The polar vortex was supposedly over but somebody forgot to tell the Potomac River. Despite the cold or perhaps because of it the ride in to work was refreshing. I realize that I will get really sick of winter in another week or two, but for now I’m actually kind of enjoying it.
Author: Rootchopper
Your Own Personal Wind Chill
Yesterday the temperature was 8 degrees with a wind chill of minus fugetaboutit. So I decided to work from home. It was a wise choice. I advised my friend Lisa not to ride but she did anyway and had a blast. This motivated me to get off my couch and ride to the office this morning.
It took an extra ten minutes to get dressed. I kept forgetting layers and losing track of things. When I left the house the temperature was a balmy 11. Since I have had prior experience with frostbite while exercising, I wanted to be extra careful not to ride too fast, lest I generate my own personal wind chill factor. As it turned out, with all the clothing I had on I couldn’t pedal fast if I wanted to.
There was roadside ice in the neighborhoods near my home, but the Mount Vernon Trail was all but ice-free. After three or four miles the tips of my fingers clad in glove liners and mittens started to hurt. Uh oh. I flexed them and hid them from the wind by sticking them behind my handlebar bag. As the temperature rose into the high teens, the pain subsided. The rest of the ride in was actually quite comfortable.
I saw a guy riding south on the trail with nothing on his head. I wish I had taken a picture of him because he is a MORON.
When I arrived at work my bike computer display stopped working. It’s just too cold for electronics.
After a fun day of editing papers (zzzzz), I began getting dressed for the ride home. 20 minutes later I was on the road. It was 29 and stayed there all the way home. There’s something about exercising in cold air that is both exhilarating and exhausting.
So I’ll be back at it tomorrow.
Since there seems to be some interest in these things, here’s what I wore:
Head: Jacket hood over synthetic balaclava over a thin synthetic Buff neck gaiter
Hands: Glove liners under polartec (?) mittens
Torso: synthetic short sleeve base layer, cotton t-shirt, wool holey sweater, Marmot Precip jacket
Arms: Under the sweater and the jacket I wore synthetic arm warmers
Legs: Synthetic briefs, Smartwool socks that covered my calves, tights, Marmot Precip pants (to cut the wind)
Feet: S/W socks, Lake mountain biking shoes with chemical hand warmers on top, Performance fleece lined winter boots
The Iceman Cometh
I grew up in Awbunny New Yawk. After 18 years of freezing winters, I moved to Bahston. After 5 years, including the Blizzard of ’78, I moved to Prawvidence where there’s a ubiquitous poster that says “in the rainy season, when it snows like a bitch.” Awbunny usually has a couple of weeks with below zero temperatures. Bahston has howling winds and dormitories located a mile walk from class (go BU!). Prawvidence turns into a glacier for a month every year.
After 28 years of coping with winter, I gave up and moved to DC. After a month of my first DC winter, I gave away my green Mr. Michelin coat, It was simply too warm for even the coldest days. Every year or two we have a legitimately cold day. Tonight and tomorrow is our time.
This morning I left early for work in the dark. It was raining with temperatures in the mid forties. Properly clothed this was actually pretty comfortable riding. There were patches of ice here and there along the way but nothing I couldn’t ride around or through. The rain stopped by the time I made it to work.
I spent the day with one eye on my work and one on the weather. I could see the rain leaving on the radar and the cold air approaching. If the rain from this morning didn’t dry up, the ride home could be an icy mess. Freezing temperatures reached the DC western suburbs at 3:30. Time to boogay.
I left the office at 4 and, after nearly getting blown over, turned into a strong wind. The Mule would not be tamed. In a quarter mile, I turned off the streets and picked up my own personal tailwind. As I rode along the Potomac River, I could see that most of the rain had indeed dried. Now the problem was all the dead tree limbs littering the trail. Good thing it was daylight because I would have hit a few of them in the dark for sure.
South of the Memorial Bridge the trail started to get slippery. The problem wasn’t ice; it was the poo from a thousand geese. I pedaled through the messes and the masses and watched as they skittered left and right and flew over my head. This weather was fowl indeed. (Sorry.)
All the way home I kept an eye on the temperature read-out on my bike computer. It started at 39. By the time I cleared Old Town Alexandria it was down to 33. Occasional twists in the trail would momentarily send me into the wind. Oof! Brr! Pedal, pedal.
In the few wet spots on the trail under the Wilson Bridge, it looked like black ice was forming. With no one on the trails or roads I could easily ride around these. Take me home tailwind.
As I rolled into the driveway in the twilight, the temperature read “32”.
I’m working from home tomorrow. The read out will be in the single digits with howling winds. That;s cold enough to make you tawk funny or drop some ahs.
Marmot to the Rescue
Four hours of sleep and a stuffy head do not a happy bike commuter make. The ride to work was drudgery made worse by the headwind, cold-ish temps (30s), and incessant need to blow my nose and cough up all kinds of gunk. We’re having fun now.
On the plus side, the Mount Vernon Trail was all but empty so The Mule and I could enjoy my misery in solitude.
The weather reports called for snow this evening. At 4 pm I checked the radar. It was raining along my entire commute route. Just to the west, like the jagged index finger of a wicked witch, there ran a long, thin red band (ice), followed by a sea of blue (snow). I finished up a few odds and ends and started packing.
I was on the road by 430. There was some slushy stuff mixed in with the rain. Not too bad. As long as that red streak stayed to the west I was in good shape.
It rained and rained. Yet I was completely comfy. I wore my Marmot Precip rain suit. This is outerwear originally designed for the military and it really works as advertised. You won’t win any cycling fashion shows wearing it and it makes you about as aerodynamic as a flabby moose (floose?) but you’ll stay warm and dry. And so I was.
I plodded along ignoring my speedometer. I usually commute at 11-13 miles per hour but I was definitely off the low end of that range. Along the way I saw some cyclists and runners without rain gear. They looked unhappy. I was all smiles. I was so happy I didn’t even think about being sick and groggy.
Considering the craptastic weather and my cold, I’d say the first bike commute of the year was a rousing success.
There is an inch of snow outside as I write this at 10 pm. To celebrate my first bike commute, I will eat some quiche and work from home tomorrow. Regrets to Mary and Rhoda but the only Friday Coffee Club I’m doing this week will be in my kitchen.
Kona, anyone?
In Like a Lamb
New Years Day is weird. It’s a time out at the start of the game. What a waste. We should all go to work and save the day off for August or late April when we can really use a day off. But you go with what you got, so I did.
I read the paper then read some more of a book I received as a gift for Christmas. It’s about slavery and academe in colonial America. Nothing like a book full of hate to kick start the new year. Thoroughly depressed, I decided to get out of the house. Ideally, I would have preferred going for a walk in the woods but that would have required a drive and it was already noon. So I decided to take a short ride on The Mule.
I headed north on the Mount Vernon Trail with no destination in mind. Kids were out showing off their new Christmas bikes to mom and dad. Pink bikes with tassles are big this year. (I suppose they are big every year.) I’m no fan of bringing little ones onto trails like the MVT but the traffic on the trail today was light and the kids were having a blast. (WOW! This bike is sooooo cool!)
Alas, The Mule is rather old like its rider. I bought it about 21 years ago. It just keeps rolling along without complaint. Maybe I should put some tassles on it.
I had a tailwind and the temperature was creeping up through the 40s as I rode. I gave the holey sweater the day off in favor of the long sleeved shirt that was under the Christmas tree. I guessed right and was perfectly comfy for the entire ride. Score one for Mrs. Rootchopper.
I headed in to DC to check out the New Year’s Day riding at Hains Point. It was pretty busy with grown ups in lycra riding their fancy pants bikes with skinny tires. I made no effort to keep up. I did one three-mile lap, saw no one that I knew, and decided to head back home. I was greeted by my first headwind of the New Year. Pedal pedal.
I rolled in to the driveway after 29.5 miles. My mind was calmed.
Tomorrow brings the first commute of the year. With a storm coming, high winds and frigid temperatures, I expect that I will telecommute on Friday. Gotta ease in to this 2014 thing.
2013: Set No Goals. Exceeded Them All
As the title says, I set no goals for myself this year. Not a one. So what happened? I rode farther and more often than ever before. My total mileage for the year was 8,087. I surprised myself since I had discovered that I had messed up my records in the spring and had several hundred miles more than I thought.
I rode to work 185 times, which accounted for 5,476.5 miles, 2/3rds of the total. My commuting weapon of choice was Big Nellie, my Tour Easy long wheelbase recumbent. I rode her 95 times to work which is surprising since I had pushed Big Nellie to the back of the stable for most of the last three years. I rode Little Nellie, my Bike Friday New World Tourist, 47 times. The balance was on The Mule, my now 20-year old Specialized Sequoia. Combined these three bikes have over 80,000 miles on them. None of them creak. (Yet.)
My biggest mileage month, 919 miles, was October when I did a bunch of recreational rides during the government shutdown. My shortest month was March, 434 miles. I spent a good deal of time checking out colleges with my daughter.
My longest ride of the year, 109.5 miles, was a jaunt in early July aboard Big Nellie from my home in Mount Vernon Virginia to Purcelville Virginia to get a hot dog at Haute Dogs and Fries. I did two other centuries during the year, The first was in early May when I rode The Mule 100.5 miles from the DC Washington Monument to the Baltimore Washington Monument. This was a particularly difficult ride because I had some kind of chest cold that made breathing really difficult. I missed riding a Populaire ride in the spring so I obtained the cue sheet and did it a short while later aboard Big Nellie. The ride was to and from home and Hyattstown Maryland (near Damascus if that helps) for a total of 107 miles.
Most of my commutes were solo affairs, but I was joined now and then by Reba, Ed, Kirk, Kelly, and Nancy. Thanks for the company.
Off the bike I dipped my toe into the bike advocacy waters. I attended a couple of public meetings and signed people up for memberships in the Washington Area Bicyclists Association (WABA). I lucked out and managed to pick the busiest spot and won first prize in the membership contest. Woo hoo.
In addition to the centuries, I did a whole bunch of event rides. Fifty States, Backroads, Great Pumpkin, Bike to Work Day, Vasa, Cider Ride, and Southern Maryland. The best part of which was all the great people who rode with me or kept me fed and watered at the rest stops or entertained at Friday Coffee Club. So at the risk of leaving some people out, thanks to the original Friday Coffee Club (Ed and Mary, Brian, and Lisa), Mike and Lisa, Jacques and Hugo, Dave and Jean and Kid O, Jon and his girls, Alex and Chris (don’t leave us), Jeff, Justin, Ryan, Crafty John and Kate, Kristen (and family) and Elizabeth, Kirstin and Tom, Lawyer Mike, Not-lawyer Michael, Mikey, Pete, Dana, Darren, Tony, Kevin, Aaron, Kathy L., Bob (Don’t Call Me Rachel) Cannon, Rachel (Don’t Call Me Bob) Cannon and Kate and Katie Ann, Jeremy (Don’t Call Me, I’m Sleeping) Cannon, Chris N., State Certifried Chris, Chris and Katie, Kate and Kermit, Adam and Crystal (come back), Lauren (stay for a ride next time), Adam (you, too), Liz and the Mechanic, Ted and Jean, Pink Pete, Peter, Lane, Ricky, Lolly, Greg and Nelle, Megan and Katie, and Charmaine (and Nancy on a bike!).
Since this year went so well without goals, I’m doing the same for 2014. Sounds like a plan.
Bridge to Somewhere Someday
Those of us to lived near the site spent ten years of our lives dealing with the delays and headaches associated with the replacement of the Woodrow Wilson Bridge. For those of you who don’t live in Washington, the Wilson Bridge carries I-95, the main north-south interstate on the east coast, across the Potomac river. It is also part of the famous Washington Beltway. The old bridge was built in the early 1960s and was literally falling apart. You could see holes in the concrete decking, erosion of the support pillars, and rust on the steel structure.
The new bridge is about twice as wide and is visually quite appealing. And as a bonus it has a multi-use path on its north side affording views of Alexandria city and DC. The path isn’t perfect (expansion joins make for a jarring ride) but it is a terrific addition to the bicycle route network in the area. There is one problem with the path: it doesn’t connect to much on the Maryland side. You ride across the river, take a switchback to a deck over the highway, spin down a spiral descent on the south side of the road and follow a long curving path to and dirt path paved in a manner of speaking with shells. FAIL.
You can ride this sketchy path directly to National Harbor which looks for all the world like Sodom on the Potomac. It is a development dominated by a massive hotel and convention center with a faux village at its glass and brick feet. The village has many of the usual cookie cutter eateries and shops that I do my level best to ignore. The development also has the statue of the Awakening, Prometheus emerging from the ground. For many years it made the desolation of Hains Point in DC a destination for tourists. Now it is crammed into a narrow riverfront looking for all the world like it was dropped there by a passing aircraft.
National Harbor is growing. Massive townhouses are sprouting from the hill above this off little downtown. It is all fenced in, to set it apart from the run of the mill adjacent suburb known as Oxon Hill. If you want to ride to Oxon Hill, you take a left at start of the shell path, pass through a tunnel made from a corregated steel tube and climb a long steady half-mile hill to Oxon Hill Road.. OHR is not much to write home about but, for the last few months, it has been torn up by construction. About 1/2 mile of the road is now open for use. It features bike lanes on either side. I decided to check the new road out yesterday.
The completed section of road leads to a new outlet mall that attracts an appalling amount of car traffic. Cars are parked all over the place and herds of shoppers need assistance from a dozen police and rent a cops at the intersections. Lovely.
As for OHR, it leads to Fort Washington and other sites rarely explored by most DC-area bicyclists. To really enjoy checking out this area, cyclists are going to have to wait a while. As I found out yesterday, road construction continues past the outlet mall for at least a half mile. I gave up when I had to cede the narrow road to fire trucks and police cars. From the looks of things (sorry no pictures, I was busy trying to stay alive) the renovated OHR will be a pretty nice ride. For now, you should probably avoid the area. Unless you’re in the market for cheap clothes.
Dr. Howard, Dr. Fine, Dr, Howard
I should have known that two days after Christmas, Friday Coffee Club would be sparsely attended. Michael, Mike, and Peter were the whole shebang. This picture was taken just before they broke into three part harmony on their rendition of “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry.”
Truth be told, in the short tradition of Friday Coffee Club, we had an hour of great conversation. The highlight was Mike describing how, when his laptop battery died many years ago, he boxed up his desktop computer and took it on a business trip with his boss.
We held down the fort for our friends who have loved ones and interesting lives and really warm places to be. After about an hour, we rode our separate ways.
And so the four of us closed out Friday Coffee Club for 2013. I know I speak for the three others in attendance when I say that we look forward to many more get togethers in the new year.
Christmas Eve Sunrise over Hunting Creek
I took an unusual route to work today. Not a bit of my ride in was on the Mount Vernon Trail. I was still treated to a pretty darn nice sunrise as I made my way from US 1 to Washington Street.
The ride in was uneventful but for a red light runner who almost hit me in Old Town.
I rode past Arlington Cemetery. Each tombstone had a Christmas wreath leaning against it.
We were let out of work early so my early Christmas present was a ride home in the daylight, with a nice tail wind to boot.
I hope you have a Merry Christmas.
Cheers.
Big Nellie and Me
I found out that I need to take Monday off from work. Normally, I’d just email my boss and do the paperwork later, but this might be a problem since the admin staff is short this week. As it turns out it was 70 degrees outside on the winter solstice so I couldn’t pass up the chance to do a bike commute on the weekend. Big Nellie and i enjoyed a steady tailwind all the way to Rosslyn. This meant that the ride home would be a struggle. And it was. A little over 2 miles from home I was passed by Charmaine going the other way on the Mount Vernon Trail. We used to ride together all the time until she moved a few years ago. We stopped and chatted for a good 1/2 hour. Then she took this picture of Big Nellie and me and we rode off in opposite directions, racing the fast approaching dusk.
