Tag: baseball

More Better than February

I’ve been a sloven blogger lately. Mostly I’ve been out of town and off the bike. Friday was a day of unusual events. In preparing to go to Dulles to drop my daughter off, Mrs. RC blew out her right calf muscle while attempting to kill a millipede on the top of a door jamb. White wives can’t jump. Actuallu, it is the first time she has jumped since she was run over by the driver of an SUV. As she sprung up, my daughter heard a pop. It was her calf muscle tearing. Her days of playing small forward are over, we fear.

So the three of us drove to Dulles to see our 20-year old daughter leave for her semester abroad in Sydney. Our daughter moves through airports like water in a stream. She has now been to nine foreign countries, four this summer alone. (She’s been to France and England twice, so she should get extra credit.) When I was 20, I hadn’t been to 9 states!

My wife and I then drove to southern West Virginia, not far from where a fracking oil train derailed a few weeks ago. Large gatherings of people are an introvert’s idea of hell on earth. Suffice it to say, that I had burn marks before the entire thing was over. I caught up on some reading and wrote long emails to friends when I could get cell service.

We arrived back at home Sunday night at 10. I think I managed to get 6 hours of fitful sleepbefore getting up for a visit from a plumber.

After working from home all day, I was preparing to mow the lawn in the blazing heat when Kirstin sent me a message asking if I wanted to go to the Nats game. Yeah, baby!!!

I rode The Mule the 16 miles to Nationals Park in DC. I stopped to buy ice cold water and peanuts, then parked my bike with the bike valet. While waiting for Kirstin, Katie Lee rolled in. I was going to sing “Happy Birthday +1 to You” but the extra day just messes the whole song up. She looks seven years younger than when we got together in March.

Kirstin arrived. After some introductions, Katie left to join her friends inside. Kirstin and I  bought some more water from a street vendor (two of our bottles were intentionally frozen solid.) and went in to our seats. Lower level 26 rows from the field. Way to go Ultrarunnergirl!

The game was a great one with a half-dozen superb fielding plays by the hometown team. Kirstin spent an inning hanging out with her friend Kate. I saw a tweet from Rudy who was sitting in the stands above us. After seven innings, I actually spotted him. It helped that he was waving like starving man on a desert island.

It was hot and muggy. Between the two of us Kirstin and I downed five liters of water and two beers by the sixth inning. As I returned from the bathroom I bought us two more beers only to find that she had bought herself one while I was away. We were thirsty.

Well, the Nats won 7-2 and we all met up at the Bike Valet. We rolled down First Street in the mugginessand darkness. Kirstin and I split off after four blocks and rode together almost to the Washington Monunment. She headed north for a long slog up to Cathedral Heights. I headed to the Mount Vernon trail.

I love riding late at night. The heat and humidity brought out a symphony of bugs and frogs. Peeps and chuckling sounds and rattles and screeches. Since my ears were filled it was somehow only fair that the trail was crisscrossed in places by spider webs. Ack!

Beneath the Wilson Bridge a homeless man as usual was sitting on the bike path in the dark. He was waving a small amber light so I wouldn’t run him over. A little further south I startled a fawn who silently ran away to my right across the Parkway. I listened for the squeal of a braking car but there was none. .

I pulled into home at midnight.

This morning, on 5 1/2 hours of sleep, I rode to work in the most oppressive muggy weather I have experienced in many a year. My legs were covered in sweat after a mile. The humidity never abated. It was just gross. I was pretty happy to get to the office but the garage in our building was a blast furnace.

After a day or reading a paper chock a block full of equations and differential calculus, I eagerly jumped on my bike and headed home. It was less gross than the morning, but it was still gross.

When I got home I decided to mow the lawn. Not the best idea I’ve ever had.

This is summer in Washington. It’s more better than February.

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.

Wiffle Ball warm up for the real thing

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.

@mrtindc at @bicyclespace

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.

Bike valet at #nats park is the bomb

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_zShe 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.

It’s a Skin Feeling, Captain

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

On Tuesday, I got creative with my bike commute and Little Nellie, my Bike Friday. I rode to work as normal, spooking a deer along the way. A deer on the run next to the road will wake your ass up in a hurry. During the day, my son called and suggested going to the Nationals game against the Lastros. I agreed to meet him at a parking lot near the ballpark. Once there, I folded my bike up and popped it into the trunk of his car. 

We entered the park and decided to go to the pavilion beyond centerfield where my 21-year old child assured me the beers were less expensive. While standing at the bar, my son pointed to a small leaflet on the bar. It had a rainbow on it and something about Gay and LGBT. Hmmm. Apparently we had stumbled into a gay bar. I don’t think this is what the song means when it says, “Take me out to the ball game.”  Then again, I could be wrong.

It was LGBT night at the ballpark. I looked at my son and he wryly said, “Who knew?” “Son, is there something you’ve been meaning to tell me?” 

We had a good laugh, but we did feel a little like Kirk and Spock on the planet of the gangsters/neo-Nazis/hippies — well, pretty much any episode.  (Ever notice that whenever the prime directive was involved Kirk went berserk interfereing with the society? It makes me wonder if Dick Cheney and W binge watched Star Trek reruns.)

After our unexpected cultural enlightenment, we decided go off in search of food. We came close by opting for half smokes at Ben’s Chili Bowl. My son loves them but I’ve had one three different times and I am convinced that the Center for Disease Control will soon ban them as toxic.

The stadium was oppressively hot and humid.The Lastros decided to take their time executing each pitch and swing of the bat. Four hours later the Nationals were victorious. I think I lost 10 pounds during the game. Rather than bike home, I rode home in the air conditioned comfort of the Millenium Falcon, my son’s bucket of bolts Mitsubishi Lancer.

Cycling Is the New GPS

A couple of nights later a microburst swept through the Belle Haven/Belle View neighborhoods between my house and Old Town Alexandria. I slept through the whole thing. The next morning I drove to the dermatologist. The George Washington Memorial Parkway was closed because of downed trees. The other main routes were gridlocked with overflow traffic. I thought I’ll never get to my appointment on time until I decided to just use my cycling knowledge of area neighborhood streets. I cut through one neighborhood after another all but completely bypassing the traffic snarl. Bikes rock.

I made it to the appointment with two minutes to spare.

The dermatologist seem very eager to use his freeze gun. He zapped five or six little irregularities from my face and knee. I think he enjoys watching me wince. I could almost hear a plant in the lobby saying, “Feed me, Seymour.” 

I am happy to report I am now doctor free for the next two months. (The ophthalmologst and the dentist are lurking in August.)

Cycling for Liquid Refreshment

Thursday night meant bike commuter happy hour at Capitol City Brewing in Shirlington. Since I was working from home, I rode up to join the gathering. The ride home in the twilight through the hills of Alexandria seemed effortless.

On Friday I went to coffee club in DC where I read Green Eggs and Ham to Hugo, the cutest two year old on the planet. I don;t think Hugo likes green eggs and ham but he’s pretty enthusiastic about blueberry muffins.

The ride home was pretty unremarkable so I won’t remark on it. Even with the assist from my son’s car I still managed over 130 miles of riding back and forth to work and events from Monday to Friday.

The Rootchopper Institute’s QE4 Program 

During the week I arranged to have a contractor come look at the house for an exterior re-do. While I had my wallet out, I managed to line up a new car for my daughter a few days later. (It’s a reward for getting an academic scholarship as well as free room and board at college.)  Cost estimates of both came in under my expectations. 

I was on a roll. Coincidentally, I needed an easy, short bike ride to keep from being a sloth today. So after riding a couple of errands, I rode five miles to my (not so) local bike store to look at a new touring bike. My three bikes now have a combined total mileage of 83,000 miles on them. I don’t think any of them is up to the task of a long tour. To my dissapointment, the shop had not a single touring bike on display. On the way home I rode up the long hill on Fort Hunt Road. A year ago this would have been a slog but Little Nellie and I made it with ease thanks to my much improved eating habits (fritters notwithstanding) and resultant weight loss. (I am wearing large t-shirts for the first time in over a decade. Yay.)

I am not thinking of a long tour this summer but I’d like to squeeze in a week-long ride if I can. And who knows where I might ride next summer if I retire. 

Transam? Bar Harbor? Blue Ridge Parkway? Natchez Trace? Lake Champlaign and La Route Verte? Maybe even a perimeter tour. 

The wheels are turning in my head already.