I dialed the bike riding back a bit in June, having ridden a bike tour in May. For the month I logged 672.5 miles.As usual most of my miles came from riding to and from work. I commuted by bike 17 times out of 21 work days. The other four were telecommute days. My commuting hoss of choice was Little Nellie (10 times) followed by The Mule (5 times) and 2 on Big Nellie.  My longest ride was only 44 miles on a meander in the city on a weekend. My only ride outside of town was a 38 miler last Sunday with Science Mom. Little Nellie made it to 15,000 somewhere near Sugarloaf Mountain in Maryland

I did manage to get back into hiking. To get warmed up, I did a solo ten miler in Rock Creek Park. I followed that up with a hilly solo 6 1/2 mile hike in Ashby Hollow on the Appalachian Trail was a challenge. My hike up and down White Oak Canyon with Ultrarunnergirl was my first foray in the Shenandoah National Park. It trashed my legs but the view at Hawksbill was worth it.

For the year to date, I’ve ridden 3,791 miles. Eighty three commutes account for 2,533.5 of those miles. I’ve been wearing out The Mule. I’ve ridden it 2,304.5 miles including 50 bike commutes. Pretty good for a bike I bought on sale in 1991.

The second half of the year will probably not have as many biking miles. I plan on being out of the country for two or three weeks in September. I won’t be taking a bike with me but there is a possibility that I can get a ride in on two continents. (With a European vacation in the works for springtime I might get a third continent on wheels next year.)  Depending on scheduling, there’s even a small chance that I may add an eighth 50 States Ride this year. (What can I say, I’m addicted.)

Yesterday it rained and rained and rained. It flooded and flooded and flooded.

Today the weather was nearly perfect for bike riding so I went for a ride in Montgomery County MD with Science Mom. This is not her real name. She is keeping a low social media profile these days. If I told you why, I’d have to kill you. She is in the Bicyclist Protection Program.

We started our ride in Poolesvill and rode clockewise around Sugarloaf which is about ten miles to the north. The roads are really splendid for bike riding. Today, however, they were littered with stones, tree debris, and mud from yesterday’s floods. We chatted as we rolled along, Science Mom on her commuter hybrid, me on Little Nellie, my Bike Friday New World Tourist.

Science Mom hasn’t done any riding except for her five mile commute so the plan was to take it easy and tweak our route based on how she was feeling.

We arrived at the entrance to Sugarloaf, assessed our comfort level, and decided to ride around the mountain on Comus Rd. As it turns out, Comus Road is unpaved to the west of Sugarloaf and paved to the east. We headed west.

The storms of yesterday made for some sketchy riding. The road had a pronounced crown on it. Little Nellie’s wee wheels were making a go of it. Until we came to a ditch across the road. This looked like a drainage channel that had been enlarged by run off from the storm. I had to come to a fast stop else Little Nellie’s front wheel would have been eaten by the ditch and I’d have been launched over the handlebars.

Then I heard Science Mom, “Whoa. Whoa. Oh no!” I turned expecting her to rear end me. She had come to a stop about ten feet behind me but her clipless pedals would not disengage from her feet. Over she went to her right. The crown of the road added to the distance she fell. The huge mud puddle on the road’s edge made for a rather comical splashdown.

“Should I take a picture?” I asked tongue firmly in cheek.

After I had my laugh I took off her left sandal which allowed her to stand up. Neither foot unclipped which may have been a good thing. She had a boo boo on her right knee and a wet jersey but otherwise she had survived the crash swimmingly (sorry).

She wrapped her knee in a bandana and got her shoes back on. A silver minivan approached from the far side of the trench. I warned them to slow down. They made it across the trench and stopped. In the shotgun seat sat Mathilde, a friend from Friday Coffee Club, on her way to a hiking outing on Sugarloaf. We had a nice chat and gave her directions to the parking areas on the mountain.

Back underway we took it easy but the road didn’t. Hill after hill. None of them particularly brutal but not the kind of thing you want to be dealing with after whacking your knee on the ground.

Science Mom plugged along. We finally found a paved road and headed north. We were expecting sunny skies which would have really enhanced the already splendid views. The overcast kept the temperatures down. This was a blessing as the roads back south were hillier. We especially liked the aptly named Peach Tree Road, a windy, shaded, hilly, rural masterpiece.

I think I messed up a couple of turns but it didn’t matter. All the roads in this area are bike heaven, which explains why we saw dozens of bike riders enjoying the day.

I had raised my seat about a quarter of an inch before the ride. This caused my quads to burn for the first ten miles. They calmed down but later in the ride my lower back was not happy. (I’ll give it a few more days.)

Even with a sore back, riding today was effortless. I was in cruise control for all but a few of the hills.

On the drive back we took the scenic route along River Road. Or we tried to. The rains had so soaked the ground that we saw trees toppled over all over the place. The last one was right across River Road. Good thing nobody was under it.

Despite her crash, Science Mom was pretty happy with how the day turned out. She doesn’t get to do this sort of thing very often.

Little Nellie was happy too. She turned 15 during the ride.

It’s raining in DC. I have had a pretty good week of four bike commutes (and one telework day). Riding today isn’t going to happen. So I will spend my day scanning old slides into jpeg format. So far I haven’t found any with me and my childhood bikes. Apparently, I was a skeptical boy in those days. I did, however, have awesome jammies.

I’m spending the rest of the day scanning some more photos. The results are on my Flickr page.

Stay dry.

Yellow band in the present moment.

From Heaven to heaven.

The cruelest April Fool.

White roses and a smile.

The teacher cannot learn.

Couldn’t take it any more.

The sky’s the limit.

I had every intention of doing a lot of hiking this spring and summer but, well, you know. So last weekend I kicked off my hiking year with a 10 miler in Rock Creek Park. This was way more than I should have done, but it was fun. I even got a little lost – which is something I am good at.

Today I woke up early and drove to the western facing side of the Mount Weather in the Blue Ridge Mountains. After some interesting driving on windy roads, one of which was unpaved, I found the unmarked trailhead. It’s just a point on the Appalachian Trail that crosses this dirt road. I was expecting a sign. Good thing the directions I got from Hikingupward.com were spot on or I’d still be driving around up there.

After smearing myself with sunscreen and big spray, I headed into the woods on the trail. Ahhhh. I was instantly transported back to my childhood when I spent hours and hours in the woods near my home in Albany. In my mind I was in the wilderness but I was never more than a mile from home. This, however, was mighty close to wilderness. It was silent. The canopy of leaves provided relief from the summer sun. All I could hear was the sound of my footfalls, the leaves blowing in the the breeze, the birds calling., and the sound of my breathing.

The first half mile was downhill, sometimes straight, sometimes meandering through chicanes. The footting was fine. There were plenty of rocks and tree roots to force me to focus on the ground in front of me. As I made my way, I suddenly realized this is the goddamned Appalachian Trail!

This section of the AT is called the Roller Coaster, which perfectly describes the terrain: down, up, and around. After a half mile, I came to a bridge across a stream at the base of the hill. On the other side the trail rose for 0.9 miles to a ridge. I realized: nobody’s here! Solitude.

This ended in a few minutes. I came upon a through hiker. He had a big pack on his back and looked like he’d been in the woods for a long time. A few minutes later a trail runner came bounding past. How the hell do you run on this terrain, in this heat and humidity, with all these rocks and roots on the trail? He was smiling. Go dude!

The trail reaches the ridge then drops through a saddle to another stream. This one had no bridge, just a mess of rocks to play hopscotch on.

After this stream I missed a turn (I never did find the blaze) and hiked up a fire road. I didn’t realize my mistake until the road came to a T with no blazes in either direction. I took the Robert Frost route until the foliage overtook the road. Oops. Turn around. Not wanting to hike back down the hill to the last blaze, I took the anti-Robert Frost route. The fire road intersected the trail and I was back in business.

Going up to another ridge. This one has splendid views of the Shenandoah Valley during the winter but for now I would have to be content with a sea of green. The trail instructions that I downloaded said to keep hiking until I came upon a “rocky are with views of the west.” Without the views to the west it was kind of hard to tell when to stop. So, of course, I didn’t.

Did I mention it was hot and humid?

I was soaked in sweat. I was wearing a knapsack containing six water bottles. I felt like and inverse Jacques Cousteau.

I kept going until the trail turned downhill. At this point I figured I must be past the turnaround point. So I turned around. I celebrated by eating some crackers and pop tarts as I headed back. If anyone had come along the conversation would have gone something like this.

“Hello”

“Mmrrmmff”

The way back seemed much faster at first. Of course, I was going downhill at first. I was looking down at the trail to make sure I didn’t turn an ankle on the rocks when I saw it. A tan colored snake right where my foot was about to go. I don’t know much about snakes but he didn’t have a rattle so I figured he was harmless. I picked it up and licked it.

Just kidding. I gave it a wide berth. I don’t like snakes.

On the way down the hill I saw where I had made my mistake. There was actually a sign saying AT North but no corresponding sign saying AT South.

I passed another overnight hiker, this time a woman in her late 20s or early 30s. (For all I know she could have been 40.) She looked like she had just started, but had been hiking for a least an hour. Tough girl.

I reached the bottom of a hill and headed back up. I could hear the sound of boys making a lot of noise. So much for solittude. I reached a ridge and there were the boys splayed out on a wide spot on the trail. They were junior high age, doing an overnight hike with a couple of dads keeping them out of trouble.

They quieted down as I worked my way through their supine bodies. Enjoy the bugs and dirt, kids.

I kept on keeping on with the sound of my feet for company. I pulled up when I saw a huge black snake. Dang. There must be a whole lot of snake food in these hills.

On my way back up the last 1/2 mile to the car, I passed a through hiker resting. His shirt was off, hanging on a tree branch. His stuff was spread all about. “Gotta take a break in this heat,” he said as I plodded past.  No kidding, dude.

The last bit up to the car was the steepest part of the hike. This was not unlike my Sugarloaf hike.

Suddenly, I emerged from the woods and there were the cars. When I parked there was only one car, now there were eight.

I was totally soaked. And it felt wonderful.

After the Sugarloaf hike, I thought that hiking is better with other people. Not anymore. This solo hike was like a mental massage. My mind was completely relaxed as I took my pack off.

There will be more hikes. Many, many more. Some solo. Some with friends. Wanna go?

Here are some pix.

I worked from home today. I spent most of my time fretting about the crew replacing the gas line to the house. There were backhoes and sweaty men and tampers and a big truck with a Mud Dog whatever that is. They finished up after six or seven hours in the heat. So far nothing has gone BOOM.

My daughter took off for a concert in Maryland (something about Mumford and his kids) and my wife was doing yoga, so I was on my own for dinner. I decided to ride The Mule to Old Town and rustle myself up some grub.  Before I did I sent a tweet out just in case someone else might be up thataway.

I decided to have fish and chips at Eamonns. While waiting for food, I checked my mobile device and learned from Bob (Don’t Call Me Rachel) Cannon that a tall ship was docked in Old Town. I had thought it was coming tomorrow so I was pretty happy to get a chance to go check it out. L’Hermione is a replica of a French vessel built in 1780. Lafayette convinced the king of France to build it and send it to the colonies so that the upstarts could kick some British ass. Merci beaucoup, Marquis.

A later tweet told me that Kathy Lewis was in Old Town to do pretty much the same thing as me. An Instagram post told me that Linel was taking a yoga class a few blocks away and planned to check out the Hermione as well.

I had already ordered food and she had already locked up her bike so I ate and rode down to meet her at Virtue, a tony eatery owned by the same people who own Eamonn’s.

We sat and drank a beer and talked about the quirks of friendship: how some require no maintenance and are lifelong while others are impermanent, falling apart without explanation.

We moved our dicussion outdoors and made our way to the Hermione. The crowds were plenty big for a weeknight. I am sure the place will be mobbed this weekend. He stood and admired the beautiful rigging, sails, and woodwork. It boggles my mind that a ship this small can survive the stresses of the North Atlantic.

We turned to leave and in short order ran into Linel. We chatted for 20 minutes as the sunlight began to fade. Both Kathy and I practically drooled over her beautiful bike. (Sorry I didn’t think to take a picture.)

I had neglected to bring a headlight and Kathy needed to get to bed early so the three of us went our separate ways.

The ride home in the fading daylight was fun, except for the bugs. It’s that time of year when you ride through clouds of bugs on the trail. I concentrated on keeping my mouth shut and hoped none would get in my ears. I made it almost all the way home before BUZZZZZ. A fly went right in my ear. Ack!

I made it home grateful for the wonders of social media. What could have been a solitary, out and back ride turned into quite an interesting night.

Today’s commute started out splendidly. I wore a t-shirt that has grown in the last few weeks. I think this may be a result of the bike tour I did last month. Nice surprise.

The ride to work on The Mule was uneventful for the most part. I was in my usual trance until I made it to Union Street in Old Town. There I found myself following a BMW station wagon with Maryland plates. It was inching along the street. I tried passing on the right and it drifted to the right. I moved back left and it moved back. Then it came to a stop right in the middle of the lane.

I decide to hell with this nonsense and passed the car on the left. The driver was fiddling with his cell phone. I yelled something non-vulgar as I rode by shaking my head demonstratively.

I continued workward with a nice breeze that made my oddly large t-shirt flap along the sides. When I came to the bridge just before the troll bridge (the boardwalk underneath the TR Bridge) I spotted an odd duck sitting on a mud flat in the river. It was a snow goose. I thought it might be dead because it was positioned awkwardly and was not moving. It was still there in the evening and was moving around quite gracefully.

When I arrived at my office I had another surprise. Kelly is a co-worker who sits in a cubicle just outside my office. She is a runner and skier who is recovering from hip surgery. The doctor has cleared her for non-impact activity. For the last few weeks she’s been picking my brain about bike commuting. She had her old mountain bike fixed up with new tires and some other basic maintenance work. This weekend she took it for a test ride. Apparently it was a big success because today she went for it; she rode to work for the first time! She was totally stoked about the experience.

Striking while the iron was hot, I told her about DC Bike Party, Friday Coffee Club, Wednesday Coffee Club, 3rd Thursday Happy Hour, the Donut Crawl, and the Bicycle Space social rides.  I had her at “cupcakes.”

The ride home was a not so big surprise. It is summer here in DC and that means evening thunder storms. I knew from the weather warnings that I would not make it all the way home before the rains hit. I was hoping to get to an underpass near National Airport but my luck ran out about 1/4 mile from it. I’d have kept riding in the rain but there was lightning and I was in no hurry so I took shelter under the bridge.

I always say that I am less concerned about the rain than I am about the wind. There were several large limbs on the trail as I headed south from the bridge. I later learned that a tree had fallen across the trail at the 14th Street Bridge where I could have waited out the storm. Eek.

Once the rain stopped I headed home. Within 20 minutes the sun came out. By the time I got home my clothes were dry.

It’s summer in DC.