Biking to Niagara Falls

The best way to visit a tourist attraction is often by bicycle. True to form, our visit to Canada is made better when we find the Niagara Falls bike trails.

Crystal Bridges

View from the top of the Crystal Bridges Trail. You climb from the bottom of the building, below.

It’s not that I don’t love museums, because I do. It’s just that, when given the choice between studying art and bicycling, I’m going to ride.

So it was last weekend when Mr. Spoked and I visited the new Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art in Bentonville, Arkansas. I admired the modern buildings with ceilings like the overturned hulls of boats, docked around a central reflecting pool. I enjoyed the moving ripples of light reflected off the water and onto the window scrims. I lingered over the remarkable but lesser known 19th century works by major artists. But by the time we reached the modern art galleries, I couldn’t stop thinking I’d hit the “pause” button when what I really wanted was “play.” I tugged on Mr. Spoked’s shirttail to draw his attention from a Roy Lichtenstein sculpture and told him we’d meet in the gift shop in an hour.

The busy Art Trail below the parking garage connects to the Crystal Bridges Trail with overlook.

It was one of those glorious spring days when the sun is fierce but not hot, and the light seems to issue from the plants themselves. I couldn’t wait to be outside and lit from within, too. I yanked the mountain bike from the back of our Subaru, slapped on a helmet, then opened up the museum brochure describing the grounds. There were several trails flagged for cycling, but it wasn’t clear where to pick them up. I approached a guard standing in the parking lot, and she pointed to the bottom of the hill into which the museum and garage were built. But when I coasted there I still couldn’t figure out how to pick it up. So I asked another guard standing nearby (they were plentiful and helpful), and he gestured in the direction of some steep stairs. “I need to carry my bike down to the trail?” I asked, but he said, “No, follow the ramp.” It was only then that I noticed a narrow concrete ramp with two wicked doglegs twisting down the hillside. Hmm. Time to test the brakes.

A lot to read, even if you're riding slow.

Once I got to the bottom of the ramp (designed more for pedestrians than either bicycles or wheelchairs), it was pretty easy to get on the “Art Trail” leading uphill to the “Crystal Bridges Trail.” There are six trails on the grounds, three of them acceptable for biking. I hesitate to call them fully suitable. I suppose it depends on what kind of biking you prefer. If you like to ride fast, stay off them. If you don’t mind riding slow, stopping frequently, and sharing the trails with masses of people, children in strollers, and dogs on leashes–all of you enjoying the beautiful woods, waterways, and art–then you’ll like these trails. I expected a leisurely ride but was still surprised by the crowds. Things are probably calmer on weekdays, whereas this was a Saturday and during spring break, too.

Beginning of the short, steep Enfield Trail.

I rode Crystal Bridges long enough to out-distance the crowds and reach the northern terminus, then picked up the Enfield Trail, a short but steep connector. It was at this point that I began to appreciate the logic. Unlike the South Bentonville Trail, this section was well marked and hooked up with trails leading downtown and to other neighborhoods. The pavement was wide and fairly straight (perfect for commuting), although a few sections were steep by Kansas standards. I almost wished to live there so I could test it on a morning commute. But I want to stay in Topeka awhile to see how our trails system develops. Well done, Bentonville.

Bentonville

South Bentonville Trail on a misty March morning.

The Spoked household took a spring break road trip to see the new Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art in Bentonville, Arkansas–a mere four and a half hours car drive from our home in Topeka. As we headed south into a progressively greener landscape, we hoped for a long weekend filled with fine art and sunshine. The week’s rainy weather began breaking up by the time we crossed into Arkansas. Blooming redbud and dogwood trees decorated the woods, and light green leaves unfurled on the tips of branches. The clouds parted like theater curtains for the sunset as we pulled into the hotel parking lot.

Faced with a long weekend filled with too much food, most of it bad for me, I decided to shoehorn cycling into the schedule. Early Saturday morning, while Mr. Spoked still slept, I rolled the Specialized Rockhopper out of the hotel into the misty morning. It can be difficult to find practical information on a town’s bicycling trails online, and trailheads often aren’t marked well on either maps or streets. To make matters worse, Bentonville and its neighbor, Rogers, blend together indistinguishably. They might as well be the same town, but each has a separate trails map on its website. I gave up trying to figure out how (or if) the trail systems connected and decided to risk getting lost.

By a stroke of luck, we ended up staying literally around the corner from the South Bentonville trailhead. I rolled north on that trail, weaving between residential streets and wetlands as the sun began to rise. But I didn’t get far before the trail ended in a high school parking lot. The city’s website claims it connects to another trail, but I couldn’t find any directional markings. Why don’t municipalities mark their trails better? After all, streets don’t remain unmarked for long.

Thwarted from cycling further north, I backtracked south and picked up what I later discovered was the Horsebarn Trail in Rogers (heck, I didn’t even know I was in Rogers at that point). The surroundings were even prettier on this (again) unmarked trail, although it eventually dumped onto a sidewalk along an arterial. There I coasted beside a jogger who suggested detouring onto a spur next to a beautiful creek. Steam rose from its water as I pedaled alone on the wide, beautiful trail.

Later I learned the trail system in Bentonville is actually quite extensive, and well-marked in the downtown areas. Many of those trail signs credit Walmart for sponsorship (Bentonville is Walmart’s corporate home and birthplace). Regardless of how you feel about the company’s business practices, its favorable influence is obvious in the community’s wealthy suburbs and corporate offices. Affluence was evident everywhere, including the trails system. I thought of Topeka’s bikeways master plan, approved by the city but not funded, and wished we had a corporate benefactor. I’m not defending Walmart by any means, just stating that money has its privileges and responsibilities. It appears Walmart has accepted the latter, at least in its home community.

Here are some photos of the great trails I rode on in Bentonville and Rogers. The next couple of posts will deal with other rides from the same weekend.

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Girls Gotta Stick Together

Greening moss in the woods

Most Saturday mornings since buying the Rockhopper, I’ve beat it over to the nearby trails before the hikers put sneakers to dirt. Perhaps you think a woman alone in the woods is not a good idea, but I rarely find it scary. I don’t have time to worry. I’m too busy thinking about what I should be doing on the bike to consider risks posed by mountain lions, yetis, or murderers.

I always tackle the hardest trail first. It’s marked with red blazes on the trees–red for danger. It dances on the bluffs above the Kansas River, visible this season through bare branches standing like palisades on the rocky hills. I ride the red trail once, pushing the bike through the most technical parts. When my legs and lungs begin to ache from the exertion, I move on to the blue trail. As you might imagine from its name, it’s easier and more relaxed.

Nearly every ride, I successfully tackle an obstacle that had me howling in disbelief at the start of the year. For weeks I’d been ridiculously intimidated by a narrow gap in a fallen log. Then one day the Rockhopper slipped through it on the downhill, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I’d conquered the uphill approach, too. No one heard me whoop with joy when it finally happened.

Handlebars wider than the gap

Last Saturday I stopped to photograph my conquest when another female rider rolled up. She’d spied me through the trees and wondered who I might be because, as she explained, you don’t see many women mountain bikers around here. When I told her I was a roadie who’d only recently taken up the sport, she nodded and said, “Road riding builds your endurance. Mountain biking builds your strength.” She encouraged me to keep riding, and told me about an upcoming singletrack ride for beginning women. Then we shook hands and went our separate ways–she uphill, me downhill.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about her words: “Road riding builds endurance. Mountain biking builds strength.” I don’t exactly understand the last sentence yet, but am looking forward to learning all the ramifications of its meaning. And I’m thinking very seriously about going on that beginning women’s ride in a few weeks. Riding alone is fine, but riding with a companion is finer. We girls gotta stick together.