Plan B

There’s been too much rain lately. Way too much. It’s been difficult to ride. Even when the rain finally backed off a bit, it still managed to mess up a perfectly good riding day and force me to pursue a Plan B. On the plus side, it also reminded me about the importance of having a good plan b in more important circumstances.

December gave us unseasonably warm weather. Unfortunately I couldn’t take advantage of it and ride because it rained so much. Between the holidays and the rain, I went almost two weeks without riding. We experienced some real monsoons during the last week of December. I finally got to ride on Saturday, Jan. 2, for about an hour. There was some residual mist and drizzle, as well as lots of water and mud on the trail, but I neeeeeeded to ride (t had been awhile…other riders are nodding knowingly as they read that). It took about 20 minutes to clean my back when I finished, but it was worth it. One of the things that kept me going was the forecast for actual sunshine on Sunday. I was looking forward to stretching my legs with a much longer ride before the Carolina Panthers game. 

Sure enough, Sunday dawned bright and grew brighter through the morning. I started out after lunch (bagel with peanut butter, carrot sticks and an apple, a good preride meal) and did my usual warmup on the Mingo Creek trail, which had standing water leftover from the rain in the usual places. I made it down to the Neuse trail and turned north. After rain, the northern part of the trail tends to dry out much faster than the southern part, probably because there’s much less shade on the northern leg. I was pedaling at a very good pace, almost 18 miles per hour. Everything felt great. Even the water splashing up on my back as I rode through the puddles was wonderful. I kept looking at the river, which was higher than I had ever seen it. The ride was uneventful until I crossed the rickety bridge behind Hedingham. The river was right up beside the trail (you usually can’t see the river from the trail there, especially in the spring when the trees and bushes are full of foliage).

The water was right up next to the trail behind
Hedingham.

At one point the water covered the trail for 20-30 yards. I hopped off my bike and walked it around the water back to the trail and kept going. Shortly after I passed a few bikers going the other way. I told them to watch out for the water. Their expression of reply wasn’t what I expected, but I shook it off. I passed a few more, offered the same warning and got the same unexpected response. I couldn’t put my finger on why it was so unexpected, but it just didn’t “fit.” I found out why soon enough.

I crossed the suspension bridge – again noticing how high the river was – turned back onto the trail and pulled up short after just a few yards. The river had completely overflowed its banks and the trail was under water for as far as I could see.  The water was deep, with only a few footprints leading out of it. I realized that the other bikers had already been here and turned back. That’s why they didn’t react as I expected when I told them about the other submerged trail. I was livid! The rain had finally stopped, but it was still ruining my rides! Arghh! 

The trail was under water as far as you could see.

 

I stood for a few minutes, steaming. I strained to see if the trail emerged from the water. It didn’t. It finally occurred to me that if I didn’t want to go swimming, my only option was to turn back. I did, and decided to make the best of it and ride south. I turned off the trail and rode through Hedingham to get some extra miles. There were a lot of people out walking, enjoying the sunshine. I also detoured over the bridge at the Old Milburnie damn.

Water was overflowing the Old Milburnie Damn.



The island under those trees was underwater
for several weeks.

 

Water was flowing over the damn and a small island near the bridge was completely submerged. I made my way to Anderson Point and rode south. By the time I topped the hill in the neighborhood past Crabtree Creek, I was in much better spirits. After all, even if I had to change my route, I was riding. I picked up speed as I passed under the Poole Road bridge and surged past the Walnut Creek trail turnoff…and hit the brakes when the trail disappeared into the greenish brown river water. Again! The water had overrun the banks here and extended much further into the woods. If anything, it looked deeper than it did on the northern leg. I uttered a few colorful (but unprintable) expressions and glared at the offending water, hoping against hope that it would immediately recede. It didn’t. So I stood there fuming.


Ran into more water going south. I was sure
it was a conspiracy.

 

After several unproductive minutes, I turned to look back at the Walnut Creek trail sign. There was a couple there studying the trail map. Evidently they had observed (and possibly overheard) my reaction and I noticed the trace of a smile on the woman’s face as she turned away. That burst my bubble and I  started laughing. Obviously it was time for plan b. So I turned and took the Walnut Creek trail out to the softball complex.  There was more water on that trail as well, but nothing impassable. There were more bikers and walkers and everyone was  happy just to be back out on the trail. I came back to Anderson Point Park and pedaled home, for a total of 38 miles. Not bad for so soon after so much rain. It also reminded me of the importance of a good plan b. I’m writing this post during our state’s first winter storm. Our power has been out since about 3 this morning. So, we’ve gone to plan b, which included packing a cooler last night with ready-to-eat food and drinks, then putting it outside on the porch in the cold, just in case. It also includes heating water for coffee over the gas logs. I’m trying to help my 13-year-old son appreciate a plan b when the electronics are limited. But that’s a different kind of challenge for another day.

Epilogue: I took another ride the following Sunday and encountered more water, along with a few bikers heartier than me.

The water receded the next week, leaving slimy mud.

I enjoy swimming, but no...