The Incompetent Consumer Shops for a Bike

I have been meaning to but deck furniture for two years. And lamps for the house. And new furniture for the familty room and the kitchen. Everything I look at looks ugly. I can’t convince myself to but anything. About 13 years ago I went shopping for a touring bike. I couldn’t pull the trigger on one. I did end up with a nice recumbent though. And a few years later I bought my Bike Friday. But no touring bike.

Today I decided to test ride a new touring bike. Again. The cold weather kept me indoors until 1. I called Bicycle Space to see if they had a Surly Disc Trucker in my size available to ride but they didn’t. My local bike shop, Spokes Etc., is also a Surly dealer but I rarely see Surly touring bikes on display. I checked REI.com for its Safari bike, also with disc brakes, and it said there were none in stock locally. Really?

I decided to go try my luck at the Bailey’s Crossroads REI shop anyway. They indeed had a Safari in my size ready to test ride. After some annoying paperwork absolving REI from liability and putting all the risk (however minute) of a test ride on me, I took off for a ride. In their alley and parking lot. The bike was very nice. It had wide tires and itty bitty gears for climbing the steep hill behind the store. It had handlebars that looked a bit like an infinity symbol. They looked cool but I really didn’t much like them. The brakes were located on the horizontal part closest to me which I found awkward, which is not a good thing. You want to have the brakes at hand when big metal things get in your way. The curves in the bars were bent in a strange way so that what looked super comfortable was actually ergonomically unfriendly. So I took a pass.

On the way home, just for the heck of it, I swung by my local Spokes. I was shocked to see exactly the right Disc Trucker hanging in the display area. Without signing a liability waiver (thank you Spokes) I took off around the neighborhood. There was serious like. I returned to the shop and put my Brooks Flyer leather saddle on it.

While the saddle was going on, a man about my age came in with his Disc Trucker. “Buy that bike. You’ll love it.” He commutes on the Mount Vernon Trail on his. That’s a pretty good recommendation. The salesperson started to talk abou the bike. Then I told him that I have several friends with Surly bikes and they are all happy with their purchases.

With the Flyer on, I went for another test ride. There was love. Dang this baby is smooth. I was a little put off by the fact that my feet felt like theyr were too far forward on the pedals. They were platform pedals, without toe clips. It’s been ages since I rode a bike with these kinds of pedals. Even with this minor annoyance, I was loving this bike.

I decided to sleep on the purchase but it has now been two hours and I know what I am doing tomorrow. I’m going back to buy me a new bike. First one in eight years. This bike will replace The Mule, which will become my winter/rainy day bike. I might even put snow tires on it.

It’s going to be weird having an odometer that says 00000.

Stubborn Denial

I don’t know who to blame but the weather today looked springlike but felt like winter. The wind was blowing. It was about 20 degrees below normal. And I, of course, was in denial. I stupidly left the house underdressed for the cold and froze my ass off riding to Friday Coffee Club. I I did manage to see one bald eagle on the way but this bird had its back to me as it was taking in the early morning sun. He was probably thinking: “I will not look at a fool.”

Since the calendar says April 24, the Friday Coffee Club gang sat outside in the shade. I was tempted to pour my coffee over my head but I drank it instead. I endured the cold for about 45 minutes before jumping on my bike and riding into the teeth of a now-stronger wind as I made my way up G Street through George Washington University. This is no fun, thought I.

I thought things would improve once I cleared the wind tunnel formed by the buildings of Foggy Bottom. Wrong. It got worse. Much worse. The headwind turned into a side wind as I cross the Potomac on the too narrow side path on the Teddy Roosevelt bridge. The damned wind nearly knocked me over several times. Ayyy! I don’t know if the little wheels on Little Nellie were contributing to my wobbliness. (Yes, that’s a word because I just used it.)

My the time I reached the Virginia side of the river, the right side of my face was numb. Memo to God: this is April! Please hit the reset button. K? Thx.

Maybe God’s in denial. Maybe he or she is just stubborn.

Big Nellie hits 38

Big Nellie is my Tour Easy recumbent. I bought it somewhat reluctantly in the fall of 2003. I had wanted to buy a conventional touring bike to supplement what I have come to call The Mule, my 1991 Specialized Sequoia. I couldn’t find any touring bikes to test ride so, with my gimpy back, I decided to test ride recumbents. The Tour Easy was the clear winner. I have since ridden it to north central Indiana, across New York state, and on hundreds of bike rides around the DMV. Today, we reached 38,000 miles. 17036292357_a5a6ae2002_z

I still have The Mule. Its odometer recently hit 37,000 miles. Little Nellie, my Bike Friday New World Tourist, is a baby with nearly 14,500 miles.

I am planning on going on a tour in a couple of weeks. I will probably take The Mule, unless I can get my act together and buy a new bike before then.

They Say It’s Your Earth Day

It’s my Earth Day, too, yeah.

Except I didn’t realize it was Earth Day until I got to work and saw it plastered all over the interwebs. It’s one of the interesting paradoxes of riding a bike to work every day. I don’t listen to the radio much. I’m a bit disconnected from the latest outrage or pop fad. I don’t know what music is popular either. “You’ve heard of [insert popular artist’s name here].” “Nope.”

I don’t listen to tunes or podcasts on my bike. For two reasons. If I am listening to tunes or podcasts I might not hear that bus or garbage truck that is about to roll over my two-wheeled ass. Also, if I listen to tunes or podcasts I’ll miss out on the sounds of the critters, of the rain water gurgling down to the river, to the wind blowing through the treetops, to the self-generated breeze blowing across my ears.

Today was my 42nd bike commute of the year. I stopped to watch the sun reflecting off the river. I stopped to wonder who ate yesterday’s Canada goose carcass leaving only some feathers to remember it by. (I learned today that bald eagles do eat dead animals so it may be that my top-of-the-food chain friends have started varying their diet away from Potomac River fish.)

I don’t ride to work to save the planet. It’s a nice little bonus but it is way down my to-do list. I ride to work because it’s fun, because it calms my mind and feeds my soul. If you think this sounds nutty then you don’t understand the bigger picture:

Teacher: What do you want to be when you grow up.

John Lennon: Happy

Teacher: You don’t understand the question.

John Lennon: You don’t understand life.

Bike to work. Be happy. Oh, and happy Earth Day to you.

This Is Getting Troublesome

Bike commuting on the Mount Vernon Trail normally brings the enjoyment of wildlife. Lately, it has started to get a bit creepy. Last week I rode by the head and spine of a Canada goose. No meat. No legs. No wings. No feathers.

Today on the way to work I passed a dead Canada goose lying on the trail. This one was the complete bird. I took a picture tonight on the way home. It had been moved to the side of the trail. It appeared to be headless. I wasn’t about to pick it up to be sure.

A few minutes before I stopped at the Tulane bald eagle nest. As I started to ride away, I noticed part of the skeleton of an animal in the trailside grass. I couldn’t make out what it was but it was gross.

Here it is turned over with my foot as perspective.

I don’t know if these three dead animals are connected but they were all found close to the Tulane nest. I am guessing today’s goose was hit by a car. These other two animals were picked clean.

Allison, My Aim Is True (Sorry, couldn’t resist)

The weatherman said that the morning commute would be wet. Fortunately for me, the rain left the area around 6 a.m. I felt a sprinkle now and then but I didn’t mind them one bit. It was a pretty nice ride. The post rain sunlight, no longer a sunrise due to the lengthening days, looked pretty on the Potomac at Dyke Marsh. Little Nellie posed for a picture,

The ride home was an entirely different matter. At four storms started showing up on radar. My office mates in Rosslyn sent my boss home because he picks up his kids by bike. I waited a while longer because the radar looked much worse than what I could see out the window which was light rain. By this time Allison, one of my co-workers, was in full freak out mode.

I hit the road at a bit after 4:30. There was only a sprinkle now and then. The cold raindrops were noticable in warm spring air on my body. The wind wasn’t too bad and I could see blue sky peaking through the clouds. The cars approaching on the GW Parkway did not have their headlights on. So I was pretty sure I was safe riding.

At the southern end of Old Town Alexandria things changed pretty quickly. I rode under the Wilson Bridge and could feel a blast of cold air. Not good. Heading south from the beltway on the Mount Vernon Trail I could see that the cars all had their headlights on. Looking down river a line of rain presented itself. And it was approaching fast. I stopped to take a picture and put on my rain jacket. These two things took maybe 30 seconds to do. By the time I had zipped up, I was in a downpour. I jumped on Little Nellie and headed into the maelstrom. The rain was so hard it hurt my skin. My shorts were soaked through and through within 15 seconds. Then the waves of wind gusts came, announced by the sheets of rain they sent directly into me. There was a distant rumble of thunder but otherwise I was unconcerned. I’ve ridden in much worse. Since I could see the gusts coming, I could brace for impact. As I made it to Belle Haven Park my concerned shifted from rain to falling tree limbs. Twice in prior years I have narrowly escaped getting clobbered by a huge falling limb.

By the time I cleared the park, the rain and gusts had stopped. Two minutes from start to finish. The rest of the ride home was actually nice.

Three hours later, all hell broke loose. Timing is everything. My aim is true.

A Day at Church

As every baseball fan knows, baseball is a religion. What better way to spend a Sunday than to go to church with a true believer? And so I did.

I hopped on The Mule just before 10 am and started toward DC. I bypassed the Mount Vernon Trail for the hillier Fort Hunt Road. I needed to swing by Spokes Etc. in Belle View to get some information about a broken piece of plastic on my brake lever.

Karl looked my brake lever over and said that the piece of plastic was cosmetic and not something to worry about but the fact that my handlebar was bent was another issue altogether. I’d thought that my brake lever was out of alignment but it turns out that the section of handlebar to which it is attached was toed in. The broken piece of plastic and the bend in the handlebar both probably are the result of a crash a few weeks ago, Winter ice, the gift that keeps on giving.

I decided that the handlebar issue is something that I can deal with another day and headed out for DC, this time on the MVT. It was surprisingly uncrowded. I had expected to be dodging all kinds of people but the cooler temperatures must have scared people off. (Also, this being Sunday morning, many folks are in an actual church.)

When I arrived at Gravelley Point I stopped to take in some serious Wiffle Ball. They had a fabric fence for home runs to be hit over. Better still there was a rectangular backstop on a short post that acted as a home plate umpire. Pitches that hit this strile zone backstop were deemed stikes. Cool idea.

After watching a few planes take off, I rolled onward toward DC. I checked out the national mall and hung a left on 7th Street. Soon I rolled up to BicycleSpace. I wanted to talk to Rachel “Don’t Call Me Bob” Cannon about a friend who is looking to buy a bike to start commuting on. Ted (a.k.a. @MrTinDC) was hanging out with some folks about to do one of BicycleSpace’s many social
rides. Ted told me that Rachel had just left to go to a concert, carrying her viola on her bike. I wish I had seen it.

Ted and I decided to ride in the general direction of Nationals Park. He veered off near HUD and I headed to the ballpark.

At the ballpark I gave my bike to the bike valet folks.

If you are thinking of driving to a Nationals game, be prepared to pay through the nose for parking. One lot near the stadium charges $40. The bike valet is free (tips for the staff are voluntary but encouraged.) I did a short walk to people walk then headed into the stadium. There is something about taking in the green of a ballfield that calms the soul. I sipped a beer and just took it all in from beyond the centerfield seats. Ahhh.

Having had my soul calmed, I headed to my seat. Katie (@flyinghovertrout) had bought the seats and invited me to join her. Our seats were actually cushioned folding chairs on the third level directly behing the Nats dugout. Good view + happy buttocks = good seats.

Katie is a serious Nats fan: “Today is Sunday and this is church.” 17017154188_40ff42c3af_z She has a thing for Jordan Zimmermann who pitched yesterday. There is no truth to the rumor that JZ has gotten a restraining order. Yet.

Katie keeps score in a pristine scorebook. I mean it is a thing of beauty. The scorebook I kept for my highschool team was pathetic by comparison.She’s an actual artist. Mama, don’t let your babies grow up to be economists.

The game was a by the numbers Nats win over Philadelphia.

Afterward we went to the bike valet. Katie goes to so many games that the bike valet staff know her by name and she them. One day last year they admired her red Nats socks so, at the end of the year, she bought them some. (In contrast, I don’t buy socks for myself, let alone ballpark staff.)

We rode up to the Capitol to do what Katie called her victory lap. As I said before, she doesn’t actually ride through the urban landscape, she flows through it. Around this barrier, onto the sidewalk, around this car, and that pedestrian. Fluid.

We parted on the east side of the Capitol and I headed home under increasingly cloudy skies. I took my time and cruised downed the MV, still surprisingly empty for such a nice day. 34 miles and a few sprinkles later the day was done.

Thanks for taking me to church Katie.

Amen.

Prepping for the Season Opener

Before we get into today’s events, an update on the migration patterns of the East Coast bicycle tourists. I had previously seen a single northbound bike tourist on the Mount Vernon Trail on two occasions in the last week or so. Friday night I spotted one man, Asian, about 30 years old give or take five years. (Suffice it to say, I stink at guessing people’s ages.) About a minute later, three more Asian men of about the same age rode by. It’s a sure sign of spring. They looked like they were having a blast.

Spring is really happening now. Dogwoods, lilacs, tulips, and redbuds all in bloom. Soon ducklings and gosslings will make their debuts and tortoises will lay their eggs along the edge of the trail.

Now back to today.

Anybody who knows me knows that I am a baseball fan. When Tony Conigliaro was beaned on my 12th birthday, I became a Red Sox fan living in Yankee country. It wasn’t easy. In 1973 I started college at Boston University. I became a Sawx addict. My sophomore year in a dorm about 1 block from the Citgo sign in Kenmore Square and 3 blocks from Fenway Park’s green monster. I drove a cab in Boston during the summer of 1975. I had to walk past the green monster every day to get to the cab company. During the summer many of the passengers wanted to talk about the Sawx. The Boston Globe had the best sports page EVER.

I learned that baseball is about the arc of the season not about each individual game. I went nuts during the fabled sixth game of the ’75 nWorld Series, and mourned at the feeble end of the seventh. In ’78, I learned Bucky Dent’s middle name. (It begins with F.) In ’86 I yelled at the TV “Where’s Stapleton?” wanting to see first-baseman Bill Buckner’s defensive replacement in the sixth game of the 1986 series against the Mets. My kids watched mesuffer as the Yankees won the 2003 playoffs on an Aaron Boone home run. And they watched daddy completely lose his mind going “Cowboy Up!” during their amazing come from behind stomping of the evil empire in 2004. And they won the Series to boot. Mercy. The next two pennants were fun but anticlimactic although I think 2013 was some sort of divine intervention after the sickening Boston Marathon bombing.

Now I have turned my attention to my new home.

The Nationals are loaded like Ron White on a bender. Their line up is the Death Star. They remind me of the 1978 Red Sox in that they have thunder in their bats Rooting for the Nats is meant to be. They were once the Montreal Expos. My father took us up to Montreal to see Willie Mays and the Giants play the Expos in Jarry Park. Willie didn’t play that day but I have a fond memory of sitting in the smallest major league park on a lovely August day. And besides the Expos gave Boston Pedro!

Tomorrow I go to my first Nats game of the season. I will try to refrain from yelling “LETS GO EXPOS!” during the game. I will bike the 14 miles to the stadium for the first time since that impossibly sad day last September.

Today I spent the day getting stuff out of the way for tomorrow’s fun. I picked up my holey sweaters at the dry cleaner. After a somber ceremony, they will be put in storage for next winter. Then I washed all my winter bike clothes. My jacket and vest were both disgustingly dirty. I had no hope they’d come clean but I will be damned if they don’t look like new. IMoving outdoors, I removed raised beds from our back yard. They had failed to produce more than a handful of veggies for several years. After an hour plus of digging dirt, I think it’s time for someone to invent a dirt version of the Wovel.

Next I mowed the lawn, learning in the process that it was mighty hot out for mid April. Dehydrated, I decamped to the family room and watched the second half of the Nats game. (They lost. We’ll get them tomorrow.)

After the game I took The Mule out for an easy spin to check the bald eagle nests along the Mount Vernon Trail. I saw one eagle in the massive nest at Fort Hunt Park. I didn’t see any other eagles at the four nests between the stone bridge and Tulane Drive, but I did run into Reba, fellow bike commuter and Friday Coffee Clubber. She was looking for the nests without much luck so I took her on a tour. It’s a good thing she was looking today because in about a week the leaves on the trees will make the nests very hard to find, even if you know where to look. We didn’t see much eagle action but at least Reba knows where they are.

Winter clothing is cleaned. Chores are done. Legs are refreshed.

Okay, Mule, take me out to the ballgame.

The Things We See in BikeDC

Riding a bike in DC can bring you sights you might never see. There were scores of pictures from my #bikedc friends and me of cherry blossoms this week. Yesterday morning I rode Big Nellie so that I could get a better view of the bald eagle nests on my way to work. At the Tulane nest, I spotted a bald eagle as it hopped out of the nest and perched on an adjacent branch. I pulled over to get a picture but by the time I had my camera ready it flew away. One flap, two flaps and off it went banking hard to the right into the thick of the trees along the trail. It banked left, then right again swooping among the trees. It put on quite a show. The rest of the way was just one fine ride to work. It’s that time of year.

After work I rode through the city to meet up with a friend for a beer (or four). I was a little freaked out about the prospect of riding Big Nellie in rush hour city traffic, especially in light of the fact that the Speedplay Frog cleats on both my cycling shoes are worn out. I managed to clip and unclip without incident but I did nearly get doored from the left side. A passenger hopped out of a car into the bike lane I was riding in. Had I been a second or two slower he’d have hit me with the door for sure.

I met up with Katie (@flyingovertrout on Twitter – don’t ask) at the Right Proper Brewing Company. It was a nice night so we sat outside at a picnic table. Katie had her back to the Howard Theater next door to Right Proper. Some sort of event, perhaps a fund raiser, was being held in the theater. Limos kept pulling up and the rattle-your-jewelry crowd was popping out of them. Then I look up and there is Colin Powell with Alma, his wife. They posed for a formal picture in front of a backdrop in front of the theater. Katie and I had fun swapping stories about random encounters with famous politcians. Fun fact: our national leaders buy TVs and drink alcohol just like their constituents.

After a couple of hours, Katie led me down 7th Street. She being a city dweller rides the streets like the eagle in the trees. I was having considerably more difficulty clipping in and out. And the sensitive steering of my recumbent seemed even more so. Katie peeled off for home and I managed to ride through the city unscathed. I even avoided getting hit by a slow moving cab that did a u-turn in front of me near Pennsylvania Avenue. (“What are you doooo-ing??!!!!”)

I took the empty Madison Drive along the mall to 15th and the Washington Monument. Soon I was cruising around the Tidal Basin and on to the 14th Street Bridge. Once in Virginia I had the treat of riding in the dark on a 60 degree night with the Mount Vernon Trail nearly all to myself.

Today’s ride featured no bald eagle sightings on the way to work. I did notice that the big birds that were hanging around the Belle Haven nest had white bellies which means they are probably ospreys not eagles. It was so nice out in the evening I did two loops down to Hains Point in DC on the way home. After my little diversion I rode south on the Mount Vernon Trail where I passed the year’s second northboung bike tourist. In Old Town, the bike advocates were out reminding cycists to stop at the intersection of Union adn King Streets. Unlike the other day, I managed to unclip and avoid embarrasment.

At the Tulane nest I stopped to check out the back end of an eagle. It was sticking out of the edge of the nest, flapping from time to time. Unlike the Powells, he refused to pose for pictures.

As I watched the Nationals game, I replaced the cleats on my bike shoes. Maybe now I can ride without fear of an Arte Johnson moment.

Cherry Blossoms and Bald Eagle Nests

Today was a pretty amazing bike commute. I had recently started to ride a less direct route from my house to the Mount Vernon Trail. Previously I would ride a diagonal route and pick up the trail at Tulane Drive, about two miles south of the beltway. This route is the shortest and has a fun downhill on Park Terrace. My new route picks up the trail about a mile or so further south at the stone bridge (Alexandria Avenue). I pass up the fun downhill but get to check out the Morningside b DSCN3697_830 ald eagle nest.

This morning there wasn’t any action at the Morningside nest. Another three quarters of a mile further north, I passed a cyclist who was riding slowly and craning his neck to look up into the trees next to the trail. I looked up and spotted a big eagle nest. This one is the biggest of the four I know about and may be bigger than the hard to spot nest in Fort Hunt Park. The cyclists said the nest was definintely occupied with eaglets so I can’t wait to check it out some more.

The rest of the ride in was splendid. The weather is really sublime these last few days. As I do every year, I rode into the city and walked around the Tidal Basin where the biggest crowds gather to check out the cherry trees in bloom. Today was the very last day of peak blossoms. The walk as always did not disappoint. It’s hard to take a bad picture of the cherry blossoms. I thought I had done well, but my friend Emila came down later in the day and took pictures that blew mine out of the water. Unfortunately she doesn’t have a public account that I can link to so you’ll have to take my word for it.

After 8 plus hours of work or something resembling it, I headed back to the city for a ride in East Potomac Park. The road to Hains Point is lined with blooming trees and it is also a favorite place for after work cycling. The traffic on Buckeye Drive at the western end of the Hains Point loop was gawdawful. Once I cleared the backup I rode to Hains Point alone. Along the way I could clearly see that driver after driver was on his or her cell phone, sometimes talkng, sometimes taking pictures, sometimes texting. It’s a wonder nobody got hit. At the point I failed to notice that Ryan was yelling “ROOTCHOPPER” at me. He was there having a picnic with his wife.

As I I reached the turn to head for the point a second time, I spotted Chris and Dave hanging out. Soon Rudy joined us and we headed back to the point. Despite their conversational pace they nearly dropped me. They slowed a bit to allow me to catch up.

After the second lap I headed for home knowing that I had a strong headwind to deal with for 12 miles. Yes DSCN3700_832 terday’s 48 hilly miles were zonking my legs. I stopped to take the above picture of the bald eagle nest. A passing runner said there were eagles at yet another nest on an island in the river. This is NUTS!!! Four nests in three miles. I am not entirely sure that these were eagles and that the nest was an eagles nest but I’ll see if any of my readers can figure it out from this picture.

The only downside to todays’ riding was the fact that I learned that Mary, Aaron, Brian, Ricky, Megan, and Katie were all down in the same area at about the same times I was. How I missed so many #bikedc peeps I’ll never know.

In two days I’ve ridden 89 1/2 miles. I am a tad tired. Tomorrow it is supposed to rain. To save my legs, I’ll bike commute from the car dealer in North Arlington in the rain.

Here are more pictures from today’s ride.