50 States in a Monsoon

Background

Yesterday was the 2026 edition of the 50 States Ride here in DC. This is the signature event of the Washington Area Bicyclists Association calendar. It was my 18th time and one wonders if I will ever learn my lesson. This ride is hard. It about 61 miles with over 2,800 feet of elevation gain though all areas of DC. The cue sheet is 22 pages long! Because of all the turns, traffic lights, stop signs, and traffic, the ride feels more like 100 miles. Each year the course is tweaked which helps to keep things interesting. The streets are open to traffic but a good chunk of the course is on trails and protected bike lanes and through traffic-lite parks.

The Route

The Crew

For the last several years I have ridden this event with Chris, Kevin, and Michael. Michael opted to go scuba diving in Indonesia this year. (He was probably drier than we were.) Sara and Neena joined us as they have off and on in recent years. We were joined by friends Beth, Taylor, Kyle, Mark, Emily, Christine, and Chelsea. (I am almost certainly leaving someone out, so let me know in the comments, please.) To a person they were mentally and physically up to the task in addition to being intelligent, witty, and generally nice to be around. (Also, Sara gives out amazing hugs.)

In keeping with tradition, those of us who follow the paper cue sheet instead of the provided GPS file, make at least one wrong turn. I managed to rack up three despite my experience. (Pro tip #1: don’t assume the riders you see down the street in front of you on the course!)

The Warm Up

Although the ride is notorious for its hills, there are long stretches where it is mostly level. The 11 miles to the first pit stop are on the east side of the city. They include a couple of short-ish warm up hills. During this section we picked off Rhode Island, Michigan, South Dakota, Montana, West Virginia, Florida, Maryland, Tennessee, North Carolina, New Jersey, and Virginia. The pit stop was at the new Bridge District development on the east side of the Anacostia River.

The pit stop took a long time because there was only one bathroom for 300, um. coffee drinkers. We were one of the last groups to leave so we knew we’d be near the end of the pack. (Pro tip #2: instead of using the pit stop facilities, use a restroom in one of the National parks.)

Up We Go

Back on the route, we headed up from the river for the first big climbs of the day. We rode up Malcolm X Avenue and then down to Mississippi only to begin a long slog up to the peak of this part of town, mostly along Alabama Avenue. These two climbs amounted to about 450 feet of elevation gain in 4 miles. After a quick taste of Pennsylvania Avenue we rode along the high ground until we descended down Texas Avenue into a traffic sewer on busy Benning Road.

Flat Isn’t a 4-Letter Word

For the next 17 miles we rode on level terrain (Capitol Hill is more of a bump than a hill). We did a couple of yards (no lie) on Minnesota, then back to and across the Anacostia. Re-crossing the river, we wound our way to Maine Avenue in the Wharf neighborhood, picking off Oklahoma, Kentucky, South Carolina, and Delaware in the process.

At this point, I started to feel light droplets of rain. Then it seemed to stop, for a while. Fingers crossed.

We rode into East Potomac Park and cruised nearly four miles on level ground. Half way! Then it was back to reality. A brief cruise along the National Mall took us to Capitol Hill. We rode a circuit picking off Washington on the south side of the Capitol and briefly dabbing on Louisiana at the base of the west side of the hill.

We crossed downtown and, after a few blocks on Indiana, we arrived at pit stop number two. Here, Chris and Chelsea rode ahead and Sara, as she had planned, went home. Onward!

The next seven miles were rolling terrain up through Adams Morgan and Kalorama. As we progressed we picked off New York, Vermont, California, and Wyoming. Rain was starting to fall. Ugh.

A DC Moment

Approaching Embassy Row on Massachusetts, we were beckoned by a woman in traditional dress in front of the Cameroon Embassy. The embassy was having an open house and we were invited in. One of our crew took her up on her offer. As it turns out, he is soon to be stationed in Cameroon for work!

Across Georgetown and the Palisades

We crossed Rock Creek Park into Georgetown where multimillion dollar brick townhomes grow like weeds. We turned right on Wisconsin and, following the directions on our cue sheets, we climb a half mile in rain and very heavy traffic. We were unhappy. And I knew that the cue made no sense. Later we learned that the cue sheet omitted a turn which would have saved us much aggravation. Ultimately we found our way back to the route on Reservoir Avenue which we took two mostly flat miles to Arizona Avenue where the fun began.

To the Heights!

With the cold rain and a breeze, we began the biggest climb of the day. (The Lime bikeshare company offered free shuttles to the top. If you look up “inane” in your dictionary you’ll see a picture of this operation.) In less than a mile we climbed 250 feet, mostly on Arizona Avenue. Huffing and puffing, I made it to the top without an adverse cardio-pulmonary event. (To be honest, I think I had a tailwind but don’t tell anybody.) The crew was waiting for me. Such a nice group of young whippersnappers.

Our efforts were rewarded with a mile-long easy stretch that included Nebraska and New Mexico before we experienced the 150-foot assault on Cathedral Avenue to aptly named Cathedral Heights. Ugh.

Digitally Rolling through Chevy Chase

The ensuing terrain featured a series of mostly short climbs and descents that were interrupted by pit stop number three. With the rain coming down the pit stop crew was itching to pack up. They asked if we were the last riders. Only then did we realize that Kevin had gone missing! He showed up a few minutes later with two Brompton riders that we had been seeing off and on all day. Kevin had also fallen victim to the cue sheet issue in Georgetown so he made the executive decision to use his phone to access the digital GPS file. In any case, my cue sheet was starting to fall apart from the rain.

Our next task was to ride to the highest point in DC at Fort Reno. This took us through the posh neighborhood of Chevy Chase. We covered Nevada and Utah, before descending to Oregon and briefly entering Rock Creek Park.

10 States in the Wind and the Rain

We climbed out of the park and rode on Alaska Avenue, cleverly the northernmost state on the route. We stopped at the last pit stop in a development on the grounds of the old Walter Reed Army Hospital. At this point we were so soggy and cold that we needed to be put out of our misery. Time to roll!

Phone in hand, Kevin expertly led the charge picking off North Dakota, Missouri, Colorado, Georgia, Arkansas, Iowa, Kansas, Illinois, and New Hampshire in four, relatively flat miles before one 150-foot, half-mile climb out of the Petworth neighborhood. At last, we descended to our last state, Hawaii. Book ’em, Danno.

To the Finish

Hawaii felt more like Iceland so without delay we headed to and through the campus of the Catholic University and down 4th Street NE to the finish.

We were given rousing cheers by the finish line crew as we arrived. Despite standing around for hours in the cold and wind, they were incredibly upbeat. Or relieved. Who can say? Surprisingly, they had an ample supply of t-shirts left. This was evidence in my mind, that we were not so much the slowest group as we were the last ones that didn’t quit during the monsoon.

We all decided that going to the post-ride party shivering in wet clothes was not something we featured doing so the crew parted ways. After all, you can only take masochism so far.

Last Thoughts

Course Marshalls: With so much experience, we really don’t need them so they can be annoying. Unlike most other years, however, the course marshals were generally pretty helpful. They made sure drivers were aware of us as we crossed busy streets and were otherwise good natured. Hats off to Ian for staying with us for the soggiest part of the ride.

Safety: Despite the crummy weather, we didn’t see any rider-involved accidents. We had two close calls. Taylor nearly got nailed taking a left turn from the protected bike lane on West Virginia. Screech! Honk! No felony, no foul. He later remarked that it was actually a good thing because it heightened his alertness for the rest of the ride. The second incident came when yours truly started to roll through a signal at an intersection on the way to Indiana. A well deserved honk stopped me in my tracks.

Mecahnical and Medical Issues

Other than an annoying loose fender on Mark’s Brompton and a fidgety clip on Neena’s pedal, we had no mechanical issues.

Chris had planned to abandon the ride when his balky shoulder became too painful. No worries, he did the whole damned thing.

As for me, I have been dealing with an intermittent dry cough. I used my albuterol inhaler (I have mild asthma) and it helped me get through some annoying coughing fits. Alas, after I arrived home I had a super painful leg cramp in the inside of my left thigh. My wife came to the rescue with pickle juice (IYKYK) and a glass of water with a Nuun electrolyte tablet. (Next time I’ll drink more water and dedicate one bottle to Nuun water.)

Friends and Other Nice People

I chatted with several friends during the day. Brian, among many other things a founder of Friday Coffee Club, is usually one of the very first riders to start. We caught him as he checked in. He wanted to finish to meet up with his wife and son in the afternoon. He succeeded. Annette stopped by to say hello. She rode 50 States with us a couple of years ago. She did the 30 miler this year. I see Jeanne at nearly every DC bike event. She is a big supporter of cycling in DC. She has the personality of a born seller which is a good thing since she works for Compass Real Estate on Capitol Hill.

For the second time in three years, an old friend appeared out of nowhere at the third pit stop. Ryan and I haven’t seen each other in years. He and I (and a different Kevin) did a bike tour from Pittsburgh to DC. in 2015. He recently crashed his bike in a race and suffered extensive damage to his collarbone and shoulder. He showed me his surgery scar. Impressive. As was, in an entirely more positive way, his friend Julie.

At the second pit stop a tall rider came up to me and addressed me as Rootchopper. I am sure he has done the same at least at one other event but for the life of me I can’t remember his name or face. (Nothing personal. My fusiform gyrus is defective.) Thanks for saying hello.

The People of DC

In every neighborhood, people yelled encouragement to us. We heard words of encouragement from people on their porches, on the sidewalks, on road construction crews, and, god help is all, from people in cars. I don’t think I heard a cross word all day. Bravo, DC!

The Folks Who Made it Happen

The WABA staff and volunteers did a great job under less-than-ideal conditions. The route designers remarkably avoided any snafus with the unpredictable street closures near the White House.

Constructive Criticsm

Pit Stops: Food was generally rather lame and sparse at the pit stops. It’s hard to tell if this is because faster riders and riders on the 30-mile route are gluttons or if the quantities and types of food need to be improved. (WABA does a much better job of this at the Cider Ride, by the way.) Ditto on the rest room facilities. Riders shouldn’t have to wait 20 to 30 minutes.

Cue Sheets: Maybe I am old school but I much prefer using a paper cue sheet to being guided by a digital device. In my way of thinking. riding is a great way to get away from such nonsense. That said, this year’s paper cue sheet was, to put it bluntly, terrible. Critical turns were omitted. The worst of these was the one in Georgetown. Two states were not mentioned at all: Washington and Indiana. (Having done this ride before I knew where they were but new riders wouldn’t.) Some of the cues were nonsensical. (Left on Wisconsin, Right on Wisconsin, Right on Wisconsin, after the third pit stop, for example. Worse, there is no cue to get from the pit stop to Wisconsin.)

T-shirts: In prior years, late finishers like me sometimes didn’t get the t-shirts they signed up for. This year there were plenty available. I don’t know if this was because of people abandoning the ride or because WABA changed its ordering practices. In any case, I had a choice of sizes to choose from. A better way would be to hand out the t-shirts at the start as is done at the Great Pumpkin Ride in October.

Please, Sir, May I Have Another

Before the day of the event, I thought this year’s 50 States was going finish me. In spite of the weather, I think I did okay this year. 19th 50 at 72? Time will tell.

Good Weather Can Save Your Life

The weather has been amazing the last couple of days here in Northern Virginia. Temps in the 70s, low humidity,, light breezes. Roll-down-you-window weather.

Yesterday I was riding home down South Royal Street in Old Town Alexandria. I stopped for a stop sign at an intersection with four stop signs. The car on my left had stopped and proceeded through the intersection. As did the car on my right. So far, so good. As I started to move through the intersection, I saw that the driver of a white work van to my right not only ignored his stop sign but actually accelerated into the intersection directly at me. I yelled STOP and the driver, whose window was open, slammed on the brakes. His tires smoked. I could see and hear loose items shift forward violently inside the van. The deceleration caused the driver to bend his upper body over his steering wheel. I made it through rattled but in one piece.

Today, a half mile from home I was riding Big Nellie, my long wheel base recumbent, down a street about a half mile from an elementary school. An SUV approached on the side street to my right. The driver had a stop sign. The driver utterly ignore the sign. I looked over and could see that I was screened from the driver’s view by the driver’s mirror. Once again, I yelled STOP. Once again the driver’s window was open. She slammed on the brakes.

For the life of me, I am hoping the good weather sticks around for a while.

Where’s My Snorkle?

Today was supposed to be one of those run-of-the-mill, 30-mile Wednesdays. It couldn’t be much further as I am nursing the remnants of my two-week cold. Out of the house at 10:30, I headed for the glass recycling bin with an empty queso jar in my handlebar bag. After my deposit, I rode a 11-mile meander to the gym where I began my second full year of self abuse on eight upper body workstations. You’d be amazed at how buff I have become. Actually, the only thing buff about me is the Buff neck gaiter I wear to protect me from the sun.

Speaking of the sun, I failed to mention that it was hot and muggy, again. I can ride forever in heat. I can ride for ages in humidity. Put them together and I am lucky to stay upright. Thankfully, the gym is air conditioned so my workout allowed for recovery from the elements.

After the gym I did a five-mile, flat recover ride that ended up at a hardware store (also conveniently air conditioned) were I bought some things for a lawn project I am working on.

Next I headed north on side streets toward the Potomac Yard Metro station. The view of the skies ahead for the entire mile-and-a-half ride was ominous. Black clouds were building. As I approached the turn-around just shy of the station, winds increased and began to swirl, stirring up road grit in the process. Some of the grit managed to get into my right eye, temporarily blinding me. I stopped to wash my eye out with the water in one of my bottles. Man, did it sting. A minute later all was calm in my eye but the wind storm was anything but. The trees were bending. The gust were coming seemingly from all directions. Drizzle, drazzle, druzzle, drome, time for this one to go home.

Fortunately for me, the turn for home was greeting with a gale force tail wind. I immediately accelerated and cruised to the Old Town Alexandria waterfront. With each passing city block the sprinkles turned to light rain turned to….a raging thunderstorm. As I rode, I scanned my surroundings for places to take shelter. During my reconnaissance I became completely drenched. The temperature dropped noticeably, making stopping a bad idea. Better to be wet and riding in puddles than wet and shivering under an awning.

I forged ahead. BOOM. The water on my sunglasses blinded me. I used my handy dandy index finger wiper blades. I was doing okay until Jones Point Park where my helmet smacked into a rain-laden tree branch. Doink! I looked up and saw cascades of water spewing into the river as they poured through drainage conduits on the Wilson Bridge.

I made my way to the Mount Vernon Trail still getting poured on. The tailwind made up for any discomfort. The handful of trail users headed my way seemed to be enjoying their slog into the storm. My attention was focused on the trees along the trail. Having made it within six mile of home, I would have hated to have a tree limb (or entire tree) come down on me. That sort of think can ruin your whole day. Runoff from the adjacent GW Parkway gushed across the trail as I continued south.

About four miles from home, the storm eased. I could see what looked like blue sky through the raindrops on my glasses. About a mile from home I sensed that I had dried out sufficiently to shop for some stakes for my lawn project. The neighborhood variety store didn’t have any but I made sure to leave them a puddle on their floor for their assistance anyway. I found what I was looking for in the hardware store. Hardware stores are generally more tolerant of scuzzy customers so I felt no guilt about my soggy appearance.

I bought six metal stakes that I managed to bungee to my rear rack. They rattled a bit but stayed in place for the last mile home. I am thankful that I didn’t clip them with my leg as I dismounted. It would have been a major drag to end my wee adventure by fall ungracefully onto the wet lawn.

Soggy but proud I came to realize some benefits of my ordeal. I had planned to water the lawn in preparation for my project tomorrow. No need! And the early Nats game was delayed so I could watch most of it on TV. They were down 8-0 after eight innings so I also got in a nap.

August 2026 Recap

Watching

The Odyssey – Christopher Nolan’s latest epic. The sound quality was not up to snuff. Many of the actor’s lines were lost in the background sound. As a whole, the movie was fine and included surprisingly good performances by Tom Holland, Elliot Page, Matt Damon, and Anne Hathaway. I was disappointed that the Cyclops didn’t descend into a steamer trunk. (IYKYK.) A good movie for a rainy day, but I could have done without the pre-show half-hour of commercials and trailers of movies I have no interest in.

Spider-Man: Brand New Day – A mediocre installment of the Spider-Man saga. Tom Holland is now too old and too beefy for the title role. I think his physical training for The Odyssey is to blame for the muscle. Speaking of too old, Mark Ruffalo is a bit long in the tooth to be playing The Hulk’s alter ego Bruce Banner. I’ve never seen Sadie Sink before and she was quite good.

Reading

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith. Like The Virginian, this novel is one that I have been meaning to read for many years. It is the story of Frankie Nolan’s life growing up as young Irish Catholic girl in the slums of Williamsburg in Brooklyn. In amazing detail, Smith describes the hardscrabble urban life of the early 20th century. This book deservedly is regarded as an American classic.

Riding

Every summer one month seems like a dud and this August was the one. I eked out 870 miles, riding 27 days out of 31. My longest ride was 44 1/2 miles which was split among riding to a protest in DC, to lunch on Capitol Hill, to a Nats game (they won in 10 innings), and then to home through clouds of midges in the twilight along the Potomac River The Mule won the mileage trophy at 653 miles as I crept toward another 1,000-mile milestone. “Crept” being the operative word.

My year-to-date total is 6,884 which is quite a lot considering I haven’t gone anywhere. I am on pace for a 10,340-miile year, just a tad off last year’s pace.

A tribute to the space shuttle Columbia astronauts at the Organization of American States that I passed on my ride to coffee club last week

Medical/Physical

As happens every year (until I die), my odometer clicked over another year. I am 71 and I sure feel like it. This fall’s event rides are going to be quite challenging, I am afraid. Early in the month I managed to shatter the notion that I might have prostate cancer by acing my latest PSA test. My PSA level came in below 4.0 which prompted my urologist to say, “You don’t need to see me again.”

Near the end of the month I nearly fell down the stairs when my left knee seemingly imploded. An hour later all was calm. I blame the episode on wearing Hoka shoes for a couple of days; they have a bizarre amount of cushioning that my back appreciates. A couple of days ago my left hip and knee went all wonky on the last leg of my 44 1/2-mile ride. This occurred a few days after I adjusted my saddle height to spare my neck from pain. These episodes remind me of my running days when seemingly every week some part of my anatomy protested.

And to add to the medical mess, I came down with a nasty cold for the last week of the month. It was my first cold in recent memory. Oddly, bike riding made me feel better. Go figure.

Family Fun

In July my son Eamonn and his Thai girlfriend Anne came to visit from Phuket. They spent several days with friends in New York City, Philadelphia, and DC before hanging out with Mom and Dad, with a brief visit from our daughter Lily who drove down from Connecticut. Anne had a wish list that included several trips to DC to see the sights. These were mostly flops because it was oppressively hot and humid.

The three of us attended a Nationals game where it was oppressively hot and humid, so much so that the dye in my brand new, red Nationals t-shirt bled all over my favorite shorts. At least the beer was cold.

InstaAnne melting on the Mall
A 71-year-old fool in PJs from the Nats game

One day we drove out to rural Virginia. We stopped in Linden to have the best diner breakfast I have had in many moons at The Apple House. They are famous for their awesome cider donuts (true) but everything else was yummy. Next we drove up Skyline Drive into Shenandoah National Park. The weather was perfect for taking in views of the Piedmont and the Shenandoah Valley. Anne had hoped to see a white-tailed deer and was treated to a close encounter with a young one as it walked slowly past her at one of the pullouts. Our next stop was Luray Caverns which is always fun and refreshingly cool. Then we stopped for food at a typical family restaurant in NewMarket before driving home.

In addition to being a master tourist, Anne is an elite shopper, Instagram black belt, and master chef (she cooked us bona fide Thai food one night and made awesome guacamole another). Being a former au pair, she was the best house guest we’ve ever had. She left a few days early to spend some time in Los Angeles with her former au pair family. My son stayed behind and chilled before taking his 15-hour flight to meet Anne in Taipei.

Autumn Approaches

The days are now noticeably shorter; I used lights for the first time since May to ride to Friday Coffee Club last week. September brings yard work, vaccinations (flu and Covid), a blood donation, and the 50 States Ride. Bring it on, all of it.

A Zero Day in August

I normally have one month in the summer where my riding takes a back seat to other doings. This year was August’s turn.

Summer’s Almost Gone: For the last several days the weather hereabouts has been sublime. 80s F. Low humidity. Gentle breezes. Every year I become so used to stifling heat and humidity that I forget when the weather starts to break. The skies do give us a gentle reminder; sunrise and sunset are starting to converge incrementally. I’ll miss my 15 hours of daylight. Soon I’ll need a vest and lights to ride to Friday Coffee Club. Sad face.

Mother Nature’s Fireworks: We’ve had several very entertaining thunderstorms this month. I didn’t see much in the way of storm damage except for one tree that fell across a road in Fort Hunt Park.

I had to walk it

Down for the Count: Despite the splendid weather I took today off from riding. A zero day in Appalachian Trail lingo. My wife has been sick for about a week with a nasty cough and general fatigue, your basic summer cold. I came down with it a couple of days ago but soldiered on, riding and going to the gym and doing yard work. Nyquil seems to work well but the day after I take it I have brain fog. So last night I went without. Despite being exhausted at 11 pm, I could not fall asleep. (I also was treated to muscle cramps in my calves. We’re having fun now!)

I noticed two rather disturbing symptoms as I tossed and turned. The vision from my left eye – the one I had a retinal detachment in years ago – was cloudy. Worse, I could not inhale. Dang. I figured the left eye thing was probably related to my clogged sinuses. The breath problem had do do with drainage into my lungs. I forced myself to cough and my airways became unplugged. I took one Nyquil and within a half hour my vision returned to normal. I crashed hard on the couch. I woke up and decided that The Mule will just have to gather dust for a day.

A Devine Task: Over the last three days I have been clearing vines and other obnoxious vegetation encroaching on the perimeter garden in my backyard. I managed to fill the equivalent of five 30-gallon barrels of debris. Aside from the fact that my lower legs were covered in small black insects (mosquitos, not ticks) it was a rather satisfying endeavor. I have another round of clearing but it will wait until next week.

It’s Been Good Knowing You, Doc: I went to my urologist last week to discuss my remarkable PSA test results. He agreed that I don’t need to come back. I’ll have another test when I have a physical in November. I’ll prep for that by switching my rides to Big Nellie, my recumbent bike. I mentioned my recumbent cure to an male acquaintance. He told me that some time ago he and his wife were having trouble conceiving. He was riding a Peloton bike several times a week. His fertility doctor told him to stop riding to see if that would make a difference. Sure enough, they conceived shortly after he stopped riding.

A little urology humor

Baseball Fashion: My son and his girlfriend came to visit from Thailand where they are both school teachers. While they were here, we went to a Nationals game on a typically hazy, hot, and humid day. We all wore brand new red Nationals shirts. I baked in the heat while the two of them went scouting for vittles and grog. At the end of the game I stood up to discover that the red dye in my new shirt had bled all over my shorts. Fortunately, fans were given aloha shirts and shorts upon entering the park. They aren’t really something I’d want to wear in public but they make for absolutely awesome pajamas.

Bedtime for baseball bozos

Country Roads, Take Me Home: On another zero day, my wife and I took my son and his girlfriend out yonder to check out the Virginia countryside. We stopped at The Apple House in Linden, Virginia on the approach to the Blue Ridge. They has amazing apple cider donuts and the food topped any diner food I’ve ever had. We next proceeded to Skyline Drive in Shenandoah National Park. I don’t think I’ve even been on it despite having lived here for over 40 years. The weather cooperated and we had a great time checking out the views of the Piedmont and the Shenandoah Valley. My son’s girlfriend had wanted to see a white tail deer and, sure enough, one came along the road while we were stopped at a pullout. The deer even walked right past her along the road before scurrying into the woods. After Skyline Drive we drove to Luray to check out the caverns there. They were cool, in every sense of the word. Our final stop was a family restaurant in the Shenandoah Valley town of New Market. We could sense the “they’re-not-from-around-here” sideways glances as we took our seats. We finished our excursion by taking country roads back to the exurbs of DC.

Beneath Luray

I Get Around

I’ve been keeping track of my outdoor bike mileage since 1991 when I bought The Mule. Sometime last month my four bikes broke the 200,000-mile barrier. Dang.

Clockwise from upper left: The Mule (Specialized Sequoia), The Tank (Surly CrossCheck), Little Nellie (Bike Friday New World Tourist), and Big Nellie (Easy Racers Tour Easy)

Total miles: 201, 469.

That’s roughly two years worth of riding. And it doesn’t include the miles I rode on my trusty Raleigh Grand Prix or my Trek 1200.

I need a nap.

I’m on a Roll

Yesterday, I drove to the doctor for my PSA blood test. I was expecting to wait the usual 15 minutes but to my shock there was not a soul in the waiting room. I checked in and a minute later the blood drawer called me back. Total time from beginning to end: 7 minutes.

I am about to send some US savings bonds in for redemption. For tax purposes, I want to send some in 2026 and the rest in 2027. This will require two notarized redemption forms. I didn’t want to make two trips to the notary so I called the Treasury number on the form and got my second shock of the day. After about five seconds navigating the usual “Press 1 for this and 2 for that” menu, I received the following message: “Your expected wait time is zero seconds.” No way, I thought. Immediately a voice came on the line and a pleasant man greeted me. In less than a minute I had my answer : a notary’s signature is recognized for this purpose for six months. Problem solved.

This morning my phone pinged. My PSA test results were ready, less than 24 hours after my blood was drawn. I went to the doctor’s patient portal which I accessed with my four-digit code (easy peasy) and saw my results. My PSA score is 3.8! That’s normal for someone half my age and the lowest score I’ve had in years. I attribute this medical miracle to two factors. First, as I said in my last post, I stopped riding my upright bike and switched to my recumbent for the last three or four weeks. Also, the day before the test we had torrential rain so I didn’t ride at all. (My wife and I went to see The Odyssey instead.)

When she heard the PSA test result, my wife said that if I want to stay cancer free, I should buy a recumbent trike. I wonder if my health plan will cover it.

July 2026 Recap

Reading

A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson. For a couple of months, I have been following a young man named Denver Camp on Instagram as he hikes the Appalachian Trail from Georgia to Maine. His journey brought to mind the hike of Bill Bryson, a comedic author who also seems to be fond of researching every little thing. So I re-read my copy of A Walk in the Woods, his account of a somewhat disjointed attempt at hiking the AT with his friend Katz. The first 80 pages or so are as funny as anything I’ve ever read in my life. The two men abandon their attempt at a through hike (doing all 2,200 miles of the trail) The book goes off on one tangent after another about the geology, flora, fauna, and history of the trail. Bryson wraps up the book describing how he and Katz attempted the last 100+ miles of the trail in Maine. Along the way, Bryson makes it clear that the National Park Service has been a dysfunctional, incompetent mess for generations. I agree.

Riding

I broke 900 miles for the third month this year. More than 500 of my miles were spent riding Big Nellie, my Tour Easy recumbent, in preparation for a blood test on August 3. I took three days off. Two of them were spent hanging out with my son and his girlfriend who are visiting from Thailand.

Touring the grounds of Washington National Cathedral

So far this year, I’ve ridden 6,014 miles, a bit more than last year. I’m on track to ride 10,354 miles. Not half bad considering that I haven’t done a tour this year.

One of my rides this month was my annual pilgrimage to Kenilworth Aquatic Gardens in DC to see the lotus and water lilies. Another was a day tour of Talbott County on Maryland’s eastern shore.

I signed up for the Washington Area Bicyclists Association’s 50 States Ride in September. I have two more in my sights, the Great Pumpkin Ride our of Warrenton, Virginia and WABA’s Cider Ride in early November.

Watching

I’m not a soccer fan but I did watch the last ten minutes of Argentina’s comeback win against England. It was insanely intense. England forgot the old adage, “Never sit on a lead” and it cost them as Argentina pelted the goal with shot after shot. I watched the final between Spain and Argentina. Spain was head and shoulders above every team it played and Argentina was no exception.

And, of course, I watched nearly all the Washington Nationals baseball games. Improbably, the team that was downright terrible from 2020 to 2025 now is in the hunt for a playoff spot. If they can find a decent relief pitcher or two and stay healthy, they just might squeak in. More likely, they’ll fade by Labor Day.

Big Nellie and the Great Cancer Dodge

I am about to turn 71 and have so far, knock wood, dodged the Big C, cancer. This assumes that all the screening tests that I have done have been accurate. (A grad school roommate of mine was not so lucky. He had a “clean’ colonoscopy that missed his cancer. It killed him. Irony alert: his professional specialty was health economics.)

So far this year I have been screened for four types of cancer. I celebrated the new year with a colonoscopy. I have a family history of colon cancer so I’ve been having them every few years since I was in my early 40s. The gastroenterologist found and removed some noncancerous polyps. So far so good. See you in 2029, doctor.

I go to the dentist twice per year. He does a thorough visual screening for oral cancer. He looks in my mouth every which way and so far he’s only seen normal tissue. Smile when you say that, mister.

During my youth I routinely had bad sunburns owing to my heritage from the British Islands. Between running and bicycling I have spent thousands of hours under the sun since I turned 22. My skin is a cosmetic disaster. I go to a dermatologist twice a year for skin screenings. My most recent visit resulted in a biopsy. The tissue was noncancerous. Just to be careful, the doctor froze the bejesus out of the tissue near the biopsy site.

Next week I go for my sixth prostate cancer screening blood test. This involves measuring the amount of prostate specific antigen (PSA) in my blood. During a routine test in 2024 at my primary care doctor’s office, my PSA measured above 4 ng/ml which is indicative of a non-zero probability of prostate cancer for people in my age cohort (60 to 70) with a family history of prostate cancer. My doctor sent me to a urologist who has ordered four subsequent PSA tests and an MRI.

The MRI showed that I have an enlarged prostate (not unusual for old men) and no sign of cancer. An enlarged prostate tends to secrete more PSA into the blood. This alone could cause a high, but innocuous PSA level.

PSA levels also increase with age. Having just turned 70, I have entered a new PSA cohort. My threshold for concern is now 6 instead of 4. Being old has its advantages, I suppose.

Doctors hate when their patients introduce some random wisdom from the Internet. As it turns out, I heard from multiple sources online that bicycling can cause a rise in PSA levels. It seems the pressure of the saddle of a conventional bike on the perineum in turn causes pressure on the prostate gland leading to the prostate secreting abnormally high amounts of PSA.

In August 2025, I repeated one PSA test after having taken a couple of days off the bike. There was no change in my PSA level. (A friend of mine did the same and his PSA fell. As they say in med school, your mileage may vary.)

In February of this year, however, I had a more promising result. The weather was bad that I rode recumbent bikes indoors for about a week before the test. Low and behold my PSA level of nearly 6 in November fell to nearly 4. I felt young again.

In anticipation of my PSA test next week, I have been riding my recumbent exclusively for the last few weeks. I am hoping that Big Nellie is just what the doctor ordered.

Summer Rides

Aside from the usual scary evening thunderstorms and hazy, hot, and humid days, July has been pretty good for bike riding.

I rode The Mule to Kenilworth Aquatic Gardens. My route there was 23 flat miles via the 14th Street Bridge. I hit the summer lotus and water lily blooms near the peak. I did about a mile walk through the gardens. When I was done, I was soaked in sweat. On the way home I took a 21-mile shortcut through Anacostia to the Woodrow Wilson Bridge. I had forgotten about two big hills, one on MLK Jr. Boulevard and another up Oxon Hill in Maryland. They put the hurt on me but the blossoms were worth it.

About a week later I drove over to Talbot County on Maryland’s Eastern Shore. The weather was perfect and the route was flat. I combined two rides from the Talbot County bike brochure. The School Days loop took me west from Easton through some farms and shady wooded areas. I passed through historic Uniontown along the way. The Oxford/St. Michaels route took me to the quaint town of St. Michaels before backtracking to the ferry to Oxford across the Tred Avon River. The ride finished with a 12-mile jaunt back to Easton.

Sunflower time
Much appreciated shade
Graves of free and once enslaved blacks who fought for the Union army
Oxford’s over yonder