Giving Thanks

: Mi Bella Espousa.

It has been an extraordinary year. So at the risk of leaving something or someone out, it is time for me to give thanks to all my #bikedc peeps including:

Thanks to Rachel “Don’t Call Me Bob” Cannon. I am thankful that you’re back on the bike. Also, thanks for the fritter caper, the best laugh of the year. Best (only) handmade postcard, too.

Thanks to Bob “Don’t Call Me Rachel” Cannon for publicizing the Intersection of Doom. I won’t confuse you with Rachel if you promise to buy me a fritter.

Thanks to Charmaine for Coastal Carolina trip. It was a long way for some amazing sunrises and some decent rides. Finally bagged my 15th state in the process.

Thanks to John Roche for the Soppy 100. Maybe we’ll get it right next year. At least there was no blood this time.

Thanks to Mike and Lisa for hosting the 50 States rest stop again. And giving me a banner day. I guess this means I’ll be back.

Thanks to Kirstin for getting lost, as well as going long and short with me. Let’s do a hike next year. You lead this time. Just follow the yellow blazes.

Thanks to the 50 States rookies: Kristen, Elizabeth, Jeremy, and mi bella espousa Emilia. It was one of my favorite rides ever. Also, thanks to Michael B for helping lead. We’d be in Canada if not for you.

Thanks to Mary for waaaay too much coffee. Without you I wouldn’t know half these people. All from a picture at the start of the 50 States Ride, no less.

Thanks to Ed for the invite to the Nats game. The game was a dud but the post game ride home in the dark was major league.

Thanks to Lisa for the windy day in Bethany Beach (and so many other rides). It’s always a pleasure to see your muppet face.

Thanks to the Haute Dogs 100 crew, including Justin, Ryan and Ted. I’ll take my ride with the works.

Thanks to Reba (and Robert) for finally doing a non-commute with me. Can we go back to that first Pumpkin rest stop, please?

Thanks to Brian for Gear Prudence. That feeling between the legs made me cry.

Thanks to Kathy Lewis for the happy hours. And for reminding me that memorials are for the living. Glad I went.

Thanks to Michelle, Nellie, Colin, Greg, Shane, and the rest of the WABA crew for advocating and eventing me to death. Hey, Michelle, we could use a heat stroke ride next July.

Thanks to Aaron for telling me about Artcrank DC. I hope it comes back next year. You’ll have to top your fab 2014 poster somehow.

Thanks to Jacques for Hugo and Green Eggs and Ham.

Thanks to Florencia for coming back. I missed you so. Happiness is not just a tattoo. We rode bikes, spent summer days in the park, did an autumn hike, and painted ladders to heaven.

Happy Thanksgiving y’all.

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.

October 2014 by the Numbers

I didn’t do half bad in October considering the disruptions. I missed three days of riding due to a business trip. Then another day for a memorial service. And then two days for a wake and funeral. So I ended up riding only 22 days. 16 of those rides were commutes. One of the commutes was a whopping 3 ½ miles to and from a car mechanic instead of home.

My total mileage was 644.5. Commuting miles were 472.5. The rest of the rides were for errands, coffeeneuring, and the Great Pumpkin Ride.

Bike of the month was Little Nellie, my Bike Friday New World Tourist. I rode it 309 miles. Big Nellie came in second place at 250.5 miles. And The Mule got some action at 85 miles.

So far this year I’ve ridden to work 143 times. 62/51/30 for Little Nellie/Big Nellie/The Mule. I’ve ridden 6,641 miles so far. With 2989 on Little Nellie.

Highlights of the month were the Great Pumpkin Ride with Lisa, and Reba and Robert which had splendid weather and amazing food. And yet another hike, this time with Florencia and Sundance, who made for excellent companions on Sugarloaf Mountain.

The lowlights of the month, at least wth regard to cycling, were the theft of a bike (not mine) and a pump (mine) from the bike parking area at work. I learned a few days ago that another bike commuter had his bike tampered with last week.

I hope to get in one or two more hikes and another ride event in the final two months of the year. Onward.

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.

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

September by the Numbers

I made a pretty good show of it in September on my three bikes. Yes, three. The Mule, my now ancient Specialized Sequoia, came out of the shed for an epic bike commute on the last Friday of the month. I finally got around to using the bike valet at Nationals Park. It was my first commute on the Mule since late May. I mostly rode Big Nellie, my Tour Easy recumbent, to work and Little Nellie, my Bike Friday New World Tourist, for events. Here’s how it stacked up.

19 commutes for 573.5 miles. 16 were on Big Nellie.

3 event rides all on Little Nellie including an abbreviated 46-mile ride at Indian Head, Maryland with Ultrarunnergirl. Next came the 50 States Ride with the rookies. The last ride was my first full Backroads Century, again with Ultrarunnergirl.

Total miles for the month was 793.

Many thanks to all those folks who rode with me, or waved as they sped past me on my rides to work or during events. I may be fat but I’m slow. Extra thanks to Ultrarunnergirl who endured my company for nearly 150 miles. And extra, extra thanks to the 50-States rookies and the official rookie support team. And to Mike Ross and Lisa Eaker who make riding to the rest stop at their house the highlight of the ride.

So far this year, I’ve ridden to work 127 times. My total commuting mileage is 3661. Including all other rides, I’ve gone 5,996.5 miles.

Too Soon Gone

Before Friday night’s baseball game began, I checked my Facebook page on my phone. I noticed that my friend Florencia had replaced her profile picture with a shot of her and her friend Lorena. The picture was taken at Flor’s birthday picnic a few weeks ago in Meridian Hill Park. Flor is sitting on her knees holding a small glass vase of white roses that I gave her. Lorena is sitting behind her to her side with an arm around her shoulder. The best of friends marking yet another special occasion together.

Lorena and Florencia have been friends for a long time. They are both from Argentina and they both came to the US to work as au pairs over 15 years ago. They shared the adventure of living in a new land and growing through young adulthood. Florencia’s Facebook page has literally dozens of pictures of Lorena and Florencia through the years. Lorena’s face always stands out, strinkingly beautful with an ever-present radiant smile.

Despite the fact that we both have been to several of the same social gatherings, I barely know Lorena. We always seem to be on the opposite side of the room or the picnic blanket. I know this much about her. She is someone Florencia loves to the bone. My sense is she is Flor’s older sister, confidant, mentor, protector, cherished friend. It has always been my intent to talk to her but for whatever reason it just never happens.

As I left the birthday picnic and rolled up my blanket, I looked over at Lorena and realized that once again I had not had the chance to talk with her. “Next time for sure,” I thought.

There will be no next time.

On Thursday night, Lorena Gimenez, loving mother, wife, daughter, sister, and friend, died. She was struck by a Fairfax Connector bus as she was walking home from the Huntington Metro station.

She is the fifth person, all women, of my acquaintance who has been hit by a motor vehicle in the last 2 1/2 years in the DC area.

I am no stranger to sudden death of people before their time. It never gets easier. The shock is always there. Every time I’ve spontaneously said “Oh, no. It can’t be.”

Yet it can.

My condolences to Lorena’s husband and daughter and to her parents, sister, and friends.

Lorena’s friends are asking for donations to help defray the cost of her memorial service. The costs will likely be substantial since they include flying her parents and sister up from Argentina. If you would like to help, please make a donation at the link below. Any amount would help.

[Link Removed]

Rest in peace, Lore.

To my friend, Florencia. Whatever you need, whenever you need it. Just contact me.

From Dawn to Midnight – Another Day in #Bikedc

Friday means only one thing: Friday Coffee Club. Unfortunately, late September means DARK. I left before 7 am with my Light and Motion Stella light strapped to my helmet. This is my fourth season using the Stella. It seems to work just as well as when I bought it too. Light and Motion makes good stuff.

Since I was going to the night game at Nationals Park, I rode The Mule which has conventional pedals. This way I didn’t have to wear shoes with cleats. It was my first commute on The Mule in at least three months. It felt totally weird soon I was dialed in.

The ride in was uneventful. Your usual beautiful spin along the Potomac River. Over the river on the 14th Street Bridge, through the tourists at the Washington Monument, up the 15th Street cycletrack, and across the Pennsylvania Avenue plaza in front of the White House.

The tables outside Swings were packed with #bikeDc folks, including to my delight Elizabeth who rode the 50 States Ride with me this year. It’s always great to see new people at Friday Coffee Club.

Ellizabeth at the near head of the table presides over Friday Coffee Club

Ed, Mary, and I had made a date to attend the night game at Nationals Park. I paid Ed for my ticket and rode off to work resplendent in my Anthony Rendon Number 6 Nats shirt.

At 5 I was out of work like a rocket. This would likely be my last game of the year. I rode along the river to the 14th Street bridge, through East Potomac Park, over the Case Bridge to L’Enfant Promenade, then wound my way to I street and its smooth pavement and clearly marked bike lanes. Signs directed me straight to the bike valet at the ballpark. What a great idea.

Bike Valet - No Car, No Worries — Bike Valet – No Car, No Worries

I ate what passed for dinner and took my seat. Ed and Mary arrived a bit late. They were delayed because they needed to get their gear ready to drive to the Seagull Century on the Eastern Shore of Maryland before dawn on Saturday.

The game was a romp for the visiting team but we had a good time hanging out and talking baseball and bikes. At about 11, game over (Marlins 15, Nats 7) I hopped on The Mule for the ride home. The air was dry and calm with temperatures in the mid 60s. Once I cleared the area near the ballpark, the roads were all but empty. I calmly rode the 18 or 19 miles home. Best bike commute ever!

I walked in the house at 12:38, 18 hours after I left.

Now We’re Getting Somewhere – Taking a Mulligan

I needed a grease injector to service my pedals. It’s a bit of a mess trying to do it with a baby medicine injector. Not enough oomph in the lilttle plastic plunger.

My local bike store doesn’t sell them but Performance does. I could have ordered it online but that would have taken away a prefectly good excuse to ride over to their Springfield store. A couple of weeks ago, friend of the blog, bike commuter, and Friday Coffee Club devotee Reba told me that Mulligan Road was now open.

Mulligan Road is the new road that connects US 1 with Telegraph Road near Fort Belvoir. Woodlawn Road used to serve this purpose but the military closed it for security reasons after the 9/11 attacks. Traffic has been a mess ever since. In true Washington area style it only took 13 years to fix the problem.

The road seems to have been recently renamed, Jeff Todd Way. Jeff Todd was a local businessman who was very active in the community. He died in a car crash in 2011.

Whatever the name, it was time to check out the road on two wheels. Big Nellie got the call. I stepped out of the house and was smacked by searing heat. Labor Day may be the first day of meteorological autumn but somebody forgot to tell the weather gods.

To get to the new road, you ride the Mount Vernon Trail to the end at Mount Vernon. Then you keep going down the Mount Vernon Memorial Highway all the way to US 1. At US 1 you’ll see a mess of road construction which will soon be cleared up. Cross US 1 and you are are on the old Mulligan Road. It has been moved a bit to the south and widened. (The old entrance to Woodlawn Plantation has been removed. Access is now available from US to the south. Good luck with that if you are on a bike.)

In a half mile you come to Pole Road. This used to be the end of the line for Mulligan Road, but not anymore. A new road winds up (and I do mean up) through Fort Belvoir. It’s a four lane highway with a 40 mile per hour speed limit. The road isn’t quite done yet. For one thing it needs another layer of asphalt to make the road bed even with the concrete edge of the road. The right lane seems extra wide which I hope means there will be a bike lane.

Up, up, up. Put me in the zoo.

After cresting the hill, you get a nice reward descending through broad curves until you start to ride up again to Telegraph Road. Telegraph is a bit of a mess heading south. The hill you just came down now goes back up, and then some. There’s no bike lane (yet) so it’s just you and the constant flow of impatient drivers yearning to get to I-95 and go absolutely nowhere.

Just before the crest of the hill there is a sign saying “End of Bike Lane” which suggests that maybe there is supposed to be one. Not 30 yards later a new bike lane begins. Signage is not VDOT’s strong suit. This bike lane continues all the way to US 1 south of Fort Belvoir. I turned right at Beulah Road expecting to do battle with heavy car traffic but to my surprise I was given a bike lane of my very own. Yay! It continued all the way through Kingstowne to the Franconia Springfield Parkway. (It wasn’t actually my own. It was used by a man driving a car while messing with his smartphone. He kept weaving all over the road. I caught up to him at a red light and yelled at him to put the damned thing away before he killed somebody.)

I could have taken a side path all the way to Performance but the wide paved shoulder on the Parkway was too nice to pass up.

Mission accomplished thanks to the folks behind the Fairfax County Comprehensive Bicycle Plan.

The ride back was more better because the other side of Telegraph was in much better shape including an on-road bike lane. I turned right onto Mulligan/Todd and saw a wide side trail. I do hope this is not going to replace on on-road bike lane because the right lane is extra wide and can easily accomodate a bike lane.

Ever notice how the ride back seems so much faster once you know where the roads go? I flew down the long hill on Mulligan and zoomed right across Pole Road without so much as recognizing it.

Mulligan/Jeff Todd will be finished soon. I have sent a note to Adventure Cycling so that they may consider adding it to their Atlantic Coast route.

I took a whole bunch of pix so you can see for yourself over on my Flickr page.

Wicked Nice

During my gap year between college and grad school, I lived in Boston and bought a bike. It was a blue Raleigh Grand Prix. It had ten speeds and side pull breaks. After work I would ride it along the Charles River and on weekends I’d go for bike rides with friends out to the suburban kettle ponds called Walden and Farm. Riding a bike in New England in the summertime is bliss. The weather is so agreeable that I didn’t carry a water bottle on these jaunts. (I learned the benefits of hydration a few years later during my first summer in the DC blast-furnace.)

Today was like one of those New England summer days. Just wicked nice. So, naturally I drove to work. Well, not exactly. I drove to a mechanic in North Arlington and rode Little Nellie the two miles to the office. Down hill. On fresh pavement. Ahhh.

The car need to stay in the hospital overnight. I didn’t mind. I got to ride 15 miles home in this bliss. The Mount Vernon Trail was crowded but somehow the usual population of fair weather asshats stayed away.

Tomorrow I do it in reverse. Even after over 100 bike commutes, I am looking forward to commuting to work. I seriously doubt many car commuters could say the same thing.