Buzzing Amid the Gloom

Last night I took my daughter out to the new District Taco in Old Town Alexandria. This place seems to be very popular with the #bikedc crowd. Unfortunately they do not yet sell cervezas at this location. I really wanted to try their fish tacos because my #bikedc friends rave about them. Sadly, they do not sell fish tacos on Mondays. I’ll just have to go back.

The day after the acupuncture session I was surprised to find that the pain in my right triceps is still gone and my range of motion is normal. Pretty darn good if you ask me.

I rode Little Nellie to work. When I started a misty rain was just ending. It was well before dawn. Not exactly the kind of weather to lift my mood. I only saw two people on the Mount Vernon Trail. One was someone I have seen before, maybe even at Friday Coffee Club. I’ll have to get his name because after passing me he seemed to fall into the same pace as mine. As it usually does, the ride did my head a world of good. Throughout the ride I tried to just let my mind drift instead of thrashing through the details of life. This is a challenge because if I succeeded at such an early hour, I’d fall asleep. Once I reached the Intersection of Doom I had to get my head back into the game lest I be run over by the motorized mayhem.

When I got to work, my right foot felt normal. After a few hours it reverted to something between numbness and buzzing. I still have a few days to go before passing judgment on the efficacy of my treatment yesterday but at least there is change.

The ride gome was a fogfest. For the first mile on the Mount Vernon Trail, I could barely see ten feet in front of me with the fog and headlights. It seemed like I was alone on the trail then suddenly NINJAS! An elderly (okay, wait, they were probably my age) couple was walking side by side. I hit my brakes and swerved for the grass. I stopped short of the grass and only a couple of feet behind them.

“WHOA! I can’t see you.” Brakes squealing.

I swerved around them thankful not to be in a heap of bike and bodies. The rest of the ride home was in solitude. It was pretty freaking nice for late December.

South of the Beltway I was cruising along when I saw something surreal ahead. It was the most intense headlight I have ever seen on a bike. I am pretty sure it was a bike light or maybe I was having a near death experience.

I arrived home with singed retinas. I am looking forward to the 60 degree weather forecasted for tomorrow. I can live without the forecasted thunderstorms. Christmas Eve in DC.

Welcoming Winter at the Hains Point 100

Women and bicycles have been very, very good to me. And I wanted to get out of the house and see some of my #bikedc friends. As luck would have it WABA was putting on its annual Hains Point 100 ride to benefit its Women & Bicycles program. What a remarkable coincidence.

The event involves riding the 3 1/3rd mile loop in East Potomac Park, known locally as Hains Point, mostly because the loop goes down to Hains Point and back.

I arrived about 15 minutes after the start and as I drove into the park there were about 100 cyclists streaming down Buckeye Drive. I parked the car, extracted Little Nellie from the trunk and joined the masses. Or, more truthfully, watched as the masses swarmed around me a speeds I could not match.

I rode with Aaron Hansen for a lap or so. We were passed by swarms of cyclists that included Chris Mamone, Ed Felkner and Mary Gersima on their tandem, Dave Salovesh and Jean DeStefano on their tandem, Ricky Albores, Katie Bolton, and Ted Nigrelli. Aaron dropped out and I soon found myself riding with Kathy Lewis for several laps. We managed to meet up with Crystal Bae who was riding a Bikeshare bike. Crystal and her husband Adam left DC for Santa Barbara about 1 1/2 years ago. They rode their bikes to California. It was great seeing her. I had hopes of seeing Alex Baca, another #bikedc expat in California, but, alas, she was a no show.

No wonder Kid O doesn't want to be seen in public with her dad. — No wonder Kid O doesn’t want to be seen in public with her dad.

I stopped after 20 miles to make a donation to WABA. This led to a whole bunch of chit chat with Mike Ross and Lisa Eaker and their daughter (who is lovely but who’s name completely slips my mind.) And Ricky. And Dave and Jean. And on and on and on. I even spotted a young Cannon (Jeremy) lingering about.

I decided to call it a day and head back to my car. During this last mile or so of riding I could feel a nerve or tendon or some other structure in my calf flexing like a guitar string and sending little shocks into my numb foot. I do believe I have found the culprit of my foot woes. Tomorrow I go to the acupuncturist. If that doesn’t work, a rolfing I will go.

On the drive out of the park I ran into (not literally) Justin Antos. With Justin, Ed, Mary, Mike, Lisa, Jeremy, and Michael it was a bit of a 50 States Ride reunion.

Here are some pix from today’s event.

Numbers and Cupcakes, Too

Today marks the bike commute with the least amount of daylight. As someone who is vitamin D deficient, I say, “Enough already.” I could do without the cold weather too, but, alas, that promises to get worse before it gets better. Curious to find out how the other half lives, I checked the temperature in Buenos Aires at noon today. 93 degrees (Feels like 104). Suffer, Argentina.

I rode to Friday Coffee Club talking to myself the entire way. I am a chatty person. The folks with the white coats didn’t catch me. At Swings House of Caffeine, there was a decent sized crowd. Felkerino brought cupcakes and @BobbiShaftoe bought Christmas cookies. I do believe there is a conspiracy afoot to undo all my good eating habits of late. For the record, I had one cupcake.

Bob “Don’t Call Me Rachel” Cannon was disappointed that I was not wearing the earrings I won at the WABA Christmas party. For the record, I am not an earring kind of guy.

@arlingtonrider brought Mac with her. Mac has been bike commuting for two months and is very enthusiastic. She fit right in with the hapless gang of two wheeled loonies.

On the way to work I checked the odometer on Little Nellie.

I never, ever thought I’d ride this bike so much.

Yesterday, I weighed 203 at the doctor’s office. I suspect a vast right wing conspiracy. So I weighed myself nekkid at work. 200! Mendoza line. Basically my trick is to avoid eating crap. Seems to be working. The last time I was under 200 pounds my son was an infant. He now towers over me.

I can’t say I was looking forward to the ride home. I was tired. My back was achy. Once I got on the bike though it all worked out. It was such a lovely ride. The monuments were all lit up. The view never gets old. The car traffic was light so I didn’t have to fight the headlights all the way home.

Bring Me Light

We are in the trough. The next two weeks have the least amount of daylight, then, like a overweight cargo plane, we take off ever so gradually toward springtime. Of course, the coldest days of winter remain but they are small price to pay for deliverance from the dark.

The morning dawned shrouded in fog. This always means an interesting river view. Today was no exception. The spike of the fog bank looming above the far river bank looked as if a madman had taken over, his hair pointed skyward.

Despite the 40+ degree temperature the boardwalks on the trail were treacherously coated with a thin rime layer. In old town, Nancy “Two Sheds” Duley came rolling my way, Normally she awakens me from my commuting reverie but this day the tables were turned.

“Hi,Nancy”

“Watch out for the ice on the boardwalks!”

When I came to the beaver boardwalk, the one north of Old Town where a beaver builds and re-builds a dam, I saw a cyclist recovering from a crash. I glided, hands off my brakes, past him. I could see the right leg of his tights were torn. I asked if he was okay and he nodded. On I rode. A few minutes later he passed me. Even crash victims ride faster than me.

The boardwalk under the TR bridge seemed ice free by the time I made it there. I took my time to avoid an unpleasant surprise.

I learned through Twitter that Nancy had in fact been involved in a four-bike pile up on the beaver boardwalk. She was pretty composed for someone who had such a nasty ride.

During the day, my numb foot had me contemplating alternatives to the creepy neurosurgeon. Ultrarunnergirl gave me the name of a sports acupuncturist so I decided to schedule a treatment. He didn’t sound very optimistic but I figure I only have a few bucks to lose. Ultrarunnergirl says he cured her persistent plantar fasciitis with one treatment. I am not one who buys into alternative medicine. I even don’t like chiropractors, but the prospect of back surgery will have me trying just about anything. If acupuncture doesn’t work, I’ll try massage or rolfing or golfing or, maybe, bowling. Back surgery is very risky, even with the best of surgeons, and months of post surgical misery is not something I hope to repeat.

The ride home tonight was about as good as it gets for December. I had a nice gentle tailwind and the ice was gone from the trail. Even the headlights and ninjas didn’t bother me. Pretty soon, they’ll be a memory.

Frozen, Stood Up, and Backed Out

I’ve been bugging my friend Flor to get together with me before she takes off for warmer climes for the holidays. She suggested that she could come to Friday Coffee Club. Not a bad idea. I didn’t quite know how it would work though. She told me previously that she starts work at 7:30. Friday Coffee Club doesn’t get started until 7:45 or so. I figured I’d better get there really early.

This meant getting up REALLY early, as in 5:30. I stepped outside to get the newspaper and it was breezy and cold. Was it cold enough for my winter commuting garb? Yes, indeed! I decided to break out my holey sweater and mittens.

At 6:15, fortified with a bowl of Cheerios and feeling a pow-pow-powerful good-good feeling, I hit the road on Little Nellie. In the dark. And into a headwind. Ugh.

If I was going to get to Friday Coffee Club before 7:30 I was going to have to ride hard. Into the big ring went my chain. And I started hammering away. The harder I pedaled the more headwind I seemed to encounter. So frustrating! Pedal harder still. Ugh.

I should have known that things weren’t going to work out when I was passed by an on-coming cyclists wearing a gorilla mask and a frilly pink ballerina skirt. I kid you not. Poor guy probably had frozen bike commuter brain syndrome (FBCBS to my medical professional friends).

Over the river via the 14th Street bridge and into the city I rode, cranking that big ring for all it was worth, and it wasn’t worth much. Ugh.

At Constitution and 15th with the walk signal illuminated in my favor, I started to ride across the street in the crosswalk . A dump truck driver turning right on red from Constitution onto 15th had other ideas. He apparently wanted cyclist guts on his bumper. I screamed at him and he stopped before hitting me. Ugh..

I pedaled lickety split(-ish) up the 15th Street cycletrack and past the White House. I arrived at Friday Coffee Club where I found Reba, Beth, and Brook sitting outside. “You are insane!” said I. Then I bought some coffee and joined them.

We talked and tried to ignore the cold. From time to time I craned my neck to see if Flor was sitting inside the coffee shop. Then I decided to send her a text. This was her response:

“I am at home in my pjs.”

Must.

Not.

Kill.

Truth be told, in seven years I have known her I have never heard her utter the word “hate” or the f-word except when it was followed by “cold weather.” She really, truly cannot stand it. In a previous life she was proably a reptile.

As time passed more people showed up. They were awesome. The conversation was awesome. We didn’t even notice the cold. Okay, Reba did, but she somehow kept her teeth from clattering which we all appreciated. Later in the day, we even learned that she had signed up for the Cider Ride in December.

Time flies when your freezing to death. At 8:40 I stood to leave It was actually colder and windier than when I arrived. Holy bejebus!.

I headed down G Street to Rosslyn. A black limo tried to take me out. I watched an SUV, run a stop sign in front of me. The driver never saw the sign. Fortunately no cross traffic got in its way. Crossing Virginia Avenue two cyclists were coming straight at me on my side of the street. Something or someone was trying to tell me “This is not your day.”

I avoided the cyclists and made my way to the TR bridge over the Potomac River to get back into Virginia. The cross wind was fierce making it “MOTHER OF GAWD” cold. I could be home in my pjs! I should be home in my pjs!

I rode up the hill in Rosslyn. An Arlington police officer stood his chilly ground to discourage bad behavior. I watched a cyclists cross against the light. The cop did nothing. Then as I was turning left to cross the I-66 off ramp, an SUV blew the red light to make a right turn, just missing me. The traffic cop said nothing. He was an equal opportunity incompetent.

I slalomed through the pedestrians along the sidewalk, turned into my office’s garage, parked my bike and then my back started to go out. You gotta be effing kidding me.

I made it up to my office and began the day’s paid work. I found some vitamin I in my desk and had a couple. In an hour my back began to feel better. In another hour feeling returned to my toes. By four I was ready to do battle with the weather gods once more.

The car I had dropped off for service yesterday was ready for pick up. So all I had to do was ride Little Nellie up a half mile steep hill in freezing cold weather with a sore back. Not ideal but the alternatives were non existent.

I was dreading this ride like you would not believe. So of course, it was painfree and actually kind of fun. The wind had died down. Climbing the hill generated some much needed body heat. 1 ½ miles later I pulled into the mechanic’s parking lot. This was way better than a 15 mile ride home.

So the first truly cold day is in the books. I didn’t freeze to death or get hit by any large metal objects. Success! I am looking forward to doing battle with Tuesday. Forecast high: 34 degrees. Winds WNW 21 mph.

I’m doomed.

Coffeeneuring with George Washington Foodcourt

I waited to long to go on my bike ride today. You see, last night I attended a bike poster art thing called Artcrank in DC. There were bike themed posters on display. They were very creative. As it turns out, my favorite was from Friday Coffee Club member Aaron. His poster was called No Bad Day and it showed a bike rider in silouette, half riding in foul weather and half in fair. It reminded me of my running days. My wife would look out the window and say, the weather sucks. My response would invariably there is no bad weather for a run. And out I would go.

The real highlight of the Artcrank event was the fact that there were 20 or 30 #bikedc people I knew there. (No way I’m naming names since I would surely leave some out.) And I met several people who I hope to see again soon. I’d say the first edition of Artcrank DC was a big, big success.

Aaron, is a year round, indefatigable bike commuter. He commuted in Minneapolis which is either badass or insane. Or, actually, both. We were talking with beer cans in their cozies in our hands when he mentioned that the cozies make excellent toe warmers for winter cycling. This is either badass or insane, but it is an economical (actually free) alternative to the stupid toes covers I bought a couple of years ago. They lasted all of two weeks before shredding.

I put them on today but it wasn’t cold enough to make a difference. I’ll get another chance soon enough. (There is of course the possibility that Aaron was putting me on. I am unshamable, however.)

My ride today was my sixth coffeeneuring ride. I decided to roll down to Mount Vernon and check out the food court. I’ll bet you didn’t know George Washington invented the food court. He was badass, too. On the way I took a lap around Fort Hunt Park. The trees in the park were a little past peak but they still impressed with their bold colors.

Further down river on the Mount Vernon Trail I came upon a brand new bridge. This is really quite nice and was much needed. Thank you, National Park Service.

Just past the bridge I came upon a boat parked at the river bank behind some yellow tape. It could have been the S.S. Minnow, but maybe not.

The food court was ‘Merica. Burgers and fries and pizza and other things that didn’t make my nose too happy. I bought a decaf coffee and a soft pretzel. The pre-ride coffee I made with my new coffee maker was more better by far. The soft pretzel was salty and took up sufficient space in my digestive tract that it might be classified as actual food.

The ride home along the river was lovely. It had warmed up a bit while I was decaffeinating and so it was quite comfortable.

Back at home I had a chain lube party with my three favorite bikes. They are my favorites because they are the only three I have.

Coffeeneruing Rap Sheet

Place: Mount Vernon estate food court at the end of the Mount Vernon Trail

Drink: House decaf as bland as coffee gets

Miles: 13

Observation: There used to be a Starbucks in the foodcourt but now it’s just generic weak joe. The coffeeneuring pickings sure are few and far between in SE Fairfax County. The ride, however, is pretty darn nice.

Darth Litigious and Friend

Halloween fell on a Friday this year so it was not a surprise to see some folks dressed for the occasion at Friday Coffee Club. This is Lawyer Mike. He is normally a (somewhat) respectable attorney in our nation’s capital, but today he apparently lost his mind today. He has this cool Bike Friday Family Tandem that he normally rides with his son. Today, he brought along a different stoker. I think his name is Bram. (Sorry.)

The fellow on the back had an accident on the way to Coffee Club; his leg and pelvis fell off. Thanks to quick thinking and some duct tape Mike had him back together and back on the bike. I suspect his pedaling effficiency may suffer somewhat. Rudy offered some screws from his femur but Mike was too polite to take them. Besides it would have meant cutting Rudy’s leg open with blood flying everywhere. Ewww.

Bread and Water and Coffee and Scone

I had planned to go for a long hike today with my friend Florencia but she is under the weather and, come to think of it, so is the weather. So we are postponing our adventure until next weekend.

It was gray and drizzly out but I can’t stand to sit still on a weekend. Luckily, the Queen of Caffeine has laid down the Coffeeneuring Challenge. It’s as if she anticipated days like this. She is wise.

After the rain let up around midday, I hopped on Little Nellie, destination unknown. I decided after 4 miles of pedaling toward Old Town on the Mount Vernon Trail to bang a left on Belle View Boulevard and head toward Bread and Water, a new-ish cafe in the Belle View Shopping Center. The inside was rather warm with some loud toddlers so I took my mocha and chocolate chip scone outside to eat. I chose wisely. Usually scones are triangular in shape and very dry. Not this one. It was square and moist with a crumble topping. Way tasty! And the mocha was also right up my alley.

Appropriately fortified I headed out on my bike only to be greeted with drizzle. What a shame. The temperature was just right for a bit of a ramble but the wet and gray pretty much ruined my mood. So I rode back toward home in a wide arc of sidestreets.

Coffeeneuring Run #3

Date: October 13

Location: Bread and Water, Belle View Shopping Center. http://www.breadandwatercompany.com

Drink: Large mocha with a chocolate chip scone. Both were delicious.

Observation: I would much rather be hiking but this little trip put a bright spot in a dreary day.

Miles: 20

Coffee and Contrabands

I haven’t ridden in four days. I was away on a business trip Wednesday through Friday. I brought my Bike Friday and intended to ride it after work on Fridat but, alas, twas raining so I just drove home. Yesterday was rainy and cold. Not very inviting biking weather. By evening I was getting irritable, which is a sure thing when I don’t get enough exercise.

So despite feeling really not into it, I jumped on Little Nellie and headed out for a short ride. I took the Mount Vernon Trail to Old Town. The trail was covered in wet leaves so I was extra careful to avoid sudden moves. On Union Street in Old Town I stopped at a stop sign so that a huge SUV coming from my left could (a) not yield to me and (b) roll through its stop sign. Bikes are obviously the problem.

A few blocks further north, I saw a dad and his toddler son get out of an SUV on the opposite side of the street. The little boy had on a plastic green army helmet under a hoodie. As dad turned to close his car door, little boy bolted across the street directly in front of me. I said, “Whoa, dude!” Dad turned around and said, “Sorry.” You might want to keep you “sorries” for mom when you get your kid killed through your negligence, dad.

I rode up King Street in search of coffee. There are about a dozen coffee places to choose from. I made it all the way to the Metro station and turned around. I settled for Dunkin’ Donuts or Dunks as friend of the blog @lkono calls it. (We used to call it Drunkin’ Donuts because most of its late night customers in Providence were piss drunk.) If you ever lived in Massacusetts or Rhode Island you’d know that there are more Dunkin Donuts than traffic lights. In my 11 years in Boston and Providence I must have gone to Dunks 200 of 300 times. I really liked the coffee and minchies. Not anymore. It just tastes funky to me now. The coffee cake muffin I had wasn’t bad though.

On the way home, I stopped at the Freeman’s Cemetery. This cemetery is actually a memorial to a cemetery that was established in 1864 for the runaway slaves who found their way to Union-occupied Alexandria during the Civil War. The Contrabands (as the were originally called on a account of their legal status as property) lived in squalor. Many succumbed to smallpox. Over 1,700 were laid to rest in this cemetery. Over the years the cemetery was repeatedly disturbed by road building and other ventures. The last venture was a Mobil gas station. When the Woodrow Wilson Bridge was replaced, the gas station was removed and a cemetery was restored as a memorial.

Some pix of the cemetery can be found on my Flickr page

Cofffeeneuring Scorecard

Date: October 12

Location: Dunks on King Street near the Metro station in Old Town, Alexandria

Drink: House brew with coffee cake muffin. The muffin was way better than the coffee.

Observation: Dunkin Donuts used to be my default coffee shop when I was in school. What the hell do students know about coffee, anyway?

Miles: 18.5

Coffeeneuring in Car Hell

The fourth annual coffeeneuring challenge is upon us. This challenge entails riding your bike to coffee shops on the weekends and meeting rules that only a randonneur would love. I wasn’t going to do it this year but I had a Sunday to burn and a gift certificate to a new coffee shop burning a whole in my saddle bag.

To me rolling out to get a cup of coffee seems kind of silly since I have a perfectly good coffee maker in my kitchen. So I combined today’s coffee trek with some errands. I started with a ride to the hardware store for some bird seed. Little Nellie, my New Wrold Tourist with little wheels, does a terrifc job of carrying the unbalanced load without making me feel like I’m going to tip over.

Once the seeds were off loaded at home, I turned around and rode the Mount Vernon Trail to Old Town to use an ATM. I could have done this at the Safeway near home but I needed some therapy miles. Call it bikescendental meditation. My brain shuts off, I sing songs badly, I look at the egrets and herons. All is calm.

After ATMing, I headed off to the coffee shop on Telegraph Road south of the beltway. I rode over to the Eisenhower Valley (why does this invoke tanks in my mind) and used the nifty newish trail over the beltway at Telegraph. It drops you right smack dab in the middle of a spaghetti bowl of ramps and traffic lanes going every which way. This being Sunday traffic was light. Riding this on a weekday would take nerves of steel. This sort of road pattern is what I call Car Hell. Car Hell is why Fairfax County is a bike hostile community.

After waiting three minutes for a traffic light, I headed south on Telegraph. The shoulder comes and goes so taking the lane is the only option. People were driving their cars responsible though so it was not an entirely unpleasant experience. Telegraph wends through a hilly area. There was one hill I had to climb (right after Climbhill Rd., I kid you not) and I made it without breathing hard.

A fun downhill led to a left hand turn (always fun) into a strip mall (planned American retail blight). There I found the Grounded Coffee Shop.

I locked Little Nellie to a street sign because, this being Car Hell, there was no bike parking to be found.

Inside I found a very pleasant, kid friendly place (toys and games were placed on shelves and a Lego pit was off to one side). A young man was playing guitar and singing songs for tips.The customers ranged in age from 1 to 70. A student did homework on a laptop.

I ordered tomato soup with chicken and orzo, a banana, and a 16-ounce house coffee (dark roast from the Congo). This being the first crisp fall weekend day in these parts, the warmth of the soup and coffee alone would have made me happy, but they were both top notch. (The banana lacked a certain je ne said quoi, but it is an essential bike food.)

The ride home involved South Kings Highway which included one whopper of a hill. The road has a paved shoulder that comes and goes. And when it goes it just drops off in an way that would mean a trip to the ER. Way to go VDOT!

I managed the hill with the forebearance of some drivers. When confronted with the next, steeper hill bailed out and took side streets until I popped out at US 1 and the entrance to the Hybla Valley strip mall farm. That this monstrosity was actually planned by someone is simply astounding. Fearlessly, Little Nellie took on the mass of cars and we made it through somehow. In fact, in about 5 minutes I was turning onto Parkers Lane using the turn lane and ironically not 30 yards from the spot where my wife was mowed down (actually thrown in the air) by an ex-con driving an SUV, when a driver honked at me. I wasn’t in her way. I wasn’t doing anything illegal. My offense was I was not in a car. Some people need remedial driver’s ed.

So I arrived home unscathed from my first coffeeneuring adventure. Here are some stats:

Date: October 5.

Place: Grounded Coffee Shop, 6919 Telegraph Avenue, Alexandria VA. http://www.groundedcoffeeshop.com

Drink: Congo dark roast, most delicious. Also, pretty darn good tomato chicken and orzo soup.

Observation: Grounded Coffee is a real find. I have $6+ left on my gift certificate and look forward to going back. I’l probably drive though because it’s located in Car Hell.

Miles:19.5

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