Month: March 2013

Two for Tuesday

I had an 8:30 meeting so I had to get on the road a few minutes early. It was raining, but warm. I hopped on Little Nellie and headed out into a blasting headwind, then turned north. For the rest of the ride that blast pushed me through rain and puddles all the way to DC. I was momentarilly chilled in Old Town. That sensation fell away once I got back on the Mount Vernon Trail.

The MVT was empty today. Riding in 55-60 rainy weather is really not bad as long as you have the right clothes on. I felt superb, realizing that the wind was doing most of the work.

My office had a strategy meeting in a conference room on the 24th floor of an office building near the Key Bridge in Rosslyn. We could see the planes flying toward National Airport. They look so close to the building from the ground but they are far above it as they pass. As the meeting plodded along I could see the back edge of the storm coming toward us. Then there was a cloud burst and the windows were covered with a sheet of water. I was glad I was indoors.

The meeting ended at 4:30 and an urgent family matter sent me home right afterward. Lucky for me, the wind had changed direction. Now, without the rain, I had a second tailwind. I saw Chris from Friday Coffee Club as he made his way toward Rosslyn on the MVT. Judging from the determined look on his face, he was working hard riding into that wind.

Little Nellie, panniers and all, just trucked the whole way home.  I didn’t mind the wet shorts I was wearing. Or the fact that, even with a tailwind, I can’t maintain any decent speed these days. I will blame it on the fact that I forgot my asthma medicine this morning, not my age and disturbingly wide waist line.

 I am not complaining. Even the rain can’t take the joy out of a two-tailwind commute.

So Much to See

After yesterday’s long ride, my eyes were bloodshot and glassy. I don’t really know what was going on, but I decided to take some Nyquil and hit the hay early at 9. I woke up at 5:59 less than a minute before the alarm was set to go off. Not bad.

I expected my legs to be dead during the ride on aboard Big Nellie, but the tailwind gods were with me. I decided to check out the Morningside nest. On the way there, cars were suspiciously rolling slowly behind me. One was driven by Nancy Duley, who I normally see biking on the Mount Vernon Trail. I guess she prefers to bike commute in the rain and cold. No problem. We’ll serve some up for you tomorrow, Nancy.

There was no eagle action to be seen at the Morningside nest, so I took advantage of the winding downhill and let Big Nellie do her street luge thing. Several spots on the trail were covered with debris or water. The river had gone over its banks overnight thanks to snow melt, rain and high tide.

I had hope of spotting a bald eagle at the Belle Haven nest and I got a bonus. A pair of bald eagles, one big, the other small were in the tree with the nest. I hope it’s a mating pair.  Other than more evidence of flooding including a few rather deep sections of standing water the ride in was routine. A tall man on a Tern (a brand of folding bike, not a seagoing bird) had the audacity to pass me. He must have been getting a bigger push from the wind.  And he was going downhill. Or, maybe, I’m old, fat and slow.

The weatherman was even handed, giving me a headwind for the ride home. No worries. As I turned onto the MVT, I saw Ryan from Friday Coffee Club. At least, I think that’s his name. I suck at putting names to faces. (If you are reading this, let me know if I am right. Thanks.) As I approached the Memorial Bridge, I was passed by Chris, another FCCer. Chris was coming toward me with the tailwind and he was flying. Go, dude. Near the Humpback Bridge I was passed by Eric, an attorney at my old office. Eric was enjoying the tailwind too. Maybe I should turn around.

Seeing three people I know in quick succession rarely happens during my commute. I forged ahead into the wind. Near Daingerfield Island, I spotted an osprey overhead. He was shopping for his dinner, I am sure. Ospreys look impressive when they are overhead, but when you see one along side a bald eagle they look rather small. I once saw an osprey attack a bald eagle in Dyke Marsh. Dumb osprey.

As I approached Old Town near the south end of the power plant, I saw a woman cycling toward me. She was waving at me. I recognized her face, but I couldn’t put a name to it. (If you read this, please let me know. It’s going to drive me nuts.) She looked like she was enjoying the tailwind too.  

As I rode through Belle Haven Park, I came to realize that something was missing; the huge flocks of Canada geese from two weeks ago have thinned out considerably. We are left with the normal number of geese, and some mallards and cormorants.

I shouldn’t complain. I know where some geese nest along the MVT at Dyke Marsh. I should be seeing some goslings pretty soon. Another reason for not complaining is the fact that I saw, out of the corner of my eye, a black swoosh in the sky. I through the trees along the river and there it was, another bald eagle.  It was probably leaving the Morningside nest.

As much as I enjoyed the ride home and seeing all those familiar faces and birds, I have to admit the best party of the ride was not being blinded by headlights. Daylight Savings Time is the best. Except when it rains like a bitch. But that is a tale for the morrow.

Of Foxes and Bagels

We’d heard the sound before, a growliing, barking, bleating sound. We could never figure out what it was.  This morning before sunrise we heard it again. We had already lost an hour of sleep to the shift to daylight savings time so Mrs. Rootchopper and I were not amused. We sprang from the bed to see what was the matter (with appologies to Clement Moore).  In the dim pre-dawn light my wife spotted the culprit, a fox on the lawn beneath our bedroom window.

Well, now that I was awake, I stayed awake. I did the usual Sunday morning things and bided my time until the temperature was well into the 40s. Then I jumped on BIg Nellie and headed out.

I took the Mount Vernon Tral heading towards DC. I expected it to be crowded but I was surprised to see it was not. The worst of the crowding usually occurs between Old Town Alexandria and DC so on the north side of Old Town I changed course, picking up the parallel route through the old rail yard (now a massive mixed use development), Crystal City and the edge of the Pentagon parking lots.

I entered DC on the Memorial Bridge and rode carefully through the hoards of tourists visiting Abe. A school kids’ band played the national anthem as I rode past.  My travels took me north into Rock Creek Park. The trail in Rock Creek Park is crappy on just about every level you can think of. At Pierce Mill I left the trail and rode on Beach Drive which is closed to vehocular traffic on the weekends. The ride north is gradually uphill but i didn’t care because even with no leaves on the trees, Rock Creek Park is a thing of beauty.

As usual, I made my way to the Georgetown Branch Trail that crosses the park on an old railroad trestle. I love it up there above the tree tops with the creek and the miniature runners and bicyclists on the rail far below.

Big Nellie on Rock Creek Trestle

After a brief respite, Big Nellie decided I was hungry so we rode the Georgetown Branch Trail to Bethesda Row.  The trail is unpaved. Usually, this time of year it’s an icy and muddy mess but today it was in excellent shape.

I parked Big Nellie next to an amazing cargo bike. The frame said Bicycle Maximus on it. I bought an everything bagel with veggie cream cheese and a coffee and chilled on a bench and watched the Bethesdans do their Bethesdings.

Big Bikes at Bethesda Bagels

Refreshed, refueled and caffeinated, we took off down the Capital Crescent Trail. The first two miles were a slalom course around walkers, dogs, cyclists, runners, one fish, two fish=, red fish, blue fish.

The best way to ride a long wheel base recumbent is down a long, smooth, gradual hill. As luck would have it, that’s exactly what the Capital Crescent Trail has to offer. We cruised at high-ish speeds making sure not to freak the other trail users out. (All day today, i saw little kids stare with open mouths at Big Nellie. “Awwwwesommme.” )

Instead of heading back on the Mount Vernon Trail I took Water Stereet to K Street and rode straight across downtown DC. I picked up Mass Ave and took that past Union Station into Capitol Hill. I took a right and picked up the bike lane on 11th Street and rode that straight to the Anacostia River. The 11th STreet Bridge is being reconfigured. The renovation gives 11th Street a river crossing separated from freeway traffic. Even with a mess of construction it was a pretty sweet crossing. The bridge drops 11th Street directlu onlt Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard.

MLK brings a series of long uphill slogs. Even thoughg it is hilly and bum[y and goes through some of the poorest areas of DC, MLK is riot of activity on Sundays. At South Capitol Street I took a left and headed toward the Wilson Bridge. South Capitol becomes Indian Head Highway in Maryland. A new access road has been built that makes for a more direct route to the bridge.  After yet another long climb I came to the top of a hilland turned right for a high speed descent on near virgin pavement.

The trail to the bridge and across the river was busy but we had no troubles weaving among the folks out enjoying the warm sunny day.

In Virginia I headed into the throngs on the Mount Vernon Trail through Belle Haven Park. Two junior high aged kids were taking up the entire trail while going so slow i had to ride my brakes. Suddenly, they both stopped in the middle of the trail. I barked something at them. “Sorry.”

The next mile was slow going. Mom, Dad, and daughter were out on their bikes for what was probably the first time. For the second time in a mile, dead stop in the middle of the trail. I can count on one hand the number of times this has happened to me in the last year but today it happened twice in a quarter of a mile. Argh.

A few hundred yards later a litle girl on what had to be her Christmas bike all pink and tassled veered directly into my path. All I could think of was what happens when she meets Mom, Dad, and daughter or the two middle schoolers. It won’t be pretty. (Digression: if you have a kid who is still learning to ride a bike, DON”T TAKE THEM ON A BUSY BIKE TRAIL.  They can’t handle it. They endanger themselves and others. I know the trail is there for everyone’s use but you don’t take a new driver on the beltway at rush hour. They don’t want to ride point to point anyway. They want to ride in circles and off the pavement into the grass and such.  Take them to a parking lot like the one underneath the Wilson Bridge.)

The kids I could handle but my asthma kicked in around this time. I think the tree pollen triggered it. I was only four miles from home so I didn’t bother with my inhaler.

I rolled into home after 56 1/2 miles of smooth sailing. My windpipe was a mess and my left knee was pretty unhappy but the rest of me was all smiles. I finished my longest ride of the year on a fabulous early spring day. And there’s still plenty of light left.

Last Days of Blindness

Friday’s are usually tough.  This week was different. Wednesday brought a day off from work courtesy of some meteorological legerdemain. I took Thursday off in anticipation of ice on the Mount Vernon Trail. I woke this morning with fresh legs. I needed them.

This whole week has been day after day of  strong winds out of the northwest.  A headwind every morning.  It can be dispiriting. It feels as if you are trying to move forward with the huge hand pushing against your chest.  By the time I reached Old Town I was already sick of it and I was not even half way to DC. In my mirror I spotted a rider who eventually pulled up behind me for protection from the wind. This lasted for about a mile when the rider passed me, probably after realizing that my recumbent was too low to provide much of a wind break. To my surprise the trailing rider was using aero bars. Misery loves company.

I crossed the Potomac on the 14th Street Bridge. The wind was now a cross wind. With the fairing on Big Nellie I can sometimes tack like a sailboat. I wasn’t having much luck though.

I walked into Friday Coffee Club well around 8 a.m. and it was already crowded. Two tables were full and it was still early. I newbie came in and took a spot at my table. He said I looked familiar. As it turns out, he lives in my neighborhood and has seen me voting in my cycling clothes on election day. Small world. Welcome to Coffee Club, Jeff.

Jeff - Friday Coffee Club Noobie

There were perhaps 20 people in attendance. Many of them I didn’t know. Some I had never seen before. And many of the regulars weren’t there. I can’t imagine how crowded it will get when it warms up. At least then we’ll be able to sit outside.

I left Coffee Club in the company of Brian, who works for American University. Brian has a tough uphill ride every morning that he chronicles in his entertaining, informative, witty and grumpy blog. You should read it. It’s way good. We fought our way up G Street through the George Washington University campus. (You can tell it’s a stellar school because they insist on using the word “The” in their name.)

After Brian turned for his long uphill slog, I made for the TR Bridge. It was particularly challenging in the strong cross wind that actually made my fairing flap. I made it without incident and spent the next 8 hours working for the man.

The man is merciful and let me go home to my wife and child. Once clear of the winds in Lynn Street Canyon, I turned onto the Mount Vernon Trail. Tailwind!!!!!  Big Nellie pretended to be going downhill the whole way home.  Near the airport the trail makes a big “S”. As I turned into the S, the tailwind became a cross wind. I literally had to lean into the wind to stay upright. Once out of the S, I could lose myself in thought.

This week the National Women’s Bicycling Forum was held near DC. One of the themes was that the cycling industry does a lousy job of meeting the needs of women cyclists and encouraging women to ride. As I saw tweets during the event, I thought of all the women I have met through Friday Coffee Club in the past year. According to Myers-Briggs I am a huge introvert, so it kind of flabbergasting to me that I know so many women cyclists around here.:

Charmaine, Reba, Mary, Laura, Lauren, Kirsten, Kristin, Kate, Kate, Kate, Kate, Katie Ann, Kathy, Rachel, Lisa, Lisa, Lisa, Heather, Nancy, Jean, Jane, Liz, Crystal, Claire, Leslie, Meg, Florencia, Veronica, Amy, Erika, Shane, Alex, and Bec.

In the first 20 years of cycling as an adult, I can name a whopping total of six women that I rode with: Becca, Anne, Kate (not one of the above Kates), Bev, Jody, and Mrs. Rootchopper.  Times have definitely changed.

By the way, at least two of the women listed above had ridden coast to coast. (One of them actually did the ride during Bikecentennial in 1976.) If you guess who they are, I’ll buy you a coffee next week.

There’s one thing that I am troubled by: what the hell is with all the Kates?

Today marks the end of cycling during Eastern Standard Time. Beginning Monday, I can ride home without headlights in my eyes. It doesn’t take much to make me a happy camper.

Oh Yeah, That Winter Thing

The weatherman has gone to Defcon 1. We are supposed to get 3-8 inches of snow near DC tomorrow. It will rapidly melt, but not before creating a 2- or 3-day headache.

Little Nellie got the call this morning. I found a eye glass mirror in my son’s car last week so I tried that out. I also used sunglasses (actually a clip on my regular glasses). So I was on a vision quest. The sunglasses helped a lot with the sun at a  low angle shining straight in my face. This is the time of year when drivers can be temporarily blinded. Mostly they just keep driving and then when the hit something they say, “I didn’t see it!”  with astonishment. Be prepared to take evasive action.

I’ve tried the mirror out before. I really don’t like it. I have to twist my neck to see what’s behind me. Big Nellie has a mirror that sticks out of the end of the handlebars. (I can’t use one of these on my other two bikes because they have bar end shifters.)  I can glance at it and get a good view. I always know exactly where to look. And it’s big. My little eyeglass mirror is annoying. Two bikes passed me on the Mount Vernon Trail this morning. I never saw them coming.  I think I will try zip tying the mirror to my helmet. Maybe that will be better. It would suck if I ran into something while pre-occupied with this stupid mirror.

The ride in was another slog into a headwind. My legs seemed to struggle the whole way. It could be payback for the 6 ½ mile walk I did on Sunday.  There were no eagles or herons or Nancy Duleys to break up the monotony of the ride. I say this with a bit of irony – my bike commute along the Mount Vernon Trail is about as good as it gets. I am spoiled by the river and the monuments and the planes taking off and landing and the quaint homes of Old Town and on and on.. I long for a commute through a run down slum with industrial blight thrown in here and there.

Well, as luck would have it, nobody erected a slum with industrial blight during the day so I rode home. The wind was from the east, off the river so it was a two-headwind day. I tried not to take this seriously, but Little Nellie was pissed.

The weather was fine for the entire ride. No sprinkles. No snowgflakes. Reasonably comfortable temperatures. Tonight we may get thundersnow.  Cool.

Momma, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Goalies

After yesterday’s 6 ½ mile walkfest, I thought I’d be sore all over.  Other than a small bllister on my right foot, I think my decrepit body has weathered the storm quite nicely.

My daughter spent Saturday playing goalie at a high school lacrosse event. She went out Saturday night and managed to turn her ankle.  This is the same ankle that she hideously turned in a high school basketball game. She was doing the RICE (rest, ice, compression, elevation) thing yesterday and left the house on crutches this morning. Until the ankle calms down, she will be unable to drive to school. (Mrs. Rootchopper did the driving today, but I expect that my bike commuting will get pre-empted several times this month.) She’s on crutches for now. The upside is that all the contusions from Saturday’s event will be allowed to heal.

I left home on Big Nellie in broad daylight. What a treat! The sun was right in my eyes several times. I am going to have to start wearing sunglasses.  The wind was not a treat. It was blowing in my face the whole way to work. At one point I started down a slight decline on the Mount Vernon Trail. In spite of my faired recumbent, the wind kept my speed down to 12 miles per hour. I passed Bob (Don’t Call Me Rachel)  Cannon on his way south. He was all smiles. My misery + his glee = bike karma.

Near Gravelly Point, a cross gust nearly pushed me off the trail and into the river. I felt like I was drunk just trying to bike in a straight line took concentration.

When I got to Rosslyn, the headwind became a tailwind, then a sidewind, then a tailwind again as I navigated the urban canyon. Make up your mind, Mr. Wind!!

I wore overboots to keep my feet warm. It was 30 degrees when I left the house, and the sun warmed things up a few degrees during the commute. The boots were no match for the wind. At lunchtime my feet were still cold.

During the day I learned that Bike to Work Day registration opened today. I signed up immediately.

The ride home was as pleasant as the ride in was harsh thanks to a mighty tailwind and my surprisingly springy legs. Distance walking will cure what ails you.

The misery on the faces of cyclists headed in my direction looked familiar. One guy in particular looked unhappy. He had nothing on his head and an overcoat that seemed to have quite a few gaps to let the wind in.

I followed a ride down Collingwood Road near my house. He had a headlight that was pointed down at his pedals and a blinky light that was low on juice. He probably had no idea that he was barely visible in the twilight.  Batteries are much cheaper than emergency rooms. The dude should spring for a few AAAs.

A Walk to the Morningside Nest

Bike riding is excellent exercise. It has one shortcoming; it is not weight bearing. After 150 miles of bike commuting, I could use a little change of pace. Today, I decided to go for a long walk.

The Morningside bald eagle nest on the Mount Vernon Trail is about 2 1/2 or 3 miles from my house. Off I went with my hiking boots on. Even with the brisk pace I set, things move by so slowly compared to cycling. For that matter, things more slowly compared to distance running. I arrived at the nest eventually. I call it the Morningside nest because it is situated on the Mount Vernon Trail across from the Morningside Drive exit from the George Washington Memorial Parkway.

Morningside Nest

This time of year, when the trees have no leaves, the nest is relatively easy to spot. In a couple of months it will be almost completely obscured by green. The nest is in a tree that is about 30 yards from the trail. I brought my Canon EOS Rebel camera with a decent zoom lens. I was hoping to see an eagle at the nest but that didn’t happen so I took a picture or two of the nest and walked on. Not 100 feet later I spotted an eagle about 100 yards away, perched in a tree beyond the nest tree at the waterline of the river. (You can’t call it a riverbank here because the Potomac is tidal here; the river’s edge varies quite a lot.)

Thanks to the zoom lens on the camera I actually was able to get a semi-decent picture of the eagle. As soon as I snapped the pic, the eagle launched and headed downriver.
I kept walking and spotted a big woodpecker, maybe 12 inches in length, working on a distressed tree. I tried to get a picture but, not being at the top of the food chain, he flew off as soon as he spotted me.

Morningside Resident Bald Eagle

I continued walking to the Dyke Marsh bridge then reversed course. I took a few more pics of the nest. Now with a blue sky in the background I thought I could get a better picture.

Morningside Nest

I waited for the eagle to return but after 15 minutes I gave up and headed for home. Being used to covering my route home by bike the walk seemed interminable. It didn’t help much that my bum left knee was sending electric shocks into my leg every few minutes.

Despite the knee zaps, I made it home with the feeling that I had redeemed my weekend of couch surfing.  It will be interesting to see how my legs feel when I saddle up for the ride to work in the morning

The pix are here.

February by the Numbers

I biked 494 miles in February. All but 48 miles of that was bike commuting. I rode to and from work 15 times, 8 times on Little Nellie and 7 on Big Nellie.

For the year I have ridden 1,084 miles with 34 bike commutes. I don’t think I’ve ridden more than 32 miles in a day.

As the weather improves, my bike commuting pace will slow down a bit. I have another college safari to do at the end of the month, plus a full slate of high school girl’s lacrosse games, a business trip, three nights of a high school musical, a college student move out, and various and sundry high school graduation events. I hope to average at least ten bike commutes per month.

Oh, and I forgot, as I was writing this, a weather forecast appeared on the TV. We are supposed to get snow next week. I may get to try out those snowshoes I bought after Snowmaggedon after all.

The Infinite Bike Commute

It’s Friday. Had to get up early. Had to get out of the house. Conversation and smiling faces awaited at Swings House of Caffeine. So off I rode on Big Nellie. She was missing me after three days of wet-ish weather.

All this switching back and forth has cost me my recumbent legs. Ask anybody who rides one. It’s true. You use different leg muscles on a ‘bent. Spinning is the key. Mashing the pedals is bad. Your arms are rendered useless. They really should put a steering wheel on ‘bents instead of a handlebar because it feels more like driving, except when your going downhill.. Downhills are like luge runs. Woosh!

One of the bald eagles was perched in the tree adjacent to the tree with the Belle Haven nest. He was just hanging out, chewing on his talons, and having a smoke. Actually, I made that part up. It’s hard to tell what he was doing. My suspicion is that eagles perch in trees at sunrise to warm up a bit before heading off to the office. Eagles are not allowed to work at Yahoo.

Somehow I managed to make all the lights going up 15th Street. This is a first. I felt like the caffeine gods were on my side. I ahd to get creative at the White House. Crews closed off Pennsylvania Avenue as they disassembled the viewing stands for the inaugural parade. I rode a windy path through Lafayette Park. Some tourists were walking toward me. A little boy spotted Big Nellie and his eyes widened. You could hear his head saying, “Wow!”  I waved at him. As I went past, I heard him jabbering to his mom about that cool bike. In five more years, he’d bea tween and would be telling her, “That guy looked like such a dork.”

I arrived at Swings ready to medicate. As usual the crowd was chatty. Espresso and the prospect of the weekend perks (sorry) everybody up.

Today’s surprise attendee was Reba. Reba lives down near me, but I haven’t seen her in ages. Welcome back! Bob (Don’t-Call-Me-Rachel) Cannon was at the same table. Screw Siontz and Kirk; come to Friday Coffee Club for all your lawyering needs. We also had Chris, Ricky Lee, Will, John (Mr. Hoppy 100) and Aaron at our table.

I had a chance to talk to GOTB (Groupie-of-the-Blog) Kirsten (officially the bestest hugger at Friday Coffee Club). She keeps asking me to take her on the Rootchopper tour, the one where I summon bald eagles and members of the #bikedc community out of thin air. If I had any cartilage left in my knees I’d do a swap. I’d have her give me the Ultrarunnergilr tour of trail running.  In my 20s and early 30s I ran a lot (My marathon PR was 3:04:29. Never forget it.), but nearly all of it on the roads. Trail running sounds like a lot of fun, although I am not sure I could have ever done the 50K run (over 30 miles) that she did last weekend.

The hope is that when I ride to Rosslyn from Swings I get to go across the TR Bridge without stopping. This has only happened once in the last year. The trail on the bridge is too narrow for safe passage of two bikes so I always end up pulling over and stopping. I will get points for this when I go to bike commuter heaven.

Considering it was Friday and I was tired and grumpy by day’s end, the ride home went lickety split. (Yes. I just said lickety split.) I had a consistent tailwind so I broke 20 miles per hour on several stretches between Rosslyn and Old Town. Yowza.

In Old Town, I checked the flexipost that I hit last night. It looked none the worse for wear. I did notice, however, that it was positioned in the middle of the street directly in line with the right edge of the trail. That explains why I hit it (well, that and my general incompetence). I veered to the right to avoid a couple of cyclists cutting across my direction of travel. When I leaned to head back to the left I hit the post.  The reflective material on the post was facing away from me, which explains why my headlight didn’t illuminate it.

I managed to avoid all obstacles, foreign and domestic, on the rest of the ride home. It was another 150 mile bike commute week.

There was a lot of talk about retirement at the office. Retirement is an infinite bike commute.