Reading

Meditations from the Breakdown Lane: Running Across America by James E. Shapiro. The author recounts his run from Dillon Beach, California (north of San Francisco) to New York City in 1980. This is a re-read. It’s my favorite book title. As you might expect, Shapiro encountered physical (muscle cramps and atrophy, and a debilitating infection in his ankle), mental (monkey mind out the wazoo), and pre-cellphone logistical challenges (at one point he rented a car to place caches of food and water along his route out west). Having since ridden across the country three times, I appreciated this book in a different way from when I first read it 42 years ago. You know you’re tired when you start doing the math in your head. If you think about the totality of the day or, god forbid, the entire distance, you’ll break your brain. Shapiro refers to himself as a “journey runner”. I like the ring of that.

A Keeper by Graham Norton. My third novel this year by Irish talk show host Norton. Another wonderful book set in small town, rural Ireland. Elizabeth goes to Ireland to deal with the affairs of her late mother. Her life, her identity, goes off the rails as she learns the circumstances of her birth. As with his first novel, Frankie, and his most recent, Holding, Norton drew me into his fictional world page after page. I have two more of his novels to go and am very much looking forward to them.

Watching

DareDevil Born Again, Season 2 – When I was a kid, I bought the very first DareDevil comic, so I have bragging rights. This Marvel series is very violent, much more so than the Marvel movies. People are shot at point blank range, thrown off buildings and go “THUD”, get shards of glass stuck in their heads, and have their head crushed. The mayor of New York, played by Vincent D’Onofrio, is a Trump-like character who turns the city into a police state for his own financial gain. Blind Hell’s Kitchen attorney Matt Murdock does what he can to oppose the mayor’s fascist rule, both as DareDevil and as a skilled lawyer. Like all good heroes, he operates by a code of personal honor, in this case informed by his Catholic faith. Charlie Cox as Murdock/DareDevil and D’Onofrio are excellent. The supporting cast is also outstanding. One more episode to go.

The Washington Nationals: I haven’t been to a game yet, but from seeing them on TV this is a team destined for mediocrity. They are a couple of top-tier pitchers, an elite catcher, and one more big bat from being playoff worthy. With appropriate expectations, I expect to enjoy this team for the next several months.

Riding

Because of a wedding in Wilmington, NC and a funeral in Albany, NY I put far more miles on cars than I did my bike. I managed to squeeze in 656 miles in 22 days of riding. The Mule did the lion’s share, clocking in at 364 miles. The Tank (my CrossCheck) contributed 258 miles. Little Nellie made a couple of guest appearances at 34 miles. Big Nellie is gathering dust in the basement and will be freed to roam the roads in a matter of days.

Another reason for my low mileage was a yard project. I had a weed tree removed from the front yard. After the stump was ground, I excavated the chipped wood and used it as mulch in the back yard. Today, 36 bags of top soil were delivered. The driver placed the bags around the perimeter of the stump hole. All I had to do was cut them open, spread the dirt, and tamp it down. I planted grass seed and now I will water and wait.

For the year, I stand at 2,958 miles. I am on pace for 9,000 miles. Since I have non-biking events in late May, June, and July, it appears I will not be doing a long tour this year.

For the last ten or 15 years we’ve had a silver maple tree growing next to our driveway. My daughter calls it our weed tree; we didn’t plant it. From past experience we know that the surface roots of silver maples eventually take over your entire yard. They can also destroy your walkways, sidewalks, and driveway. I spent most of a summer about 25 years ago removing the surface roots of a much larger silver maple in our backyard. My kids were giving out online name for our AOL mail and dubbed me Rootchopper.

Last year I hired a lawn service and after a year the lawn looks terrific, except for the maple roots. Before any more damage happens, we hired our tree guy to take the weed tree down. Using a chain saw attached to a long pole, he had the tree down to a stump in less than 20 minutes. His crew cut up most of the stump before using a stump grinder to take care of the rest. This left a big pile of maple bark mulch where the tree once stood.

Over the last three days I’ve been digging out the mulch and pitching it in the gardens around the perimeter of our back yard. This took about five hours. The weather cooperated, sort of. Temperatures were about 20 degrees F higher than normal.

The next step is to fill the gash in the lawn with topsoil, and plant grass. I hate taking trees down. To make amends to the tree gods, we are going to plant a pin oak tree that will, someday in the 2030s, provide shade to the south facing side of the front of our home. We have a volunteer pin oak in the perimeter garden that just might fill the bill. It’s about three years old which means in a year or two it will be 10 or 15 feet tall.

As much of a hassle as this project has been, the warm weather means I will be done with most of the early summer yard work before the start of summer.

Watching

The TransAmerica Bike Route – The Full Movie by Mat Ryder. A condensed video (albeit three hours long) of the long series of Mat’s epic ride from coast to coast.

Washington Nationals Baseball – On the eve of Game 1 of the season, my cable provided announced that it will be carrying Nats games again. They’ve won 3 of their first 4 games but I have faith that they will lose at least 100 games this season.

Reading

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin. The story of the life-long friendship of Sam and Sadie, two video game developers. Sounds boring but it made best sellers lists for months for good reason. In an odd way, it reminded me of Normal People. Zevin really makes you care about these two, as well as their friends, lovers, family members, and business associates. In video games, you die until you re-start the game. Real life not so much.

The Memory of Running by Ron McLarty. The story of Smithy Ide, a middle-aged, obese drunkard who decides to ride his bike from East Providence RI to Los Angeles to claim the remains of his beloved, mentally ill sister. McLarty was a character actor back in the 70s, 80s, and 90s. This is his debut novel that I first read in 2006. It’s quite good but extraordinarily depressing.

The Birth of the Erie Canal by Harvey Chalmers II. This is a brief history of the various concepts that evolved into the Erie Canal, the early 19th century moon shot that transformed the economies of New York and the rest of the United States and Canada. The original idea was to connect central New York to the Hudson River and Lake Ontario by cleaning up rivers and creeks. This idea would have limited cargo volume because the canal boats called bateaux would have had to be small enough to navigate the shallow waters. Eventually Gouverneur Morris promoted the concept of a waterway that would travel down an “inclined plane” from Lake Erie to the Hudson. Ultimately this was rejected for a level waterway with lift locks. The political pushing and pulling went on for over 25 years. Although the book was published in 1960 (when I was in Kindergarten), the author autographed my copy: “To John, I hope you enjoy the book.” I have no recollection of meeting him and wonder if “John” might be one of my upstate New York cousins.

How the Irish Built the Erie by Harvey Chalmers II. This 1964 history of the construction of the canal follows the efforts of Irishman J. J. McShane, the primary contractor tasked with building the canal. McShane with the significant help of his right hand, Pippa Post, used mostly Irish convicts from New York City as laborers on the project. The story is bogged down by detailed descriptions of various engineering methods, many improvised, to overcome the swamps and rocky hills that the canal traversed. Bitterly cold and snowy winters and malarial swamps made for additional challenges. Chalmers is a champion of Post, who earned the respect of the all-male workers with her multiple talents from cooking, providing makeshift shelters, supervising, and skill with two long knives she kept in scabbards under each arm to keep the workers in line.

Riding

I fell just short of 900 miles for the month reaching 889 miles on the last day. My longest ride, 52 miles. was to and from the Kenwood neighborhood of Bethesda, Maryland where I viewed cherry blossoms that were truly amazing. Last March I did several longer rides in preparation for my tour of the Natchez Trace. This year’s 52-miler damned near did me in.

My bikes took me some interesting places this month. On one day I ride to Capitol Hill to participate in a ride to protest the threatened removal of a cycletrack near the Washington Monument. The next day I rode back to the Hill to check out the purported best Italian sub in the area. It did not disappoint.

I rode 363 miles on my CrossCheck, hoping to convince my body that this bike should remain in my stable. I have a new stem on order and if that doesn’t help with my various aches and pains, this bike will be donated to charity. The remaining 367 miles this month came on my trusty Mule. For the year, I have managed to ride 2,302 miles, a little over 100 miles less than last year.

The highlight of the month was the emergence of blooms and flowers. Cherry trees, weeping cherries, crocuses, daffodils, tulips, eastern red buds, forsythia. DC puts on quite a show in the springtime.

I rode my CrossCheck today to Long Bridge Park, located about 12 miles north of home. Long Bridge Park is situated aside the main rail line that crosses the Potomac River to link DC with points south. The rail crossing currently is being expanded which will eliminate a major pinch point for Amtrak, commuter rail, and freight traffic. Next to the new Long Rail Bridge will be a new pedestrian and bicycle bridge.

This morning I saw a picture of a line of cherry trees in bloom in the park on social media so naturally I had to go see it for myself. I arrived to see that none of the trees in question were in bloom. The Internet lied! (Who knew?) I continued past the trees to the northern end of the park where I saw something unexpected.

The construction crew had taken down all the trees on the north end of the park that had obscured the view of the river crossing. The new rail line will leave the park, cross the George Washington Parkway and the Potomac River before land fall in East Potomac Park on the DC side.

I turned for home and rode back south and picked up the Mount Vernon Trail at the southern end of Old Town Alexandria. The path lies immediately between the Parkway and the Potomac. I noticed on the grass between the trail and highway a large black shard of plastic autobody. I didn’t give it a second thought until I passed another large dark object in the grass. It was a huge beaver. Judging from the condition of the carcass and the small number of flies lighting it, I guessed the poor critter had been dead only a half hour or so. Apparently, the beaver had been hit by a black car while crossing the Parkway. Dan

Most of February featured temperatures that were well below normal. It was not a lot of fun but I am grateful to no longer live in Providence which was pounded by a bomb cyclone and buried under nearly three feet of snow.

Watching

Frankenstein – The Netflix movie has great set design. They had the good sense not to use the words “It’s alive.” Entertaining, if overlong. Jacob Elordi was nominated for an Academy Award for playing the monster.

The Winter Olympics – mostly boring. Annoying commentary. I did enjoy the antics and skating of Alysa Liu and the Quad God. Lyndsey Vonn is a fool.

The Super Bowl – Mostly boring. Bad Bunny was far more interesting than the game. I drank two beers, my entire alcohol consumption for the month. I am a lush.

The Walk for Peace – A group of Thai monks walked 2,300 miles from Fort Worth to DC to promote peace and mindfulness and compassion. We stood in the freezing cold for over 90 minutes a half mile from home as the monks walked by. Just utterly inspiring.

On Becket by Bill Irwin. This was a lecture and performance at DC’s Shakespeare Theatre by Irwin, an actor who revitalized clowning in the 1980s with his performance of The Regard of Flight. At the advanced age of 75 or so, he still has an amazingly elastic body, and we were pleased to learn, voice. He has performed Waiting For Godot (emphasis on the first syllable) countless times. He spent about a third of this performance discussing and acting out various parts of Godot. We could have done with less lecturing and more clowning but I’m glad I finally got to see one of my favorite performers in the flesh.

Just Pedal: A Woman, a Bike, and the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route by Katrina Hase. The tale of a woman’s mostly solo trip from Jasper, Alberta to Antelope Wells, New Mexico. I am in awe of her ability to carry so much stuff on her bike! I also watched her video about biking in the Grand Canyon of Pennsylvania, a ride that is on my to do list.

Man on the Run – A documentary by and about Paul McCartney covering the decade after the Beatles broke up. Really only for hard core fans but its honesty surprised me. A few things get short shrift, For example, neither “Another Day” nor his collaboration with George Martin on Live and Let Die are mentioned.

Reading

I Who Have Never Known Men by Jacqueline Harpman. The first person account of a woman who lives inexplicably imprisoned in a cage with 39 other, older women. In the beginning it reads like a Twilight Zone episode but it morphs into a story somewhat akin to Cormac McCarthy’s The Road. It’s a short book that will resonate with the reader more than a multivolume saga. Definitely one for the re-read shelf.

Stoner by John Williams. A mid-60s novel that oddly appeared in a bunch of online lists of favorite books of 2025. It’s about the life and times of an English professor caught in a dysfunctional, loveless marriage and working in a toxic English department. It brought to mind the ruthless and childish behavior of some professors I knew in grad school. At 70 years of age, I found the long description of Stoner’s death unsettling. Very well written and engrossing none the less.

Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan. A re-read of a 2024 Christmas gift book, one of my favorite books of the past decade. This novella is set in the mid-1980s in small town Ireland at Christmas time. A father of five girls encounters the horrors of the town’s Catholic facility for wayward girls. A wonderfully written story that packs more into fewer words than books five times as long.

Foster by Claire Keegan. Another perfect novella by Keegan about a young Irish girl who is taken to stay for a while with her childless relatives during her mother’s pregnancy. What Keegan does with few words is amazing.

The God of the Woods by Liz Moore. A missing-persons mystery set in the Adirondacks in the 1960s and 1970s. A very entertaining, layered tale of two siblings gone missing, 14 years apart, from a summer camp and adjacent vacation home in the woods. I’ll be on the look out for more books by Moore.

Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner. I am hesitant to buy best sellers by authors I don’t know but I took a lark on this one and was glad I did. It’s a memoir of a Korean American woman, who performs pop music as Japanese Breakfast. The memoir centers on her relationship with her domineering Korean mother. They become close when her mother contracts colon cancer. A surprisingly good read that I would have enjoyed even more if I was into Korean food, a key source of connection between the author and her Korean heritage. When I finished reading, I checked out her music videos on You Tube. I had the impression from her book that her music was mediocre but I found it to be very polished and catchy.

Riding

I didn’t ride outside for the first 13 days of the month because of cold and snowcrete, the lasagna of snow and ice that refused to melt.Eventually I rode 11 days outside. In all I tallied 690 miles, 306 outside and 38.

On the last day of the month I rode outside in shorts with temperatures in the mid 60s F. The Mule approves of this turn of events.

So far this year I have logged 1,412 miles, 48 percent of which has been indoors.

If you live in the mid-Atlantic you learn that weather forecasters are, how should we put this, challenged. Last week our fearless prognosticators were warning of a big snow storm today, just the news nobody around here wanted to hear. Having destroyed a couple of shovels during the previous storm, my wife made a trip to the local big boxes for a new shovel. Home Depot? Nope. Walmart? Nada. Lowes? Not gonna happen. She called the Ace Hardware in Old Town Alexandria. They had seven shovels left but “you’d better hurry.” She made it in time and now she has a nice red snow shovel. (As Bob Dylan once wrote: All I need is a red snow shovel, three inches, and the truth.) Just in time for the big event.

Last week I rode outside for the first time since the Snowcrete messed up the roads. My first ride was rather painful but just being back on The Mule and out of the basement was a treat. I managed five rides over seven days, 167 miles. And, except for some huffing and puffing on killer hills, it felt great.

Yesterday was snow-event eve. It rained all day. The red shovel stood boldly next to the front door. Avoiding the elements, I rode 20 miles in the basement on Big Nellie. Then I drove to the BloodMobile down the street. The donation went fine but I was light headed afterwards. Pro tip: don’t work out before donating blood. I managed to give a pint but I had a headache for the rest of the night.

Usually donors receive a bright t-shirt with unsubtle graphics indicating that the wearer donated. This time, as if they knew I was coming, the BloodMobile folks gave out a soft, blue blanket. When I returned home from the BloodMobile, I spent two hours after on the couch wrapped up in it.

Our snowstorm was a bust, one inch that melted by noon. The red shovel will have to wait.

I had planned to spend the day shoveling so I took a guilt-free day off of riding. Instead I wrassled with an IRS gift tax form. Income tax software does not include this form so I printed out the form, took pen in hand, and did my best reading the inscrutable IRS instructions. (Abandon hope all ye…) Luckily, I took Anal Accounting 101 in college.

It took over an hour before I realized that the most important calculation of the 10-page packet of forms was on Page 6. Not Page 1 or Page 2, or Pages 3, 4, and 5 which were utterly irrelevant to my situation, but Page 6. Also, the IRS requires a Notice, written and signed by your spouse that says that your spouse is splitting the gift with you. Of course, this is redundant with the info you’ve already provided on the form itself but rules are rules.

Conveniently, the IRS don’t provide a copy of the required Notice; filers are left to wing it. (I found an example on-line.) One advantage of filing on paper is that you can attach explanations and supporting math so that, if you screw up the form itself, some poor IRS accountant presumably can set things right. (You do not have to supply photographs with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back explaining each one, as in Alice’s Restaurant.) And so that’s what I did. When I finished I had to repeat the process with my wife’s name on the top of a separate 10-page set of forms.

Of course, the entire exercise is just for show because under current law I won’t owe any gift tax unless I die with an estate of over $13 million. Somewhere in a cave in Kansas my gift tax form will be gathering dust just waiting for me to win the lottery and kick the bucket.