National Park Police and Driver Incompetence Rule

Earlier this week a cyclist was hit on North Lynn Street in Rosslyn, Virginia while riding past the I-66 ramp. This is the intersection that cyclists have come to call the Intersection of Doom or, my prefered version, the Intersection of Death. Every month, without fail, a pedestrian or cyclist is run over here. Drivers are in a hurry to get through the intersection so that they can sit on Key Bridge to get into the Georgetown.

The incident in question is described in this report. Let’s see how many ways this is messed up.

The cyclists was riding in a crosswalk. This is allowed by Virginia law. They can also ride on sidewalks. I know because I checked since I ride this crosswalk and the adjacent sidewalk nearly every day. A car turning right from the I-66 ramp hit the cyclist. Let’s give the driver the benefit of a doubt. Let’s assume they didn’t do this with intent. The driver is responsible for coming to a complete stop at the light. It is no more complicated than that. (It doesn’t matter that it was late at night. Or that people don’t like seeing cyclists roll through red lights or stop signs.) Then the driver may make a right turn on red when pedestrians are not present. A cyclist in a cross walk is acting as a pedestrian. The driver turned anyway.

The crosswalk is a red herring, of course. Drivers may not enter an intersection even on a green light when the intersection is occupied by another vehicle. (I was on a jury when this exact nuance was raised by a defendant.) Again, there is no ambiguity,

I rode through this exact intersection in the dark and in daylight over 360 times last year. I can attest that drivers routinely run the red light to make right turns. They don’t stop. I have been nearly hit dozens of times from illegal right-turn-on-red drivers.

The report I linked to says that the driver did not get out of her vehicle. On what planet does this driver live. He or she nearly kills someone and sits in the car while the person on the ground is injured and in harms way.

Another driver yells at the victim.

The victim is taken to a local hopsital. While there a National Park Police officer gives her a ticket while she’s still in bed! What a compassionate law enforcement officer. The ticket was issued based on the driver’s account despite the fact the driver’s account is inadmissable in court because it is obviously biased. The officer could not take the cyclists account because she had a mild concussion. He could have asked if her what happened anyway. Her could have asked her if she had a photo of the scene. He did neither. Maybe it was time to go eat a doughnut. (Yes, this LEO has it coming.)

When my wife was run over by a car two years ago, the driver was cited for “failing to pay time and attention.” This driver should have received the same ticket as well as for making an illegal right turn on red.

I do hope the cyclist recovers fully from her injuries. I also hope she goes to court and gets the ticket reverse. I hope the presiding judge reads the cop the riot act for being both incompetent and inhumane. Finally, I hope she sues the crap out of the driver. If she is rading this I will happily refer her to an attorney,

Finally, a personal message to Arlington County, VDOT, and whatever federal agency has jurisdiction for this intersection. Stop making excusses. Get off your bureaucratic asses and fix this intersection. Are you going to wait until someone dies?

Call Me “Duncan”

I awoke feeling pretty good. I stood with pretty decent posture. I even was able to do a full set of my physical therapy exercises. By the time breakfast was over, the pain and stiffness was creeping back in.

So I rode to work.

You knew that was coming.

It was a little chilly for shorts but I wasn’t about to screw around with putting wind pants on. I hopped on Big Nellie. Cold air be damned.

I expected to have tired legs but they seemed fresh.

Pedal, pedal.

A bald eagle checked me out as I rode past the Belle Haven nest. Good morning, Mr. Apex Predator.

Zipping down the little hill to Jones Point Park I spotted Nancy “Two Sheds” Duley climbing my way.

I could read her mind. (“It’s Monday. The sun is shining. We’re riding bikes!)

The only bad part about the commute was the fact that I had to stop riding for work. I gotta work on that whole pay-me-to-ride thing.

During work my back stiffened up. I walked around listing to the right. Yes, master.

When the whistle blew, I was back on the ‘bent.

Monday’s don’t suck when you have an evening tailwind.

I cruised between 15 and 20 miles per hour most of the way home, leaning into turns like street luge.

Weee.

The bald eagle had given way to a pair of ospreys.

The last mile brought dark clouds and an occasional sprinkle.

Home and dry.

Friday my back felt awful. Today was much better. I’ve been through this up and down thing about 15 times since first injuring my back in early February. Good. Bad. Good. Bad. My back’s a yoyo.

Call me “Duncan.”

Biking on Drugs

What a beautiful day. The weather that is. My back not so much.

After dawdling over the newspaper and eating some a muscle relaxant and an NSAID, I decided to go for a short, gentle bike ride on Big Nellie, my Tour Easy recumbent.

I loosely planned to check out some bald eagle nests along the Mount Vernon Trail, maybe grab some lunch in Old Town Alexandria and head back home.

Getting started hurt. A slight hill near home hurt. Then I loosened up and Big Nellie and I were cruising. My first stop was the nest in Fort Hunt Park. I spotted it from the MVT. In a few days as the trees leaf out, it will be very hard to find. There were no eagles about so I took a picture and then made a note of the landmarks nearby so that I can find the nest again.

I started up again. Ow. Once underway the pain subsided. I took the trail with all its curves and bridges and ups and downs all the way to the Morningside nest. The new bridges on the trail along this stretch are a terrific improvement over the cheap ones they replaced.

At the Morningside nest I struck up a conversation with a photographer. It turns out that she is the same photographer that told me where the Fort Hunt Park nest is last summer. She’s a real bald eagle addict. She told me that both the Fort Hunt and the Morningside nests have eaglets. Three other nests, one along Spout Run in North Arlington, one south of Mount Vernon on Ferry Landing Road and the one at the Belle Haven country club, have been abandoned by bald eagles. The Belle Haven nest has been taken over by ospreys. She was going to Alaska for a cruise this summer. I mentioned that she’d be seeing a ton of bald eagles on her trip. She mentioned that she will be stopping in Haines. I told her to stop at the museum and say high to Rachel, one of my #bikedc friends who will be working there this summer.

After our talk, I headed north to Old Town. The traffic on the trail was pretty busy. The usual asshat MAMILs (middle aged men in lycra) were indulging their athletic fantasies by riding way too fast. One woman walker yelled at a close passing cyclist to slow down. He had it coming.

Under the Woodrow Wilson Bridge two little boys were showing off their bicycling skills for their moms. The rode their itty bitty two wheelers in tight circles, all the while having a blast.

I rode through Old Town. Not yet hungry I decided to ride over to Del Ray to see if any food looked good. All the restaurants along Mount Vernon Boulevard had people eating outdoors. I was tempted by a couple of Mexican places but rode on.

I kept heading north through Arlandria, Crystal City, and Long Bridge Park, past the vast Pentagon parking lots and into DC across the Memorial Bridge. The tourists were out in droves. I resisted the urge to run them over.

On a whim I made my way to Carpe Diem, the little used bookstore that Rachel had been working in. I had a specific book in mind but,alas, it was too old and obscure.

Next up was a side trip to Mount Vernon Square to check out the building that collapsed the other day. Only a few years ago, the streets of this neighborhood were lined with two and three story buildings. Now, most of them are gone, replaced by modern mixed use buildings. The streets were alive with young adults milling about. The collapsed building and the ones next to it looked utterly out of place among all the new buildings, one of which housed a “gentleman’s club.”

Having satisfied my curiosity I worked my way back to Virginia. During my time in DC I saw literally dozens of women walking the streets carry yoga mats. You could make a decent living selling yoga mats around here.

Once in Virginia I turned south on the MVT. Normally on such a nice day, the trail is packed with runners, bladers, cyclists, and walkers. Today it was crowded but not enough to slow me down. South of the airport I saw a women on skates heading toward me. These weren’t rollerblades or traditional roller skates. Instead they had big skateboard style wheels, four to a skate. Must be a new thing.

Many of the cyclists were riding CaBi bikeshare bikes. In Old Town and for the next couple of miles I got stuck behind three groups of Bike and Roll customers riding their rental bikes south. The first two clusters of renta-riders had about ten people in them. Under the Wilson Bridge I encountered a line of close to 20 bikes. They were going slowly and Big Nellie (and my back) were feeling fine so I passed them in one go. This never happens, by the way.

The last three miles were a bit of a slog. I think my muscle relaxant was wearing off, but I made it home without any pain. The walk into the house reminded me of my back woes. I look like an 80-year old with osteoporosis.

So my little jaunt lasted 39 miles. Success through chemistry.

Oh Doctor! Please Help Me. I’m Damaged.

I finally decided to stop trying to heal myself and go to a pain specialist, a physiatrist. His office is about 200 yards from my house as the crow flies. I, not being a crow, had to take the roads which made it 1/2 mile. I debated on whether to drive there which would entail getting in and out of the car. Given the fact that I was standing like Quasimodo, I thought it would be less painful to ride Big Nellie, my recumbent. It was less painful getting there but parking the damn thing nearly did me in. I had to find a street sign which was in a landscaped berm on a hill in the parking lot. (This is Fairfax County Virginia. We don’t do bike parking.)

Once in thedoctor’s office I filled out a stack of forms while sitting next to some pretty sorry looking patients. None of us was having much in the way of fun.

At exactly 10 am, my scheduled appointment time, I was taken through the door of relief. As the nurse weighed me she set the heavy weight on 150. I moved it to 200. She was surprised. I guess my skinny bikey legs threw her off. I weighed 212 pounds. Yes, I have gained some weight but I was wearing clothing and had pockets full of stuff and had just eaten breakfast and was still carrying dinner around. (Icky alert: back pain often causes constipation.) So on a good day I figure I’m in the 205 neighborhood which is to say 2 long bike rides from the Mendosa line. Vain? Moi?

The doctor came in stinking of gin.

Well, no. He was sober. He asked me what was going on and took extensive notes. Then he pushed and pulled on my legs and systematically examined my back one vertebra at a time. He spent well over 1/2 hour with me. He wrote down four possible diagnoses based on my story and my symptoms. Each has an associated treatment, Each treatment involves injecting something into the problem area. One of the diagnoses was for lumbago. I cracked up. The last time I heard the word lumbago was during an Alan King routine on Ed Sullivan. (“My lumbago is acting up.”)

The good doctor prescribed muscle relaxants and pain killers with tummy medicine so that I don’t end up making an offering to the porcelain god. He then sent me to the hospital for seven x-rays of my back. And submitted a request for approval of an MRI to my insurance company. This doctor is pressing all the right buttons with me.

I climbed on Big Nellie and rode around the corner to Mount Vernon Hospital. (Helpful real estate hint: if you have orthopedic issues buy a house 1/2 mile from an orthopedic hospital.) Miraculously I found a bike rack next to the emergency entrance. After locking up and going inside I discovered that radiology was on the other side of the building. So I hobbled through the corridors which helpfully are lined with rails for pathetic creatures just like me.

The registration clerk was a helpful 30-something guy who referred to me quaintly as “Buddy.” If I had a cane I would have clubbed the young whippesnapper. (Actually, he was saying it tongue in cheek so it was pretty funny.)

The radiology tech had me put on a gown. The first one came down to just below my personal area. She got a good laugh out of it. Not wanting to awe my hospital peeps with my awesome bikey legs I switched to a long gown and was taken immediately to the x-ray machine. (From bike to scan in ten minutes. Not bad!)

The tech was gentle and made sure I was in minimal discomfort. Having digital x-rays is great because the tech can tell if the picture is usable. We had to take 2 repeats probably because I spasmed during the exposure.

Ten minutes later I was on my way to the Hollin Hall drug store. The ride was two miles and it was not a lot of fun. My back was getting sorer by the minute. I had to wait ten minutes while Eun the pharmacist called the doctorand my insuranc company to cleared up some problems with my prescription. She was so good on the phone. (“He’s in a lot of pain.”) Thanks, Eun.

Back on the bike I rode back past the hospital to Sherwood Hall Gourmet to buy lunch. I didn’t have to order. They know I always have a Gary’s Lunchbox roast beef sammich. I rode home and celebrated five whole miles of biking. Then I told my boss that I wasn’t coming into the office. I would spend the day writing a paper for work at home. (To my surprise I actually knocked off a pretty good first draft.)

I can’t tell if the medicine is working but I can tell that I still can’t come close to standing upright. The weather is perfect for bike riding and I am sitting here on my deck wanting sooo much to go for a spin.

@bobbieshaftoe just tweeted “Who’s riding this weekend?”

ME!!!

I wanna cry.

“You’re Not Riding to Work Today, Are You?” – Part 432

After five inches of rain, the DC area was under a flood warning this morning. I expected that the Mount Vernon Trail would be submerged. It was, in places, but the water was never too deep for The Mule to wade on through. One thing that made it interesting was that the water wasn’t standing water; it was flowing away from the river. Dang.

Intersection of King and Union Streets, Old Town Alexandria 8 a.m.

There was an unfortunate complicating factor to my ride: my back was in spasm. So imagine Quasimodo on a bike with big red panniers on the back.

I know what you’re thinking: only an idiot would ride a bike to work along a river that was overflowing its banks while dealing with the pain of back spasms. I’m your dolt.

It was actually kind of fun. Except for the two times I dismounted along the way. Getting back on the bike hurt like hell.

Tomorrow morning I am going to see a physiatist. This sounds like a mental health professional but it’s actually a doctor who specializes in the treatment of chronic pain. I hope to convince the good doctor to fill a humongous syringe with cortisone and shoot my ass (actually my lower back) up.

A few more pix are over on my Flickr page.

Try to Catch a Deluge

April is going out with a bang, a two-day rainstorm that will make tomorrow’s bike commute a challenge. I can’t wait.

As for April, it was a tough month. I battled intestinal problems and a lingering back issue but still managed to ride 748 miles. I rode to work 14 times for 427 1/2 miles. With no ice on the roads, I pulled Big Nellie, my Tour Easy recumbent, out of mothballs and rode it to work 8 times. It made my back happy. On 4 occassions I rode The Mule, my 21 year-old Specialized Sequoia, to work. Little Nellie, my Bike Friday New World Tourist, got the bike commute call twice.

I did three event rides. My friend Charmaine and I drove to Oriental, North Carolina for the Cycle North Carolina Coastal ride. We did two 51-ish mile rides. It was my first time riding in North Carolina. I’ve now ridden in 14 states. (Pathetic, I know.) A few weeks later I rode the Ocean to Bay metric century in Bethany Beach, Delaware with Lisa, another frequent riding partner, and her posse of friends.

Big Nellie won the most mileage award wth 338 miles. Little Nellie came in second at 291 1/2 miles. The Mule brought up the rear with 118 1/2 mile.

For the year I’ve ridden 2,041 1/2 miles. I’ve ridden to work 41 times.

Now if only my back would get better and it would stop raining…

Rambling in Bethany Beach

One of my most frequent riding partners is Lisa (@ramblingrider). We can’t quite recall where we first met. It might have been Friday Coffee Club. (I think she was one of the founding four.) In any case, we’ve done the Hoppy 100, the 50 States Ride twice, the metric (62-mile) version of the Backroads Century, at least one Vasa ride, and almost certainly many more. We are well matched since neither of us can climb hills worth a damn and we like to talk while riding.

Lisa asked me if I’d be interested in riding the Ocean to Bay metric century in Bethany Beach, Delaware. Sounded like a good idea so I agreed to join her, her husband Robert, and some other friends of theirs for the ride and, not insignificantly, some pre- and post-ride vittles and grog.

I packed Little Nellie, my Bike Friday New World Tourist, into the trunk of my car and headed out after work. The Nationals and the Wizards both had games Friday evening and the rest of the world was on the same clock as me so I had a lot of fun driving with tens of thousands of others through Alexandria and around the Beltway. We were having so much fun that we decided to join up with a few thousand more auto enthusiasts near Annapolis for the 2014 Bay Bridge Parking event. Suffice it to say, it took over 3 hours to drive what is normally a much shorter drive.

I stopped in Bethany Beach to pick up my ride number and other materials. The event staff gave me two long sleeve shirts, one from last year and one for this year’s ride. Both fit me perfectly and are really comfortable. They will get a lot of use.

I drove up to Rehoboth to the Team RamblingRider official hotel, the Canalside Inn, quite a nice place. I rendevoused (dang, can we torture a language) with the team at the Pickled Pig Pub where I enjoyed some craft beer and a sandwich with pulled pork, bacon and ham. (They should call this sandwich The Goy’s Delight.)

At 6:30 I drove the 12 miles to the start of the ride. Parking was a snap since most sane people were still in bed. In a little park next to the car, I saw a statue of a boy leaning into the wind with goggles on his face and feathers protruding from the back of his outspread arms. He was facing north. Alas, we were soon to learn that this was a realist rendering of live in Bethany Beach.

Lisa and Robert showed up a few minutes later. I rode my bike to Wawa (I do need my Wawa) for coffee.These days, I don’t eat apple fritters but I recently tried to educate Nelle from WABA on these sugar encrusted pastry bombs. I had to eat one in the interest of education.

I rode back to the car making sure to spill a third on the coffee on my hand and writs. It turned out to be West Virginia coffee, so weak you can drink it until midnight without losing sleep.

Jane and Nathan (who also rode Backroads with Lisa, Robert and me) arrived. It was decided that only Lisa and I would do the 62 mile ride. The rest of the superfriends would do the 50 miler and eat quiche along the way.

Lisa and I set off and were soon headed north on the Coastal Highway into a relentless headwind. 4 1/2 miles of nothing but grinding it out. Thankfully, this was an out-and-back segment of the day’s route. The ride back was pretty much effortless. Once back to Bethany Beach we discovered that the 30, 50 and 62 mile routes all overlapped. We were engulfed in bicyclists of all shapes and sizes. We saw triathlon bikes, racing bikes, hybrids, tadpole trikes, mountain bikes, beach cruisers, Bike Fridays, several Tour Easys (Big Nellie would be proud), a few tandems (including a Co-motion with S&S couplers), and a velomobile.

We managed to enjoy the swarm of pedalers, all of whom were enjoying the fact that this course had no hills whatsoever. (Lisa and I joked about our hill riding skills whenever the road rose five or so feet over an waterway.) The first rest stop was in a state park on the water. We decided to forgo waiting in the long line for food and headed back onto the course.

We rode through farms and woods and small neighborhoods of modest houses. Many of the farms grew a crop that I saw in North Carolina a few weeks ago. I still don’t know what it is. It was green, grass-like and about 8 to 12 inches tall. Speaking of North Carolina, the ride I did down there was flat and the roads where straight as an arrow. The roads near Bethany Beach that we rode were plesantly curving, taking us on a meander through the fields and woods. Auto traffic was light for the most part so Lisa and I rode side by side when the wind wasn’t howling.

At one point after the second rest stop, we had a nice tail wind for about five miles. This kind of riding is cycling bliss. Just a pretty country road, some recently tilled fields and blue skies. Too bad we had to turn aronud to get back to the start.

About 50 miles into the ride we came to the final rest stop. It was in a resort development. There were new houses by the score, very nicely designed. All I could think of was “Who has the money for this?” The ride was put on by the Chamber of Commerce so this side trip into the resort was understandable. In retrospect, I am surprised more businesses don’t use bike rides for this kind of marketing.

The last of the ride took us into the wind. It was a bit of a grind but the scenery stayed pretty and became increasingly suburban as we neared the start. When we crossed the finish line, crowds cheered and a band played the Washington Post March. (Not really. Maybe next year.)

All in all, a pretty nice little ride, definitely a good way to get the warm weather riding season going. We celebrated with a late lunch at the Dogfish Head Alehouse in Rehoboth. Robert was aghast that the macaroni and cheese on the menu had peas in it. I couldn’t resist. It went down with a nice Belgian white ale called the Namaste.

Here are the pictures I took.

Here’s Lisa’s account of the day.

Don’t Call Me Rachel

Don't Call Me Rachel

I had dinner and beers with some #bikedc rapscallions at Cap City Brewing in Shirlington tonight. One of these badasses is known as Bob Cannon. He is frequently confused with Rachel Cannon. This confusion is understandible. If you have Cannon confusion, here are some helpful hints. Bob is tall, has a beard, and enjoys a porter now and then. Rachel has been known to wield power tools, blast Simon and Garfunkel music that was recorded before she was born, and chow down on apple fritters. We have labeled Bob to avoid any confusion.

Adios Winter

With the emergence of lilac blossoms and their intoxicating fragrance, I now declare winter officially, completely, indisputably OVER. There were lilac bushes next to the doors of my grade school. I remember walking through the doors and inhaling the amazing smell of their blooms. Soon we’d be out of school!!!!

Earlier this week, as I came back from fetching the morning paper, a huge osprey squawked at me from the top of a tree next to my house. Tonight on the ride home, I spotted a bald eagle taking flight along the Potomac River. He was flying about ten feet above the surface straight at me. Eek.

I’ve had a few other interesting moments on the bike this week. Last night a jeep quickly backed out of a driveway as I rode toward it. I veered to the left to avoid the jeep and it just kept coming. I don’t understand how you can back up a ton of steel and not look.

Tonight as I took the lane to take a left turn onto my street. An oncoming truck hesitated. I wasn’t sure that the driver was slowing for me so I waved at the truck to continue. As I waited for the truck and the two cars behind it to clear the intersection a car came up behind me. The driver leaned out his window and called out to me: “You should have turned in front of the truck.” Thanks, dude. Next time you have a 95 percent chance of not getting crushed by a truck, be my guest. The odds are good that your pie hole will be permanently shut sooner or later.

I didn’t say anything to him. I was 100 feet from home and I had lilacs to smell.

AMA Man of the Year

Every winter, I makea to-do list. Get the cars fixed. Get some stuff done around the house. Deal with medical and dental issues. I figured I could pick off one of these a week. I got new tires for my car. I got body work done on my son’s car. I took my wife’s car in for its inspection. I had a plumber install shut off valves for the outdoor faucets.

In early February, I had a an electrician come to do some work on some light switches. In the process I helped him test whether certain circuits were live. I went to pull the tester out of a socket and my back went out. So it began.

I figured my back would correct itself after two weeks. Not this time. I’ve tried everything I know. I’d already been doing daily physical therapy for my back for 20 years. Rest didn’t help. Light exercise didn’t help. I even tried icing my back for hours each day by putting an ice pack in under by belt all day at work for three or four days. No luck.

I was hoping that switching to my recumbent would help. It did but then a chain link got bent and I had to switch back to a conventional bike.

I also went to the dermatologist to remove a cyst from my finger. The dermatologist ended up freezing a couple dozen lesions off my face, arms and legs. She gave me a cream to essentially strip the bad skin off my face. That was fun. After a second round of freeze offs, I was refered to a hand surgeon. It took a month to get the surgery done, and now my middle finger is on the mend but still oddly both sore and numb.

Last Monday, I took some Advil for my back and rode to work. At around 9 in the morning I started having cramps in my intestines. Six days later I am still having them. The upside is that I do not have diarrhea or vomiting. The bad news is I am bloated and constipated.

I am currently scheduled to go back to the hand surgeon in four weeks and the dermatologist in June or July. I hate going to doctors almost as much as I hate shopping for clothes. On Monday, I am calling my doctor and requesting referals to a gastroenteroligist and a physiatrist (pain specialist for my back). I’m sick of this crap.

Funny thing is, the one thing I can do without pain, is ride my bike. Go figure.