Of Wovels and Snowshoes

It’s Presidents Day, the holiday we really don’t much need but are stuck with. We had Christmas, New Years, MLK, and Presidents Day in quick succession then bupkiss. Who’s in charge of this calendar really? The long march to Memorial Day begins. Thank god baseball starts up in a month or so. Hell, I’d swap one of these holidays for opening day in a heart beat.

As luck would have it, we are having a cold spell combined with a winter storm. I think we had five or six inches here in Mount Vernon Virginia. It was just the right amount of snow for woveling. I woveled and shoveled for about 90 minutes this morning. The snow kept falling. The snowplows kept plowing my cars and driveway in. I kept woveling. I won.

After a late breakfast and some lying about I decided to drive to Fort Hunt Park for some snowshoeing. IT seemed awfully cold outside but once I put on my bike commuting gear I was perfectly comfortable.

When I arrived the park was empty except for a giant SUV doing donuts in one of the unplowed parking lots and a pickup truck plowing the park loop road.

I waved to the SUV people who were having a blast and headed off into the powder. Except for some cross country ski and critter tracks the snow was untouched. It was remarkably quiet too. Just me and my breath and the crunch of the snow under my snowshoes.

Breathe. Crunch. Breathe. Crunch.

I made a big circuit of the park.  Park of the park’s road system is blocked off so I checked it out. The snow was clinging to the trees. It looked like a giant donut baker had sprinkled powdered sugar on everything. So pretty.

The closed section of road comes back to the main loop road so I veered off down a path into the woods. I tried a steep section. I was stiff legging it, afraid I’d fall down despite the grippy teeth on the snowshoes. No problem. Sweet. Some of these trails are used by high school cross country runners so they are perfect for snowshoeing.

I was getting close to the GW Parkway. It was lightly traveled on this snowy day. I knew I was near a big bald eagle nest. I found two. One was in an evergreen tree. The greenery was only present at the top and the nest was just beneath. It didn’t look like the nest I have seen from the Mount Vernon Trail so I kept looking and soon found a nest made of large branches. This had to be it. (I managed to screw up the picture so you’ll have to take my word on it.) There were no eagle about so I kept slogging ahead.

After making it back to the main loop road I noticed something in a tree on the far side of the road. The underbrush kept me from getting close but it certainly looked to be the size of a bald eagle. It wasn’t moving though.

As I made my way back to the car, the snowplow came around the loop again. He slowed and waved to me. We were the only ones in the park.

Maybe Presidents Day isn’t so bad after all.

 

 

IWBTWD – Catchy, no?

Today was International Winter Bike to Work Day. I think it’s really for some sort of demented  bragging rights. Also for stupidly long hashtagging. Actually, it’s International Northern Hemisphere Winter Bike to Work Day because what’s the point of bragging about riding to work in Perth when it’s 80 degrees outside.

Yesterday was a telework day. The only bike related thing I did all day was to attend a 24966240255_e9de876daa_mWABA happy hour. This was 2 miles from my office which would have been easy to ride to had I not been teleworking. I drove instead because there isn’t a whole lot happy about riding a bike 17 miles in the freezing cold, having a beer, and riding the bike 17 miles in the freezing colder. Bike to happy hour is best done in the summer when you can have a beer outdoors while Colin Powell poses for a picture nearby.
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This morning the thermometer read 22. I was prepared to wear tights under my bike shorts under my rain pants. The lack of wind convinced me to downgrade the tights to wicking briefs (that is underpants made of non-cotton farbic). In a mile I knew I had nailed my winter biking attire. I was perfectly comfortable all the way to Friday Coffee Club. Along the way I stopped to admire the heavenly smile of daybreak at Dyke Marsh.

I was intent on getting to Coffee Club with time enough to enjoy myself. I rode as fast as my three layers of clothing with hiking boots and 25 pounds of pannier stuff would allow. I focused on my pedaling and breathing which pretty much put me in the trance mode for several miles.

Along the way my front wheel acted up. Every time I hit my front brake, the brake would bite the rim once during each wheel revolution. I couldn’t find a bump in the rim but this was not a good development.

I made it by 8:05 and could take my time conversing. Felkerino managed to inadvertently flip a saucer into the air where it knocked over my water glass sending ice water onto my head gear. It was a stunt that would have made Rube Goldberg proud. My buff – which covers my face in winter – was wet but I managed to get everything else out of harm’s way. Need less to say, the two mile, buffless ride to the office was eye opening.

During the day I managed to dry my buff (now doesn’t that sound interesting?) so I was all set to ride home. The ride home featured a headwind which was a bit annoying. My brake problem was not annoying because it had disappeared. Also not annoying was the fact that I rode more than halfway home without turning my headlight on.

Hurry spring.

 

 

 

 

I Think I’m Going to Need a Bigger Boat

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.

 

Just Another Fed Up Boy on the MVT

I rode my inland route to work today. I was going to work from home but the lack of rain in the morning suckered me in. I took this route because the National Park Service refuses to plow my regular route, the Mount Vernon Trail. The inland route makes us of 3 bike trails in Alexandria City as well as a a trail that runs along the edge of Arlington National Cemetery. All of these trails were plowed and are in good shape.

As usual the ride in was fun. I especially like passing the big back ups of cars at traffic lights and stop signs. (I am careful to keep an eye out for opening car doors and abrupt lane changes when I do so.)

A funny thing happened as I waited for a red light at West and Duke Streets in Alexandria. I was on West street facing north. A bike commuter rode to the west on Duke Street through the green light. This exact same bike commuter rode through the light as I was waiting on Monday and Tuesday. What are the odds of that happening?

I made it to work with a smile on my face. I didn’t even mind climbing that last annoying hill near the Netherlands Carillon.

In the evening it was raining. I didn’t feel like fighting traffic in Rosslyn to get to my inland route so I headed to the Mount Vernon Trail. It was finally cl

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The MVT in the Rain

ear all the way home. This is not because the National Park Service, which maintains the trail, shoveled it. It is because nearly all the 20 odd inches of snow melted. This took over a week. Furthermore, one short section of the trail was still clogged with snow except for a narrow path shoveled by a couple of bike commuters.

I made it home without incident but decided that waiting eight days for snow to melt is unacceptable. The Mount Vernon Trail is a major commuter route for hundreds of people. So I wrote to my three members of Congress:

“The Mount Vernon Trail is used by hundreds of bicyclists as a commuter route in the DC area. I have been using it to get to work for over a decade. The National Park Service maintains the trail, but, unlike other local jurisdictions, refuses to plow the trail after snow events. The bicycling community has complained for as long as I can remember and still the Park Service has not lifted a shovel. This past week some bike commuters actually took shovels to the trail to clear spots with particularly large piles of snow. I would like you to please contact the Park Service and tell them to stop making excuses and start maintaining the trail during the winter.

I greatly appreciate the fact that the Park Service does an outstanding job of clearing downed trees and fixing damaged bridges on the trail after non-winter weather events. So it is especially troubling to see the Park Service neglect the trail after snowfalls. Your intervention in this matter would be greatly appreciated.”

Today the Park Service announced that it is willing to sit down with stakeholders and begin discussions on how to clear the trail next winter. I have a better idea: National Park Service get off your asses and clear the trail this winter. Just as you clear the GW Parkway that runs right alongside it. No more excuses. No more delays. The status quo is simply unacceptable.

If you are a bike commuter in DC, especially if you use the Mount Vernon Trail, please write your members of Congress.

 

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.

 

Shamu’s Test Commute

I haven’t been on a bike since the Snowzilla storm. So today I went for a ride to see what my commute will be like next week. The day began with an impressive amount of black ice in my driveway. My solution was to do puzzles all morning. I managed to get all but the Scrabblegram which Mrs. RC and I have taken to doing. (Worst part is finding out that answers often include completely bogus words)

I used The Mule because it is my bad weather bike. I had to roll it through some snow in the back yard but that took all of three minutes.

Every street along my normal route to the Mount Vernon Trail was clear with the only problem areas where homeowners had shoveled snow into the street earlier in the day. Why people do this when they have a front lawn to throw the snow on is beyond me.

I arrived at the Mount Vernon Trail, took one look and gave up. It is a glacier. Just like it is every year. Thanks to the National Park Service, the only trail owner that doesn’t even try to plow or treat area trails. (They own significant real estate in the city. They don’t plow there either.)

I climbed up the hill to Fort Hunt Road, the only alternative to the trail. This took me to US 1. A trail connects US 1 to Washington Street in Old Town Alexandria. The first 100 yards of the trail were covered in plow residue. VDOT or Fairfax County couldn’t be bothered to clear the trail, I guess.

If you think that is too much to ask, you are wrong. Once the trail crosses into Alexandria city, it is totally clear. I tag on Alexandria a lot about being hostile to bicyclists but whoever is in charge of plowing did a great job here.

I took the streets through the western part of Old Town. I crossed over the rail line at Slaters Lane and US 1. The sidewalk here is also a bike lane. It was cleared quite adequately. Another round of applause for Alexandria.

I rode Monroe Street (kind of a melting mess) to Mount Vernon Avenue, the main drag through the Del Ray neighborhood. No problems. I made my way to the trail along Four Mile Run. The trail on the Alexandria side was impassible because of a creatively crappy plow job that ended in a snow bank.

I walked around this mess and hooked up with the Four Mile Run Trail on the Arlington side of Four Mile Run. Arlington done good.

Here I bailed out on the trails. I had gone 10 miles and I was tired. I spent the last week shoveling and eating. I feel like a whale and my shoulder muscles are still incredibly tight.

I headed back to Old Town via Potomac Avenue and its new side trail. All was clear sailing. Alexandria. I retraced my path to Fort Hunt Road and slogged my way up two hills trying hard to stay out of the sand and salt that had accumulated on the edge of the asphalt. Most roads in Virginia lack a paved shoulder so you can pretty much count on wrecking your drive train if you bike around here in the winter.

I made it home, a total of 20 1/2 miles. Not bad for my first day back. Tomorrow is supposed to be a 60 degree day. That should take care of the problem areas I discovered today. It will take a week of warm temperatures or a responsive and responsible Park Service to clear the Mount Vernon Trail. Alas, the smart money is on the weatherman.

 

 

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.

Snowday!

The government agency where I work usually operates when the rest of the federal government does not so I rarely get a snow day. Today, I got one. Yay me!

There was a power outage at work and the computer system crashed and there was no way for most people to get there so they just said “Fuggit. We’re closed.”

Works for me.

I set my alarm during the day on Sunday and forgot to unset it.

BEEP BEEP. 6 am you are so cruel.

I went back to sleep.

After waking I did my daily morning routine of back exercises and meditation. During the last three days, Mrs. RC and I shoveled out our neighbor’s driveway so we could park three of our cars there. (Two belong to our kids who are overseas. My wife drives her 12 year old Accord to work. My car is a driveway ornament.) A humongous pick up truck came and parked in the driveway. Oops. Later it was joined by an SUV. The drivers were remodeling the house. So I needed to make curb space to get our cars out of their way.

The snow plows had made a hard bank of snow about the width of a car on my side of the street. The bank was well over two feet deep. One shovel at a time, I cleared enough space for my kids’s subcompact cars. This took two hours. How the hell did I, a sixty year old, do this on top of about 9 hours of shoveling over the last three days?

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Nice day for a shovelfest, no?

I attribute my shoveling survival to two things. My back didn’t go out. And my heart kept pumping without red lining.

My back benefited from three exercises that I added to to my morning routine. Two are versions of a side plank. In one version, I hold myself up with one stiff arm to the floor while the other arm reaches for the ceiling. My trunk is perpendicular to the floor. I am careful not to mess up my shoulder muscles when I am doing this. I just stay in that position until it starts to become uncomfortable then I switch sides.

For the other version, I am in the same position but supporting myself on my forearm. I then dip my hip to the floor and raise it. Over and over. As I do this. I move my free arm down to the floor with my hip and point it up to the ceiling as my hip moves up. I do one set of ten dips on each side.

These exercises have given my lower back lateral stability. I learned these from my physical therapy sessions last winter but I am certain that these, like most PT exercises, is a variation on a yoga asana.

The third exercise is a bird dog. Again this is a PT exercise that is stolen from yoga. On your hands and knees reach one arm out and the opposite leg back. Tighten your belly. Hold it. You can sense your lower back decompressing. It really feels great. I do ten of these on each side.

(Yes, I know. I have said I hate yoga many times in the past. What I don’t like about it is the dedicated time commitment and the routine. I do yoga asanas for very specific purposes. The thought of doing yoga continuously for an hour makes me want to run screaming down the street.)

In the past, I only did crunches and similar exercises for my abdominal muscles. This was great until I twisted my torso under load. Then my back would go out. Twisting under load is what you do when batting in baseball, bowling, golfing, and shoveling snow. It is bad news for someone like me who has had a disc removed from his lower back.

My other survival strategy is riding a bike. (Running does the same thing. Actually better but my knees won’t go there anymore.) Once I get warmed up, my heart rate stabilizes and I can ride for hours at a conversational pace. The same holds for shoveling. In all those hours of shoveling I never once felt my heart racing. I just kept chugging along like I was riding my bike to work. The snow will be moved eventually. Just keep shoveling. Wax on. Wax off. Go with the flow.

According to my friend Rachel, who only cusses during snow crises, I shoveled several fucktons of snow this weekend. (Yes, I know at least two area women with masters degrees who use the term “fuckton.” Reason number 2,120 why I love DC.) My shoulders, neck and upper arms are sore. My lower back is fine. My lower arms are in good enough shape to fill and empty several glasses of Cabernet Sauvignon. Three ounce curls are therapeutic.

After my shoveling session, I finally put on my snowshoes and set about playing in the snow. This lasted for all of a quarter mile. The snow was not compacted enough to support my weight even on snowshoes. I kept sinking nearly a foot into the snow. My heart was racing as I powered my way forward. I fell twice, once when my shoe caught on something. Another time a snowshoe came off leaving me wallowing around in a snowbank like Tian Tian. Tian Tian looks cute. Me. not so much.

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The bunnies were doing much better than me

So I headed for home. Time to have a glass of wine and call it a day.

 

Once More with Feeling

The storm is over. Another several inches of snow fell overnight. And there was some drifting. So out I went into the powder. This time the snow was easy to move with a regular shovel. The only problem was that the snowbanks made over the last two days meant that each shovelful had to be heaved high and far. I resorted to the over the shoulder snow toss.

With Mrs. Rootchopper focusing on freeing the cars (this is NOT what I normally mean by “carfree”, by the way). I went to work on busting through the mess that the snow plows made at the end of the driveways.

Our neighbor Jay once again brought his snowplow into the fray, clearing our sidewalk and blasting through a chunk of the obstruction at the driveway across the street where most of our automotive fleet was entombed in the snow.

Three hours of this and I was done. Finished. My arms and shoulders are in a world of hurt. I have to admit it was fun in a masochistic sort of way. My only complaint is that I am too tired to go snowshoeing.

So I will settle for watching freakishly huge men concuss each other over a vaguely ovoid ball. Go Pats!

 

 

Snowzilla Strikes Back

I woke up late, around 8:00. It was still snowing outside just as it did when I went to sleep. Icicles hung from the eaves all around the house. A look outside and it was clear that a foot of snow had fallen since I shoveled yesterday.

After breakfast I headed out into the storm. There was so much snow and the snow banks were so high that my wovel became useless. I had to resort to a conventional snow shovel. My neighbor came by with his snow blower and cleared a path through the sidewalk and out to the street. Thanks, Jay.

Dig. Heave. Dig. Heave. On and on. Occasionally, I could use the wovel and did. But the snow was heavy and my triceps were tired from yesterday.

After clearing our driveway with some help from expert car excavator Mrs. RC, I headed across the street to liberate the other three cars in our fleet. The street hadn’t been plowed in hours. To make matters worse, the plow only did 2/3rds of the street. This meant I had to shovel snow to get to the neighbors driveway. How much snow? My friend Rachel said it was many fucktons. She is quantitatively astute.

Mrs. RC worked on clearing the snow off the cars. I went to work with the wovel on the obstructed driveway.

Dig. Heave. Dig. Heave.

Four hours later we were done.

All I wanted was baked goods and a massage. Alas, my baking friend and my massage friend are 20 miles and several thousand fucktons of snow away.

Of course, over the four hours, another inch of snow had fallen. We clear that, fed the birds, and headed indoors.

Everybody part hurts. Somehow.

I am spent.

Outside the storm has intensified again. White outs are happening. Winds are howling.

I have to go back out there in a couple of hours.