Get Lost, March

March, and I mean this with all sincerity, has sucked. As I write this, it has been raining for two straight days, except for the last half hour during which it has been sleeting like a bitch. Good riddance.

The before picture. Conveniently, it’s also my “Goodbye March” picture.

In addition to depicting pretty much exactly how I feel about March 2014, this is also a picture with a medical purpose. If you look closely at the nail, you will see it is deformed. Just behind the nail is some swelling. When this finger gets aggravated, that swelling blooms into a big painful cyst. (The cyst deformed the nail.) If I bump this finger when the cyst is inflamed against anything hard, it hurts a whole bunch. As it turns out, the cyst is somehow related to arthritis and a bone spur in the adjacent knuckle. So tomorrow morning I am having both the bone spur and the cyst removed. Later this week I’ll be riding in North Carolina with a splint on that finger. Let’s just say, it’s going to be interesting.

It is really important for me to get this taken care of. I’ve been dealing with it for several years now. A painful middle-finger cyst can impede the sharing of important information with my fellow road users, particularly those driving BMWs and Range Rovers. Once the surgery wound heals, my finger will be all set for the busy DC riding season.

I was expecting to get a local anesthetic for my surgery but it seems as though they are going to knock me out. I expect to be in a post-op fog tomorrow. This means that my bike riding for March is complete. The numbers are pretty lame. I rode 484 miles in March, 312 of this was on 11 bike commutes. As usual the Mule did the bulk of the work, 301 total miles with 213.5 miles from seven commutes. Little Nellie picked up the remaining five commutes and a total of 169.5 miles. Big Nellie was confined to the basement. I did one ride down there for what I guess was about 13.5 miles.

I completed the Errandonee Challenge. My long ride was a 40-mile errandonnee on a Saturday. I also did the Halv-vasa ride last weekend. I did several fun sessions of snow shoveling with my wovel. Finally, I started doing yoga again and actually did a head stand yesterday. I used the couch to spot myself. I didn’t stay vertical for long, maybe 15 seconds or so, but it was actually pretty comfortable.

For the year, I have ridden to work 27 times, which I was surprised to discover is only four times fewer than last year. I have racked up 1293.5 miles so far this year.

Two Robins, One Dump Truck, and The Mule

My pump, having magically cured itself, was working once more. The tires on The Mule were fully inflated and I was off with a nice tailwind to commiserate with the caffeine addicts at Friday Coffee Club.

I left in the pitch dark which took some getting used to in light of the fact that I was still half asleep. The sunrise over the river was a thin line of purple. (You’ll have to close your eyes and imagine because I didn’t stop and take a picture.)

It was too early for the drop off line at St. Mary’s School of the Holy SUVs which meant I could ride through Old Town on Royal Street. I did Idaho stops at the stop signs. No one was harmed. I didn’t even get a rise out of the police who watched me from their car at Montgomery Street.

Clear of Old Town and back on the Mount Vernon Trail, I entered commuter trance mode. A dozen robins were cavorting and squabbling next to the trail. One robin seemed to attack another and they launched themselves into the air across the trail. Could have been zipless bird sex or just two drunken birds having it out. I was lucky to be looking down as they crossed my path and collided with my helmet. Feathers, birds, and my trance went every which way. Violent bird chaos is a strange way to wake up.

I arrived at Friday Coffee Club to see a crowded house. Nobody sang “Don’t Dream It’s Over.” The conversation was entertaining though. DC Councilmember and candidate for the Democratic nomination for mayor Tommy Wells was there along with two staffers. (Rumor has it he was trying to catch a deluge in paper cup.) I talked to Theresa his campaign finance director. (I’d make a joke here about inappropriate fund raising but the incumbent is in the middle of scandal and I’m afraid someone might think I was serious.) Michael showed up with a hot chocolate with whipped cream and a jumbo chocolate chip cookie. Breakfast of champions. Theresa looked dolefully at her half eaten bran muffin. TGIF. (Thank God It’s Fiber.)

@bobbishaftoe wore her amazing winter head gear. Despite the fact that my camera was not working properly I am posting the picture here for posterity. The folks at the nervous hospital say she likes French fried p’taters.

Headwear inspired by “Put Me in the Zoo”

My ride to Rosslyn featured a near perfect ride across the TR Bridge. I was 3/4ths of the way across when I had to stop for a DC-bound bike commuter.

Turning onto Lynn Street at the Rosslyn Circle of Death I stopped even though I had a walk signal and the cross traffic had a red light. Sure enough, an prehistoric dump truck blew through the red light to make a right turn. If I hadn’t stopped that would have been the end of me.

Once at the office, I dismounted and kissed the ground.

After a day of economic research that couldn’t be beat, I headed for home into a 20 mile per hour headwind. I felt hungry and sleepy. Tree pollen levels are high so I suspect my allergies are picking up. Considering the fact that my knee, hips and back are once again on the fritz, I expect to have a wretched weekend. Try not to do the same.

Errandonnee #10 Summary

Category: Either coffee or community meeting, depending on which gets me all the glory

Miles: 15 (one way)

Observation: If the gods have a choice between having you collide with birds or a dump truck, pray for the birds.

The Introverted Advocate Rides Again

(I’m a day behind in my blog. You’ll just have to wait until tomorrow for today’s exciting tale.)

It was a pretty typical Wednesday in March. Temperatures in the 40s in the morning would give rise to violent weather in the evening and overnight. I took what nature gave me and set out on The Mule for a ride to work at sunrise. The sun did not disappoint.

I was in a trance for most of my ride to work. The only notable event occurred when I passed one of the Mount Vernon Trail loonies near the airport. This was the guy who was tossing debris and yelling at the traffic on the adjacent parkway near Belle Haven Park south of Old Town Alexandria on Tuesday. Today, he was walking against traffic and waving an American flag. Henceforth I shall call him The Patriot. Come to think of it he does look a little like Bill Belichick.

The approaching storm front made for much radar monitoring in the afternoon. Work. Radar. Worry. Repeat. About 3 p.m. the ominous cello music began in my head. You could see a thin line of really nasty stuff headed toward DC. (I think we’re gonna need a bigger bike.) I hit the road just before 5 and had only to deal with a headwind mixed with few sprinkles here and there.

After much fast (well, for me anyway) pedaling I pulled into the Mount Vernon government center for a meeting regarding the re-paving and re-striping of Sherwood Hall Lane (SHL), a busy two-lane street that connect US 1 with two other north/south roads, Fort Hunt Road and the George Washington Memorial Parkway.

The bike parking was pathetic which pretty much tells you all you need to know about Fairfax County’s attitude toward bicycling. I locked The Mule to the post of a parking sign and went inside.

The room was half full but became packed within an hour. Mount Vernon has the highest percentage of retirees in Fairfax County and most of them seemed to be in attendance. Tables showed maps of the proposals, all of which included bike lanes on both sides of the proposed re-striped SHL. According to Charlie Strunk, Fairfax County’s bicycle coordinator, the bike lanes are part of the Fairfax County Bicycle Master Plan and are paid for out of the county bicycling budget. The road varies in width so some sections have parking on both sides, some have a middle turn lane and parking on both sides, and some have either the middle turn lane or parking on both sides of the road.

The VDOT and Fairfax County folks in charge of the project gave a presentation about what they were doing. SHL gets repaved every ten years. The re-striping is intended as a traffic calming strategy needed for three reasons:

Police and local politicians had identified numerous safety concerns
The road is very wide which results in frequent speeding
Traffic volume has increased because US 1 is gridlocked during rush hour and on weekends. This gridlock is caused by the extensive residential development and an increase in commuters to Fort Belvoir to the south.

During and after the presentation, citizens commented and asked questions. It was interesting to see how many people feel that parking in front of their house is an entitlement, even though most of them have access to on-street parking a few yards away on a side street. Some of the audience remarks were snarky, some procedural (this is DC, afterall), a few were downright inane (“Why do you need two bike lanes?), and some were thoughtful. My favorite was this one:

“A man on PCP drove up on my neighbors lawn. If she had been in her front yard, she could have been killed! We need that parking lane as a buffer!!”

What I was pleasantly surprised by was the number of people from the bicycling community including my neighbor and fellow blogging bike commuter and Friday Coffee Club attendee Jeff who showed up in support of the bike lanes. There were three or four people from Fairfax Advocates for Better Bicycling (FABB). A bike commuter (She’s fast. She passes me every day.) who is a member of Potomac Pedalers spoke respectfully about the need for the bike lane for bike commuters and club rides.

Some children from Hollin Meadows School were the icing on the cake. They read a statement that explain how they wanted to be able to walk to school. They need a crosswalk and a traffic signal to do so. (Go kids!)

Shortly thereafter a homeowner said that he opposed a traffic light because it would lower his property value. That’s when I kind of lost my introversion and spoke up.

“Thank you for making these changes. I am not a member of Potomac Pedalers. I own three cars. I ride my bike to work every day and to use it to do errands on the weekends. I don’t think it’s too much to ask to be able to do so safely in my neighborhood. Secondly, 23 months ago at noon on a crystal clear day, my wife had the audacity to walk across Sherwood Hall Lane. She was run over by an SUV. Frankly, I care a whole lot more about safety than about property values.”

Jeff gave me a you-done-good nod. Then he spoke. It turns out his kids go to Hollin Meadows too.

A couple other concerned bicyclists approached me. One took my contact information for a followup meeting of the Mount Vernon Bicycle Advocacy Cabal.

A reporter asked me for my information as well. (If somebody sees my name in a story, please let me know.)

The project team agreed to extend the period of public comment for one week. My guess is that they will swap some turn lanes for parking but the bike lanes will stay. Time will tell.

I walked out into the cold, dark, windy night. The temperature had dropped about twenty degrees and the wind was roaring. Thankfully, I had only ½ mile to go before home. I made it in a breeze.

Errandonnee Summary

Errandonee #7:

Category: Work

Miles: 15

Observation: Sunrises are a drug.

Errandonnee #8:

Category: Community Meeting

Miles: 15

Observation: Thanks to the people who spoke up about the bicycle lanes at the meeting. My guess is that there were about 10 people who spoke up for bicycle and pedestrian issues.

Driving Little Nellie

Yesterday, while doing day two of yoga, I felt my back pop. It felt like one of my vertebrae went back into place. It felt pretty good. After my back surgery and eight weeks of misery many years ago, I was lying on the floor and each one of my vertebrae clicked into place. It had never happened before and hasn’t happened since. It was a totally surreal and relaxing moment. So having just one pop was a nice reminder.

Today was yoga day number three. My flexibility is still pretty sad. During one exercise my neck started making crunchy noises as I turned my head. A little oil, please Dorothy.

Instead of riding to work, I put Little Nellie, my Bike Friday, in the trunk of our 2004 Accord and drove it to a dealer in North Arlington for some TLC. I was a bit worried about lifting the bike and getting it in and out of the trunk but my back tolerated it just fine. The second test was riding the 3+ miles to my office on the Custis Trail. Bike Friday’s are tough on the back. My back didn’t mind at all. In fact, it felt pretty darn good.

My back did stiffen slightly during the afternoon but loosened up when I walked around a bit. The ride back to the dealer featured a nasty headwind and the big hill out of Rosslyn on the Custis but my back was okay.

When I got home, I pulled Little Nellie out of the trunk of the car. The chain got all discombobulated from folding the bike. I wrestled with the bike to free the chain from where it had gotten hung up between the chainrings and a folding joint. This all should have hurt my back but I didn’t even get a twinge.

My back finally went on protest after dinner. Sitting in the hard chairs in the kitchen seem to really aggravate my lower spine. A little walking around loosened things up again.

I seem to be getting better at last. The question is the yoga helping or would I have gotten better anyway.

Tomorrow is yet another test: a full 29+ mile commute in the cold.

No guts, no glory.

The Best Thing Is that It’s Over

As bike riding goes, January was to be endured. I rode about 465 miles of which about 111 was on my trainer in the basement. I say “about” because I really can only guess at how far I rode by the time involved. I did manage to get in 10 commutes totaling 265 1/2 miles. Leaving merely three outdoor rides of 79 1/2 miles on the weekends. In January 2013 I rode 585 miles including 18 commutes. And all of my riding was outdoors.

The Mule bore most of the load this month, 318 1/2 miles. Big Nellie did 131 miles, but only 20 outdoors. Little Nellie with only 6 1/2 miles is feeling neglected.

It has been unusually cold here in DC this year. As far as bike riding is concerned, this is actually a pretty normal January. I’d have ridden more outside but for the ice and snow on the Mount Vernon Trail which the National Park Service owns and refuses to clear. The typical excuse is that it is used by cross country skiers but I didn’t see a single one on the MVT all month. The NPS’s refusal to clear the trail is really about priorities and budgets. At least nearby Arlington County decided to clear its trails (after much shaming by area cyclists).

On the bright side, the days are getting longer. We’ll be done with ninja dodging soon.

Cartuning at the Rootchopper Institute

It’s been a pretty sad week here at the Rootchopper Institute. Actually, sad is a synonym for effing cold. I, for one, remain happy (because that’s what Argentinian malbeck does to me). I’d still be riding to work but for the sheets of ice and packed snow on the Mount Vernon Trail. I can handle the cold itself but the idea of crashing several times coming and going puts me off for some reason. That and the fact that my speed would drop to the single digits, which just happens to match the temperature around the time I would leave home. (This summer I plan to ride at the speed of temperature just for kicks. 85 on the MVT! Woot.) Four hours of bike commuting per day is a bit much, don’t you think.

So the truth of it is that I missed Friday Coffee Club today. There wasn’t any cake but @BobbiShaftoe showed up after her triumphant bike ride at the South Pole a week ago. Perhaps we should save the debriefing until an oppressively hot and muggy day in July.

The one good thing about the weather is that the back yard has about 3 inches of snow. So I could finally test out the snowshoes I bought on cabin-fever-induce impulse during Snowmaggedon, a massive DC snowstorm a couple of years back. Getting them on was a bit awkward but stomping around the backyard was a real treat. I should have bought some years ago.

My next winter-related acquisition will be a wovel. It’s a huge snow shovel that is connected to a big wheel. It’s very clever. It uses physics almost as effectively as @BobbiShaftoe when she’s was leaving me in the dust riding the hills of the Backroads Century. My friend Rocky has one (a wovel, not a @BobbiShaftoe). I realize the name Rocky evokes images of a muscular Italian but “Rocky” is a corruption of Rakesh. And Rakesh has been known to eat quiche now and then. Like me, he’s an economist and he figured out how to use his wovel the other day without making a single assumption. (Inside econ humor there, sorry.) Actually Rocky is the kind of educated consumer Sy Sims would have loved. If he bought it, it’s worth buying.

Last night I did actually ride albeit on Big Nellie mounted on a trainer in the basement. Not much of a workout, I’m afraid. Big Nellie on a wind trainer with a novel in my hands doesn’t really make it compared to outdoors. Just to keep it interesting I ride ladders. After every page I shift up until I max out my gears then I work my way down. Those few minutes in top gear are actually pretty nasty.

So how did I get to work, you ask? I drove. It was a nice change of pace, especially considering that most of the federal workers stayed home. One of the few things I look forward to when I car commute is listening to music.

This week’s cartunes were a live double CD from the Crossroads guitar festival, Neil Young Live at the Cellar Door, and a set of five studio Beach Boys albums, including Pet Sounds. The Neil Young CD is by far the best of the lot. I could listen to the Cellar Door version of “Expecting to Fly” on a continuous loop. Crossroads is a whole lot of different guitarists performing live. It’s a mixed bag but probably a good CD for a long road trip. The Beach Boys helped me attitudinally adjust to the arctic air we have here this week. Most of the first four albums are filled with songs with idiotic lyrics, except for several space-taking instrumentals (played, no doubt, by the Wrecking Crew of studio musicians rather than the Beach Boys). Most of Pet Sounds, Brian Wilson’s response to Rubber Soul, is a distinct improvement. The Phil Spector wall of sound is all but gone and the lyrics aren’t as insipid as Surfer Girl. Musically, it may be some of the Wrecking Crew’s best work. Pet Sounds inspired a lot of other bands, most notably the Beatles who used it as motivation when doing Sergeant Pepper. Truth be told, I liked only about half of it. The rest sounded like Brian Wilson was overreaching.

As far as biking is concerned, I won’t be overreaching until the trails are clear. Which means another sad week at the Institute lies ahead.

Nobody Comes Here Anymore – It’s Too Crowded

For the second anniversary of Friday Coffee Club, King Espresso and Coffeenuer ordered a cake. (Thanks guys) Combine caffeine, cake, and bike commuters and what do you get: a mob!!! Parking was a bit tight.

As usual, it was great to see so many folks. A few regulars were AWOL but @bobbieshaftoe gets a pass since she was riding a bike in Antarctica. This kind of takes the whole complaining about the cold thing off the table for the rest of winter, don’t you think.

Friday Coffee Club is open to everyone. It runs from roughly 7:30 to 9:00 at M. E. Swing’s at 17th and G Streets, Northwest. The coffee is superb. They also have tea, of course. And pastries including sugar encrusted pastry bombs, which Rachel insists on calling fritters.

Ninjas and the Golden Years

It’s been a while since I had a close encounter with a ninja so I suppose I was overdue. It was Friday night and well after sunset. I was riding south on the Mount Vernon Trail. As I approached the Dyke Marsh bridge, the headlights of the cars on the adjacent George Washington Memorial Parkway were shining directly into my eyes. Since I was riding The Mule, I dipped my head so that the visor on my helmet would shade my eyes from the glare. Then I saw something move just ahead of me on the left side of the trail. It was a woman in a dark red sweat suit facing me. The only reason I saw her was the car lights reflecting off the white stripes on the side of her outfit. I started to brake and immediately in front of me was a man in a matching suit. His was black or dark blue. He was turning, doing a button hook in the lane only a few feet in front of me. I saw the stripes on his suit.

“OH!”

That’s what he said. In addition to having situational and sartorial awareness he was loquacious! I snapped on my brakes and he pivoted and stepped to the other side of the path away from me. My left foot briefly touched ground as I slowed to a near stop. Alarmed, I said something to the effect of “What are you doing!” In retrospect, I am pretty impressed that I didn’t blurt out a stream of f-bombs. There just wasn’t time. He and Red Sweat Suit staggered off up the path.

Rather than confront the Sweat Suits I continued on home.

It was an annoying end to a pretty good day.

In the morning, I went to the second anniversary Friday Coffee Club. Even without many of the regulars, the joint was jumping. Word must have gotten out that there was going to be a cake. Bike commuters are a lot like graduate students; they’ll do anything for free food. Add coffee and you’ve got yourselves some vampires at a blood bank.

I went five for five this week, commuting on all five days. Okay, I cheated a bit. On Tuesday, I drove to a car dealership in Arlington. I rode from there to work, about 12 miles shorter than my normal commute each way. Still, I managed to get in 120 miles with my commuting.

Another significant off-the-bike event was the two-day retirement seminar I attended. I’ve been eligible to retire from the government for a few months so I need to get my ducks in a row. For many reasons I will continue to work until the end of September. Sometime this summer I will re-assess my situation. As it stands right now, I’m getting paid to do research and ride a bike along the Potomac River 30 miles per day. Not a bad gig, if you ask me.

The retirement seminar was pretty depressing. There’s a fairly decent chance that I will end up old, blind, toothless, demented, and alone. Longevity is way overrated, if you ask me.

My plan for my final year of life is simple. When I sense the end is near, I’ll buy an electric assist tadpole trike. I’ll hang two panniers off the rack on the back. I’ll fill one with clothes and bike stuff and the other with cash, marijuana (it will be legal and it weighs very little), cigarettes, and fine scotch whiskey and head for the sun. I’ll probably need some sort of navigation aid, but I figure Google will have that figured out by 2020.

I’ll die in a collision with a ninja outside a retirement community near Pie Town, New Mexico.

When it comes to retirement, you’ve got to have a plan.

Friday Coffee Club: Mary and Rhoda (and Lou, Too)

Today was Friday which normally means Friday Coffee Club for me. Friday Coffee Club (yes, it’s capitalized) is a gathering of D.C. area bicycle commuters at M.E.Swing’s House of Caffeine. For coffee drinkers, Swing’s is a more important landmark than that big white house located a block away. It is ground zero for my weekly case of caffeine jitters.

Alas, I didn’t go to Friday Coffee Club this week. It was raining and the rain was freezing as it does when temperatures fall below 32. So I didn’t ride to work. Normally this would piss me off but my family and I have tickets to see comedian Jim Gaffigan tonight so I wouldn’t have ridden anyway. The intersection of family event and bad biking weather is usually a null set so today was a sort of harmonic convergence for me. (Make a Venn diagram out of that mess!)

As you might imagine, I was pretty pleased by this turn of events until, that is, I started getting tweets from Friday Coffee Clubbers. Today was the return of the Mary and Rhoda show. No, Mary Tyler Moore and Valerie Harper didn’t make a celebrity appearance but Rachel and Kate did. Rachel and Kate were once roommates until Kate went to grad school on the lone prairie. Whilst living under the same roof, they put forth a constant stream of conversation that fell somewhere between witty repartee and inane banter. Hence, the comparison to Mary and Rhoda. (Truth be told, we still can’t figure out who is Mary and who is Rhoda.) Regardless of what you call it, it always cracks me up and I miss their verbal goofiness.

As all viewers of the show know, Mary and Rhoda are often joined by Phyllis (played hereabouits by Katie Ann – under protest). Today, however, they were joined by Lou as played by Katie (upper left in the picture). Katie lacks the paunch, bald head, and other physical characteristics of Ed Asner but apparently has a bottle in her desk drawer and, despite the fact that she herself is infinitely spunky, hates spunk.

Tweets and pictures came over the interwebs making me sad I missed today’s assembly. One picture showed Kate and Katie eating biopsies off an apple fritter. Ladies, this is just not done. If you are going to eat of the fruit of the tree of carbness, you must go all in. Then at least you’ll have hips like Lou Grant.

In the past, I may have given readers the impression that I go to Friday Coffee Club for the coffee. While the coffee is indeed top notch, the real reason I go is my name is Ted Baxter.

(Pictures by Rachel.)

Your Own Personal Wind Chill

Yesterday the temperature was 8 degrees with a wind chill of minus fugetaboutit. So I decided to work from home. It was a wise choice. I advised my friend Lisa not to ride but she did anyway and had a blast. This motivated me to get off my couch and ride to the office this morning.

It took an extra ten minutes to get dressed. I kept forgetting layers and losing track of things. When I left the house the temperature was a balmy 11. Since I have had prior experience with frostbite while exercising, I wanted to be extra careful not to ride too fast, lest I generate my own personal wind chill factor. As it turned out, with all the clothing I had on I couldn’t pedal fast if I wanted to.

There was roadside ice in the neighborhoods near my home, but the Mount Vernon Trail was all but ice-free. After three or four miles the tips of my fingers clad in glove liners and mittens started to hurt. Uh oh. I flexed them and hid them from the wind by sticking them behind my handlebar bag. As the temperature rose into the high teens, the pain subsided. The rest of the ride in was actually quite comfortable.

I saw a guy riding south on the trail with nothing on his head. I wish I had taken a picture of him because he is a MORON.

When I arrived at work my bike computer display stopped working. It’s just too cold for electronics.

After a fun day of editing papers (zzzzz), I began getting dressed for the ride home. 20 minutes later I was on the road. It was 29 and stayed there all the way home. There’s something about exercising in cold air that is both exhilarating and exhausting.

So I’ll be back at it tomorrow.

Since there seems to be some interest in these things, here’s what I wore:

Head: Jacket hood over synthetic balaclava over a thin synthetic Buff neck gaiter

Hands: Glove liners under polartec (?) mittens

Torso: synthetic short sleeve base layer, cotton t-shirt, wool holey sweater, Marmot Precip jacket

Arms: Under the sweater and the jacket I wore synthetic arm warmers

Legs: Synthetic briefs, Smartwool socks that covered my calves, tights, Marmot Precip pants (to cut the wind)

Feet: S/W socks, Lake mountain biking shoes with chemical hand warmers on top, Performance fleece lined winter boots

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