A king time ago, for about a year and a half, I taught at a college in Newport Rhode Island. Classes were held in a building between Ochre Court and the Breakers.  If you’ve never been to Newport you should check out the summer cottages.  Parts of the Redford-Farrow version of the Great Gatsby were filmed inside the Breakers which was owned by Cornelius Vanderbilt.  I bring all this up because I would arrive at school at around 8 am to the sound of a fog horn in the distance.  The school was right along the cliff walk, which ran along a bluff above  Easton Bay that led to the Atlantic. Not that you could see the water. More often than not it was socked in with genuine pea soup fog.  The kind that gives you a New England accent if you live heah long enough.

The Bridge to Frog Island.or, Maybe, Dyke Marsh

This morning I left the house in a dense fog.  At times visibility was nearly nonexistent.  My glasses kept getting wet and I had to use my index finger windshield wipers to see.  By the time I made it to the Mount Vernon Trail some of the fog had lifted but you can see that it was still pretty thick.  As long as you have flashing lights and lots of reflective gear bike commuting in the fog is pretty safe, at least at the speeds I ride.  It’s a total pain in the ass for car commuters because they’re driving too fast to see what’s coming,

I put my camera away to protect it from the damp.  About 10 miles later, I passed under the Memorial Bridge.  There along the river bank was a huge great blue heron. He was walking along very slowly,  I spooked him a bit so he raised his wings for a second and, then, relaxed.  I had gone by and he was safe to creep along the water’s edge on his backwards legs.

The Tree that Won’t Die

The ride home was uneventful.  The plan when I got home was to pull out the lawn mower and use it a bit until it ran out of gas.  This way I could change the oil and put on a sharp blade on Saturday.  I thought I would conk out after 10 minutes or so, but the damn thing ran until I had mowed the entire yard.  So next week I’ll do the maintenance on the mower.  I celebrated by taking a picture of a weeping cherry tree in our front yard. Somehow this tree has escaped my wrath.  Only about 10 percent of what I plant lives.  I think my gardener father is up there having a good laugh at my expense.

My doctor’s appointment yesterday was rescheduled from 10 am to 730 am.  This allowed me to ditch the car and ride my bike to work.  Since the Sequoia had passed 30,000 miles, I decided to bring Big Nellie, my Tour Easy recumbent, out to catch up.  Big Nellie has work to do.  It’s odometer read 29,000 miles on the nose.

It was a pleasant, if humid ride to work. I passed the Belle Haven bald eagle nest to see one of the local bald eagles perched up high in the tree.  This is pretty typical of this time of year. The eagles seem to like to bask in the morning sun.

When I reached the 14th Street Bridge I crossed over into DC to check out the Cherry Blossoms.  They were pretty darn spectacular. I can honestly say this was one of the very best blooms I’ve seen.

One of the best ways to see the blossoms is to ride a recumbent to the tidal basin early in the morning. You can duck walk and glide around the basin and pass under all the low hanging branches. A couple of times tourists asked me to stop so they could photograph Big Nellie and me under the blooms.

After about 30 minutes I had made a lap of the tidal basin and headed off for work.  After work I headed back to take in more of the show. I rode across the 14th Street Bridge and headed into East Potomac Park.  The road to Hains Point is lined with cherry trees. I rode through a tunnel of white blossoms for something like three miles.  Here again is another perfect place to ride a bike.  You see much more than if you walk and you’re going slow enough to really enjoy the show.

The end of the commute had a bonus.  As I made my way down the Mount Vernon Trail I made it a point to check out the Belle Haven nest again. No eagles. About two miles farther south I rode under the Morningside nest.  As I made my approach I looked up. There, right above me was a bald eagle coming in for a landing near the nest. It’s talons were out.  As it neared the nest it flapped its wings and veered off.  I was glad I was on my recumbent because it gave me a clear view of the show.  A minute later I heard an unfamiliar bird calling directly above me.  It was an eagle swirling above me.  I wonder if it was mating. It’s the right time of year.  I pulled over and watched but I lost the eagle in the tree tops somehow.

I didn’t get any eagle pictures, but here are some of the cherry trees.

The colonoscopy went off without a hitch last week but there were two minor details left unresolved.  The doctor removed two polyps while he was doing his Fantastic Voyage thing. He told me they looked like nothing to worry about but he sent them off to a lab to be sure.  Today I went back to get the results. 

No cancer. Precancerous. Will not return. 

Sounds copacetic to me.

The finding of the polyps however elevates my risk for colon cancer so I have been moved out of the five year club and into the three year club. Small price to pay, I suppose.

Maybe in three years they will make an advancement in the prep so that it tastes delightful.  Fat chance. 

I reminded the doctor of my family history of colon cancer (my mother survived; her sister did not).  He immediately said if I have any siblings over the age of 40 that they should get tested.  So Bill, Joe, Jim, Marg, Mike and Roo step right up and get your MoviPrep. You’re on candid camera.

Here’s to 2015! 

I have been meaning to join a bunch of my fellow DC bike commuters at a local coffee shop for the last few weeks.  I think this was set up by my fellow bloggers Mary and Ed.  One week after another I have had a conflict but today I was going to get out of bed and get there.  So I left the house 15 minutes early, and rode our of camp headed into the big city.

Since Monday, I have logged 123 1/2 miles.  I was expecting to feel sluggish the whole way in.  Not today.. I had more pep in my legs than I knew what to do with. I was spinning in circles instead of mashing on the pedals.  Up the Mount Vernon Trail I went uncharacteristically passing bicyclists along the way.  I cross into DC and made my way up 15th Street when bike commuter extraordinaire Reba came along side. I followed her up the 15th Street cycle track as she blew on a whistle to clear a path through one cluster of bleary eyed tourist after another.  We banged a left onto the 1600 block of Pennsylvania Avenue. Barack and Michele waved Good Morning from their bedroom window.  (Would I lie?)

At 17 Street Reba left for work and I headed for Swing’s Coffee a block away.  Within minutes of my arrival the place became stuffed with bike commuters. Many, like Ed, Mary and me, are also bloggers.  Nice to meet you  Laura,  Kirstin, Froggie, Lauren, Lisa, Brian, Jacques and all the others whose names my feeble brain has already lost.

On the way into town, the Sequoia finally hit the 30,000 mile mark on his odometer. I am pretty sure I have lots more miles that I neglected to transfer over from the first (this is the third) odometer on this bike. It’s still a cheap thrill to watch 29,999 change to 30,000.  The last several hundred miles were not the easiest.  I discovered my rear rim is failing, my pedals fell apart, I collided with a parked car, and my rear axle sounded like it was not rotating freely.  I also had a little extra weight (a Christmas present from my sister-in-law).  Nothing like carrying an anvil to slow your roll.

Next week I switch over to my Tour Easy, which has a tad over 29,000 on its odometer. (I ride a lot.)

After leaving the coffee crew, I got hung up behind a crane building operation.  A crane was building a bigger crane right in the middle of the street.  Instead of waiting hopelessly with the cars, I hopped the curb and rode through an adjacent park.  Advantage Sequoia!

Thanks again to Ed and Mary for thinking up the coffee get togethers.  Mary even thought to bring her zombies.

I’m off the bike for three days to do some daddy duty.  And 460 miles of driving. No zombies.

I look at the calendar. It says “WINTER”. It is light out less than 12 hours. Saint Patrick’s Day is still a few days away. 

I go outside. It says “MAY”. It was 80 degrees when I left the office today.  Un-be-lievable.

I’ve been riding to work in shorts all week.  Yougottabekiddingme.

The weather gods are messing with my head.  Perhaps this is the work of Satin. Or Loki. Or the Sith, Or Vladimir Putin. Or Vlad the Impaler. Or a GOP presidential candidate. 

Oh, well. Might as well enjoy it.

Last Sunday we set our clocks forward because we are too collectively stupid or stubborn to get up an hour earlier without deceiving ourselves. Now it is dark when I leave the house and light when I ride home.

I cope. The big benefit to this is seeing amazing sunrises over the Potomac River. Here’s yesterday’s.  The buildings to the right are National Harbor. The people who built this monstrosity thought it was a big deal. The sun is more better, don’t you think.

Repeat after me: Oooh. Aaaah.

Just north of the power plant I came upon the marsh caused by some active beavers.  The water level was so high here that, a few years ago, the National Park Service re-routed the Mount Vernon Trail to higher ground. Apparently the Park Service lost patience with our furry friends and pulled the plug on their bathtub.  Now its just a big muddy mess with no waterfowl or beavers in sight.

Somewhere there’s a mighty pissed off beaver.

I received a check in the mail and wanted to cash it. My old office in DC was next to both of my banks. Neither have an office in Rosslyn where I now work.  Hmmm. Lunch time. 75 degrees. Bike in the garage. A light bulb flashes.  It’s time for Utilitaire Man!  I put some straps on my pants and hopped aboard the Sequoia for a short jaunt into Georgetown. Without a helmet on I felt like some young urban bike hipster weaving in and out of traffic.  I think the gray hair, bald spot and pot belly gave me away though. I got to the bank and lo and behold it had nifty bike parking next to the front door.  As Wayne Campbell might say, “Excellent.” 

Bikin’ and Bankin’

I grabbed a sandwich after my banking was done and soon re-discovered that Rosslyn’s Gateway Park near Key Bridge is an unpleasant eyesore. Hard to complain though. I was eating outdoors in my shirtsleeves in March!

The ride home from work was awesome. It was 80 degrees. I decided to divert from my normal route and cross Memorial Bridge into DC to check out the cherry blossoms.  Peak bloom is still a few days away but they are still so, so pretty.  I hope to get over again early next week.  We’ll see.

Blooms in East Potomac Park

Back in Virginia, I took the Mount Vernon Trail home after re-crossing the Potomac on the 14th Street Bridge.  As I passed the airport I spotted a plan coming in over Long Bridge Park and Roaches Run to the west of the airport. It crossed the trail just as I approached. 

Duck!

I am having way to much fun riding in this week.  I rarely get to ride in all five days.  And never in shorts in March.  I’ve already logged 123 miles this week. Yikes.  We’ll pay for this somehow. 100 degree, code red days. Earthquakes. Hurricanes.  Something wicked this way comes.

It was a comfy 60 degrees for my ride to work this morning. A steady tailwind pushed me along. I feeling my tailwind oats, that incredibly gullible sense that today I am stronger than Lance. Until I realize the planes are taking off in the direction I am coming from and the flags are pointing my way. A genuine tailwind sucker was I.

The ride home was into the teeth of the same wind, but I didn’t mind. The digital thermometer on my bike computer read “80” for most of the way. It’s not even Saint Patrick’s Day yet! The trees are suckers for this and are blooming at least two weeks early. I don’t mind at all.

The ride home was nearly ruined by a Lancelot who passed me without warning as I passed a walker along a narrow stretch of the Mount Vernon Trail. I felt a tick on my left hand. The passing asshat actually made contact. No “Sorry”. No “My bad”. He was in a big hurry to get home and admire his engorged quads in the mirror. Someday he’ll be admiring the CT scan they do after he goes ass over pea brain into a tree along the trail.

One of the best parts of my bike commute comes at the beginning of daylight savings time. Just as I reach the Potomac River, three miles into my ride to work, I get to watch the sun rise. Here, the Sequoia with its spiffy new Velo Orange touring pedals. leans on a railing in Dyke Marsh.

From time to time I come upon bald eagles on the Mount Vernon Trail. Today, while test riding my new Velo Orange touring pedals, I hit the trail south of where I live. I picked the trail up just south of Fort Hunt Park.  About a half mile before reaching Mount Vernon, I passed a woman standing on the trail and looking up into the trees. As I passed I made eye contact and said, “Bald eagle?”  She said “I dunno.”  I kept riding and thought, when she sees one, she’ll know.

About 90 minutes later I was retracing my route.  I came to an elevated boardwalk section of the trail just south of Fort Hunt Park.  There were five or six people looking up into a tree that was arched over the boardwalk. I glanced up and RIGHT there was a big bald eagle.  He was between 15 and 20 feet up in the tree and doing his regal scanning thing.  The trail here is about 15 feet above the river bank so my little friend was perfectly situated to check out the menu at the Potomac Fish Market.

I took a few pictures and started to walk underneath to see if I could get an interesting angle. Splat!  I think he took offense!  Bald Eagle poo is a lot like pigeon poo, white and liquid. Thankfully, he missed me.  Not finding a better shot, I rode off. As I did with my back to the eagle, a passing cyclists said that he just took off.

I think the pedals passed the test..

After driving 860 miles in two days, I decided that Sunday would be a day to fix up a couple of my bikes then head out for a ride.  I forgot, however, that I am mechanically inept.

All I was going to do was swap out a set of pedals and toe clips on the Sequoia. Easy Peasy.  Not so fast, wrench head.  I had the left pedal off in seconds. Put the pedal wrench on the nut part of the pedal axle. Hold the pedal down with one foot. Push. No problem. Done it a million times. I open the box of pedals from Velo Orange and the first problem arises.  There’s no indication of which pedal is left or right. Since the threading on the left pedal is reversed, this is critical information.

So, I take off the old pedals and carefully examine the threads.  I think I id’ed the left pedal.  I start to thread the pedal on and I notice there’s no nut part.  There’s no way to use a pedal wrench on this thing.  WTF.  I can get it on but I’ll never get it off.  So I search the Velo Orange website to no avail.  I call Velo Orange and, well, it’s Sunday.  They’re probably on their bikes enjoying the weird design of their pedals!  So the Sequoia goes back in the shed.  I send them a WTF email. 

Next up, my Tour Easy recumbent.  I need to order a new seat for it.  So I go and check the design of the old seat.  Go to the company’s website and it asks me for the frame size. To me it’s “enormous”, but that’s not one of the options.  So I go searching for the purchase receipt which should be in the folder with all my bike paperwork.  Should be. It isn’t.  I finally find a repair receipt for my bike. It has the serial number on it.  Yess! I call Bikes at Vienna where I bought the bike and have it repaired. Nobody answers. Of course. It’s Sunday.  They aren’t open yet.  I wait until noon. Call back at 12:05. They have a long history for me in their computer but the computer doesn’t have the spec sheet for the bike. They say check the manufacturer’s website.  They’ll list the wheel base of the different sizes.  I do. They only list up to size large. Argg!

The folks at Bike at Vienna do tell me that the pedals should be put on with a big allen key! They’ll happily put the pedals on for me. They, alas, are 23 miles from my house.

I’m going out to search for the appropriate sized allen key. 
  
I was going to start my taxes tonight but I think that may be unwise.

Epilogue (A Quinn Martin Production):

I called Spokes about the pedal. They said bring it in. On the spot Chris at Belle Haven checked the threads put the right pedal on, fiddled and diddled. Voila.  On the road again….

Now for the Tour Easy seat….

The Sequoia has the withers.  It is fading away day by day, pedal stroke by pedal stroke.  I rode to work in near-60-degree weather with a nice tailwind.  The Sequoia acted like a horse being reined in.  And the pedals clicked and the bike squeaked. 

The ride home began in 70 degree weather into a strong headwind. I had so much weight on my bike I was pretty sure I would be staying rubber side down. (A 925 page novel was in one of my rear panniers. No ebooks for me.)  All the way home the bike seemed to resist rolling. The pedals clicked and occasionally caught.  Further.

As I went under the railroad bridge across from East Potomac Park a man rode past me with a toddler in a seat in front of him.  I felt utterly pathetic.  10 miles per hour into the gale.

Dad and Toddler on Cool Bike

As I made the bend on Gravelley Point there was the man and the toddler.  I pulled over to admire the bike set up.  This little girl had nice high perch in front of dad.  They could talk as he pedaled.  She was protected from the wind by a small fairing with an apron hanging from the bottom.  Very cool set up.  I took a picture of the bike with the toddler on it.  Then I took a picture of the bike and saw wires.  It had an electric motor.  That’s how he rode by me so fast.

Electric Dad Bike

After a brief chat I left as a plane came in low as approached the runway.   It never gets old.  I’ve been watching planes land and take off since I was a little kid sitting in my family’s Ford Country Squire station wagon at Albany Airport.  Way ahead of Wayne Campbell.

The right pedal caught several times on the way home but I managed to free it up.  By the time I arrived home it felt like it was going to disintegrate.  I took the bike into the shed and checked it out for the other noises.  As I stood over the bike, I could hear squeaks.  I looked left and right. More squeaks.  The bike wasn’t moving. Then I realized that the noises were coming from my helmet!  Doh.

Since I was checking the bike out anyway, I sprayed lube into the pedals (aren’t they supposed to be sealed?) and on the dolly wheels of the rear derailler.  Then I cleaned the chain using my old t-shirt and citrus cleaner method. Added some Pedro’s Ice Wax and quiet was restored for now.

I suspect that the groaning noise I am hearing is the read axle which needs to be overhauled or replaced. That I will do whenever Mavic decides to ship my rim.  It’s been on order for a month.  I suspect this is why Germany invaded them twice in the 20th Century.  Ich vant mien velo parts!!! 

I’m getting some new pedals tonight. 

Eventually, the Sequoia will be restored to its youthful glory.  I hope.