Now for something completely different!

My ischial tuberosities hurt!!

After years of not riding my bike (it may have been well over 10) John and I went on a 6 mile historic tour put on by the Army Corp of Engineers.  For us, since we biked to the visitor center and back, it was probably more like a 10 mile day.  Which isn't bad on a bike.

It's just bad for your booty when it isn't used to sitting on a bike seat.

Ouch.

It was also a fun people watching exercise.  This was a casual, open to all ages, slow going bike tour.  And in our group (does there have to be one in every group?) was "that guy."

The guy who shows up in full out bike gear, with the shoes, and padded bike pants and bike jersey and know it all attitude.  He was a douchbag.  He was hilarious.  (and no, he was not intending to be.)
He wanted to know if this was the second oldest house in the Quad Cities, or he wanted to be the guy who suggested they turn the Le Claire house into a museum, or he wanted to know inane details to prove how thoughtful and insightful he was.  He had to be first, riding with the guide.
When the guide asked how the pace was, he says "When you hit 25 (mph?), I'll let you know."  ("oooo, I'm so fast!")
An entertaining bit was when he had one shoe locked in his pedal and tried to get on the bike and ended up falling over, claiming (and cursing) that he got stuck in gravel.  Okay, it did happen right in front of us, and yes, we asked him if he was okay, and helped him up.  But there was no gravel around him.  Mr. Expert Cyclist just misjudged something in his balance and fell over.
"That guy" also had to sit down at every stop because his fancy shoes hurt to stand in.
"That guy" also took his shoes off before the tour started (we ran a little late because not everyone was there and the bridge had opened, so we were waiting for people who had been delayed by the bridge), and was on his cell phone.  Once we were ready to get started, the guide started talking and he shouts from the nearby bench to hang on a minute as he's still on the phone.

Douche.  Bag.

However, there was also a very cute little old man who was familiar with post and the area and offered a great story about his father who had worked on the Arsenal during World War I.  This was before they installed the Lock and Dam, so the river depth was shallow and rocky.  He said the river would freeze over, and the workers could walk across the Mississippi to work at the Arsenal.  He also said during dry summers, the water would be so low you could walk across it on the rocks jutting out!

Now, thanks to the Lock and Dam systems, they keep it at or above 9 ft deep.  It keep the barge traffic happy.

Something else I learned was about our spinning bridge.  Or as John says: "our bridge that frickin spins!"

There are many ways to allow boat traffic under low bridges.

Drawbridge, where the bridge divides in half (or not) and rises up.

These images are from a google image search.

The kind of bridge where an entire span of bridge rises high enough above the water.

another google image gem.

And the kind that spins to allow traffic.

Span closed

Span open.  These were taken by me with my cell phone while waiting for the span to close again.

There may be other kinds.  I'm not doing enough research on it.  Mostly because I don't care and I don't need it to make my point.  One thing, however, is that all of these methods impede the flow of traffic on the bridge to allow for traffic under the bridge.

Our bridge is special.  It spins.  It not only spins, but it can spin 360 degrees in both directions.  Other spinning bridges can only go a certain number of degrees (some 90, some 180) and some can only open and close in one direction.  (they open clockwise and close counter clockwise, but can't do the reverse)

This bridge is one of TWO in the whole WORLD!  The other bridge like ours is in Germany.

Cool eh?


So I learned something today.  That should be enough to soothe the ache of my booty.