Recently I wrote that some New England Asters that I encountered on a ride were “breathtaking”. I’ve been ridiculed for my gushy hyperbole. And rightly so. But when I rounded the corner on the trail and saw this stretch of eight to nine foot asters forming a brilliant wall of purple, I did gasp. I thought, I should take a picture. But I was really cruising, feeling strong and wanting to have my best time for the Cap City Loop, so I passed, thinking I’d come back later.
Two days later, I had some time, so I rode leisurely to the spot and there’s nothing. At first I think I must have been delusional. But I stop and look around. I find the plants but they’ve gone to seed. In the dusk there’s still a hint of purple but it’s only 20% or less of the inflorescence. At first I thought it must be the time of day. But then I suspect it’s the drought and the really hot days. Asters usually persist for weeks. Not this year.
So I have no photo. No vindication. Only a brief memory and a tweet.
I take pride in still seeing the natural world around me while I bike. Riding gives you access to so many stunning vistas and an intimate perspective on the roadside ecology. But once in a while you see something you’d like to photograph or stop and check out; and you don’t want to stop. Going too fast, pushing too hard or gasping for breath. I won’t stop on an uphill. Nor on a downhill. And I’d hate to lose that momentum on the flats. It’s a dilemma to be in these places you’d never see any other way, and be unable to explore them the way you would in the past.
Yesterday, I rode out near Dodgeville. Roads and hills that were new to me. High ridges and deep hollows. It was a great ride, harder than I expected but worth the pain. My legs were not happy with stairs today.
I knew I was going to like Cave Hollow Rd as soon as I saw the name on the map. I wasn’t so sure about Mt Hope Rd.
Black walnuts on the roadway are a biking hazard this time of year. Both Cave Hollow and Mt Hope Roads are wooded and had occasional stretches of walnuts on the roadway. When they are crushed by vehicle traffic the chemicals in the husks stain the roadway. Riding over a rolling stretch of Mt Hope rode I noticed that the pavement was rarely level. It would tip one way or another for no apparent reason. On one gentle downhill, I noticed a pattern in the stains as they bled across the pavement when our rare rains have washed the hull chemicals away from the crushed nuts. They curved downhill and away from the center of the road in both directions. I was struck by the patterns even though I was whizzing over them very quickly. On most roads and paths walnuts leave rotting nuts and hulls and random blotchy stains. Here they looked like an artist had painted the roadway. The graceful arching streaks reminded me of comet tails.
Another “I should take a photo” moment. But by the time I had that thought it, I was down the hill and wondering if my legs would take my back to Dodgeville. “I’ll come back”, I thought. But I remembered the asters.
The weather for the ride had been perfect. Blue skies, fluffy clouds, and no rain in sight even from the ridges with views to distant horizons. Rain has been rare in Southern Wisconsin this summer. But Saturday night thunderstorms rolled through for several hours. Sunday morning I debated what kind of ride I should do before work. Needed to do my 30daysof biking ride in spite of sore legs. But I thought of the comet tails and all the other things I wanted to investigate in Iowa County. What were those mounds on the horizon (Belmont and Platt Mounds); and what town had the old fashioned water tower that I’d circled from a distance (Bloomfield Healthcare Facility, an Iowa County nursing and rehabilitation facility).
I had a great whirlwind car tour of the area around Cobb this morning. I found the comet tails and took many photos. I also stopped for some very healthy bittersweet and a fence made out of wagon wheels. It felt good to return, to savor the world I had glimpsed the day before. I discovered that you need the right lighting to see the comet tails. If the road was mottled with bright sunlight they disappeared. I didn’t realize how lucky I had been to even see these elusive patterns. As I stood in the roadway waiting for the sun to go behind the clouds a truck went by, the driver eyeing me suspiciously. As it drove away, I heard the loud POP, POP, POP as more walnuts exploded under its wheels, setting the stage for a whole new natural design. Check out the pics below and you can decide whether the trip was worthwhile, or if I’m overreacting again.
If it weren’t three a.m., I’d share my thoughts on why I feel compelled to take photos and if cycling isn’t teaching me to live in the moment. Count your blessings.
Arching walnut stains
Barn with stone foundation
Clump of very healthy Bittersweet
Wagon wheel fence
Nut stain closeup
Branched coneflower in the Black Hawk Lake Recreation Area
The view down the road
dexheimer 