Coop's Corner: Another November Bike (bicycle) Ride

Sunday, November 16, 2025

Another November Bike (bicycle) Ride - 2025/11/15

Yesterday's high temperature (11/14) set a local record for mid-November and today's weather was expected to be close enough if not windier. I was in the mood for another rail-trail ride, the Aventon's battery was fully charged and the loaded rack was on the van.

I'd given though to riding 'our' local trail, the Cannon River Trail but saw online that officially it was closed in November and sections of it were under construction. That fact made it easy to choose the Chippewa River Trail instead. I'd forgotten this morning to purchase my online Daily Pass and luckily remembered on the way there to Paypal my way to legality.

First, a proper breakfast in Wabasha....

Fuel and my thermos filled....you know where....

Unloading in Durand's Tarrant Park....

I've stopped/we've stopped at this 'wayside' numerous times when riding 650th on our powered machines. Tyrone's Trail Park and Overlook.

I was curious....there are sections on 650th west of Meridean that are close to or actually underwater. This section of the trail was no different. Sand had been spread to raise the level an inch or so...barely enough to stay mostly dry. After our recent overnight lows, surface soils had started to freeze. On my way back later in the morning, this area was definitely mushier.

Dismounting required...

This was where I turned back, just short of Caryville. I was 'feeling it' and decided that at 15 plus miles turning around would be prudent.

Where I stopped to make lunch. Not being completely aware of the App on my phone, instead of following up with Resume after lunch, I pressed Finish instead.

You'll see....

My shrimp ramen with adequate daily sodium intake...

A beautiful spot for lunch....

Three kayaks and I'm assuming agate hunters on the beach..

Up until this time I'd seen no one on the trail. Stopped here I met a woman dog-walker and soon, a few other bicyclists.

Though I actually had a choice, I purposely intended to ride the Chippewa River Trail since I was so familiar with its many crossings of 650th that I'd motorcycled on. Not that far out of Durand the Red Cedar trail splits off toward Menomonie rather than to Eau Claire as the Chippewa does. My ride as far as Careyville was roughly half way to Eau Claire on the trail.

Curious I went only as far as the old railroad river bridge on the Red Cedar Trail.

When I stopped for lunch, pressed Pause.....When I started riding again, I missed Resume and got Finished instead.

So I started another ride from there....

Another very enjoyable day, temps at mid-50's when I started at 7 and almost the same at noon when I finished. All morning the wind increased though unlike the thermometer. Next time I start in Durand I'll take the Red Cedar Trail and explore that one. Very unlikely it will be yet this year based on weather predictions.

2 comments:

JasonNovember 17, 2025 at 1:48 PM
Hay Coop, looks like a cool trail. I've biked it from Menomonie south about 100 years ago.
I've decided that my time spent motorcycling, biking, photographing, and fishing are not individual hobbies but part of a bigger hobby, to get out an explore new and old places. If I'm doing that then I'm doing it. The rest is just a vehicle. (Just a thought to share on a place where thoughts are shared)
Looks like that e-bike is opening up new paths. :)
Cheers!
Jason
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Others say....

"it was auspicious to approach any situation from a deferential, inquisitive place. Conceding that there is much to learn is the best blueprint for discovering something new." ----B. Fuller

The Man straightened stiffly above the block of salt fixed to the stake and looked at the young cattle ringed about him. The pasture was holding out well and the stock was looking good. This bunch would be ready to sell in another month, maybe sooner if the market was right.

A stir among the cattle down near the river brought him round to face the swinging bridge he'd built years before. Someone was coming toward him from the bridge. Someone in breeches, but it didn't look like a man, somehow. What was a woman doing in his pasture this time of night?

He bent over the salt again; maybe if he paid her no heed she'd go on past and let him mind his own business. He heard her footsteps come nearer and stop. "Good evening," she said.

Her voice was smooth with book learning but friendlier than most, and somehow almost shy. When he made no answer she went on, "I've been sitting on your swinging bridge....I thought I'd like to say thank-you...." Her voice stumbled a little, then she tried once more.

"You are Mr. ____". His name sounded strange in her voice, but she went on to tell her own.

"That's what they've called me the last sixty-eight years," he said, looking past her face to the hills fast darkening under a single star. "I reckon the woods are free for those that like to walk there."

The unfamiliar voice laughed a little. "That's what Emerson said: the grove belongs to the man who walks in it with an open heart....On that basis I guess I've owned part of your woods for a good many years.....". She made a final effort. "I've always wanted to thank you....."

Something deeply hidden stirred in him. "There's a stump up there, in the notch of the woods", he said slowly, "that before the timber grew so tall you could stand on it and see all over this country."

He kept still a minute, remembering, then, "I used to stand up there an' look at things, an' wonder how they come to be like they was, an' how the hills was created, an' all the things in Nature.... I told my wife I guessed all the religion I ever had I got standin' on that old stump, a-wonderin'..." He turned his face away from her.

She helped him out. "I know about that, a little. This afternoon I saw......." Her account of a thing she had really taken time to look at eased him, and he answered with telling of the badger den at the foot of the swinging bridge.

When she had gone, he turned to watch her. After a moment she stood clear and unmoving against the sky. You could hear the sounds of the river where she stood. She was one that could stand still long enough, he thought, really to hear what a body was saying, or a river.

Then she walked down the farther side of the slope and was gone. ------Margaret Snyder from A Chosen Valley

Fall was the end of harvest, end of the growing season, a burst of color and sun-warmth before killing frost turned the land gray and cold. Fall was a moody time, full of both life and death, a time when we were reminded of the power outside of us, reminded that the seasons happen to us. We do not invite the change to come.-------Ben Logan, from The Land Remembers

When you get those rare moments of clarity, those flashes when the universe makes sense, you try desperately to hold onto them. They are the lifeboats for the darker times, when the vastness of it all, the incomprehensible nature of life is completely elusive. So the question becomes or should have been all along, what would you do if you knew you only had one day, or one week, or one month to live. What lifeboat would you grab onto? What secret would you tell? What band would you see? What person would you declare your love to? What wish would you fulfill? What exotic locale would you fly to for coffee? What book would you write? ------- Ben Tyler

We were also cautioned about journeying far from home. As an example of the dangers, the town had a badly crippled lady named Lucy, who as a girl had traveled to New York City. As she traveled along a sidewalk, sightseeing, she was struck by the outstretched hand of a suicide who had leapt from high above. Her spine had been shattered and for the rest of her life, she was to walk bent forward at the waist, tapping the sidewalk with two black canes. Whenever the subject of travel to a big city was raised, someone would say, "Just remember what happened to Miss Tripp." ---- Ted Kooser, from Local Wonders

"Steamboats are like wedding cakes without the complications...." ----Mark Twain

"It's not about having lots of money, it's about having lots of options......." -----Chris Rock

As the very proud father of three former ponytail wearers, hopefully I can get away with this....."For the past few years it's been fashionable for young women to wear ball caps and to snap the strap on the back under their ponytails. I like the looks of that, their shiny ponytails jauntily swinging, but it's hard not to think of the rear ends of horses. There's a piece of harness called the crupper that goes just under a horse's tail to keep its nose down. If the horse lifts its head to look for a way out of whatever predicament it's in, the crupper tightens and hurts the horse. But it's foolish for parents to think that a ball cap might keep a young woman from running away. Anybody can see they're made for running." ------Ted Kooser, Local Wonders

"I tell the guy's girlfriend that the only difference between the book's main character Phaedrus and myself is that I am neither brilliant, tortured or insane, she looks at my bike and there is an uncomfortable silence." --------ahendepe (a.k.a. Vermin)