Of Wheels and a River: a Bike Ride Along the American River

...an excerpt from a journal of July 7, 1990, because some moments are worth remembering.

My husband and I unlock the tandem from its spot on the front porch, carrying it down the front steps. The day promises to be a hot one, but we’re out early. It’s a great day for a ride.

We head down the alley, take a left on 25th, and then a right on Capitol, which has a decent bike lane. At 16th, we take a right and head north towards the bike trail access point.

While we’re on the city streets, it’s difficult to get a rhythm going with our pedal strokes, but once we’re on the bike trail, we stretch out. I feel myself relax into the pace of our journey. On a one-speed tandem, it sometimes takes more effort to go up a hill than a bike with gears would, but no matter. We aren’t racers and are out this morning to enjoy the day and each other. 

So much history for us on this trail. As college students at Sac State (CSU Sacramento), we lived first at Riverbridge Apts., right off the Guy West Bridge that intersects the trail. Going to class was a 10-minute walk across the bridge. It was so close that we could come home for lunch and a nap between classes. 

We’re biking east now, towards Watt Ave. Our plan is to ride out that far and then turn around. The trail isn’t too busy this morning; only a few bikers whizz by us. It’s a good pace we’re setting, but a relaxed one. Lucky me, I get to be in the back. He has to make all of the decisions. Today, it works for me. I can space out and let my thoughts wander. 

Summer envelops us as we ride. The musky scent of oak and willow, cottonwood, and mugwort of a hot early morning. Hum of cicadas in the oaks. The tangled vines of the wild grape wrapped around white alder shrubs and drooped over the trail. It is good to be here. 

A little incline. My husband leans forward and starts pedaling harder. The interesting thing about the Schwinn tandem is that each pair of pedals is offset from each other, and the effect is of a four-stroke engine. As the person in the back, my gear ratio is smaller than his, so I pedal twice for every revolution of his front gear. When we’re biking uphill, I’m working just as hard as he is, but in a different way. My resistance is less, but I’m pedaling more. I find this rhythm really enjoyable. It’s easy for us both to work together and climb a hill efficiently, the tandem being the tool that coordinates our efforts.

“Hey! She’s not pedaling!” a jogger shouts at us as we zoom by. Funny how people feel a need to shout this at us. I can’t count the number of times I’m heard it. 

We’ve been on this trail in all seasons. The year we worked together over on Fulton Avenue, we biked in together on the tandem from our little rented house at 25th and L in midtown Sac. Gliding along the trail, we felt the magic of fall and saw how the yellows and oranges of the trees toss the autumn sun rays everywhere and how puffballs from the cottonwoods float in the breezes like fairies. We sensed the quiet of winter when everything awaits, resting in the crisp cold. Spring always meant mud and flowers and hay fever. It’s still worth it. 

We curve around by Cal Expo. We’re almost to Sac State. Our college days come to mind. Although I’m still a student, my husband finished his degree three years ago, so the phase of life we shared when we were both students is over. I decided to work on a Master’s in English, and I’m trying to stretch out the degree as long as possible. There are still so many things to study, and life as a college student really suits me. I actually hate to think about life after college. It’ll be an adjustment, even though I’ve worked odd jobs throughout my college career. But without the anchor of the school year, I think life will feel monotonous and strange.

Sac State. We dip down into Alumni Grove. The shade is a welcome break from the sun, which has become more intense with the day’s advance. After living at Riverbridge, we managed to get into College Town Apartments, which was partially federally subsided. We had a two-bedroom townhouse there for a very low price for a couple of years. It made college life a little more affordable. The biggest challenge was keeping our cat, Chaka, from sitting on the windowsill of the upstairs rooms; cats were strictly prohibited in the complex. 

Getting to Sac State from College Town was just a little more of a walk than it was from Riverbridge. You walk south from the center of campus, then at College Town Drive you take a left and walk in front of the E.A. Fairbairn Water Treatment Plant, whose front along College Town Drive was a gently sloping hill covered in ice plant, and with nests of burrowing owls that multiplied every year. Sometimes we saw the owls sitting there, watching us as we walked by. As a biology major, I enjoyed having this little daily contact with local fauna. Walking by there also usually brought to mind a dear childhood friend who had grown up to be a municipal water engineer in the Bay Area.

We’re past the campus now, heading towards Watt Avenue. I think about those days at College Town Apartments when we’d jump on our matching eggshell-white Huffy cruisers and get in a morning bike ride along the city streets to...Variety Donuts on La Riviera Drive, which changed ownership and became Varsity Donuts but the donuts stayed the same and so did the Pink Panther as the mascot. I always ordered a crumb-raised donut and then, for dessert, either a maple bar or a cinnamon roll.  I’ve had an eating disorder for much of my life, and from my point of view now, I’d never indulge to that degree anymore. But back then, it was pure delight. Even so, it’s a delicious temptation to picture mentioning “VD,” as we called it, to my spouse. Always up for fun, he’d for sure agree to stop for a donut, and then I’d be in trouble.

At the Watt Avenue bridge, we stop, sip water, and then turn around and head back. On another day, we’ll continue up to Folsom Lake. That’s a day’s trek for people on a one-speed bike. Hmmm..maybe we should pack a tent and camp up there for the night. I consider the possibility. 

As we return along the familiar route, I think back to when we rode the tandem to Davis on the bike trail that runs next to the Causeway. The biggest challenge of that trip was the leg between Downtown Sac and the start of the Causeway because navigating the streets of West Sac on a tandem is a bit dicey in parts. But riding along the Causeway itself is a delight; the air is fresh and clear, and it’s easy to make good time on the flat. The bicycle lane is separated from the freeway by a cement wall, so there are no worries about traffic. Once we got to Davis, we decided to spend the night in a hotel on the east side of town. That way, we could visit some old haunts along Russell Blvd. across from UC Davis, where I attended when we met. 

That evening in Davis, for old times’ sake, we hit The Graduate, a burger joint popular with UCD students. The plate of fries you could get there was really a meal for two. We’d finish off a plateful plus an entire bottle of ketchup and wash it down with a couple of beers. That was a cheap night out for a college student and her boyfriend. 

Another memory pops up: the even cheaper date we had in Davis. Hot dogs and cokes from the gas station in the strip mall’s parking lot that housed The Graduate. For us, it wasn’t about spending money. It was all about walking together and feeling like we’d gotten some kind of a “deal.” 

The tandem itself was a deal. We’d found it at a garage sale in River Park, just north of Sac State. That neighborhood had the best garage sales. So many accidental treasures! We paid $100 for the red Schwinn tandem. It was in good condition, but we still invested another $200 to swap out the seats and handlebars to make it more comfortable and fit our proportions better. The deeper U-shaped handlebars also meant that I could sit up straighter without tweaking my wrists. With those changes, it was perfect. We even put some collapsible baskets on the back rack, and then it was easier to carry snacks and water bottles. 

“It ought to be easy to carry a tent and sleeping bags too,” I ruminated.

We’re almost back to the 16th Street access point. At this point, the day is truly getting hot. I’m ready to park the bike and go inside for a while. We turn left at the access point, go under the tunnel and over the bridge, pass the Blue Diamond processing plant, and then make our way south, crossing the lettered streets, and then turn east, crossing the numbered streets, until we’re back home.

“Hey, you want to go out to New Helvetia and get a Frappuccino or something?” hubby asks. 

“Sure!” I answer. Sounds like a treat after a lovely ride. These small, everyday moments are what memories are made of.