After a leisurely breakfast I packed my bike and nearly crippled it by getting the rear wheel all messed up with my cargo net. Ten minutes of cussing later, I base farewell to Mrs. Rootchopper and ride off to points north and west.
About five miles into the ride it occurred to me that I had failed to pack and important doodad, my Fiber Fix spoke. It’s a Kevlar cord that can replace a broken spoke, no tools required. So if I break a spoke I’m screwed. Yeah well….
I also forgot to pack a master link for my chain. This makes putting a broken chain together much easier. (Not that I’ve ever done it.)
I suppose I can stop at a bike shop and pick at least one of these items up.
The first 31 miles were a combination of my old bike commute and the old Vasa ride route to Potomac Maryland. A tailwind made the ride up the Mount Vernon Trail to DC a piece of cake.
I made my way along the river and under the Whitehurst Freeway. I passed a restaurant named Mate Sushi and thought of my Argentinian friend who is nuts about both mate and sushi. I carried on to the Capital Crescent Trail and ever so briefly on the C&O Canal towpath. As expected it was quite muddy. I thought about riding it but then decided to climb up to MacArthur Boulevard and use the roads.
I was dreading this short steep climb but it wasn’t so bad. My granny gear got its first of many uses today.
The rest of the ride to The kayakers put in near Old Anglers Inn was routine. I’ve done this ride scores of times.
I took a potty break. The restrooms have a covered sidewalk in front. When I came out, The Mule was dry as rain started to fall. Then skies opened up. I pulled out my bag of trail mix and munched a few handfuls. I can wait…..
The rain abated and I started the mile long climb to the top of Great Falls Park. Granny helped. The rains returned. My rain jacket and the physical effort were keeping me warm if not completely dry.
A left on River Road brought me to miles of big rolling hills. Big gear. Granny gear. Repeat.
I turned into Partnership Road and things got all kinds of farmy. Moo. Grain. Mud.
At Poolesville I stopped for lunch in the Watershed Cafe. I had a “veggie” sandwich (it had cheese in it) and some panther piss. ‘Twas yummy.
I asked the Google to plot a course for Frederick Maryland and so it did. The Google is good like that.
More farms and a few cute towns. I counted three purple houses. What’s up with that? Somehow the ride seemed downhill for miles and miles. And the route cleverly avoided Sugarloaf Mountain. My knees and back were pleased.
Now it was just a race against the rain. The skies grew darker as I rolled through funky Buckeystown.
I rode past English Muffin Road where Bimbo’s Bakery (I am not making this up) makes the nooks and crannies. I’d actually been to this area on a business trip a year or two ago.
I started seeking hotels but continued on playing chicken with the approaching storm. As raindrops started falling an Econolodge appeared.
As I rolled my bike into my room thunder roared from the dark clouds above. Timing is everything.
So I’m content with shelter, TV (I hope they have the Nats game), WiFi, and a Sheetz next door for fine dining.
68 miles down. 3,900 or so to go.