Category: Bike Commuting

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.

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. 

Cars and Cannons

I stayed up late to watch the Academy Awards. As a result I was operating on 5 1/2 hours of sleep when I headed out into the cold morning on Big Nellie. Winds were light so the ride in was not too difficult.

There are two fly over bridges at the airport. The bridges carry the Mount Vernon Trail over airport access and egress ramps.  Just as I finished riding over the first bridge, a guy on what looked like a mountain bike but with bigger wheels passed me. He was tall and was wearing a backpack. I couldn’t see around him. As he passed another bicycle came from the opposite direction. To avoid a collision he cut back in front of me just missing my front wheel.  When it comes to down hills, faired long wheel base recumbents are king.  I rode up the second flyover bridge right behind Backpack Lance. I couldn’t safely pass him so I had to ride my brakes for 1/4 mile.  Really considerate of you Lance. Fair warning. Next time you get the bicycle death ray.

I heard that a car drove off the Memorial Bridge into the Potomac River last night so I was hoping to see the car nose first in the river. No luck though. Evidence of where the car blasted through the side railing on the bridge could be seen but the car had already been removed. Apparently the driver was not seriously hurt (which is something of a miracle)

A Long Way Down

The ride home featured a wave to Bob (“Don’t Call Me Rachel”) Cannon of the Friday Coffee Club as we passed between the Memorial and 14th Street Bridges.  The sunlight lasted so long tonight. I didn’t need a headlight until I was well south of Old Town. As I enterred Belle Haven Park, I spied an osprey about ten feet up in a tree next to the trail. He was facing toward me with his back to the river.  Ospreys look pretty impressive until you see one next to a mature bald eagle, that is. Then they look like wimps.

As I rode past Dyke Marsh I was treated to an rising full moon. It was orange and a damned impressive sight. I’d have taken a picture but that would have required photographic competence of which I have none.

Incoming!!!

I woke up at 5:30. Actually my bladder woke up at 5:30. My brain was still asleep. It was a fierce fight for anatomical dominance but my bladder won.  My trip to the end of the driveway was invigorating. Not because of my bladder. It was in the 20s and the wind was blowing.  Maybe I should get wind resistant jammies. I briefly considered driving to work, but then I thought, “Why not freeze my noo noos off instead?”  And so I rode Big Nellie into the frigid morning.
Despite the big fairing on the front of Big Nellie, I was having quite a rough time getting any speed going.  I hit the hill on Park Terrace Drive going only about 10 miles per hour.  In a few seconds, I was doing 32 and ducking behind the fairing to preserve the flesh around my eyes.  Tears were shed involuntarily. Dang.
Onto the Mount Vernon Trail without a stop to cross the Parkway. Ithink I will call this maneuver “Pulling a Moses.” How nice of people to provide a gap in traffic. The Dyke Marsh boardwalk was free of rime, too, so things were going swimmingly.
I didn’t blog about my ride yesterday but it was notable for two wildlife sightings. Along the river near Dyke Marsh a tree was absolutely filled with red winged blackbirds. They were making the trilling sound that reminds me so much of my days as a kid playing in and around Dead Man’s Pond.  (Sounds a bit like something Luke Skywalker would say, no?) Sadly, the pond was filled in by developers long ago. When I got to the northern side of Belle Haven Park, I spotted a bald eagle about 200 feet up in the air flying from the river across the trail toward the Beltway/US1 mixing bowl.
Yesterday’s flashback was provided so that I could place today’s wildlife sighting in context. As usual, I was hoping to spot a bald eagle in the Belle Haven nest.  Instead, I spotted one about 30-50 feet high gliding straight toward me over the trail.  All I could think of was, “It would suck to be a mouse right now.” Just before getting to me, the eagle flapped its wings, turned and gained altitude as it headed for the nest. Double dang.
I slogged into the headwind through Old Town. The beaver dam is starting to get built up again. I wonder if this isn’t the work of the National Park Service official beaver dam disrupter or just a very stubborn beaver. The water level is almost up to the trail again so I suspect the disruptor will be back soon. Damn. (So to speak.)
The rest of the ride in was work. As usual, once I cleared the airport, I had nothing to block the headwind. The bike seemed unusually sluggish. On the way home I learned that my front fender was dragging on the side of my front tire. I must have been really sleepy this morning because I didn’t hear it rubbing even with the fairing to amplify the sound. Once I freed the tire, I could enjoy the tailwind all the way home.
And so I completed my 30th bike commute of 2013.  Normally I don’t hit 30 until sometime in March. Tomorrow I am driving in. The forecast is calling for afternoon snow showers and a wintry mix for the evening rush. Not gonna happen on two wheels.

The End of an Errand

The ride to work today was a gift.  A tailwind made it a literal and figurative breeze. Little Nellie was my hoss du jour, because of the threat of rain for the evening rush. About two miles from home a raccoon sauntered out in front of me. It was a big one. It could have been a normal sized raccoon with its fur fluffed up against the cold. Or maybe it was a momma full of babies. In any case, it made it to the middle of the street and stopped. It turned its head to check me out, the, as if it were saying “D’oh!” turned around and scampered back the way it had come. Actually, it was more like a waddle than a scamper. Maybe it had too much scampi at the garbage buffet.

I was hoping for more wild life on the way in. There was the usual heap of geese and ducks and a great blue heron all scrunched up out in the river. No raptors or exotics. (I am soooo spoiled.)

I am starting to get the Rosslyn Circle of Certain Doom down to a science. Just assume that, when the light turns red, three cars will run the red to turn onto Key Bridge. Then proceed. You see car drivers never flaunt the laws like bike riders. Never ever.

The ride home was started by a jaw dropping moment.  It was light out. Not, almost-sunset light out, but honest to bejebus light out. And it stayed that way all the way to Belle Haven Park.  Even beyond there was enough sunlight left over that the headlights of the cars on the Parkway were tolerable.

By the time I arrived at the stone bridge 2 miles from home it was dark. I was running my Stella headlight on “high”. I headed for the 7-11 near home and stopped to do my last errand of the Errandonnee. Since it was my wild card, I thought it would be appropriate to buy a couple of lottery tickets. And so I did. Since it was in the dark, I also knocked off my second ride at night.

Errand 12: Wild Card

Now that the Errandonnee is in the books, El Gran Errando will retire knowing that this challenge was muy bueno.

The Hapless Hispanisto

Weatherman was using the s word this morning so Little Nellie got that call. It could have been an unwise decision since there was frost on the cars parked in front of my house.  Once I got to the Mount Vernon Trail all the bridges were coated in rime.  As both faithful readers of this blog know, Little Nellie is not particularly good at riding on slippery stuff.  I was uber careful and made it over the scary bits without incident.
The sunrise was pretty intense this morning. I think the temperature popped up a few degrees because I went from chilly at the start of the ride to sweaty by the half way point.  Speaking of halfway points, as I approached the power plant, I intersected with none other than Nancy Duley.  Normally we pass each other in opposite directions but since I left early to get to Friday Coffee Club I got a bonus. Nancy was riding alone because the evil and heartless Mr. Nancy Duley rode off without her. Nancy and I rode together to the airport. All the way, Nancy was cussing the Mr. up something fierce!!  (Okay, just kidding. Don’t want to start a divorce after they spent all that money on new doors for the house.)
Nancy has an awesome bike.  The frame is a custom Holland frame from 1993 (the same age as The Mule). It’s got nifty looking fenders and a trekking style handlebar. Nancy must be tempted to just keep on riding every morning.  Since she has a job and a mortgage (and new doors!) she turned around at the airport and headed for home. (Or so she said.  She could have continued on to Fredericksburg as far as I know.)
Coffee Club was hopping.  It’s my first FCC meeting in four weeks. It was especially nice to see the early birds, Mary, Lisa, Crystal and Adam, who normally are gone by the time I arrive. Froggie, a.k.a. the Bad Penny, was in from Norfolk.  And John, the dirt engineer, appeared, but left his beard at home. It was an effective disguise.
He reports that he is hard at work on the 2nd Annual Hoppy 100.
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It’s always fun to meet new folks at FCC and Ricky and Colin were this week’s noobs.  Welcome.
As is so often the case, the highlight of FCC is getting to play a bit with Hugo.  Hugo’s around 8 months old and words cannot do justice to his cuteness.
hugo
On the ride to Rosslyn, Little Nellie had to stop and take in the strange wooden beasts in front of the Kennedy Center.  I do not have an art gene, but I am guessing that some creative type person thought it would be spiffy to put a herd of wooden elk in front of the Kennedy Center. The Kennedy’s were known elk lovers. They had elk races at the Kennedy compound in Hyannisport until an elk got drunk and ran off a bridge and drowned. You could look it up.
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If the morning was cool-ish the afternoon and evening were warm-ish. It was 61 degrees at lunchtime. I celebrated by walking several blocks to a sandwich stop.  On the way back to the office, a sky blue Porsche blew through a yield sign at a crosswalk that I was about to enter. The driver was on his cell phone. I slapped the rear panel of his car as he went by. He didn’t look or care. Some day Mr. Sky Blue Porsche will be spending oodles of money on a defense attorney after he hits a pedestrian. How much money? Obviously, if you have to ask you can’t afford it.
I relate the Porsche story partly because of what happened in Old Town on the way home.
The trip home was characterized by two things. First, I wore shorts. In February. Lordy, it felt good. Second, a weather front was approaching. There was a clear line of ominous clouds coming, When I started for home, I had a headwind. By the time I reached the airport, the wind was gusting from behind. They should make a rule that requires that the best tailwind of the week happens on Friday evenings,
On my way along North Union Street in Old Town, I spotted a woman runner on the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. She was heading south like me. As we reached a parking garage, an exiting car came inches from hitting her. She and the driver exchanged words. She told the driver that it was okay since the sight lines are terrible.  Mighty magnanimous of her after the driver nearly killed her.
As far as errandonnee activity, I diverted 2 1/2 miles from my commute for FCC so I get a Coffee run as errand number 8 (I think). My total errandonneering mileage is well over 60 miles. I hope to do two some more errands this weekend.
Mary, the Mother of all Errandeurs, suggested that I change my errandonneuring moniker from El Errandonisto Grande to El Gran Errando.  Since EGE is a better set of initials than EEG, which makes it look like I have serious neurological problems, I am switching to El Gran Errando.
Life would have been much easier if I had taken Spanish instead of French in high school.
“C’est la vie,” say the old folks. It goes to show you never can tell.

Robineering

The weatherman warned that there might be snow this evening. Or their might not. I want his job.

Just to be safe Little Nellie got the call today. I can say for certain after riding her 20 miles today that the tweak to the saddle position is a rousing success. And the repair to my shifter cable likewise.

The ride in was nothing to write home about.  And since I am at home as I write this ther wouldn’t be any point to doing so if I did.  Cruising along between the Humpback Bridge and the Memorial Bridge I spotted two robins bopping along the side of the Mount Vernon Trail. They didn’t have their bright orange breast feathers yet but they were definintely robins.

There were a bunch of soldiers doing what must be a required fitness task. They put on massive back packs and walk along the trail. I can tell they are being timed because they look down at their watches and because there’s another soldier timing them at what looked like the finish line just north of the 14th Street bridge.  One of the soldiers was actually running with his pack on. All I could think of is, “Dude, your body’s going to remember this in about 20 years.”

The ride in was dry with a head wind. The ride home was in a spitting rain.  The tailwind made it tolerable. Once the sun went down it was exceptionally hard to see as the light from my helmet lamp and the cars on the parkway were reflecting off of all the water.

Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. Rather than race around trying to get flowers for Mrs. Rootchopper, I diverted to the Safeway and picked some up. (Here’s hoping the Mrs. does read my blog.)  It took me five minutes to pick them out and buy them. It took ten minutes of walking around in the rain beforehand trying to find something to lock LIttle Nellie to.  I ended up just locking the rear wheel to the frame near some shopping carts.  Sadly, this is all too familiar in Mount Vernon. Fairfax County is way behind on accommodating biked as transportation.

For those of you who are into the errandoneering challenge, I scored two rides today. 1 bike commute of 29 miles (errand number 6) and one trip to the grocery store (errand number 7) in the dark (a one-half mile diversion off my bike commute).  So that gives me 1 of 2 night time rides.

Happy Ash Valentines Eve.

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Audio Ninja

A few months ago I coined the term “veloworker” to describe someone who tells their boss they’re telecommuting then goes out for a bike ride.
Yesterday I started a new feature of this blog. I call it Danger of the Day.

Today my neologistic skills meet Danger of the Day. I give you the audio ninja.
As every winter bike commuter knows, a ninja is a person who wears dark clothing on an unlit trail at night. Ninjas wear no lights and eschew reflective material. When backlit by a car’s headlights, ninjas are invisible.  So far this winter I have had about 20 ninja near misses. Early in the winter I saw a bike commuter and a ninja disentangling themselves after the cyclist ran the ninja over south of National Airport on the Mount Vernon Trail.
Today during broad daylight I encountered a runner on the trail as I approached the base of the switchback bridge to Rosslyn. She was clad in black cycling clothes. Protruding from the bottom of her colorful woolen winter hat, I could see white earbuds. The earbuds were wired to an iPod or smartphone which she held in one of her gloved hands. She was running on the center line of the trail. As Big Nellie and I came upon her from behind, I rang my bell. She stayed in the center of the trail. I slowed and rang the bell again. Without looking she moved to the left directly in front of me. I started to pass her on the right and she moved back to the right in front of me, again without looking. I think that maybe she saw that bikes were coming down the bridge toward her on the left side of the trail.  By this point, I was so close to her I nearly clipped her heels with my front wheel. I was tempted to use my fairing to deflect her into the weeds. Unfortunately, like my bicycle death ray, this sort of thing only really works in my imagination. Instead, I yelled “Give me a break!!!” or words to that effect.
So today’s Danger of the Day is the audio ninja: a trail user  so zoned out on  her music that she has no situational awareness whatsoever.