Month: July 2013

Gone Benting

Several years ago, my doctor decided that my cholesterol was too high, so he put me on Lipitor. Before doing so, he spent about 1/2 hour warning me about all the rare side effects, which included nerve problems in the hands and feet. After about a month on the drug, I developed a nasty nerve problem called a Morton’s neuroma in my left foot. It could have been a coincidence, but I wasn’t taking any chances. My doctor tried several different drugs of the same type (statins), but the nerve pain came back.

The pain was worst when I rode Big Nellie, my Tour Easy recumbent, in my Keen sandals. So I chucked the sandals. The problem persisted. I went to a podiatrist and had a series of rather painful injections to calm the nerve. These injections helped some but made my foot numb. I bought a couple of remedies off the Internet that look pretty goofy. (One’s a big foam donut I put on my ankle when I sleep. Another is a rubbery thing that separates my toes. Wearing them looks as dorky as one of those cones you see on dogs after they’ve had a procedure at the vet.) They worked okay but they are not a cure.

Over the course of the last few years, I’d ride my recumbent sporadically, but had to rely on my two upright bikes, The Mule and Little Nellie, for most of my miles. A switch from toe clips to oversized PowerGrips allowed me to move my foot around on the pedal. Still the pain kept coming back.

This year, I decided to try riding with my new Teva open-toed sandals and the PowerGrips. The pain still comes back but it is tolerable. I have put well over 1,000 miles on Big Nellie this year and have ridden it for all but one short ride this past month.

(I have thought about buying some Sidi cycling shoes but this would require switching to clipless pedals which I am no fan of.)

Another change I made was involuntary. My fairing, a Lexan windshield, broke. This was probably a good thing since I couldn’t see through it for all the scratches I had put in it. Without the fairing, the weight distribution of Big Nellie is different: the front end is lighter. The steering is a bit twitchier which can be interesting. And the lack of a fairing allows for a cooling breeze, as Jonathan Winters used to say, all over my body. It’s like having a new bike. Without the fairing, I give up a couple of miles per hour on my morning hill descent but it’s worth it. (33 miles per hour is fast enough at 7 a.m.) I’ll get another fairing when the temperatures drop this fall.

One thing that’s interesting about recumbents is that you use your leg muscles differently than on a conventional bike. The more you ride a bent, the more efficient your pedaling gets. After all this bent riding, I can feel a big difference. After about 2 miles of warm up, hills don’t much bother my legs. I just get into a rhythm and spin my butt off. Don’t get me wrong; I’m still slow but you won’t hear much huffing and puffing from me.

The best thing about recumbents is that you can ride them all day and your back, neck and shoulders don’t ache. (In fact, if I am having any back problems, riding my recumbent actually acts as physical therapy.) Last Saturday, I rode 109 miles. My legs were tired but the rest of me felt just fine.

So for the next couple of months, you’ll see me out benting. I’ll be the guy on the big black rolling lawn chair with the wind up his shorts and a smile on his face.

Paul to the Rescue Again

I took a day off yesterday after a  hilly 57-mile ride on Thursday and a 109-mile ride on Friday, both in hot and humid conditions. What I should have done was gone for a short, easy ride, but I mowed the lawn in oppressively swampy weather and took a chill pill for the rest of the day. As a result of this semi-off day, my legs felt tight and sore. Walking down stairs was a little difficult, not unlike the day after running a marathon. (Been there, done that, had to walk downstairs backwards back in the day.)

My plan for today was to go for a nice easy spin on Big Nellie and see where the bent gods took me. As I made my way into Old Town Alexandria, my legs loosened up considerably. I decided to hit a few bike shops to see if they could fix a problem with one of my pedals. On my recumbent I wear sandals and use PowerGrips. These are straps that go across the pedal diagonally. Normally I use toe clips (I am not a fan of clipless pedals) but nerve problems in my left foot led me to try PowerGrips in search of relief. They work reasonably well except that the strap on my right pedal is at a steep angle, and rubs against my toes. The one on my left pedal fits properly, only touching the outside of my pinkie toe. The reason for the discrepancy is that the pedals attached to a metal plate. The left plate looks like an old bottle opener, flat with a bend at the end. The right plate as a second bend in the middle causing it to extend out too far from the pedal.

I stopped at Wheel Nuts in north Old Town but they were closed. Seven miles down. I decided to try the Velocity bicycle co-op in Del Ray a few miles away. They had all kinds of junk parts (just what I thought I needed) but no plates for PowerGrips.

Twenty years ago, The Mule, my Specialized Sequoia, had a recurring problem: it’s headset (the part that the handlebars attach to) kept coming loose. NOBODY could fix it. After giving many mechanics a crack at the problem, I took the bike to Papillion Bicycles on Columbia Pike in Arlington. Bailey, the owner, couldn’t figure it out but he said try Paul at City Bikes. I called Paul and before I could finish my description of the problem he knew what was wrong. And he did. It needed a ten-cent washer that he happened to have among his two bazillion bike parts.

Paul is now the head mechanic at Bicycle Space in DC, so I decided to let him have a go at the pedal problem. Several miles later, Dr. Paul examined the patieDSCN2387nt. “You don’t need a new part. It looks like you bent this one in an accident.” Paul is also psychic. I did indeed crash the bike a year ago and came down on the right side!

He took the right pedal off, walked into a back room with a hammer in his hand and  began the operation. I was a little troubled by the hammer and the fact that he did not sterilize his hands before surgery. After a minute, he came back out, hammer in hand, took a look at the left pedal, and went back to the OR. A few whacks later  he came out and the pedal was exactly right. Dang,

 

With a smile on my face, I headed for home. Not wanting to go back the way I came, I decided to ride back via Anacostia. I picked rode east to 11th Street Northeast and took a right. I rode over the Anacostia River on the wicked awesome new 11th Street Bridge (such a clever name, no?). In Anacostia, 11th Street becomes Martin Luther King Junior Boulevard. The MLK (very L.A. sounding, don’t you think) is an interesting ride. There are signs of gentrification with new restaurants, cafes, condos and such. And there are the depressing signs of DC’s poorest neighborhoods with housing projects, job training places, and people handing out on the street corners. Along the way, I glanced at an electric sign outside a church. 104 degrees!!!

After the first hill, the MLK descends to cross busy South Capitol Street. Here the road surface becomes a washboard. At 25 miles per hour, it’s downright hairy. (DC needs to up its game with some serious roadwork on the MLK.) Once you get up a good head of steam, you are greeted by a red light at the bottom of the next hill. Argh!

From a dead stop, I climbed the next hill, slowly. At Blue Plains Drive I banged a right and headed down a steep hill, breaking the speed limit in front of the DC Police Academy in the process. I am a brazen scofflaw.

After a couple of left turns, I was on the Oxon Cove Trail. Park maintenance has gone by the wayside this year. Tufts of grass four or five inches tall protrude from all the cracks in the pavement. Grass on either side of the trail is two feet tall.

The trail and the park were completely empty. As I rode next to the cove, I spotted the remnants of an large bird of prey, either an eagle or a hawk. There were some big feathers and some bones but not much else; it had been picked clean.

The trail enters the grounds of Oxon Hill Farm DSCN2389where it turns away from the water and climbs, gradually at first, but steeper and steeper all the way to the top. I think this is the toughest hill in the area. On the way up I saw what looked like the hoof and lower leg from a young deer. Yikes!  A little further on, I spotted a beautiful feather, from a hawk or eagle. I stopped and put it in the flag slot on my Arkel seat back bag.

 

The steepest part of the hill remained so I yelled “Get ’em up, Scout” and started to ride. (I didn’t actually say that, but I am pissed that Johnny Depp has screwed with Tonto. Tarzan is Johnny Weissmuller. Avery Brooks is Hawk. Jay Silverheels is Tonto. That’s it. Don’t mess with my childhood icons. Okay, the new Star Trek actors are infinitely better than the old ones, but that’s an anomaly.)

After the monster climb, I got to ride down the crazy fun downhill toward National Harbor, then up the corkscrew hill to the bike path bridge over the beltway. (This corkscrew design is brilliant.)

Next I rode over the Woodrow Wilson Bridge (a good place to watch the fireworks in Old Town next Saturday night, by the way) and onto the Mount Vernon Trail. Then, for reasons that escape me, I rode up another nasty hill on Westgrove Boulevard. After a stop for a Gary’s Lunchbox sammich at Sherwood Hall Gourmet, I rode home.

What started as an easy spin evolved into a 37-mile hill fest. So much for my plan. At least, I got my pedal fixed. Thanks to Paul and Bicycle Space. It was worth the effort.

 

I’d ride a century for a Haute Dog

During the week, I am a mild mannered bike commuter. On four day weekends, I am El Velo Loco. I am also bent, as I am riding Big Nellie, my Tour Easy recumbent.

Yesterday, I decided to go exploring in southeastern Fairfax County. I spent about five hours riding up and down hills. I had intended to ride to Clifton Virginia, cross the Occoquan River and make my way home through Prince William County. I missed a turn. I rode by a prison. It’s been closed for ten years but the guard towers and walls are still there. I can’t imaging living near something like that. I ended up riding down to Mason Neck, an isolated part of Fairfax County. In the process, I rode down an old road that used to cross over the main railroad line on a single lane old wooden bridge. Nowadays, the bridge is blocked off. I went around the barricade and walked my bike over the span. The wood was weathered with ruts where car tires once drove. Southeastern Fairfax County used to have several one lane bridges, twisty roads with blind curves and hills.

Temperatures for this hill-fest topped out at 88 degrees and it was muggy to boot.  I was pleased with my riding though. I never felt uncomfortable and I had no trouble breathing.

Paul is a friend from grad school who occasionally does bike rides when he’s not playing hockey, softball, selling used CDs, DJing, or going to concerts. Oh, and he has a day job too. Paul told me about a new eatery called Haute Dogs and Fries that specializes in hot dogs (and fries). They have one location in Old Town Alexandria and another in Purcellville Virginia. The former is seven miles from my house; the latter is 55 miles away. Guess which one I rode to?

Aw, you’ve read this blog before have you?

I headed out to P’ville at 8:30. It was comfortable outside but I knew that would change. I lucked out with a strong breeze out of the east. I rode the Mount Vernon Trail to the Four Mile Run trail. On the way, I passed Nancy Duley who was veloworking again.

The wind pushed me along Four Mile Run until I picked up the Washington and Old Dominion Trail near Shirlington. 45 miles of mostly gradual uphill is a little like riding a false flat for 4 hours. It looks flat but there is a persistent incline most of the way. I spun away through Arlington, Falls Church, Dunn Loring, Vienna, Reston, Herndon, Sterling, Ashburn, Lessburg, Clarks Gap, Hamilton Station and finally P’ville. Along the way I stopped and topped off my water bottles at every opportunity. At 33 miles, I re-applied sun screen. I brought some snacks and munched away at them whenever my energy felt a little low,

The trail was surprisingly uncrowded. This might have had something to do with the heat and humidity. The temperature peaked at 91 degrees, but it was a wet heat. It was not a lot of fun when the sun broke through the clouds.

There were several stretches where the trail tilts downward as it goes west. I would crank it up to 20 miles per hour. By Leesburg, it was apparent that the tailwind was now coming from my left side. No worries. Pedal, pedal.

I arrived in P’ville around 1:30. After a stop in a bike shop where I inhaled a Gatorade, I made my way to Haute Dogs, in a new strip mall in town. There are several dogs with heavy toppings like chili, cheese, and hot peppers. After 5 hours in the heat, these did not sound appealing so I ordered a Fenway Dog (with relish, mustard and onions I think) and fries. The dog came on a grilled bun and the fries had some sort of seasoning. It was way good. So was the ice cold Coke. Nom nom.

Image

Back on the bike, I found that I now had a tailwind! Woo hoo! It varied a bit, but there was no doubt I’d get an assist most of the way home.

And that gradual uphill was now a gradual downhill. Suffice it to say, I spent a lot of time in my big ring. I continued to stop now and then for cold water and snacks. (I had a chocolate chip ice cream sandwich at a trailside barbecue place in Ashburn. Nutrition is important, you know,)

I’ve been riding the W&OD for a couple of decades. It’s amazing how much it has changed. It used to pass through woods and farmers’ fields beyond Reston. Now, more and more of these rural scenes have been replaced by housing developments and highways. Nature still makes an appearance along the trail though. I saw a huge black snake, a black squirrel, a bunny rabbit, and an indigo bunting during my travels.

Despite the heat, I was doing pretty darn good on my ride home. Around mile 80, my knees started complaining. The only thing I could do was to focus on spinning in low gears and keep on pedaling.

When I finally made it back to the Mount Vernon Trail, I was greeted with a headwind for the last nine miles home. At least, along the river, it was a little less hot (cooler just doesn’t do the trick here).

On the spur of the moment I took the US 1 connector path instead of the MVT south of the beltway. Car traffic getting on to the Woodrow Wilson Bridge across the Potomac River was backed up for over a mile. I rode past the line of forlorn drivers thinking that I was so glad to be on a bike heading in the opposite direction. The drivers’ misery nearly took my mind off the hill I was climbing. This was followed by a bigger hill where Fort Hunt Road crests Beacon Hill. It took a while and my knees were barking but we made it without much drama. The downhill on the backside was so much fun I decided to add one more hill on Sherwood Hall Lane. This made for a final mile that was all downhill. Ahh.

Next time I go to Haute Dogs, I will visit their Old Town location. Because it’s there.

Dedicated

The radar looked favorable. If I timed it right, I could ride to work without getting wet. As Bill Cosby’s Noah once said, “RIGHT!”

It started out as a sprinkle. Since traffic was light I took Fort Hunt Road and the US 1 connector to the Mount Vernon Trail at the beltway. What cars there were gave me plenty of room. Drivers must be in a good mood.

Then the rain started. A little at first, then some more, then still more. Like Noah, I wanted to know “What’s a cubit?”

By the time I reached the airport ten miles into this little adventure, I was sopping wet. Animals were lining up in twos to get on Big Nellie. Voompah, voompah, voompah!

I saw Bob Cannon riding toward the 14th Street Bridge. He was not looking real happy. It’s hard to look happy when your beard is a sponge, I suppose.

I pulled into the garage at work and rolled past the big boss. He’s not actually big, he’s just the top dog. He’s not actually a canine…

He walked past me at the bike rack and, pointing to the puddle of water beneath me and my bike, I said, “Now this is dedication!” He replied, “in some countries, this is grounds for institutionalization.”

Since I was riding in clothes still wet from this morning, the ride home into a humid headwind wasn’t unpleasant. A few miles into the ride, I clicked my odometer. During the morning deluge Big Nellie turned 33.

At the beltway, I caught the light to cross Washington Street so I followed the US 1 connector and rode on Fort Hunt Road. I caught a light at Belle View Boulevard so I took a right and rode up brutal Beacon Hill. For months I have been having trouble with congestion in my lungs, but not today. I huffed and puffed all the way up the hill but there was no wheezing or coughing.  I hope my lung problems are finally gone.

Once I reached the top of the hill, the rest of my ride home was a piece of cake. I even added another short hill for good measure.

So what does a dedicated bike commuter do on a four day weekend?

I ain’t building an ark.

Detour 2

Detour 2 by Rootchopper
Detour 2, a photo by Rootchopper on Flickr.

The Mount Vernon Trail and a few roads nearby are under renovation this summer. This detour, located south of the long Dyke Marsh bridge, bypasses two short bridges that are being replaced. A second detour is about 200 yards north of this one. Further south, Northdown Road is being rebuilt, as are East and West Boulevard Drives south of the stone bridge on Alexandria Avenue. I haven’t had difficulty getting through all this on my bike.