The End of an Errand

The ride to work today was a gift. A tailwind made it a literal and figurative breeze. Little Nellie was my hoss du jour, because of the threat of rain for the evening rush. About two miles from home a raccoon sauntered out in front of me. It was a big one. It could have been a normal sized raccoon with its fur fluffed up against the cold. Or maybe it was a momma full of babies. In any case, it made it to the middle of the street and stopped. It turned its head to check me out, the, as if it were saying “D’oh!” turned around and scampered back the way it had come. Actually, it was more like a waddle than a scamper. Maybe it had too much scampi at the garbage buffet.

I was hoping for more wild life on the way in. There was the usual heap of geese and ducks and a great blue heron all scrunched up out in the river. No raptors or exotics. (I am soooo spoiled.)

I am starting to get the Rosslyn Circle of Certain Doom down to a science. Just assume that, when the light turns red, three cars will run the red to turn onto Key Bridge. Then proceed. You see car drivers never flaunt the laws like bike riders. Never ever.

The ride home was started by a jaw dropping moment. It was light out. Not, almost-sunset light out, but honest to bejebus light out. And it stayed that way all the way to Belle Haven Park. Even beyond there was enough sunlight left over that the headlights of the cars on the Parkway were tolerable.

By the time I arrived at the stone bridge 2 miles from home it was dark. I was running my Stella headlight on “high”. I headed for the 7-11 near home and stopped to do my last errand of the Errandonnee. Since it was my wild card, I thought it would be appropriate to buy a couple of lottery tickets. And so I did. Since it was in the dark, I also knocked off my second ride at night.

Now that the Errandonnee is in the books, El Gran Errando will retire knowing that this challenge was muy bueno.

Make Him Stop: Errand Number 11

Last year during the Utilitaire Challenge, I rode The Mule on a fiercely windy day to get me a roast beef sandwich called a Gary’s Lunchbox at Sherwood Hall Gourmet. The wind won and I ended up ramming into the back of a parked car.

This year, same conditions, same sandwich, different bike. Little Nellie got the call and handled the wind gusts without incident. I procured my sammich and received a reward, a wonderful tailwind that carried me home with no troubles.

The sammich was most excellent. Lesson learned: when life throws you a headwind, turn around, dummy!

Miles: 1

Cumulative miles: good heavens, we must be pushing 75 by now

Category: Lunch

Remaining errands: 1, but must be done in the dark. Oooh…suspense and intrique await. (Probably not.)

The Hapless Hispanisto

Weatherman was using the s word this morning so Little Nellie got that call. It could have been an unwise decision since there was frost on the cars parked in front of my house. Once I got to the Mount Vernon Trail all the bridges were coated in rime. As both faithful readers of this blog know, Little Nellie is not particularly good at riding on slippery stuff. I was uber careful and made it over the scary bits without incident.

The sunrise was pretty intense this morning. I think the temperature popped up a few degrees because I went from chilly at the start of the ride to sweaty by the half way point. Speaking of halfway points, as I approached the power plant, I intersected with none other than Nancy Duley. Normally we pass each other in opposite directions but since I left early to get to Friday Coffee Club I got a bonus. Nancy was riding alone because the evil and heartless Mr. Nancy Duley rode off without her. Nancy and I rode together to the airport. All the way, Nancy was cussing the Mr. up something fierce!! (Okay, just kidding. Don’t want to start a divorce after they spent all that money on new doors for the house.)

Nancy has an awesome bike. The frame is a custom Holland frame from 1993 (the same age as The Mule). It’s got nifty looking fenders and a trekking style handlebar. Nancy must be tempted to just keep on riding every morning. Since she has a job and a mortgage (and new doors!) she turned around at the airport and headed for home. (Or so she said. She could have continued on to Fredericksburg as far as I know.)

Coffee Club was hopping. It’s my first FCC meeting in four weeks. It was especially nice to see the early birds, Mary, Lisa, Crystal and Adam, who normally are gone by the time I arrive. Froggie, a.k.a. the Bad Penny, was in from Norfolk. And John, the dirt engineer, appeared, but left his beard at home. It was an effective disguise.

He reports that he is hard at work on the 2nd Annual Hoppy 100.

It’s always fun to meet new folks at FCC and Ricky and Colin were this week’s noobs. Welcome.

As is so often the case, the highlight of FCC is getting to play a bit with Hugo. Hugo’s around 8 months old and words cannot do justice to his cuteness.

On the ride to Rosslyn, Little Nellie had to stop and take in the strange wooden beasts in front of the Kennedy Center. I do not have an art gene, but I am guessing that some creative type person thought it would be spiffy to put a herd of wooden elk in front of the Kennedy Center. The Kennedy’s were known elk lovers. They had elk races at the Kennedy compound in Hyannisport until an elk got drunk and ran off a bridge and drowned. You could look it up.

If the morning was cool-ish the afternoon and evening were warm-ish. It was 61 degrees at lunchtime. I celebrated by walking several blocks to a sandwich stop. On the way back to the office, a sky blue Porsche blew through a yield sign at a crosswalk that I was about to enter. The driver was on his cell phone. I slapped the rear panel of his car as he went by. He didn’t look or care. Some day Mr. Sky Blue Porsche will be spending oodles of money on a defense attorney after he hits a pedestrian. How much money? Obviously, if you have to ask you can’t afford it.

I relate the Porsche story partly because of what happened in Old Town on the way home.

The trip home was characterized by two things. First, I wore shorts. In February. Lordy, it felt good. Second, a weather front was approaching. There was a clear line of ominous clouds coming, When I started for home, I had a headwind. By the time I reached the airport, the wind was gusting from behind. They should make a rule that requires that the best tailwind of the week happens on Friday evenings,

On my way along North Union Street in Old Town, I spotted a woman runner on the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. She was heading south like me. As we reached a parking garage, an exiting car came inches from hitting her. She and the driver exchanged words. She told the driver that it was okay since the sight lines are terrible. Mighty magnanimous of her after the driver nearly killed her.

As far as errandonnee activity, I diverted 2 1/2 miles from my commute for FCC so I get a Coffee run as errand number 8 (I think). My total errandonneering mileage is well over 60 miles. I hope to do two some more errands this weekend.

Mary, the Mother of all Errandeurs, suggested that I change my errandonneuring moniker from El Errandonisto Grande to El Gran Errando. Since EGE is a better set of initials than EEG, which makes it look like I have serious neurological problems, I am switching to El Gran Errando.

Life would have been much easier if I had taken Spanish instead of French in high school.

“C’est la vie,” say the old folks. It goes to show you never can tell.

Robineering

The weatherman warned that there might be snow this evening. Or their might not. I want his job.

Just to be safe Little Nellie got the call today. I can say for certain after riding her 20 miles today that the tweak to the saddle position is a rousing success. And the repair to my shifter cable likewise.

The ride in was nothing to write home about. And since I am at home as I write this ther wouldn’t be any point to doing so if I did. Cruising along between the Humpback Bridge and the Memorial Bridge I spotted two robins bopping along the side of the Mount Vernon Trail. They didn’t have their bright orange breast feathers yet but they were definintely robins.

There were a bunch of soldiers doing what must be a required fitness task. They put on massive back packs and walk along the trail. I can tell they are being timed because they look down at their watches and because there’s another soldier timing them at what looked like the finish line just north of the 14th Street bridge. One of the soldiers was actually running with his pack on. All I could think of is, “Dude, your body’s going to remember this in about 20 years.”

The ride in was dry with a head wind. The ride home was in a spitting rain. The tailwind made it tolerable. Once the sun went down it was exceptionally hard to see as the light from my helmet lamp and the cars on the parkway were reflecting off of all the water.

Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. Rather than race around trying to get flowers for Mrs. Rootchopper, I diverted to the Safeway and picked some up. (Here’s hoping the Mrs. does read my blog.) It took me five minutes to pick them out and buy them. It took ten minutes of walking around in the rain beforehand trying to find something to lock LIttle Nellie to. I ended up just locking the rear wheel to the frame near some shopping carts. Sadly, this is all too familiar in Mount Vernon. Fairfax County is way behind on accommodating biked as transportation.

For those of you who are into the errandoneering challenge, I scored two rides today. 1 bike commute of 29 miles (errand number 6) and one trip to the grocery store (errand number 7) in the dark (a one-half mile diversion off my bike commute). So that gives me 1 of 2 night time rides.

Happy Ash Valentines Eve.

The Errant Errandonneur

Since I dropped out of the Errandonneur Challenge the day it started I was tempted to reverse course. That’s mostly because nearly all my biking in the in winter fits into the “challenge”. The challenge to me is keeping track of all the details. Take today for instance.

I intended to go to the bike store to get Little Nellie rear shifter cable fixed. I had messed it up a few days ago when I unfolded the bike and snagged the cable on the left crank arm. When I went to pedal, the bike crank arm wouldn’t turn. So I pressed on it with my foot thinking this would free it up. Bad idea. Long story short, after I figured out what was going on I could no longer shift into my highest gears.

On the way to the bike shop I stopped at the pharmacy thinking that if I took pictures of Little Nellie in front of the store I might rehabilitate my two bike trips to the pharmacy and resuscitate my errandonnering credits. Ah, but the rules clearly state that the pix must be taken during the errand. The Gypsybug is a tricky one.

On to the bike shop I rode. Before I started out, I should note, I adjusted my Brooks saddle by tiliting it up ever so slightly (one click’s worth on the saddle adjustment mechanism) because I have been sliding off the front of the saddle. Just this tiny adjustment made for a much better and more efficient ride. I arrived at the Belle Haven Spokes Etc. store and took a couple pictures for good measure. I rarely buy anything at this shop, but I make lots of use of their service department. For little things, they will often make repairs while you wait.

Colin, the bespectacled mechanic, examined Little Nellie. I had messed up a ferule (a little metal thing that connects the cable housing to the cable guide brazed on to the chain stay). He replaced that and then decided to check out the cable. It was fraying at the shifter. He replaced the cable and got the index shifting working perfectly. Nicely done, Colin.

On to Old Town Alexandria I rode to have lunch. I stopped at Eamonn’s, a fish and chips place, named after my son. (Not true, but the owner and I both have sons named Eamonn.) I always have chips with cod and tartar sauce. I don’t undestand why people put malt vinegar on their fish and chips. The stuff tastes disgusting.

I headed home . On the way I stopped to check out a photographer using a camera on a tripod. The camera had a lens slightly smaller than the Hubble telescope. He was taking pictures of a rather large osprey who was no more than 30 yards away in a tree on the rivers edge. I’ll bet he gets some amazing pictures.

Since it was around 50 degrees out, it was warm enough to do some work on my recumbent. Big Nellie has a long chain. In the winter time it’s too cold to do proper chain maintenance so I often re-lube my chain without cleaning off the old dirty lube first. Basically, the chain and the pulleys that it runs through were all gunked up with a wax/dirt mixture. It took me 20 minutes to get the thing clean and I probably could have spent another ten on it. Close enough. Once I put fresh wax on it, it was noticably quieter.

So, here’s the weekend recap: for the last 20.5 miles of riding, I’ve already done 4 of 12 the Errandonnee rides. I’ve done one each in the “Breakfast and Lunch”, “Bike Shop”, and “Personal Care and Health” categories with a fourth ride (to pick up my receipt at the drug store, falling into the “Any Other Store” category. Seeing as how I will knock the “Work” category with my next couple of commutes. I would be halfway done by Tuesday. I am an erranaholic! Or maybe just an errant errandonneur.

I Just Wasn’t Made for Paperwork

The Rootchopper Institute’s favorite randonista, @gypsybug, has started another biking contest. Last winter, she hosted the Utilitaire Challenge, which involved running errands by bike. Then this fall she hosted the Coffeeneuring Challenge which entailed visits to coffee shops. This winter’s biking extravaganza is the Errandonee Challenge, which is similar to the Utilitaire.

During the Utilitaire, I went out on a day when the winds were howling to run some errands. I put my head down and plowed into the back of a parked car. (For those of you who think this sort of thing is lame beyond compare, consider this. Dabis Phinney, one of the great American bicycle racers of the 1990s, once rammed the back of a car during the Tour de France. He launched himself face first through the car’s rear window. I, dear readers, managed only to fall ignominiously to the pavement.) @gypsybug was kind enough to award me an honorable mention for my efforts. I managed to complete the Coffeeneuring Challenge without injuring myself or my bike, but I don’t think my central nervous system will ever recover from all that caffiene.

Against my better judgment, I decided to give the Errandonee thing a go. I rode Little Nellie in blustery winds to the local pharmacy. This 2 1/2 mile trip should have taken me all of 20 minutes except for the diabetic man in the line in front of me who wanted his medicine but didn’t want to pay for it. Sir, bitching and moaning about the U.S. medical system is in aisle 2. Please move aside.

After getting home and taking off my layers of clothing, I looked in the bag from the pharmacy. No receipt. In order to be reimbursed by the persnickety folks who run the flexible spending account program at work, I needed a receipt. So I put the clothing back on and headed back to the drug store where, thankfully the receipt was found and the diabetic guy wasn’t. I rode home and prepared to file this blog.

I checked the Errandonee rules and learned that trips only count if you document them with a photo. Argh!!

So, right there I made the executive decision to bail on the contest. Paperwork and cycling just don’t go together for me.

I then decided to do some taxes and some college financial aid forms.

Do I know how to party or what?

Audio Ninja

A few months ago I coined the term “veloworker” to describe someone who tells their boss they’re telecommuting then goes out for a bike ride.

Yesterday I started a new feature of this blog. I call it Danger of the Day.

Today my neologistic skills meet Danger of the Day. I give you the audio ninja.

As every winter bike commuter knows, a ninja is a person who wears dark clothing on an unlit trail at night. Ninjas wear no lights and eschew reflective material. When backlit by a car’s headlights, ninjas are invisible. So far this winter I have had about 20 ninja near misses. Early in the winter I saw a bike commuter and a ninja disentangling themselves after the cyclist ran the ninja over south of National Airport on the Mount Vernon Trail.

Today during broad daylight I encountered a runner on the trail as I approached the base of the switchback bridge to Rosslyn. She was clad in black cycling clothes. Protruding from the bottom of her colorful woolen winter hat, I could see white earbuds. The earbuds were wired to an iPod or smartphone which she held in one of her gloved hands. She was running on the center line of the trail. As Big Nellie and I came upon her from behind, I rang my bell. She stayed in the center of the trail. I slowed and rang the bell again. Without looking she moved to the left directly in front of me. I started to pass her on the right and she moved back to the right in front of me, again without looking. I think that maybe she saw that bikes were coming down the bridge toward her on the left side of the trail. By this point, I was so close to her I nearly clipped her heels with my front wheel. I was tempted to use my fairing to deflect her into the weeds. Unfortunately, like my bicycle death ray, this sort of thing only really works in my imagination. Instead, I yelled “Give me a break!!!” or words to that effect.

So today’s Danger of the Day is the audio ninja: a trail user so zoned out on her music that she has no situational awareness whatsoever.

Like Savoir Faire, #bikedc Is Everywhere

During my bike commutes, I often see my regulars. These include Hoppy Guy, Three-step Runner, Fitness Woman, Grafixnerd Clone, and French Braid Cyclist. I don’t know any of them. In fact, with the exception of Hoppy Guy, we rarely acknowledge each other.

Once you start becoming known in the #bikedc community, this sort of annonymity goes out the window. In the last two days I have seen Bob (@Rcannon100) twice. Last night (as I forgot to mention in my blog post) I ran into Chris (@bilsko). This morning I saw Nancy (@nduley) who has become one of my regulars.

For many years Mrs. Rootchopper and I would wonder how we knew so many people in the DC area and never ran into them. When I am on the bike, that’s no longer the case. I’m lousy with names but there are now so many people in the #bikedc twitterverse that I can’t keep track of people’s actual names.

Then there is the strange case of Alex and Bec. There I was riding alone in the Tour du Port in Baltimore, when I hear a woman say, “Are you from DC?” Alex and Bec had spotted my pin from @SharrowsDC, a #bikedc blogger of ill repute.

I often get spotted by other cyclists when I am on my Bike Friday or my recumbent. Riding BOUDs (Bikes of Unusual Design) makes me stick out. Another give away may be my biking clothing which is to say my non-biking clothing. I wear a helmet and pretty much everything else I wear above my feet is whatever clothing works for the weather. My Marmot Precip jacket and pants are for hiking. My holey sweater was once a regular wool sweater. Some of my base layers are cheapo shirts from some random department store. For gloves I often wear mittens. It’s Hobo Chic.

Ironically, one of the reasons I started cycling as an adult was the fact that it was so hard to get a group of people together to play a team sport like basketball or softball. Now, it’s pretty easy to get a bunch of people together for a ride. I notified a bunch of #bikedc people about the Vasa ride in March. Nearly all of them signed up. It’s going to be crowded out there!

I wrote all the above during the day. I rode home. I saw no one I knew. Go figure.

The Impermanent Commuter

Today, was the 80th bike commute of 2012. That works out to about 2,300 miles going back and forth, back and forth. I should change my name to Duncan. I feel like a yoyo.

Today was also the end of my riding on Little Nellie for a while. I rotate my bikes every 1,000 miles so no it’s The Mule’s turn. Little Nellie’s odometer hit 8,000 miles on the way to work. I was all set to get ride of Little Nellie a couple of months ago but a change of saddle turned it overnight into my favorite bike. She needs some TLC, there’s some clicking and skipping and the like. I took her to my local bike shop the other day, but I want to get a second opinion so I am taking her to BicycleSpace tomorrow.

There’s a decimal point in there somewhere

This week I received my copy of Ride Somewhere Far, a self-published book by Claire Bangser (co-authored by Brandon Hill), about her first bike tour down the west coast, and her passion for alternative forms of education. You can buy a copy here.

Claire wrote a book!

Today’s bike commute was 35 miles. This is a bit longer than usual. Normally I ride 29 miles round trip but the nice weather has me adding miles here and there. I also went a mile out of my way to the Friday Coffee Club. I hung out at the boy’s table today. The women folk took one look at us and sidled away to the counter by the window. On the way home I dawdled in Jones Point Park to get a sense of the DMV (District, Maryland and Virginia) boundary markers. It’s like the Four Corners only Three.

My friend Florencia, who could not find happiness in all-too-conventional DC, flew the coop for southeast Asia a earlier in the summer. I found out today that she’s writing a blog called The Impermanent Resident of her own about her adventures. She’s quite a good writer. Check it out.

Last night after midnight my son called to tell us his car broke down a mile from home. Today he determined that the car had run out of gas despite the gas gauge reading full. This never happens on a bike. He took the car to a dealer and it turns out it is under recall and under warranty. Free repairs are always welcome.

This weekend I need to sit down and sort out my fall riding schedule. Do I dare do the Backroads Century and the 50 States ride on back to back days? Stay tuned.