Ah, we have entered the truly entertaining portion of our DC area summer: the heat dome. Beginning yesterday we will have (at least) five consecutive days of temperatures above 90 degrees F. The F being a rather appropriate abbreviation. With DC’s wonderous summer humidity temperatures will feel like 110 to 115 degrees F. Or as we say hereabouts effing degrees.
I chose to do my normal Wednesday routine yesterday. I left home about 8:30 to clear the way for our housecleaning service and our lawn crew. I rode 15 miles here and there until I ended up at the gym. As I dismounted The Tank, I became aware that the breeze my bicycle riding had generated had disguised the fact that it was now 89 degrees and downright swampy.
Fortunately. the gym had its air conditioning set on Nome. I cooled down nicely despite lifting weights for 30 minutes or so. I use the term “lifting weights” rather liberally because I have to lower the weight on every machine after just about anyone else uses it.
80 pounds! No, that won’t do. Let’s try 45. Much better.
After shehulking, I walked back outside to my trusty steed. You know it’s hot when your bike is sweating. That’s all I’ll say. Off I rode, choosing only the most level ground I could find because I certainly didn’t need any help warming up on a climb. I rode for 15 more miles. Somewhere during the last five I entered the realm of the heat dome. Damn it was hot!/
I made it home and did some chores outside then retreated to the air conditioned splendor of my man cave. Absolutely nothing was going to coax be back out. The heat index was well over 100 effing degrees.
Today, I left home on Little Nellie at 8:30 for a quick trip to the supermarket. I brought one pannier and bought only a few items. When I put the pannier on the bike, it leaned ominously. Oops. I guess I should have bought a half gallon of milk instead. I rode at a slant a little over a mile back home. After putting things away, I took off for another 28 miles of blast-heat adventure.
I went from feeling quite comfortable to feeling nauseous then to feeling turmoil in my intestines. The once-cold water in my bottles was now warm enough to defrost frozen beef. Improbably, drinking it made me feel better. Alas, a few gulps and the comfort/nausea/turmoil sequence began anew.
I managed to make it through the ride and scrambled indoors. The temperature at the end of my ride just after noon was 99 degrees with a heat index of 112.
Tomorrow I plan on riding 15 miles to DC for some nice hot coffee in Georgetown. At 7 a. m. this should be manageable. Then back home in 85-degrees. Via the gym, of course. With any sort of luck I’ll avoid the ER which is conveniently located 1/2 mile from home.
Temperatures over the next two days are supposed to be a couple of degrees higher. I’ll be celebrating Independence Day inside, napping on the couch, dreaming of snowcrete and weeks of subfreezing temperatures.
My mother was an incessant reader and she made sure that our house with seven kids was filled with books. One book that I recall reading to my younger siblings was A Fish Out of Water by Helen Palmer.
Palmer was the wife of Dr. Seuss. A Fish was based on a Dr. Seuss short story. The illustrations are by P. D. Eastman.
The book tells the tale a boy who buys a goldfish at a pet store. Mr. Carp, the shop owner, warns him: “Never feed him a lot…never more than a spot. Or something may happen. You never know what.”
The boy disobeys the instructions and overfeeds the fish. The fish starts to grow and grow uncontrollably until he’s so big, he gets transferred to s swimming pool. Mr. Carp is summoned and dives into the pool to save the day.
What goes for goldfish normally goes for adjustments to a bicycle. When raising or tilting or lengthening or shortening things on a bike, the wise bike owner thinks in tiny increments, millimeters not inches. Anymore and something may happen, you never know what.
I’ve always followed this advice…until recently, that is.
A while back, Ryan, a mechanic at my local bike store, installed a higher rise stem on The Tank, my Surly CrossCheck bicycle. This shortened the reach to the handlebars and allowed me to ride in a very slightly more upright position, sparing my neck considerable discomfort.
When I dismounted, however, my lower back ached for hours. I was once again ready to throw in the towel on this bike but I decided to try one more adjustment.
Using a tape measure and a three-foot level I compared the dimensions of The Tank and The Mule, my comfortable Specialized Sequoia touring bike. The saddle height was the same but tip of the saddle on the Tank was higher than the handlebars. On The Mule, the saddle was level with the handlebars.
I pulled out my allen keys and went to work to change the tilt on The Tank’s saddle. For some reason the saddle tilt adjustment simply wouldn’t work. I spent an hour fiddling with it until I gave up.
Just to see if it would feel any better, I impulsively raised the saddle by nearly and inch and a half so that the tip of The Tank’s saddle matched the orientation on The Mule. I went for a ride.
It took some doing to get used to the higher center of gravity my adjustment caused but after 15 miles I could tell that my lower back was decompressed and my legs were transferring much more power to the pedals.
For the next several days I rode The Tank, expecting something to go haywire in my neck or back. It never did. The bike rides like a charm and my back and neck are much happier.
On a whim, I made a similar mega adjustment to the saddle height on Little Nellie, my Bike Friday New World Tourist. This bike is a folding travel bike with small wheels which, in concert with its big monobeam design, transmit unpleasant road shock to my back. Lo and behold, the adjustment worked almost as well on Little Nellie.
An inch and a half ought to fix things, said no bike mechanic ever.
What’s good for the goldfish apparently is bad for the bike. Who knew?
Today was Bike to Work Day. It is not an official holiday but it ought to be. My bike commute back in the day was 30 miles round trip. Not surprisingly, I suppose,33 I still ride 30 miles per day. Most days I just improvise my route. On Fridays, I ride to Friday Coffee Club at Swings Coffee near the White House in DC, about 14 1/2 miles one way. I leave at 6:40 to arrive a little after 8.
Today was different. Having registered for Bike to Work Day and having picked Old Town Alexandria as my pit stop, I rode with the expectation of getting my umpteenth Bike to Work Day t-shirt. Who could turn down a free t-shirt? As I hit the road I immediately saw three other bike commuters, something that is rare. On the way to Old Town I saw two more.
Yesterday, I was doing my daily 30 miles when a helpful motorist honked his horn as he approached me from the rear on a quite neighborhood street. I yelled at him not to beep at me. “I was only trying to help,” he replied then he decided that my ingratitude deserved a lesson. He swerved in front of me and nearly forced me into a parked car before speeding away. So helpful.
On the way to Old Town today, I encountered another helpful driver. I was stopped at a stop sign waiting for car traffic to clear so I could take a left turn. A driver approaching from my left slowed and flashed his lights encouraging me to cross the road. I shook my head. Lo and behold, there was car closing on my position from the right. Had I taken the helpful advice, I would have ended up in the Mount Vernon Hospital ER pit stop. I seriously wish well meaning drivers would just drive their cars and stop “helping” bike riders.
One other digression, if you’ll abide. I am using ten-year old water bottles these days and hoped that I might pick up a new one at the pit stop. Also, I recently started wearing an old bike helmet because the fit of my newer one bothers my neck. Old helmets are better than going without but they offer diminished protection. I could surely use an upgrade.
Okay, back to Bike to Work Day.
I arrived at the Old Town pit stop just as it opened at 7:30. Tables were set up in a courtyard and along the sidewalk. I stopped to check out the goodies at each table. The first table was sponsored by the Cursio Law firm, a personal injury practice. (I wonder how many of their clients were “helped” by drivers.) They gave me a water bottle. Next to the bottles were several bike helmets. I asked somewhat sheepishly, “Are you giving these out?” “Yes. Try one on.” Sure enough the helmet I tried fit like a glove. Dang. Good morning, karma. Each helmet they give out has a sticker that says that if your helmet is damaged in an accident, they will replace it! Dang again.
My Bike to Work Day Haul
I went to other tables and picked up a multitool, three more water bottles, a blinky light, a pen, a microfiber hand towel, some coupons for smoothies, and, of course, my t-shirt.
I continued on to DC, passing Jon, a Friday Coffee Club regular, as he was riding toward Virginia on the 14th Street Bridge. This was surely a sign that Friday Coffee Club would be lightly attended. And it was. I took attendance. One. After 10 minutes Rando Ed, co-founder of Friday Coffee Club, made a brief appearance. Then I was alone again. Okay, time to head home.
A mile later, in the cycletrack on Maine Avenue, I was passed by Ashley, yet another FCC regular. She was late getting to DC undoubtedly because she went to a pit stop en route.
I crossed the Potomac to Virginia and, for the next 13 miles, enjoyed a brisk tailwind all the way home.
Bike to Work Day is a day of taking but I had something to give back. After lunch, I rode 1/2. mile to the Inova Bloodmobile parked at the hospital down the street. I donated a pint of my finest for all those unfortunate folks who take helpful guidance from well meaning drivers.
Of course, the day wouldn’t be complete without another t-shirt.
The weather finally took a turn for the better and I found myself riding 16 days in a row, mostly outdoors. I used the rides as a last attempt to get the CrossCheck set up to my liking. For eight months (since last July) I rode it only 108 miles, because my neck and upper back simply couldn’t tolerate it. I took measurements of The Mule, my trusty, fits-like-a-glove, steed, and tweaked the saddle position on the CrossCheck so that all the dimensions exactly matched The Mule. Or so I thought. I put the bikes side-by-side and noticed the handlebars on The Mule were rotated slightly backward but the bars on the CrossCheck were level. I rotated the CrossCheck’s bars. This seemed to help but the new position made it a bit awkward to squeeze the brake levers. I ordered a new stem in the hopes of fixing this issue. If it doesn’t work, I’ll surrender and donate the bike.
I shouldn’t complain after dealing with brutal winter weather, and riding indoors, for most of February. It was so warm the last couple of days that I could wear shorts and a t-shirt. Not having long pants and upper body layers makes a world of difference. Ahh. For a couple of days the thermometer broke 80 degrees F, setting back-to-back high temperature records. It was humid, too. So much so that Mrs. Rootchopper turned on the air conditioning at home. When I walked past the AC unit on my way into the house, I heard an unfamiliar SNAP! It turns out the cool air coming out of the vents in the house was recycled from the cooler days before the heat bump, the AC unit was not working. So, Mrs. R. called the AC repairman to check things out today. Then this happened…
Temperatures dropped 50 degrees since yesterday and we had an hour-long snowfall.
For some strange reason the repairman called to reschedule.
With the weather gone bung and dead legs, I spent most of my day in the basement shredding old tax documents. I have been meaning to do this for a long time. Lawyer Mike at Friday Coffee Club last week reminded me that any tax document older than seven years serves no purpose. My tax files went back, believe it or not, to 1979! I overheated my shredder multiple times.
The shredfest was one of the items on my To Do list for March. I have gotten into the habit of putting a monthly to do list on my phone. It helps if the items on the list are easy to do. For example, in February my do the income taxes task was broken down into download software, data entry, review return line by line, file return, calculate estimated taxes for 2026. I completed 15 of 16 tasks in February. March has 18 tasks. I’ve completed eight so far. I’ve started three others. I also add tasks as the need arises. (I generally don’t include recurring things on the list like Friday Coffee Club, lift weights, go for a bike ride.)
Baseball is back. I am enjoying the World Baseball Classic, a tournament of players from 16 countries. It’s what the All Star Game should be but isn’t. Opening day is about six weeks away.
I have not been reading about the Washington Nationals this spring because the Washington Post fired its sports reporters (and photographers and most of its other reporters). I loved shopping at small bookstores but many of my favorites closed because of competition from Jeff Bezos’ Amazon.com. So why not wreck another one of my favorite things, Mr. Bezos? So far this spring there have been zero articles about the Nationals and only one spring training box score. Basically, the Post is a little more than a conduit for the wire services. Sorry, Jeff, we’re cancelling our subscription.
I’ll finish with a note of thanks to reader and former Friday Coffee Clubber John Fisher. John moved to California and recently has been cleaning out his box of unused bike stuff. He found an old Light and Motion integrated headlight and taillight. He sent it to me out of the blue. What a super nice thing to do, John. As for the rest of you readers, you can surprise me with cold hard cash. On the advice of Lucy van Pelt, I take tens and twenties.
Ah, we find ourselves in the coldest week of the year. Or so the weatherman says, T. S. Eliot be damned. My memory says that mid February is worse but what do I know.
We are definitely getting more sunlight by the day. I must say that I haven’t succumbed to the winter blues yet, probably because recent weather has been conducive to outdoor riding. The Mule and I did 40 miles a couple of days ago. Sadly, I discovered that my cruising speed has dropped another notch. It is depressing to see 9.8 on my speedometer but it is what it is. I suppose when I get the layers off and get back to riding in shorts that I will see double digits again.
I’ve also been doing a fair amount of riding indoors. Today’s wind chills were in the 20s so a session on Big Nellie in the basement was in order. Riding inside also means I read a lot. I’ve knocked off five of the books I received as Christmas gifts. Book six, from an unknown donor, is next. I’ll give my impressions at the end of the month.
I have finally given up on my Surly CrossCheck. It no longer agrees with my body, specifically my upper back and neck. I offered it to a friend and he seemed somewhat interested. If he doesn’t want it, I’ll donate it to a local charity.
One of the gift books I read was about the town of Deadwood, South Dakota in the Black Hills. I have always wanted to ride the Michelson Trail (which ends in Deadwood) through the Black Hills and this book rekindled that idea. I checked and the southern start of the trail is about 1,100 miles from my in-laws’ place in Indiana. I’d need to launch by mid-May to avoid the summer heat of the Plains. The trail itself is about 110 miles. After that would come a two-day ride to Devils Tower which I’ve never seen. I honestly don’t know if I still have a big tour left in my old bones. We’ll see how I feel in April.
Nothing quite perks up the start of a new year quite like having a colonoscopy which I did last week. The prep seemed to take much more out of me (no pun intended) than ever before. Fortunately, no cancer was found so now I can go back to growing more polyps for my next procedure in 3 years.
At the start of the month, I made a list on my phone of adulting chores to do in January. I’ve knocked off several such as getting a new battery for the car, re-registering the car, taking disused clothes to Goodwill, taking old books to a used book store, and the like. I also spent far too many hours trying to gain online access my Social Security account. I finally succeeded and learned why the security software was rejecting me; I had fat fingered my phone number when I set up my account. Doh.
I am trying my best to avoid the news on TV. It is incredibly depressing. Newspapers as flawed as they may be are less stressful.
I have become addicted to word games. These suck up an hour every day. Which reminds me: today’s Waffle puzzle was posted 20 minutes ago.
I made it to 10,000 miles for the eighth year in a row. It wasn’t easy but I pulled it off. Of the 10,164 miles that I rode, 723 were indoors on various contraptions. After we joined the local rec center, I decided to ride there and use the recumbent bikes for an hour, saving me from the elements. The rec center machines are cruel masters; the feedback from the display screen gets me riding much faster than I do outdoors. At the end of the year, I brought the CrossCheck indoors to try it out on my resistance trainer. It still beat up my body. By comparison, Big Nellie, my recumbent, on the trainer is almost as good as a massage.
The Mule was my bike of choice for most of the year, except July and August when I rode Big Nellie, my recumbent, exclusively. I experimented with an underseat steering recumbent, an HP Velotechnik Streetmachine, and found it just didn’t work for me. I rode it 119 miles before throwing in the towel after tipping over and injuring my right shoulder. I rode my Bike Friday only 201.5 miles. I rode my CrossCheck 1,142.5 miles, mostly during the Spring. That’s about 2,000 or so miles less than 2024. Since then, except for using it on my resistance trainer, it has gathered dust.
My biggest mileage month was April – 1,019 miles – mostly because of the tour I did on the Natchez Trace Parkway. My shortest month was February – 676 miles – no surprise. My mileage during the warm weather months was assisted by hiring a lawn service. I’ve learned that I would much rather ride than mow.
My longest ride of the year was 90 miles which came on the Natchez Trace tour. This is the first year in ages that I didn’t do a century (100-mile) ride. I did ride my age on my 70th birthday, albeit in kilometers. When you get old, kilometers rock.
I did my usual event rides, the WABA Spring ride (20 miles plus 30 riding to and from), the 50 States Ride (62 miles), the Great Pumpkin Ride (62 miles with my rear wheel falling off) and the Cider Ride (60 miles of hurt).
And then there is this:
Clockwise from upper left: Big Nellie, The Mule, The CrossCheck, and Little Nellie. 196,121 miles in all.
So my first goal of the new year is to put 3,879 more miles on my bikes. Check this space in May.
I had hoped to buy a new bike (or trike) in 2025 and get rid of one of my little-used ones but that didn’t happen. I also thought about an inn-to-inn tour in County Cork, Ireland but I let that slide. As for this year, I have no plans at all other than to avoid big metal things.
Most people around here have probably already forgotten that this summer was peppered with heat waves that made going outside an exercise in stupidity. (Didn’t stop me though.)
Ah, the joys of summer
Lately, we’ve been dealing with what you might call the polar opposite, frigid air with no end in sight. Temperatures have been running 10 to 15 degrees F – and I mean F – for the last couple of weeks. I should be basking in 50 degree weather, borderline riding-in-shorts weather. Instead, I spend a good ten extra minutes finding layers to layer and sticking toe warmers in my shoes. I have not yet broken out my balaclava and my winter overboots, which I usually use only in January and February, but I can hear them calling from the dresser filled with winter gear in my basement.
So, on average, it’s been a run-of-the-mill year weatherwise. Now if we could just work on the variance we’d have a meteorological hoedown, statistically speaking.
Thinking ahead to decent riding weather in December I took Big Nellie and The Mule in for service. They are ready to rumble. Then snow came. Just an inch but enough to make me wary of a crash, a circumstance that my beat up right shoulder wants nothing to do with. I brought my CrossCheck inside and mounted it on a resistance trainer. I managed one hour before the boredom and intensity of my workout damned near did me in.
The snow, all one inch of it, melted in a day so I’ve been riding outside. I have about 20 miles in me before I start raging at the weather gods and dreaming of spring. (Just four months to go!)
Then it occurred to me that our newly renovated rec center has stationary bikes. I tried the recumbent model our and really liked it. You can mount reading material or plug in your phone for entertainment. It even has a fan to keep me from overheating. I did an intense workout, expecting to ride for an hour before the digital fitness overlords terminated my session with an automatic “cool down” feature after 30 minutes.
Why not?
Today I mixed and matched. I rode The Mule 7 miles from home to the rec center then rode a half-hour session on the rec bent. Next I lifted weights for a half hour before a second session on the rec bent. Then I went back outside to discover that the temperature had dropped during my time inside. Windy 34 degrees is not my cup of tea but The Mule and I managed to do another 10 miles before headed inside for hot soup.
All of this is aimed at my inane goal of riding 10,000 miles this year. Entering December I had 520 miles left to go. Given the weather, holiday festivities, and shopping, I felt the goal was going to be a serious challenge. So far so good. I have 319 miles to go with 23 days to go. In 2017 I finished the year less than 100 miles short of 10,000 because my cardiovascular system gifted me blood clots for Christmas.
The frigid temperatures have brought out the weirdness in our local critters. I have seen more vultures this week than I have all year. This may be because I’ve been riding Big Nellie with it’s panoramic view combined with the lack of leaves on the trees. I saw four vultures along the Mount Vernon Trail at Dyke Marsh the other day. The other day there was the big snake in my backyard. It turned out to be a harmless garter snake but it was very feisty, trying to bite whenever it was approached.
Say hello to my not so little friend
Today, I spotted this sign in New Alexandria about a mile from the rec center.
Stick season has arrived in the DC area. I’m adjusting to riding in 40-degree weather rather well but the winds are a bit of a challenge as always.
Watching
The World Series – On a par with the very best baseball games I’ve ever seen including the fabled 6th game of the 1975 Series that resurrected baseball’s popularity. The 2025 Series was so good that my wife (not a big baseball fan) watched most of it with me.
A House of Dynamite – Kathryn Bigelow’s latest masterpiece about the 19 minutes after a nuclear warhead is launched toward the US. It is told from three perspectives: the military, the White House, and the President. Whoa.
The Fantastic Four: First Steps – The latest Marvel movie. Orders of magnitude better that A House ofDynamite. Not! When the best thing about the movie is the set decoration (early 60s NYC meets The Jetsons), you know you’re in for a long two hours.
Say Nothing – A nine-part miniseries based on the book of the same name (see below). Excellent but disturbing and depressing. I had nightmares after watching this.
The American Revolution – A six-part, twelve-hour miniseries on how the US came to be. Another gem from Ken Burns with collaborators Sarah Botstein, and David Schmidt. Your school history lessons will seem utterly incomplete after watching this.
Ryan van Duzer’s Natchez Trace Tour – Ryan rode the Trace in October. It was fun to re-visit the ride I did this spring.
Riding
I rode the Cider Ride with Chris, Michael, and Kevin. The No-estrogen Ride. First time I’ve ridden one of these with just the boys in forever. I knew I was in trouble when they dropped me on the first hill at the half mile mark. Still I slogged my way through 60 miles. This was the longest ride of the month.
I rode 787 miles in 24 days during November. I took the CrossCheck out for a 20-mile ride but otherwise the whole month was on The Mule. Big Nellie spent the month in the shop for much needed maintenance. I dropped The Mule off for work yesterday. This will give me a jump on bike maintenance for next year. Also, my local bike shop’s service area is dead so I get The Mule back by mid-week.
For the year, I’ve clocked 9,479 miles. Just 521, or 16.3 miles per day to get to 10,000. Fingers crossed.
Reading
Say Nothing by Patrick Radden Keefe. An account of the dystopia that was Belfast during the Troubles in the 1970s and later. Absolutely riveting. To quote dialog from A House of Dynamite: This is insanity. This is reality.
Mediocre Follow-Up (The No-Name Tour) – My journal (created from posts on this blog) of my 2019 tour from Northern Indiana to San Francisco. I was surprised over and over again at how my memories seemed to get all jumbled with time. And how much I walked to get over mountain after mountain after mountain.
Connecticut Road Trip – We took a four-day mini-vacation to Connecticut where we witnessed our daughter get sworn in to the Connecticut Bar, saw some awesome trolls in Rhode Island, and had dinner with friends we hadn’t seen in over a decade.
Yesterday I rode the Great Pumpkin Ride in Fauquier County, Virginia. I have a closet full of the shirts they give out to attendees so I am pretty sure I’ve ridden this event more than a dozen times. The long-sleeved, lightweight shirts are made of technical fabric; they are excellent base layers for cold winter rides.
On Friday night, I stayed up to watch Game 2 of the World Series. I woke up before my alarm at about 4:45. Nothing like riding a 62-mile event when sleep deprived, I always say. After persuading Big Nellie onto my bike rack in the dark, I drove an hour to Warrenton and checked in a little after 7:30. The temperature was a toasty 33 degrees. Ugh.
While waiting around I found myself in conversation with another rider with an interesting English accent. He told me when he came to this country many years ago he worked as a jockey. He raced at east coast venues like Saratoga. After his riding days were over he became a horse dentist. Open wide! He goes from place to place filing down the irregularities on horses’ teeth which allows them to chew their hay better. Who knew? He loves his work. To each his own I suppose.
At 9 we set off, a mass start on a narrow rail trail. I waited a bit to avoid the insanity so I waited for most of the field to get underway. Being a slowpoke and the only recumbent in the field I took care to avoid the impatient lycra-clad roadies who were desperate to set a record on the ride. (I am pretty sure these are the same people who stand as soon as the plane reaches the gate.) Ugh again. In prior years I’ve seen these same folks crash along the course. No two-wheeled karma this year though. I suppose there is hope for the future.
In the past the course took a counter-clockwise route but this year it was reversed. The familiar seems novel when seen from a different perspective. Mostly we rode through farmland, post-harvest and pre-peak foliage. The pallet was dominated by brown leaves and fields of dirt offset by sunny blue skies. (Sorry no pictures. I was busy suffering.)
The first eight miles headed more or less downhill and east into the rising sun. Visibility was difficult. I was cruising down one hill at about 25 miles per hour when out of the sunlight I saw a road rider coming my way. WTF! He must have dropped something but he was unaware that he was backlit and nearly invisible.
The next eight miles were rolling hills through farmland. I noticed that my pedals felt funny on the uphills. Onward. I came to the first rest stop (normally one of the last) at 16.5 miles. I was expecting in a few miles later but grateful as I had a need for a blue room visit. With temperatures soaring into the mid 40s (thankfully it wasn’t windy) I changed into shorts and a vest then joined the long line for relief. The wait was about 15 minutes. Not wanting another 15 minute wait for food, I grabbed a quarter bagel from the crowded food table and set out into a more wooded section of the course.
As I negotiated each hill, that funny feeling in my pedals returned. On hills I use my granny gear, with the chain on the smallest chainring in front. The low gear creates some slack in the chain. The slack is taken up by an idler roughly under my seat.
The ride progressed uneventfully. I managed to avoid two wrong turns along the way. The terrain was rolling. With each climb that funny feeling while pedaling returned. Is my pedal or crank arm coming loose? The more I rode, the worse the feeling became. It became clear that the problem was emanating from the rear of the bike. Was my cassette (the cluster of gears in the back) coming apart? Oddly, the chain wasn’t skipping across the cogs; it was completely disengaging.
The problem worsened. I stopped using my granny gear, opting for my middle chain ring for climbing. After a few miles, the chain problem began to happen in that chainring as well. I’d been riding bikes with gears for over 50 years but nothing like this had ever happened before.
After the rolling wooded area, the course flattened out a bit. An small oncoming SAG (Support and Gear) car came by. The driver could see that I was distressed and asked if I needed help. I waved him off but he did a u-turn and pulled over to make sure I was okay. We agreed that I would continue on to a rest stop in the town of Remington where a bigger SAG vehicle could give me a ride to the finish.
As I continued to ride, I though that maybe the problem was with the rear wheel itself. I made it to a half mile before the rest stop when the back of my bike went totally wonky on the short rise to a railroad crossing. I pulled over and inspected the rear end of the bike. I picked up the back of the bike and the rear wheel dropped off! Somehow the quick release on the wheel had become disengaged. The chain had been keeping the wheel from falling off while I was riding. Dang.
Doing roadside repairs on a long wheel base recumbent is difficult. I managed to get the chain entangled with the right brake pad and to knock the left brake pad cassette out of its holder. I wrestled with the chain, then after a couple of attempts, during which I wrenched my lower back, I seated the rear axle into the frame. Finally, I coaxed the left brake pad back into its proper orientation. I lifted the wheel and gave it a spin. Bob’s your uncle.
Crossing the tracks, I immediately took a wrong turn, adding a half mile to my ride. Eventually, I found the pit stop where the SAG drivers were breaking down the food tables. (No soup for you!) They had heard about the recumbent rider in distress and were ready to help me out. No need, gentlemen. I thanked them and headed out for the next six or seven miles along the rail line, blissfully devoid of hills.
Since we rode downhill out of Warrenton at the start, it was only fair that we’d ride uphill to the finish. I felt very sluggish as I rode. At one point I stopped to see if my rear wheel was properly aligned. No problem. Right as rain. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to ride 62 miles on a quarter bagel and a Clif bar. Ya think?
On the way home I dropped off Big Nellie for some TLC at Bikes at Vienna. Take care of my baby, Tim.
As for riding, I’ll do better next Saturday when The Mule and I take on the Washington Area Bicyclists Association’s 60-mile Cider Ride. Stay tuned and check those quick release levers, y’all.
Big Nellie near the starting line (at the caboose in the background).
I turned 70 this month. Suddenly, I can say that I am feeling my age. Still I carry on with my amusements.
Riding
As in July I devoted my riding, but for riding Little Nellie to and from the car mechanic, to Big Nellie. I rode 968 miles on the latter and 3 miles on the former for a total of 971 miles for the month. My long ride was a one-way, wind-aided, 57-mile jaunt from Purcellville, Virginia to home. All but 2 1/2 miles were on trails. The sky was blue and the clouds were cotton balls. Temperatures stayed in the mid-70s with low humidity. What more can a rider ask for?
Big Nellie has taken momentarily the annual mileage lead from The Mule: 3,901 miles to 2,478 miles. I’ll be switching over the to The Mule in early September as I prepare my aged carcass for the hillfest known as the 50 States Ride. My total mileage for the year stands at 6,926.
Reading
I managed one book this month. Mark Twain by Ron Chernow. Brilliantly crafted, this biography runs to over 1,000 pages, containing everything you every thought you could possibly want to know about America’s first celebrity. Twain was a brilliant author and lecturer and an absolutely terrible businessman. He was a champion of women’s rights and a creepy old man who platonically groomed young girls. He was a supportive business partner who could become vicious and vindictive when ventures soured (as they very often did). Last year, we toured the Mark Twain house in Hartford. If you’re ever in the area, check it out. Mark Twain is on a par with the two other Chernow biographies I have read, Alexander Hamilton and Grant.
Watching
Mostly, when I wasn’t dealing with Mr. Twain, I watched baseball. After an absolutely wretched week of perhaps the worst baseball played in my lifetime, the Washington Nationals teased me with some very promising young talent. A Bluesky account has been posting, two per day, of all the players who have worn a Nationals uniform in the team’s 20-year history. It’s amazing how many players initially showed promise only to wash out. I fear that the same fate will befall many of the emerging “stars” on this year’s team. Alas, the team finished August on an 8-game losing streak.
I went to a few games. On the last day of the month I went to a day game. In the late innings, a marriage proposal was posted on the big screen in center field. This was followed by a picture of the couple. They were sitting two rows in front of me.
She said “Yes.”
The Thursday Murder Club, a new Netflix movie, featured an all-star cast – Helen Mirren, Pierce Brosnan, Ben Kingsley, Jonathan Pryce, Richard E. Grant, and David Tennant – but seemed rushed and missed the spirit of Richard Osman’s mystery novel. As the Washington Post review noted, Naomi Ackie and Celia Imrie outshined the big stars. I also agree with the WaPo review that this would have been much better as a mini-series. At least there are three more TMC books to go. (Osman’s fifth Thursday Murder Club novel comes out at the end of September.)
Medical
My PSA tests looked worrisome for a while, but my urologist thinks that it is highly unlikely that I have prostate cancer. I go back to him early next year for more anxiety.
For the first two weeks of the month, I grew increasingly worried that my right shoulder would need surgery. I took a fall a few months back during a test ride of a recumbent bike and landed flush on my upper right arm. Recently, I began to lift weights very carefully in the hopes of building strength and increasing the range of motion in that arm. It seems to be working. About two weeks ago while showering I felt pain as I was cleaning the left side of my body with my right arm. I gently grabbed my right elbow and pulled the forearm across my chest. I felt a stretching in my right shoulder. When I released my arm. there was no pain. This simple stretch seems to be working wonders. I have stopped taking pain medications and, for a several days, slept through the night. Next I will see how my arm takes to riding a conventional bike.
A Few Spokes Shy of a Wheel 