Billy Goating at Winter’s End

The low 40F Degree temperatures and the cooling breeze and clouds did not exactly call to my bikey brain today. Off I drove (yes, I have a car) to the gym to push and pull on the machines. The machines won.

Then it was off to Great Falls National Park in Maryland. I pulled into the Carderock area that is located about 2 miles outside the Beltway. The access road passes beneath the C&O Canal and towpath. After parking and getting myself all arranged with layers and hat and Buff and backpack full of water bottles, I set off the Billy Goat C trail, clockwise toward the river. I was walking upriver and the breeze was in my face. It took about a half mile to warm up. My legs had bounce in them and I was cruising along, resisting the urge to break into a trot. Slow. Down.

There were no leaves on the trees, so the place looked rather stark. I had good views of the river and they didn’t disappoint. After about a mile, the path looped back to the towpath. I headed further upriver on the towpath.

The canal in some sections has water. I noticed some tall reeds near my side of the waterway. Inside the grass was a great blue heron shopping for lunch. A few hundred yards later I could hear the quacking of a duck. The duck was with about sever others, paddling about near the far side of the canal. I saw something move in the tall grass on the canal’s far bank. It was a fox, stalking the ducks. No worries. They kept themselves out of paw’s reach.

The sky was full of bird’s chirping. A massive flock of birds filled the trees beyond the canal. Suddenly, they became quiet and flew of in a cloud of winged mayhem. Seconds later they landed in some trees no more than a hundred yards from where they started. The racket began anew. Birdbrains.

I kept walking past the sign for the Billy Goat B trail. I was taking the canal to the western entrance so I could loop back along the river. Like the C trail and the towpath, the B trail was practically deserted. I was also fortunate that it was dry. The towpath, which is flat and has poor drainage, had some muddy sections.

Back along the river, wind at my back, I cruised along. My legs were still fresh but my decrepit lower back was not on board for the fun. Fortunately, I came upon some big rocks on the river’s edge. I sat down and pulled out a water bottle. The water was rushing over some rocks about 50 yards into the river. Once my breath calmed, I listened.

Is there anything more relaxing than the sound of rushing water?

I listened.

The cool breeze tried to distract me. It failed.

I listened.

After perhaps 15 minutes, I decided to get up before I fell asleep. If it had been 10 degrees warmer, I’d be curled up in a ball snoring.

It took a few minutes to get myself back into an ambulatory mood. Rock scrambles, none too difficult for an old dude with balance issues, persuaded me to get with the program.

I made it across a small stream. Most people would dance across on the rocks but my body seems to prefer stumbling.

Soon I was turning back to the towpath up two quick rises. With the wind at my back, I hiked the towpath beyond where I had parked my car to pick up the C trail. The trail took me back to the river and eventually, to the car.

My legs felt fine. My lower back was bitching up a storm. I didn’t care. My head felt great.

So my first hike, a six-miler, of the new year was over. A productive use to a cold and gray afternoon.

Eagles and Boomerangs

The day started with the trill of a red wing black bird in Dyke Marsh only 3 miles from home. Ten miles later on the Trollheim boardwalk beneath the Teddy Roosevelt Bridge I spotted a great blue heron only a few feet from the trail on the river’s edge.

The ride home I played pin ball with Canada geese. I didn’t hit any. The temperature was in the low 70s. I looked longingly at the trees across the river. A few cherry trees were in bloom but most were still waiting for a burst of warm weather. They’ have to wait a few more days. We all have our fingers crossed that a blast of cold air will not ruin this year’s peak blossom now scheduled for March 19.

On the way home I stopped to take a picture of Little Nellie in the twilight. Big Ed came rolling along. He just came back from Florida. He had the good taste not to have a deep brown tan. Otherwise I might have had to push him into the river. Earlier a schoolkid had tried to hit him with a boomerang as Ed rode past the Washington Monument. He missed (after Ed threatened him. Did I mention that Ed was big?) The rider behind Ed had to swerve into traffic an nearly got hit by Crocodile Dundee. Poor kid. He doesn’t know that Ed’s HD camera caught both attacks. The kid was wearing a school uniform and was standing next to a classmate who had a cast on his arm. Busted.

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Big Nellie at Dyke Marsh at Twilight

Ed and I parted ways. Ed rode up the big hill on Park Terrace while I stayed along the river to check out the eagle nests. As I approached the Tulane nest, I thought I saw a large mass next to the nest. It was twilight so I wasn’t sure. As I rolled under the nest I saw wings fan as an eagle descended into the nest from the left. Cool! On the right side of the nest, I saw the partner eagle standing guard. I think what I witnessed was the changing of the guard as the eagles incubate their egg(s).

Tomorrow promises a return to cold and wet weather. Little Nellie and I are taking Mrs. Rootchopper’s car to the dealer for some TLC, and a 3 1/2 mile bike commute.

Cheers.

 

Intentionally Outdoors

I have been sick on and off for the last three weeks. Nothing major, just a cold that seems to be wandering around my body disrupting things. Mostly, it makes me tired. So I thought I would use this weekend to just lie around in my jammies and rest.

I did pretty well. I watched some football, something I don’t usually do without my son’s insightful and amusing play by play. He is 12 hours away so I went solo.

Knowing I was going full coach potato during the games, I intentionally hopped on Deets yesterday for an easy bike jaunt. I decided to ride the tour of Arlington (a bike trail circuit around the county) in a counter clockwise direction. I also planned to throw in a quick ride to Hains Point in DC because it’s what #bikedc people do.

On my way past the airport I ran into Ryan, master planner of our No Wrong Plan bike tour in 2015. He was riding from Bethesda to buy a used seat post for the Frankenroadbike he is building. During our discussion he gave me the idea to switch my route to a ride up Rock Creek Park. Once I left, I reconsidered. I was already tired and a clothing experiment I was trying was not working out leaving me chilled.

So it was down to Hains Point then back across the Memorial Bridge. The city is teeming with tourists who think it’s perfectly okay to walk four and five abreast on sidewalks. I refrained from giving them a good talking to hoping they’d scurry back to Peoria in due time.

Around the foot of Arlington Memorial Cemetery where the white gravestones are still adorned with a Christmas wreath. I could tell my body was not having fun when I climbed the hill near the Netherlands Carillon. The fun lessened as I rode the hilly Custis Trail, all the while thinking, “What crackpot thought this route up?” (Er, that would be me.)

I reached the turnaround at the W&OD and its gradual downward decline toward home. I arrived at home super tired after my 40 mile rest ride and realized I had a splitting sinus headache. I went to use my sinus irrigation gizmo but it was broken. I took drugs, watched the Steelers win, and went to sleep.

Today I slept in. (The drugs were good.)  I needed to get a new sinus gizmo and a book to read since I was nearly through with The Arm. Mindful of my intention to rest, I rode to the Barnes and Noble in Potomac Yard, because that is the only bookstore anywhere near my hours. Ten miles away. On the way I noticed a stalker in Dyke Marsh. A great blue heron that was sticking around for winter.

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I bought Michael Lewis’s Flash Boys at the bookstore and turned around for home. It was surprisingly nice out, especially for mid January. (We will pay for this in a week or two.)

Just before I reached home, I stopped at a drug store and bought a neti pot. It was time to go old school. I used it when I got home and felt quite a bit better.

In two days of rest, I rode 60 miles. It was good to be outdoors again. I only work Wednesday and Thursday this week. I am hoping the weather is good for inauguration day so that I can ignore the festivities hiking somewhere. For those of you who want to save time, here’s what will happen. The big wigs assemble at the Capitol. They swear the new guy in. He makes a lame speech. There’s a parade.

Go outside. It’ll be huge.

 

 

Joyful

I don’t know what has gotten into me. Maybe it’s the contrast with feeling so depressed over the last two months. This morning when I left for work it was 26 degrees. That would have had me looking at the car with just a month ago. Now I was eager to start pedalling.

So I did.

I was a bit cold for a couple of miles. I went by the site of yesterday’s downed tree. It had been removed. but somebody’s probably without cable service as the cables were still lying on the ground.

I made it down to the river without apparent effort. It’s been a long time since I was able to ride four days in a row without feeling tired. No problem today, though.  When I arrived at the Dyke Marsh bridge the sun was rising so I had to stop for a photo and just to admire the beauty. No two sunrises are alike, I suppose. My hat’s off to the man in the sky. You paint awesome pictures.

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Once again I was in mediation mode. Miles whizzed by and I have no recollection of them. Just the cold air going in and out of my lungs, the cold breeze chilling my face.

At the troll bridge, I spotted the great blue heron again. It was perched in the low hanging branch of a tree about 15 feet from the edge of the trail. I stopped to admire it and take a picture. I feared that the squeak of my brakes and the sight of me fumbling around with the phone would scare it off, but it waited patiently. I am ready for my close-up, Mr. Rootchopper.

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My morning photography complete, I rode up the switchback to Rosslyn. The hill didn’t bother me at all. What is going on?  I never smile while climbing.

I went to turn left onto the Lynn Street sidewalk as I do every morning. A car in the nearest lane was rolling forward toward the red light. I guessed that it wasn’t going to stop. And it didn’t. If I had simply followed the law I would have been hit. Instead I yelled at the driver, who was conversing on his cell phone as he turned, oblivious to me or the pedestrains crossing from the opposite side. He looked over at me, shrugged, and drove on. Police were getting set up for traffic enforcement just a few yards up the road. Too bad they weren’t quite ready for him. A walker coming from the opposite side of the crosswalk shook his head and said, “What a jerk.”

Despite Mr. Shrug I maintained my good humor and was rewarded with an invisible cloud of donut aroma. It got stronger as I approached the entrance to my building. A donut truck was parked there, pumping donut essences into the cold air. What a perfect capstone to a bike commute. (I resisted the urge to purchase as the aroma of a donut far exceeds the eating.)

As I parked my bike, I took a drink from my water bottle. Yesterday morning, it was solid ice. Today, it took a little doing to free up the valve but I managed to get cold, cold water from it and it was better than the finest wine.

The ride home featured a headwind. Ack! The gods are messing with my commute bliss. It also featured a temperature of 54 degrees. I could ride without my clumsy overshoes. Headwind? Who cares?  This was great. And it was light out for ten of the 15 miles of my trip.

I could get used to this.