Month: October 2013

The Fourth Day of Furloughmas: Say Goodbye to My Little Friend

The alarm went off. I stayed in bed still tired from yesterday’s climbfest. I missed Friday Coffee Club and from the sound of it I may be the only bike rider in town who did.

I spent the morning like an old retiree: read the paper, watched some telly, did a little laundry. Then my body said, “Get outta here.” So Big Nellie and I did.

It’s eerie riding around here during the furlough, a bit reminiscent of the days after 9-11.

I watched a Park Service officer give a ticket to a driver who had parked at Belle Haven Park which is officially closed. Better to have people park across the Parkway and walk through high speed traffic, right. I think the Park Service should stand down and leave people alone. Put up signs that say Park Closed – Use at Your Own Risk instead.

I rode up to the 14th Street bridge past an empty parking lot at Gravelly Point. I am sure that blocking off the lot will solve a lot of problems. Somehow.

Near the DC end of the 14th Street bridge I encountered about 10 people riding Bikeshare bikes heading my way. They didn’t seem to get the idea that you ride on the right. Maybe they were Brits. Maybe they were clueless. Fortunately they moved to the right before crashing into me.

I rode over to East Potomac Park to check out Hains Point. The road was barricaded but the sidewalks weren’t. There seems to be uneven enforcement of the closure of things. I think the Park Service should close everything including the GW Memorial Parkway and Rock Creek and Potomac Parkway. This will piss off the Republicans in McLean and the Democrats in Bethesda, not just the tourists and bike commuters. Share the love, NPS!

I headed for home past the Pentagon which has a suspicious number of cars in the parking lot. Lots of essential people here.  Didn’t the evil doers get the memo about the government shutdown?

I stopped at Long Bridge Park to use the facilities. They are clean and open. Thanks, Arlington County.

In Crystal City I watched some workers painting a brand spanking new bike lane green. This is the finishing touch to making Crystal Drive a two way street. Now cyclists can ride directly from Long Bridge Park to the trail that connects with the Mount Vernon Trail. Why this took over decade to do is beyond me, but thanks again, Arlington County. By the way, Crystal City no longer is for mole people. There is actually a bona fide street scene with storefronts and pedestrians.

I rode back through the new city in Potomac Yards. A guy in a sports car buzzed by me in my lane. He was in a hurry to catch the next red light. Dude, it’s not a race.

At the south end of Old Town, I was riding along Washington Street when a car came up behind me and started beeping. I was in a good mood so I kept my middle finger on the handlebars. A few minutes later I was at a right angle to Washington at a stop light when the car came by. It was a little old lady who was barely tall enough to see over the steering wheel on which she had a death grip. I hope I have enough common sense to know when my driving days are over. (My daughter would say they already are! Yes, she’s the one who accounted for scraping up both sides of her mother’s car in the last 18 months.)

I arrived home to a celebratory Dove Bar – it was pretty hot out. After that, I conducted a silent funeral for an old friend. In 1991 B. K. (before kids) I rode Bike Virginia where I picked up a bike hat. I’ve been wearing it off and on ever since. It’s falling apart and appallingly scuzzy so I gave it the heave ho. Adios, amigo.

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The Third Day of Furloughmas

On the third day of Furloughmas my bicycle gave to me, a ride in Virginia Hunt Country.

I spent my first two days of being unemployed getting caught up on non-biking things. Today I decided to go for a ride. I pulled out my ancient copy of the Washington Area Bicycling Atlas and found a challenging 55-mile ride that I did about 10 years ago. The ride was a big oval running east then south then west then north then east back to the start in the town of Marshall in wine and hunt country.

My recollection from the last time I did this ride is that there is nasty hill at about 30 miles. Much of the ride was on windy two lane country lanes. When I wasn’t gawking at the pretty farms, I was taking in the Blue Ridge Mountains looming in the back ground. I could have taken pictures all day but put my camera away after a shot of the road ahead. You wanna see pretty go ride out yonder.

I chose The Mule, my old Specialized Sequoia, for the ride. After missing my first turn, I got back on course and headed for the country. After riding about 10 miles  with a couple of respectable hills included, I rode through the crossroads town of Waterloo. The next ten miles headed west toward the Blue RIdge. I stopped for lunch at a store in Orlean, another crossroads town. I had a bologna sandwich because I haven’t seen a bologna sandwich on a menu in decades.  Bologna is regarded as bad food. You don’t want to know what it is made of. It also happens to be pretty awesomely tasty. I also ate a bag of Route 11 tater chips. I washed it all down with an Arnold Palmer.  I somehow managed to survive the feast.

View from the hip
View from the hip

Back on the bike, I continued west through the town of Hume.  My brain said that the serious climb was only a couple of miles ahead but I recollected the terrain incorrectly. There were hills but none of them were all that steep. After the course turned to the north,  my memory was abruptly refreshed. The road rose and rose past the Naked Mountain Winery and rose some more. I was in my granniest gear but the “hill” was winning. I reached the top, stopped, bent over the handlebars and huffed and puffed for 30 seconds or more. Then I got back on the bike, turned the corner, and discovered that there was still more climbing to be done. Fail. If only I had eaten free range salmon on gluten free flaxseed bread and washed it down with acai berry juice. Of course, then I would have puked my guts out, thereby lightening my load and making it up the mountain robustly (but with fierce dragon breath).

I made it to the top and set in for the 39 mile per hour ride down the other side. I’d have gone faster but for the crappy chip seal road surface. After bouncing around and holding on for dear life, I managed to make it to route 17 where the pavement was smooth and the cars were fast. The shoulder was plenty wide (a rarity in Virginia) and I buzzed along to route 50. This was also a smooth highway but with precious little in the way of a shoulder. The cars passing me gave me lots of room though, including a right hand drive Mini.

The last ten miles involved a bit more climbing (they apparently don’t call one of the towns Upperville for nothing) but after the ride up Naked Mountain I couldn’t complain much.

At the finish, I was, well, finished. Pooped. The ride was just long enough to get me to forget about the mess in DC.

I highly recommend this ride if you like to look at immense estates with horseys and cows. And the Blue RIdge. And dozens of vultures gorging on road kill (not me thankfully).

I suppose you could stop at the dozen or so vineyards I rode past. I seriously doubt you’d make it up Naked Mountain with a belly full of wine. Then, again, I am pretty sure you wouldn’t much care.

Bike Tourists at Mount Vernon

I have been furloughed, sucked into the maw of the federal budget beast. So I spent a few hours on Big Nellie riding to Elevation Burger (meh) at National Harbor, then to the HVAC place in Old Town, then to Mount Vernon. I fell in behind these two folks (the woman is Megan, the man I dunno). They climbed the hill to Mount Vernon like they had nothing on their bikes. Very impressive. They are riding from Lake Placid NY to Florida. Once there they are heading west for California. Megan said they are raising money for a charity but I didn’t get the details. (I’ll post them if I do.) If you see a bike tourist passing through DC, say hi. Buy them lunch. Let them camp in your yard.

September by the Numbers

Despite a trip out of town and lots of car-related disruptions, I did a pretty decent amount of riding  in September. For the most part, the weather cooperated. I rode 858 miles for the month. I did four metric centuries: the Southern Maryland Century, the 50 States Ride, the Backroads Century, and a ride to Dulles with the Randos.  With a few other rides on the weekends, my non-commuting riding totaled 309 miles. The other 549 miles came from 19 commutes, 16 on Big Nellie, my Tour Easy recumbent. I haven’t driven my car to work now in about 3 1/2 months.

The Tour Easy did the bulk of the lifting this month, 609 miles. The Mule, my 20-year-old Specialized Sequoia, racked up 213. Little Nellie, my Bike Friday New World Tourist, contributed but 36 miles.

During the 50 States Ride, probably around the time of the monsoon, I crossed the 5,000 mile mark for the year. I now stand at 5,299 miles with 138 bike commutes. 

Today, I was furloughed and didn’t ride to work. I spent the entire day running mostly car-related errands. I hope to get out on the bike tomorrow.