Category: #bikedc

Errandonnee + Amis = Amisdonnee!

The weatherman was calling for temperatures in the high 50s. There was just one thing to do. Go for a long ride. Justin, John and Ryan were going to ride a 60-mile loop from DC to Alexandria to Prince Georges County to DC. I was going to join them but between my bad back, my late return from picking up my daughter at BWI and a profound sense of sloth, I opted out.

Instead I headed out to run some errands as part of the 2014 Errandonnee Challenge. After doing some yoga and mastering the day’s crossword puzzles, I hopped on The Mule and headed to Old Town for some exciting banking action. Not knowing if the Mount Vernon Trail was ice free I took side streets all the way to Alexandria. The hills that I encountered did not much bother my back which is still beset with random nerve pains.

Once the banking was done I headed to Haute Dogs and Fries, a rather ambitious little hot dog place at the north end of Old Town. I had a Fenway Dog and an Haute Dog with some fries. It was most scrumptious. On the way out I checked my Twitter feed and saw that my friend Rachel (Don’t Call Me, Bob) Cannon was feeling lonely at her job at a nonprofit used bookstore in DC. Since I like Rachel and books and had nowhere else to be, I decided to be there. I happened to glance at the menu board on the way out and saw that they sold Whoopie Pies. I figured Rachel could use a little Whoopie in her day and procured one.I chose the red velvet pie over the Guinness pie because a Guinness Whoopie Pie would make me hurl. (I am a thoughtful gift giver.)

Once the Whoopie Pie was safely stowed in my handlebar bag, I was off and riding. The Mount Vernon Trail is notorious for being congested on nice days and today was no exception. Once onto the 14th Street Bridge I had a brief reprieve before riding into thick swarms of tourists. Maybe that should be swarms of thick tourists, but either way there were a lot of them.

I made it to 17th and K Street in DC and could not find the bookstore. After a few tweets to Rachel and some Google mapping I found it. I tied up The Mule next to Rachel’s new green Surly Disc Trucker, a touring bike to die for. I had bike envy. Rachel bought the Surly after being run over by a car in Prince Georges County last December. It’s nice to see that some good came out of what was probably a horrible experience.

As readers of this blog know, I think Rachel is pretty darn cool. She’s a grad student, snail wrangler, DC bike tour leader, bike rack installer, book store clerk, kitty saver, and erstwhile sitcom star all in one. We talked a blue streak for about an hour. We solved global warming, the Ukranian and Venezuelan Crises, and acute Nutella addiction syndrome.

Errandonee #4: Rachel says, "I <3 Whoopie Pies"

Before I left I bought a book on her recommendation. I did a little browsing and saw that this store is one that I have to come back to with an empty pannier or two. In addition to books they sell CDs and DVDs. Even with the low prices, I could spend some serious money at this place. The store is called Carpe Librum. It is owned by a nonprofit called Turning the Page. Proceeds from sales go to benefit DC public school students and families. They accept donations of old books, CDs, and DVDs so I may actually take them some of mine in the future.

As I was leaving the bookstore, I checked my Twitter feed and saw that Ted was riding at Hains Point along the Potomac River about a mile away. Hains Point is on the way to the 14th Street Bridge so I headed over to see if I could find Ted. Sure enough, I wasn’t there more than ten seconds when I saw him on the road ahead. We did two 3-mile loops down to the point together. The weather was pretty darn splendid.

After leaving Ted, I crossed the river and headed for home on the Mount Vernon Trail. It was even more congested than earlier but I had a nice tailwind and the views were hard to beat so I stayed on the trail. Once clear of Old Town the traffic on the trail thinned out. I saw a photographer at the Morningside bald eagle nest so I stopped to check things out. I didn’t see the nest but a man and a woman came running toward me. As they approached I realized the woman was Kate, a friend from my former job. She and I worked an Earth Day event one year. I have tried to get her into cycling but she prefers to huff and puff up hills on her own two feet. To each his own. We had a brief chat and went our separate ways.

My odometer registered 40 miles as I pulled into the driveway. 60 degrees, 40 miles, 3 friends and 3 errands. My work here is done.

Errandonnee Summary

Errandonnee #2

Category: Store other than a grocery store

Miles: 6

Observation: You do mobile banking your way, I’ll do it mine.

Errandonnee #3

Category: Lunch

Miles: 1

Observation: If you call hot dogs, Haute Dogs shouldn’t you Frenchiy the “dogs” to so you get Haute Chiens? Mais oui.

Errandonee # 4

Category: Library (cause a used books store is pretty close to being a library)

Miles: 9

Observation: If I lived close to Carpe Librum, it would make sense to just move in. What a find! Thanks, Rachel.

Some Flickr pix here.

Marmot to the Rescue

Four hours of sleep and a stuffy head do not a happy bike commuter make. The ride to work was drudgery made worse by the headwind, cold-ish temps (30s), and incessant need to blow my nose and cough up all kinds of gunk. We’re having fun now.

On the plus side, the Mount Vernon Trail  was all but empty so The Mule and I could enjoy my misery in solitude.

The weather reports called for snow this evening. At 4 pm I checked the radar. It was raining along my entire commute route. Just to the west, like the jagged index finger of a wicked witch, there ran a long, thin red band (ice), followed by a sea of blue (snow). I finished up a few odds and ends and started packing.

I was on the road by 430. There was some slushy stuff mixed in with the rain. Not too bad. As long as that red streak stayed to the west I was in good shape.

It rained and rained. Yet I was completely comfy. I wore my Marmot Precip rain suit. This is outerwear originally designed for the military and it really works as advertised. You won’t win any cycling fashion shows wearing it and it makes you about as aerodynamic as a flabby moose (floose?) but you’ll stay warm and dry. And so I was.

I plodded along ignoring my speedometer. I usually commute at 11-13 miles per hour but I was definitely off the low end of that range. Along the way I saw some cyclists and runners without rain gear. They looked unhappy. I was all smiles. I was so happy I didn’t even think about being sick and groggy.

Considering the craptastic weather and my cold, I’d say the first bike commute of the year was a rousing success.

There is an inch of snow outside as I write this at 10 pm. To celebrate my first bike commute, I will eat some quiche and work from home tomorrow. Regrets to Mary and Rhoda but the only Friday Coffee Club I’m doing this week will be in my kitchen.

Kona, anyone?

Hoppy Hoping

It was a splendid early October morning for today’s bike commute on The Mule.  Too bad it’s August. Oh well. I broke out a long sleeve t-shirt (that my daughter bought me in Alaska ironically) and hit the road. I was in the zone the whole way to work. I said hello to the Hoppy Runner and Nancy “Lumberjack Jersey” Duley along the way but I don’t recall anything else. You know the David Byrne feeling you get when you drive somewhere for the umpteenth time, you arrive at your destination, and think to yourself “How did I get here?”

During the day, John Roche,  BikeDC’s Godfather of Craft Beer, announced the details of this year’s Hoppy 100 ride. Last year’s ride was pretty epic, 100 miles, three beer establishments, a ferry ride across the Potomac, a torrential downpour, and a ride home in the dark. What more could you ask for. (And one of the beers was even called Derecho!)

This year’s ride will be a little more urban in focus and only 73 miles. In order not to tie a car up for the day, I’ll have to ride to the start in DC. This should push my mileage for the day up to 100 miles.

There seem to be quite a few folks interested in this year’s escapade, including my personal riding buddy and returning Hopster Lisa. Also, joining us should be Alex Baca who I’ve done two rides with.

My choice of steed is up in the air. I hope to pick up Big Nellie from Bikes at Vienna on Saturday. We’d been waiting for a fork from Big Nellie’s home base in California, but they sent it to the wrong bike shop. Tim of BatV  is hopeful that I’ll be back in the foam seat (just doesn’t have the same ring as “back in the saddle” does it?) again on Saturday. All that said, if it rains on Sunday, I’ll probably ride The Mule cause The Mule’s a good mudder.

Well, the ride home was so nice that words fail me. I had lots of company. There were so many bikes streaming across the 14th Street bridge I did a double take. Of course, most of them blew by me within the next mile. People coming toward me were talking and smiling. If I had regular pants on, I would have sworn that my fly was down.

The last few miles were a bit of a slog. I rode up the Park Terrace hill without my usual verve, which is saying something because I normally climb like a crippled gnu.

Time to shut it down again for the night. Gotta get up early for Friday Coffee Club.

How I Found Jesus and Lost a Crown

You could not ask for a nice day to ride a bike. Warm, breezy, sunny and dry is an awesome combination. It’s a little bit of Vermont in DC. It was the perfect day to try out my new prescription sunglasses. I pulled Little Nellie, my Bike Friday New World Tourist, out of mothballs and headed out for parts to be determined.

We headed up the Mount Vernon Trail. Traffic on the trail on nice summer weekend days is usually pretty heavy but it was tolerable today. I decided not to press my luck and left the trail to cross the Potomac River on the Woodrow Wilson Bridge trail. The bridge trail was very crowded but everybody was polite and considerate so I made good time. On the connecting trail in Maryland I passed an interesting tandem bike, a Hase, I think. The stoker sits in front on a recumbent seat. The captain steers from behind the stoker on a conventional bike saddle with conventional handlebars. The riders seemed to be having a blast.

I pedaled up the half mile hill to Oxon Hill Road which is being completely rebuilt to the south. Not wanting to ride through the construction site, I turned north. The intersection at Oxon Hill Farm has been redesigned to deny a left hand turn. I couldn’t figure out how to get to the farm any other way so I turned left anyway. Take that MDOT.

I rode back down the long hill in Oxon Hill Park to Oxon Hill Cove. The trail through this parkland, owned by the National Park Service, is a mess and really needs to be torn up and repaved. (I will refrain from bitching about Congress and how it seems hell bent on turning our public infrastructure into East Germany 1978.)

One mile and a big climb later I was on the streets of Anacostia. As usual, Sunday in Anacostia means church and church goers dressed in Sunday best. I took Martin Luther King Junior Boulevard (is that the longest street name in DC?) down and up and down through the neighborhood. Instead of taking the 11th Street bridge over the Anacostia River to Capitol Hill, I turned instead into Anacostia River Park. I headed north, up river, exploring side roads here and there.  A nifty new bridge takes the park trail north toward Benning Road. Coming toward me on the bridge was a chatty pack of women on bikes. Nellie from the Washington Area Bicyclists Association was at the head of the group. I recognized one of the riders as a regular Mount Vernon Trail bike commuter. She has a blinky light that swivels on the top of her helmet and a very serious bike commuting demeanor.

Since none of the women said “What a man!” as I passed on continued onward. I spent a few minutes trying to find the entrance to the Kenilworth Aquatic Gardens but only succeeded in finding the solid waste disposal facility for DC. Fail.

I crossed the Benning Road bridge and took the Anacostia Trail downriver on the west side of the river. Next I meandered through Capitol Hill where I took a break at Eastern Market. After some food and drink, I headed to the Capitol (because it’s there) and then up the Metropolitan Branch Trail. A left put me on the contraflow bike lane on R Street. (Contras make good bike lanes.)

My wanderings took me through a street fair of sorts complete with a farmers market and bike repair, because you need some peaches with your new brake pads.  Up U Street where all the people who can’t get to the beach were eating brunch. I turned up 15th Street and headed into Meridian Hill Park. The park is usually filled with people doing acroyoga, slack lining, and hula hooping, and a very entertaining drum circle. Sadly the only activity was a bunch of people having picnics and an ultimate Frisbee game.

Up 15th Street to 16th I rode. Traffic got a bit heavy so I started to zig zag to the east and the north. I managed somehow to ride past the Tacoma Park  home of Mike, the world’s most loquacious randonneur. (He and his wife Lisa hosted a rest stop on the 50 States Ride last year.)

I pushed onward into the confusion of downtown Silver Spring. If there’s a silver spring anywhere about it’s probably paved over or built on. I spotted a sign for a bike trail that eventually led me to the Georgetown Branch Trail which meant it was time to head for home. After spending a few minutes enjoying the view and chatting with people on the Rock Creek Trestle, I headed toward Bethesda Row for a bit of iced tea. After refilling my water bottles, I hopped on the crowded Capital Crescent Trail and headed for Georgetown and the Potomac River waterfront. The trail is downhill the entire way and the downhill combined with the tailwind to make this a perfect ride.

The river north of Key Bridge was choked with kayaks and canoes and powerboats and other floating things. DC sure likes its water. All this activity made the going kind of slow on K Street which runs by the packed Georgetown Waterfront Park. I pedaled along and was soon at the beach volleyball courts near the Lincoln Memorial. A couple of Park Police officers cruised at 5 miles per hour on the trail making sure that none of the scantily clad volleyballers were drinking or evil doing. As he drove the driver of the cruiser sucked at a Slurpee. (Um, can we move along guys? Please.)

With the help of my tailwind, I rode down Ohio Drive past several softball games (I saw two batters hit frozen ropes in the process.) As I rode across the Potomac on the 14th Street bridge my tailwind became a cross wind strong enough to lean in to.

The Mount Vernon Trail was as crowded as I suspected but the trail users were generally well behaved (an abnormality on a nice summer day, to be sure). As I cleared Gravelly Point Park I went to take a drink from my water bottle. As I pulled on the valve with my teeth something clicked in my mouth.  It was a porcelain veneer crown on one of my front teeth. Bummer. Luckily I didn’t swallow it. Hopefully my dentist can glue it back on. (It was put in about 20 years ago so I’ve got nothing to complain about.)

In Old Town I decided not to deal with Union Street which is usually teeming with touroids on days like today. I rode down Royal Street where, in front of Saint Mary’s Catholic church, a couple was setting up a series of long tables with carvings of various Christian people and scenes. I found Jesus on South Royal Street.

DSCN2407

Not wanting to take a couple of mulchy detours on the MVT, I took the Park Terrace Drive hill instead. I rode up the hill in the saddle at 8 miles per hour, twice as fast as on my recumbent.

I pulled into my driveway with 62.9 miles on my odometer, a metric century (100 kilometers).

 

Fried Surly Tomatoes

Our heat wave continues. Of course, that’s no reason not to ride my bike to work. And so I did. It’s Friday which means I got up early for Friday Coffee Club at Swings House of Fritters near the White House.

I left at 6:25, way too early, especially considering my attendance at Bike Arlington’s Happy Hour yesterday evening. There’s not a whole lot going on at 6:30 in the morning, so it was just me, Big Nellie, and gallons of sweat. Pedal, pedal.

I saw the Trash Walker near the airport, but he was my only regular du jour. I looked for Nancy Duley under the 14th Street bridge, but she was back in her sumptuous estate in tony Hollin Hall running her AC at 11.

Despite the weather and the fact that we sat outside, Friday Coffee Club was hopping. Ed and Mary had returned from bike touring the high mountains of Colorado. They were still in vacation withdrawal looking just a tad thinner than usual and sporting the kind of smiles only an awesome vacation can paint on your face. Good to have them back.

I carried some extra cargo to Swings today. We have a tomato plant that is producing an insane amount of fruit. Katie beat Lisa to claiming my surplus inventory so I presented her with a bag of ‘toes. This is only fair since Katie stood in the cold of early March to staff a rest stop in Potomac during the Vasa ride. Thanks, Katie.

IMG_0329
Katie and Her Stash O’Toes

Kirsten showed up on her new Surly Long Haul Trucker. Talk about a happy camper. She LOVES her new bike. It fits her like a glove. I must say that I have serious new bike envy.  I’d go out an buy one myself, but that might start a chain reaction that would cause my bank account and my shed to explode. You see, I have bent lust too. And trike lust. It’s a disease, I tell you.

Image
Lisa, Surly, and Kirsten

At happy hour last night, Shawn was talking about bringing shears to trim back the overgrown vegetation on the TR bridge. He and another cyclist (who’s name shouldn’t escape me but does) were out on the bridge in the heat and humidity working away.  Nice going, guys.

For the ride home, I had a surprisingly strong headwind. Normally, this is refreshing, but tonight it was just more hot sticky air over my skin. I am taking the weekend off from cycling. When I get back to it on Monday, the heat wave should be over. Ahhh!!!

Paul to the Rescue Again

I took a day off yesterday after a  hilly 57-mile ride on Thursday and a 109-mile ride on Friday, both in hot and humid conditions. What I should have done was gone for a short, easy ride, but I mowed the lawn in oppressively swampy weather and took a chill pill for the rest of the day. As a result of this semi-off day, my legs felt tight and sore. Walking down stairs was a little difficult, not unlike the day after running a marathon. (Been there, done that, had to walk downstairs backwards back in the day.)

My plan for today was to go for a nice easy spin on Big Nellie and see where the bent gods took me. As I made my way into Old Town Alexandria, my legs loosened up considerably. I decided to hit a few bike shops to see if they could fix a problem with one of my pedals. On my recumbent I wear sandals and use PowerGrips. These are straps that go across the pedal diagonally. Normally I use toe clips (I am not a fan of clipless pedals) but nerve problems in my left foot led me to try PowerGrips in search of relief. They work reasonably well except that the strap on my right pedal is at a steep angle, and rubs against my toes. The one on my left pedal fits properly, only touching the outside of my pinkie toe. The reason for the discrepancy is that the pedals attached to a metal plate. The left plate looks like an old bottle opener, flat with a bend at the end. The right plate as a second bend in the middle causing it to extend out too far from the pedal.

I stopped at Wheel Nuts in north Old Town but they were closed. Seven miles down. I decided to try the Velocity bicycle co-op in Del Ray a few miles away. They had all kinds of junk parts (just what I thought I needed) but no plates for PowerGrips.

Twenty years ago, The Mule, my Specialized Sequoia, had a recurring problem: it’s headset (the part that the handlebars attach to) kept coming loose. NOBODY could fix it. After giving many mechanics a crack at the problem, I took the bike to Papillion Bicycles on Columbia Pike in Arlington. Bailey, the owner, couldn’t figure it out but he said try Paul at City Bikes. I called Paul and before I could finish my description of the problem he knew what was wrong. And he did. It needed a ten-cent washer that he happened to have among his two bazillion bike parts.

Paul is now the head mechanic at Bicycle Space in DC, so I decided to let him have a go at the pedal problem. Several miles later, Dr. Paul examined the patieDSCN2387nt. “You don’t need a new part. It looks like you bent this one in an accident.” Paul is also psychic. I did indeed crash the bike a year ago and came down on the right side!

He took the right pedal off, walked into a back room with a hammer in his hand and  began the operation. I was a little troubled by the hammer and the fact that he did not sterilize his hands before surgery. After a minute, he came back out, hammer in hand, took a look at the left pedal, and went back to the OR. A few whacks later  he came out and the pedal was exactly right. Dang,

 

With a smile on my face, I headed for home. Not wanting to go back the way I came, I decided to ride back via Anacostia. I picked rode east to 11th Street Northeast and took a right. I rode over the Anacostia River on the wicked awesome new 11th Street Bridge (such a clever name, no?). In Anacostia, 11th Street becomes Martin Luther King Junior Boulevard. The MLK (very L.A. sounding, don’t you think) is an interesting ride. There are signs of gentrification with new restaurants, cafes, condos and such. And there are the depressing signs of DC’s poorest neighborhoods with housing projects, job training places, and people handing out on the street corners. Along the way, I glanced at an electric sign outside a church. 104 degrees!!!

After the first hill, the MLK descends to cross busy South Capitol Street. Here the road surface becomes a washboard. At 25 miles per hour, it’s downright hairy. (DC needs to up its game with some serious roadwork on the MLK.) Once you get up a good head of steam, you are greeted by a red light at the bottom of the next hill. Argh!

From a dead stop, I climbed the next hill, slowly. At Blue Plains Drive I banged a right and headed down a steep hill, breaking the speed limit in front of the DC Police Academy in the process. I am a brazen scofflaw.

After a couple of left turns, I was on the Oxon Cove Trail. Park maintenance has gone by the wayside this year. Tufts of grass four or five inches tall protrude from all the cracks in the pavement. Grass on either side of the trail is two feet tall.

The trail and the park were completely empty. As I rode next to the cove, I spotted the remnants of an large bird of prey, either an eagle or a hawk. There were some big feathers and some bones but not much else; it had been picked clean.

The trail enters the grounds of Oxon Hill Farm DSCN2389where it turns away from the water and climbs, gradually at first, but steeper and steeper all the way to the top. I think this is the toughest hill in the area. On the way up I saw what looked like the hoof and lower leg from a young deer. Yikes!  A little further on, I spotted a beautiful feather, from a hawk or eagle. I stopped and put it in the flag slot on my Arkel seat back bag.

 

The steepest part of the hill remained so I yelled “Get ’em up, Scout” and started to ride. (I didn’t actually say that, but I am pissed that Johnny Depp has screwed with Tonto. Tarzan is Johnny Weissmuller. Avery Brooks is Hawk. Jay Silverheels is Tonto. That’s it. Don’t mess with my childhood icons. Okay, the new Star Trek actors are infinitely better than the old ones, but that’s an anomaly.)

After the monster climb, I got to ride down the crazy fun downhill toward National Harbor, then up the corkscrew hill to the bike path bridge over the beltway. (This corkscrew design is brilliant.)

Next I rode over the Woodrow Wilson Bridge (a good place to watch the fireworks in Old Town next Saturday night, by the way) and onto the Mount Vernon Trail. Then, for reasons that escape me, I rode up another nasty hill on Westgrove Boulevard. After a stop for a Gary’s Lunchbox sammich at Sherwood Hall Gourmet, I rode home.

What started as an easy spin evolved into a 37-mile hill fest. So much for my plan. At least, I got my pedal fixed. Thanks to Paul and Bicycle Space. It was worth the effort.

 

June: No Century. No Problem.

I finished off June today with a 22 mile ride on Big Nellie, my Tour Easy recumbent. The repaired chain seems to be working fine. I did notice when installing new brake pads yesterday that my front fork has some surface rust on it. I think I’ll replace it when I swap out the chain and drive train.

It was a pretty busy month. My daughter graduated from high school. All eyes are now on late August when she starts a new chapter in our lives when she heads west to Butler University in Indianapolis. I missed several days of riding dealing with graduation and other family events. I still managed to ride 672 miles. 508 ½ of those miles were aboard Big Nellie. The big hoss has become my go-to bike this summer. The Mule, my old Specialized Sequoia touring bike, came in with 125 miles, all while riding to work. Little Nellie, my Bike Friday New World Tourist, got light use with only 38.5 miles.

I rode to work 16 times, 11 on Big Nellie, 4 on The Mule and once on Little Nellie. My longest ride of the month was 64 miles on Big Nellie in Prince Georges County, Maryland.

For the year, I have 3,526 miles with 82 bike commutes.

I haven’t signed up for any fall rides this year. I will probably do the Southern Maryland Century and the 50 States Ride again. Once the kids go to college, I may jump in the car and go for some long rides in the boonies. That’s what they’re there for.

Once You Get Wet….

Woke up. Fell out of Bed.

You know the drill. It was Friday morning. Once I get out that door, I’m good.  Drink some OJ. Eat a banana. Boogie.

I left early to maximize my Friday Coffee Club time. Big Nellie was on autopilot. I don’t think I passed any regulars. Frankly, I could have passed the Preservation Hall Jazz Band and I wouldn’t have noticed.

Into the city and around the Jefferson Memorial. I passed two runners and out of the corner of my eye I recognized one. Of course, her name is Kate (the first of three today). She was talking intensely (when your running in swamp air it’s hard to look anything but intense) so she didn’t see me on my rolling lawn chair. Gypsybug says to ride like your invisible. I apparently am.

In the 15th Street cycle track, Kel came flying by, riding downhill to my uphill. She had to leave Friday Coffee Club early.  She had to be to work by 8. Poor Kel

At Swing’s, Reba and the aforementioned Gyspybug were keeping a dozen guys entertained. They looked grumpy. (The guys, not Reba and Gypsybug. They always look smashing.) Okay, only Aaron looked grumpy, but this is his natural state. Next Jon showed up with his two little girls in a bike trailer. They are beyond CUTE! And very well behaved.

Two big girls, Katie and Kate (the second and third Kates of the day) showed up. Katie just finished a minibike tour. And Kate is soon to leave us for grad school. (Sad face.)

Katie and Kate
Katie and Kate

Then the star of the day showed up. Nicole was riding her bike from Minnesota to Massachusetts. One of the Coffee Clubbers ran into her near the C&O Canal and invited her to join us. She got a round of applause and fit right in to the group. I am beginning to think that Swing’s spikes their drinks with nice juice.

Nicole
Nicole

Around 9 we all went our separate ways. Hi ho! Hi ho!

Eight-ish hours later the skies opened up. Every bike commuter in DC had the radar on his computer at work. I missed my first chance at a dry escape around 4:30. A half hour later, a cap in the storm appeared. Hiyo, Nellie. Away!

I got about a mile before it started raining lightly. I rode very gently because Big Nellie’s front wheel has a bad habit of sliding out on wet pavement. This is not a lot of fun for yours truly and I have plenty of scars to prove it.

I looked over at the city and could see distinct areas of heavy downpours. The downpours didn’t look like much fun. Near the 14th Street Bridge underpass an old regular came by. She’s literally old, gray hair, maybe in her 60s. Her mouth is usually open. She’s been riding to and from my neighborhood for at least ten years; I seem to recall seeing her in Mount Vernon Hospital. Ironically, despite her experience, she wears her helmet back on her head. For all the miles she’s put in, she can wear her helmet however she pleases.

I could see a line of clouds rolling in as I biked past the airport. Every so often I would get a little rain from the front edge of the storm. Pedal, pedal.

A commuter rode by. He asked me a couple of weeks ago if I liked my waterproof Ortlieb panniers. I highly recommended them. He took my advice and bought a pair.

Another commuter passed me and said, “Nice shirt.” I was wearing a Backroads Century t-shirt. He was wear a Backroads cycling jersey. Monday is Bike DC t-shirt day. Please make a note of it.

I started thinking about places to seek cover in case of lightning or high winds. There are buildings with overhangs in Old Town Alexandria. The Wilkes Street tunnel. The underside of the Woodrow Wilson Bridge. No need. Of course, as soon as all the good cover spots were behind me the clouds opened up. For the next  3 miles it poured. After a mile, it hardly mattered. I was making squishy noises with each pedal stroke. Big Nellie’s seat stayed dry because I had covered it with a white kitchen trash bag. (No, I was never a boy scout.)

At Northdown Road, the rain stopped. A cyclists stopped in the middle of the road to clear some fallen limbs. We rode together on the east side of the GW Parkway. The road had a fresh later of asphalt. Sooo nice.

The last 1 1/2 miles of my commute puts me on Collingwood Road. Dark clouds were ahead. I reached back and turned on my red blinky light. As I approached a red light at Fort Hunt Road, lightning flashed a couple of miles to my right. I rarely run red lights but GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!! Pedal, pedal.

I made it home and got in the house just as the clouds opened up. It didn’t much matter. I was already wet.

Pix from Friday Coffee Club are over here.

Riding with Mr. Moonlight

Since it is the longest day of the year, it makes sense to go all in on activities. The day started with splendid weather. It was actually sweater weather when I woke up. (This is especially odd since it was 100 degrees on the same day last year.) The day quickly warmed up to the comfortable 80s. Ahhh.

I left home early despite staying up late to watch the NBA finals. On six hours of sleep, I rode Big Nellie into town. The Mount Vernon Trail is just indescribably nice on summer mornings like this. I left about a half hour early so most of my regulars were still messing with visions of sugarplums. The Trash Walker, however, was doing his thing, keeping me on my toes. Under the 14th Street Bridge, Nancy Duley stood next to her bike. This is as far as she goes, like there is a force field just beyond. It would be interesting to see her bounce off the force field while riding. BOING.

She was turning around after escorting Mr. Nancy Duley most of the way to his office in DC. Next time, I am taking her through the force field and into the city. I have to figure out how to get through the barrier because I can’t use my bicycle death ray. It turns out death rays are illegal. Who knew? We’ll breach the barrier somehow.

Friday Coffee Club was once again a men’s only affair for the first hour or so. Kirstin (@ultrarunnergirl) showed up to liven things up a bit. Then, as always, we went our separate ways to earn a buck. Crossing the TR Bridge, the river looked beautiful, the breeze felt splendid, and the skies were blue. I went to work anyway.

After work my son and I took Metro to Nationals Park to watch a ballgame. It was on of my Fathers Day gifts. Our seats were on the lower level behind the third base dugout. As Wayne Campbell would say, “Excellent.” I resisted the urge to yell, “Let’s go! EXPOS!!!” through out the game. (This whole Nationals thing is a charade. They should wear those goofy looking Expos hats a few times a game. Maybe even have the announcers repeat everything en francais.)

The game was a pitching duel with Steven Strasburg striking out 9 in 7 innings. The highlight of the game came when my son and I, singing like a couple of eunuchs, hit the high note of “Take On Me” during the seventh inning stretch. We were tempted to start singing “Staying Alive” in faux Bee Gee falsettos, but thought better of it. (Another beer, though, and I would have gone for it.)

Well, the Expos won and we made our way back to Rosslyn to retrieve the car and Big Nellie. We were prepared to put the bike on the back of the car and call it a night, but the weather was perfect and I was not the least bit tired. So my son drove home and I hit the Mount Vernon Trail.

It was the summer solstice. I expected to find all kinds of Shakespearean characters along the way but only saw 6 cyclists. Three were riding without lights. When I had a solitary stretch of the trail, I turned my headlight off. The moon was intense!  Big and nearly full. Combined with the clear skies it was casting a glow on the river and the greenery along the trail. It looked almost as if someone had sprayed silver on the grass and leaves and water.

I cruised along at 12 miles per hour taking in the views and making sure to keep my mouth shut so as not to take in the bugs. I arrived home at 12:30 ready to call it a day.

Thank you, Mr. Moonlight.