No trail left behind

I have been a somewhat lazy blogger, but I've been a relatively ambitious biker. You win some, you lose some.

As I mentioned recently, the mileage is certainly adding up, and I am happy to say I've been able to vary my routes — even in spite of recent flooding.

Trail fatigue was a problem for me last year, so that's why I'm patting myself on the back for exploring new trails.

Here's what I would've crossed off my Des Moines biking bucket list, if I had such a thing.

* Great Western Trail, south of Cumming. I was surprised by quite a bit about the Cumming-to-Martensdale portion of this trail.

It's hillier than the north chunk — not truly hilly, but definitely with more inclines. It's in rougher shape, too, despite being so rural.

And man, is it rural. The roads are neither straight, nor on a grid, nor paved. I've definitely become a city slicker.

* Raccoon River Valley Trail complete loop. I'd never been north of Panora or north of Minburn until the BACooN Ride.

Since I'd done large chunks of it before, nothing necessarily surprised me, but I was glad to have conquered the entire loop. (Still unclaimed: the northern stretch from Herndon to Jefferson.)

Especially on a day where I felt pretty blah physically and mentally, and where I seriously feared I'd melt in the humidity. Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate!

* High Trestle Trail. My most recent exploration came when Cory and I rode from Ames back to Des Moines, after returning a truck we borrowed from a buddy who lives there.

After 12 hot, hilly, humid miles, we picked up the High Trestle and did it all — and it was totally worth that first challenging portion!

I don't think photos do the bridge justice (especially not my sweaty smartphone selfie).

Conditions weren't great for lingering over the perfect shot.

I can't wait to go back along that smooth, spacious pavement, maybe take a detour to Snus Hill Winery, and hang out on that overlook ... after putting bug spray on.

A day full of firsts

I had two good reasons not to commute by bike yesterday: scattered thunderstorms and a slow leak in my back tire.

But I did it anyway and am disproportionately proud of myself for it.

The light rain on my way to work wasn't much of a problem. I tossed everything that needed to stay dry into a clean cat-litter tub and congratulated myself on a first successful commute in the rain. (It's been a very lucky two months.)

The leak was a little bit more of an issue. It was slow enough that I knew I could pump the tire up right before leaving and arrive with plenty of pressure left.

After that, though, I'd need expert guidance on how to patch or replace the tube. Fortunately, my bike-mechanic boyfriend was only a block away.

It was the perfect opportunity for me to finally try doing it myself — we weren't on a trail with bugs swarming us, or in a hurry to get somewhere.

So after three years of owning a road bike, I did it, with Cory talking me through it and lending a hand (literally) at times, and I'm confident that I could do it by myself if need be.

Granted, it would take much longer and involve much more struggling. That's fine. It's preferable to being afraid to take a long ride by myself, to feeling powerless, to hoping a friendly expert happens to be nearby in case of a flat.

With that done, I was ready to ride home — and the rain was ready to begin again. This was no light drizzle; it was a steady stream that, by the end, stung my forearms and clouded my vision.

Honestly? It was kind of fun, especially because home was at the end of a 1.5-mile-ish ride. (Much more fun than being 10 miles away.)

It also might've been excellent training for tomorrow's Bacoon Ride, if the forecasts are right.