The GeekHiker

Saturday I decided to go for a bike ride.  In so doing, I was also risking my sanity.

Not because the bike trails around here are particularly dangerous.  No, my sanity was on the line because I suffer from spring allergies and hayfever.  Having lived near the coast for 20 years, I’d forgotten just how bad it could be.

I went on the ride because I needed to get out of the house and do a little exercise.  It wasn’t a very long ride, only about 10 miles or so, taking about an hour.  Which was followed when I arrived home by two hours of sneezing, a runny nose, and red, itchy eyes.  So, it seems I have a choice in springtime (in the Central Valley, at least): 1) stay inside, and go batshit stir-crazy or 2) get outside and get some exercise and sneeze for two hours straight which, as you may have guessed, can also drive a man batshit stir-crazy.

If it weren’t for the allergies, I might actually like spring.  Instead, I tend to prefer fall.  Nothing is pollinating, everything that pollinates is dying off… yeah, morbid, but it works for me.  Or my sinuses, at least.

* * *

As part of the ride, I rode out towards was the edge of town, where the suburbs end and a mix of rolling grassland, farmland, and ranchland begins.  It’s a bit of a ride out there, but it’s a good destination: quiet, little traffic, rather peaceful.  Since the local government has made an effort to preserve wilderness corridors, mostly along stream riparian areas, it’s also a good place to stop next to a quiet creek under some oak trees and relax a bit (or blow one’s nose, accordingly), before turning around and heading back into the city.

Looking down on one of the preserved stream courses

As I approached the area, though, I heard beeping.  Then grinding.  Then the noise of diesel engines.  Not exactly the burbling creek and chirping birds I normally encounter.

Curious, I turned to cross over an abandoned bridge, heading towards the loud noises on the other side of the creek.  As I slowed to a stop, a rabbit hopped up onto the bridge, and stopped in his tracks, staring at me.  Now the rabbits around here are notoriously skittish, and will hop away from you at a moments notice.  It was easy to see why a couple of weeks ago when, walking through one of the wilderness areas further south, I saw a terrified rabbit ripping through the brush at full speed, someone’s off-leash dog tearing at its heels.

So I fully expected this one to do the same.

Instead, the rabbit stared at me for a moment, apparently decided that I was far less of a threat than the loud mechanical noises behind him, and hopped right past my bike’s rear tire.

A few yards later, I got a glimpse at what he was running from:

The march of progress continues (this picture is just to the right of the picture above)

My peaceful Saturday morning ride, interrupted by the noise of construction, growth, progress.

I sighed, snapped a picture, and turned around to ride home…

…after sneezing three times and blowing my nose.  Maybe, along with everything else that blooms in springtime, I’m allergic to “progress,” too…