Here, finally, are photos from Northfield’s Walk to School Day, October 8, 2009. The first features Austen Chytracek, who was the first walker I encountered at Woodley and Division Street early in the morning. He had walked from Greenvale Avenue on the other side of town, near where I live. The second photo shows the lack of crosswalk markings at the same intersection.

The third photo shows all the bikes parked at the Middle School and the fourth is a sidewalk scene near Greenvale Elementary. Notice how much space pedestrians can occupy, which makes it more apparent that they deserve to have the separate space that the sidewalk provides.

I took this photo of a double rainbow yesterday evening . Can you see the second rainbow above the more visible one?

It was a great sight, following quickly on the heels of a storm that had passed overhead from west to east.

I took the photo above during a recent cross-country ski outing that took me around the periphery of St. Olaf College on New Year’s Day. As I was taking photos of Regents Hall, St. Olaf’s impressive new science center,  I realized that the sky was fabulous that day.

I like the sky’s deep blueness in the center of the photo and its wispy clouds. The sky here says something to me about possibilities, about the wonders that exist near us and to which we are normally oblivious.

I’m glad I was able to get out on my skis, get some exercise, appreciate the natural scenery near our home, and take some photos. I’m thankful that I was able to start out the new year in this way.

See another photo of Regents Hall below.

Last August my family and I attended the Midwest Recumbent Rally, which is held annually near Stevens Point, Wisconsin. The rally is organized by a highly successful recumbent bike dealer, the Hostel Shoppe, which is located in Stevens Point.

One of the highlights of the rally was my ride in the vehicle pictured above, a Leitra velomobile, which Tony Dombrowski of Appleton, Wisconsin, was selling for $5,000. The photo on the left features our daughter in front of the Leitra. That’s me peering through the window in the photo on the right.

This was my first-ever ride in a velomobile, and I kept to the safe test track located in a parking lot. Upon entering the vehicle, my first impression was how uncar-like it was. Instead of seeing a polished interior with a dashboard hiding the mechanical components, I instead was in an open cab with electrical wires and other things visible. It had a Rube Goldbergish-feel to it.

It’s probably unfair to compare the polish of a velomobile to that of an automobile, since the latter can be so much heavier. However, I’ll be interested to see the interior of other velomobiles.

My impression of the Leitra improved when I actually drove it. It was not very hard to get it started and keep it going, and it was easy to maneuver.

I remain unlikely to purchase a full velomobile for a variety of reasons: cost, storage, complexity. It’s hard to beat the advantages of the common bike – except, of course, when the weather is bad, like it is today here in Minnesota; we have frigid, subzero temperatures. I’m still interested in the simpler and less expensive Velo-kit, which puts a plastic-and-fabric top on a trike, though I have no plans for purchasing one.

Interestingly enough, the owner of the Hostel Shoppe recently purchased a velomobile prototype made by Greenspeed, the highly regarded Australian trike manufacturer. See his review of the Greenspeed Glyde, complete with pictures. It’s a darned beautiful vehicle that features a head-out design.

The city where we live – Northfield, Minnesota – has as its motto, “Cows, Colleges, and Contentment.” I took this photo of our two contented cows last August. Our son is about 8 months here, our daughter 4 and a half years.

Much of the Upper Midwest received a late-winter wallop of snow yesterday, with as much as 8 inches falling in parts of the Minneapolis-St. Paul area. Can you see the birds in the photo above? Can’t they plow the bird feeders around here?

As someone said on the radio yesterday, if this had happened one day later – on the first day of April rather than the last day of March – I’d have been less accepting of this snowfall. As it is, the sun will dispatch this stuff soon, and we can move on to the next season. At least we hope we can.

Below is the scene in our courtyard, as seen through patio doors.

We recently made our annual trip to visit my wife’s grandparents in Sun City West, Arizona, about an hour or so northwest of Phoenix. Sun City West is one of those Del Webb retirement communities, like the original Sun City (which is near Sun City West).

It’s a bit strange that Sun City West calls itself a “city,” since it really isn’t a city in the strict sense, as its web site explains:

Sun City West is a “city” in name only as it is an unincorporated community. As such, it does not have the usual city government structure. Maricopa County provides street maintenance, building and zoning codes, law enforcement and public health services.

You won’t find any schools in this community of 26,000 people, nor will you find many playgrounds, because, according to a representative at their visitors center, to live here one person in the household must be 55 years of age or older, and no one younger than 19 can visit for more than two weeks at a time.

One benefit of these rules, at least for those who live here, is that property taxes are low. “Many of our homes do not even have a school tax,” their web site boasts. Their page on fees and taxes states this:

Local school taxes can often be a major part of property taxes but most of Sun City West was removed years ago from the surrounding school district. As a result, a typical property tax on a $395,000 home are less than $1500. annually.

An age-segregated community such as Sun City West raises some questions. What is lost and gained when we separate the generations? How ethical is it for people to avoid paying school taxes, particularly people who have benefited from public education themselves?

There is an element of racial segregation to the city as well, given its special character and history. According to the 2000 census, 98.71% of the residents are white. Of course a large percentage of the workers are not white.

Finally, I should say something about the picture above. Sun City West bills itself as “Arizona’s finest golf retirement community,” and as the picture attests, golf carts are a common vehicle for transportation. Many streets have a narrow outside lane that they can use. This, at least, is something that I’d like to see other cities – oops, communities – embrace as well.

Last Thursday, January 10, Eric Johnson and I met with Sean Virnig of Rawland Cycles, the new Northfield, Minnesota bike company (see my Jan. 3 post for more on the company). That’s Eric in the foreground above and Sean behind him. We met Sean in downtown Northfield and got to see and test ride Rawland’s two bikes, the Olaf and the Sogn. (The Olaf frame is for fixed-gear or single-speed bikes, and the Sogn is for geared bikes; both use size 650B wheels and tires.) We also sat down at Goodbye Blue Monday, a local coffee shop, and conversed with Sean. Because he is deaf, we did so by typing on Eric’s laptop computer.

Sean and Eric both have a lot of technical knowledge about bikes, so it was a treat for me to learn from them. Below is the transcript of our conversation, including more pictures. I’ve re-ordered a few of the pieces of the conversation to better group topics together. One note to help you follow the conversation: Rawland is derived from the English translation of Sean’s mother’s last name.

Eric: Thanks for the test ride!

Bill: [to Sean] You lived in California?

Sean: I went to high school in Fremont in the early 90s. I grew up at the Minnesota State Academy for the Deaf in Faribault where my siblings and parents went as well. We all lived in Mendota Heights. My dad designed and built my childhood home there, [a] Colonial Williamsburg [style].

Next month I will be in California on business, so I will bring the Sogn so as to ride up Mount Diablo in Walnut Creek, 3500 or so feet. That’s Rivendell’s backyard. I know Grant Petersen personally, so perhaps he’ll ride with me.

Bill: I drove up Mt. Diablo! Davis, [California,] where we lived from 2002 to 2004, is not too far from there. If you have time, you might want to check out the [bike] infrastructure there.

Eric: How did you decide to build bikes?

Sean: I’ve been riding for all but the first five years of my life. I’ve worked at bike shops, etc. I just don’t like where the industry is heading with all the high-tech stuff. I decided to start Rawland so as to show how it should be done.

Read the rest of this entry »

Having visited Gold Medal Park, I’d say it’s a nice addition to the Minneapolis cityscape. It offers a great view of the new and impressive Guthrie Theater, which I have not yet entered. The park isn’t a tour de force like Chicago’s Millennium Park, which I first visited a few months ago, but it’ll do.

The picture above was taken early in the morning, so it’s rather dark. Notice the impressive cantilevered deck on the right side of the theater.

I came across one critical appraisal of the park at a web site called Cafeapolis.

Viewing this part of Minneapolis, between Washington Avenue and the Mississippi River, I was struck by how much it has changed, with other recent additions being bike trails along the river, the Mill City Museum, and lots of condos. Formerly the area was undistinctive at best, and its transformation is a great success.

On Saturday, August 4, our family made an early-morning trip to the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport, then headed north for a glimpse of the collapsed I-35W bridge. Sensitive to calls to stay away from the immediate area, we went to Gold Medal Park, near the new Guthrie Theatre. I had read in Nick Coleman’s StarTribune column that people were gathering there to view what they could of the disaster from the newly made hill that sits at the center of the park.

The picture above shows the view toward the bridge, magnified only slightly by the 3x zoom on my small digital camera. It’s not a great picture of the disaster, but if you look closely in the center of the photo, you can see the collapsed southern part of the bridge angled downwards. In the background is the 10th Avenue bridge.

For the last several days we’ve been hearing about Governor Tim Pawlenty’s indications that he will reverse his “no new taxes” pledge and support an increase in the Minnesota gas tax. Shamefully, the tax has been held at 20 cents a gallon since 1988. Inflation has eaten away at the ability of the tax to provide funds, and it’s at or near an all-time low in terms of its real cost.

How sad that it takes a disaster that costs many lives and hundreds of millions of dollars to realize that we need to increase funding for transportation infrastructure. Democrats deserve some of the blame for recently failing to come up with a compromise that might have overriden a Pawlenty veto, but the onus of responsbility for the disgraceful drop in funding over time goes to the anti-tax crowd and, more recently, its darling, Gov. Pawlenty.

Pawlenty is trying to keep this disaster from being an albatross around his neck. Would that he had made prevention his goal and not political reaction.

See a StarTribune story for more about Pawlenty’s political situation regarding the tax. The story quotes a poll showing that 57 percent of Minnesotans oppose a gas tax increase. Voters need to wake up to this issue too. The truth is that driving a motor vehicle imposes costs not only to the environment in the form of pollution but also to the transportation infrastructure in the form of wear and tear. A gas tax only begins to allow government to remedy the damage caused by driving.