Powerless

For a week in December, last week was pretty hardcore. It started with a gentle 12-mile ride on Sunday. Then five days of bike commuting and a side trip to Friday Coffee Club added 152 miles. On Saturday, I rode the inaugural Cider Ride. I parked for free in East Potomac Park and rode 2 1/2 miles to and from the start. My total mileage for the day was 65. So my seven-day total was 229 miles, every bit of it on Little Nellie, my Bike Friday New World Tourist.

Dang did I need some rest. Little Nellie’s 20-inch wheels can really beat me up. Thankfully, the weather gods gave us a nasty bit of wintry weather in the form of an ice storm on Sunday. All was going as planned. I was getting plenty of rest. Reading. Drinking tea. And feeling rather chipper. After a long day of idling, I went to bed. During the night, big chunks of ice landing on the deck and patio beneath our bedroom window kept waking Mrs. Rootchopper and me up. One of these landed around 2:55 a.m. We tried to spot its remnants outside but we couldn’t see them from the window and there was no way we were going out in the storm to check things out. So we went back to bed. Then at 3:00, BAM, an explosion, followed by quiet and dark.

Apparently an electrical transformer blew. It knocked out the power on our side of the street, and nowhere else nearby. We’d been through this before when the derecho hit in the summer of 2012. That time, our power was out for ten days. The temperature in our living room rose to 94 very muggy degrees. This time would difference.

We called the outage in to Dominion Electric Power, went back to bed, and hoped for the best. By morning, the temperature in the house was 63 and falling. I had planned to work from home on Monday. With ice on the roads and trails, I decided not to put my faith in Dominion or any of my bikes, hopped in the car, and headed for the office. If you think I’m riding 30 miles round trip on ice to arrive home to a freezing house, you’ve got another thing coming.

After a day of working with fingers crossed, I drove home and found my house to be DARK.

It was 55 inside. Mrs. Rootchopper showed up and we went to dinner. A big burrito and margarita later were back in the cold house. Rather than sit there and shiver, we went to the movies. We saw Philomena, which struck this Irish American, erstwhile altar boy, and long lapsed Catholic as all too close to the bone for a variety of reasons. In any event, it was a relief to see a movie without CGI monsters and superheroes.

We arrived home at 11:30. DARK and COLD. We pulled out the sleeping bags, put on our warmest sleeping duds and went to bed.

It was 51 when we woke up.

I drove to work again. During the day, an Associated Press reporter (oddly, from Pittsburgh) contacted me to ask about the outage. I told him my tale. Maybe I’ll be in the papers again. (This interview thing is getting kind of surreal.)

I spent the day refreshing the outage information from the Dominion website. Fewer than two percent of houses in Fairfax County where I live were without power. The number dropped to one percent over the day, then increased! At 3 o’clock some 36 hours after the outage began the blue dot on the map near my house disappeared. I called home and my voice mail had a message from Dominion. It didn’t say my power was restored, it said something to the effect that if I was still having problems to call them.

I drove home to investigate and saw the porch light on. Yay. The temperature inside was 63 and rising.

While I appreciate the efforts of the people who got our power restored, I fail to understand why our spot on the electrical grid seems to be particularly prone to outages. You’d think Dominion would identify weak spots in its distribution network and fix them. You’d apparently think wrong.

I’m working from home tomorrow. I expect that ice will keep me off the bike (outdoors, at least) for another couple of days before riding to work and Coffee Club on Friday. It looks like this will be, at most, a 32 mile week.

I suppose I needed the rest.

Sixty Miles for Some Cider

Today was the inaugural Cider Ride put on by the Washington Area Bicyclists Association (WABA). In the tradition of the Vasa ride held in early March, this ride was all about riding in the cold in order to partake of a warm, sweet beverage. Despite the fact that December in DC is not exactly or even remotely warm, the event sold out. There were three rides named after apples. I rode on the Honeycrisp ride which was 60 miles long. Another ride was 47 miles. The third ride was 15 miles. (They didn’t get any cider on the 15-miler. They were first in line for quiche though.)

The ride departed from Canal Park in Near Southeast DC. This park which also has a tavern, site of the after-party and an outdoor ice rink, is on M Street near Nationals Park and the Navy Yard. We headed out for a farm somewhere near Bowie MD to the east northeast of the start at 8:30. There was a fair contingent of people from Friday Coffee Club including new-ish Dad Justin, Ryan, and Ed and Mary on their scary big tandem (which does not yet appear to have a name. Dave, a veteran of this year’s version of the Hoppy 100, was working the registration desk. Nelle from WABA was also there working. (One of the ironic things about working for WABA is that you rarely get to do the rides!)

Off we went to the east, over the new 11 Street bridge into Anacostia where we took the first left and started climbing away from the Anacostia River. The Coffeeneurs were in a pack until gravity grabbed Little Nellie and me. Bye, everybody. I was fell in with a back of young women who were kind enough to suppress their snickers at the sight of a big guy on a clown bike. After about a mile we were on roads that I’ve never ridden on before. We were soon in Prince Georges County MD. Inside the beltway PG County is not exactly Shangrila, but it does have paved roads which were useful for this sort of ride.

We rode by the federal complex in Suitland MD. I pity the weather service and Census workers that work in that place. It looks like a maximum security prison.

On we rode, turning this way and that. I became separated from the ladies and fell in with a couple of ride marshals (volunteers who help the riders fix flats, find their way, etc.). My ride marshals soon missed a turn. I think we all thought someone else was paying attention to the directions. We got sorted out and back on course. The course itself had lots of rolling hills which kept us honest. Not having a map with me, I was utterly lost.

We crossed over the beltway and suddenly some of the roads started to look familiar. I think I rode on these on the way to Annapolis about ten years ago. We popped into subdivisions then back out onto mostly two-lane roads. Then we crossed the busy Crane Highway (US 301) and, as if by a snap of the fingers, we were are two-lane country roads. We passed fallow farmers’ fields, creeks, woods, and the occasional misplaced McMansion and soon found ourselves at the rest stop at the halfway point. Here I enjoyed some warm cider, some junky snacks (tasted great), and a brief conversation with Megan from WABA. I think the last time I saw her at an event like this was at the halfway rest stop at the Vasa ride in March. Megan is from Florida so cold is not her thing but she had four layers on today. As for me, the only part of my body that was cold was my toes. Before leaving, I slipped some toe warmers into my shoes. Ahhh.

We took a mostly different route back. It seemed to have few turns so the navigation was a lot easier. One road was a rutted mess. My back, already beaten up by the morning’s ride not to mention 150 miles of bike commuting this week was really unhappy. I survived. Somehow I was now in a group with three course marshals. How nice of WABA to provide such personal service. After a while a couple of the marshals peeled off to assist other rides and Chris one of the marshals that had been with me for the last 40 miles and I soldiered on. We made pretty respectable time too. Chris knows how to ride in traffic so we really didn’t have to worry about each other.

Somewhere around 45 miles we saw a lone rider about 1/4 mile ahead of us. We caught up to Katie, an American University student, and rode the rest of the way in. The return route included a ride-by of FedEx field (what a monstrosity!) and an unexpected climb up Southern Avenue on DC’s border. When we got to the top, we were treated with a long downhill back toward the Anacostia on Massachusetts Avenue. This downhill is part of the 50 States Ride so I knew it was coming but Katie and Chris didn’t. I’m sure they had a gas flying down the hill.

We made our way back over the 11th Street bridge and went to the after party at the Park Tavern in Canal Park. Pizza and hot spiked cider. Perfecto.

For a brand new ride, I thought this one went pretty well. It’s always fun to explore new territory on a bike, even if it is right next store. The downsides to the ride were few. It was cold and a bit windy but not nearly as cold as the Vasa ride or most of my winter commutes. A few drivers came very close to Chris and me. I think these close passes were intentional. PG County probably doesn’t see this many cyclists in one day very often. A couple of the roads could have used some re-paving some time ago, like maybe, 1974. These nasty parts were only about a mile in total length.

My thanks to Chris for riding most of the ride with me. And with Katie who lifted our spirits for the last ten miles. And special thanks to all the WABA people and volunteers who helped out.

I only took a few pix. They’re on my Flickr page. And some from others are on the WABA Flickr page, too.

October by the Numbers

Thanks to the government shutdown, I did much less bike commuting than usual in October. I rode to work only 11 times for a total of 338 miles. I rode The Mule on one commute and Little and Big Nellie on five commutes each. I did 581 miles of non-commute riding, mostly meanders that involved a stop for coffee. In the process, I finished the Coffeeneuring Challenge. (I am looking forward to this winter’s Eggnoggneuring event.) My longest ride was a 64 mile ride on Big Nellie. So for those of you who are additively challenged, I rode 919 miles during the month.

The biggest difference this month was that I rode Little Nellie, my Bike Friday New World Tourist, 266 miles, more than I have in several months. She came out of the bullpen when The Mule came down with an acute case of broken seat post binder bolt blues. Big Nellie carried me 443 miles. Before its seat post bolt snapped under the weight of its engine, The Mule took me 210 miles. And I finally replaced the saddle on The Mule. It had a broken adjuster bolt and was sagging like an ass hammock. I am sending it out for repair, which means that sometime in December I should have four Brooks leather saddles (three Flyers and a B67) for two bikes. One can never have too many leather saddles.

I have ridden 6,296 miles so far this year, including 148 bike commutes.

I took today off. My bikes are tired.

September by the Numbers

Despite a trip out of town and lots of car-related disruptions, I did a pretty decent amount of riding in September. For the most part, the weather cooperated. I rode 858 miles for the month. I did four metric centuries: the Southern Maryland Century, the 50 States Ride, the Backroads Century, and a ride to Dulles with the Randos. With a few other rides on the weekends, my non-commuting riding totaled 309 miles. The other 549 miles came from 19 commutes, 16 on Big Nellie, my Tour Easy recumbent. I haven’t driven my car to work now in about 3 1/2 months.

The Tour Easy did the bulk of the lifting this month, 609 miles. The Mule, my 20-year-old Specialized Sequoia, racked up 213. Little Nellie, my Bike Friday New World Tourist, contributed but 36 miles.

During the 50 States Ride, probably around the time of the monsoon, I crossed the 5,000 mile mark for the year. I now stand at 5,299 miles with 138 bike commutes.

Today, I was furloughed and didn’t ride to work. I spent the entire day running mostly car-related errands. I hope to get out on the bike tomorrow.

Let’s Ride Two: Fifty States and a Monsoon

Prelude

Last year, the 50 States Ride and the Backroads Century were scheduled for Saturday and Sunday on the same weekend. Being a biker of very little brain I signed up for both and survived to tell about them.

During the 65-mile 50 States Ride, Liza (@ramblingrider) dropped out in Tacoma Park thereby missing out of the joys of Alaska, Oregon, Utah, Wisconsin, Nebraska, Arizona, New Mexico, Idaho, and Connecticut Avenues. She swore she’d ride the whole thing this year, so I agreed to ride along with her. Unlike last year, Lisa did not sign up for Backroads this year. Kristen (@Bobbishaftoe), however, did and asked if I’d ride it with her. Not recalling the ride to be particularly difficult (and proving that I have long term memory issues) I agreed to join her for the metric (65 mile) version.

Fifty States in a Monsoon

After a rude 5:30 wake up, I drove to DC and parked my car about 1 mile uphill from the start of the ride in Adams Morgan. The course is hilly and the forecast called for rain so I was riding The Mule my best bike for both conditions. The forecast called for a long, soaking rain in the mid to late afternoon. I rode down to the start and there were all kinds of people I knew: First, I ran into Mike with whom I used to work. Then I talked with Ryan Sigworth (@ryansigworth) who was a volunteer at the check in desk. Ted (@MrTinDC) and Jean (@jerdling) took off early. We saw Kate (there’s always one Kate) (@girlonabikedc) sneak away into the pack of early departers, too. Jeff, who has ridden with me on a dozen rides over the years, stopped by to say hello. Kevin (@bicyclebug), Lisa, new dad Justin (@jantos), Dave (@darsal), Kirstin (@ultrarunnergirl) and Tom (@ultrarunnerhubz – okay, I made that up) gathered together and started en mess at the back of the crowd. As we pulled away, Felkerino (@dailyrandonneur) and MG (@gypsybug) appeared, disguised as husband and wife bike rider. As usual, they planned to skip a few states in favor of coffee shops.

The start of the course was very different this year. Instead of spiralling around the streets of downtown hitting one stop light after another we picked off a few states then headed east and then south to Capitol Hill. Somewhere along the way Felkerino, MG, Kirstin, and Tom headed off course for espresso. Near Union Station the rest of us missed the unsigned Delaware Avenue. Being dedicated to the task and anal retentives, we circled back for the entirety of Delaware’s magnificent 100 yards of pavement. What a thrill.

The course took us across Capitol Hill and down Independence Avenue where Justin and Dave stopped to help a rider whose rear rack had fallen off and was dragging behind his bike on the pavement. Next we cruised over to Hains Point, a favorite flat ride along the Potomac River. One year not long ago, the course passed by a massive construction project in what is now called Near Southeast DC. Seeing the beautiful Nationals Park at the same location was an indication of how DC is changing for the better. Riding past the Navy Yard a few blocks later was a reminder of another sort.

Once over the Anacostia River, we rode over a whole bunch of tree roots into Anacostia Park where we hit the aptly named Anacostia rest stop. Here we rejoined the espresso club and watched Kate ride away. I think she was on a mission from God.

We launched anew into the hills of Anacostia. Pedal, pedal. Huff and puff. Last year I rode most of the ride with Laurie, a loquacious course marshall. It was nice to fall in with her once again as we rode into the wind up the first hill up Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard. We were rewarded with a tailwind and much funny chatter from Laurie and her entourage as we climbed up Stanton Road and Alabama Avenue. In short order we picked off Texas and were zooming down Massachusetts Avenue at great speed. Most of the riders were trying to stay in the narrow bike lane but I said PSHAW (which is my wont) and got in the main right lane and let ‘er rip. Big fun.

Soon we were back across the Anacostia River and at the mid-ride lunch stop at Eastern Market where Kate was waiting with her gorgeous bike Kermit. I snarfed a chicken burrito and chatted with Kate and Alex (@alexbaca) who was communicating her ass off for the Washington Area Bicyclists Association.

After lunch we did another loop on east Capitol Hill then headed north where abundant hills awaited us. Pedal, pedal, huff, and puff. Damn this city is hilly. Riding up Hawaii wasn’t exactly Haleakala but it sure felt like it.

The ride took us into a bunch of spirals to pick off Colorado, Iowa, and other states of hilly repute. We then reached the third rest stop at the home of Mike (@rattlingfender) and the other Lisa (Eaker), to whom he claims to be married. Mike shouted my arrival (ROOTCHOPPER!!!) causing me great embarrassment and ego inflation. The awesome Rachel (@rachelcannon) from WABA was staffing the rest stop. We made tentative plans to do a ride in October.

We, now rejoined by the espresso crowd, spent way too much time hanging out and were rewarded with the first raindrops of the day shortly after heading out. Along Alaska Avenue the rain began to fall. We entered Rock Creek Park and stopped to don rain gear causing the rain to stop for about 15 minutes.

Along Rock Creek, the espresso gang peeled off for the after party (SLACKERS! This will go on their Permanent records – a little randonneuring pun there). Kevin zoomed on ahead of us and Lisa and I rode as a duo as the skies opened. Nothing like a monsoon, hills, and traffic for a fun day out on the bike.

We passed Kevin at the last rest stop enjoying some rest in the rain. We were now focussed on getting out of this rain. Down we rode to Arizona Avenue with cars all about. I am hereby recommending that we kick Arizona out of the union. At the base of a long hill, we turned onto a side street and started the steep, bumpy assault on Mount AU. Curse you, gravity.

Rejoined by Kevin, we rode a few more hills in the rain and the traffic. Kevin and I took the sidewalk to avoid a road closure. Lisa decided to be a good citizen cyclist and took a detour. Not knowing what happened to her, Kevin and I waited in the rain next to a police station for 10 or 15 minutes before concluding that Lisa was not dead.

Ten soggy minutes later we were done, and celebrating at Mellow Mushroom, site of the post ride party. There were Rachel, Kate, Felkerino, MG, Dave, and many other soggy cyclists. We had ourselves some pizza and hoisted (can you say “hoist” when it’s a plastic cup?) us some beer, still crazy after all these years.

After the party I went to get on the Mule and it’s rear tire was flat. I pumped it up the best I could and rode a mile uphill to the car, hearing the squish of my flattening rear tire all the way.

Despite the rain and hills and the flat tire, I had a great time. I’ve done this ride six times over the last decade. It’s always a great social experience. If it wasn’t for this ride, I wouldn’t know most of the #bikedc people I know. I wouldn’t have seen first hand how all areas of the city have blossomed. The people of DC, especially in Anacostia, never fail to cheer you on and make sure you stay on course. If you haven’t done this ride, DO IT.

Lastly, a tip of my skivvy 22-year old rain hat in thanks to Ryan, Alex, Mike and Lisa, Rachel, and all the other volunteers who made this ride happen. You are awesome.

My pictures are here. Lisa’s blog is over there. Kirstin’s is down yonder. And MG’s blog post is up this way.

March Right Outta Here

March is over. FINALLY!

It wasn’t a very productive month for cycling, mostly for family-related reasons. Also, I wimped out when I thought that the Mount Vernon Trail would be too slippery for safe riding.

I rode 434 miles, 312 on Big Nellie, my Tour Easy recumbent. The remaining 122 were on Little Nellie, my Bike Friday New World Tourist. I have yet to ride The Mule this year. The Mule is tanned, rested and ready.

I only did 15 rides this month. Ten were commutes (8 on Big Nellie and 2 on Little Nellie). The remaining rides ranged from a short 2 ½ mile trip to the hardware store and a 56 ½ mile to the bagel store (in Bethesda). We could really use a decent bagel store in Mount Vernon. Of course, even with a bagel store, we wouldn’t have a railroad trestle above an urban canyon to hang out on while we ate, but you can’t have everything.

The big highlight of the month was the Vasa ride on Saint Patrick’s Day. (Did you know that Saint Patrick drove all the snakes out of Stockholm?) I did most of that ride with Lisa, who has become a regular ride partner these days.

Big Nellie reached a milestone late in the month, hitting 32,000 miles on the odometer. Little Nellie will probably never catch her two siblings who are slugging it out to reach 33,000 miles this year. I expect to hit 10,000 miles on Little Nellie later this spring so that’s not half bad.

My mileage for the year is 1515, or 505 miles per month. April will be another month of intermittent commuting. I have a bunch of lacrosse games to attend and a school musical. (My daughter is a busy second-semester senior in high school.)

The highlight of April will almost certainly come this week when the cherry blossoms finally bloom. And there is no better way to see them than on a bike.

A Sure Sign of Spring

After a week off the bike, I was dying to get outside on a warm-ish spring day. So I headed to DC to check out the cherry blossoms. I figured with the nice weather I’d probably run into some of my new bike buddies. Six miles from home, Ted and Jean came rolling by. Jean didn’t spot me and kept riding but Ted turned around and we talked for several minutes, as Jean faded into the distance.

After our chat, I rolled northward through hoards of tourists in Old Town Alexandria. On bike touristy days, the Mount Vernon Trail is usually a nightmare of clueless out-of-towners riding painfully slowly, stopping in the middle of the trail or doing button hooks. Today was not so bad. I made it to DC on Little Nellie in about an hour.

At Gravelley Point I spotted the first sign of spring: a bike tourist on her way up the coast. The Mount Vernon Trail is part of US Bicycle Route 1, the Eastcoast Greenway and Adventure Cycling’s Atlantic Coast and Potomac Highlands routes. Bike tourists are always interesting to talk with and Courtney was no exception. She’s on her way from Charleston SC to Maine where she will begin a J-O-B. (How we hate that word!) Good lick Courtney. Great talking with you.

Courtney the Bike Tourist - Take Me With You!!!!! — Courtney the Bike Tourist – Take Me With You!!!!!

While talking with Courtney I looked across the Potomac River and I could see that the cherry blossoms were not yet in bloom. I rode to DC anyway to check out the scene. The city was SWARMING with tourists!!!! In addition to people wandering around the Tidal Basin in a vain search for a white bloom, there were mobs of people wanding the National Mall where the annual kite festival was going on. The crowds were no doubt made bigger by the fact that March Madness is residing at the Verizon Center just a few blocks north of the mall. It amazes me that people actually drive their cars to the mall on a day like today. I followed a car with Louisiana plates for the better part of a mile along the mall. Dude, dump the car. It’s useless!

After dodging my 1,233rd tourist, I got in line with a Segway tour and made an escape on 14th Street. Once over the bridge, I was treated to a tailwind on the Mount Vernon Trail. I saw a woman on a bike with her handlebar basket over flowing with flowers. It’s Easter weekend or she’s got a hot date. Or maybe she’s biking to a wake. Who knows.

Not far from where I saw them earlier, I came upon Ted and Jean again. We stopped and chatted across the Parkway from the Belle Haven bald eagle nest. As we did, Ted spotted a red tailed hawk in a nearby tree. The bird took to the wing and gave us a nice show. Jean showed off her new bike, a red Specialized beauty. Bike envy!!!

Shortly after seeing Ted and Jean I left the Mount Vernon Trail and headed up the Park Terrace hill. A man wearing bunny ears was posing for a photo with his kids in their front yard. He asked me if I was going to make it to the top of the hill and I said I was (I wasn’t even out of breath). I don’t think he realized how silly he looked with the ears on his head.

I stopped at Sherwood Hall Gourmet to pick up a Gary’s Lunchbox, my favorite sammich. After lunch, I changed the rear tube on Little Nellie. My rear tube has had a slow leak for over a month. I pulled the tube out, inflated it, and tried to find the leak. No dice. I spent 15 minutes listening and running my hand over the tube. I gave up and put a new tube in. I suspect the old one has a leaky valve.

Another sign of spring is yardwork. I spent 2 hours after lunch pulling purple weeds out of my gardens beds and my lawn. Even with annoying yard work, spring is way better than winter.

Some more pix of the day’s events here.

February by the Numbers

I biked 494 miles in February. All but 48 miles of that was bike commuting. I rode to and from work 15 times, 8 times on Little Nellie and 7 on Big Nellie.

For the year I have ridden 1,084 miles with 34 bike commutes. I don’t think I’ve ridden more than 32 miles in a day.

As the weather improves, my bike commuting pace will slow down a bit. I have another college safari to do at the end of the month, plus a full slate of high school girl’s lacrosse games, a business trip, three nights of a high school musical, a college student move out, and various and sundry high school graduation events. I hope to average at least ten bike commutes per month.

Oh, and I forgot, as I was writing this, a weather forecast appeared on the TV. We are supposed to get snow next week. I may get to try out those snowshoes I bought after Snowmaggedon after all.

Great Caesar’s Heron

The ride in was pretty darn nice. The roads were still somewhat wet out so Little Nellie got the call again. Temps were in the 40s so I gave the holey sweater and my Marmot Precip jacket a rest. After yesterday’s soggy ride home, it was apparent that the waterproofing on my Precip jacket and pants is history. Time to look for a sale at REI for replacements. I have beat the crap out of these two pieces of clothing for the last 3 years. Good stuff.

I read in the Post that February and March are bald eagle breeding season around these parts. I have only once seen a pair of bald eagles this winter so I am not expecting a lot of eaglet action when spring arrives. There was no bald eagle at the Belle Haven nest today. In fact other that a stupifying number of geese there wasn’t much in the way of big-ish waterfowl at all. That is until I came upon a big, scruffy looking great blue heron on the river bank right next to the wooden bridge that takes the Mount Vernon Trail under the TR bridge. (Question: why is it so important that the Key and Memorial Bridges look classy but the TR Bridge looks like a rusty piece of crap? Show Teddy some love please.) This bird was impressive so I decided to stop and walk back with my camera. He was on to me. I must have had birdparazzi written all over my face. He started to walk into the underbrush away from me. He got to the edge of the river and took off about 2 feet above the water. By this point he was too far to get a decent picture but the sight of him in flight made my day. Herons combine awkward and graceful in a way that few other animals do.

Work was less than intense today. I left a few minutes early. I could have ridden the whole way home without any lights but in the interest of making sure I could be seen I turned them all on as usual. No problem with ninjas tonight. Just hoards of runners. Patriots Day is less than two months away!

During the day friend of the blog, Nancy Duley told me that a police officer was shot in Old Town Alexandria today, about 5 blocks from my commute route. The last I heard he was in critical condition. The assailant was chased and crashed his car on Fort Hunt Road about three miles from my house. He was taken into custody. My bike commute takes me through Old Town Alexandria twice each day.

Another friend of the blog, Kate C., is a police officer in DC. She will be riding her bike from Richmond to DC as part of the Police Unity Tour. This event raises money for the memorial to fallen law enforcement personnel. You can read more about it on her blog. Or you can skip straight to her fundraising page.

As for the ride home, it was a piece of cake. I left work a little early so I was in daylight all the way home. I turned on my lights just to been seen. The Mount Vernon Trail was filled with runners in their shorts. Some of them were moving pretty fast. Patriots Day is less than 2 months away!

I could never be a police officer. Just the thought of doing a night time traffic stop gives me the willies. Friend of the blog, Kate C., however, is a police officer in DC. In a few weeks, she will be riding from Richmond to DC as part of the Policy Unity tour. It raises monet for a memorial to fallen law enforcement personnel.