Knee Deep in the Big Muddy

This morning, I headed out on the cargo bike to run some errands, starting with a trip to the DMV office in Wethersfield to renew the lapsed registration for my rarely-driven car. Unfortunately, you can't do that any more. The asinine notion of not being able to renew a motor vehicle registration at the freaking Department of Motor Vehicles and the built-in delay inherent in doing so by mail left me in a moderately foul mood. While planning my morning loop, I had toyed with the idea of a side trip to see how the ferry landing area had fared in all of the flooding. Now, the mood-lifting power of an extended ride made it a necessity.

I rode through Old Wethersfield and under I-91 to the northern entrance to the meadows by the Putnam Bridge. Within a hundred or so feet, I saw the sun-baked mud of the high water line. Within a few dozen feet of that was the damp mud of a more recent water level. Within a tenth of a mile or so, my hubs were submerged in the gently flowing murky water. I opted for a U-turn when it it got knee-deep (roughly at the first break in the shade in the above photo). My panniers are rain-proof, but not fully submersible. I found myself wanting a 29er for the first time I can recall.

I backtracked to Ol' Dirty Wethersfield and picked my way southward through the local streets that lay between the Silas Deane Highway and the river until I came upon a trail entrance in Rocky Hill. Bicycles were not listed on the battered sign of prohibited trail users, so I forged ahead along what quickly proved to be debris-strewn singletrack. The trail had suffered a fair amount of downed trees and limbs-- some fresh, some older, and wasn't in the best of shape. A large, recently fallen tree eventually thwarted my southern progress, so I backtracked and followed another trail that eventually led me to the old railroad tracks, which I followed south until the ferry landing came into view. The Yuba continues to prove way more capable off-road than it has any business being, semi-slick tires and all. That said, riding the railroad ties made me wish my imaginary 29er had some suspension as well.

Not surprisingly, the ferry and the boat launch were most definitely closed and the Ferry Park parking lot was submerged. I headed home, wending my way northward through Rocky Hill and Wethersfield, following a quiet and scenic route through Mill Woods Park, Wintergreen Woods, Goodwin Park and the Trinity College campus. The morning's DMV disappointment was miles and worlds away. Registering the car doesn't seem particularly important any more.
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NOAA

You may have noticed that on the right there are two links to the NOAA sites about the CT and Farmington Rivers' activities. You should check them out. Shit's pretty real. (that phrase is still cool, right?)

I'm expecting this year's Eel, if along the river, will be entirely different from last year.
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Obligatory hurricane pictures

Hartford was largely spared by Hurricane Irene. The Park River is underground, so downtown didn't float away. The Farmington Valley didn't fair well and I hear Vermont is a mess. I'm going there next weekend to verify. Southern CT didn't do so hot either. So, anyway, I've ridden around and taken some pictures of big puddles and fallen trees. Do you have better pictures?. And here is the rest of it. Read more!

Pornos

If you rode eel #1 or participated in one of those many source to sea river cleanups, you've noticed a little ribbon of singletrack that runs from the Park-CT River confluence to the northern edge of Charer Oak Landing. Every time we have a cleanup, interesting things are discovered there: giant knife, half a canoe, etc. Now, it seems to be developing a library of pornography. I first noticed it a few weeks ago. I took the scenic route back to work today after lunching at home and it looks like there's more.

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Pasta on the move: Spring edition

The tulips bloom for my puttanesca.

The Spring floods still haven't abated for us. Look at this forlorn snail as he dares to cross the Scheldt.

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Flood porn

The Connecticut River is high. NOAA is saying intense things (IN ALL CAPS and spelling "officials" wrong) like this:

THIS IS A SERIOUS FLOOD EPISODE. FOLLOW THE DIRECTION OF YOUR LOCAL EMERGENCY MANAGEMENT OFFICALS. IF ASKED TO EVACUATE...DO SO IMMEDIATELY. ALL FLOOD PROTECTION MEASURES MUST BE RUSHED TO COMPLETION IN FLOOD PRONE AREAS. TOWNS FROM WINDSOR LOCKS AND EAST WINDSOR SOUTH THROUGH HADDAM AND PORTLAND WILL EXPERIENCE SIGNIFICANT FLOODING OUTSIDE OF LEVEES AND FLOOD PROTECTION WALLS.

So, I rode down to the river yesterday evening and look around.

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Flinging Mud

In the spirit of the Red Sox, I also had a completely bootleg opening day for cycling. Now, it's not that I stopped during the winter. It's just that my cold weather cycling was transportation-only, not joy riding. So, with today's forecast of temperatures in the 50s and sunshine, I was excited to get out and go down by the river, where it would not be flooded anymore.

I loaded up the Jenny, who does not go out when there is snow and ice on the ground. The plan was to ride around, read a book in the sunlight, and maybe stop for coffee before meeting up with friends on the other side of town. Everything is all set and ready to go, and I realize the tires are really soft. I usually make such observations once I'm miles for home. Oh, and I have no idea where my pump is. I had to unload everything and take Starry Starry Bike, which does not have a basket and which still does not have the seat/handlebar arrangement quite to my liking anyway. I like to sit upright, not hunched forward.

Since the tires are all inflated and I needed to get out for fresh air, I was not going to be too annoyed about it. Anyway, it's got working brakes, which is more than can be said for most local bikes.

The first thing I notice is that everything is out of whack. The shifting is rough. There are three separate sounds coming from the bike that ought not be. But the brakes work and the bike can move, which is all I need for the time being. I just wish it would be a more stealthy ride.

The public path is, of course, blocked with a gate. There's enough room to walk my bike around it, but a cargo bike wouldn't fit. This is total bullshit and there are other barriers that could be put into place that would allow bicycles to go through more easily, while blocking cars. Patrolling of the Riverfront is sporadic -- heavy during the week and less so on the weekend -- which is only a concern in so far as I wanted to immediately complain about the gate to someone.


So, there is a new crop of graffiti, none of which is impressive. Really, if you're going through the trouble of making illegal "art," why not write something worth reading? Step it up guys!

My irritation with how inaccessible this awesome path is continues. The elevators to the elevated plaza were marked "closed for season." It's April, sunny, and warm. What season are they waiting for? So, I have to either go all the way around from the edges of the Riverfront path (which I do) or I have to portage my bicycle up all the friggin steps. I can't walk up half the stairs without getting winded. Those are crap options.

A large section of the path is now muddy from what the Connecticut River gifted us when it overflowed its banks. It ended up being better that I took Starry Starry Bike because the Jenny's tires probably would not have liked it. As sloppy as it was, the mud only got on my boots, thanks to my fenders.

It was fun watching people sliding around on the path. Looked like the MDC trucks had trouble with the path too. Suckers.


When I got to the Riverside Park I saw that there was a festival of fire or something on the East side of the river.
One marvels at the things that go on over there. Fires. Dirtbikes on sandbars. It's comforting to have a river in between us and that nonsense. We only have to contend with uninspired graffiti and drunks passed out on the stone benches.

Like a drifter I was born to bike alone.

When I finally abandoned the riding around in circles aimlessly, I thought I'd stop off for a late breakfast. After manhandling the quaint sidewalk cafe so that I could lock up my bike, someone came over the inform me that the new cafeteria-with-canned goods has a bike rack inside of the parking garage next door. They might want to post signs advertising that. Anyway, I sat where I could see my bike just in case some ironic young professional decided to mess with it. Next time, the bike is coming in with me. If people can bring strollers into stores, I can bring my bike. There's nothing on my bike, after all, that wails or shits itself.


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Moon zero xm

Winter is now here officially. There was also an eclipse and meteor shower and volcano thing.

So, I had a druid ceremony down in the meadows.


It was overcast, so I didn't get any of those crazy red moon pictures that I saw on the internet. Read more!

Epic deposit

Hard to ride on.

When you ride a bike, you try to strike a balance between the efficient way and the interesting way to get somewhere On Friday, I rode home from work via Manchester. That was all of the latter and none of the former. One Saturday, I rode to my Grandpa's house in Essex, mostly following rt 9 and rt 154, but Salem and I rode on the quieter and dirt-based roads. That was mostly the former. Yesterday, I rode to the bank in Bloomfield, but through the reservoir to get them and then returned on the regular roads. That was a combination of both.

Also, I saw a funny stolen license plate this morning. Lately, the stolen plates seem to come from Vermont and Maine. They stick out, because while they're New England states, they're aren't many people in them. I mean, Vermont is the 49th most populous state. Given the frequency I'm seeing VT license plates in Hartford, you'd think everyone had moved out. Anyway, I was behind this Cavalier with a Maine plate today and I was curious as to why there was white tape at the bottom. Why would you want to cover up "Vacationland"? Well, that wasn't what was covered. "Motorhome" covered.

Ed. note: People like our pictures in color. Now there's a new poll up.

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Falling water

It's the tail end of fall and it's cold and dark, but there's one sign of spring: the Connecticut River is flooded. There are even ducks. I attempted a lunch time ride up to Windsor along the riverfront, but was thwarted by the high water.



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Blocked

I don't do "heartfelt" or "sentimental," so the plethora of gratitude posts/articles leading up to and on Thanksgiving always infect me with good old-fashioned alienation and bitterness. People who do not have a fractured relationship with their families do not get this; so, it's been a week or so of knee-deep guilt and general annoyance. After all, a lot of these same people who love to talk about gratitude run out the next day to be rude to fellow beings at the shopping malls, nevermind support the Black Friday nonsense that requires minimum wage workers to report in at three a.m., forcing them to leave their own Thanksgiving dinners early so that they can take a nap before work.

What does this have to do with bicycles?

My pissy mood lifted enough today to recognize my gratitude for being able to ride a bike and for owning a decent one. This allows me to ride faster than the speed of street harassment. I can travel more safely late at night by myself. My brakes work.

Recognizing this, I took a shorter-than-expected jaunt down by the Connecticut River. When we begin to get snow and ice, I am switching from my Jenny to Starry Starry Bike, with the intention of maintaining Jenny's good looks and lack of saltiness. I had not even reached Downtown before realizing that I would have been better prepared for the ride with a balaclava and thermos of hot chocolate.

The ride to the river is always interesting. I cut through Sheldon-Charter Oak and South Meadows, which means passing buildings and beings that have both seen better days. The Capewell Horse Nail Factory and Colt Armory are two such places. As for the people, this area has a number of homeless shelters and soup kitchens, and it's along the highway and railroad, which some live along. I guess this traces back to gratitude too, because I live in a community where we actually have services and resources for the hungry, homeless, and ex-offenders. It might be uneasy at times to ride on past, but at least we are not outsourcing our "problems" for others to deal with.

Arriving at the secret creepy entrance to the Riverwalk, I saw the gate was closed and I could find no way around it. I suppose I could have jumped it and lifted my Jenny overhead, but honestly, that was a lot of effort to put forth on a Sunday morning. I figured I'd just ride on the roads further, go into Charter Oak Landing, and hook up with the path there.


What I discovered was that the path was obstructed by construction equipment. My assumption and hope is that they are finally getting around to completing Riverwalk South, the unpaved section of path between Charter Oak Landing and Mortensen Riverfront Plaza. It's never been too difficult to either ride or push my bike up the unpaved part, but as much as I might think I'm the center of the universe, other people may actually want to use this path, including the elderly and those in wheelchairs. What I learned over Thanksgiving vacation is that the elderly do not enjoy off-roading it through any parks. In fact, slightly uneven sidewalks can make them cranky.

I was hoping the Riverfront Recapture website would have more information on the project, but there's nothing more than a vague reference to the plans.

Circling back, I got distracted by something I wanted to take a photo of and ended up heading the wrong way on a one-way street. This would not be a big deal except that after I was halfway down the street, people came pouring out of a Polish church and I found myself standing on the sidewalk, with my bike, just waiting for the street gridlock to subside.

Thinking I'd get something more out of this, I tried to find coffee and a snack Downtown, but unless I wanted a F.B.S. there was nothing for me. The Sunday after a holiday is reason for all the good places (anything but DD) to shut down.

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Pants and secret cove

As you may or may not know, there's a new pants place on Pratt Street. More specifically, there's a denim place. It's called the Hartford Denim Co.; they make and fix pants. They fixed the crotch of the pants I'm wearing right now and yesterday they fixed the crotch of Johanna's pants. They do a good job. I'm saving up to buy a pair of their tricked out pants that last for a million years. TJ has a pair and hasn't had to take them off in a month!

After work, Johanna's pants and I went on a little trip.

View secret cove in a larger map

It was poetic and dark. I took some pictures. The pants enjoyed the trip. Whilst exploring the secret cove actually got turned around and felt a little lost. That added to the poetic nature.

If you go check it out, make sure there aren't any cars parked nearby even if you're wearing orange. It's a popular hunting and target shooting spot and you end up down range from the target shooting.

On a more serious note, you've probably seen the front page news about poor Henry Dang. That sounds like a fucked up cover up to me.

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Salem's ride: nobody died

On the heels of the eel, Salem organized himself a ride out into the hinterland of East-Central Connecticut. Calling it the De-tour de Connecticut, it left from Salem's house in South Glastonbury, went through Meshomasic State Forest, over to the Air Line Trail all the way out to Willimantic, then it came back west on the Hop Brook Trail, did some very interesting in Manchester, hit the boardwalk and then ventured back to Glastonbury via Keeney Cove, where a secret bit of singletrack was discovered and rendered Keeney connected to Naubuc.

The bike was dirty.

Information about about how this was all going to work involved descriptions like this:

• I've been wanting to lead this loop for a number of years, and now I finally took the bit. More or less, it is a grand tour of Connecticut's eastern rail trails and some other hidden gems thrown in to boot. Mostly crushed cinder path, I've ridden all of it with a road bike, but would recommend at least a 32c tire, so a cross bike or rigid mountain bike would probably be the ideal as there are some some short but significantly rough sections, and even a touch of singletrack. In other words, it is a typical ride for me. A rough outline on google maps says about 75 miles, so yes, it will be a long day. The good news is the vast majority of the loop stays off car-accessible routes and much of it is rather pretty as well.
• 2) Regarding bikes, I've done most of the recon on a road bike but have had walk here and there. Cross bike is good if you view that as a mild offroader, but if you view a cross rig as just a dirt-road-bike, best bring yourself a mountain bike. Dario will be riding a fixed gear 20" BMX with no seat just to show us what wimps we are.
• In answer to requests for a route, the short answer is, "Sorry, no I can't provide one." Not only would it ruin the surprise (where's everyone's sense of adventure?), but the loop doesn't stick to mapped routes, or paths. The sketch: Meshomasic to Airline trail, to Hop River Trail, no-name trails etc through Manchester and E. Hartford, paths along the river, and back. Thus the "De-tour" de CT.

Then, it got clean!

Due to a dare, I rode it on the old fixed Colnago, which was stupid. None the less, it was exciting with dangerous bridges, secret Manchester singletrack and a heart-poppingly strenuous rip-rap along the railroad. I didn't take any pictures, so I don't have any evidence of the final trudge through high water on Point Road. It was a pretty epic final trudge: glowering bike people with bikes on shoulders wading through thigh deep water.

And, that was that. Thanks for leading us on a great ride, Salem!

Cat playing the synthesizer.

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