Tag Archives: Bicycling

Bob Woodruff and Oak Point

Posted on by Bill Chance

The horrible heat that has gripped North Texas for months now finally broke this week. My intention is to, for as long as the weather is bearable, try to go for a bike ride every day- or at least as often as possible.

On Saturday, the weather was nice and I had a little time to spare in the morning. I thought for a bit, and decided to drive my car with my bike in the trunk up to one of my favorite spots, Bob Woodruff Park in Plano and go for a ride. I parked at the south part of the park, put my bicycle together, did a little light maintenance, and took off.

That section of the park, south of Park Boulevard, is a beautiful grove of thick trees nestled in a curve of creekbed. I have enjoyed going there for decades – something about the dappled light coming down through the branches is so relaxing….

Bob Woodruff Park

I love this spot in Plano's Bob Woodruff Park - a perfect grove of trees.

One time, years ago, I wrote about the place:

 There are few things as beautiful as dappled sunlight meandering down through a grove of trees.

I simply couldn’t take it any more today and had to get away, so after hitting the old todo list as hard as I could from seven to eleven I took half a day of vacation and booted out of work. I drove to a park and found a little nook in the creeky woods to spread a blanket for awhile. The weather was perfect, a cloudy morning burning away to a sunny afternoon.

The illusion of being out of the city was alarming and wonderful. Despite being smack-dab in the middle of the booming northern suburbs I barely saw a soul, heard almost no sound. I ate some fruit; the pinapple was the best I’ve ever tasted.

A woodpecker rat-a-tat-tatted overhead. One oak amazed me with its huge size. It must be almost two hundred years old.

There are few things as beautiful as dappled sunlight meandering down through a grove of trees.

I checked the date… October 15, 1998 – almost thirteen years ago. It seemed warm that day, hard to believe it was October. The grove of trees hasn’t changed, though. Today it was a lot more crowded – everyone is out and about in the sudden, surprising nice weather.

Bicentennial Tree

The plaque at the base of the Plano Bicentennial Burr Oak.

There are some big trees there. One is the Plano Bicentennial Oak (renamed  the Plano Quincentennial Bur Oak – it was older than they thought). It has a plaque mounted on a concrete stand that says:

 1767 – 1987

The National Arborist Association and the international society of arboriculture jointly recognize this significant tree in this bicentennial year as having lived here at the time of the signing of our constitution.

I could have hung out in the dappled sunlight all day – but I wanted some exercise, so I pedalled out. From looking at Google maps I had seen that a whole new park had been added to the north of Bob Woodruff – it was called the Oak Point Park and Nature Preserve and it has a complex of concrete trails webbed across it.

The new park was a blast. I spent the rest of the morning exploring and trying to cover all the trails, even the Santa Fe trail that branched out into the neighborhoods to the west.

What surprised me was that there were some hills to ride up. In the northern corners of the park trails branched out and coursed up some hills. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed riding hills – the burning legs, thumping heart, and empty lungs – it reminds you that you are alive.

Oak Point Nature Preserve

From this picture you would think I was out in the country somewhere, cruising the Great Plains, rather than in the heart of the urban, tony suburb of Plano, Texas. Look how dry the grass is... you can see how the fires in Texas are happening. Most of the trail winds around the ponds and creek bottom woods in the background.

The weather was nice, though the drought has left the lakes drying up, the trees stressed, and the grass as yellow as hay. There were a lot of people out – couples, families, a couple of crowds that looked like whole neighborhoods. Everyone was friendly, everyone said Hi as they passed on the trail.

Entrance

The entrance to Oak Point Nature Preserve on the North Side. This is actually at the top of a little hill.

I rode almost twelve miles on the trails and visited most of the area.

A good day.

Cool People Live Here

Posted on by Bill Chance
Urban Reserve

Entrance to the Urban Reserve

When I was riding down the Cottonwood Trail to the White Rock Creek Trail, there was a little neighborhood I wanted to visit on my bike. It’s called the Urban Reserve, and it’s one street lined with custom homes “designed by a select group of regionally and nationally recognized architects.”,

Dallas is such an ugly city… both naturally (it is flat as a pancake, and far from the coast) and man-made (despite the great architecture downtown, most of the metroplex are cookie-cutter suburban developments thrown thoughtlessly across the prairie). So it’s pretty cool to see somebody doing something like this.

I discovered this spot driving around when Nick played basketball at a private school next to the Urban Reserve. The southern end of the street has a little strip of concrete that connects to the White Rock Creek Trail.

Water

Some of the homes have water as a design feature. Unfortunately, that doesn't work well with the horrible drought conditions. If Frank Lloyd Wright did the work, it could be called "Stagnentwater." Architecture humor.

Since I found it, I’ve been trying to get Lee to go with me down there and look at the homes. He’s studying architecture at Tulane and I thought he’d be interested in something like that in his own city. Despite my best wheedling and pleading, he never was able to carve out enough time to go with me, and he’s back at school, so I’m pedaling around by myself.

See-Through House

Not all the planned and designed homes are built yet. Do you want to live in the "See-Through House"?

X-acto House

How about the "X-acto House"?

Home

The architecture is billed as “modern.” A lot of the homes are of the contemporary boxy style – Personally, I’d like to see more variety.

Now, why would people pay the extra money to live in a place like this?

See the little blue sign against the dark wall in front of the house in the picture above? Look closely.

Cool People Live Here

This is what is says. “Cool People Live Here. please do not disturb.” This is it, really, isn’t it? Buy one of these houses, and be one of the Cool People.

Would I like to do that? You bet your life. I’ve always wanted to be one of the Cool People. If I could afford one of these houses, I’d do it.

Wouldn’t you?

Bicyclist

I wasn't the only lonely bicyclist.

Cottonwood Trail

Posted on by Bill Chance

I remember in the mid eighties when the White Rock Creek trail was built here in Dallas. The city was installing a new massive water line along the creek and they decided to construct a concrete trail along the top of the pipe. This was a new idea at the time – the trail was too narrow and poorly designed in many parts – but it was wonderful. I lived near the lake and after work I would ride my bike to the lake, around it on the White Rock Lake Trail, then up and back on the creek trail – a total of about twenty five miles – almost every day.

I was young and in good shape and the ride was a blast. I still remember the thrill of flying across the city without the worry of being hit broadside by a pickup truck. I loved riding after work because I could speed past the packed up and stopped rush-hour commuters on their crowded freeways. It was the best of times.

Since then I’ve been an advocate for hike and bike trails – and the city has come a long way. Now, I’m more of a spectator than anything else… but I do what I can.

For years I have been following the building of the Cottonwood Trail – a hike and bike trail that runs from Richardson down under the High Five Interchange at Highway 75 and LBJ 635, then south through Hamilton Park until it connects up with the White Rock Creek Trail. This is an important connector trail, enabling bicycle commuters to pierce a large part of the DFW metroplex by connecting long existing trails through areas of heavy traffic that are otherwise impassible by bicycle or on foot.

I attended a lot of meetings when the High Five was being constructed, because it was affecting the commute to work of thousands of employees at my work site. During the presentations of the enormous, expensive, and complicated plans for ramps, frontage roads, and levels of access I noticed a thin green line snaking down along the creekbed in the maps and diagrams. The legend said the green line was a “hike and bike” trail.

In true government fashion, when I would ask about the green line, they would stare at the diagram and say, “I have no idea what that is, we’ll check it out and get back to you.” I never heard from anyone. I had to wait years until the thing was finished and then park my car and walk down there.

Sure enough, beneath the massive construction, there was a hike and bike trail. A beautiful trail, wide, landscaped, lit, and carefully designed and built to all the newest specifications. There was only one problem with this trail. It went nowhere. It dead ended at each end of the massive interchange – truly a road to nowhere. They weren’t able to get the cities that bordered the interchange to commit to connect up with the trail.

For years this strip of pavement was the best homeless shelter you could imagine. I would visit it every now and then and the number of tents, campfires, and piles of sleeping bags near the broken-out lighting fixtures in the shelter underneath the ramps grew and grew.

Finally, the wheels of progress turned and after half a decade or so the trail began to reach out from either end of the High Five. Videos – Going South, and Going North.  I checked up on the progress, encouraged that the trail finally gave a safe bicycle route to the campus where I work.

There was one piece missing, though. The final little bit that connected the trail with the White Rock Creek Trail (the main spine of the trail system that runs through this part of Dallas – the one I enjoyed so much a quarter century ago) was missing. They were taking forever to finish the thing.

Now it is done. And today I had a couple hours to pack up my bicycle and try to ride along the thing.

I packed my crappy old bicycle into the trunk of my car and drove down to the Forest Lane DART station to hop on the final part of the trail. I bought this bike used for ninety dollars almost twenty years ago, so it’s not surprising that I’m having some trouble with it.

The engine, of course, is the worst. It’s old, worn out, and generally gone to shit, but I’m stuck with that. Otherwise, the seat is breaking apart and the derailleurs don’t shift very well any more. I did some work on the front shift levers, moving the adjustment knob to try and get the shifting to improve, but it didn’t seem to help.

I hopped on and headed off. The heat is a little less toxic than it has been, though it is still horribly dry here. Right away I was having trouble. It was a struggle to pedal and my legs were aching and my breathing a chore. I was beginning to feel a little spark of panic – it wasn’t supposed to be this hard.

Then I realized that I had been turning the wrong adjustment knob when I was working on the front derailleur. I had been tightening the front brake by mistake, and it was dragging the bike to a stop.

Fixing that helped a lot – though for the rest of the day I was panicked and tired.

At any rate, I had a good time. The little bit of trail seemed anti-climatic after all the years of anticipation, but that’s that. I wish the thing was there when I was riding all those years ago… or, really, I wish that I could ride like that again.

Old End

This is where the Cottonwood Trail ended the last time I rode it. This is in Hamilton Park, just south of the High Five Interchange.

Now

Here is the same spot now. Those "Trail Subject to Flooding" signs are everywhere, though I can't imagine a drop of water right now.

A little farther.

A little farther down the trail, where it crosses under Forest Lane. One reason the construction took so long is that there was a lot of work involved in this road crossing and the creek bridge.

Forest Lane DART station

The entry to the trail at the Forest Lane DART station.

Bicycle Lockers

Cool looking bicycle lockers at the DART station.

Creek Bridge

The bridge over Cottonwood Creek. Another "Trail Subject to Flooding" sign. Wishful thinking. I don't know where the trickle of water still in the creek comes from.

Rest Area

The trail runs through some thick woods between the train line and the creek south of Forest Lane. There is a nice rest area built there. This homeless guy was sitting in the rest area, reading and writing in his notebook. We talked about the weather and I helped him find a lost sock.

White Rock Creek

The southern terminus of the Cottonwood Creek trail, where it connects with the White Rock Creek Trail. The DART train is crossing White Rock Creek over the trail.

Superdrome

Posted on by Bill Chance

I remember when the Superdrome was built, thirteen years ago. There were some interesting news articles about it.

The thing was up in Frisco, which, back then, was some small town way up north of the city. It didn’t take long for the Metroplex, which has been vomiting new developments out north across the cotton fields for decades, to swallow Frisco and now it’s another tony suburb between Plano and McKinney.

There was a time that I was a good bike rider. A very good bike rider. That was a long, long time ago. I never did learn to/get to ride on a track. Some friends of mine in college did, though I have no idea where the velodrome was, now that I think about it. I remember when one of them had his track bike go out of control on the steep slopes of Mount Oread – no brakes, no freewheel – and he had to steer across a lawn and into a hedge to stop.

I was old and fat before the Superdrome was built, though I still wanted to go out and see it. A friend from work rides there and he used to always bug me to take Lee up to the track and let him try it out. I was worried about letting Lee see the track. I knew he would love it and we couldn’t afford another expensive sport.

That’s not really true. I wanted to let Lee give it a shot, but there wasn’t enough time.

Now, after all these years, now that it’s far too late, I was able to drive out there after work and watch some races.

I wanted to take some pictures, but my good camera is still broken and I don’t have the money to get it fixed. I had to settle for a few quick snaps. It didn’t take long for the sun to set and the bikes to get faster and all that I had were blurs on the track.

The most startling thing about a velodrome, the first time you see one, is how steep the banked curves are. It looks suicidal to go up there on a bicycle. In the races, though, you see how the riders use the bank to control their speed, to slow for a second without losing momentum – they pick their speed back up when then roll back down the slope.

Superdrome

The ends of the oval track are high banked curves.

There are several division of riders: juniors, masters, Categories 1-4, women… they even took a break to let a toddler pedal around on a bike with training wheels (the announcer said, “250 meters is a long way to go when your legs are that short – this is a track, no coasting!”) – and they were all fun to watch.

Superdrome

The junior riders were the first ones out on the track.

Superdrome

While one class is racing, the next group warms up on the infield.

There were enough races to get a feel for how it goes, for the different types of race, and for the different classes of rider. I was the only true spectator there – everybody else was either riding or there to watch a family member.

I enjoyed going out there and will go back. I have no idea why it took me so long to get out there, even though it is a long, gas-guzzling drive from my house during a Friday rush hour. It was fun to watch, but I would give anything to be able to ride on those slopes, and it’s never going to happen now.

New Pack

Posted on by Bill Chance

I have always had this odd fixation on daypacks and bags. I like the illusion of freedom and mobility – I like feeling of being able to flit about the city with my office on my back, able to write, draw, or take photographs as the opportunities present themselves. I like to think I’m self-sufficient, carrying my own water and food. I like to think of grabbing transport as it may come, walking, riding my bike, or hopping the train, and being good to go whenever and wherever.

All a load of crap, of course. I’m more likely to be sitting on the couch eating a ham sandwich and watching reruns of Intervention as I am to be scribbling in my Moleskine in a funky coffeeshop with my bicycle chained up out front… but I can dream, can’t I?

I have a nice, sturdy daypack – a MountainSmith that I bought on clearance at REI well over a decade ago and it is still serving me well. I have an LA Fitness gym bag and a blue nylon shoulder bag (this I take to the library) that I bought at Goodwill a long time ago. These serve their purposes too.

Table

You can see my blue shoulder bag at my favorite table at the Richardson Library.

The bag I carry the most is my Not-A-Purse. It’s a Canvas Map Case Military Shoulder bag that I bought on Amazon a few years back. It’s a nice writing bag – It will hold my Kindle, some Moleskines, notebooks, a handful of fountain pens, and sometimes my Alphasmart Neo. It has a nice hard back (it was designed as a map case) that can function as a writing surface in a pinch. It goes with me pretty much everywhere – sometimes I stuff it inside the larger daypacks.

Map Bag

My Not-A-Purse. What is strange is that I found this image floating around on the internet - I don't know where it originally came from. But if you look, there is an Alphasmart Neo sticking up in the bag. I can't believe other people out there have Neos in their bags, exactly like mine.

When it arrived from Amazon, Candy looked at it and said, “Oh, you bought a purse.”

“No it is not,” I said, “it’s a Canvas Map Case Military Shoulder Bag.”

“If it looks like a purse, it is a purse.”

“No, it’s not a purse.”

This discussion/argument has been going on for years. I hold my ground stubbornly. It is not-a-purse.

The other day some of Nick and Lee’s friends were over. My Canvas Map Case Military Shoulder Bag was sitting on the coffee table in the living room. One of the girls saw it and said, “Oh, Mrs. Chance, that is new, that is such a nice purse. Where did you get it?”

Teenagers today don’t know anything.

We took a load of old crap, three big black plastic trash bags full, to the Goodwill today and I decided to take a look at what bargains I couldn’t live without. Despite the cheapness of the used and donated goods and the poverty and desperation of most of the customers the Goodwill tries to be as organized and attractive as possible. They had big crude displays set up with back-to-school supplies. At the front were donated binders and organizers, and in the center aisle were huge cardboard totes full of bookbags and backpacks.

I dug around and found a nice Kelty Boomerang daypack. It looked unused. It was a nice size, not too big, and had good quality padded hip and shoulder straps, plus the rugged Kelty zippers and heavy fabric. The Boomerang is a discontinued model, but Kelty daypacks start at around sixty dollars – and this wasn’t one of the cheapest models. It did have a (small) logo for a dogfood company stitched into the fabric – so it must have been a giveaway at a convention or something (that’s why it looked unused).

I don’t need another pack, but I liked it. At first I wondered how much it was, but as I was looking at the thing, I found a three dollar sticker in a pocket.

I can live with three dollars. At the front counter we found that all back-to-school items were 50 percent off so the bag actually cost a dollar fifty.

The thing is, stuff from Goodwill, the downside… isn’t the cost in money. It’s the cost in space… in increased clutter. I don’t want to be the guy on Hoarders with a house full of daypacks. So, I buy a new one, I get rid of two old ones. So a couple of smaller bags go into the plastic trash bags for the next trip to Goodwill. The eternal cycle of life.

What’s nice about the bag is that it has a pocket for a hydration bladder in it. I’ve been riding my bike with my hydration pack, but it doesn’t have any pockets for other stuff. I can move the bladder from that pack into the Kelty and have a nice urban explorer kit – with water, food, writing equipment… everything I need.

Kelty Bag

My new Kelty bag and the hydration bladder that fits in it.

Yeah, if I can only get off of this couch.

Bicycle Rack

Posted on by Bill Chance

One of my main personal goals right now is to be able to commute to work on my bicycle a couple of days each week. I don’t live all that far (though there is a big evil city in between here and there) so it shouldn’t be such a big deal – but to me, it feels like it is.

I started riding on the trails by my house. Then I realized that they now reached out in the direction of my work. I found a route that would get me there without, hopefully, getting me killed.

My head was filling with progress until I had a setback – the heat here is deadly this summer; it’s making outdoor activities impossible.

Still, I plan ahead. Planning is, after all, a lot easier than doing. I’m thinking about logistics – what I must carry with me during a bicycle commute. I realized that if I’m going to ride to work I’m going to have to carry a change of clothes plus a towel and various sundries so I don’t sit in a pool of my own sweat all day. My crappy old cheap bicycle (I bought it at a pawn shop for ninety dollars more than fifteen years ago) is ugly with bags already (handlebar bag for phone, wallet, camera, keys, water and such – frame bag for lock, chain, and pump – and seat bag for repair kit) but even with that I didn’t have any place for a clothes bag.

I needed a rack. I used to have one on the bike but I took it off for some reason years ago and it is long lost. So I went to Bike Nashbar and bought one of their cheap, generic bicycle racks.

Rack

Bike Nashbar rack mounted on the back of my bicycle.

It went on easily. Doesn’t look too bad, considering.

But now I needed a bag. I could buy an expensive trunk, or a pair of even more expensive panniers, but I’m too poor for that… or at least too cheap. I did an Internet search for DIY bike bags and found more stuff that I could handle… all the way from 2×2 wooden mounting apparatus, to complex sewing instructions for pannier production. A lot of ideas were… sort of silly, but a few of the instructions seemed really helpful, and I’ll probably work my way towards some of these ideas.

But for now, as I am wont to do, I went cheap and I went simple. I stopped by Big Lots and bought a nine dollar gym bag and a set of little bungee cords for a buck fifty. I took the shoulder strap off of the gym bag and used its mounting points to bungee the bag to the rack.

Pack

The gym bag bungeed onto the bicycle rack. This was less than successful.

And off I went. I made it a good, solid twenty feet until I felt something jam into my rear spokes. The bag had slid off sideways and fallen over. I should know better – it is always stability that gives problems, not strength.

I thought about giving up. I was tired and hot. But I had packed extra bungee cords and I used them to attach the handle straps on the bag to the sides of the rack. And that worked. I went for a little four mile ride and the bag didn’t budge a bit.

Pack Straps

This works, but it looks stupid. Though not as stupid as when I'm actually riding the thing.

It sure looks awful, though. I’ll do some thinking, work on a more elegant way to attach the thing. At least I know now what the parameters are and that it will at least work.

But who am I kidding – it isn’t the rack or the bag on my bicycle that’s the problem. It’s the engine. It’s old, crappy, and wore out. That’s what needs to be worked on and worked over. That’s what makes the simple act of riding a bicycle to my work feel like Sisyphus and his rock.

Surfing around the web at random, I found this song and video I had seen when it first came out a couple years ago. I had forgotten how wicked cool this was. Love it.

http://vimeo.com/5020497

The best-laid schemes

Posted on by Bill Chance

The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men
Gang aft agley,
—-To a Mouse, Robert Burns

 

Furnace

Furnace

I had great plans for the weekend. I even wrote them down – a two page list in one of my Staples Bagasse Composition Books I carry with me always. Two pages! Who the hell am I kidding?

Well, of the projects I wanted to complete, I finished… hmmm… let me count… none.

On Sunday, around noon or so, I was trying to decide whether to go to the library and write (I have a certain table at the Richardson Library I like to work at – the library is open from two to six, which is a nice constrained four hour writing time – it’s shocking how fast the time flies) or to go for a bicycle ride. I decided to kill two birds with one stone and ride my bike to the library.

Table

My favorite table at the Richardson Library.

I made my preparations – packing my Alphasmart Neo (don’t want to ride my bike with my laptop), pens, notebooks, water bottles, clean shirt, towel, and such and sundry stuffins. I put my backpack on and went out into the blast furnace of the garage to get my bike. The front tire was flat.

I stood out in the sun behind the house, found the telltale little white spot where the thorn had penetrated, took everything apart (nasty little thorn, really), patched the tube, put it together, and pumped everything back up.

Maybe a half an hour. I was drenched in sweat.

I had calculated that I would be able to get to the library in the awful heat by moving quickly. The time I spent fixing the tire was too much, though. I rode about a mile and decided it was too risky. The temperature, the sun beating down, the still air… it was all going toxic. By the time I made it home I was beginning to get a little dizzy.

I am too old and way too out of shape for this. All I wanted to do was veg out in a dark cave of conditioned air. The bit of overheated exertion wore me to the bone. At that point I wasn’t even up to driving to the library. I rested a bit, went to eat with the family, and at sunset walked down to Lee’s last softball game. Once the sun is down, it’s a lot more bearable. I think the solar radiation beating down is worse than the superheated air.

I’ve complained about the heat already. And it wasn’t even bad back then, not like now. It’s always hot here in the summer, of course, but this is getting ridiculous. It wears everyone out – it is so hard to get anything done.

Deadlier than the Male

Deadlier than the Male

The only thing I accomplished was to read another bit of Pulp Fiction I had queued up. This one was Deadlier than the Male, by James Gunn. No, this isn’t James Gunn, the science fiction professor that teaches at my alma mater (yes, I took a class from him, but that’s a whole ‘nother story). This James Gunn seems to have not written another novel. Nobody seems to know anything about him. The book was made into a film in 1947 called Born to Kill – which I’ll try to find.

Born to Kill

Born to Kill

It’s an odd, crazy book. I wouldn’t say it was a good book, but it was something. The language is simple, but arresting. The first line – ”Helen Brent had the best-looking legs at the inquest,” pretty much sets the scene. Most noir pulps have a small number of characters, but in this one, every chapter introduces somebody new. They keep arriving faster than they are killed off… until near the end. With each fresh character the story splits until the plot is like a big twisted knot of desperation and evil, stretching from Fresno to Frisco. I had a bit of trouble keeping track of who was who, and a few of the participants seem to simply disappear from the book once their utility wears thin, but the book was short and the story tumbled forward picking up flotsam and jetsam from the sewer of human malice until it all crashed down into the last few pages.

Since I wasn’t up for anything useful I was able to get through the book in one day. Now, I have some more pulp noir stuff in my reading list, but I need to find something different, maybe even something a little uplifting. After reading this one… I feel sort of dirty.

Heat
Heat
 

A Little Farther

Posted on by Bill Chance

After my little trip down the Glenville trail and on to Memorial Park Saturday I was all stoked Sunday for another bicycle ride. I wanted to ride the same route but push on farther. I’m starting to obsess about the possibility of commuting to work on my bicycle so I thought I’d see if I could figure out a route that would bypass the most dangerous stretches of road.

I rode on to the Brick Row Urban Village. This is a new, not-nearly-finished transit oriented development next to the DART station on Spring Valley road just East of Highway 75. A few months ago I spoke at a city council meeting in favor of a new, huge, transit-oriented development proposed for some vacant land (and another DART station) at Highway 75 and the George Bush Tollway. A lot of the speakers that were opposed to that development were complaining about the Brick Row. I don’t know what their problem is – the thing is nowhere near finished. How can they judge at this point?

brick row park

The little park in the center of the Brick Row Village. A nice place to stop, rest, and drink some water.

Maybe the progress is slower than promised – but the economy (especially real-estate development) is in the dumper… some delay is to be expected. Brick Row isn’t near occupied, the retail hasn’t arrived yet, and there is still a lot of vacant land – but otherwise, it looks pretty nice to me.

Brick Row

The front of the Brick Row along Spring Valley Road. You can see the elevated DART train tracks in the background. When I rode up, a train was passing - that would have made for a nice picture, but I didn't have the time to wait for the next train.

One of the nice things about bicycling is that it is the best way to learn a neighborhood. You will see things you never notice from a car, and you cover so much more territory than when you walk. I spotted a little hole-in-the-wall Pakistani Restaurant, The Silver Spoon, that I want to come back to and try. An odd name for a Pakistani place – apparently they bought a Cajun restaurant and never changed the name.

One other thing you notice on a bike that you don’t in a car are hills. Or even slight slopes. To most people the place where I live is absolutely flat. And it is pretty flat – but on the way back I sure noticed a long, slight, unrelenting uphill stretch that I sure never noticed in a car. It’s all good, though – I need the exercise… and it is nice going the other way.

I had a busy day ahead, so I didn’t dawdle more than necessary. I had ridden within a mile of my work. The rest of the route is easy – there are parking lots and sidewalks – I’d barely have to deal with cars. I’m going to keep riding… every day if I can, until I get in shape enough to start biking to work.

Wish me luck.

Today’s Route. 7.4 miles. It was hot again today, but I felt pretty good. Let’s see how this goes. Thanks for your support.

A Bit of Three Trails in the Heat

Posted on by Bill Chance

Last night before I went to sleep I watched a little bit of the Tour de France coverage. I had forgotten how exciting bicycle racing was.

There was a time, a long time ago, that I was a pretty good bike rider. I was talking to Lee the other day, he has bulked up quite a bit now that his major exercise is playing rugby rather than running. I told him that he weighed twenty pounds more than I did when I got married (and I’m a bit taller than him).

He said, “Yeah, but you were one of those skinny biker-dudes, weren’t you.”

Cross Timbers Bike Ride

Candy and I at the finish at the Cross Timbers Bike Ride in 1988

That was a long time ago.

I decided to go for a little bike ride around the neighborhood today and take some pictures. I always say that bike riding is a great sport for hot weather because you make your own breeze. That is true, but when the mercury is pushing the century mark or higher… hot is hot. So I knew I would have to take it easy.

We live at the nexus of three Richardson multi-purpose trails. The new Glenville Trail runs along the creek right in back of our house and connects up with the Duck Creek Linear trail. The Owens trail runs north from Duck Creek under a high voltage line and connects with the trail system to the north.

I piddled and pedalled a bit along all three of these.

Owens Trail

The Owens Trail runs north and south for a few miles along the right of way for a set of high tension towers.

The Owens Trail is actually how we found the neighborhood we live in how. While we lived in Mesquite, Nick swam in the swim team at the YMCA at Collins and Plano road and while he swam, I’d walk along the Owens Trail. I found the Duck Creek area at the south end of the trail and thought it might be a good place to live.

Tree The Town

In many parts of my city there are areas that volunteers have planted trees under the Tree the Town program.

I have followed the progress of the Tree the Town program and am an enthusiastic supporter. It will be interesting to see these trees grow as the years/decades go by. Tree planting is truly one of the things we do for the future, we will not live long enough to see this to its fruition. I hope most of these can make it through the burning summers.

Shady Rest Stop

Shady Rest Stop

A shady bench is a valuable find on a hot day. I sat there and drank a whole liter of ice water. I had to lie down in the trail to take this picture. When I did I heard a voice say, “Are you all right?” It was another guy riding by on his bicycle – the only other one I saw out in the heat. “I’m fine, only taking a picture.” I felt like an idiot.

Saigon Mall

Saigon Mall

The south/east terminus of the Duck Creek trail is at busy Jupiter Road, with the Saigon Mall across the street. I love this place. Sometimes, when I have the time, I ride my bike over to Lee’s Sandwiches and buy their fresh baguettes. I have to ride how with the long, thin, loaves sticking up out of my backpack. I feel like a Frenchman.

Ducks

They don't call my neighborhood "Duck Creek" for nothing. While I was digging my camera out a car pulled up on the other side and a couple began throwing bread. The birds went crazy.

Ponds

Past my house, the Glenville Trail loops around a couple of flood control ponds and a bridge crosses over to the new Huffhines Community Center. It’s all very nice, actually. You can see some more “Tree the Town” trees in front of the rec center.

I wanted to ride some more, though my water was empty, but I have a lot to do today, so I went the half-block home.

I felt good, actually. I need to do this more often… like every day. We’ll see… I’ll let you all know, I guess.