Except bikes

  When we traveled by bicycle in Italy, I loved the many signs indicating where bikes could go where cars couldn't. A wonderful thing has been happening in Madison recently. Signs like these are popping up all over.

It's getting much easier to get where one needs to go in the city. I like to see people using bikes as transportation as well as a healthy sport.

Some neighborhoods limit direction of car traffic but let bikes move freely so they can stay off busier streets.

Bikes are quiet and relieve traffic congestion—so shouldn't their riders be given respect and an occasional special perk? I wish that I could remind the less patient drivers that every bike represents a car that isn't in their way. At least the local traffic engineers are catching on.

A whole lot of nothing

  Of the many states I've bicycled in, Wisconsin is the best for abundance of paved secondary roads. Last week we went on a 20 mile (32km) ride in the countryside not far from Madison. In the first hour of riding, we were passed by a grand total of two tractors...and one car. Later the pace picked up and a car went passed us about every ten minutes.

These cattle seemed quite interested in us—when I stopped to take a photo, the few that were on the other side of the field ran over to be with the group. Perhaps they were happy to finally have someone go past.

In the last few years we have noticed a wonderful improvement in cycling in Wisconsin. Whereas farm dogs used to be a dangerous annoyance when they ran out and gave chase, lately we have not seen any dogs on the loose.

Remembrance of falls past

Autumn brings back some of my fondest childhood memories such as the aroma of leaves when kicked. This week is more suited to sitting by the fireplace but last week I was riding a bike through golden coins of leaves.

They were so lovely I stopped my bike to kick a little gold.

This week is very blustery and the leaves are quickly coming off the trees. Recently it was very still. Autumn is the season of change.

Cranes scare bikers

On a recent bike ride on the 40 mile (64 km) Military Ridge Trail near Madison, bicycling traffic came to a complete halt due to some very agitated parents. There was a great hullabaloo while they called and strutted threateningly on and near the trail.

Was it respect for the birds or the fact that a Sandhill Crane is 4 to 5 feet tall (1.2-1.5 meters) and armed with a long sharp bill? It turns out that a chick that is only about a day old ignores parental efforts to herd it away from people—it likes the newly mown grass on the edge of the trail. Even there we could rarely see it because it was so tiny.

Eventually the parents switched tactics and tried to decoy us up a hill and away from where the chick  was. They just don't get it that bicyclists don't like to ride in tall grass, but at that point we felt it was safe to ride away on the trail and leave them in peace until the next cyclists came along. It looked like the new parents had a busy afternoon ahead of them.
Nitty gritty: Wisconsin had the very first rail-to-trail in the US and has gone one to develop an extensive system with hundreds of miles of car-free trails on former railroad beds. Most of them are surfaced with crushed limestone and a bike with fairly skinny tires can handle them. Between the trails and an amazing network of paved secondary roads, Wisconsin is heaven for bicyclists. And don't forget the cheese!

Just a tourist here myself

   I like to play tourist in  my regular stomping grounds and see things with a fresh eye. (There is nothing like being on a bicycle to help us notice the details; rest stops are an ideal time to explore places that in a car we would be whizzing past.)  This week we stopped in at the Cedar Grove Cheese factory in Plain, Wisconsin to see where some of our favorite local cheese comes from. We saw them shoveling sheep milk cheese.

It wouldn't surprise me to see enough cow cheese to shovel, but sheep aren't all that common in Wisconsin. The nice young man at the counter, an aspiring opera singer, said they produce over 10,000 pounds (about 4,5000 kilograms) of cheese a day. Most of it is cow cheese and they specialize in organic and rBGH-free cheese. Besides being shipped out in big trucks, some of their cheese goes all over the world via UPS. After sampling and buying cheese, refilling our water bottles, and enjoying the air conditioned store, we checked out their Living Machine next to the factory.

Cedar Grove uses tanks with natural microbes and hydroponic plants to clean up their wastewater so it's clean enough put it into Honey Creek. It processes about 7,000 gallons (26,000 liters) of water a day.
  A couple of days later, a very challenging hilly ride took us from North Freedom across the ancient Baraboo Range to Loganville. Even though two state highways intersect there, minutes can go by between vehicles; it's a very quiet little town. By the time we arrived, our packed sandwiches seemed rather paltry, so we were happy to discover Aunt Ozie's Cafe where we refueled with a tasty lunch including some of the best home-made potato salad I've ever tasted.

Across the street is Burmester's Grocery Store, where one can do a bit of time travel to a really old fashioned grocery store.

The stock is a little sparse; I wanted a candy bar and fortunately Mr. Burmester had several Snickers bars on hand.

Still green

Autumn is suddenly just around the corner. Nights are cooler and the air is crisper. The corn fields are turning brown and all to soon only conifers will be green. We were out in the country the last couple of days; I feel a need to take advantage of the weather while it's nice. We rode our bikes on Short Cut road. It's a quicker way to get from the middle of nowhere to a different middle of nowhere.

We saw a rare green barn. (In Wisconsin they are usually red or white.)

Hiking in the woods, where a few trees are already changing colors, we hunted for wild hickory nuts but the squirrels had already found most of them.

 Summers always seem to go too fast but at least we have good knitting weather to look forward to.

I rode with Lance (and 50,000 others)

Today was Madison's third Ride the Drive event.  Six miles (10 km.) of major downtown city streets were closed to all motorized vehicles from 10 to 4.  Lance Armstrong came to ride. I didn't actually see him, but we were out on the route at the same time.

A few places were so crowded riding was slow but it was great to be in such a huge group of cyclists. For fun, it sure beats being in a traffic jam of cars.

The police and volunteers did a fabulous job of keeping things running smoothly and most of the route was wide enough to ride at a good rate.

We stopped for lunch and got a nice 10% discount for showing our Bicycle Benefits helmet sticker. Ah, if only summer could last longer...

Out on the prairie—by bike

One of the joys of our city is that bike paths have proliferated in recent years and it's easy to ride to a prairie. Prairie used to cover much of Wisconsin and helped create the rich soil that attracted European immigrants. A tiny part of original prairie remains but the UW Arboretum has been at the forefront of research on prairie restoration.

  I love the feeling of space when I'm in a prairie and prairie flowers in bloom seem to change weekly. Here are some photos of prairies easily accessible by bicycle from my house.

Bike love

   First there was that big blue bike on which I could hardly reach the pedals. Once it fell on my six-year old body in the school parking lot and I wondered if I would never get out from under it. Except for that, it gave me a great feeling of freedom and independence. A couple of other bikes came and went as I grew, but the biggest change came when I was 20 with my C. Itoh  that had "World's Finest Precision Instrument" painted right on it—braggadocio for a department store bike. It was my first 10 speed and it was the beginning of riding a lot, or my idea of a lot since I wasn't at all athletic.
  Next there were more serious matching bikes for me and Mr. Rududu that he customized to have 15 speeds back when that was a real oddity.  We rode them all the way across the US in 1976 on the Bikecentennial transamerican route, some 4300 miles (6880 km). The same bikes went several times to Europe for all summer bike trips: France, Portugal, France again. Newer bikes that disassemble to go into one suitcase each have been to Italy three times.

  Much as I respect my touring bike, my feeling is profound affection for our around town bikes—matching Bianchi Milanos designed by Sky Yaeger, a friend from art school. They are so cool even little boys are impressed. I love the celeste green and the red saddle, handlebar grips and sidewalls. Madison might not be mountainous but it ain't flat; in response to a serious wimp factor, Mr. Rududu lowered the gearing a bit on the 7 speed internal hub. Every time I go up that hill to the capitol, I'm so glad. The great thing about the Milano is that I love it so much I ride whenever possible: to the store, to the farmers market, to the library. I feel it makes a fashion statement so I like to wear clothes that go with it. Shown are circle socks designed by Anne Campbell.

Six lanes of bliss

Today was Ride the Drive in Madison. Six miles (10 km.) of downtown city streets were closed to motorized traffic from 10 to 4.

It's a wonderful alternate reality being out among tens of thousands of people cavorting on bicycles. Bikes ranged from high-end racing bikes to cruisers with fat tires.

There were high wheel bicycles, there were people with massive tattoos peaking out from Harley Davidson clothing, there were dogs in wire baskets, there were children of all ages. What joy and freedom to ride down the middle of a six lane road while enjoying the absence of droning car noise.
  I loved the Lake Line installation by Bird Ross and Brenda Baker. It consisted of a very long clothesline strung along the lake shore with clothing grouped according to the colors of spectrum. Here's part of the blues.

The next Ride the Drive will be Sunday, August 29.