A Window of Opportunity

Believing in the local weather forecasts is risky business.  It is supposed to rain every day this week -- but not all day long every day.  There was a line of showers just beginning to clear our area when I got up this morning and it looked like a clear slot might move in behind it.  I passed up the group walk this morning, hoping that the streets would dry up enough for a bike ride by lunch time.  It was overcast but dry around 11:30,  there was no rain close by, so I took the chance and rode.  We'd been warned that if the sun came out it could fuel afternoon thunderstorms.  No sun, no problem.  I got as far as Dunton Park along Lake Mac without seeing any real sun .

 The walkway looks interesting, but it isn't bicycle friendly.  At least the lake is visible this time of year.

(Bicycle leaning against an object for photographic purposes, disembodied hand not necessary.)

 Tulip Time festivities begin this weekend, so this was my last chance to check out the state of the blooms without having to dodge busloads full of tourists.  The orange net around the flower beds is to keep the deer from eating the tulips.  These nets were protecting very few, very small leaves and a few stems.  No flowers.  There was some sun and a little bit of blue sky showing up by this point.  Even so, I continued on -- circling under the River Avenue bridge and through the new entrance to the Window on the Waterfront Park.  Some of the tulip beds had  the orange netting removed, and sure enough, there was evidence of deer damage.  (The Bambi like pests have eaten my tulips as well, so this was not a surprise.)

The only flowering tulips that I saw were around the statues of the Dutch immigrants -- and by now the overcast and haze had returned.  I wasn't sure if this was a good sign or not, but I'd done what I set out to do -- check out the degree of tulip readiness in downtown Holland.  Or close enough.  Time to head for home.

I made it home dry, but it was a closer call than I expected.  I took the photo above within a half hour of getting back, and this storm cell had some hail in it by the time it got here. We're currently under one of those "take shelter in a sturdy structure" warnings.  It's probably a good thing that my fitness level prevented me from riding much further.

Ransom and Tunnel Parks

Waiting for warm weather to arrive seems futile.  If that old story that Dad used to tell about snow on the Fourth of July was true, who knows if summer will ever arrive?  If I want to ride at all this season, I'm going to have to make use of that mountain of bike gear that I have accumulated over the last 20 years.  Ransom Park is a nice distance from here for a cold weather ride, so I pumped Ruby's tires, dressed warmly and bit the bullet.  It's "almost" five miles to this point--

An hour on the bike seemed like enough, given it was 45 degrees or so, with a brisk NW wind, so this was my turn around point.  Since "almost 5 miles" times two gives me just under 10 miles, I had to swing through Tunnel Park on the return trip.  A little loop to round up the miles.

 I am pleased to report sand out at the tunnel.  It must have been recent, since the piles of sand are still there.  It seems likely that it will be used to refurbish the "running down the dune" dune.  (There is another pile of sand of about half the size of this one on the other side of the sidewalk.)  Here's photographic evidence of an open tunnel.

The process of digging out is not yet complete -- there's a lot of clean up still to be done.  There are benches and stairs that need to be uncovered.  It's not my job, though.  There are men for that, I believe.  I'd done enough for one day, though.  An hour on the bike this afternoon plus a 45 minute walk this morning.  I'm calling it good.

Ice Out

I'm going to call "ice out" on my beach, though not on the lake, effective today.  Yesterday morning this was the view from my deck:

As you can see, the amount of ice just off shore has diminished considerably from the sand mountains of two weeks ago (photo at the top of the blog.)  Progress, but still plenty of ice out there.  This morning I woke up to the sight of the lake clear of ice, except right along the shoreline.

Here's a zoomed version of a piece of the shoreline.

This is about the amount of ice that was bobbing against the seawall on the day we closed on the purchase of this place.  Ice out occurred a full 7 days earlier that year -- 17 years ago -- and stood as the record last day for ice until this year.  Speaking of "ice out," the neighborhood has a little contest/betting pool going on, to see where the last bit of snow pack will linger the longest.  Two of the three most likely spots are quite near our house.

 This isn't either one of them, but it fits into the theme.  This snow pack is on the corner of Quincy and Lakeshore, taken on an Easter Sunday bike ride.  The photo below was taken on the same ride -- with enough snow still on the dune to qualify for this post.

Yesterday was nice enough for me to have ridden, but the walking group was ambitious -- north along the beach to James Street, up and over the dune to the street, and back on Lakeshore.  Three miles or so -- doesn't sound like a lot, except that the first half was on sand.  That's about the same distance as the death march, if I remember correctly.  (Which I rarely seem to do.)  I'm taking today off to rest my legs -- tomorrow I'll be helping the College Girl move some of her stuff out of her dorm.  Her last final is at 8 am tomorrow.

Slow Melt

The newly retired Professor returned from a visit to the west coast a day or so ago, and the group walks have resumed.  This morning's walk was the first beach walk I've taken with the group since December and while it wasn't exactly wintery down there, we still can't announce "ice out."  Prior to this year, the latest date I've seen ice on my beach was April 15th, way back in 1997.

It was actually quite pleasant along the water, with just a very light wind from the north.  Tracks in the sand indicate that there have been a few deer down there recently, but I have not yet seen any.  We didn't quite make it all the way to James Street, but were well past Lakewood when we made the decision to turn around.  It currently looks like tomorrow it just might possibly be reasonable to take a bike ride.

Fog

The college girl was here this weekend.  Her brother was off visiting people on the other side of his family for the last part of his Spring Break.  The two of us walked the neighborhood streets after supper last night -- I had heard reports that the deer herd was on the move, but we saw no signs of them.  It was a fairly mild night, though winter coats are still useful here.  A storm system rolled through about 20 miles north of us, causing quite a bit of wind and hail damage, and though we carried an umbrella with us, we never used it for anything other than fake dueling with imaginary monsters.

This morning the fog rolled in early, and we headed down to the beach to survey its condition --  we lost a couple of the railings on our stairs, but otherwise the only change is the predictable loss of beach from higher water levels and the usual resculpting of the fore dunes by Old Man Winter.

Visibility never improved much, and though we did walk as far as Tunnel Park, I can't prove it from my photos. This is the stairway up to the Parthenon, lost in the fog.  I talked to OSLO on the phone when we got back from our walk, and the weather report from there was "bright sunshine."  What a difference a few miles make.

The college girl had homework to do, so had to leave this afternoon.  We always enjoy her visits -- and I'm a lot more likely to get outside for some exercise when one of the Grands is here. With snow in the forecast for tomorrow, it looks like a slow start to biking season.

Bike number 2.

Before I get to the bicycle content, I need to air a complaint that I have with Mother Nature.  You may have noticed the new photo at the top of my blog, taken last weekend of the Sand Mountains behind (in front of?) our house.  Here's how it looked just a little while ago:

The April sun is making progress, and I was okay with all the ice -- after all, it was a bad winter with a record level of ice coverage (about 94%) on Lake Michigan.  Then I visited a government (NOAA) website that JB checks regularly that shows satellite photos of the various great lakes.  Yes, indeed.  All of the ice that remains on the southern half of Lake Michigan has parked itself behind (in front of?) our house, and apparently intends to stay there until it melts.  Really????? Okay -- so it extends from Grand Haven to Saugatuck, but the Muskegon harbor webcam shows next to no ice at all there.  Sigh.  Today's high temperature was 44 at the lake, and 61 inland.  Light winds, thankfully, so heading inland for a bike ride was a successful strategy.

Yesterday GZ mentioned that he was riding his winter bike, which reminded me that I have one of those.  It used to live in the basement at the other house, and spent the last 5 months in a closet in the bike room here with two other bikes.  (Yes, I'm down to just 4 bikes.)  It has less than 350 miles on its odometer, hasn't been ridden for years, but was an interesting bike to ride if I remember correctly.  It's a solid bike, with a squishy front fork.  I rode it today -- and it is still an interesting bike to ride.  Notice what's behind the rear wheel?

This was my first sighting of crocus this spring.  The warm rain forecast for this weekend should bring out a few more, and hopefully melt some ice.

I rode by here -- the first time I've been anywhere near it since we sold it.  Except for the strange car parked in the driveway, it looks pretty much the same as always.  I made it home and back up the hill under my own power, helped a bit by the low gearing on that bike.  My fitness level is low, but I knew that.  Biking is hard work.

SW wind at 30, gust 37.

It is perhaps just as well that I didn't check the weather channel before I left.  I knew it was windy, but I wasn't planning to ride very far today.  The first Michigan ride of the year was on Ruby, and I wanted to be sure that her tires were holding air -- they seemed a little low this morning, after pumping them up yesterday.  I mostly wanted to get in a shake down ride before the rain moved in this afternoon.

 My last ride in Florida was on March 9, so whatever level of biking fitness I acquired there is long gone.  I even gave myself permission to walk up the Idlewood hill on the way home, but at the last moment declined to take advantage of my generous offer.  I might even get in another ride or two fairly soon if the weather holds up.   My walking partners are all out of town until sometime next week, and while I am quite fine with solitary bike rides, walking is an activity that requires company.  (To mitigate the boredom.)

Some photos from a Sunday walk.

TJ and I went down our stairs to the beach today to measure the amount of snow at the base of the stairs.  There is currently about 33 inches, but it is hard packed and -- so far -- it holds our weight and we could walk across it.

Since we were already down there, we continued on to see what things looked like from the lake side at Tunnel Park.

TJ referred to the hills of snow/ice/sand as the Sand Mountains.  They're much more impressive in real life.

 The lake end of the tunnel is completely open, and at first glance, it didn't look too bad.  However, as TJ walked through the tunnel, the amount of head room diminished  substantially until he was bent in half.

 I believe his exact words were "Holy crap."  Indeed.

It's certainly pretty down there, but even a light breeze over the Sand Mountains was chilling.

Spring feels a lot like winter.

I took part in our group walk again this morning, with the usual group of three plus one (dog).  We didn't get the kind of snow here that MN got this week, but we still have quite a bit of snow on the ground -- especially in shady locations.  This photo was taken from the park side of the tunnel in Tunnel Park.  There is about  a three foot clearance between the top of the tunnel and the path through the tunnel.  It's hard to tell how much is snow and how much is sand.

I'd like to see what the other end of the tunnel looks like, but the beach is not easily accessible at this point.  The beach itself is clear, as are the stairs down our dune, but there is a wide basin filled with snow of an indeterminate depth between the bottom of the stairs and where the sand begins.  TJ and I may go down the stairs with a yard stick or pole of some sort to check it out, but for now I am cut off from the beach.

Birthday Week

April always seems to bring us both rain and birthdays. JB and I drove up the shore this afternoon to wish our favorite Granddaughter a happy birthday.  It was blowing and snowing on my drive north on the day she was born, and today's weather was pretty similar.  Pretty much everything except the weather has changed since then, of course.  I took a couple of photos of JB with his gene pool to capture the moment and their laughter.

Hers is the first in a series of family birthdays this month, followed by Unky Herb, Mrs. Smith and the Prairie Princess.  I seem to remember a story about snow and the birth of the Prairie Princess, too.

In the 17 years that we've owned this house, the latest that I can remember there being ice on the lake is April 15th, the day we bought it.  It's melting fast, but I'm guessing that it will still be here in 11 days.