Category: winter

Snowzilla Meets the Wovel

It was a dark and stormy night….

Several inches of snow had already fallen. Darkness came. So did more snow. We ate dinner. Then I went out into the storm.

The wind was calm. Then gusting. Then calm. Over and over.

The wovel went to work. We moved our cars to a vacant driveway across the street before the start of the storm. This allowed the road crew to plow the street IMG-20140303-00553almost to  the curb on our side of the street. All I had to do was move 6 inches of the stuff packed against the curb. Not easy. A neighbor had helpfully used his snow blower to clear the sidewalk. He blew the snow onto the strip between the sidewalk and the curb. There was nowhere to put the snow packed against the curb. The wovel made it easy to wheel it across the street.

The wovel is a giant shovel pan on a long stem. The stem runs over an axle attached to a huge wheel. This arrangement allows you to use leverage to lift the snow. The pivot point on the wheel means you push down on the handle instead of lifting up. This makes it easy to move tons of snow. It is a pretty damned good triceps workout but your back is spared stress.

But it looks dorky. So does my recumbent. I can tell you from past experience that nothing looks dorkier than a man holding on to a streetlamp because his back gave out after surgery. Been there. Done that. Science!

I excavated the cars, three across the street and one in our driveway. By the time I was done another couple of inches had fallen where I had started. Jane, stop this crazy thing!!!

I surrendered to the storm. I check out my Chia Werth. He was positioned next to the downspout. Unfortunately he was under an eave so he didn’t get the full effect of the storm. Still, it looks like the hole in his head (just like the real ballplayer!) was almost under the snow.

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After about 90 minutes, I declared the wovel the victor and headed inside for a shower beer. I had hoped for a Fat Shovel beer but settled for a Fat Tire.

Tomorrow: MOTS (More of the Same). I’d like to do some snowshoeing but I’ll be whipped from another woveling session. Snowshoeing might have to wait until Sunday,

 

I Told You that Yoga Was Bad News

Last night was Mrs. RC’s yoga night. She has a class in Virginia about five miles from her office in DC. The snow squall that I rode through on the way home turned DC area roads into a hockey rink. Mrs. RC was a half hour late to her yoga class mostly because the cars on 14th Street bridge over the Potomac River were behaving like those little plastic football players on the vibrating metal football field.

After class she jumped in her car for the ten mile drive home. It took six hours. Yes, you read that right. Six hours. At the top of every hill she encountered a bank of buses and trucks. The drivers refused to go down because they were sure they would lose control and kill someone. Mrs. RC watched as cars made descents and slid off the road. She described planning on going down after them like she was lining up a putt of an undulating green. “I need to start farther to the left.” Not a good time for a case of the yips.

I stayed up until 1 am when I saw an email indicating that she was alright and that traffic was horrid. At 2:22 am I heard the front door open. She made it without an accident.

This morning I opted to drive. The National Park Service does not plow or de-ice the Mount Vernon Trail so I am pretty much out of luck for a while. (I could use studded tires but they would slow me down below 10 miles per hour, making my commute more than 90 minutes each way.)

Tomorrow the snow bomb comes. I am blaming a friend from Argentina. She came back to DC in January 2015 and we were hit with two weeks of incredibly cold air called a polar vortex. Just a few weeks ago she was hanging out on the beach in Patagonia. Then she came back here in the last week or two. And we get this monster snow storm. I think that maybe she’s one of the X-Men.  I am taking up a collection to rent her a house on the beach in Patagonia until March next year.

Since I have no choice but to deal with the snow, I attached a new blade to my wovel and I am ready for action. If you think this thing looks silly, you should try it. It works great at clearing snow.

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Well, at Least I’m Not in Sweden

Winter is messing with us again. The wind chill was in the single digits when I fetched the morning newspaper. (Younger readers: it’s a pile of paper in a bag. There are words on it. It tells you what happened yesterday. It has comics and puzzles too.)

Last night’s wait-and-see weather reports about a big snow storm later in the week have turned ominous. There is a high likelihood of a major snowstorm, followed by no toilet paper or milk, and death from boredom.

So I left the warmth of my home on this federal holiday (see note below) and headed out into the cold. I used some hand warmers in my boots and hopped on The Mule and hoped for the best.

I rode around my neck of the woods for 12 1/2 miles. I was totally comfortable. Wadda ya know about that! Here is what I wore:

  • Goretex hiking boots
  • Hand warmers in the boots under my feet
  • Smartwool socks
  • Old bike tights
  • Mountain bike shorts
  • Rain pants (to reflect the wind)
  • Cheapo base layer from Target
  • WABA t-shirt
  • Holey wool sweater
  • Marmot Precip rain jacket (wind again) with hood up
  • Thick neck gaiter
  • Wool winter cap
  • Mittens
  • Helmet

Of course, with all this on, I could barely move but I wasn’t in a hurry. I discovered I’ve been doing the hand warmer thing all wrong. You put them under your feet not on top of your feet. (They go between your socks and your shoes, never against your skin.) For more tips on hand warmers check this out.

I can handle the cold. I can handle the slow pace from wearing all this stuff. What drives me up the wall is the ten minutes it takes to put this stuff on, and the ten minutes to take it off.

Today was the first day I wore my trusty old holey sweater. Until now I was using my blue backup sweater. (I have two back up holey sweaters. I am holeyer than thou.) My old holey sweater is the perfect weight for winter around here.

I rode around the Fort Hunt neighborhood. I was surprised to see the Potomac River had no ice on it. It could be that the choppy waves kept the ice from forming. Or maybe it has a higher salt content down near Mount Vernon.

Underdressed kids were out on scooters and bikes. They didn’t seem the least bit cold. Kids are like that.

If it stays cold, we will all get used to it. That’s what I told my daughter who is spending the semester near Stockholm in Sweden.

I think Buddhists call this lying in the present moment.

Hurry spring.

 

 

Snow Fever

It really has only been winter here in DC for about five days. The rest of the time the weather has been rather warm. So it was a nice surprise to see snow falling outside my window. Still in my jammies, I curled up with a book and felt the winter vibe. Of course, it was in the 30s outside and the ground was warm so the snow melted on contact. Still, it was pretty.

After reading for a while, I hooked  my TV up to the new HDTV cable service. All I can say is that the enhanced picture convinces me that old football players are hurtin’ in the looks department.

My chore done, I put on some riding clothes and headed out into the snow. I didn’t have anywhere to go but I did want to check out the shifting on Little Nellie. It has been sloppy for a couple of years now and getting worse. Last weekend I cleaned the bejesus out of the chain and the derailleur wheels. A few weeks ago, I replaced the cable and housing that lead to the rear derailleur.  Replacing the housing is important because the routing of the cables on a Bike Friday goes down under the bottom bracket then up to the derailleur. This creates a trap like the one under your sink. Gunk gets in there and causes the cable to stick which causes the shifting to be messy.

I was going to take the bike to a local mechanic that I think highly of but he is away for a couple of weeks. So, I decided to check out the situation myself. I found that the shifter cable and the brake cable crisscrossed twice. This means that the shifting could interfered with when I used the rear brakes. So I undid the brake cable and moved it.

Off I went into the snow. Weee. Actually, Weeeeeeetttttt! The snow was melting on contact. My feet were soon soaked with ice cold water. I made it about 8 miles before heading for home. The shifting seemed to work just fine.

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Riding in the Snow with Lobster Glove in Mouth

Now where are those jammies and my book?

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.

 

 

Perception > Reality

A friend of mine admonished me last summer for confusing perception with reality. Funny thing is she hates cold weather. I think cold weather is a reality. How you deal with it is all in your head. Okay, clothing has a lot to do with it too. We all have our limits, but simply throwing in the towel when the thermostat drops a bit seems rather defeatist and pathetic. My reality is that riding in the cold for short stretches can actually be surprisingly comfortable and enjoyable.

On Tuesday I rode to work in pretty nasty conditions. The wind chill was 0 Farenheit. (She uses Centigrade. Maybe that’s her problem.)  I took it as an adventure. Not one I’d want to deal with every day but an adventure nonetheless.

One interesting side benefit from “enduring” the cold on Tuesday is that 40 degrees now seems pretty damned comfy. I rode to work today and was having trouble avoiding being too warm. Of course, I stopped off at Friday Coffee Club. The joint was jumping. Even Froggie, now a resident of northern Vermont made an appearance. He gave me a small bottle of maple syrup too. Thanks, Froggie.

Mary was handing out Coffeeneuring patches. They are pretty spiffy. I didn’t get one because I didn’t participate this year. I drink plenty of coffee as it is having added incentive to get all jagged out on caffeine on successive weekends doesn’t work for me. Incidentally, I also don’t participate in Freezing Saddles. This is a friendly competition in which cycling teams ride during the winter. I don’t need an incentive to go out and break my neck on ice and snow. The Mule still bears the damage (slightly bent handlebar, slightly damaged brake lever) from last winter’s icy folly. I’ll likely be back at it for the Errandonnee in a few months.

From Coffee Club, I rode G Street to the TR Bridge. At a red light, I watched in horror as a bike messenger riding a bike with a really long front end  blew the light in heavy cross traffic. He made it across all three lanes but he pissed off all the drivers who had to take evasive action to avoid running him over.

The TR bridge has a stupidly narrow side path. I routinely stop to let DC-bound cyclists pass. Very few of them thank me. People who work in DC are more important than anyone else. Today, a DC-bound cyclists, a woman with her head wrapped like a burrito, said “Thanks. Have a great day.” What a shame this is exceptional.  We need more women on bicycles.

Since I took yesterday off from bike commuting, I had fresh legs on a Friday. This sounds like a bizarre lunch entree, doesn’t it? Well, that’s not what I meant. I was getting out of the saddle and riding with unusual vigor. Vigor at 8 am is really pretty damned alarming.

The ride home was a misty, foggy, dark affair. There’s a joke in there somewhere but I’m not touching it. Ed, who needs a nickname to avoid being confused with the other Ed, rode part of the way home with me. I veered off to go to the bank. There was a bad busker near the ATM. Banking really has gone downhill. It used to be you’d go inside the bank and interact with a human being, often a pretty young lady who was impressed by your massive…demand deposit. Nowadays, you stand in the rain and listen to this dreary busker play bad trumpet then start singing out of key. Perhaps he should take up the guitar to free up his mouth for singing. It worked for Paul McCartney.

The rest of the ride home was much more pleasant than the ATM. That’s the reality. To hell with perception.

 

 

I Can’t Believe I Am Getting Used to This

It was 17 degrees when I left the house. Winds were calm. I left late and sunlight was upon me.

Cowabunga!

After two days, I have the clothing aspect down. Same as yesterday but today I swapped two layered mountain bike shorts for underpants and tights. Also, I swapped to my new Performance rain pants from my Marmot Precip pants. The former is cut for cycling and has thinner material. Perfect.

After my usual 10-minute warm up, I was cooking with gas (nods to my college friend Susan who used to say this all the time back in the day). I stopped at Dyke Marsh as usual, this time where the stream cuts through to the river. Ice and sunrise. Pretty stuff.

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The boards of the Dyke Marsh bridge were cover with a crunchy frost which was surprisingly grippy, another benefit of 17 degree weather.

I cruised through Old Town without a care and made it across the two long wooden bridges to the north without slipping. Oncoming bike riders looked pretty tense but I just laid off the brakes and tried to minimize leaning.

How nice it was to break free of the tree cover and not be smacked in the face by a headwind.

Across from the Washington Monument, I stopped to take a picture. Damn, this city is pretty. I never get tired of this place. Funny how I can say that about the last two cities I lived in as well but not about my hometown. I suppose if I lived there now I’d see it in a different light. As Confucius said, “No matter where you go, there you are.”

The ride home was another day in the park. It was actually above freezing but I didn’t notice. It felt no different from the morning. The geese apparently disagreed. They were having a party in the river.

The rest of the ride home was dark. Unlike dying people, I went toward the white light.

Somewhere along the way I passed 100 miles for the year. Woot.

No bike commute tomorrow. I’m going to a high school basketball game after work.

 

 

 

Greetings from Hoth

I couldn’t sleep. I was really worked up about my bike commute today. I turned on the TV at 4:30 am. The weather report said temperatures were 17 degrees colder than yesterday. Wind chill was 0. (That’s Farenheit not your wimpy centigrade wind chill. And what happened to Celsius? Did he get fired?)

I went back to bed because all that’s on TV is ads for herbal penus enhancements. Insomnia and gullibility apparently go hand in hand.

I woke up at 5:50 and went out to get the newspaper. Dang. Twas cold.

After a hearty breakfast of oatmeal and fruit I got dressed. Underpants, tights, socks nearly up to my knees, wind pants, hiking boots with chemical hand warmers inside, long sleeve base layer, t-shirt, holey wool sweater, rain jacket, balaclava, mittens. Now if I could only move my body.

I penguined outside and managed to climb on my bike. I would have taken my tauntaun but it froze to death. So off I went on The Mule.

Twas cold.

Pedal, pedal.

I was so encumbered by my layers on layers that sustaining 10 miles per hour was a challenge. The headwind didn’t help. And there’s always a possibility that The Mule needs some TLC.

I don’t think I broke 20 mph on the Park Terrace descent. Usually, I hit 30 with ease.

I stopped for a sunrise picture at Dyke Marsh. It was too soon. Too soon for the sun. Too soon because 100 yards further along there was beautiful ice in the marsh. I didn’t take a picture of this because…

Twas Cold

Pedal, pedal.

Lots of effort. Very little speed. And I was overheating.  I lowered the zipper on my jacket. In minutes my upper chest was frozen. Yeah, well.

In Old Town the illegally parked car at 406 North Union was gone. It was replaced by another illegally parked car. At least this one wasn’t blocking the bike lane.

An astonishing number of people were riding on the trail. I saw a woman running. She was pushing a stroller. Don’t mess with this family. They are from Hoth. (Hotians?)

Ed, a bike commuter who lives near me, blew by me like I was standing still. As did pretty much every other DC-bound commuter.  Ugh.

As usual the headwinds intensified between the airport and TR Island. I started talking to myself. Mostly cuss words. Slow progress. Pedal harder, mofo. My left eyeball started to feel frozen. Gross.

I found that I had to stand to get up the Rosslyn hill. Something really must be wrong with this bike. Or could it be the 4,000 cookies and 3 cases of beer I ate and drank over the holidays?

I arrived at work. The garage attendant and a maintenance worker congratulated me. All bike commuters should have fans.

It took me another 10 minutes to peel off all the layers. I got to the office 30 minutes late. It was so worth it.

I was looking forward to a tailwind all day. Then I got the news. The winds had calmed but it was a springlike 31 degrees outside.

Arlo Guthrie once referred to a 40 degree day in the Berkshires as New England tanning weather. I was practically ready to break out the sunscreen. Instead I ditched my t-shirt layer.

The ride home was truly lovely. For the first ten minutes it was light out. I warmed up immediately and was perfectly comfortable. Even better I was riding at my normal 11 – 12 miles per hour. Between the TR and Memorial Bridges I came upon hundreds of Canada geese. They posed for a picture then I did my best Charlton Heston and made them part.

Geese

Okay, Moses didn’t yell “Yee Haw!!!!” but I did.

The rest of the ride home was geese free. In Old Town, the bike lane was free of parked cars.

I am looking forward to my ride to work. It will be in the 20s with light winds.

I cannot believe I just wrote that.

Welcome Winter

We have had an exceptionally warm winter so far here in the DC area. That ended today. And wouldn’t you know it, today was the first bike commute of the new year.

Nothing says fun like riding into a headwind when it is 28 degrees outside.

And so I did.

After about three miles I was comfortable. I was also protected by trees and short buildings in Old Town Alexandria. After a while my fingertips started feeling cold. And my toes. Then “Hi, John!” It was Linel.

We talked for a while. Or tried to. It’s hard to hold a conversation while riding, with your ears covered, in a headwind.

About that headwind. It got stronger as the tree protection fell away. Linel and I swapped leads. When we came to the exposed area just north of the airport, I took the lead. Oof!

Linel turned off to go across the 14th Street Bridge. I proceeded into the headwind.

Pedal, pedal.

I took the trail bridge across the Parkway. I was about 15 feet up and the headwind was now a cross wind. Whoa! (It turns out that Linel was exposed to this crosswind for about 1/2 mile. Not much fun.)

Damage report. All decks.

I arrived at work with numb toes. The shower I took made them burn.

The ride home was a ride on a tailwind. I didn’t struggle. I just went with the flow. Bikes passed me. Fast. I didn’t care. A tailwind is a terrible thing to waste.

Near the Memorial Bridge, large gaggles (weird word that) of Canada geese were bumbling about on either side of the trail. The trail was covered in geese poo. Lovely. Honk your own self.

It was cold but with the wind at my back I was surprisingly comfortable. And in a good mood. Until I reached Old Town Alexandria.

At the first cross street, a car made a u-turn across the trail as I was riding past. The driver could have continued 100 feet and used the circular turnaround in front of some office buildings. Instead the driver decided to take a chance on running me over. This happens all the time for some reason.

A quarter mile later I was in the bike lane on North Union Street in Old Town. A car was parked perpendicular to the curb completely blocking the bike lane. It was parked at 406 North Union. This is a frequent occurrence. I was cold so I didn’t stop to take a picture or knock on the door. I did note that the license plate was Virginia J 3. This sounds like a well-connected individual. The house is worth well over $1 million. When I got home, I called the Alexandria Police. They took my information and said they’d check it out. In light of the fact that Union Street is patrolled by a parking enforcement person every night, I suspect that the city looks the other way at resident parking scofflaws with deep pockets.  Call me cynical, but I doubt anything will change. Except I will keep complaining to the police, because it’s a bicycle friendly city. It says so on a sign.

The rest of the ride home was uneventful. Cold but uneventful. Tomorrow will be colder still. I will be wearing hiking boots with chemical foot warmers inside. Tights under wind pants. An additional layer up top. A balaclava will complete my stylish look. I hope I can pedal under all the clothing I’ll have on.

Of course, I could drive or work from home.

Except nothing says fun like riding into a headwind when it is 18 degrees outside.