First Tracks

I think the impetus for this trip is the same impetus that gives rise to most absurd sounding adventures - the urge to just walk out one's door and go someplace you've never been.  The goal is not so much the destination, but the act of getting there.  I was reminded of this this morning, when MPR's excellent News Cut blog posted this story.  I'd advise you all to go check it out if you have a spare minute.

Salsa, the manufacturer of the two bicycles Kate and I have bought, operate under the motto of "Adventure by Bike."  My cynical reaction to that would be that some PR guy came up with that, but having a look around their website, I'll give them the benefit of the doubt and conclude that the guys running that brand reached their own conclusion.

But I rather decided that I needed to explore this notion myself, so last Monday, I drove down to the Minnesota Valley National Wildlife Refuge, where, I was accurately told, there are a number of hiking/biking trails that snake down the Minnesota River valley.  Previously, I had taken the Fargo up to Theodore Wirth Park in Minneapolis, where I very foolishly tried to tackle singletrack trails that, I, as a complete novice mountain biker, really had no business being on.  The good folks at the Angry Catfish, after I relayed tales of my idiocy, very kindly suggested that the river bottom trails might be a good first step for a beginner.

And were they ever right.  The river bottoms, I thought, were a great challenge - easy enough for me to make a 10 mile loop after work, but still having a few rocky sections and some sand that could challenge my beginner skills.  It was a great confidence builder, and it felt really great to be able to get my new bike dirty for the first time, squelching through mud and struggling through the soft sand left behind by the soggy spring. Did I go down once or twice in the sand?  Well, yes, I did.  But more importantly, I learned I could get through it.

I've lived for 27 years in the Minneapolis-St. Paul metro area, and I've crossed the Minnesota River on the Cedar Avenue bridge or the 35W bridge hundreds, if not thousands of times.  It's never really been a big deal for me - you speed across the bridge, you get to where you're going, and you don't notice much else.  But on my bike, I was able, for the first time, to go under the Cedar Avenue bridge rather than over it, and experience my surroundings in a completely different way.  It was a completely liberating feeling, that I could just point my tires in a different direction and go where I pleased.  I could stop and enjoy the view of the river, or explore that path into the woods just a little further.  When a deer suddenly crossed my path, I could slow down and really appreciate it.  I noticed the beautiful sunset over Bloomington.  It was great.

Now, riding 10 miles around the river valley is much different than some more grandiose schemes, this is true.  But I think the spirit of adventure is the same.  Why I haven't done this before, I don't know.  I won't say it is because I now have a vehicle that can get me these places, but it certainly has been a great impetus to challenge myself and try some new experiences.  Micro-adventures, if you will.

Next up, we pick up Kate's bike from the shop, and a week later, we'll give ourselves a go at our first bike overnight trip!