thanks.  I remembered the Easter bags, but forgot to pack any underwear for Lauren," Mona replied.

"She won't care.  She'd rather wear her bathing suit anyway."

After breakfast, the river looked much friendlier so Mona took the kayak out for a paddle.  No one was eaten.

The river is not as scary in the light of day

State:	Georgia
Date:	2016-04-01
Route:	Esom Hill Trailhead to MM 55
Distance:	10 miles (the bare minimum)

Florida, Fort Pickens National Seashore

Spring Break Road Trip -- Days 3-5

After a long drive through the Mississippi darkness, we stayed in Foley, AL and in the morning headed for the beach at Gulf Shores State Park.  Only Yankees fleeing winter would think it was a good day for the beach.

Yankees at the beach

Floating on the quiet waters of English Navy Cove

While strolling on the beach we discovered a frog in the surf.  Apparently, the poor guy accidentally let himself get washed out to sea from the nearby pond and creek.  Lauren immediately resuscitated him in a water bottle ("Hey, I was going to drink that").  We then walked across to road to the pond and released him into frog friendliest spot we could find. 

Frog rescue

He's so happy to be back in fresh water!

After the rescue, the magic frog (well, he claimed he was magic) granted us one wish.  We couldn't agree until Mom said, "I wish you would stop arguing."

For the main event, we packed a lunch and biked to Fort Pickens from the hotel parking lot.  The national seashore road is quiet and nicely paved, but has no shoulders.

Which way?

After ten miles, the road dead ends into Fort Pickens -- a fortification built after the War of 1812.  As we rode to the Visitor Center, I was distracted by the sights and sounds and failed to notice a speed bump.  I hit it going slow and one-handed.  Bam, I went over the handler bars and onto the pavement.  It must have been quite a sight as two fishermen rushed over to help.

Fort Pickens National Seashore

The old fort

Except for some minor scrapes on my knees and pride, I was OK.

Pensacola Beach Surf

We had a few nice days of beach weather, but the next day's forecast was terrible with heavy rains and wind.  So we decided to leave a day early to get a head start on the drive home. 

Route: from the hotel to the fort

Plus Georgia is not that far out of the way, is it?

State:	Florida
Date:	2016-03-31
Route:	Hampton Inn Pensacola Beach to Fort Pickens
Distance:	20 miles