On Average. The Weather Is Lovely

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.)

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.

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.

Today, I spotted this sign in New Alexandria about a mile from the rec center.

If the weather don’t get you, the wildlife will.

November 2025

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 of Dynamite. 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.

Cider Ride 2025

Yesterday I took part in the Washington Area Bicyclists Assocation’s Cider Ride. This annual event is about 13 years old. There are three routes; I rode the longest, 60 miles. This is a relatively flat ride, involving only 2,000 feet of climbing. After riding through residential neighborhoods in Northeast DC, participants hook up with the Anacostia River Trail system. The route has used these trails for 11 years after a couple of unpleasant forays in early December on suburban streets.

This year’s version was held in cool and windy conditions. There was no rain but temperatures didn’t seem to crest 60 degrees until the last third of the ride.

I rode with Chris, Michael, and Kevin. Despite the fact that Michael was riding on a bum knee, he kept pace with Chris and Kevin who seemed comfortable rolling along at 15 miles per hour. I decidedly was not. I woefully lagged behind, bothered by a mystery noise coming from my front wheel when I applied my brakes. The first pit stop came at 13 miles at Proteus Bikes in College Park, Maryland. There, a mechanic found the cause of my aggro, a small burr on the right side of my rim. He filed it down with a sanding stone and all was copacetic thereafter.

With my companions itching to ride on, I snarfed a half a donut and a small metal cup (provided to all participants) of warm cider. The next pit stop was 23 miles away. As someone who gets about 15 miles to the donut, I regarded this as a challenge.

After the first pit stop we headed north into the Beltsville Agricultural Preserve where federal farm scientists work on such farm things. (I am a city boy so you’ll get no insights from me.) On the north-ish edge of the Preserve we turned east onto Powder Mill Road, a two-lane highway with smooth pavement and wide, paved shoulders. A couple of miles later we turned into the grounds of the Patuxent Wildlife Research Refuge where the access road wound through pretty darned amazing foliage.

We turned around and headed back the way we came taking a meander through suburban Edmonston, Maryland. At this point we began to whine about the winds which seemed to be headwinds no matter which way we turned.

Pedaling right back into the Agriculture Research Preserve, we headed straight across the mostly barren landscape on the cleverly named Research Road. Because of the shut down, a gate blocked our way but we gingerly rode in the grass around it. Take that, Congress!

Alas, the rest of Research Road climbs up the biggest hill of the ride. Just before the top we came to a gate that is always closed (to prevent commuters from cutting through the Preserve, I guess). Kevin and I walked through the narrow gap around the gate.

We rejoined the speed twins, Chris and Michael, who were waiting patiently at the top of the hill and rolled down to Pit Stop #2 at Buddy Attick Lake Park in Greenbelt. This pit stop is known for serving apple pie but there was no pie this year. (No loss. I’m not a fan.) There were donuts and cider, and plenty of bees competing for the refreshments. I had an entire donut and a cup of cider, thankfully without getting stung or swallowing any of my flying friends.

After the pit stop we returned toward the Anacostia River trail system, Along the way we passed a MAMIL (middle-aged man in lycra) who had crashed in the bike lane. He was being tended to by tow other riders so we soldiered on. Back on the trail system my youthful riding companions dropped me like a marketing call. Thankfully, they waited and led me into Hyattsville where there was some low speed congestion getting onto the Trolley Trail.

The Trolley Trail took us back to the Anacostia River trail system, around Lake Artemesia (which we rode around on the way north), and south to the final pit stop at Bladensburg Waterfront Park. Michael’s knee was starting to hurt so we made short work of the refreshments and headed south on the east side of the Anacostia.

Now Michael’s knee might have been hurting, but Kevin and I still couldn’t keep up with him and Chris. Our travels took us south on the east side of the Anacostia then back north on the west side. Here we rode around the skeleton of RFK Stadium which is being razed for a new football palace. We took the C Street protected cycletrack (which looks like it was transported from a European city. So nice!) on the gradual climb up the east side of Capitol Hill. After playing with cars for a half mile or so we picked up the 1st Street Northeast Cycletrack and connected with the Metropolitan Branch Trail which led us mercifully to the finish.

We convened for post-ride pizza (thanks Chris and Michael) and liquid refreshment at Metrobar, a repurposed Metro subway car.

I drove home with the expectation that I would fall sound asleep during the deciding game of the World Series. I glad I didn’t.

Thanks to the volunteers and WABA staff who woke up early to check us in and endured bees galore at the rest stops. Thanks to Chris, Michael, and Kevin.

And so ends my event riding season. I am pooped.

Getting ready to head back south at the Patuxent Research Refuge

Amazingly bee-free shot from Buddy Attick bee farm. Photo by Michael.

Michael’s snack at Bladensburg Waterfront Park. Photo by Michael.

We ate all the pizza! (L to R: Michael, Kevin, me, Chris). Photo by Michael.

Leaf peeping to Bethesda

For a variety of reasons, I found Saturday’s 62-mile bike ride to be frustrating and exhausting. To make matters worse, I didn’t even bother to take pictures of the beautiful scenery I was riding through.

Today’s ride was better. I left home in shorts into a 43-degree headwind, headed for Rock Creek Park in DC for some good old fashioned leaf peeping. The first ten miles were a chilly slog; I was underdressed and the headwind felt like a relentless uphill grind.

After 10 miles, roughly at National Airport, I found a rhythm. Five more miles cruising along the river brought me to the mouth of the wooded urban canyon known as Rock Creek Park.

I was happy to find that the walls of the canyon blocked the headwind making for much easier pedaling. For a few miles I rode the paved trail without a care until I arrived at the National Zoo. The trail continues along the edge of the Zoo compound, but the Smithsonian which owns the Zoo had closed off the trail because of the government shutdown. The trail which doesn’t actually go into the Zoo itself could just as easily been left open but whadareyagonnado?

Riding north in the southern part of Rock Creek Park

I duck-walked my bike on the narrow side path through the adjacent tunnel along Beach Drive, the road along the Creek. Once back in the open air, the rest of the ride was mighty sweet. The grade of the road probably averages about one percent as it winds its way along the creek. With very little traffic of any sort, the riding was peaceful and mediative. I stopped to have a snack and take pictures.

The grade is not nearly as steep as the picture shows. Easy riding.

At about 25 miles, I began the climb out of the Park and rode west a couple of miles to Bethesda where I picked up the Capital Crescent Trail for the return trip. As I started out I passed two dog walkers who had between them about a dozen dogs on leashes. The dogs seemed perfectly calm as they ambled en masse down the trail.

The riding was easy and breezy thanks to the tailwind and the gentle down grade all the way to the Potomac at the Georgetown waterfront. As the day wore on, the cloud cover was building. I wasn’t dressed for rain so I got down to business and rode without delay.

In Old Town Alexandria I encountered some mist. Is that rain? Nope, just river water churned up by my friendly tailwind.

The tailwind made the last few miles a piece of cake. I arrived home feeling much better than at any time during Saturday’s ride. Riding when your 70 is something of a crap shoot, I suppose, but just think how the Mule feels having broken the 81,000-mile mark somewhere in Alexandria today. The Mule didn’t complain once. The Mule abides.

Horse Dentists and Wonky Wheels

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).

An August Month

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.

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.

How Terribly Strange to Be 70

My odometer clicked a mighty big number this week as I turned 70 years of age, emphasis on “age”. How the hell did this happen, anyway?

Just for kicks I thought I’d look back at a selection of things I did during my 60s.

Work

Work is a four-letter word. I retired on my 62nd birthday. My first act as a free man was to purchase a seniors pass to the US National Parks.

Reading

I discovered several new authors and re-acquainted myself with old ones. A partial list includes Amor Towles, Fredrik Backman, Barbara Kingsolver, David McCullough, Eric Larson, John Green, David Grann, Michael Lewis, Bill Bryson, Richard Osman, David Goodrich, Ron Chernow, Sue Monk Kidd, Percival Everett, and Neil King.

The Arts

I am not a big concert goer. My favorite performances were by Elbow and Le Vent du Nord. I saw them both a couple of times. Similarly, plays don’t much float my boat but Patrick Page as King Lear at the Shakespeare Theater in DC was phenomenal. And when the time came, I didn’t throw away my shot to see Hamilton at the Kennedy Center. Superb.

Sports

I was at the last Washington Nationals game of the year in 2016 when they lost to the Dodgers in the playoffs. With the final out, the home crowd went from sounding like a jet engine to total silence. It was if someone threw a switch. So strange. Three years later they reached the mountain top and won the World Series against a cheating Houston Astros team. After that they began their “rebuild” which continues to this day. Well, at least I can ride my bike to the games.

Travel

With my wife as travel agent and my daughter as tour guide, I went overseas three times. First, we visited Australia, New Zealand, and Thailand. In Thailand we met up with our son who lives on Phuket. Next was Sweden, Norway, Denmark, and Iceland. We finished with a fab tour of England.

Bike Riding

I did pretty darn good in the bicycling department. For my last year and a half as a worker bee, I commuted by bike to the office full time, year round. It turns out that bike commuting 30 miles per day is pretty good prep for touring.

All told, I rode a bit over 103,000 miles since I turned 60. My peak year was 2018 when I hit 11,807 miles, thanks largely to my coast-to-coast tour. I rode over 41,000 miles on The Mule, my trusty old Specialized Sequoia.

A few years ago I became a lifetime member of the Adventure Cycling Association.

Bike Tours

I rode eight bike tours, all of them on The Mule. Easily, the highlight was my self-supported solo ride across the United States in 2018 at the age of 62. Focusing on one day at a time, I pedaled 70+ miles each day through 15 states. Before I knew it, I was smelling the salty air of the Pacific. Mind blown. In two months, I rode 4,300 miles from home to Portland, Oregon. Dang. A totally unexpected post-ride sense of afterglow lingered for weeks.

My eight tours took me through 32 states, bringing my total to 40. Alas, I think the two years lost to the pandemic (and my fear of dogs) will keep me from bagging all 50.

Of course, I didn’t ride these tours without loads of help from family, friends, Warmshowers hosts, and trail angels.

Bike Events

I rode the big three local events, the 50 States and Cider Rides in DC and the Great Pumpkin Ride in Warrenton, Virginia nearly every year. My efforts were interrupted only by the pandemic and the trip to Australia. I also rode the Backroads Century and Vasa ride (now defunct), assorted charity rides in Northern Virginia, Montgomery County, Maryland and in Baltimore as well as the Seagull Century on Maryland’s Eastern Shore.

Hiking

On my 60th birthday I managed to climb Old Rag in Shenandoah National Park. I did a few other hikes in the park, along the Appalachian Trail, in Great Falls Park, and in Prince William Forest Park before succumbing to lumbar spinal stenosis.

The Medical Merri-Go-Round

When you get old, you need to take care of your body. Things break.

At the end of 2017, I developed pulmonary embolisms from a deep vein thrombosis in my left calf. It was unfun and downright scary, especially when my right lung collapsed. I was hospitalized for three days. The recovery was gradual and by late April my hematologist gave me the green light to ride across the country.

My back succumbed gradually to lumbar spinal stenosis. After multiple cortisone shots, failed to offer relief, I began a daily routine of physical therapy. It has not been very helpful. I use a cane when I walk long distances.

Chronic left hip and knee pain during my 2019 tour from Indiana to San Francisco were resolved temporarily by edibles in Colorado. Back home, a doctor gave me some cortisone shots that set me right.

I endured a painful twelve-month recovery from whiplash after being rear ended on my recumbent by a dude in an SUV.

I had carpal tunnel surgery on my right hand this year. It seems to have done the trick.

I fell over on a recumbent I was test riding and managed to screw up my upper right arm. I had hopes the pain would go away after a while but it looks like I’ll be headed to the orthopedist this winter.

I had three colonscopies. If you get one, I’ll buy you some Ex-Lax. My cancer fun continued with four blood tests and an MRI for prostate cancer. Fortunately, I remain cancer free. Knock wood.

I continued on a routine of weight lifting until the pandemic hit. Last month, when my local fitness center re-opened after an impressive renovation, I started lifting again. It helps my old body cope.

Goodbyes

Jim Burgess, known to me and many others as Chet, died of colon cancer in 2017. He was a roommate of mine in grad school, Chet had an infectious laugh and an encyclopedic knowledge of rock and new wave music. He was the master of the mix tape.

Christian Maimone died from a heart attack in 2019. I helped him finish his first event ride, the very first Cider Ride. A couple of years later we did the Seagull Century together. He kicked my ass. He was a charming man, a devout Catholic, and a devoted husband and father.

Dave Salovesh was killed by an out-of-control driver on Good Friday in 2019. His death devastated the DC bicycling community. And me. He was a stellar human being. No words.

Anytime

As I advanced through my sixties, I learned that I have mastered a new skill: napping. In the decades ahead (who says I’m a pessimist), I intend to raise my napping competence to new levels until I take that last great big nap on the couch. In the meantime, I’ll take each mile one at a time with the rubber side down.

Cookin’ in June 2025

Weather

We’ve been dealing with heat waves and violent thunderstorms. One of the latter dropped a tree that partly fell into my yard. I worked on cleaning it up and hacking back invasive vines for an hour and was soaked in sweat by the end. I did another assault on run-away vegetation a week later and looked like I had jumped in a pool. I have a method that keeps me from doing too much; I own three 30-gallon garbage cans. Once they are filled with clippings and other debris, I stop. One more round of yard work to go and I can find another way to trash my aging bones.

Bicycling

I had three unstated goals this month. One was to reach 5,000 miles for the year. I ended the month at 5,211 miles. Yay me. I wanted to hit some thousand-mile milestones on my bikes. I hit 33,000 miles on the Tank, my Surly CrossCheck, on June 5. Five days later I hit 52,000 miles on Big Nellie, my Tour Easy recumbent. On June 25, I hit 80,000 miles on The Mule, my Specialized Sequoia touring bike. My last goal was to hit 1,000 miles for the month. This may seem like a lot but I’ve done it every year since I retired in 2017. This year I fell short by hitting only 50 miles. I guess it helps to be on a tour.

I spent the last week of the month on my recumbent to get my “bent” legs back. Recumbents stress different parts of your body so they do take some getting used to after riding conventional bikes for over a month. Once I get dialed in, and have no other problems, I’ll test ride some tadpole (two wheels in front) trikes.

Reading

1776 by David McCullough. The story of the rag tag US Continental Army’s fight against a massive British force augmented by Hessian mercenaries. British General Howe had the US forces in his hip pocket at New York but let them escape. The ultimate outcome, American independence, according to McCullough, “seemed little short of a miracle.” My last McCullough book. Not a bad one in the lot.

My Brilliant Friend by Elena Ferrante. The plot focuses on the coming of age of two girls in a working class neighborhood in 1950s Naples. Both are intellectually gifted. Their relationship evolves as they grow into their middle-teen years. Their lives become intertwined with their family and neighbors. Basically, it’s a soap opera. It sold extremely well and was praised by critics. I suppose if I had read it in one sitting I’d have liked it much more but, in the end, it wasn’t for me.

Watching

Good Night and Good Luck – CNN broadcast a live performance of this Broadway play about Edward R. Murrow’s confrontation with Senator Joseph McCarthy. It is based on the film of the same name In the film Murrow was played by David Strathairn, one of my favorite actors. Strathairn is now 76 years old so he’s aged out of the part which is taken by writer/producer George Clooney. (Clooney played Fred Friendly, Murrow’s boss, in the movie.) It was very well done. The sound, staging, and acting were all first rate. It shares one rather depressing thing with the Beatles’s Get Back. Like George Harrison in that film, Murrow is constantly smoking. Murrow died in his 50s from lung cancer. (The cloud of cigarette smoke from virtually every cast member is constant.) Harrison died from throat cancer that spread to his brain. The whole time I was watching I wanted to reach into the television and slap the cigarettes out of their mouths.

Mat Ryder Unplugged – Mat’s editing pal Ross made a 3-hour video from the massive content documenting his ride across America. This one has no commentary or music, just ambient sounds. Watching this I am a bit amazed that I rode across the continent at the ripe young age of 62. Mat also produced three new, shorter videos. One was about overhauling his bike. Another about his plans to ride mostly off-road from Land’s End to John O’Groats, the length of Great Britain. The third was about how he and Ross did a day tour riding the perimeter of the Isle of Wight.

Washington Nationals – The Nats went into a tailspin transforming from a promising team to one of the worst teams in the National League. They have a legitimate, emerging superstar in James Wood, and a couple of good starting pitchers who I pray won’t have arm problems. Where have you gone, Tony Two-Bags?

Trikes – I’ve watched countless videos on the various aspects of trikes, So many decisions: folding or not, will a rear rack impede the fold. drum or disc brakes, direct or indirect steering, three small wheels or two small ones up front and a big one in back. How would I carry stuff? Where does the water go? How will I transport it? Is the seat adjustable? Should I get one with an electric assist? It’ll probably come down to which one I like to ride the most.

Medical Merri-Go-Round

I noticed an odd looking spot near my left elbow last week. I am paranoid about getting skin cancer from my thousands of hours outdoors so I went to a dermatologist for a skin screening. It was a nothing burger. I’m of Irish and English ancestry so I burn easily. Nobody (that I know of) in my family has had skin cancer. Weird.

I continue to deal with pain in my right arm that resulted from my topple over crash on the Streetmachine that I test rode last month. Somedays I feel only mild discomfort. Other days my arm is screaming at me. I thought about going for physical therapy or I could just save myself the hassle, frustration, and expense and let time do its thing.

Little Nellie Born Again (Again)

I bought my Bike Friday New World Tourist, the bike I call Little Nellie, about 18 years ago. It was a fun bike to ride but it was tough on my back. I bought a shorter stem which helped a lot. As my body aged, the bike became less and less comfortable.

A couple of years ago I had all but given up on riding it. Nearly every day I saw a local man riding a green Bike Friday on the Mount Vernon Trail. He seemed perfectly contented with his. I noticed he had different handlebars. Mine are drop bars; his were flat bars.

In an effort to revive Little Nellie, I bought some flat bars. It made a remarkable difference in ride quality. For a while, that is. As my back aged, even the new bars were not enough to keep aches at bay. Over the last year or so, I rode Little Nellie for only about three percent of my miles. Basically, it was just taking up space.

I thought about selling the bike but there is not much of a market for Bike Fridays these days. Bike Fridays are designed to pack into a checkable suitcase to avoid oversize baggage charges. Now a days, many airlines treat bike boxes as a regular piece of luggage. Bike Friday also fold but there are better folding bikes like Dahons, Terns, and Bromptons.

Little Nellie before I changed the stem and lowered the seat.

I decided to try one more thing before giving up. I pulled the old, longer stem out of storage and put it on the bike. After doing this I compared the seat height to the seat height on my two other non-recumbent bikes. The Bike Friday’s seat was one-half to one-full inch higher. I lowered the seat a half inch.

I took the newly configured Little Nellie out for a 30-mile test ride. It rode great and didn’t make my back ache. The next day I rode it 15 miles to Friday Coffee Club. And back. Same result. On Saturday I did a 40-mile ride to and from the National Cathedral in DC. The Cathedral is the highest point in DC so this climb put Little Nellie to the test. No problem.

I woke up rather stiff this morning but still rode Little Nellie to Nationals Park for a ballgame. This was another 30 miler. No problem.

One thing I like about the Bike Friday is that its small wheels make it easy to maneuver in traffic. It turns and accelerates much better than a conventional bike. The small wheels also make the gearing lower which made the ride up to the Cathedral much less of a slog than usual. (I have often wondered why Green Gear, the makers of Bike Fridays, doesn’t make a non-folding version.)

So, long story short, I’ll be holding on to Little Nellie for a while longer. Until my back catches up to it again.

While all these shenanigans were going on, Little Nellie broke 26,000 miles.

The Continuing Adventures of Johnny Two Bents – Recumbent Test Pilot

Today was test ride number 3. After a false start, I skipped doing laps in my neighborhood and headed straight out to the main road near my house. Unfortunately, my new wireless bike computer didn’t get the message so I stopped after a half mile to try to fix it. It started then stopped then stayed on. I have no idea why it worked perfectly for the first two test rides and now was glitchy. Maybe the battery in the sensor is worn out. Time will tell.

I rode over to and across the GW Parkway. No cars were coming so I didn’t get to test my starting skills. They need work as you will see below.

I headed north toward Old Town, Alexandria by way of Fort Hunt Road. This is a 35 mph two-lane road. It features a quarter mile long downhill. I feathered the brakes and kept the top speed to 25 mph (I could easily hit 35 with more confidence.) There was a traffic light at the bottom but I had the green so once again I didn’t get to practice starting from a standstill. Over the next half mile I climbed up two small hills. Another traffic light failed to cooperate so I rode unimpeded all the way to Old Town. I encountered still another traffic light at South Washington Street. This too was green. I was beginning to think my Streetmachine had some sort of traffic light sensor on it.

I rode under the Woodrow Wilson Bridge passing through some bollards without clipping them, up Union Street, and across two sets of railroad tracks without stopping or any other incidents. I picked up the Mount Vernon Trail and rode through a chicane at a decommissioned power plant (every bike trail should have one.) Here I encountered the world’s slowest pedestrian, a young man deep in conversation on his cell phone. I couldn’t pass him because we were approaching a blind curve. (Good thing I didn’t because a bike was coming our way.) I slowed and stopped for Mr. Cellphone. When I stopped I was in the middle of a cloud of midges. Ack. It took a couple of attempts but once Mr. C cleared the blind curve I was underway again and free of the bugs.

I made it to Daingerfield Island, a convenient turn around point. Before the ride, my friend Charmaine had invited me to have lunch at a pizza place on busy Duke Street but I told her I needed to do more test riding and Duke Street is a car sewer, unsafe for test riding. She hooked up with Reba, a mutual friend. They both are bicyclists and were interested in seeing the Streetmachine. After hanging out for a bit on the Island’s river side deck, I texted Charmaine that I was heading back south.

After a couple more false starts I was underway. The ride back was a piece of cake. No issues at all. I stopped a few times to drink water and got underway with just a wobble or two each time. I crossed the GW Parkway again. I made it halfway across and had to stop at the traffic island in the middle. I made it across the second half of the highway with nary a wobble at the start.

My route took me mostly on the relatively narrow Mount Vernon Trail. I managed the width much more confidently than yesterday.

I shifted to neighborhood streets with little traffic. As I approached Fort Hunt Park I heard someone call my name. Charmaine and Reba had tracked me down by borrowing my wife’s cell phone which has a tracking app. Clever.

We had a nice chat. Then they wanted me to show off my skills. I started to push off with my right foot and lost my balance to the right. I pulled my foot off the pedal to arrest my tilt. To my surprise. my right shoelace had somehow wrapped around the pedal. When I pulled my foot off, it yanked the bike sideways and down I went. Hard, bearing most of the impact on my upper right arm. Ow.

After the appropriate interval of cussing and pain assessment, I stood up and righted the bike. The bike didn’t have a scratch on it. Me not so much. I had a nasty straight line cut above my left ankle (from either a pedal or the big cog on my chainring). I also had some road rash near my right knee. Reba, being a nurse, insisted that I clean my wounds and even provided some unopened bottle water and clean paper towels.

Once I cleaned up I got going and did a few turns for my audience. Then we parted ways and I rode into the park. Oddly, my front derailer stopped working. The shifter kept slipping into my (easiest) granny gear. I stopped and checked the cable. All good. I tried riding holding the shifter in place but found this annoying and let the chain drop onto the granny gear for the last three miles of my ride.

There is a silver lining in these clouds. Since I was stuck in my small chainring, I discovered that starting in the granny gear is quite a bit easier than using the middle or large chainrings.

Interestingly, the distractions of the computer and the shifter meant that I wasn’t paying much attention to my riding technique. I was riding on automatic pilot and the last couple of miles went by very smoothly.

I called Tim Fricker for advice about the shifter. He explained a simple adjustment was all that was needed.

As for the bike computer, I’ll probably put a new battery in. If that doesn’t work, I’ll take it back to the shop.

Another 31 miles in the books. Tomorrow, another nice weather day, will be the final test ride. Hopefully, I will keep the rubber side down for this one.

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