Soggy and Saggy

The 2nd Annual Cider Ride was a different thing altogether from the 1st ride. For starters, this one was in Montgomery County; last year’s was in PG County. Last year the weather was just plain cold; this year it was 40s with the threat and eventually the reality of rain.

So I got up early and left the house for the start in Gathersburg. I arrived a little after 8. Only a few people were there. Over the course of the next hour, several dozen people showed up including Dave and Jean on their amazing Co-Motion tandem, Peter, Justin, John, and Reba. Looks like we got us a posse.

The forecast was calling for constant rain from 11 am on. I was counting on being nearly half way done by then. It wasn’t to be though. The first 5 miles were stop and go in the suburbs. We must have hit 20 traffic lights. The stops strung out the impressively large group. Who knew there were so many insane cyclists in this area?

Dave and Jean soon zooomed ahead on their tandem. Dang they are fast. Peter, Justin, Reba, John and I rode in close proximity. Justin flatted and then stopped to help a rider who fell on a slippery descent. She was okay but was put in the SAG wagon as a precaution. Reba had to stop to put her chain back on.

As the suburbs thinned out the roads became hilly. The hills didn’t bother me in the least. And I was actually too warm in all the layers I was wearing. We pulled into the first rest stop (just a bathroom in a park) and reconnoitered. Reba was nowhere to be found. While we waited we chatted with Rod Smith and Megan McCarty, two course marshalls.

Several minutes later she showed up unhappy. Her chain wouldn’t stay in a gear, any gear. So after much examination we determined that in the course of her chain falling off it had become twisted. A bystander gave is a master link, a easy-to-put-on replacement link. Rod tried to put it on but it was for a different kind of chain, too narrow. So Reba needed to SAG back to the start. This whole chain business took a good 30 minutes. In that time I went from dry and warm to wet and freezing. After my 3rd night with inadequate sleep, I was not feeling very spunky so I joined her in the ride back in the van piloted by GIna from WABA.

This was only my second SAG ride ever. I am glad I took it though. Riding another 40+ miles in the rain would have sucked.

On the way home I stopped in a park to change our of my wet clothes, called a friend who wasn’t home, and headed to my local bike shop to have my brake cables replaced. Nothing makes a ride more interesting that a rear brake that won’t engage.

As I pulled in, Reba was rolling out with her bike and its new chain. She told me that it was really expensive because while she was at the shop, she bought a new bike. It’s a Trek with fat tires and disc brakes.

So the day turned our okay for Reba. And I learned the limits of my bikiness. At least for this year.

Taking It Easy

Some family matters have me stressing out so I got zero sleep last night. There was no way I was going to jump on a bike in the cold so I decided to work from home. In addition to feeling incredibly groggy I am being driven up a wall by a strange numbness in my right foot. It came on last week. As I rode the Sequoia home, my right ankle seemed to cave to the outside. I am hoping this is a cause not an effect. If so, I have some kind of mild strain.

I am going to the doctor next week. I hate going to the doctor, but it’s a good idea to rule out nasty stuff like diabetes and muscular sclerosis. My guess is that it is related to my recent back woes.

What a drag it is getting old.

Whether the Weather, or Not

I made up my mind after last night’s soaking that I was driving to work this morning. I didn’t bother to pack my panniers because the weatherman said their might be sleet or freezing rain today.

This morning I went out to pick the newspaper up off the end of the driveway and I noticed a distinct lack of rain, or sleet, or freezing rain. And so I said to myself, “Hey, wait a minute.” I went inside and turned on the weather. The radar showed that there was rain in the area but that my neck of the woods was clear. And so I said to myself, “Hmmmm.”

After breakfast I decided to go for it. I packed my panniers and put on my waterproof gear and headed out the door to only the lightest of sprinkles. I decided to ride The Mule because it would give me the best traction on the wet leaves that cover most of my route to work. The Mule, not being a recumbent, allows me to ride in a head-facing down position. This would keep my glasses dry. The only downside would be if my back seized up while riding in the cold. No guts, no glory. Onward.

The faintest of sprinkles turned into sprinkles turned into light rain turned into steady rain which gave me a frowny face. Water sneaked into the corner of my left eye and made it sting. This gave me a squinty, one-eye-open face. Water began to pool in the insides of my allegedly waterproof gloves. Do I know how to party or what?

I made it to work without a calamity, thanks in large part to the fact that the Mount Vernon Trail was all but deserted. There were a few runners out squishing through the puddles but the bike commuters were few and far between. (This may have been the result of me leaving 15 minutes late due to the fact that I wasn’t packed and ready to go at my usual departure time.) To my surprise my back seemed pretty happy with the ride.

The radar said that the rain had left the area for the ride home. Somebody needs to get the radar fixed. There was a light mist that was just enough wetness to be annoying. My glasses eventually got wet which made riding blind into the headlights of the cars on the GW Parkway. Most trail users were displaying lights. Most except for the guy coming toward me with only a small red light on the front of his bike. And then there was the walked dressed in black with a blue backpack on. In the center of the blue backpack was a small circle of white reflective material. Good thing, too, because I almost certainly would have given him a Schwalbe wedgie.

Visibility issues aside the ride home was a pretty nice cruise. I seem to have my legs back and I was buzzing along at about 12 miles per hour without effort. (I’m willing to bet a tailwind was involved, buy why spoil my moment in the drizzle.)

The good news of the day is my back seemed to tolerate the ride just fine. The bad news of the day was that I spotted a couple of holes in my rain pants. If you all have recommendations, send them along.

Cyber Monday Note to Self: Order Desinex

I had it all planned out. The forecast called for rain around 8 pm. The daytime temperatures would rise into the high 60s. It looked like a pretty awesome forecast for the first day of December.

I decided that I’d wear my old wind pants and a water proof jacket. They used to be a matching pair in the waterproofing department but the pants’ waterproofiness gave it up a long time ago.

I have been feelling a little under the weather lately. Despite the fact that I had all but taken four days off the bike, I had no oomph in my legs. This might have been attributable to the fact that my right foot is numb. The mysteries of the 59-year old male anatomy are without number. So to speak.

I rode Big Nellie to avoid re-aggravating my back. At least that part worked. I stopped after 1/4 mile to see why my speedometer was giving me a big 0. I know I had no oomph but did the speedometer have to mock me?

The ride in was pretty nice. The temperatures were in the 50s. On a conventional bike I would have been wearing shorts but on a recumbent I went with the long pants. You don’t want coldish air blowing up into your personal private area for 15 miles. You just don’t.

At the Belle Haven nest I spotted two bald eagles. This is the fourth time in two weeks so I think they have moved in. If true, we should have a baby or two in a few months. Along the way to work I saw Nancy (Two Sheds) Duley (HI!!!!), the Three-Step Runner, the Hoppy Guy, and the Trash Walker. I managed to get all the way to work without hitting anything or having anything hitting me. Success.

When I left the office rain had arrived. Early. Good thing I brought the long pants. At least I’d be warm. I covered the foam seat of my recumbent with a kitchen garbage bag. I was ready to do battle. Within a mile my glasses were so soaked that I could barely see a thing. And the cold rain water was passing through my old rain pants into my mountain bike shorts and, thanks to the garbage bag, the water was staying there. All the way home I felt like a toddler with a wet diaper. Squish. Squish. After a while it started to feel kind of nice in a totally inane sort of way.

One good thing about the rain was that there were no ninjas. I had all I could do to keep on the trail and not kill myself sliding on the wet leaves. South of the airport I heard “Hi, John.” It was Reba. She passed me swiftly uttering something the weatherman and homicide. She was wearing a rain jacket and lycra shorts. She was not about to slow down to chat. She was on a mission from God. Zoom. She had funky lights in her spokes that made her look like an amusement park ride at night. Bye, Reba.

As I rolled through Old Town another interesting thing happened. My brakes were useless. Oh, joy. The tourists must have been hanging with the ninjas. I made it through without hitting anybody.

The twisty part of the Mount Vernon Trail was carpeted in wet leaves. Lovely. Not only was it slippery but I was having a hard time making out the edge of the pavement. Must. Not. Crash.

I didn’t. Yay, me.

After getting inside the house I made a note to myself: next time I wear these pants, I’m bringing Desinex.

November by the Numbers

I should be out riding. It’s nearly 60 degrees out. Instead I am taking it easy which is pretty much a description of my riding this month.

My total mileage for the month was 466, of which 393.5 was accomplished on 14 commutes. My weapon of choice for the month was Big Nellie, my Tour Easy recumbent. I rode it to work 8 times. My long ride of the year was a 32.5 mile commute on The Mule, my old Specialized Sequoia touring bike. There were no event rides and my only ride with other people was actually a solo ride to Del Ray to meet up with some bikey peeps on Veteran’s Day.

I snook in a nice day hike in Great Falls Park.

So far this year I’ve ridden my bike to work 157 times for a total of 4,527.5 miles. If I am not mistaken I have bike commuted the Transamerica Trail. I’m a bit shocked to see that put 3.053.5 miles on Little Nellie, my Bike Friday New World Tourist. In most years Little Nellie serves as my backup bike. It was my bike of choice on event rides because I can pop it in the trunk of the car and use a rack to carry a friend’s bike. It may see its last action of the year at Satruday’s Cider Ride. Then I will take it in to have its cables replaced. They tend to gum up because they are extra long and loop under the bottom bracket.

Speaking of the Cider Ride, are you going? If you’re not, you should. The inaugural ride last year was in Prince Georges County. This year’s event is in western Montgomery County.

Recharging My Batteries

I didn’t ride to work on Wednesday. It was cold and rainy and the threat of snow loomed in the forecast. I’ve bike commuted in similar conditions scores of times but I decided to use the bad weather as an excuse to give my back some rest.

On Thanksgiving, I couldn’t bring myself to put on all my bike gear so I slapped on my hiking shoes and went for a 4 mile walk around the neightborghood. Nancy “Two Sheds” Duley spotted me about a mile from home but decided I looked nefarious and took a pass at calling out “Hey, Rootchopper!” I wonder what happens when people do this and it’s not me. “You must have me mistaken with someone else. I’m Stumpgrinder.”

I was a pretty good boy on Thanksgiving, eschewing dessert and avoiding a food coma.

Friday was a day of sloth. I couldn’t get through the whole day indoors so I walked to the drugstore 1 1/4 away. Nancy “Two Sheds” Duley missed me this time.

Today I used The Mule to ride to a shoe repair shop to rescue my shoe from the cobbler. After that I rode into Old Town to check out the families strolling about. It was just that kind of day. The farmers’ market was buzzing. I returned by way of Jones Point Park where I stopped to check out the underside of the Woodrow Wilson Bridge. It’s a pretty impressive structure.

About a mile from home a fluffy little dog started chasing me. It looked like a cotton ball with feet. It was on the grass running parallel to me, barking wih everything it had, when it turned to attack. There was a small grass covered trench that ran along the side of the road. Fluffy didn’t see it and did a somersault into the rut. Only it’s pride was hurt.

When I got home I showered and changed. I was looking in the fridge for some milk and my back seized. I am writing this with an ice pack jammed in the waist of my pants. This is getting old.

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.