Tag: bike

Weather Gone Bung – November 2024

The month began with more rainless days. The streak continued for over 35 days. There were wildfires in Prospect Park in Brooklyn. At the very end of the month, the weather switched to wintery. Brrr. Climate change will be the death of us.

The election results shocked me. I can’t believe that Harris didn’t even win the popular vote against the most flawed opponent in history. As I recall Biden won by only tens of thousands of votes in the swing states. In a tight race, misogyny and racism exceeds incompetence and corruption. The next four years are going to be painful. As for me, I am turning off the TV and skipping the alarmist articles in the newspaper about what is going to happen. Worry is like carrying an umbrella on a sunny day.

Bicycling

The quest for 10,000 miles carries on. I hit 9,000 miles on November 7 and finished the 865-mile month with 9,623 miles.

I did two event rides. The 60-mile Cider Ride featured a posse of six. We had good time and the pizza and beer afterwards were delicious. The Ride for Your Life was a more somber affair. The ride was 8 miles from Bethesda to the Lincoln Memorial. The event raises awareness about traffic violence in the U.S. Getting to the start was a 21-mile ride in itself, making for a 43.5 mile day.

My back woes were really getting to be unbearable in October. I went to a wedding and the pain was tough to take. I also had neuropathy (pain and tingling in my right hand and arm) that seemed to worsen by the day. After riding my recumbent upon my return, I could barely stand up. I had been researching platform pedals for a while when I kept hearing that when using them you need to move the saddle forward. So, on a whim, I moved the saddle on the CrossCheck forward a few millimeters. My comfort on and off the bike was immediately improved.

I bought some MKS Lambda platform pedals and put them on the Tank. It was the first time in 40 years that I had ridden without toe clips and straps. I found I needed to raise the saddle a tad but the resulting position served me well. Even better, the pedals work great with my overboots and with my hiking boots.

Unfortunately my neuropathy returned. Earlier in the year I developed trigger finger on the middle finger of my right hand. (The finger will randomly lock in a crooked posture like a claw. Eek.) A hand surgeon gave me a shot of cortisone. Time will tell if sets me right. He also tested me for carpal tunnel syndrome. I passed! So I have a medical BOGO and, as a bonus, a pinched nerve in my neck.

A couple of week later I went for a deep tissue massage. It was pretty painful but the therapist concurred with the surgeon about the pinched nerve. She pulled me this way and that. She pressed one knotted muscle after another. I hurt all over. But two days later I felt much improved.

Reading

The Island at the Center of the World by Russell Shorto tells the mostly overlooked story of New Netherland with a focus on New Amsterdam. My wife gave it to me for my birthday and I thought it was going to be a snoozer but it turned out to be very interesting. (I am from Albany, New York which plays a role in the story so I have a heightened personal interest.) New Amsterdam, like “old” Amsterdam was a mixture of melting pot and wild, wild west. The town was an outpost of the Dutch West India Company which specialized in privateering, raiding non-Dutch vessels and stealing their goods. New Amsterdam was on the threshold of becoming a sort of proto-US when the Brits showed up with their warships and took over. God save the king and all that nonsense.

The Hunter by Tana French. This grand thriller is a sequel to French’s The Searcher. Cal Hooper is a retired Chicago cop living in rural northwestern Ireland. He’s an outsider and a distrusted guarda (cop) to the locals who make living in a small town something out of a Sartre play. A couple of grifters come to town in search of gold. Crosses and double crosses, plot twists and turns, and that’s all before the murder. And then the Dublin police show up. Eek.

Watching

Endurance is a National Geographic documentary about the 2022 search for the wreck of Ernest Shackleton’s ship at the bottom of the sea near Antarctica. The film interweaves the story of the Endurance expedition of 1914 to 1917 and the search for the wreckage nearly 10,000 feet below sea level in 2022. I’d already read two books on the Endurance so I knew the story of the expedition but I found the documentary interesting nonetheless.

Mat Ryder’s Great Divide Mountain Bike ride – After watching the video series of his ride across the US by road, I decided to check out his ride from Banff, Alberta to Antelope Wells, New Mexico along the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route last year. Steep climbs, scary descents, wildlife (grizzly bears, elk, bison, rattlesnakes, llamas, free range cattle, hawks, vultures, and more), rain, impassable mud, hurricane- remnant winds, blistering sun, high altitude, and more. There was also amazing scenery, appalling meals, and incredibly friendly people. He crossed the routes of my 2018, 2019, and 2022 tours in several places. This video series comes in roughly half hour installments (beginning here) or in one edited three-hour movie.

Beatles ’64. This is a documentary that trots out film and interviews about the Beatles first trip to the U.S. There’s nothing new to be seen, of course. I watched it while I was doing laundry. The performances benefited from new techniques that clean up the sound and isolate the band from the screaming crowds. It’s interesting to hear parts of their first U. S. concert in a boxing ring at the Washington Colosseum, now home to an REI store. I was one of the 70+million viewers who saw them on Ed Sullivan and didn’t “get” them. They were very different from what I was used to. I was a little too young and wasn’t into music yet.

What fools these bicyclists be – 50 States 2024

Saturday was the Washington Area Bicyclists Association’s annual big fundraising event: the 50 States Ride. The ride is a triumph of marketing over sanity. Participants pay $80 to ride 60 hilly miles in the heat and humidity (when it’s not raining), all within the eight wards of the District of Columbia. Did I mention that the streets are open to traffic? We’re havin’ fun now!

This year was the 21st running of the 50 States and my 16th time participating. I’ve been riding WABA events with Chris, Michael, and Kevin for several years now. Remarkably they have not grown tired of my company. A couple of years ago Chris invited Sara with whom he worked. The five of us form the core members of the posse. (Domitille, a sixth recent member, had to miss this year’s ride due to injury. We hope to have her back in the fold for WABA’s Cider Ride in November.) Our posse members invite others to join us. This year Chris invited Isabon, Sara invited Jenna and Richard, Kevin invited Neena. Isabon brought her father, Wolfgang. Monica, who rode the last couple of rides with us, decided to volunteer at a pit stop but sent along Constance and Mac.

The course changes every year. Lately it has gone clockwise around the city. The course is tweaked to show off new bicycle infrastructure, sponsors’ projects, and changes to the cityscape. Having done this ride since 2006, I can attest to the fact that DC today is vastly different than it was 18 years ago.

Funny. It looks flat on this map.

The dozen of us lit out from the start in the Edgewood neighborhood smack dab in the middle of DC. We timed our departure to avoid other groups whom the ride organizers send out at intervals with ride marshals. We don’t mean to be antisocial but when you get over 20 people of different skill levels riding together in the city the congestion can get stressful. There were a few miles where we were bunched up with other groups but by and large we were successful riding as an independent unit. As is often the case, we adopted a couple of course marshals, Micah and Stephen, along the way. At the rest stop around 45 miles into the ride I was greeted by an old friend. John is the father of one of my son’s best friends from high school. He was riding the event for the first time and looked considerably fresher than me.

Two Johns at the Wegman’s pit stop in Northwest.

Michael decided to ride the entire ride on bikeshare bikes. Every so often he’d veer off course to trade in his bike for another. I think he gets some sort of points from the bikeshare folks and avoids rental charges. He managed to obtain electric assist bikes for the hillier sections. We hate Michael.

Chris told me that his GPS file indicated there are 11 significant climbs along the route. I counted 45, a triumph of misery over digital mapping science. The worst climb goes one steep mile from MacArthur Boulevard to Macomb Street in the northwest section of the city. After a brief downhill, this monstrosity is followed by a second, soul-sucking half-mile climb up Cathedral Heights. Six miles later we descended into Rock Creek Park only to climb right back out for a mile. Dang.

Instead of using the digital file, I use the paper cue sheet. Actually, it’s a 18-page booklet containing nearly 270 cues. This virtually ensures that I will make a wrong turn. This year I set a PR, making four wrong turns. (Actually one was semi-intentional as I saw three of our riders obeying the GPS audio instruction and turning a block early and going off route. I followed them in order to lead them back to the course.) Ironically, earlier in the ride after we crossed over the Washington Channel, a course marshal made a wrong turn entering East Potomac Park. I ignored the error and stayed on route. The Mule abides.

The clockwise course seemed somehow hillier than in prior years. I struggled for most of the ride even though The Mule had a new, lower climbing gear thanks to Beth at Bikes at Vienna. It may have just been the heat (mid-80s) and humidity at work or perhaps the fact that I’m old, decrepit, and grumpy.

By 58 miles I had had enough. We could have gone straight to the finish but the course meandered through the campus of The Catholic University, along the super nice cycletrack on Irving Avenue Northwest, and past the bizarre looking McMillan Sand Filtration site which is being developed into a mixed used community by one of the event sponsors. After McMillan we had a tedious one-mile ride in heavy traffic to loop back to the finish.

After the ride, the posse hung out at the after party which, owing to our slow riding pace, was all but over. Still we ate some sammies and hydrated our weary bodies. (I went all Stanley Kowalski and had a Stella.) I guess the ride was a success because several posse members expressed an interest in doing the (considerably easier) 60-mile Cider Ride in November. Well done, y’all.

Most of the posse after the ride. Clockwise from left: Richard, Chris, Me, Sara, Michael, Constance, Mac, Jenna, Micah, Kevin, Neena.

Many thanks to all the volunteers and WABA staff for all their hard work on this event. Special thanks to Mike and Lisa who convert their home in Tacoma into a very welcoming pit stop every year. And to Patti Heck who stood at the corner of Alaska Avenue and Geranium Street Northwest to take photos (links above) of riders as she has done for many years now.

April Go He Won’t – Yet

T. S. Eliot wasn’t entirely wrong about April. Although I must admit April in the mid-Atlantic is decidedly less cruel than it is in New England or upstate New York where I spent my first 29 Aprils.

Reading

Chip Wars by Chris Miller. This book had been recommended by multiple friends. They were right. It’s pretty amazing. It’s the story of the semiconductor industry. Sounds boring, right? The technological aspects are fascinating, but the geopolitics of the chip industry are mind-blowing. Miller tells the story artfully from the very first transistor to the chips that power artificial intelligence.

Watching

The big watching event was the eclipse. We drove to my in-laws’ place in northern Indiana. From there, we drove back roads to Portland, Indiana near the Ohio state line. We were in the zone of totality. Our battle plan worked like a charm with considerable help from the weather gods.

Yeah, I watched the NCAA women’s final. but, for me, April is all about baseball. Nationals fans are a bit like Jim Carrey’s character in Dumb and Dumber: so you’re telling me there’s still a chance! For baseball fans, July is the cruelest month because by mid-summer your team’s flaws become undeniable. For now, the Nats are within a game of .500 and the young talent is starting to show real promise.

I rode to two baseball games at Nats Park. It was a bit chilly but I drank some beer. The games were fun. The ride was funner.

Riding

I took a week off for the first time in years and managed to ride 22 days for a total of 707.5 miles. For the most part, the weather was pretty good. I brought Big Nellie out of the basement and rode it 322.5 miles. Little Nellie chipped in 229 miles. The Mule contributed 156 miles. The Tank took the month off as I tried with fitful success to get rid of the nagging neck pain I’ve been dealing with for months.

I did two long rides of 53 and 52 miles on Big Nellie. The last one in near 90-degree heat.

I’m more than 300 miles below last year’s pace despite having an extra calendar day. I sit at 2,981 miles which projects to 9,017 miles for the year. I need to get my fanny in gear if I hope to make 10,000 miles. I expect to take several days off in May for a family event so 10K will be a challenge.

I spent a good deal of time doing tour prep. Of course, I keep thinking of things to add to my load, meaning I will be sending home a package after the first week like always. Yesterday I acquired a dog whistle, pepper spray, sunscreen, and a small can of shaving cream. Today, I set up my tent in the backyard. As usual, I forgot a few steps but even so the whole thing took only ten minutes. After that I compared my stock of spare tires to the ones on The Mule. I checked my records and the rear Schwalbe Marathon tire has 6,000 miles on it. I should get me another 1,000 miles or two before replacing it. The front tire, a Schwalbe Mondial, is in even better shape.

I also found a kit to overhaul my Top Peak Road Morph pump, a pump that has proven to be barely adequate over the years. It took forever to get the pump apart and when I did I dropped a tiny spring that went somewhere far far away. I also discovered that the replacement o-ring was the wrong size. Clearly, the bike gods were telling me to buy a new pump so I ordered a Lezyne high volume mini floor pump. Beth at Bikes at Vienna recommended Lezyne pumps. There is one video online that slams the design (if you’re not careful you can pull the valve out of the tire!) but it’s hard to imagine it can be any worse than my Road Morph. Time will tell.

I am down to two items yet to be acquired: a small bottle of Dr. Bronner’s castile soap (it always comes in handy) and a tiny metal valve adapter so that I can use a gas station air pump in a pinch. So tomorrow I will celebrate May Day by doing one last shopping trip.

Giving

This month I made my semi-annual donation to World Central Kitchen in the days after their team in Gaza was killed by the Israeli military.

I also made a donation to Warmshowers.org. If you donate now, you will be entered into a lottery for a new touring bike. Sounds good to me.

Finally, I gave blood this morning for the second time this year. They asked if I wanted to give a double red donation but, with a tour looming, I decided to go with a unit of whole blood.

Mid-April Bentabout

Yesterday I spread eight bags of mulch then went for a ride on Little Nellie. I lasted 16 1/2 miles before nasty weather nearby chased me indoors. I rode the equivalent of another 16 miles on Big Nellie in the basement.

Today the weather was perfect. I spread another 8 bags of mulch, ate lunch, and decided it was time to free Big Nellie from its winter perch on the resistance trainer in the cellar.

Big Nellie starts working on her 2024 tan.

I took the inland (away from the Potomac River) toward DC. Near the Pentagon, I discovered that a road reconstruction project was nearing completion. This included a new traffic circle and some new bike multiuse trails. After the traffic circle and the I-395 underpass there’s a second traffic circle. Here the new trail connects to a trail that goes under the GW Parkway and intersects the Mount Vernon Trail at the Humpback Bridge.

The new underpass at the Humpback Bridge. Note the sign says that there is a barrier ahead but the barrier is gone.

After using the underpass I looped up onto the bridge where I saw two bike tourists. They were gazing at the monuments across the river and DC and discussing something. I figured they were trying to find their way somewhere.

I rode on and crossed the Memorial Bridge. Near the Lincoln Memorial I noticed that the tourists had stopped on the trail behind me. I circled back and asked them if they needed help. They said they had just flown into Reagan (note: NOBODY in DC calls National Airport “Reagan”) and were riding to Pittsburgh. Been there. Done that. So I gave them encouragement and some directions then idiotically proceeded to go exactly the way they were going to get on the C&O Canal. (Why didn’t I just say “Follow me”? Derp.)

We rode more or less together along the river past the beach volleyball courts, under the TR Bridge, past the Kennedy Center and the Watergate when I decided to take them past the Swedish Embassy on the Georgetown waterfront. Just before the turn to the embassy we saw signs for the C&O Canal Milepost 0. I had never seen it! It was the perfect photo op.

Dallas tourists Raegan (sic) and Sue near the Lincoln Memorial.
Milepost 0

After the photo I directed them to the Water Street cycletrack. Go thata way. Do not stop until you get to Pittsburgh. (It’s really that easy!)

As for myself, I headed up Rock Creek Park to see the trees leaving out and check out dogwoods and azaleas and wisteria and more. After about ten miles I left the park and headed into Bethesda where I picked up the Capital Crescent Trail and zoomed back down to Georgetown and, eventually, home.

The ride ended up being 53 miles. It is my longest ride since the Cider Ride in early November. Thanks to Big Nellie’s comfy ride, I arrived home not the least bit sore.

A Shorts Story

A few days ago a cold, snowy week gave way to temperatures above 40 degrees. I decided to brave the snowy trails and bike lanes and ride to DC to drop off some books at a used book shop. What normally would have taken 90 minutes each way took 115 because there were so many places where snow and ice made my route unrideable. Having made it about ten miles riding and walking, I decided to take a chance on some snow and slush on the trail that connects the Crystal City neighborhood of Arlington to the Mount Vernon Trail. I made it about 100 yards before encountering more snow and ice. I decided to hell with it and rode over it. Bad idea. I went down on my side, fortunately landing in a pile of powder on the side of the trail. This is why I don’t like winter riding. Had I landed on a hard surface I’d have been in a world of hurt. I picked myself up and continued on my way, making sure to avoid another crash. I made it back home without any further calamities.

Today is January 26. I rode The Tank to Friday Coffee Club, leaving just before dawn. The temperature was around 60F. I wore shorts. Yeah baby! It is amazing how much nicer bike riding is in shorts as opposed to long pants. On the way I encountered dense fog and somewhat cooler temperatures along the Potomac River.

The Washington Monument from Gravelly Point Park across from DC

Our band of merry bike riders enjoyed their coffee outdoors today. A week ago it snowed and, for all I know, nobody went to Coffee Club.

After a couple of hours of discussing our various medical woes and discussing other pressing issues of the day, I rode back toward home. The fog had lifted and the sun was burning off the rest of the clouds. The ride downriver was as good as it gets for January.

Today was a good day to put in some extra miles so I stopped at an Ace Hardware store in Old Town Alexandria. After a quick transaction, I was back on the bike riding further south to pick up some milk at the local grocery store. (So far, the only downer to the morning had been the near sour milk I had poured over my Wheat Chex before leaving home.)

Once at home I read the paper and grabbed some lunch before heading back out on the bike to buy some tax software at an office supply store. I dropped the software off at home and headed back out again to drop off my lawn mower blade to be sharpened at the neighborhood hardware store. While there I picked up 15 pounds of bird seed which fit nicely in my two large Ortlieb panniers.

Once back at the ranch I gave The Tank a look over to see how the salt and sand and brine was treating its chain. The chain had rust spots along the side plates so it was past due for some new lube. I took the bike onto the back patio operating theater and successfully made things right.

While I was working on the bike, the air conditioner kicked on. The inside temperature and humidity felt like June. It was a muggy 80F degrees outside when I finished my chores. Dang.

Could It Really Be Spring?

The weather report called for temperatures in the low seventies. I prepared by taking yesterday off the bike, mowing the lawn and doing a number of chores. I waited until I saw a 5 and a 0 on the digital thermometer in our house.

Off I rode on Little Nellie and felt very strong. It was obvious that I had a tailwind. About three miles from home, I passed the Morningside nest and spotted a white head. Hopefully, we’ll have some eaglets soon (if we don’t have them already). A mile further on I looked left as I crossed the Dyke Marsh boardwalk.  The pair of geese I saw earlier in the week were still waddling about. It was a bit troubling that papa goose was on the far side of the Parkway. It would suck if he became roadkill.  (My wife and I once saw a black SUV mow down a mama duck and a few of her ducklings as they tried to cross the Parkway. The surviving ducklings were a sad sight, waddling around in a panic.)

The Mount Vernon Trail was very crowded, which is typical of a warm, sunny weekend day. The tailwind made passing easy. I cruised to the city with surprisingly little difficulty. At Gravelly Point, a plane came in for a landing. A man transfixed by the plane wandered directly in front of me looking up. “YO!” He came back to reality and hopped out of the way.

The tailwind became obvious when the trail curved along the river bank. Little Nellie was a happy camper.

I turned to ride up the ramp to the 14th Street Bridge. Now with the wind in my face, it was time to work a little. Bikes were coming down the ramp in a long line. There was a fence on the left and a highway ramp on the right. There were three bikes in front of me. They stopped. No warning. The two women in front were having a conversation. The guy in the back said nothing. I veered to the left (thankfully there was a little room) and stopped with my front wheel next to his rear wheel. For some reason I blurted out “What the fuck are you doing?” It was louder than intended, perhaps because my expectations of a smooth ride to DC had been dashed. The guy turns to me, objects to my remark and starts explaining the situation (as if it wasn’t self-evident) . While he’s jabbering, I look up and two cyclists are coming down the hill, passing the long line of bikes, straight at me. I turn to my new personal friend and yell, “Move your god damned bike NOW!”

I think this blows my chances at the Cherry Blossom Festival Mr.Congeniality award. And I am sure he thought I am a total asshole. He has a point. I don’t care. Safety comes first.

On the DC side of the bridge, chaos. I weaved through the buses and tourists. I could see that the trees along the Tidal Basin were nowhere near full bloom so I headed for East Potomac Park. Into the wind.

I saw a few nice trees but the whole experience left me frustrated. If I hadn’t lived here for decades I’d swear that this whole cherry blossom thing is a hoax.

A Lonely Bloomer on Hains Point

I rode upriver to the Lincoln Memorial, crossing Constitution Avenue through one epic traffic jam. I spotted a Park Service employee helping people cross the street. He just laughed. It was so bad that there’s nothing he could do.

I back tracked on the opposite side of the Mall and past the White House. Pennsylvania Avenue was not very crowded. Cherry Blossoms, even disappointing ones, trump the leader of the free world.

I don’t much like cycletracks but on this sunny day it seemed like the most civilized way to ride through town. All but one turning car yielded to me so I felt safe. At Meridian Hill Park, here were no drums to be heard and no acroyogis or hula hoopers to watch so I plodded up the hill and kept on keeping on. The cycletrack dies out at 16th Street so I took for a ways. At a four way stop, a car behind me went through the intersection out of turn. The car that had been slighted laid on his horn and followed the offender up 16th, passing me. He stayed on his horn for a block until he pulled up next to the offenders who were obviously lost. They exchanged words. The offenders turned onto a side street out of which came a DC police cruiser. The cop pulled over the SUV driver, apparently for making a public nuisance out of himself. I felt bad for him. He won’t win Mr. Congeniality either.

I turned off 16th and found 14th with a bike lane. It ended at a T on Aspen Street. A left turn and soon I was cruising down a series of S curves into Rock Creek Park. This road is part of the 50 States Ride so I have ridden it several times. It is the bestest.

At the bottom of the hill I turned right and headed for Chevy Chase (the neighborhood not the actor). I spent a few minutes on Rock Creek Trestle The creek is way down there.

Reversing course, I made for Bethesda Row and its fine array of eateries. After crossing a busy street the trail makes a hard left turn. The woman cyclist in front of me was wearing the full bike rider kit (matching lycra top and bottom). She clipped into her pedals and seemed to be going at a snail’s pace. As I was about to pass her, she waved me by with her left hand. In her hand was a lit cigarette. Carbon makes bikes go faster, or so they say.

I ate at Bethesda Bagels because it’s good and I am boring. I always eat there when I bike to Bethesda.

Instead of dealing with the Capital Crescent Trail crowds I headed out on the quiet side streets of Bethesda. A right hand turn put me on Bradley Boulevard, normally a busy road but not I had PEDs in my pedals. After passing through Avenel I picked up Falls Road. A left on MacArthur Boulevard had me descending through the woods of Great Falls Park, The windy road is flawed only slightly by the bumpy pavement, otherwise this one rivals the downhill into Rock Creek Park.

I was headed into the wind but the descent made me unaware. At the Old Anglers Inn, I jumped on the C & O Canal towpath for the ride back to DC. Now that I had slowed down, the headwind was annoying. Little Nellie’s short wheel base does not make for a comfortable ride on rough surfaces. I bounced along slaloming among the walkers and runners. I spotted a big great blue heron standing still on a log over the canal. Even with the bumps, the ride on the C & O Canal is a thing of beauty, Except for the gnats swarms. For about four miles I encountered clouds of flying black bugs They don’t bite but they get into everything, your mouth, eyes, hair, ears.  And your whole body gets covered in them. Ick.

After switching over to the paved Capital Crescent Trail, I looked at the Seussian Cormorants perched in the trees along the Potomac. They do this every year, feeding on the fish swimming up river to spawn.

Back in the city, I decided to avoid the cherry blossom scene and the Mount Vernon Trail, I took the Teddy Roosevelt Bridge to the MVT for about a mile then crossed over to the Pentagon. With a stifling headwind, I followed roads past the vast Pentagon parking lots and Long Bridge Park, through Crystal City and Potomac Yards. In Old Town Alexandria I followed Columbus Street, several blocks from the touristy madness. After waiting at a stop light, I started pedaling when it turned green. The car opposite me starting coming through the intersection too. A green taxi coming from the cross street blew through the light. I think the light must have been back lit for the driver. If I had had a tailwind instead of a headwind, I’d have been roadkill. The taxi missed us both.

South of Alexandria, the Mount Vernon Trail wasn’t crowded so I hopped on it and slogged into the wind.

At home, I took inventory: my hands hurt. my back hurt. my arms hurt. my knees hurt. My face and thighs burned.

Spring is here.

For some pix check out my Flickr page here.