Did you know that hiking is a contact sport? I am getting ahead of myself.

I wanted to do something physical but the idea of driving for 90 minutes or more to get away from the city wasn’t appealing. So I decided to do a loop hike on the Potomac Heritage Trail. This trail begins at the Theodore Roosevelt Island parking lot and goes ten miles up river to the beltway at the American Legion Bridge. My route would take me from Rosslyn down to the parking lot (which was full) then on the trail frorfour miles up river to Chain Bridge, then across the bridge to the C&O Canal in Maryland, back on the canal towpath to Georgetown then across the river on Key Bridge.

The trail runs between the George Washington Memorial Parkway and the Potomac River. Occasionally the trail is right next to the Parkway. This is not exactly idyllic but you take what you can get when you are so close to town.

The trail surface switches back and forth between smooth dirt and rocks. Until the approach to Chain Bridge it is generally flat. I found myself jogging from time to time on the smooth parts then I’d slow to a crawl, sometimes literally, to get over some rocks or under a downed tree.  The trail is also quite narrow. Some of the trail users had dogs. Mostly the dogs were unleashed but remarkably well behaved. One dog owner had his dog on a leash. The dog was lunging to get at me which I didn’t appreciate since I had to step into the brush alongside the trial to avoid getting bitten or jumped on. Note to dog owners: if you have an aggressive dog, don’t take him on a narrow hiking trail. It’s rude. It’s obnoxious. And there are an infinite number of more appropriate places to take him/her. You might also get a clue and get the animal trained.

From time to time, the trail was obstructed by kudzu. This exotic vine covers millions of trees throughout the southern states. It’s basically impossible to get rid off.

About 1/2 mile from Chain Bridge there is a major rock scramble straight uphill. By this point I was sick of the rocks and just wanted to get over the the towpath so I wasn’t having much fun.  Of course, once you go up you immediately must come straight down to get under the Parkway. I became confused thinking the under pass was beneath Chain Bridge. Just as I was about to clear the far side of the underpass, I whacked my head on one of the steel beams supporting the roadbead above. Ow!

A few minutes later I realized that I was off course (there were no blazes anywhere to be found). Finally, i figured things out and headed down to the river and under Chain Bridge.

The sidewalk across Chain Bridge was a nice break for the rocky trail. And it has a great view of the gorge through which the Potomac RIver flows.

On the Maryland side of the river, I picked up the C&O Canal towpath. The hike back to the start went much more quickly as the towpath is flat. I played leapfrog with a jogger all the way back to Georgetown. She kept stopping to adjust her tunes. What a shame she wasn’t listening to the music of the canal.

Near Georgertown, a great blue heron crossed directly in front of me. I slowed and pullled out my camera. He posed very calmly. Just as I approached her took to the air, flying over the waterfilled canal.

I took the stairs up to Key Park in Georgetown. There three women, obviously tourists were getting their bearings. I gave them some advice on where to find restaurants (basically anywhere on or near the main drags of M and Wisconsin), as well as advice as to where they could go to see lovely old homes (basically anywhere off of M or Wisconsin.

The walk across Key Bridge came with a surprisingly strong cross winds. I made it back to the car without getting blown away like a tumbleweed.

It’s been a few weeks since my last hike so today’s nine miles was plenty of exercise for me.

There are a bunch of pictures from today’s festivities on my Flickr page.

I tend to go into meditative trances when riding to work. You would too if you took the same route day after day for 160 times a year for years on end.  Here’s are some hairballs by brain has cough up along the way:

• If your quest for spiritual fulfillment and happiness is stressing you out, you’re probably doing it the wrong way. You should just say “fuggetaboudit” and go for a bike ride. Or a beer. Or a baseball game. Better yet, go for all three. There you will find a breeze, a buzz, and a frozen rope to the gap. Works for me.
• Doesn’t it piss you off when you ask someone a straight question and you get back an answer to a question you didn’t ask? Its like trying to have a conversation and a press conference breaks out.
• If I perceive that you are treating me with rudeness and disrespect, are you an asshole or is it just my imagination? I suppose it doesn’t much matter, because you won’t be hearing from me anymore.
• There is nothing more irritating than dissembling wrapped up in a tidy package of spiritual philosophy or religious bafflegab.
• Can there be a worse feeling than watching a crash slowly develop before your eyes and you can do nothing to stop it? Neil Finn got two songs out of watching his dog nearly get “bowled by a bus.”
• Some friendships are like big novels. It takes a long time to get into the story at first. Over time the story has unexpected twists and turns that draw you in. Then you are completely into the story as it reaches its resolution. The author, apparently unwilling to stop writing, drags the damned book out for an unnecessary 100 pages, making you wish you hadn’t started reading it in the first place. When you’re done, however, you look back at the book with satisfaction and gratitude.
• Other friendships are like a Bond movie. They start with a rousing and riveting beginning then settle down into a fun but less intense story line that you hope goes on for a long time and you get popcorn, too. You just hope there aren’t any people in the front row having a laugh at your expense.
• True story from a soccer mom: High school girl is unattractive and dumpy. Envies the quarterback for all his cool. He doesn’t know she’s alive. Ten years later, the girl is an educated, successful, attractive single woman. Walks into a bar and sees the QB sitting at the bar. He’s a burned out, drunken shell of himself. He looks at her with lust in his eyes. She walks by and thinks to herself. “People should never peak in high school.”
•  I’m pretty sure if I refrained from eating all the things I am told are bad for me, I’d be dead from acute arugula intoxification. Not a pretty sight.
• You will never hear me utter the words “Can I have some corned beef and cabbage?” Had to eat it every so often as part of parental Irish ritual dinner sacrifice. Ack!
• I may be wrong but it seems to me that using your Facebook friends list to generate your primary source of income is a sure way to end up with neither friends nor income.
• I will never understand how sports teams let good players leave then spend billions for other teams’ expensive, disgruntled stars.
• Flip side: holding onto old stars is great for sentimentality but lousy for winning games.
• I liked Nationals Park when I first went. Now it has about as much appeal as a WalMart. Makes me nostalgic for the urine troughs in the men’s rooms at Fenway Park.
• Genderless (genderfree? neuter?) bathrooms are starting to happen. It’s a long overdue development.
• Note to the attractive young woman who passed me leisurely this morning: Did you know that the black tights you were wearing were transparent? You might want to go up one size on the panties because yours were seriously riding up. Then again, continue to dress in this fashion. I won’t need to drink as much coffee when I get to work.
• Mocking a spiritual philosophy or religion on Twitter always brings out true believers who want to convert or enlighten me. Y’all need to chill.

And with that I will take my own advice and ride to the ball game.

July featured a pretty awesome hike, a century bike ride, a couple of rides to baseball games and some test rides of new bikes.

I rode 716 miles in total, 491.5 just getting to and from work. Because of the century Big Nellie led the way with 342.5 miles. The Mule came in a strong second with 337 miles. Little Nellie was ridden for 2 commutes for a total of 36.5 miles. (One of the commutes was to and from the car mechanic.)  I rode to work 16 times.

It was a month of odd rides. In addition to the century, I rode to a Nationals game from home during the week on a day that I was telecommuting. I also rode to a game from work.  I rode to and attended a protest about protecting cyclists who use the Pennsylvania Avenue bike lanes in DC.

So far this year I have ridden 4,500 miles. 3,025 miles were accomplished just getting to and from work 99 times.  Even though it’s my oldest bike, I’ve commuted on The Mule 58 times.

Both The Mule and Big Nellie have over 38,000 miles on their odometers. I am thinking of acquiring a bike that has a little less heft to it than the three I already own. I am also looking into a new touring bike. Both bikes will have slightly bigger frames. Stay tuned.

I rarely post on Fridays. I am tired and my thoughts refuse to be wrangled into a coherent train of thought. So, inspired by a writer friend who does handstands in stripped dresses, I am letting incoherence be the order of the day.

Vegan bacon and kosher shrimp make absolutely no sense to me. They are the inflatable sex dolls of the food kingdom.

If you can find a better three days to ride a bike than the last three days in DC, I am moving into your place. I’ll put my bikes over there in the corner. Don’t mind me.

Mount Vernon (the neighborhood) is a nice place to ride from. Riding to there is pretty anticlimactic.

When Maslow came up with the term self-actualization was he putting us on? What if he was yanking the chain of self absorbed people? I can just see him sipping a boubon in an easy chair laughing his ass off.

When somebody tells you “I thought you had forgotten about me,” it’s an even money bet that she forgot that she had forgotten about you.

As much as I hate to admit it, shandys (shandies?) beat beer on a muggy summer night at the ballpark. It’s hard to gag down hoppy fluids when your tighty whities are soaking from sweat.

On hot summer nights, tighty whities are probably a bad idea.

Earlier this summer, I managed not to spot a friend at a public event even though she was wearing a green fake-feather boa and a floppy hat. I amaze myself with my visual incompetence. The persistent irony of being the son of an eye surgeon has no bounds.

I amaze myself that I even know a person who would wear a green feather boa and a floppy hat, especially when worn as an ensemble. I mean I never wear mine at the same time.

I know people who do handstand and headstand selfies. I know someone who does yoga with monkeys. I know some seriously odd people.

I think my recumbent bicycle should have wings so I can swoop better.

Words I thought I’d never hear: “…so I went to the bar down the street in my pajamas.”

Am I the only one who hears the spooky air wakes at Gravelly Point? The smaller business jets seem to have the best ones.

Life is simple. The truth is there isn’t anything more to life than really, really good pizza. Somebody tell the Pope. I think the Dalai Lama has this sussed. He keeps it to himself because otherwise he’d make himself obsolete. He had Maslow on his speed dial. The Dalai Lama takes his bourbon neat.

I wish this country had 300 million bicycles instead of 300 million guns. When you lose your mind on a bicycle, you end up in Chantilly. When you lose your mind with a gun, you end up in a box.

Norman Wilson McCloud sounds like a serial killer to me.

Wouldn’t it be cool if you could bike to Key West, take a hard turn, and have the centrifugal force shove you all the way back to DC? We could call this maneuver the Apollo 13.

“No comment until the time limit is up.” Criminals were stoopid on Superman.

I think the theme song to Johnny Quest makes for great riding music. I’ll bet Johnny is Hadji’s gardener now.

To this day I cannot figure out why Jay Silverheels didn’t get top billing. Silver and Scout were more interesting than Clayton Moore.

Yesterday, I was looking for Linel’s lost bag so hard I nearly crashed. Never found it. Today, I spotted Ed’s lost bag without trying. Sometimes luck is better than persistence.

I am convinced that there is a steroidal racoon in our yard. I am calling him Ahnuld.

If they can make vegan bacon, can they make lettuce out of ham?