What do you do when the temperature drops and the winds pick up and your winter “spare tire” needs another layer of fat for reading season? For me, the answer is the Cider Ride. This is the Washington Area Bicyclists Association’s (WABA) early November event, showcasing the Anacostia River watershed, the Beltsville Agricultural Research Center (BARC), and the Patuxent Research Refuge. The course I rode was the 60-mile Honeycrisp Route. This has 1,904 feet of climbing, most of which is in the BARC complex. My steed du jour was The Mule, my Specialized Sequoia touring bike.

My group of riders originally was the usual suspects: Chris, Michael, Kevin, Neena, and me. Over the last few days and weeks we were joined by Marc, Kyle, and Taylor all of whom rode the 50 States Ride with us back in September. Sara and Beth, also from the 50-States posse, had planned a fun weekend in Philadelphia but changed their mind and joined the crew. Finally, Domitille and Timothee who have been intermittent participants decided to ride the first part of the ride. They brought along Sonia, our only newbie.

The weather conditions made for uncertain clothing decisions. Temperatures were in the 50s with a chilling wind. After adding and subtracting layers, we posed for a picture and rolled out just before 9 a.m., hoping to avoid the main group of riders who were set to start at 9:30.

The route begins with a traverse of the middle-class neighborhoods of Northeast DC on city streets. You don’t hear about these on the news but this could be AnyCity, USA: modest detached houses with front porches. We crossed into Maryland at Mount Rainier. Here the route differed slightly from the past but Chris and Michael guided us through the changes. We ended up, as in prior years, on the Brentwood Levee Trail before transitioning to the Anacostia Tributary Trail. (On the Levee Trail I was riding on the left chatting away when I nearly collided with an oncoming rider. She alerted me by calling me a vulgarism. I didn’t disagree with her assessment. I veered out of her way.) After about a mile we picked up the Northwest Branch Trail. Foliage alert! Wow!

Somehow I managed to get in front of our pack of riders. I was being ultra careful not to slip on wet leaves, the only downside to the abundant foliage. We came to a fork in the trail and, despite having done this ride multiple times, I wasn’t sure which way to go. (We had taken a wrong turn here in the past and I couldn’t remember which way was correct.) I pulled off the trail and heard Michael yell something about “BLUE”. There were blue dashed lines on the path to the left, This was the Paint Branch Trail which led us to and around Lake Artemesia, which looked amazing with the sun and the foliage reflecting on the water.

We continued on the trail past College Park where I waved hello to my friend Lisa who was participating in a fun run. At this point I was lagging behind most of our group riding with Sonia. Michael was waiting at the critical turn that took us away from the watershed and onto the streets of Hollywood. Hooray!

In short order we arrived at Proteus Bikes, the site of the first pit stop. Mile 13.5 for those of you keeping score. Donuts (and other snacks) and cider were consumed. Here our group splintered. Michael and Neena had a need for speed so the rode off together. Chris decided to ride back to his home near the start; he needed to take it easy because of an upcoming medical procedure. Domitille and Timothee also turned around to rendezvous with other friends who were doing the 10-mile route of the event.

The remaining eight riders soldiered on. After a mile and a half on wide suburban roads we arrived at the edge of the 6,500-acre BARC. A few people were holding signs opposing the Trump administration’s proposal to close the site.

We turned onto Beaver Dam Road to begin our five-mile, west-to-east traverse of the rolling farmland. The group split apart here with six riders breaking away and Sonia and I behind. Sonia confessed that she had not ridden much before the ride and her bike was in need of some mechanical work. Every time she shifted to a lower gear to make climbing easier her derailieur made a chittering noise. She carried on in a higher gear, slowing her uphill pace to a crawl. I slowed and kept an eye on her in my mirror. We had talked about navigating the course at the start. She wasn’t familiar with much of the route so she decided to just follow the group. That meant that, with the group mostly well ahead of us, she would have to follow me.

I looked in my mirror to see her and, time and again thought “That must be her.” Nope. The riders that began after us started passing in twos and threes. Eventually she’d make it to the top of a hill, take drink of water, and forge onward. At 20 miles into the route, I thought for sure she’d throw in the towel but damned if she didn’t persist.

We left the BARC and made our way a few more miles to the Patuxent Research Refuge. The access road was through a riot of dense trees in full autumn attire. We arrived at the visitors center. I learned there that the other six riders arrived there 90 minutes earlier. Ugh. Sonia took a long break in the visitors center. When she came out she said that she planned on quitting in about 20 miles on the Trolley Trail near her home in College Park.

On we rolled, back out of the refuge and onto Powder Mill Road, reversing our steps for two miles. We turned right to begin a six-mile loop through a wooded area followed by a suburban neighborhood. On this stretch we met a fit, obviously experienced, older rider with a road bike standing on the side of the road. He had a tire “blow out” and didn’t have a spare. I would have tried to help him but I knew my much wider tubes were unlikely to work. (There were at least a dozen course marshals who are supposed to deal with this sort of thing but I only once saw a marshal actually helping a rider. The rest were riding in groups chatting; not one said so much as hello as they passed Sonia and me – even to ask if we were okay as we trailed the rest of the field. End of rant.)

We returned to Powder Mill Road along the northern edge of the BARC. We banged a right on Research Road to head south on a flat road, flat that is until the biggest climb of the day into Greenbelt. About half way up the hill the road is blocked by a gate. I waited there as I watched Sonia grind away at the incline. I thought for sure she’d walk it but she made it nearly all the way to gate. I was impressed with her tenacity.

After the gate there was a bit more climbing before we descended into Greenbelt and the second pit stop at Buddy Attick Lake Park, The WABA crew was beginning to take down their tables but, lucky for us, there was still plenty of donuts and hot cider. (Sonia opted for popcorn which she pronounced to be delicious.) I noticed a WABA employee whom I had seen at a pit stop on the 50 States Ride. She looked like a younger version of a friend of mine so I ask her if she was related. They weren’t but they were friends and, as it turns out, I wasn’t the first one to notice the similarity. Dopplegangers are so cool.

We left the pit stop and made our way back to the trail around Lake Artemesia. We rode around the lake and backtracked along the Paint Branch and Northwest Branch Trails. More foliage. Dang. At 42 miles we left the trail system (the cue sheet said, “turn right at the porta potties”) and rode Somerset Street in Riverdale Park. The neighborhood looked like Mayberry with small detached houses all seemingly freshly painted. I swear I saw Opie on a scooter.

With Sonia trailing a block behind I signaled my left-hand turn onto Lafayette Street which ran parallel to a railroad line. A half mile later I was crossed the rail line and arrived at a parking lot for the Trolley Trail. I looked behind me expecting to see Sonia. No Sonia. I waited then backtracked to Somerset but she was nowhere to be found. Abducted by aliens? It turned out that a right on Lafayette also leads across the rail tracks to the Trolley Trail. I figured she took that route so I went back the way I came. Sure enough, Sonia had done exactly that and was waiting for me in the parking lot.

It was now time to part ways. Sonia headed home. I headed for the finish about 16 miles away. All day the temperature had fallen and risen whenever clouds blocked the sun. Now the temperatures were not rebounding and I had a strong, cold headwind to contend with. The sun was getting low in the sky. Expecting to be done well before sunset, I hadn’t bothered to bring lights. Time to boogie! I more or less doubled my speed down the Trolley Trail through Hyattsville where I discovered that a restaurant that I want to visit backed onto the trail. It also sells ice cream. Alas, there was no time for Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough,

In a mile, the trail intersected with the trails on our outbound route, a new connection not on previous Cider Rides. A nice surprise. I glanced at the cue sheet and recognized the rest of the route. I arrived at the Bladensburg Waterfront Park on the Anacostia where the final pit stop had been. The donuts and cider were long gone.

The route continued down the east side of the Anacostia River eight miles before crossing to the west side and heading back upriver for a mile. I turned off the trail near RFK Stadium or so I thought. The stadium was torn down so I couldn’t tell one vast empty lot from another. I consulted the Google and got back on track, taking C Street and Massachusetts Avenue west past the Capitol and around Union Station.

Two miles of cycletrack and off-road trail later, I arrived at the finish. Dead last. Oh, the shame.

I was pleased to find most of the gang had stayed for my arrival, eating pizza and beer. Michael bought me a beer and Neena graciously agreed to eat some of the pizza I bought to keep me from gastronomic excess. I drank. I ate. Night fell. Stories were told.

As we parted ways a cold wind arose as if to announce the end of bike event season for 2026.

Thanks to all the good folks at WABA and the volunteers for staging this event. Thanks to our awesome bakers dozen (appropriate, no?) of riders who made the brief time we rode together grand.

As I mentioned in my previous post, my Cider Ride buddy Katie went to New York City to ride the NYC 100-mile event. Unfortunately, FDNY had other ideas. One of its drivers ran over her bike while it was locked in front of the restaurant where Katie was eating brunch.

The bike was totaled but Katie found a replacement and soldiered on. Today she posted this on Instagram.

Totally amazing. Well done, Katie.

Yesterday I rode the Great Pumpkin Ride out of Warrenton, Virginia. As is often the case, I get a bit stressed out in the days before the ride. For one thing, I could see that the weather forecast called for temperatures in the high 30s during check in time, around sunrise. The temps were predicted to rise into the low 60s by mid afternoon. How would I dress for this? I decided to ride The Tank which is not the greatest bike for hilly terrain. Would my legs hold up? Would there be long lines at check in? At the porta potties? At the food tables at the pit stops? Ack!

I decided to drive to the ride in time to check in at 7:30. No problem. I went to bed around 11 p.m. I woke up every 45 minutes or so, rolled over, and hoped for some serious sleep. Didn’t happen. I finally left my bed 10 minutes at 5:20. Ack!

After a quick breakfast – Corn Chex atop a banana and a handful of blueberries with a cup of green tea – I put The Tank on my car rack and got ready to roll. Did I mention it was going to be cold? My windshield was iced over. I had to go back inside and find a scraper. Ack!

Window scraped, I set off for Warrenton about 10 minutes later than I had hoped. Fortunately traffic at 6:30 a.m. on a Saturday morning was nonexistent. I arrived in Warrenton at 7:15, parked, and headed to check in. There was no line. I used a porta potty, no line again, and found a spot in the rising sun.

I was actually pretty comfortable despite the temperatures in the low 40s. I had on a long sleeve base layer, a t-shirt, a wool blend sweater, and my riding vest, all paired with long, wool blend socks, a pair of bike shorts under my warm, long bike pants. On my head I had a mid-weight skull cap and a buff. I had a lightweight pair of lobster gloves for my hands.

While I waited for the start I noticed that the usual epically long lines never materialized at either check in or the porta potties. Weird.

Just before 9, riders started to amass at the caboose where the ride was to begin on a rail trail. I expected a safety speech followed by a air horn. I looked up and saw the riders in the front rolling out. Then I heard church bells ringing. This must be it. Off I went in the midst of the throng. The throng seemed considerably smaller than in the past. More road for me!

After a bumpy mile on the rail trail we switched over to two-lane country roads for the next 60 miles. The entire ride is a series of small ups and downs. During the first 15 miles we lost 500 feet of elevation but overall we’d climb 2,487 feet on the “ups”.

I rode past dozens of farms, sheep, cattle, dairy cows, a horse or two. The corn and soybeans had already gone to market. There was not much in the way of fall foliage. I guess that will come in a few days. About the only vivid color was the green grass on the sod farms around 45 miles into the ride.

My wife had convinced me to bring snacks to avoid the long food lines at the pit stops. There were none. There was plenty of food – pumpkin soup, pumpkin pie, pumpkin grilled cheese, and the usual non-pumpkin fare. I’m not a fan of pumpkin so I stuck to bananas, M&Ms, a half a donut, and some Gatorade. I also ate some cookies and a Clif Bar from my snack bag.

At the second rest stop, with temperatures in the high 50s, I removed my t-shirt layer. At the last rest stop about 45 miles into the day, I switched to shorts that I had stashed in my trunk bag. I was perfectly comfy the entire ride.

Aside from what appeared to be a much smaller number of riders than in years past, the biggest change was the fact that most of the roads on the course had been recently paved. This, and the lack of wind, made for licketly split riding. I was shocked to see my average speed in the 14 to 15 mile range for the first 45 miles. At one point the course descends a long windy hill to a bridge at Kelly’s Ford. In years past this was a scary, bumpy ride. In fact a couple of years ago a rider in a bg group of roadies wiped out at the bridge across Marsh Run. With the smooth new pavement I tore down the hill. At the end of the ride, my bike computer said my maximum speed was 49 miles per hour. If this was accurate, that’s the second fastest I’ve ever gone on a bike. (It was probably bogus, but computers are always right, aren’t they?)

My worries about The Tank handling the hills were for naught. There were a handful of times when I maxed out my legs near the top of a climb, but mostly I hill hopped, bombing down one hill and using the momentum to get over the next. No worries. Unlike last year, I had no mechanical issues.

One of the things I dislike about event rides in the country is the behavior of riders in clusters. Typically, they zoom past you without warning which is really dangerous. I only had one instance of this happening this year and it involved only one rider, a MAMIL (middle aged man in lycra) apparently trying to show his bikey bona fides. Otherwise, riders riding in groups were great about giving a warning and passing with plenty of room. Sometimes on rural rides, the locals in cars get annoyed at being delayed by riders – excessively fast passes, honking horns and such. Not this year. Well played, y’all.

The last ten miles of the ride features a regain of 300 of the 600 miles from the first ten miles as we returned to the finish at the caboose. I struggled to maintain 12 miles per hour along this stretch but made it to the end in decent shape. I expected to take at least 6 hours to do the ride but finished in 5 1/2 which included about 30 or 40 minutes at the pit stops and here and there along the road.

All in all I am pleased with how The Tank and I performed. I was pretty tired last night but I did a 30 mile recovery ride today and lived to tell this tale.

Big thanks to the organizers, volunteers, and local law enforcement folks who made for a well run event.

Next up, the Washington Area Bicyclists Association Cider Ride in two weeks.

And a Final Note: during the first Cider Ride I helped an exhausted college student find her way over the last five or so miles to the finish line. Her name is Katie. The other day Katie put her bike on an Amtrak train and headed to New York City to do the NYC 100 mile ride. Yesterday she parked and locked her bike, went into a restaurant and had brunch. While she was inside, a fire truck ran over her bike. Dead bike! Ugh. She filed a police report in the hopes that FDNY will pay for the bike. Fingers crossed. She planned to find a rental bike and do the ride. Good luck, Katie!

Blue Skies, Zero Day: I’ve been going at the bicycle thing pretty hard lately. I’ve ridden all but two days in the last four weeks. Not surprisingly, yesterday’s ride was an unpleasant slog. Lifting weights for a half hour in the middle of it didn’t help. So despite it being an awesome day with perfect blue skies, I am taking a zero day today. This should recharge my batteries for the 65-mile Great Pumpkin Ride on Saturday.

Steed of Choice?: Last year, I rode the hilly Great Pumpkin Ride on Big Nellie, my long wheel base recumbent. Everything was going fine until, during the second half of the ride, the bike started misbehaving every time I shifted. With about 15 miles to go, I figured out what was wrong: my rear axle had come loose. I’d shift and the wheel would start to inch forward in the drop out. It felt like I was riding on an oval wheel. It took me a while to diagnose the problem which made for a stressful day. In any case, I fixed it with about 15 miles to go and all was right with the world.

I was planning on riding Big Nellie again this year but I stumbled into an alternative that I am interested in trying out. About a week ago, my friend Beth fell while commuting (she’s fine). The wooden bridges on the trails around here are slick when they get wet. Big Nellie with its lightweight front end, is prone to these kinds of crashes so I started riding The Tank, my Surly CrossCheck. In addition to being wet, it was cold so I switched to warmer footwear, my low rise Vasque hiking shoes. As it turns out, they are not only warmer but also much stiffer in the soles, giving me an unexpected speed boost. So despite the fact that the CrossCheck is a lousy bike for climbing (it’s heavy and lacks a granny gear), I’m going to ride it on Saturday.

Friday Sunrise Club: It may be getting colder but (until last week) my rides to Friday Coffee Club featured some sweet sunrises over the Potomac River at Dyke Marsh on the Mount Vernon Trail. I’ll get a few more after daylight savings time ends before the dark days of winter descend.

Decorating for the Season: Halloween is approaching. Northern Virginians go bananas with decorations this time of year. Maybe even more than at Christmas. The owners of this townhouse didn’t even need a yard.

Dealing with Dogs: Ever since encountering dogs for a week on a bike tour in Appalachia a couple of years ago, I’ve had dog attacks on my mind. Fortunately, they are rare around my neck of the woods. Not so in rural Texas. I have been watching videos of bike rider down there who has gravitated to using bear spray. He initially tried using a trekking pole ( he’s an amputee) then an air horn but nothing works as well as bear spray. No need for accuracy either; just leave a small cloud of the stuff in your wake and dogs loose interest in the chase.