With my recent injury almost healed, I have been itching to get out on my bike for a long-ish ride.  That would be something longer than the 29 mile round trip to the office.  I decided to go check out my friend Charmaine’s new house in Hyattsville.  The house is actually quite old but she just bought it.

Big Nellie, my Tour Easy recumbent and ride du jour, got the call.  I rode to the Mount Vernon Trail and headed north.  I stopped at the Morningside bald eagle nest to see if I could spot some eaglets.  Unfortunately, the new foliage on the tree makes the nest hard to see so I had no luck.

The weather was gorgeous, high 60s with a light breeze, a tailwind for the start of the ride.  In addition to making the riding much easier, the tailwind was helping me get my bent legs.  When you ride a recumbent, you use your leg muscles in a slightly different way than on a conventional bike.  When I finish a ride my thigh muscles aren’t sore but my hamstrings are tired.  It’s similar to how my legs used to feel after a long run (lord, I still miss running after 25 years!).

Rather than fight the throngs of people on the MVT all the way to DC, I took the Beltway over to Maryland.  The Woodrow Wilson Bridge has a wide trail on its upriver side.  Bump outs along the trail allow you to check out a pretty darn nice panoramic view of the city.  (It’s also a pretty cool place to watch the Alexandria fireworks which take place one week after Independence Day.)  The riding on the bridge trail leaves something to be desired.  There are massive expansion joints that give you a good jolt when you ride over them.  Once your reach the crest of the bridge there are no more joints until you get to the Maryland side of the river.  The trail takes you up across the Beltway and then down in a spiral (quite fun to take at speed) and a long downhill back to the river near National Harbor.

I turned off before National Harbor to take the 0.8 mile (so said a sign) climb to Oxon Hill Road.  This is an honest climb and you will feel you’ve paid your dues when you get to the top.  A left on Oxon Hill Road and another left on Bald Eagle Road put me into Oxon Hill Farm. I followed the trail signs and made my way down the bumpy but paved trail through Oxon Hill Cove Park. I feathered my brakes in the hopes of seeing a deer but there were none visible.  Even with the braking I easily passed 30 miles per hour.  On downhills, riding Big Nellie is like street luge.

I followed the trail to DC Village, a rather depressing enclave of drab buildings enclosed with fences topped with barbed wire.  Normally, I ride right up a hill to Martin Luther King Boulevard, but I read that you could ride along the flat land next to Bolling Air Force Base.  That worked for a mile or two but then the nice young guard at the base gate told me that people without a sponsor can’t cut through the base. I climbed up Chesapeake Street to Second Street which dumped me out at the intersection of South Capitol Street and MLK Boulevard.  I toyed with the idea of riding down South Capitol to Anacostia Park but decided to check out the street vibe on MLK. After passing Saint Elizabeth’s Hospital complex (I didn’t see John Hinkley despite my cries of “Jodie, Jodie, Jodie.”) I started to see some happy faces. All the way up MLK, people I passed said “Hello” and “Nice bike.”  A motorcycle cop was eyeing the bike with a smirk to which I replied “Great gas mileage.”  He laughed.  I passed some old folk sitting on the front porch playing electric violin and conga drums.  They were excellent!

I cut over to Anacostia Park at Good Hope Road where I could see the brand new bridges coming from the west side of the river. This whole area is going to be transformed when the bridges open. Let’s hope it brings some jobs with it.

As usual the park was hopping with all kinds of team sports. I think some where playing flag football but they hadn’t started. I planned on riding north to Benning Road but the trail dies north of Pennsylvania Avenue, so I backtracked and rode over the Anacostia on Pernnsylvania.  I had the sidewalk to myself, blue water below.  Once off the bridge I became confused. For some reason I thought I was in Northeast DC when I was still in Southeast.  I rode toward the Capitol to get my bearings. I was looking to take 13th Street North. After a dozen red lights (must not kill!) I finally cleared the confluence of diagonal streets on Capitol Hill and started making some progress. Pedal, pedal. Through scenic (not) Brentwood.  Finally I came to Varnum Street and headed east. Except Varnum Street doesn’t go very far.  A left and a right and soon I was on Michigan Avenue, not the best cycling street around.

Once across Eastern Avenue I entered beautiful downtown West Hyattsville. Nothing to see here, mister, move along. I spotted a Checkers burger joint with a line that looked like it went out the door. I later realized that there was no door. The customers were standing at a walk up window. Very Southern California, if you ask me. Michigan was now Queens Chapel Road, just to be difficult, I suppose.

I looked for a place to buy a housewarming present but I was in car hell and the thought of stopping was unappealing. I took a right turn and there was a nondescript supermarket. All the customers were hispanic.  One old man sitting outside the store looked at my bike and asked with a smile, “Where’s the engine?”  I pointed to my legs and said, “That’s the engine!”  He laughed.

Sure enough the place was filled with unfamiliar brands with Spanish labels. And everything was in bulk. Hmm.  Maybe I can get her a huge bundle of these corn husk things; I’m sure she’ll like them.  Wandering around I found a florist shop of sorts in the back and picked up a couple of lilies that looked like they’d fit in my pannier.  I grabbed a can of soda and a candy bar for the engine off I went.

Her house was 100 yards down the street on a corner. I could tell because she showed me a picture of her front porch with a nice swing on it.

There was an SUV in the driverway, which meant that somebody other than her – she’s car-free – was home. After ringing and knocking her tenant came to the door and let me in. She wasn’t home.  So I left the lilies on the counter in the kitchen with a note and headed out.

I backtracked up Queens Chapel and Michigan in heavy traffic – no fun.  At Catholic University I jumped on the Metropolitan Branch Trail for about a block until it dead ended at some construction. Argh!  After a few blocks on some mercifully calm side streets I picked up the MBT and flew straight to Capitol Hill. I stopped to take a picture of the Washington Coliseum, once known as the Uline Arena.  It’s primary claim to fame being the site of the very first Beatle concert in America (before their appearance on Ed Sullivan).  They played in the round.  After every couple of songs. They pointed their amps and Ringo’s drum kit in a different direction. A far cry from concerts these days.

The Old Washington Coliseum – History Happened Here

I crossed Capitol Hill and eventually found myself on Maine Avenue. The sidewalk is now designated as a trail but getting to it was pretty insane. The Fish Market draws huge crowds on nice days. I don’t know about you but when the sun is shining and the breeze is blowing the first thing I think of is shellfish. (I hate shellfish.)

In no time I was back in Virginia weaving around all the fair weather trail users.  I stopped to watch some planes land and to drink my soda and eat my candy bar.  Then it was a straight 11 mile shot to home.  The crowds were thinner south of the airport and I made pretty good time even into a headwind.  I stopped again to check out the Morningside nest. No luck this time either.

It was such I nice day I decided to tack on a mile or two before going home.  Most of the Fort Hunt area is pool table flat so this was a nice way to unwind. I arrived at home with 50.5 miles on the odometer. Thanks to my recumbent my body felt fine.

I grabbed a drink, the newspaper, and some pretzels and nuts and headed for my new deck.  Feet up, sun shining, I fell asleep like a contented cat only to be awakened by the laughter of my teenage daughter and her friends.  She’s 17 today.  We had Boston Cream Pie instead of cake. Way better than shellfish, if you ask me.

Today marks the one year anniversary of this exciting blog. I had been writing long emails to my friend Charmaine about my daily bicycling misadventures.  She like them and suggested I start a blog. So if you’ve wasted parts of several perfectly good evenings reading my stuff, blame her. The original intent was for it to be only about my bicycling life.  As it turns out, several of my posts have had little or nothing to do with cycling.  One very popular one, had to do with acroyoga. A year ago I didn’t know what acroyoga was, but my friend Florencia set me straight.  (Funny how I met both Charmaine and Florencia on 50 States rides.)  Now I know that it would be a really quick way to hurt myself.  (Not that I need any help with that.)

Several other posts had to do with my wife’s medical follies. First, she had a thunderclap headache. I got to ride shot gun in an ambulance (with the accent on the last syllable, because this is DC), but other than that it was an incredibly miserable experience, particularly for Mrs. Rootchopper.  If you really want to see the underbelly of the national health care system in this country, hang out in the emergency room of an urban hospital. Cops with wounded perps, morbidly obese people, disoriented men from skid row, flat out crazy people, and lots of people lying around in a disheveled state moaning in pain.  Anyway, this was how my wife enjoyed her last birthday.  Tomorrow, we hope to do a little better by her.

About a month later, you all got to read about her being run over by an SUV. Weeks and weeks of pain and suffering followed. You just couldn’t get enough.  She’s still being treated for her injuries. She’d be real happy if her knees and ankles worked right.

Turning to biking, the blog post with the most hits described how I rode my bike into the back of a parked car. I know you all like a good laugh but come on people!  All you want is pain, misery, and humiliation (mine!).  I was told that there were a bunch of sick folks roaming the interwebs and many of them appear to be reading my blog.

One weird thing about this blog is the geographic origins of its readers. Of course, most people access the blog from the United States.  In second place comes Russia!  If this keeps up, I may have to switch fonts to cyrillic.  I don’t know anybody in Russia so this an unexpected development.  The UK comes in third, mostly because they never get sick of yanks who make a fool of themselves. Fourth place goes to Germany.   The also rans are Canada, Brazil, France, Australia, the Czech Republic (hi, Steve!), the Netherlands, India (hi Chelli), Malaysia, Thailand (hi, Flor), Norway and Iraq.

It took quite a while for my blog to be discovered.  More than half the hits on this blog have come since 2012 began. Many of those hits are from people checking out the earlier blog posts.

Since I started this blog, I ‘ve ridden 6,858 miles and commuted to work 133 times.  The commutes alon account for over 3,800 miles.  How do I know?  I’ve been keeping a hard copy riding or running diary for about 30 years. 

I’ve crashed twice, both times on my recumbent.

Some how I have managed to actually gain a little weight in that time. Could it be that cookies and milk while blogging is a bad idea? Who knew!?

What I need is a long bike tour. My son goes to college in Saratoga.Springs NY, so Saratoga to DC is way up there on my to do list. My daughter wants to go to school farther away.  If she lands in California, I’d have the perfect excuse to do a cross country ride. 

While I dream I’ll continue to ride my bike to work like a two-wheeled Chaumcey Gardener.  I like to ride my bike.

For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been hobbling around all grumpy as the result of a nasty little crash on the way home from work. When I woke up my leg was feeling quite a bit better.  This may be the result of lots of rest or it could be the beneficial effects of the two margaritas I had at the South Austin Grill last night.  I will have to do.future research. 

And so I decided to go for an easy ride on this beautiful Easter.  If I felt okay, I’d do 40 miles. So riding Big Nellie and wearing my Skidmore College sweatshirt (easily the most expensive clothing I own), I set out for the big city.

Bald Eagle Nest – Just Left of Center

On the way, I stopped to check out the Morningside bald eagle nest.  I call it the Morniningside nest because it is just off the Mount Vernon Trail near the turn off for Morningside Lane on the adjacent George Washington Parkway. (Aren’t I clever?)  I waited about ten minutes listening to chirping coming from up in the trees near the nest.  No big. bad raptors showed up.  So I pedaled on.  About 1/2 mile later I noticed a tiny island out in the Potomac River.  There was one tree on the island and in that tree was a huge nest. It could be another bald eagle nest or just an osprey’s, but it bears watching.

I cruised into Belle Haven Park and notice that a stop sign was missing.  Too bad they didn’t take the Dismount before Crossing sign too. It doesn’t say “Walk Your Bike”, so maybe as a form of protest all bicyclists should dismount then remount their bikes in obedience to the sign gods.  (Note to National Park Service: Lose the stupid signs. Or put them at every stop sign that a car would encounter. End of screed.)

STS – Stupid Trail Sign

I managed to make it through Old Town Alexandria without hitting any Easter brunchers. It took skill and self control because they were all over the place. 

Wiffle Ball Spring Training

At Gravelley Point, I stopped to watch a plane take off. There was a practice wiffle ball set up and a guy was taking batting practice. Dude, you need to practice wiffle ball?  So sad.

Battle of the Tidal Basin – Midway, It Ain’t

Into the city I rode. I stopped at the Tidal Basin to watch the little blue paddle boats fight it out for naval supremacy.  I can never go by the Tidal Basin without thinking of Wilbur Mills and Fanny Foxe, the Argentine Firecracker.  Washington just overflows with history, doesn’t it?

I spent the next 20 minutes on the Anacostia River Trail, which is clearly a work in progress.  The Fish Market was jammed up with cars.  People, park the car and walk into the market.  There’s only 20 spaces and there are 2,000 of you fish eaters in your SUVs. Do the bloddy math!

Back of Titanic Memorial

I stopped by the Titanic Memorial.  I haven’t a clue why there’s a Titanic memorial and not a Lusitania memorial or an Andrea Doria memorial, or a Thresher (look it up) memorial.

Continuing with Our Nautical Theme….

I contemplated these important issues as I made my way through the Navy Yard.  The Navy banned bicycling along their section of the trail so I was a good boy and walked.  I spotted a battleship, once a badass ship but now a tourist attraction.  A bit like an old polar bear in a cage. Poor ship.

I Managed to Avoid Hard Hat Hell

After some confusing signage, I made my way to Eastern Market where I came upon two lovely young ladies busking themselves silly. Have a buck, girls.  I locked Big Nellie to a hitching post and got me a stiff drink. Actually it was a tall Americano and a blueberry scone (well done, Port City Java).  I followed the scone with a caramel and chocolate bunny. Ah!

K. T. Tunstall Got Her Start Busking, You Know

After resting my bones, I cruised to the Capitol where I discovered the new visitors plaza on the east side of the building.  Very nice and inviting.  Actually, it was swarming with pesky tourists in search of cherry blossoms.  I wanted to explain to them that the reason there are no cherry blossoms is because they bloomed three weeks early because the climate changed because the atmosphere warmed because you drive big assed SUVs to see cherry blossoms.  That’s right, it’s your fault you gas guzzling fools.  Now out of my way or my mighty fairing will sweep you aside!!! 

Big Nellie, Big Dome

After a drink of water, I came to my senses and made my way through the hoards of touroids to the Pennsylvania Avenue Cycle Track.  This is a pretty cool idea.  It would work pretty well if the damned lights were synchronized.  I think I hit six red lights along this mile-long stretch. I turned right onto the 15th Street cycletrack only to encounter an SUV from New York blocking half the track.  Must not kill!

Pernsylvania – The Avenue of Lights

I let him live and made my way through the plaza in front of the White House. It just never gets old.  DC is such as cool place to live.

Tow the Bastard!  Happy Easter.

I cruised down 17th Street to start my trip home.  It was a parking lot. Why? Because five blocks up the street an idiot in an SUV was double parked and having a long conversation with his friend on the sidewalk. This ass hat had traffic (i. e., me) backed up for five blocks. He’s so lucky I left my taser at home.  (I just made that taser thing up.)  

Cherry Blossom Ceremony – Without Blossoms (Oops!)

As I reached the Tidal Basin, I came upon the Cherry Blossom Festival ceremonies. Here, honest to goodness folks from Japan promised to give the U.S. more pretty trees if we promised to buy more radioactive Toyota Camrys. (I think. It was hard to hear them.)  There were smiles all around. And to think that just 75 years ago, Japan wanted to crush the United States. And that, just 70 years ago, the United States wanted to wipe Japan off the face of the earth. I wonder if Iran has any spare trees.

What’s with This Wind?

I decided to take an easy spin down to Hains Point.  The ride down was fine but coming back I was clobbered by a cross wind that would make a Kansan homesick.  Soon I was heading into the wind on the 14th Street Bridge.  The wind was hitting me at about 2 o’clock (direction, not time) so I was leaning the bike into it to stay upright.  Some road bike riders behind me actually turned around it was so strong.

Candy Colored Bikes at the George Mason Memorial

Once across the river I had a hand on my back all the way home. The trail was a little crowded near the airport but the crowds soon thinned and it was clear sailing for the last 10 miles. I pulled into the driveway with a a big 4-0 on the odometer. My legs felt fine, too.  Another bunny bit the dust.

Can’t You Just Feel That Tailwind?

 

Yesterday was beautiful.  The kind of day when atheists have a hard time denying that somebody up there likes them.

As luck would have it, I spent the entire day indoors listening to policy wonks give presentation. There was no break in the action after lunch so we had 3 1/2 hours of speech after speech.  I was mentally numb by the end. When I consider that I was handsomely compensated for my troubles, it was a pretty decent gig, but I couldn’t help but feel like that little boy years ago smelling the lilac scent drifting into my classroom window and counting the seconds until I was liberated from Sister Irma’s clutches.

Since my workday was an away game (in DC but miles from my office), I decided to drive to metro and take the subway.  I got to Huntington only to discover that my intended parking lot was now a town house development. It’s been at least 3 years since I’ve parked there so I was pretty shocked. Fortunately, it was some sort of depressing religious holiday; the parking garage was nearly empty.  So no worries.

I hear a lot of bitching about metro but it was a smooth, uncrowded ride to Gallery Place, one block from the meeting. We should have depressing religious holidays more often.

After the meeting I stepped onto the street to the sound of a Dixieland band playing near the Verizon Center.  I’d have hung out to listen but my bum right leg doesn’t want to bear a lot of weight these days.

The ride home was even nicer than the ride in.  I love the part where the yellow line goes over the Potomac.  Pretty views.  The Mount Vernon Trail seemed really busy.

My little adventure on public transit worked out just fine. I felt bad that I missed the Friday Coffee Club get together at Swing’s but I just couldn’t fit it in.

My wife and daughter recently read The Hunger Games and were bugging me to read it so we could all see the movie. Given the bottomless pile of magazines that I have calling my name, I may never get to the book so we decided to go to the movie anyway.  It was a little boring for the first hour but once the killing started, I enjoyed it. I haven’t read the book but I knew who’s going to survive within the first 20 minutes.  Like a bike ride, the end wasn’t as interesting as the ride along the way.  

Today, I rode to the barber shop and got my haircut.  After some gardening, I headed back out for a leisurely ride. It was gusty and I felt cranky because my leg still hurt.  I wasn’t having a whole lot of fun.  To add to the annoyances, Big Nellie was making all kinds of creaking noises.  Lately, I have felt that Big Nellie feels off.  Usually this means some part is about to go kaput.  I checked the frame and the fork for signs of wear but couldn’t find any.  After 5 or 6 miles, the cycle computer fell off.  So I turned around and headed for my local hardware store to buy a part (an 0-ring). 

After that I threw in the towel.  Normally on a nice day like today, I’d be riding out in the boonies. I just couldn’t get into it today.  So I’m heading to the deck with a big mug of tea and a magazine. Hopefully, I’ll fall fast asleep.So I can do a long ride tomorrow. I hear it’s another one of those religious holidays. 

And to think I was once an altar boy….

After last week’s cavalcade of misery, I was looking forward to a clean start with the new week.  I saddle up the Tour Easy and headed out into a cool headwind for the jaunt to work.  Remarkably, nothing bad happened.  Not a thing. No falls. No killer pick up trucks.

At work, I called the IRS about my identity theft problem.  It took an hour, mostly of waiting on the phone to resolve. Now you may be thinking that I ripped off my employer for an hour of his time, but, as it turns out, one of my colleagues is working on identity authentification issues and she was very interested in learning about my problem and how I was going to resolve it. Fortunately for me (and unfortunately for her), the whole mess was a misunderstanding.  The IRS apparently raises alarms whenever there is a social security number that is used twice on tax returns. I goofed up my daughter’s return and that goof caused my return to be rejected.  The IRS was very helpful about the whole thing.  I did have to wait 20 minutes to talk to a human being but the human being I got was helpful and articulate.

So, no crashes, no killer pick ups, no identity theft. I am on a roll baby.

Big Mess at the Bottom of the Bridge to Rosslyn

Then I started for home.  I came down the hill from Rosslyn through the switchback to reach the Mount Vernon Trail.  At the bottom of the hill was a mess of gravel and stone.  If I had hit it at speed, I’d be wearing an IV right now.  I stopped and took a picture. It looks like a car traveling through the parking lot or maybe even from the Parkway slammed into the side of the bottom of the bridge.  It hit the slope of the bike path and smashed up some pavement and concrete.

Having survived that little ordeal, I sailed home with a lusty tailwind. Or maybe it was gusty. In any case I wasn’t working very hard and I was covering a whole lot of ground.

South Royal Looking South towards the Wilson Bridge

Until I came to the far end of South Royal Street in Old Town Alexandria. The Mount Vernon Trail coincides with South Royal for a block or so to get under the Woodrow Wilson Bridge.  Work is being done to renovate the adjacent Jones Point Park and this work occasionally closes the trail. Today, it looked like a complete blockade but the construction crew snuck in a narrow passage through the barricade.  I didn’t take more pictures but this work around is pretty crappy.  There’s a light post and some other utility hatch thing in the middle of the pathway.  And the transitions to and from the trail are rough.  The contractor who has been doing this work is at least consistent.  It has never done a detour without some half-assed aspect to it.  I do hope the work on the park is better than these temporary fixes.

Passage through the Barricade

The rest of the ride was literally a breeze. I nearly went off the trail down near Morningside Lane because I was looking up into the trees to see a bald eagle. I am pretty sure the Morningside nest is in use so I hope to make an eagle siting soon.   Unfortunately, in the process of looking for the eagle I nearly went off the trail.  No eagle. No crash. Knock wood.

Some how I managed to arrive home in one piece.

Every day this week has felt like April Fools Day.  After my bike crash, some really frustrating days at work, and screwing up my taxes, I was hoping for a reprieve. No such luck.  On Friday I telecommuted.  I needed to pick my daughter up at BWI in the late afternoon and leaving from home would save me loads of time. I was able to keep my leg elevated for most of the day too, but the damn thing stiffened up in the car on the way to the airport.  Fortunately, I-95 was jammed up pretty much all the way there so I got to feel pain with each application of the accelerator and the brake. 

I woke up with a very sore leg that didn’t want to play nice.  We spent the day driving 45 very frustrating miles on I-95 to Fredericksburg to tour the University of Mary Washington.  The last time I had a good look at it, it was called Mary Washington College and it was quite small. It’s much bigger now and all the plants on campus were blooming.  Very pretty.  We took the admissions tour with our daughter. Lots of stairs.  Not fun, but by the time it was over my leg was functioning okay.

After a stop at Chez Hardee, we jumped on I-95 for another frustrating brakefest.  (Dear DOT, Paving the country just isn’t working.  Try something else.  How about a train that runs up and down the eastern seaboard and doesn’t cost more than a trip to Latvia?)

Once home I decided to get the lawn mower ready for the new year.  I was distracted by the amazing weed garden on the side of the house.  Since I can’t kneel, weed pulling is particularly awkward. In any case, I felt like I was accomplishing something since some of the weeds were 2-3 feet high.

After a trip to the hardware store for parts, I decided to drain the gas from the mower.  I have the most fuel efficient mower on the planet. I ended up mowing about 2/3rds of my back yard before it conked out.  I thought that if the mower wasn’t hot, I would change the oil. I touched the engine housing with my right hand, YEEEOOOWWW!.  White hot.

Giving up on the mower, I took my Sequoia into my local bike shop.  About 7 weeks ago, I ordered a new rear rim from them and it didn’t come in. So back I went to try again.  They ordered another. The new wheel will set me back over $200 partly because they will be overhauling my rear hub in the process. 

That sounds like a lot of money.  Consider this. During my adventures today, I gassed up the Millennium Falcon (my son’s Mitsubishi Lancer).  It cost over $50! This is an economy car? As I pulled away from the pump, a guy pulled in with a humongous SUV. Have fun dude.

So March ends.  I am mighty glad to see it fade in my rear view mirror. 

I hope April Fools Day is full of pleasant surprises.

I spent the entire weekend doing my taxes only to learn that they can’t be e-filed because I messed up my daughters 1040EZ.  Totally frustrating.  I was so worked up about it that I couldn’t sleep a wink on Sunday night.  I was a zombie on Monday. I took a Nyquil Monday night and turned on the Wizards game.  I was out cold!

On Tuesday I took one of our cars in to be serviced.  I found a highly recommended mechanic in Arlington.  I needed him to diagnose the wobble in the front wheels of the car.  I described the problem and he said, “It’s an alignment problem.”  I said, “Can you fix it?”  He said the alignment machine is too expensive.  So he balanced my tires which helped a little and changed my oil.  Kind of a wasted trip, but at least I only rode 8 1/2 miles to work instead of my usual 29 1/2 on a very cold morning. 

I told Mrs. Rootchopper that I shouldn’t climb any ladders this week. I was jinxed.

I took an antihistamine last night and once again found myself sawing logs in my recliner until the wee hours of the morning.  Success through chemistry. I had a tailwind and the temps were in the 40s so I was eager to get riding.

I got to Old Town, Alexandria and accomplished something that I have been trying to do for months.  Most mornings as I head north on Royal Street I am passed by a father and son coming from the north, riding their bikes to school.  Dad, you get big bonus points from me. Son, you rock. You’ve been riding on some pretty cold mornings.  Until today, I have been unable to get their picture.  Either the camera won’t work, or the shot is blurry or a car passes between us.  Today, I bagged my prey.  A tip of the helmet to these two.

Father and Son on the Way to School

The rest of the ride to work was a nice sail. I was riding Big Nellie, my Tour Easy recumbent.  It has a full fairing (windshield) on the front.  Tail winds are joy rides.  I climbed the abrupt hill into Rosslyn.  Once there I had to pass through the Intersection of Doom.  This is where a ramp from I-66 meets Lynn Street meets the Custus Bike Trail in a poorly designed mess.  Nearly every day a cyclist or pedestrian comes close to meeting his maker.  Today was my day.

The light heading west turned red. I started to cross the three lane I-66 ramp, heading south to take the sidewalk to my office on Lynn Street. The car waiting in the first lane that I was crossing had stopped.  I started to pedal then heard a screech and a horn. A big ass pick up truck in the second lane had decided to speed through the intersection.  I can say that if I had been ten feet further along, I would be writing this from post op at Arlington Hospital.  The car in the first lane probably obscured me since I was low to the ground.  So next time I’m sending up a flare before crossing.

I felt like a Bond martini all day: shaken not stirred.

The ride home was looking good.  The thunderstorms forecasted for the evening rush hour were nothing more than a light shower that had already passed. It was 70 degrees.  Nice riding weather.

I made it through the Intersection of Doom intact and proceeded down the hill on wet pavement to the Mount Vernon Trail.  I was going probably 15 or so miles per hour when I came upon a runner.  I was going to pass her but I noticed a bike approaching so I hit my brakes. The wet pavement was like ice.  My recumbent probably has a 25-75 weight distribution. 25 percent of the weight is over the little front wheel and 75 percent over the big back wheel.  (It’s designed to be 35-65 but the panniers on the rear rack and my fat butt on the rear-ish seat skew it a bit.)  This means the front wheel is prone to skidding out. And skid out it did.

Down I went.

I haven’t been riding Big Nellie much so my falling technique could use a little work  The ideal way to fall is to leave your feet on the pedals and let your butt cheek take the impact. Alas, my right foot slipped off the pedal and my right leg got folded under me with my right knee smashing the pavement.  The leg folding thing is called leg suck in the recumbent world and it can lead to a broken leg,  I was very lucky to only tweak and smash up my knee.  On-coming Cyclist observed that at least on a recumbent you don’t have far to fall. True dat.

A Fine Looking Gash, No?

Obligatory Gravelly Point Shot

The runner stopped, a cyclist behind me stopped (which was good because Big Nellie and I was splayed across the trail).  The on-coming cyclist stopped.  If your reading this, thank you for your concern. The on-coming rider even counseled me to wait a few minutes to make sure I was okay. He even offered me his cell phone.  “How far do you have to ride?”  “14 miles.  I’ll be okay.” 

After straightening the handlebars and popping the fairing back into its bubble shape, I rode off gingerly heeding On-coming Cyclist’s warning to go slow. 

I stopped at Gravelly Point to take a picture of my knee.  You can’t see the swelling but the red gash is sitting on a welt that’s about 2 inches high.

I thought about riding to the drug store to get some bandages and ointment, but decided to take my chances with the Fibber McGee closet next to our bedroom. In a fit of shopping clairvoyance, Mrs. Rootchopper had stocked up on humongous adhesive pads which were perfect for my injury. I took two Advils, jumped in the shower and washed my wound. Then I shaved the area all around the gash feeling very Dave Stoller in the process. (My cat Fellini was nowhere to be found. Rossini played in my head.) Then some ointment and a patch and I was good to go.

I am pretty sure I strained something like a ligament on the outside back of my knee. I’ll ice it and assess it in the morning.

I hear tomorrow’s going to be a good day for a bike commute.

It was rainy most of the day. We got up at 5:15 to take our daughter to BWI. She’s off to Florida for spring break with her lacrosse team.  They’re going to practice a lot this week. (Yeah, right!) All the girls on the team had all three volumes of The Hunger Games and two swimsuits. 

After getting home and taking a long nap, I procrastinated for several hours. Three crossword puzzles and half an Outside magazine later, I faced reality and started to do my taxes.  My hard drive has only 40 megabytes and 39.7 are occupied so out with the SAT prep software, out with last year’s Turbo Tax. Pop in this year’s Turbo Tax.  No go. It needs Service Pack 3 from Microsoft.  So I download SP3 knowing that I’ve previously tried to download it 3 times unsuccessfully.  Lo and behold, it loads! After only one hour!

Now we’re cooking. I put the Turbo Tax disk in. No go!. I no longer have enough disk space!

Ru-Ro!

Now my desktop computer is only about 6 years old.  It was the bees knees when we bought it.  Now most of its once massive hard drive is taken up with software updates. 

My wife, being way smarter than I, bought a laptop last year.  From what I can tell, it plays Mahjong like nobody’s business. (My machine doesn’t even have Mahjong. Sadly, I am mired in the Spider Solitaire epoch.)   So I copied my old tax files to a flash drive and loaded Turbo Tax onto her machine.

Unfortunately, it worked like a charm. I spent the nest two hours entering seemingly endless data about our charitable contributions. We don’t give all that much, but we give to every tin cup in the free world. WAMU and WETA?  We need to decide. Adventure Cycling, WABA, and LAB?  I like my cigar too but I take it out once in a while. The American [Name Your Disease] Association. Pick one. 

After about four hours of this, I pressed the magic button and learned that once again we must pay the Alternative Minimum Tax.  I don’t mind paying taxes but paying the AMT makes me feel like we are getting screwed.  It’s like winning at negative Bingo.

We saved our asses off. We paid off the mortgage. We’ve been really good. Our reward is to hold our breath once a year and hope that we are not going to be rendered insolvent by some impenetrable math concocted by the Senate Finance committee.  Dear Congress, just raise my effing tax rate.  I won’t mind. Really.  Just get rid of the AMT. when you do it.

End of rant.

Having some foresight, I am happy to report that Mr. and Mrs. Rootchopper are getting some money back this year. We withhold like a murderer in the interrogation room. We also benefit from Ben Bernanke’s QE2 (or is it 3, I’ve lost track.). Our interest income is so low that our bank decided not to bother sending us a tax statement. Ha. Ha. You’re rate is 0.25 percent!  Ben, we need to talk, dude.

(Prediction: in about 20 years, a whole bunch of financial institutions will go broke. They loaned money out for 30 years at 4 percent and have to pay 7 percent for deposits.  Sound familiar. Welcome to the S&L crisis of the 1980s Part Deux. No worries for me. I’ll be worrying about the price of Depends and ExLax.)

So I saved everything and tomorrow I will hit the send button. One should never file taxes without a glass of wine and a good night’s sleep. 

The good news is that the refund will pay for a new computer.  So we can do this dance again next year.

A king time ago, for about a year and a half, I taught at a college in Newport Rhode Island. Classes were held in a building between Ochre Court and the Breakers.  If you’ve never been to Newport you should check out the summer cottages.  Parts of the Redford-Farrow version of the Great Gatsby were filmed inside the Breakers which was owned by Cornelius Vanderbilt.  I bring all this up because I would arrive at school at around 8 am to the sound of a fog horn in the distance.  The school was right along the cliff walk, which ran along a bluff above  Easton Bay that led to the Atlantic. Not that you could see the water. More often than not it was socked in with genuine pea soup fog.  The kind that gives you a New England accent if you live heah long enough.

The Bridge to Frog Island.or, Maybe, Dyke Marsh

This morning I left the house in a dense fog.  At times visibility was nearly nonexistent.  My glasses kept getting wet and I had to use my index finger windshield wipers to see.  By the time I made it to the Mount Vernon Trail some of the fog had lifted but you can see that it was still pretty thick.  As long as you have flashing lights and lots of reflective gear bike commuting in the fog is pretty safe, at least at the speeds I ride.  It’s a total pain in the ass for car commuters because they’re driving too fast to see what’s coming,

I put my camera away to protect it from the damp.  About 10 miles later, I passed under the Memorial Bridge.  There along the river bank was a huge great blue heron. He was walking along very slowly,  I spooked him a bit so he raised his wings for a second and, then, relaxed.  I had gone by and he was safe to creep along the water’s edge on his backwards legs.

The Tree that Won’t Die

The ride home was uneventful.  The plan when I got home was to pull out the lawn mower and use it a bit until it ran out of gas.  This way I could change the oil and put on a sharp blade on Saturday.  I thought I would conk out after 10 minutes or so, but the damn thing ran until I had mowed the entire yard.  So next week I’ll do the maintenance on the mower.  I celebrated by taking a picture of a weeping cherry tree in our front yard. Somehow this tree has escaped my wrath.  Only about 10 percent of what I plant lives.  I think my gardener father is up there having a good laugh at my expense.

My doctor’s appointment yesterday was rescheduled from 10 am to 730 am.  This allowed me to ditch the car and ride my bike to work.  Since the Sequoia had passed 30,000 miles, I decided to bring Big Nellie, my Tour Easy recumbent, out to catch up.  Big Nellie has work to do.  It’s odometer read 29,000 miles on the nose.

It was a pleasant, if humid ride to work. I passed the Belle Haven bald eagle nest to see one of the local bald eagles perched up high in the tree.  This is pretty typical of this time of year. The eagles seem to like to bask in the morning sun.

When I reached the 14th Street Bridge I crossed over into DC to check out the Cherry Blossoms.  They were pretty darn spectacular. I can honestly say this was one of the very best blooms I’ve seen.

One of the best ways to see the blossoms is to ride a recumbent to the tidal basin early in the morning. You can duck walk and glide around the basin and pass under all the low hanging branches. A couple of times tourists asked me to stop so they could photograph Big Nellie and me under the blooms.

After about 30 minutes I had made a lap of the tidal basin and headed off for work.  After work I headed back to take in more of the show. I rode across the 14th Street Bridge and headed into East Potomac Park.  The road to Hains Point is lined with cherry trees. I rode through a tunnel of white blossoms for something like three miles.  Here again is another perfect place to ride a bike.  You see much more than if you walk and you’re going slow enough to really enjoy the show.

The end of the commute had a bonus.  As I made my way down the Mount Vernon Trail I made it a point to check out the Belle Haven nest again. No eagles. About two miles farther south I rode under the Morningside nest.  As I made my approach I looked up. There, right above me was a bald eagle coming in for a landing near the nest. It’s talons were out.  As it neared the nest it flapped its wings and veered off.  I was glad I was on my recumbent because it gave me a clear view of the show.  A minute later I heard an unfamiliar bird calling directly above me.  It was an eagle swirling above me.  I wonder if it was mating. It’s the right time of year.  I pulled over and watched but I lost the eagle in the tree tops somehow.

I didn’t get any eagle pictures, but here are some of the cherry trees.