Category: Mount Vernon Trail

The No Squish Bike Commute

It’s astonishing how much more comfortable bike commuting can be when your boots are not filled wit24309316603_3da4d74d9c_mh ice cold Potomac River water.

And so today’s bike commute into a cold headwind was rather nice. I stopped for a sunrise picture made less risey by the fact that I left late and the sun is coming up earlier.

The wooden bridges on the Mount Vernon Trail had a slight coating of ice, which is to be expected when it is near freezing. It turns out those road signs are right: bridges do freeze before roadways. Who knew?

I know of one person who knows. The worst of the ice was on the Trollheim, the boardwalk beneath the Teddy Roosevelt Bridge about 1/2 mile from my office. Legend has it that a troll lives beneath the boardwalk and, on cold or wet days, the troll reaches up and grabs bike commuters causing them to crash. I was making my way gingerly across the icy boards when I spotted a big smush mark in the ever so thin dusting of snow on top of the boards to my left. This is a sure sign that a bike went down.

The ride home was a blustery affair. I had a tailwind most of the way. Every so often the wind would abruptly change direction and slap me upside the face. Wake up, dude! I even caught a 20 mile per hour gust broadside that nearly knock me off the trail.

Tomorrow I work from home so I will miss out on one of the COLDEST DAYS OF THE YEAR!!! Actually by the standards of where I lived for the first 28 years of my life, these “brutally cold” days are pretty much the winter norm. Everything is relative. Except ice cold river water in your shoes, of course. That absolutely sucks.

 

I Think I’m Going to Need a Bigger Boat

Just before the Flood
The MVT near Dyke Marsh
Old Town near King and Union
The MVT bear Washington Marina

I was planning on driving to work today. The forecast as of last night called for 1 – 3 inches of snow today. When I went outside to get the paper this morning, I found that it was above freezing and that a very light rain was falling.

I checked the forecast. We might get a dusting. No big deal. Time to ride.

The first three miles went rather swimmingly. Literally speaking that is. The rain had stopped. I pulled over to take a picture of the lack of sunrise over Dyke Marsh. Then I was back on the bike happy to see that the long boardwalk was free of ice.

As I left the boardwalk I could see that the trail was underwater. Typically this means that there is an inch of water from the river covering the trail. Today wasn’t typical. Snow melt, rain upstream, and a high tide caused the river to flood. The next mile went swimmingly literally.

I pedaled into the water and soon realized that it was well over my pedals. Water was flowing into my GoreTex hiking boots. In case you were wondering, Potomac River water is mighty cold in February. My feet almost immediately started going numb. I slowed my pedaling only to realize that walking was not a viable option. The water kept getting deeper.

Pedal, pedal!

This went on for anout 100 yards with a short break during which my wool socks did their thing and my feet came to life again. Then it was back into the pool.

Holy crap. Or maybe holy carp.

After another minute of soaking my feet and my just lubed chain I emerged from the icy liquid. Still more water covered the trail but this time I decided to take the high road.

I rode through the grass next to the Parkway envying the drivers on the dry pavement to my left. The grass was long and very wet so each yard of progress was hard work. I finally cleared the flood and got back on the trail.

I have been riding the trail since 1984. To my eyes, the river is now much closer to the trail than when I first rode it. About 10 years ago, a section north of Slaters Lane was moved 30 yards away from the river because of chronic flooding. Today’s flood was much worse than those floods.

My feet seemed to warm up again. I had to take an alley to avoid the flooding at the foot of King Street. I could hear pumps working to clear the water from businesses along Union Street.

Near Washington Marina, another section of the trail was under deep water. This time I took the grass route. This grass was even taller than the grass I had ridden on earlier. The Mule was not amused but slogged on through.

By the time I reached the Memorial Bridge, the cold river water was making my feet numb again. I made my way up the hill to Rosslyn and dismounted in the office garage. I fell against a wall. I could not feel my feet or ankles.

During my lunch break I began furiously looking for insulated scuba gear for the ride home. Alas, there was none to be found. Fortunately I didn’t need it. The trail was mostly dry with some pockets of flood-related debris.

I did see a car almost run over a pedestrian in the Intersection of Doom. The car was blocking the crosswalk which leads to the curb cut to get onto the Mount Vernon Trail connector. I need to use the curb cut. I caught the driver’s eye and waved at her to back up since there was no one behind her. Instead of backing up she inched forward as if to make a right on red with me approaching from her left and an unseen pedestrian stepping in front of her on her right. She stopped short just before hitting the pedestrian. I yelled at her to move back as I passed. She looked utterly bewildered. Driving this car is so confusing.

The remaining 14 1/2 miles went fine. My insoles were still filled with water so there was much squishing.

The slight tailwind made up for that.

If you think I regretted my decision to ride to work today, you’d be wrong. Biking to work isn’t always just a commute, sometimes it’s an adventure.

 

It’s a Wonderful Cake

The day began with a bike commute into DC for Friday Coffee Club. Today we celebrated its fourth anniversary.  The founding members were three randonneurs Ed (a.k.a. Felkerino, Mr. Mary) and Mary (a.k.a. Coffeeneur, Gypsybug, Mrs. Ed), and Lane (currently in an undisclosed location), along with Brian (DBA Gear Prudence), and Lisa (with whom I’ve done many, many rides). I knew Ed and Mary through Flickr but Mary got me onto Twitter and from there to Friday Coffee Club sometime in late winter/early spring of 2012.

Swings House of Caffeine (at 17th and G Streets NW) is the scene of the crime. On Fridays the place is packed with bike commuters. The promise of cake made for a big turnout today. I had a cake biopsy as Ed was conserving the remnants of the once mighty cake for late arrivals. I suppose we can call this Felkerino’s birthday cake dichotomy.

I didn’t get to talk to half the people there including a newcomer. I am getting worse and worse at greeting newcomers which is disappointing. When I first started to go, I fought my introversion and made it a point to introduce myself.  Probably doesn’t matter; I’d forget their name anyway.

Late last night I was invited to a happy hour that began at 4:30 on Capitol Hill. Too early for me. Around noon, I was invited to another happy hour at 5:30 in Northeast. (Can’t we spread all this socializing out a bit people?) I really wanted to go to this one to congratulate a friend, who I will call Clarence. Clarence recently passed an important professional exam. The idea of riding across town at rush hour, then hanging out in the city and then riding 15 miles home in the cold and dark was not appealing. I thought I could ride home, grab dinner, then drive into the city, but I left work late, totally screwing up the timing. So I made my apologies to Clarence. She told me to have a safe ride home.

(On the way home two things happened that were disturbing. First, I passed workers setting up a boom to contain oil that had been spilled somehow into the Potom24840585465_66664cdc2d_mac River It’s a mystery how the spill occurred but it is already affecting waterfowl. About eight miles later on a dark section of the trail I nearly took out a ninja. The man was walking toward me on the left side of the trail, my side. He appeared in the edges of my headlight’s circle of light. I went to pass on the left, he stepped left. I went right. He went right. I nearly stopped as he hopped off the trail. “Excuse me,” he said without a hint of sarcasm. I stifled a “What the fuck are your DOING?!!!” and continued on my way. Damned good thing I didn’t have anything to drink.)

I owe you one, Clarence. (Again.) Maybe a mulled wine, heavy on the cinnamon and light on the cloves.

So proud of you.

 

 

 

 

 

Inlandia

Another day, another icy mess on the Mount Vernon Trail. Thanks National Park Service. You’re swell.

I left a few minutes late. It was light out. We’re SAVED!!!!

The first 30 minutes of my ride home were also in daylight. Thank you Copernicus.

The trail is actually getting clearer by the day but since I fell on one of the wooden bridges last winter, there’s no way I am going to use it until someone I trust says they are clear. This does not include Big Ed who I am convinced will ride on a skating rink if you give him the opportunity.

So today I took the inland route again. Two things became apparent. Yesterday’s commute benefited from an uncanny ability to hit green lights. Today’s not so much. And, riding in the grit on the side of the road will turn your chain into a crunchy mess.

Every time I tried to put some effort into pedaling I heard this awful crunchy sound. I was expecting my chain to break. Of course, the reason all this crap is on the edge of the road is because cars are equipped with grit repellent.  It’s true. You could look it up.

When I got home I cleaned my chain. I was surprised at how quickly the grit came off. Still I think a few more weeks of this stuff will grind my drivetrain to bits. The Mule was due for a new chain and cassette anyway.

I do miss my river views but I am enjoying the Potomac Yard Trail. The cars on the adjacent road have stop signs and traffic lights. The trail doesn’t. Sucks for you drivers.

Also, I get to bypass all those cars lined up at red lights and stop signs. Excuse me. Sorry. Pardon me. Coming through.

I haven’t seen many bike commuters on this route. There was a guy tonight on a Trek 1200 (I think). He was faster than me so I only got a glimpse of him. I saw a woman commuter coming and going. She was the real deal. Could have robbed a bank on her way home. I have no idea what she looks like.

On my way to work I have to climb the hill going to Fort Myer. This is not nice. It goes up, then down, then up again. On the way home I get to do the two hills on Fort Hunt Road. By the time I crest the second one, my legs are not happy.

Tomorrow is a toss up. It’s supposed to rain all day. I could work from home if it’s too unpleasant. My legs could use the rest. I don’t like working from home. I miss my commute.

 

Workday (Frown)

The party is over. I went to the office today. Before I left I got in one more short snow shoveling session. I needed 15 minutes to clear away the snow that an overnight plow had put in the way of Mrs. RC’s car. Overnight plows are sneaky. We should set traps for them. (Would it roar or squeal when the trap snapped shut? We may never know.)

The drive to and from work was a breeze. With every school shut and the rest of the federal government closed, the roads were all mine. Most of them were anyway. About 1/3rd of the usable road space was either unplowed or occupied by massive piles of plowed snow. It looked like most of the sidewalks in Old Town were unplowed. And nearly every crosswalk was obstructed by mass quantities of plowage.  Smallish people were actually being given a hand up to get over the snowbank in front of my office building.

I grew up in Albany and lived in Boston and Providence. I am used to this sort of thing. It’s one of the many reasons I moved south. When you have to go to work, snowstorms in the city are a pain in the ass. They are a blast on snowdays though. Except when the snowdays last over a week. This happened when I lived in Boston in 1978. Cabin fever can drive you mad. My friends say this explains a lot about me.

Nowadays many people can telework but back in the days of computer punch cards this was not an option.  A friend of mine recently moved to DC. She was scheduled to start a new job on Monday. I felt bad for her but she told me that her new employer let her telework. On her first day. Dang.

The weather has kept her from moving to her new apartment though. She freelances as a certified massage therapist.  Too bad she can’t get around town. She could make a fortune giving massages to snow shovelers like me.

Just two days after the snow stopped falling, temperatures rose into the 50s. When I got home, the snow cover was about one foot lower than yesterday. It looked like someone had pulled the plug and let the air out of a big white air mattress.

I will continue to drive to work for the time being. The main reason is that the National Park Service refuses to plow and treat the Mount Vernon Trail. I don’t blame them. They are part of the Interior Department and starved for funds. It’s funny how the Park Service does an excellent job of clearing storm debris after big non-winter storms, but punts when it snows.

This shortcoming of the Park Service has enraged Lizbon Gravity, who is apparently new to commuting on the MVT. She recently started following me on Twitter. Good luck LG, whoever you are.  Oh, and by the way, if you follow me, you’ll probably get lost. But, as Lewis Carroll once said, if you don’t know where you’re going, any road will take you there.

Riding to Daylight

I hadn’t ridden to work since Friday. So today’s bike commute, four days later, had a nice surprise: daylight! We had 6 minutes more daylight today than Frida23872236113_82eb6ba061_zy. On a bike you are more in touch with your surroundings so you notice these sorts of things.  I stopped on the Dyke Marsh boardwalk just before sunrise for a picture. I wonder if it is coincidence that the Spanish word for smile is sonrisa? Sunrise is the first smile of the day.

 

I used chemical hand warmers in my shoes today. The left one must have slipped to the rear because the toes on my left foot were frozen when I arrived at the office. When I jumped in the shower, the toes screamed with pain. Yet another reason why I don’t miss living up north.

People think I am crazy for riding to work on a day like today. Maybe I am but I consider these kinds of bike commutes an adventure. Is it crazy to start the day with an adventure or with a frustrating drive in bumper to bumper traffic? If you live in the moment, choose the moment that gives you a few minutes of happiness. Even if your toes freeze.

It felt like it was 10 degrees warmer for the ride home. I certainly appreciated the daylight for the first few miles. I was greeted by a snow squall for the last 6 miles of the commute. The snow was reflecting my headlight back into my eyes. I was riding blind. At one point my rear tire skidded after hitting a gum ball (not the candy, the seed ball from a gum tree). I remembered Bri’s advice to keep my upper body loose and go with it. The snow started sticking. It was getting slippery. Stay loose. I made it home without any more skidding. I had fun but I suspect this thin layer of snow will turn to ice overnight. This will mean no biking to work for me.

The current weather forecast calls for up to two feet of snow for Friday and Saturday. With any kind of luck it will be melted in a few days. I will probably be off the bike for a week afterwards because the National Park Service doesn’t plow the Mount Vernon Trail.

 

 

 

Cold Monday, Big Rides

Winter came back. I thought we had this thing licked. Apparently not.

I chose to ride Big Nellie to work. I haven’t ridden the Big one to work in many months. I left early. It was dark. And cold. No worries. I just pedaled my ass off until I warmed up.

I was pleased that the wooden bridges had no frost on them. The whole way to DC.

On the asphalt north of the Memorial Bridge black ice coated the trail in a few spots. No guts, no glory. I rode straight across the ice. Each section was maybe 10 feet long.

At work I parked Big Nellie next to my boss’s Yuba Mundo. That was a lot of bikeage.

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Having ridden to work early I was looking forward to riding home in the daylight. Alas, work ran long and I left after dark. I’ll get even with the daylight gods soon. In about a month or two. Just wait.

It was about 10 degrees warmer for the ride home. No black ice. Just a shocking number of bike commuters. Go #bikedc!!!!

 

It’s January? Go Figure.

It was 50 degrees at 7 am. On January 10. Go figure.

I decided to take Big Nellie for a spin. I got side tracked by bike maintenance. It’s hard to do bike maintenance when it is cold outside. So I cleaned and lubed the chains on three of my four bikes. It’s a bit like getting your teeth cleaned at the dentists. The chains are all shiny now.

Big Nellie was very patient. Off we rode to the Mount Vernon Trail. By this time it was about 60 degrees and windy. There were serious waves on the river. I spotted a guy in a wet suit leaning against his car to my left. To my right was his sailboard. Dude, it’s January.

As I approached Fort Hunt Park I spotted a man with a fully loaded bicycle at the water fountain along the trail. (It’s January 10 and they haven’t turned off the water yet? Go figure.)

Ivan is from China. His English is perfect so we had a pretty extensive conversation. He’s been riding across the US for the last 12 months. He started in Washington State then rode through Oregon, Idaho, Utah,….,the Katy Trail in Missouri. I’d have remembered all the places he has ridden but I was thinkin24215142381_fd843fc327_zg about how much cold weather this dude has been riding in. Dang. He said he did 30 – 35 miles on short days and 60 – 65 on long days.  I suppose he’s had lots of practice. He’s staying with a friend in Arlington, selling his bike, going to Boston then back home to China. If you want a fully equipped Chinese touring bike, keep you eyes open. The model is, I kid you not, “World Traveler.” After trying out the seat of Big Nellie, Ivan headed off toward DC. Nice guy.

I did a lap around Fort Hunt Park. There were all kinds of bicyclists and a tadpole trike rider doing laps. I peeled off and headed for Old Town. I made it back to the MVT and, sure enough, passed Ivan who was getting a MAMIL escort.

I rode up Union Street to make sure that Ivan wasn’t going to get harassed by the Alexandria police. They were not having a bicycle stop sign stake out so I kept rolling to the north.

At Four Mile Run I headed over to Arlandria and from there back toward home.

The wind was in my face but it didn’t much matter. When I got back to the MVT, I was passed by a faired recumbent with a body sock. It looked something like this.  It went by me like I was standing still.

It started to rain so I headed home.

So ended  a 150-mile week to open the new year.

Go figure.

 

 

A Year Well Ridden

For a guy who spent three weeks on a bike-free vacation and the better part of the winter waiting for a thaw, I rode a whole bunch in 2015.

For the year I clocked 7,518.5 miles. Nearly two thirds of this total was from riding my bikes to work 162 times. Pro tip: if you want to boost your annual miles, get a job farther from home. The remaining 2,601 miles was on various weekend and bike touring excursions. The No Wrong Plan Bike Tour was about 370 miles including riding to the shuttle at the start and riding home on Bike to Work Day at the finish.

The tour made May my biggest mileage month at 951. September, usually a big month, was my lowest mileage month at only 296.5 miles. I spent nearly three weeks on vacation and didn’t touch a bike despite the fact that I could have laid claim to riding in Asia and Australia and New Zealand. Oh, well.

The Mule, my oldest bike, got the most use, 3,342 miles, including exactly half of my bike commutes. The least mileage went to my new bike, a Surly Cross Check, at 1,000 miles. Of course, I only had this bike for four and half months. None of these miles was from commuting.

I rode indoors on Big Nellie, my Tour Easy recumbent six times for the equivalent of 99 miles. Otherwise, Big Nellie fell into disuse. I rode it only 86 miles since August. Over the course of the year, I rode it to work 25 times. Its total mileage for the year was 1,289.

Little Nellie got much more use than I expected. It is a Bike Friday folding travel bike but I didn’t travel with it. Instead I just rode it a lot locally. I did 56 rides to work and 1,887.5 miles overall. Being able to stash it in the trunk of the car came in handy many, many times.

My longest ride of the year was exactly 100 miles from my house to Whites Ferry and back on Big Nellie. The second longest ride of the year was the 18 mile ride home from the Tour de Fat event. I find riding a bike after a beer or two not to be problematic. Riding a bike after drinking beer in the hot sun for five hours, is considerably more challenging. Next year I will volunteer so as to remain sane. (Of course, I say this every year and rarely get around to volunteering. Bows his head in shame…) Another rather long bike ride was my bike commute the day after returning from Thailand. I was jet lagged out of my mind. It was not a lot of fun.

Other than the tour, the rides I liked best usually involved baseball games at Nats Park. The Nationals’ bike valet service is just about the best thing going.  Every ballpark, major or minor league, should do this.  A couple of times I had the pleasure of riding with Katie Lee to the Capitol and watching her do a victory lap – riding around in circles, hands free, head back, with an ear-to-ear smile. Pure bike joy. And then there’s always the fun of a ride home after a night game. I love riding home in the dark on a warm summer night.

The last ride home on the bike tour on the C&O Canal was special. Ryan intercepted us on his way to Brunswick. Then Rudy gave us a full escort from Great Falls. Near Fletcher’s Boat House, Mary came out to escort us. Somewhere along the line Chris showed up. We rode to Glen’s near Dupont Circle for a celebration where we were joined by even more #bikedc friends. I was escorted on my ride home against the Bike to Work Day flow on the 15th Street cycletrack and down the Mount Vernon Trail  by Mount Vernon resident Ed. This day was in stark contrast to the last day of my other tours when I was greeted with a ho-hum from non-biking relatives. (This is why I made it a point to meet Linel in Belle Haven Park at the end of her C&O Canal tow this year.)

I don’t recall how many times I rode to Friday Coffee Club, but it’s a thing and it’s fun.

I went to several bike events: WABA’s Vasa and Cider rides and holiday bash, the Great Pumpkin ride, the Tour de Fat, the kinetic sculpture race in Baltimore, the Cookie ride, and the #biketivismdc protest on Pennsylvania Avenue.

I hiked a bunch too. I honestly can’t say which trail was my favorite. They all have their distinct characteristics. I learned that I don’t much care for rock scrambles or crossing steams on slippery logs. In my running days I was a pretty darn good downhill runner. I am a pretty lousy downhill hiker.

I am not much of a massage fan but I had three massages this year. The last and only other time I had a massage was after a century in 1991. I liked the oil massage in Thailand the best. It was outdoors under a shelter in the rain. The next best was a Thai massage from a friend in McLean Virginia. This was relaxing and nothing like any of the other massages I’ve had. The reiki at the end was also pretty cool. The sports massage I had near my home was rather vigorous. I was sore for days afterward. I am still not much of a massage fan. I’m just not into pampering, I guess.

Enough with looking back already. It’s 2016. Let’s get on with it!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ride Hills and Chew Grape

I normally sell some of my leave back to my employer. It’s a good benefit for sure but this year I decided to use it all. I thought I had it all planned out. One week off for my tour. A few days here and there for hikes and baseball games. Then a bunch of time off for my once-in-a-lifetime vacation in Australia/New Zealand/Thailand.

Somehow I ended up with 40 hours of vacation time. So I took a day off last week and took this week off.

Since Mrs. RC has to work (her biggest annual deadline is tomorrow), I am staycationing. The holidays and rain have conspired to keep me off my bike for several days so yesterday and today I got the Cross Check out on the neighborhood streets.

I live near Mount Vernon next to a horse farm. Sounds kind of nice doesn’t it? Well, I live closer to US 1 than the Potomac River and the horse farm is a mud pit and a dump (literally, they seem to dump old equipment along the farm’s perimeter).

One nice thing about it is that there are five traffic lights between my house and the Beltway, a distance of about five or six miles. Most of the streets are quiet neighborhood streets. If I want more I need only ride down past Mount Vernon where there are many more miles of suburban streets with only two traffic lights. And for the hell of it I can ride 1 1/4 mile loops in Fort Hunt Park.

So I took advantage, paying special attention to climb some hills, something I avoid with great dedication. Yesterday’s jaunt included riding up to Oxon Hill Road from the Wilson Bridge. This is a mile-long slog but the ride back down is pretty sweet.  I also picked off the Park Terrace Drive hill, which I once used daily to prepare for a tour. The rest of the hills were not too hard.

Today’s ride featured the Regent Drive Hill which climbs above the Park Terrace Drive hill. Most cyclists just avoid this one because its more bad. Another fun hill that I typically avoid is Belle View Boulevard which climbs Beacon Hill. Not today. I rode up that sucker.

In between bouts of cycling masochism, I rode some flat-ish streets. One of them is East Boulevard Drive which runs on the opposite side of the GW Parkway from the Mount Vernon Trail. Today I saw a giant construction machine chewing up a house. It was a big house. If it were in good shape it would sell for nearly $1 million. Whoever bought it decided that some new monstrosity would better suit its massive lot.

In Old Town I spent five minutes taking pictures of polar bears in a tree and this faded sign on a brick wall. I love these old signs. I recall one from my childhood for the soft drink Moxie on the side of brick building in my father’s home town.  I also like Mail Pouch tobacco signs on barns in the Midwest. They almost make you wish tobacco was as tasty as chocolate.

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So Chew Grape. It’s good for what ails you.