Tag: Bike to Work Day

Bike to Work Day 2016

I did not feel very good when I woke up but I decided to ride to work anyway. It was Bike to Work Day, after all. Slowly.

I poked along, coughing fits one mile, calm breathing the next. I rolled into the Alexandria Pir Stop at City Hall Plaza in Old Town. I saw Reba, Ed #1, and Kathy chatting and took their picture. Jonathan was reading off raffle winners. And Reba won something, something

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Ed, Reba, and Kathy
Monaco. Holy cow! Then we heard him repeat the prize:  one night at the Hotel Monaco in Old Town. So Reba’s dreams of being a Bond girl went up in smoke. Truth be told, it’s a pretty darn nice prize.

Onward to Rosslyn. I was a bit surprised that the bike commuter traffic was so normal. Then at the north end of Old Town, I convoy of women on bikes, suspiciously without panniers or backpacks made a turn across my path. I followed them. In the course of a short conversation with one of the riders, I learned it was a tour group of ten women, aged 50 and above, who started riding in St. Augustine, Florida. They were taking a couple of rest days to see the DC sights before continuing on: destination Bar Harbor, Maine. They were traveling with a company called Women Tours.

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Bike Train to Maine
Soon they left me behind and I continued northward. On one of the flyover bridges at National Airport an on coming cyclists caught my eye. Short blazing red hair and distinctive panniers with a pattern on them and pronounced handles sticking straight up. It was Ultrarunnergirl, who never seems to come to Virginia on her bike. I started waving like and idiot and she went to give me a high five but, me having absolutely no cool, didn’t even make a decent attempt.

Fail.

On I rode to Rosslyn as the volume of bike commuters picked up (i.e. blew by me). Two Lance Mamilots came roaring down the trail swerving among the bike commuters, many of whom may have been first timers. My only words to the Lances is that you are self absorb asses and it’s riders like you that put off people who want to ride to work safely.

I somehow made it up the Rosslyn hill into the Rosslyn pit stop. There I ran I

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Nelle
nto WABA‘s Nelle (she’s the awesome Deputy Director) and ever jovial Dana who gave me my BTWD shirt. I won a water bottle then grabbed another from a couple of other tables. One was from Bruce Deming who specializes in personal injury cases involving bicyclists. I talked about two cases involving contributory negligence, one that allowed the victim to make a claim, the other (a fatality) that left the victim’s survivors with nothing but memories.

I had three cups of Java Shack coffee, the first coffee I had had since Sunday. They made me feel euphoric. I rode the sidewalk to the office and in my hyper attentive state avoided being hit by a red light runner at 19th and Lynn. I yelled at him to no avail.

The bike room at work had 2 bikes when I arrived. Lame. Two co-workers came in a few minutes later, but didn’t sign up for Bike to Work Day. Seriously. If free and convenient is not enough, I don’t know what is.

At 11 am the coffee wore off and I powered down like the robot on Lost in Space. Thud. Another cup had little effect. Lunch revived me somewhat and, after work, I headed to NE DC to pick up my packet for Sunday’s DC Bike Ride. I met Ed #1 again. He gets around. Then Nelle, again. We’ve run into each other four times in the last two weeks. People are starting to talk. (“Nelle, who is that creepy old dude?” People can be mean.)

I ran into Charmaine who I haven’t seen since our North Carolina bike adventure two years ago. We sat and chatted for over a half hour allowing me to recover from the 18 or so miles I had already ridden.

I also briefly ran into Ed #2, and Ted and Jean, who are Friday Coffee Clubbers.

I had a token for a free beer but nobody wanted it, even a stranger I approached. All my beer drinking #bikedc friends were probably at BTWD happy hours.

I left at 6:30 headed for home, deliberately going so slow I was annoying myself. I made it home after 8 pm through dozens of clouds of midges. I was covered with the darn things.

Tomorrow I get up and work the East Beer booth at the Tour de Fat event. Unfortunately the weather forecast calls for rain. I will do my best to present a cheery face. Instead of riding to the event, I’ll be driving to my wife’s office a mile away and ride from there.

Super big thanks to all the people who got up early and worked on behalf of #bikedc. You done good. Special thanks to Nelle who put in a monster day, working two events.

 

 

 

 

 

Bike to Work Day 2013

The weather report was perfect. I had to work. Despite the fact that I didn’t get home from a business trip on Thursday until 10 p.m., I decided to ride to work for the 61st time this year on Friday. 14,600+ people decided to give it a go as well. Friday was Bike to Work Day here in DC.

Little Nellie was in the shop. Big Nellie would be hard to park if my colleagues participated in the festivities of the day. The Mule got the call.

As soon as I pulled it down from its hook, I could tell the headset was loose. I only had one headset wrench so I snugged it up and hoped for the best. The steering felt off but it worked. Onward! (Nothing says Bike to Work Day like a good crash, I always say.) Instead of taking the 3-mile bee line, a diagonal route to the Mount Vernon Trail, I took the 4-mile route, straight to the MVT and then a 90 degree turn toward DC. Shortly after making the turn I spotted a group of people under a canopy. It was the good folks from Spokes Etc., my local bike store, staffing a pit stop. I had registered for the Rosslyn pit stop was near my office, but I pulled in to say hello and asked them to check my headset.

After thanking them, I was off headed northwest on the MVT. No bald eagles could be seen,but the warm weather and the green canopy made for a perfect ride. In Old Town, I took South Royal Street, which I don’t normally do, so that I could swing by the Old Town pit stop at Royal and East King Streets in front of City Hall. It was hopping at a little after 7. Rather than get caught up in the festivities, I took a couple of pix and headed out again. I only had so much room in my panniers for free handouts after all.

From Alexandria to DC, I found myself in one cluster of riders after another. Mostly they were newbies. I could tell this because regular riders are usually faster than me and I was doing a lot of passing. Everyone was having a good time and riding with care except for two impatient riders on racing bikes who sped past me without warning. One did this as I was passing a rider nearly forcing me to crash. I yelled out at him, “You know better!” I wanted to say more, using words and phrases that began with “F” but I didn’t. (Next Monday, I’m letting the F dogs run!)

Along the way I saw the French Braid Girl and the Hardware Store Guy. It’s nice to see that my regulars were not deterred by the crowds. I expected to find a back up at the one lane underpass at the Memorial Bridge, but it was a only ten-second wait to get through.

Unlike last year, the Rosslyn pit stop had few people that I knew. Many of my #bikedc associates were at Freedom Plaza in DC or Friday Coffee Club. I did run into Mark (@dismalscientist) and Shawn (@Shawnofthedread). Also, Bob (Don’t Call Me Rachel) Cannon (@rcannon100) was there volunteering at the swag table. Good to see them all.

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Bob Cannon at the Rosslyn Pit Stop

Instead of heading for home after work, I headed up a long hill on Wisconsin Avenue to Cathedral Heights where my daughter goes to high school. Her final choral concert started at 7. With time to kill and a belly to fill, I ate some pizza and beer at 2 Amys. I would have gone elsewhere, but I didn’t want to end up riding back up the hill and getting all sweaty. Mrs. Rootchopper (not to mention the rest of the audience) might not approve.

After supper, I glided all the way to the school. Weee. I locked up my bike, changed into my new dark blue Bike to Work Day 2013 t-shirt and went in to enjoy the show. The show was terrific as usual. I nearly caused my daughter to laugh mid-song as she caught me laughing.  at something. (I looked away for the rest of the number until she got her composure back.) Following school tradition, the various choral groups all took the stage together with non-chorus seniors and alumni. They sang Bruce Springsteen’s My City of Ruins. Near the end my daughter started to cry. This being the senior’s last concert, of course, all the other senior girls near her started in with the tears too. Awww.

After the show, I dropped a pannier in the trunk of Mrs. Rootchopper’s car and headed for home. I rolled down 29th and Calvert Streets, about a mile with only a couple of pedal rotations. Weee.

I continued my downhill folly into Rock Creek Park on the park’s trail A runner coming up the hill from the park was running on my side of the trail causing me to brake until he stepped aside. Dude, it’s not London, don’t go messing with my roll.

Into the park in the dark I sped.  I had no trouble with hunger, because every five seconds I rode into a swarm of gnats. It was so bad I held my breath and had to pick them out of my eyes. I heard a splash to my right. A yearling deer was clumsily running through the creek. On I rode, passing a couple of oncoming bikes that were without headlights. Newbies, don’t learn the hard way, spring for a light. $35 bucks is cheaper than an ER bill.

I followed the river to the 14th Street bridge dancing with the tour buses and blasting through more gnat clouds. Once over the river, the gnats thinned out a pit. I plucked them out of my eye lids, eye brows, teeth, and nose. Ick.

Heading for home on the MVT, there were ninjas all over the place, some near the airport were toddlers. Sadly, if brains are acquired genetically, they will not be Mensa members, because their parents are idiots. I was glad I didn’t ride my recumbent because on The Mule my head is facing down, allowing me to use the visor on my helmet to shield my eyes from the car headlights when the MVT runs next to the GW Parkway.

I was riding into a headwind both ways today but didn’t much notice or care. Some of this was from adrenaline from seeing so many, many people riding today. When I could see I was clipping along at 15 miles per hour, not bad for an old fart on a Mule.

South of Old Town the trail gets mighty dark. Four men walked across the trail in front of me in Belle Haven Park. They were wearing white shirts that lit up when my headlight landed on them. A hundred yards later, I rode around a bend in the trail and saw two bright lights ahead. The lights were some sort of critter who quickly darted into the underbrush along the side of the trail. I hoped it wasn’t a skunk. Thankfully, it wasn’t.

Once past the critter, I went on autopilot. It was such a beautiful night for a ride. I really should ride at night more often.

I pulled in to home at 10, bug-covered, but happy. Another loverly ride to work. I really should do this more often, don’t you think. How about Monday? Don’t mind if I do.

My heartfelt thanks to the people who got up way before dawn to set up the pit stops and support all the riders.

To see the pix I took, take a look over on my Flickr page.