I normally pooh-pooh bike trails. Springfield’s trails are set up on the edges of our city, and designed to be driven to, as biking is viewed as a purely recreational activity. My bike is my main mode of transportation, and I admit, after risking my life biking to the chain store to get milk for my kid, I feel a bit galled seeing bike trial maintenance workers with their industrial-size vacuum, cleaning up the little sticks and such.
The trail itself is built on an old railroad grade. It’s five miles long, and is wooded for nearly the length of the trail. For an urbanite without access to much in the way of nature, it’s a pleasant change. I decided to ride a trail rather than ride around town for a couple of reasons. One is the basic necessity of being able to enjoy a ride without risking my life. That’s nice. Another is that, due to my compulsive anal retentiveness, I can’t merely ride in psychological comfort without a destination. I love doing bike errands, because it gives me a purpose in riding. Unfortunately, bike errands also seem to induce spending money, which I try to avoid as well. And so it was with reservation that I hopped on my bike and headed for the Lost Bridge Trail.