Riding a bike in DC can bring you sights you might never see. There were scores of pictures from my #bikedc friends and me of cherry blossoms this week. Yesterday morning I rode Big Nellie so that I could get a better view of the bald eagle nests on my way to work.  At the Tulane nest, I spotted a bald eagle as it hopped out of the nest and perched on an adjacent branch. I pulled over to get a picture but by the time I had my camera ready it flew away. One flap, two flaps and off it went banking hard to the right into the thick of the trees along the trail. It banked left, then right again swooping among the trees. It put on quite a show. The rest of the way was just one fine ride to work. It’s that time of year.

After work I rode through the city to meet up with a friend for a beer (or four). I was a little freaked out about the prospect of riding Big Nellie in rush hour city traffic, especially in light of the fact that the Speedplay Frog cleats on both my cycling shoes are worn out. I managed to clip and unclip without incident but I did nearly get doored from the left side. A passenger hopped out of a car into the bike lane I was riding in. Had I been a second or two slower he’d have hit me with the door for sure.

I met up with Katie (@flyingovertrout on Twitter – don’t ask) at the Right Proper Brewing Company. It was a nice night so we sat outside at a picnic table. Katie had her back to the Howard Theater next door to Right Proper. Some sort of event, perhaps a fund raiser, was being held in the theater. Limos kept pulling up and the rattle-your-jewelry crowd was popping out of them. Then I look up and there is Colin Powell with Alma, his wife. They posed for a formal picture in front of a backdrop in front of the theater. Katie and I had fun swapping stories about random encounters with famous politcians. Fun fact: our national leaders buy TVs and drink alcohol just like their constituents.

After a couple of hours, Katie led me down 7th Street. She being a city dweller rides the streets like the eagle in the trees. I was having considerably more difficulty clipping in and out. And the sensitive steering of my recumbent seemed even more so. Katie peeled off for home and I managed to ride through the city unscathed. I even avoided getting hit by a slow moving cab that did a u-turn in front of me near Pennsylvania Avenue. (“What are you doooo-ing??!!!!”)

I took the empty Madison Drive along the mall to 15th and the Washington Monument. Soon I was cruising around the Tidal Basin and on to the 14th Street Bridge. Once in Virginia I had the treat of riding in the dark on a 60 degree night with the Mount Vernon Trail nearly all to myself.

Today’s ride featured no bald eagle sightings on the way to work. I did notice that the big birds that were hanging around the Belle Haven nest had white bellies which means they are probably ospreys not eagles. It was so nice out in the evening I did two loops down to Hains Point in DC on the way home. After my little diversion I rode south on the Mount Vernon Trail where I passed the year’s second northboung bike tourist. In Old Town, the bike advocates were out reminding cycists to stop at the intersection of Union adn King Streets. Unlike the other day, I managed to unclip and avoid embarrasment.

At the Tulane nest I stopped to check out the back end of an eagle. It was sticking out of the edge of the nest, flapping from time to time. Unlike the Powells, he refused to pose for pictures.

As I watched the Nationals game, I replaced the cleats on my bike shoes. Maybe now I can ride without fear of an Arte Johnson moment.

Today was a pretty amazing bike commute. I had recently started to ride a less direct route from my house to the Mount Vernon Trail. Previously I would ride a diagonal route and pick up the trail at Tulane Drive, about two miles south of the beltway. This route is the shortest and has a fun downhill on Park Terrace. My new route picks up the trail about a mile or so further south at the stone bridge (Alexandria Avenue). I pass up the fun downhill but get to check out the Morningside bald eagle nest.

This morning there wasn’t any action at the Morningside nest. Another three quarters of a mile further north, I passed a cyclist who was riding slowly and craning his neck to look up into the trees next to the trail. I looked up and spotted a big eagle nest. This one is the biggest of the four I know about and may be bigger than the hard to spot nest in Fort Hunt Park. The cyclists said the nest was definintely occupied with eaglets so I can’t wait to check it out some more.

The rest of the ride in was splendid. The weather is really sublime these last few days. As I do every year, I rode into the city and walked around the Tidal Basin where the biggest crowds gather to check out the cherry trees in bloom. Today was the very last day of peak blossoms. The walk as always did not disappoint. It’s hard to take a bad picture of the cherry blossoms. I thought I had done well, but my friend Emila came down later in the day and took pictures that blew mine out of the water. Unfortunately she doesn’t have a public account that I can link to so you’ll have to take my word for it.

After 8 plus hours of work or something resembling it, I headed back to the city for a ride in East Potomac Park. The road to Hains Point is lined with blooming trees and it is also a favorite place for after work cycling. The traffic on Buckeye Drive at the western end of the Hains Point loop was gawdawful. Once I cleared the backup I rode to Hains Point alone. Along the way I could clearly see that driver after driver was on his or her cell phone, sometimes talkng, sometimes taking pictures, sometimes texting. It’s a wonder nobody got hit. At the point I failed to notice that Ryan was yelling “ROOTCHOPPER” at me. He was there having a picnic with his wife.

As I I reached the turn to head for the point a second time, I spotted Chris and Dave hanging out. Soon Rudy joined us and we headed back to the point. Despite their conversational pace they nearly dropped me. They slowed a bit to allow me to catch up.

After the second lap I headed for home knowing that I had a strong headwind to deal with for 12 miles. Yesterday’s 48 hilly miles were zonking my legs. I stopped to take the above picture of the bald eagle nest. A passing runner said there were eagles at yet another nest on an island in the river. This is NUTS!!! Four nests in three miles. I am not entirely sure that these were eagles and that the nest was an eagles nest but I’ll see if any of my readers can figure it out from this picture.

The only downside to todays’ riding was the fact that I learned that Mary, Aaron, Brian, Ricky, Megan, and Katie were all down in the same area at about the same times I was. How I missed so many #bikedc peeps I’ll never know.

In two days I’ve ridden 89 1/2 miles. I am a tad tired. Tomorrow it is supposed to rain. To save my legs, I’ll bike commute from the car dealer in North Arlington in the rain.

Here are more pictures from today’s ride.

Yesterday was Mrs. Rootchopper’s birthday. Right on schedule the two young men from the Hybla Valley Nursery delivered her weeping cherry tree. It replaces a dead silver maple transplanted last year. Since I had to plant the cherry tree alone (Mrs. Rootchopper had to work. Don’t get me started on her employer!) I had pretty much one shot at getting the heavy root ball into the hole. The nursery folks advised widening the hole that I had already dug. So I did. Then, with fingers crossed, I dropped the root ball into the hole. PEFECTION!!!! My father’s gardening gene really helped I think.

In celebration I took the holy sweater to the dry cleaner. After that I drove to get Mrs.RC some candy and flowers.

Then I mowed the lawn.

While I was doing all of this, I was also doing three loads of laundry. And I didn’t shrink anything. (I lost 6 socks but nobody’s perfect.)

Last night I watched Boston U, my alma mater, play for the national championship in college hockey. They score four goals. Providence College scored three. Providence won. BU’s goalie inadvertantly kicked the puck in his own net.

I needed some outdoors therapy. So this morning I put Big Nellie on the back of my car and drove to The Plains Virginia for some country riding. I rode up Bull Run Mountain. It wasn’t bad. The ride down was very steep in spots. I would have loved to let it rip but the road is not in the best condition so I had to feather my brakes often. There were stone fences and horses and mountain vistas. The trees have not quite leafed but there were flowers and blooming trees and blossoming shrubs and hills. Did I mention the hills? Recumbent bikes don’t much like hills. Going up them at least. Neither do my glass knees. If you want to do street luge you gotta climb the hills.

Spin, spin, spin. 

Yeeeehah!

Repeat. About 20 times.

During the fun I missed a turn because I was using a 10 year old cue sheet. So much for my 44 mile day.

I rode into Middleburg and Marshall and Rectortown and Atoka, in declining order of excitement.

But I really wasn’t after excitement. I wanted a nice long, not-too-hard, ride during which I could contemplate nothin, enjoy an earworm,  and sing badly and get a halfway decent workout. Misson accomplished.

I regret to report that I neglected to get an OBS (Obligatory Barn Shot) or a OCS (Obligatory Cow Shot). This means that I will get a black mark from Mary the Randonista. I deserve it, I’m afraid.

Tomorrow I plan on hitting the tidal basin on the way to work. Not literally as it is filled with water. I am going to walk around it under the cherry blossoms as long as they are still in good shape. Based on the 2,798,345 pictures I have on my social media feeds I suspect I will get a decent show.

I did not get the photography gene in my family. This genetic anomaly has not kept me from taking photos. So today I present some less than amazing pictures from today’s bike commuting extravaganza.

First, the obligatory cherry blossoms in the gloom picture I took on my way to Friday Coffee Club.

It’s hard to get a depressing picture or the cherry blossoms in all their glory but I managed to pull it off.

The Mount Vernon Trail in addition to being my main route to work is also a part of several interstate bicycle touring networks. On the way home I spotted yet another sight of spring: the year’s first bicycle tourist. I pulled out my camera and promptly misfired. So I took this picture over my shoulder.

There he is. Four panniers and a handlebar bag with a map. He even gave me a big smile thinking I was actually taking a picture of his face.

Oh well.

Tomorrow I will attempt to help Mrs. Rootchopper celebrate her birthday. I will probably not get any good pictures of the event. I caught a weather report on one of the Spanish language channels tonight and even though I don’t speak Spanish I could tell that “excelente” and “fin de semana” means the tiempo will be muy buen for a bike ride. I hope to do one on Sunday.

Today is Easter so I got up at dawn and went to church.

Just kidding.

I slept in and went to brunch with a bunch of grad school friends. We had good eats, coffee, wine and mimosas under beautiful blue skies.

Today is the last day of winter according to the Rootchopper Institute. This is because opening day in DC is tomorrow when the Washington Nationals trot out the most badass looking crew of starting pitchers I’ve ever seen. When you number 6 starter won 15 games last year you are loaded for bear. In the words of my son, it’s filthy. I haven’t been this stoked for a baseball season since 1975 when the Red Sox trotted out three young players named  Lynn, Rice and Burleson. THAT was filthy. And by the time they were done in October, they helped resurrect the popularity of baseball. (Of course, they lost in the seventh game of the series but we’ll always have the sixth game and Bernie Carbo’s blast to centerfield.)

Oh, wait this is a bicycling blog, isn’t it.

After the brunch we came home and I had to go out for a ride. I sat down on Big Nellie, clipped in and promptly fell over. Thankfully, I was on grass at the time. This also demonstrates one of the big advantages of recumbents over conventional bikes. When you fall off a conventional bike you have a whole lot farther to fall. I fell because I didn’t want to take the chance of messing up my knee by unclipping superfast.

Off I rode, aware of the fact that I had better get the mimosas out of my system pronto. I picked up the Mount Vernon Trail and headed toward Alexandria with a tailwind. Life is good. I stopped at the Morningside bald eagle nest but didn’t see any activity. I always amuses me when cyclist ride by oblivious to the nest. I suppose this is a good thing becase more people hanging out would probably cause the nest to be abandoned.

The trail was quite crowded so I decided to ride over the Wilson Bridge to get away from the crowds. Riding down the spiral ramp on the Maryland side with mimosas still in your system is an interesting experience.

I rode up the long hill to Oxon Hill Road. It is always a slog but on a recumbent it is a workout. By the time I made it to the top, the mimosas had left my system. This is a good thing becasue the ride back down was about 1/2 mile at 30+ miles per hour with a high speed merge at the bottom. Weeee.

I rode back across the river and headed back home. Just past Belle View Boulevard I spotted a hornets nest hanging from a tree limb about 12 feet off the ground. Hornets are not very active in cool weather so seeing this nest was a bit of a surprise. I don’t recall it being there on Friday morning either.

On the ride home I stopped and sat on a bench on a hill above the Parkway. I took in the river and the budding trees and the blue skies.

A lovely end to Rootchopper winter.

As for tomorrow I have only two words:

PLAY BALL.

Oh, and one other thing: THERE IS NO WRONG PIPE.

I know it was the week of April Fools Day but I was really not prepared for some of the strange happenings this week. Monday went by uneventfully. Then on Tuesday, I managed to nearly get hit twice in the span of about 3 minutes. Wednesday I got revenge by nearly t-boning my boss’s BMW. On the way to work on Thursday I spotted vultures in a tree next to the trail. In the evening I decided to take in the blossoms (which were nonexistent) in East Potomac Park. On my first lap of Hains Point I spotted a sail boat capsizing in the Washington Channel. The two sailors were clingning to the boat trying to right it but the mighty wind kept frustrating it. The sailors were wearing life vests but the water had to be numbing them. Eventually, with some help, they got the boat back upright.

Yesterday proved to be a fittingly weird ending. I rode to Friday Coffee Club on The Mule. It was warm so shorts and shirts sleeves were the order of the day. I had a strong tailwind the entire way which made up for Thursday night’s brutal headwind. We sat outside for the first time in months. It was dry outside until about 8:15 when a light rain passed through. As we were leaving, Will clipped into his bike, slipped on a manhole cover and went down with a thud. There was pain. Here was the first casualty of Friday Coffee Club. The clear cause of this calamity was insufficient caffeination. Oh the humanity.

A security guard did a nice job of checking on him and summoning an ambulance which arrived in minutes. He was soon whisked away to the George Washington University Hospital emergency room a few blocks away. The fall had cause his shoulder to re-separate. The doctors popped it back in and he reportedly was back at work before noon. Ozzie cyclists are tough.

As for me I managed to get to work without catastrophe. The ride home was somewhat surreal. The office was quiet as this was Good Friday. I left a bit early and rode home. After a couple of miles, I stopped to celebrate. The Mule’s odometer turned 37,000 miles.

Just south of the Dyke Marsh bridge I rode past something in the trail. It couldn’t be. Yep, it was the head and spine of a Canada goose. Probably eaten by an early bike tourist headed north. Gross.

So I am grateful that I survived the week without being hit or eaten or falling down go boom.

This morning’s ride to work was a nonchalant affair. Big Nellie and I had big fun doing the street luge thing on the downhill on Park Terrace Drive. It was coldish and my eyes teared up as we approached 30 miles per hour. Nothing wakes me up like blindly riding a bike downhill to my doom.

The cruise up through Old Town was uneventful. Near the power plant a runner was standing on the side of the trail. She was checking out two vultures perched in a tree. By the time I got my phone out one had moved to an adjacent tree. Unfortunately, the vulture looks tiny in the picture. I took these carrion feeders as an omen.

Somehow, omen or not, I managed to get through the Intersection of Doom without becoming vulture chow.

Temperatures rose into the low 70s so I decided to go down to Hains Point to check out the progrees with the cherry blossoms. Not much doing on the blossom front I am afraid, but considering how hard the wind was blowing that is probably a good thing. How hard was the wind blowing? So glad you asked. It was blowing hard enough to capsize this little sail boat in Washington channel. It looked like a sailing class was underway. There was a motor boat to come to the rescue. The boat first completely capsized then they started righting it and the wind pushed the sail down to the water. After several tries the boat was righted and the two folks bobbing in the water with their life vests on could be pulled out. I image they were freezing their noo noos off.

After a couple of laps around Hains Point, I headed for home into a fierce headwind. As I approached National Airport the wind was so strong that it slowed me down to about 7 miles per hour. And I was spinning my ass off.

Even with the wind, the ride home was fun and much nicer than riding in February.

April, more drama, less frostbite.

Today’s bike commute began like most others with one big exception. Big Nellie, my Tour Easy recumbent, got the call for the first time this year. Whenever I switch from one bike to another it takes me a while to adapt to feel of the new bike.

Riding Big Nellie is so different from riding The Mule that riding it seems like a different sport entirely. It’s more like pedaling a luge sled than biking. Riding up hill on a recumbent is tedious. Obviously, you can’t stand up to gain leverage. The steering is so sensitive compared to a conventional bike that you can’t use your arms. And for some reason, if you mash the pedals your knees will self destruct. The only remaining option is to spin like a maniac. It helps to have clipless pedals. On a recumbent the pedals are not below your torso, they are in front of your torso. Without clipless pedals you end up exerting a good deal of energy just keeping your feet in contact with the pedals.

In the past it could take several days to get my bent legs. Nowadays, having ridden the bike over 37,800 miles, my legs instantly adapt. The first few miles went by like a flash. This was especially true for the downhill on Park Terrace Drive. I can reach 35 miles per hour without too much effort. It feels much more like luge than cycling.

There was a light coating of ice on the boardwalk over Dyke Marsh on the Mount Vernon Trail. I very carefully slowed to check out the sunrise.

I like the sunbeam.

After my little respite I had 12 more miles to go. The heads up position of riding a recumbent makes bald eagle watching much easier. Unfortunately I didn’t see any today. The crisp morning air made up for the lack of raptors though.

I made it through the Rosslyn Intersection of Doom unscathed. I rolled down the sidewalk to my office building. Just as I was about to turn left into the garage, a big, black BMW turned off the road and directly in front of me. I went to take my feet off the pedals but nothing happened. I forgot I was clipped in. Eek. I didn’t panic, stayed upright and extricated my feet from the pedals just before t-boning the BMW.  It turns out the driver was the head of the agency. My boss’s boss. Career advice: never t-bone the boss’s boss’s car with your bike.

Fortunately he had a good sense of humor about the incident.

I still have a job to ride my bike to.

So today’s lesson: don’t t-bone the boss’s car. It’s bad form.

The ride home involved no t-boning incidents. I learn fast.

After two really frustrating months, I managed to bounce back nicely in March. The first few days were rides in the basement. I estimate that they were the equivalent of 59 miles. all on my Tour Easy recumbent.

Once the ice melted on the roads and trails I got back to bike commuting in earnest. I rode The Mule to work 14 times and 425 miles. I rode Little Nellie, my Bike Friday New World Tourist, to work once. It was a 38.5 mile commute because I ncluded two laps around Hains Point on the warmest evening of the not so new year. So my 15 bike commutes total 464 miles.

The rest of my rides were weekend errand rides.

All told I rode 614.5 miles in March. For the year I have 32 bike commutes. My total mileage is 1,426.5 miles.

Sidebar: Today was an interesting commute that could have cost me my life. The last quarter mile of my commute involves riding down a sidewalk from the Mount Vernon Trail to the garage in my building. As I was about to enter a crosswalk leaving the MVT, a driver of a big black SUV blew through the red light and took a right on red without stopping. He looked left to see if he could beat the traffic coming from that direction but never glanced at anybody who might be about to use the crosswalk coming from his right. This, I believe, is exactly how my wife was hit nearly four years ago. Of course, Mr. SUV was on his cell phone. Two blocks later it happened again. Another black SUV. Another driver looking left and turning right. If I was half as careless as either of these drivers my wife would be making funeral arrangements right now.

Be careful out there.