This is the second of three posts about my bike ride last Saturday. I’ve got a sampling of images here that show the contrasts in the landscape I passed through; the third post will talk about a few of the critters I saw.
On the way out, I simply enjoyed the ride. On the way back, I stopped to take photos. It was hotter; I was a bit tired from the first ride and then several hours walking around the fair. I enjoyed the short breaks to take the pictures.
On the right in this photo is the Poudre River, designated the Cache la Poudre River National Heritage Area, and on the left is the carefully manicured Link-N-Greens Golf Course. On the other side of the golf course is Lambspun, although see the next photo. . . .
To get to Lambspun by bike, you’d have to negotiate this (photo taken from the trail). I would have enjoyed a browsing stop at either Lambspun or My Sister Knits, but neither was readily accessible by bike without leaving the trail system, which I didn’t want to do.
I think this is a gravel-mining operation, although I haven’t been able to quickly find a map to confirm. There are large piles characteristic of excavation.
And a series of ponds not long after that.
Here’s a marker of the high-water mark in the 1997 Spring Creek flood. I lost my big loom and most of my textile books and a bunch of artwork and supplies, but five people lost their lives when a wall of water swept through the center of the city.
I’d driven half a mile west of the most heavily affected area, through water that was suddenly up over the axles of my Ford Explorer and getting deeper by the second, not long before the flooding derailed a freight train.
This year was the tenth anniversary of the flood. There is now an extensive flood-warning system in place.
Here’s the southern portion of the trail system. Dry vistas are characteristic of the area away from the river.
The trail itself varies along the route that I took from wide, smooth concrete (generally straight, flat, and suited for speed . . . although there are speed-limit signs) to narrow, bumpy, mended asphalt, and a variety of surfaces in between.
Near the end of my ride home, I was one of a group of six cyclists who came across a young man kneeling and bent over with his torso extended on the ground. A bike and bike gloves and a messenger bag were nearby. The fellow was conscious but not coherent, and did not respond to questions about whether he was okay or not. In fact, he didn’t even raise his head, although the muscles in his arms and hands stayed tense and he did roar at one point.
One of the cyclists ended up calling 911 on a cell phone. Five of the group had traveled from the next town down the highway and needed to get back. With the assistance of a father and son who came along while we were trying to figure out what was going on with the young man, I stayed on the scene until the paramedics, fire authority folks, and police did an initial evaluation and transported him to the hospital for more thorough analysis and care. He needed it.
It was good to see the community response, both unofficial and official, get this person help. It was good to be a part of a group of strangers who didn’t just roll quickly past a challenging situation and who backed each other up with regard for everyone’s safety.
Next post . . . glimpses of non-human wildlife. . . .