Category: Cross Check

The End of the Errandonnee Is in Sight

Today is the final day of the 2016 Errandonnee. I didn’t actually plan it this way, but I had scheduled an eye doctor appointment for today back in February. I have glaucoma. The symptom of this eye disease is an increase in intraocular pressure. I have this pressure problem in both eyes. My right eye pressure spiked when he measured it last month so the doctor proscribed an additional medication for it.

I decided it would be less complicated if I worked from home. The distance to the doctor in Old Town Alexandria is 5 1/2 miles. I rode the Cross Check because I didn’t need to carry anything except a lock.

The skies were gray but the morning rain had stopped. The ride was uneventful. I like my eye doctor. It is only a coincidence that he is a bike commuter but that makes gives our conversation a focal point.

He tested my pressure and found that it was lower than at any time he’d been measuring it, which is several years. Yay drugs! What was interesting was the fact that the pressure in my left eye which hadn’t gotten any additional medication was also way down. Yay no drugs!

I rode home in a good mood and even decided to climb the Park Terrace hill. This hill is best climbed with a granny gear but the Cross Check doesn’t have one. I made it without much pain.

For those readers who are averse to taking medications, I looked up some research. Marijuana is known to reduced intraocular pressure. Its effects are short-lived meaning you’d have to get stoned 24/7 to get the desired medical result. Meditation has shown to have miniscule beneficial effect. Yoga, particularly asanas that involve inversion, that is, with your head down, is bad news.  Basically, I can be limber and blind or stiff and sighted.

So concludes the medical portion of our program.

(I know I only need 12 errands but I have to get them in 7 categories. Otherwise I’d just ride to work for seven of the errands.)

Errand No. 1425790505135_f8c3d2217d_m

Category: Personal Care

Distance: 11 1/2 miles

Observation:  The pressure test for glaucoma is painless. It involves having a machine guided by the doctor gently putting a pressure probe against the eyeball. If you think this is icky, blindness is ickier.

 

Vasanapping

Each spring the bike riding season in DC begins with the Vasa ride. This is an event put on by the Washington Area Bicyclists Association and the House of Sweden, a.k.a. the Swedish Embassy. There is a family ride of 16-ish miles, the Halvasa of 31-ish miles, and the 61-mile Vasa ride, known in Malmo as the Whole Lutfisk. Okay, I ma25124970033_bdd5088f21_my that up.

It was also the first day of Daylight Savings Time. So we lost an hour of sleep. Michelle is WABA’s event coordinator. She is known to carry a divining rod in her messenger bag. Of the time change, she said this:

“I only control the weather. I do not control time.”

That’s a relief. I think.

I drove to the ride because it was cold and dark and I had misplaced an hour overnight. I blasted the Chieftains because my peeps own this month, dammit. (Oddly, all Chieftains’ songs sound the same to me. Even dirges end up sounding like rowdy nights at the pub.)

At the start I talked with Michelle and Colin, WABA’s Jimmy Olsen, and with Michael from Friday Coffee Club. (Actually he’s one of three Michaels. Michael is the new Katie.) Michael was riding the short ride and I didn’t see anybody to ride with so I rode the 32-ish ride alone. I know the course by heart so there was no need for a cue sheet. Ride out K Street to the Capital Crescent Trail. Cross over the canal at the boathouse. Ride up the steep hill to MacArthur Boulevard. Ride MacArthur Boulevard until it tops out (literally) at Great Falls Park, bang a right on Falls Road. Ride until you see the WABA pit stop at Potomac Village. Drink from Ursula’s stash of Gatorade in the back of the truck. Look around for people to talk with. Seeing no one you know, retrace your path one half mile. Hang a looie into Avenel. See the big houses. See the pretty golf course. Bang a right on Persimmon Tree Road. See more houses. See a different golf course. Bang a left on MacArthur. Repeat the first 10 miles in reverse.

The route was a fitting place to try out the newly tweaked saddle height on the Cross Check. I think I am pretty close to dialing my set up in. My arms were a little sore but that could just be muscle atrophy from riding my recumbent so much. I did a 100 yard stretch on the canal towpath at the cross over point. Dang, if this bike isn’t awesome on gravel. Can’t wait to do the Whites Ferry century loop on this beast.

At the end of the25130723163_e981fa864b_m ride, I went into the embassy and had a cup of warm blueberry soup. It’s a thing. It tastes great after a cold ride. Did you know that the word “babe” is a direct translation from Swedish for Swedish Soup Lady? It’s true. I swear. I took a picture to prove it. Also, they said “Get well, Ricky!!!” because Ricky got clobbered by a car last week and they miss him.

I didn’t see anybody I knew so I left after one cup. Outside I ran into Tom and Kirstin. She’s Ultrarunnergirl . She and Hubs were doing an ultrasugarthon in Georgetown instead of riding the Vasa.

Greg, WABA Executive Director, appeared. He was all smiles after running a half marathon yesterday. You smile when the pain stops. It’s a running thing.

And so, I headed home. After a totally unhealthy lunch, I turned on the Nats spring training game. You know that hour of sleep that I lost? I found it. And a couple more.

Baseball cures the sleepy beast.

Tack to WABA, the Swedish embassy folks, and to all the volunteers.

 

Crossing 1,000

MG over at Chasing Mailboxes recently decided to put in as surge of running to get to 1,000 miles for the year. I thought this was not such a great idea because it reminded me of my running days when I discovered what I called junk miles. Junk miles are miles you run for reasons other than fitness. I wanted to run 3,000 miles one year (I biked a whole lot less in those days). So I was running lots of 70 mile weeks. Do the math. Mostly this meant that I spent a lot of time nursing injuries. After the year was over, I discovered that 60 miles per week worked every bit as well so I dumped about 10 junk miles off the weekly running schedule.

So what does this have to do with biking? Shortly after commenting to MG about the concept of junk miles, I noticed that I had about 900 miles on the odometer of my Cross Check. Hypocrisy be damned, I went for it.

After many miles of riding flat neighborhood streets I decided to put the 100-mile challenge to better use. I started seeking out hills. I hate hills. So I tackled Oxon Hill (twice), Mason Hill near my home (twice today), Beacon Hill (once is plenty), and assorted other hills leading from the GW Parkway near the river up the hill that runs roughly parallel.

To my surprise, I actually got better. Even today when I forgot to take my asthma medicine. Of course, I had help. El Nino and climate change have conspired to bring us unseasonably warm weather with generally light winds.

After doing my hills, I headed up the Mount Vernon Trail. On Union Street in Old Town Alexandria I came upon an old friend who I hadn’t seen in nearly a decade. I could tell because he was cycling with his son who was now 13. The last time I saw the boy he was a rugrat.

As we were talking, a co-worker of mine ran past. He’s pretty fast. Every time I see a runner with good form I feel a twinge of jealousy.

After the chat I did a loop north to Four Mile Run and back to my neighborhood.

I pulled into the driveway to record this picture:

24064109546_e127c5abb9_z.jpg

Mission accomplished.

See you next year….

To the Trestle and Back

Today I had the day off for Veterans Day. I still kind of like the original name, Armistice Day, the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, and all that.  It’s a decent Paul Simon song too. No disrespect to Veterans, mind you. My father was an amused Veteran. He used to tell the story that medical school students were drafted and left in school. The army would take them out to a base on Long Island and march them around. My father said they were pathetic, skinny, pale, uncoordinated. Gomer Pyles but with brains. My father stayed in the reserves through the Korean War. All this was before my time.

Having the day off, I decided to do one of my favorite rides, from my home in Mount Vernon Virginia to Bethesda, Maryland with a stop at Rock Creek Trestle. The temperature was in the mid-50s when I left with a strong northwest breeze, a headwind. You don’t get many windy days in the DC area when its warm so the breeze was a portent of many cold windy days to come.

I rode my Cross Check on the Mount Vernon Trail to Old Town Alexandria. The trail was covered in leaves and I was fearful of slipping and falling so I was extra careful. Once in Old Town I decided to leave the Mount Vernon Trail and head through most of Alexandria on a couple of newer bike trails. I picked the first trail up just off of West Street and rode it to the Braddock Road Metro station. There I zigzagged to get on the new trail that runs several miles, nearly all the way to Crystal City in Arlington. No lights. No stop signs. No obnoxious ticketing by Alexandria Police.

I rode through Crystal City and hit every traffic light on the green. This NEVER happens. My route took me on Boundary Channel Drive along side acres of Pentagon parking. Then I rode through Lady Bird Johnson Park, under the GW Parkway, up and over the Humpback Bridge, onto the 14th Street Bridge and across the Potomac River.

During this part of the ride the rear fender of the Cross Check became disengaged from its frame mount for what must have been the 20th time. I re-attached it and decided it was time for a permanent fix.

Once in the city, I rode the the K Street Bicycle Space store where a mechanic did what mechanics do and soon I had a fender that would not fall off. Knock wood. During the repair, I noticed that Paul, the mechanic most likely to play Doc Brown in Back to the Future IV, was working on an HP Velotechnik Street Machine. This is a recumbent to die for. The owner and I talked about the bike. He bought it from a Canadian for $1,500 Canadian. New this bike costs 2 – 3 times as much. The owner, who looked to be in my age cohort, rode it across the country. Dang! Bike envy!!!

Another customer came in to get her bike ready for Saturday’s Cider Ride. I didn’t have a chance to talk to her but maybe I’ll see her during the ride.

From Bicycle Space I headed up Sixth Street to check out the church whose congregation is upset by the possibility of having to share the street with a protected bike lane. Sixth Street is WIDE. I don’t see the problem here other than selfishness.

Beach Drive
Beach Drive in Rock Creek Park

I wended my way through town and up the protected 15th Street bike lane at Meridian Hill. This short hill is quite a bitch, I must say. I recovered by doing a slow lap in the park. On weekends the park is a hive of activity but today it was nearly deserted. I checked out the view of the water cascade and then headed through Adams Morgan to Rock Creek Park.

On weekends and holidays, Beach Drive, the main drag in the park, has limited car access. I rode north on the windy road, wind in my face, sun on my shoulders. It was a mighty fine ride. I made my way to the Georgetown Branch Trail and to the Rock Creek Trestle. The view from above the treetops is one of my favorites.

RC from Trestle
Rock Creek View from the Trestle
RCT and CC
The Cross Check Takes a Breather on the Trestle High above Rock Creek Park
GBT
Georgetown Branch Trail Heading West from the Trestle

After taking some pictures I headed west on the trail to Bethesda. I could tell that my body was not feeling it today. I still haven’t recovered from Sunday’s hike. I slogged on stopping only to refill my water bottles when I should have stopped to eat.

In Bethesda I picked up the mostly downhill Capital Crescent Trail and a tailwind. Ahhh.

Normally I be bombing along this trail at 20+ miles per hour but not today. I was suffering from insufficient junk food syndrome or IJFS. Don’t get this. Eat you donuts, people!!!

On the way home I rode past the Lincoln Memorial. I expected the place to be mobbed with Veterans checking out the nearby Vietnam, Korean, and WWII Memorials. There were plenty of people, many obviously veterans, milling about but I think whatever festivities there were had concluded hours earlier.

I made my way to the 14th Street Bridge and retraced my route to the south end of Old Town. Not wanting to ride the Mount Vernon Trail for the 400th time this year (a guess, but not too far off), I took Fort Hunt Road and Sherwood Hall Lane home. This is a pretty hilly route and I had nothing left in my legs so the going was slow.

Long story short:I managed to ride 55 1/2 miles on a sunny November Day. Not half bad.

Solo, Surly, Cider

About eight years ago, I bought a Bike Friday New World Tourist after listening to my friend Charmaine talk about how much she loved her Bike Friday. It took me about four years before I could get comfortable on what I came to call Little Nellie.

My only complaint about Little Nellie these days is that her little wheels transmit enough road shock to my lower back to make it somewhat uncomfortable to ride day in and day out. Of course, that didn’t stop me from riding it for 150 miles worth of commuting this week. And, predictably, my back was not real happy Friday night.

Little Nellie was custom made to mimic the geometry on The Mule, my old touring bike. I like both these bikes a lot but they are rather tank like in their weight and their ride qualities. I really wanted a bike I could take for long rides that was nimbler without beating my back up.

I have been hearing about Surly bikes now from several people. After hanging out with Katie Lee earlier this year, I heard an earful about her beloved Arrow, a Surly Cross Check. Arrow and Katie are a match made in heaven. After weeks of procrastination and test riding, I bought one.

It took me about 450 miles to get it set up to my satisfaction. The final tweak was a new higher rise stem. I’d done 30 mile easy rides with the bike set up this way with no ill effects on my body. It was time to put it to a more rigorous test.

Bright and early Saturday morning, I mounted my Cross Check on my car and drove to Warrenton, a town in the Virginia Piedmont, for the annual Great Pumpkin Ride. As luck would have it, this year the weather turned out to be pretty good: overcast with temperatures rising from the high 40s into the low 60s, with mostly light winds.

It has been a long time since I rode fast for an extended period of time. With fingers in lobster gloves crossed I headed out about 45 minutes before the official start on the 67 mile route.

I was rolling along without too much effort when I noticed I was going an unheard of (for me at least) 18 miles per hour. Hmmm.

I settled in to a groove mindful of the possibility that at any moment my legs would wake up and turn into stone. Thankfully the foliage was at its peak giving me something to take my mind off the burning sensation in my knees.

After a while faster people on faster bikes started to pass me. No worries. I let them go. I had no hope of keeping up with the carbon fiber crowd. I just settled into my little meditative trance and cruised along among the oranges and yellows and reds.

At 18 miles I had some hot apple cider and a scone with sweet icing on top. Off came my long wind pants and the t-shirt over my base layer. I tucked them in my Carradice saddlebag and hit the road.

I normally hate drinking cider but hot apple cider tastes wonderful in the middle of a bike ride on a cool fall day.

More miles went by. Every so often a decent sized hill would present itself. I stayed in the saddle. I shocked myself by actually passing some folks on the uphill. If I pass you on a hill, you suck at hill climbing. At one point I rolled past an alpaca farm. Somebody forgot to cue the Peruvian flute music so I rode on.

The second rest stop came about three miles later than I recalled. I kept at the pace. I had slowed since the first ten miles but I was still mostly riding over 15 miles per hour, about four miles per hour above my commuting speed. And the Cross Check and my Brooks Champion saddle (with springs) were eating up the bumps.

At the second stop, I had the same food as at the first. It works. I said hello to Steve, whom I met at Friday Coffee Clubs and Third Thursday Happy Hours, as I rolled out.

For the next 15 or so miles, the bike traffic was much heavier. The 67 mile route had merged with the 48 mile route. I figured I’d soon start to see some other friends.

No dice.

Roll on,

I started thinking that i could go leaf blind from all the foliage. At times the road went through a tunnel of oranges and yellows and reds.

After another 15 or so miles I rolled into the final rest stop at Old Bust Head brewery. I had some more cider and some potato chips for the salt. I met up with Paul, Amy, and Jody. They were doing the 30 mile route. We went into the brewery for a glass of the Octoberfest Marzen. I’m not saying it tasted good but I am looking to buy a home in the neighborhood.

Knowing my pace would be faster, I took off for the finish. The next ten miles are the hilliest part of the ride. There were several long false flats. These are roads that look level but go gradually uphill. These can be very discouraging: you pedal hard but your speed keeps dropping.

I kept on keeping on and soon I rolled into the finish. My knees were a little sore (not unusual) but my back felt fine. The Cross Check passed the test with flying colors.

My thanks go out to the volunteers and police who helped make this such an enjoyable ride. I’m already looking forward to next year.

Runner Blind

The plan was to ride my bike to the Army Ten Miler up in Arlington and DC and see three friends who were running. Megan was doing her last run before a triathlon in a couple of weeks. Kelly is my co-worker who underwent hip surgery earlier this year. It’s incredible to me that she’s well enough to run ten miles. I met Chris during the Cider Ride in 2013. He passes me occasionally on our rides to work. I rarely recognize him.

When I left the house the temperature was in the forties. Eeep! I broke out my long wind pants and some winter gloves. Who’s idea was this? The first five miles were shrouded in fog.

Not wanting to run afoul of Alexandria’s finest, I rode down Washington Street and endured the traffic lights. At the north end, an impatient driver coming from the north turned across my path. I yelled at him and he held his hands up as if to say, “It was the car’s idea.”

I decided not to ride to Long Bridge Park at the northern edge of Crystal City. This would mean that I could bypass the two mulch detours on the Mount Vernon Trail. Unfortunately, Crystal Drive was milled for paving. I managed to make it to the race course without losing any fillings.

I took up a position on the west side of Long Bridge Drive so that I could be in the sun. The runners were being directed to the left lane of the divided four lane road so I was right next to them. I watched as the wheel chair athletes came through. Then a pack of runners blew by. Then the mob came. Waves of runners. I looked for Megan who I expected to come through first. Since the start is staggered there was no way to tell when she’d arrive but I guessed that she would be the fastest of the three.

I watched as many Megan lookalikes came by. My friend Veronica is super fit with long curly red hair. Even woman with long curly red hair distracted me. Then came the occasional blade runner, amputees with a carbon fiber prosthetic. Dang. Just dang.

I started to think that I missed Megan then on the far side of the two lanes next to the center island I saw a woman in a lime green shirt. She looked at me and wave. Ay!!! GO MEGAN!!!

And then she was gone.

I waited and looked and looked and waited. Thousands of runners went by. After a while they my vision blurred. In winter you can go snow blind. At big road races you go runner blind.

The opposite side of the road was open to runners. Now I had four lanes of people to sort through. I realized that this was getting futile but I couldn’t leave because there were no breaks in the flow of runners.

I checked my phone. Chris had finished 30 minutes ago. I later learned that Kelly finished too. She was wearing long bright green socks. How I missed her is beyond me.

After waiting another 30 minutes the field thinned. I headed for home. It was no longer cold. In fact it was downright perfect.

I took my time enjoying the weather and the ride of my new Cross Check.

Once I got home, I took a book out on the deck and read in the warm sun, the air devoid of humidity. It is perfect sweatshirt and shorts weather. It is also perfect weather for a nap. I took full advantage.

Am I Back?

It’s been nearly two weeks since returning from my trip around the world. I still feel out of it. Going to Australia I was expecting to be destroyed by jet lag but it turned out to be pretty easy on my body and mind. I was a little groggy for the first couple of days but after that I was more or less adjusted.

We bounced across times zones like skiers on moguls. Here to LA was 5 hours. LA to Sydney was another 16 hours away but across the international date line. Ayers Rock is a half hour behind Sydney. Auckland is 2 hours ahead of Sydney. Phuket is three hours behind Syndey. As Paul Simon once sang, “It’s a wonder I can think at all.”

Coming back from Phuket was a killer. We continued westward through Abu Dhabi. Then on to JFK and then to Washington. We arrived at home at mid afternoon and we were zonked. Twelve time zones in about 28 hours of travel. And we repeated a day in the process.

For the next several days I was in a fog.

For days after returning my sense of smell was screwed up. It’s as if the gas exhaust smells of Phuket and the sulphur smell of Rotorua were stuck in my nose. I saw a picture of someone I know at Machu Pichu and I rather than thinking “How cool is that?” I actually thought, “I wonder what Peru smells like?”  A co-worker just returned from India. He mentioned the smells there too. (India is the smell capital of planet earth.)

After about a week, my mental fog lifted and my body fully adjusted. One thing that hasn’t adjusted is my social clock. I just have no social energy at all. I went to a birthday party for several people. We were partly celebrating my birthday. It was a lovely event. I received many thoughtful gifts. And the food was delicious. Never the less, my brain couldn’t stop focusing on the fact that my birthday was nearly two months ago and  I really, really, really didn’t want to think about it again. I’m old. I get it. I can’t do a damned thing about it. Yippee? Fug me.

On the bright side, I now qualify for the senior discount at most eateries.

The customs official in Thailand remarked to a colleague that I don’t look my age. The colleague laughed and translated for me. (For what it’s worth, she didn’t look a day over 40.) I could grow to like Thailand.

I went to Friday Coffee Club yesterday and just could not get into the conversation. I left about a half hour earlier than usual. I’ve been going to work but I have very little interest in interacting with my co-workers. I eat lunch alone. I close my door. The funny thing is I am not at all depressed. I just feel like curling up with a book. For days. My social tv is on a test pattern, what we used to call the maggot fights in high school.

Meanwhile, I am trying to get my new Cross Check set up so that it doesn’t kill my neck and lower back. I bought a new stem that brings the handlebars up, nearly even with the saddle. I changed the tilt of the saddle too. My 20-mile test ride included a bunch of hills, which I normally avoid. (Those familiar with the ride up to Oxon Hill Road and up Beacon Hill know why.) The new, more upright position definitely slows me down, but at least I am not all sore afterward. I will probably ride the Cross Check for the Great Pumpkin ride in a couple of weeks. That will be my last event ride until spring.

So if I seem a little off it’s just the 24 time zones, 60+ hours of flying, and old age talking.

If you see me riding on the left side of the road, don’t mind me. My mind is just on the other side of the world.

From “Fritter to Oblio to Deets”

I have come up with several names for my new bike, a Surly Cross Check. Here’s a list:

  • Fritter – This is brilliant I must say on several levels. Cool that it came from someone with the same initials as my Twitter handle. And that she sold me the bike.
  • Checkers – This one bewilders me. Reminds me of Nixon. Would I have to wear a Republican cloth coat while riding it this winter. I’d be inclined to go with Fala.
  • Harper – A swing and a miss from Katie Lee, a serious Nats and Cross Check fan. It was her enthusiasm for her Cross Check that got me interesting in buying one. Can’t use it because it’s the name of my son’s ex-girlfriend’s brother. Also, would sound exploitative of Harper Lee (a twisted coincidence) who’s been exploited enough this year.
  • Tony – This one’s actually kind of growing on me. It has multiple levels. Anthony Rendon, a.k.a Tony Two Bags a.k.a Tony Rendoni is my favorite Washington National. Mostly because he sometimes yawns during at bats. (How anybody can yawn when they are about to face a 98 mile per hour heater is beyond me.) Also, Tony Conigliaro was beaned on my 12th birthday, an event that began 37 years of summer suffering. Until Cowboy Up!.
  • Bryce – Another one from Katie Lee. I am pretty sure that she was not referring to Bryce Canyon or Bryce Dallas Howard. I am also pretty sure she was jerking my chain. She’s exceptionally good at that.
  • Oblio – the name of the character who owns Arrow the dog in The Point. Katie named her Cross Check Arrow. Now that I think about it, Oblio might be better used as a nickname for Katie. Or maybe Oblia. (You may shoot me now Katie.)
  • Several from Lonesome Dove
    • Woodrow – the name of Tommy Lee Jones’s character in Lonesome Dove. He’s a hard working hardass.
    • Augustus – the name of Robert Duvall’s Lonesome Dove character. He as a drunk and a womanizer with a heart of gold.
    • The Hell Bitch – a short-lived name I once used for The Mule. It’s Woodrow’s horse’s name.
    • Lore Darlin’ or Lorena – the name of the “sportin’ woman” that Augustus protects (and “pokes”) in Lonesome Dove. (Readers of this blog know that this name has a second meaning to me of much more serious import. I won’t use it on something so frivolous as a bike name. I love the name though.)
    • Newt – Woodrow’s illegitimate son. Just a weird name.
    • Deets – Joshua Deets, the scout for the Hat Creek catttle drive.  “Cheerful in all weathers. Never shirked a task. Splendid behavior.” Sounds like a bike you’d want to have on a long ride, doesn’t it.
  • Wilson – A triple meaning name. It’s the name of the National’s catcher. It’s the name of a Phish song (Katie is a Phish Phanatic). It is an old nickname for my siblings and me. I  hated being called this. (And, yes, I also am ruling out “Charge” and “Fence”.) Although now that I think about it “Mustang Sally” wouldn’t be so bad.
  • McCloud – an running joke from a Mystery Science Theater episode that I watched at Katie’s insistence. It doesn’t hurt that McCloud rode a horse in the New York City in the credits of the eponymous TV show.

So there you have it.  I’m heavily leaning towards “Deets”. It would be nice to know what his horse’s name was, but you gotta like a bike that is “cheerful in all weathers”.

Dialing It In

Whenever you ride a new bicycle, there is a period during which you make adjustments. You figure out which adjustments to make by reading the pain in your body. The simplest adjustment is seat height. If your seat is too low, the backs of your knees will hurt. If it is too high, the front of your knee (or more likely just below the knee) will hurt. I measured the distance between the crank axles and the saddle on The Mule and set the Corss Check’s saddle at the same height.

Other adjustments to the back end (so to speak) are the fore/aft position of the saddle and the tilt of the saddle. I use the identical tilt on my other bikes so I can use a level to ensure that the tilt on the Cross Check’s saddle is correct. I also know that my Brooks saddles are always shoved as far back as possible. This is partly because the rails on Brooks saddles narrow toward the front of the saddle making extreme rearward positioning pretty much impossible. (You can force the issue but the saddle rails almost surely will break. This happened to me when riding down a big hill in the Catskills. It was an interesting experience.)

The front end of the bike can be adjusted as well. You can raise or lower your handlebars and rotate them up or down. Finally, you can swap out the stem (the horizontal piece that connects the steering tube to the handlebars) for a longer or shorter one.

After 160 or so miles, my knees were happy. My buttocks were happy. My hands were happy. That’s the good news.

The bad news is that my neck and shoulders were decidedly not happy. And my lower back was aching 30 miles into every ride.

I measured the distance between my handlebar’s brake hoods (the tops of the brake levers where I usually rest my hands) and the saddle (using the center hole in my Brooks saddles which are identical on all three bikes). I compared the measurements on the Cross Check and The Mule. The Cross Check was a couple of centimeters longer than The Mule. So I tilted the handlebars up and to the rear, just a bit. The distance was still longer but I had cut it by two-thirds. Then I went for a ride.

This helped quite a lot. My lower back seemed happier. I was no longer reaching (and extending my back) to get to the brake hoods. My neck and shoulders were still not thrilled.

So I raised the handlebars a bit. This is really easy. You take the spacer on the top of the stem and move it beneath the stem.

I took this configuration for a 12 mile ride. No problems. So I think I have made some progress.

Past experience tells me that the adjustments are not over. It took me 7,000 miles of fiddling to dial in Little Nellie. Similarly, The Mule once had a lower rise stem. Time made my back less flexible so I put a higher rise stem on it.

So I suspect I may need to try a shorter stem. I did this on Little Nelle only to eventually return to a longer stem. Sometimes your body adapts, I suppose.

I

Any Excuse for a Ride

I am going hiking tomorrow and have three medical appointments on Wednesday so I figured I might as well take today (Monday) off and get a five day weekend out of the deal.

The shifting on my new Cross Check was sloppy. It was starting to annoy me even though this is expected as the chain stretches. I could have fiddled with the little dial adjuster thingie for a few minutes and fixed it myself, I suppose. That would be rational. That would not be me.

I bought my Cross Check at Bicycle Space in DC. As part of the purchase, they will tweak your bike’s gears and brakes for a year after purchase for free. Good deal. So I hopped on my bike and headed into town along the nearly empty Mount Vernon Trail.

It was a nice ride except for the inferno part. Dang was it hot!

The ride went smoothly. It’s fun to ride a brand new bike over familiar terrain. I was taking it easy and still going significantly faster than when I ride my other bikes. This Cross Check is an animal.

As I suspected from riding with Katie Lee and her Cross Check, this bike shines in traffic. It is so much more agile than my other bikes and it’s wide-ish tires eat up the bumps in the road.

The good mechanic at Bicycle Space on K Street tweaked my gears and showed me a peculiarity of my shifter. We traded names and, true to form, I forgot his within about three blocks. He was a very nice guy. So, thanks Nice Guy.

I decided to meander around town for a bit. My friend Emilia teaches at Mundo Verde, a bi-lingual (Spanish and English) charter school with a focus on sustainability. I decided to go check it out. I should have taken a picture. It was muy bueno. My boss and a co-worker send their kids there. They tell me that the teachers are muy bueno too.

As I rode by, some people were sitting on the lawn in front of the building. It looked like some teachers were getting organized for the coming school year. This must be an exciting time of year to be a teacher.

I circled back and headed west across town on O Street which is a pretty quiet route to take considering it’s only a few blocks from downtown. At 11th Street I turned north. This was another quite street. I guess everyone must be working. What’s up with that?

I took a left on Euclid and rode over to Meridian Hill Park, which was featured on page 1 of the Washington Post today. The park is in two big tiers. The top tier is an open rectangular field with shaded areas along the longer sides. This is where the drum circle is and where circus of slack lining, hula hooping, acroyoga-ing folks hang out on the weekend. From the edge of the top tier, you can look down on the cascading water feature of the low tier. Whoever designed this was a genius. It is just stunning. A public sector thing done amazingly right.

After chilling in the park, I headed down 16th Street. A driver from Virginia nearly sideswiped me about a block before he made a left hand turn from the right lane. Some people simply should not be allowed to drive.

I slalomed through the tourists near the White House with aplomb. Actually, it was with a bike but I don’t get to use the word aplomb often.

Acro20651892132_b05724fba0_zss the river and down the MVT rode I. Instead of mindlessly riding straight home, I made my way over to Del Ray where I had had a root beer float at the Dairy Godmother ice cream shop. It was gone within minutes. Darn tasty.

Back on the bike, the heat of the day was starting to wear on me. I rode to Old Town to buy a postcard for the August Post Card Challenge.

On the way home I decided to chow down on some tater tots so I headed to Del Ray Pizzeria‘s Belle Haven location. (I could have simply gone to the Del Ray location. It’s only three shops down from the Dairy Godmother.)  The tater tots were ho20669470851_a12618b5b3_zrs categorie. The pilsner and the koltch were not too shabby either.

The ride ended with a slog up a big hill on Fort Hunt Road and a long glide toward home.

By the time I arrived my lower back was feeling sore. Too many miles and hills on a new bike will do that to you. Good thing one of my Wednesday medical appointments is a massage.