Then I stopped and attempted to locate a geocache.
Is it under there?
I never did locate it. Curses, foiled again.
Then, I happened upon this:
It's rather odd to see police cars on the bike path. I think someone was having mental health issues, so I didn't gawk too much.
Further down the path, my bladder started pestering me.
Further down, I fully expected the path to lead me to the Hot Metal bridge, but much to my frustration, there was orange plastic fencing and "KEEP OUT" signs at the Riverfront park "Closed for Season" they said, and I had to turn around. Curses! Foiled AGAIN!
By the time I got back to the port-o-john, creepy guy had left, which made my bladder very happy. I tried to find the Hot Metal by taking East Carson, but by now it had started snowing like crazy, I was caked in snow and thankful I'd worn my goggles as the snow was hitting me in big golf ball sized globs. Visibility was poor, can drivers see me? Had I passed the bridge? @)##%*I@)(*!!
Nervous Nelly that I am, I went back to the safety and familiarity of the trail. Will I ever learn my way around this city via bike?
I took the Smithfield bridge back into town and back to base. My layers worked wonderfully and only my fingers and toes got a bit numb in the hour and 45 minute trip. It wasn't until I'd changed back into my street clothes and walked out to my car that I realized how dang cold it was outside.