Tag: cycling

December 2024

Riding

Once I hit 10,000 miles on December 14, I tapered my riding. Mostly I was focussed on getting used to the new Catalyst platform pedals on The Mule. They work great. I did develop some left hip pain at the end of the month so I need to tweak my saddle position some more.

I rode 28 days out of 31. My long ride of the month came on the 30th when I rode 47 miles (in shorts!) to Bikes at Vienna and back to drop off some bicycling books. (They have a mini-free library.) I totalled 771 miles with 171 miles indoors on my Tour Easy recumbent. The Mule, and all that pedal testing, kicked in 418 miles.

Maybe my best move of the month came off the bike when I discovered a few new stretches for my upper back. These greatly reduce the discomfort from the pinched nerve in my upper back and allow me to hold my head up instead of hunched over like a mad texter.

Watching

After Sun. Paul Mescal plays a divorced dad on vacation with his 11-year old daughter (Frankie Corso) on the Turkish coast. A coming-of-age character study of the girl; a portrait of clinical depression of the father. Mescal was nominated for best actor.

Walking from Boston to New York City on the Old Post Road – A YouTube video of a man who (nearly) goes the distance. I lived in Boston and Providence and have visited many places along his route. The old New England clapboard houses, stone walls, and graveyards made me realize how I didn’t appreciate my time there. The traffic and scuzzy businesses not so much.

All the Devils Are Here: How Shakespeare Invented the Villain: A one-man tour de force in which Patrick Page takes us through the progression of villains in Shakespeare’s plays. Just incredibly good.

Conclave – Ralph Fiennes, John Lithgow, Stanley Tucci, and Isabella Rossellini and a host of others in a suspenseful story about the election of a Pope. Dang them Cardinals are nasty. Excellent.

Reading

Call for the Dead by John Le Carre. Le Carre’s first book and the introduction of George Smiley. My mother was a big Le Carre fan but this is the first time I’ve read one of his books. Le Carre describes secret agent Smiley as “Short, fat, and of a quiet disposition, he appeared to spend a lot of money on really bad clothes, which hung about his squat frame like skin on a shrunken toad.” Hardly James Bond. It seems odd that Smiley is played by Alex Guiness and Gary Oldham in movies.

In the Woods by Tana French. French’s debut novel is a police procedural about Dublin detectives working to solve the murder of a tween-aged girl. The contemporary crime is complicated by the disappearance of two similarly aged kids 20 years before. An entertaining who-dun-it.

The Likeness by Tana French. The follow-up to In the Woods. It’s a good read but the story is based on an utterly unbelievable premise; an undercover cop assumes the identity of a murder victim (who was using the name of the cop’s previous undercover identity). The victim’s housemates, thinking the victim survived the attack, completely believe the undercover cop is their roommate. Give me a break. Aside from this, it was an entertaining book.

Bike Tripping by Tom Cuthbertson. My friend Beth posted a picture of this book, published in 1972, on her social media. I knew I had a copy, purchased in 1979 during my summer in the Bay Area. I decided to re-read it and found it very interesting from an historical perspective. In my adult lifetime, bicycles, bicycling, and bicycle gear have changed markedly. Today’s bikes are orders of magnitude better than 50 year ago. Components and lights are vastly improved. And, thankfully, bicycle infrastructure is also more widespread and better designed (for the most part).

Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan. My first Christmas gift book of 2024. A novella about a man who is encounters the evil of the Magdalen laundry in his small Irish town at Christmas time. Wonderful.

On Bicycles: A 200 Year History of Cycling in New York City by Evan Friss. Another Christmas gift. This book tells the story of the wheel from the first short-lived velocipedes in 1819 to the boom in bike infrastructure and the Citibike bikeshare system in the 2010s and 2020s. I wasn’t expecting much (oh how I hate New York City parochialism) but this was a very well written and informative history.

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.

September 2024 – Wet/Nice/Wet

The weather in September 2024 in the mid-Atlantic suffered from bipolar disorder. It started out rainy but then we were treated two two weeks of gorgeous weather. The last two weeks have been a washout. Fortunately for me, when it rains this time of year, the droplets are warm. Riding in the rain has actually been kind of pleasant.

Biking

With both The Mule and The Tank back from the bike shop, I was ready to ride my steeds into autumn. During the nice weather weeks, I did a 56-mile ride in the Virginia Piedmont. I wasn’t feeling all that strong at the start but I listened to Mitch McConnell and I persisted. I was aided by a MASSIVE club sandwich at a country store in Orlean at the 20-mile mark. The climb up Naked Mountain was pretty tough, even with the new, lower gearing on The Mule. The traffic and rumble strips on US Highways 17 and 50 was nasty but I had a good time regardless. I followed this ride with a couple of 40+ mile rides, one on The Mule near Middleburg, Virginia and the other on The Tank in Talbot County, Maryland. The latter featured me running out of gas on the drive to the start and a pleasant 10-minute ferry ride.

Otherwise I solved my where-will-I-ride-today problems by running errands by bike. My bikes took me to a building supply place in suburban car hell, to a pharmacy to get a flu shot, to the polls to vote, to a diner to have breakfast with my wife, to Nats Park three times, to Friday Coffee Club four times, on a fruitless search for the best Italian sub in DC, and on a tour of auto body shops to find a good place to take my car (my neighbor backed into my car with his big pick up truck a couple of days ago).

The Washington Area Bicyclist Association’s 50 States Ride came around on the calendar and I was once again joined by a fabulous posse. This year we had Michael, Kevin, Chris, and Sara back from last year and several new additions. New friends of the posse included Neena, Richard, Imogen, Wolfgang. Mac, Constance and, at the next to last pit stop special guest John. This was my 16th 50SR and one of the toughest. Many of us will be riding together on the WABA Cider Ride in early November. There will be pie.

For the month I logged 940 miles, my first sub-1,000-mile month since May. I will begin October with 7,945 miles for the year. If I average a little over 22 miles a day until the end of December, I’ll break 10,000-mile mark for the seventh straight year.

Watching

Baseball – The Nationals closed out the season by bringing up a bunch of young players from the minors. And the results were pretty much as expected. Mediocrity. The best thing the Nats have going for them is the bike valet at the ballpark, conveniently located 15 miles from home.

Movies – Monsieur Spade is a six-part noir mini-series in which an old Sam Spade gets involved in shenanigans in a French town. Everyone is trying to find a young boy, but why? Like the Maltese Falcon, the boy is a classic McGuffin. Clive Owen plays Spade. Understanding the plot requires some knowledge of French involvement in Algeria in the 1950s. Unfortunately, this info isn’t provided until the next to last episode.

From Russia with Lev – A documentary about how a Ukrainian grifter became an intermediary for Rudy Giuliani and Donald Trump in Ukraine, helped Trump get impeached, and destroyed himself and many others in the process. Absolutely fascinating how a nobody could become a close associate of an incompetent and corrupt president.

VIdeos – I looked forward to the end of each week to watch the latest installment of Mat Ryder‘s ride across the country.

Reading

North Woods by Daniel Mason. The tale of events in a single home somewhere in western Massachusetts. The story begins in the 1600s and continues episodically into the 21st Century. Along the way, it touches on aspects of American history including the Puritans, apple farming, abolitionism, murder, lobotomies, the loss of native flora and fauna, and more. Sound weird? It’s not. A very fine book.

The Last Murder at the End of the World by Stuart Turton. This one’s a whodunit set on a island after an apocalyptic event. Rather than explain why, let’s just say this one wasn’t my cup of tea. After 200 pages and dozens of red herrings, I could not have cared less who did the murder or why.

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.

Gassed and Windblown

With the prospect of several days of rain ahead, I decided to drive over to Easton, Maryland to do a ride on level ground. The ride would include cool grave yards, colonial era towns, a ferry, and corn and soy fields. Most importantly there would be no hills.

There being no hills, I opted for The Tank, my Surly Crosscheck. This bike is heavy and, despite a recent modification to its gearing, is best used on this kind of terrain.

I have put about 1,000 miles on my 2009 Honda Accord this year. The last time I bought gas it cost me about $3.70 per gallon. My wife, who drives considerably more, has been telling me about finding gas for under $3.00. With a fuel gauge indicating I had a tad less than 1/8th of a tank, I headed out to the Eastern Shore of Maryland in search of cheap fuel. No problem. My gas tank holds 19 1/2 gallons.

By the time I reached the Bay Bridge, I had gone about 50 miles. My fuel gauge indicated that my tank was empty but, as we all know, the needle on the fuel gauge always goes below empty before the tank is truly empty, right?

I made it over the Bay Bridge and started scouting out a gas bargain. I passed a dozen gas stations, all of which had prices in the high $2.90s. With the needle in the empty, red zone, I continued on. Some basic math indicated that I should have plenty of fuel left. As the highway turned toward Easton, I passed a gas station that was partially obscured by some box trucks. No worries, I’ll just go to the next one.

There wasn’t another station for over 20 miles.

With the station in sight on the opposite side of the divided highway, I was about to change lanes to turn toward it when my car said, “Not today”. The engine sputtered once then cut out. Did you know that cars lose speed remarkably quickly when they run out of fuel. A total car bonk! The traffic behind me not so much.

I looked to the right and saw that there was no shoulder, only a drainage ditch. Eek.

Luckily the turn for the gas station was at a signalized intersection with right and left turn lanes. I guided the car into the right turn lane and rolled to a depressing stop.

With my emergency flashers on, I decide to hoof it to the station. I emptied one of my three water bottles to use as a gas container and started out. Cars were lining up at the red light. A white SUV rolled up and the driver asked me if I was okay. I explained my situation and he asked, “Would you like a gas can?”

Yeah, buddy.

He turned onto the road to the right, stopped, and pulled a small gas can out of the back of his hatchback. I thanked him profusely and told him I’d be back in a few minutes. After a long wait to cross the highway at the light, I made it to the gas station, bought about 2 gallons of fuel and headed back to my car.

On the way back, a passenger in a different car waiting at the red light leaned out the window and said something like “I hope your day gets better.” Despite the hassle of running out of gas, I realized at that moment that I wasn’t the least bit upset. After all, I had been driving for 52 years and this was the first time I had run out of gas.

My car, and my bike on a rack on the rear, thankfully, had not been rear ended. I decanted the gas into the gas tank then drove to the side street to return the can. The SUV was nowhere to be found. I stood around holding the orange/red gas can high so that perhaps my Good Samaritan would see me. No luck. In the end I drove off to Easton with an empty gas can and some heartfelt gratitude.

Once in Easton I saw a sign for $2.85 gas. Yes! When I got to the pump, I saw that it was a special rate for Royal Farms club members. I being a Royal Farms philistine paid $2.97. When karma meets irony, you pay the man, Shirley.

As for the ride, it was a tad shorter than planned. I stitched the ride together from the excellent brochure from Talbot County (of which Easton is the county seat). The brochure shows six rides of between 26 and 38 miles. Color coded maps and cue sheets are included. And one master map shows all six rides. I started on the blue route, switched to the brown route, then planned to finish on the green route.

The first 15 miles on the blue route featured a strong tailwind out of the east. I zoomed from Easton to Saint Michaels with ease. After meandering in Saint Michaels for a while, I headed east into the wind, crossing the Tred Avon River on the Bellevue-Oxford ferry. From Oxford I continued east, switching to the brown route, a tour of interesting old graveyards. Along the way, I watched farmers in their big corn harvesting machines taking in the last crop of the season. The machines look like massive green barber shears on wheels.

At Dover Road I turned to join the green route, a tour of more farms, mostly soy and corn. Somehow I managed to miss a turn and ended up on a highway that would cross the Choptank River. I checked the Google and realized that crossing the river would add about several windy miles to my ride.

Having already ridden about 20 miles into a strong headwind, I decided to pack it in and reversed course back to Easton, going off route in the interest of exploring some backroads. It was a good decision. Forty one windy miles was enough for me on this day.

I highly recommend the brochure. If you are looking to get away from the city and want some easy, low-stress riding, Talbot County is a good choice. The ferry ride is my favorite, but make sure to check the ferry schedule. Also, bring cash for the $7 one-way fare.

Saint Michaels
When there are no cars waiting, bicyclists and pedestrians can summon the Bellevue-Oxford ferry with this signal
The Tank on the Talbot
New pavement, pine needles, no traffic. Works for me.
The rail trail in Easton.

Going long for sunflowers

Two of the highlights of summer in the DC are the Lotus and Water Lily Festival at Kenilworth Aquatic Gardens and the sunflower blooms in the exurbs. I went to Kenilworth three times this summer. It’s a little over 20 miles from home. The only downside to going there is the fact that the flower ponds have no shade. The flowers are pretty but the heat and humidity are intense. No complaints from me though. Pick a lotus blossom and stare and your brain goes to a quiet place.

One problem with these two events is that they occur at nearly the same time. Fields of sunflowers can be found in many places but McKees-Beshers Wildlife Management Area in Maryland is pretty easy to access by bike. Easy, that is, if you don’t mind riding a long way.

The sunflower fields are a little over 40 miles from my house. What better way to see if I still got it. I haven’t ridden over 75 miles in a day in over a year. My tour fiasco this summer combined with my upcoming birthday (don’t ask) has eroded my self confidence.

I took The Mule to Bikes at Vienna the other day. It needed some serious TLC. Because of staff illnesses and the usual summer repair surge, they are backed up big time. No worries. I have other bikes.

Gulp.

Recently I have ridden Big Nellie, my Tour Easy recumbent. Recumbents are normally ideal for people with bad backs. Despite the fact that I have put 51,000 miles on this bike, I have lately been experiencing nerve pain after riding it.

That leaves me with Little Nellie, my wee Bike Friday, and the Tank, my Surly CrossCheck. The former is tough on my lower back on long rides. The latter has been such bad news for my neck that I have all but ignored the bike for three months.

No guts, no glory. I decided to ride The Tank. Three days ago, I took it for a 40-mile ride, an out and back affair on the paved Washington and Old Dominion trail. The trail from Vienna to Leesburg transitions from suburbs to towns to fields of data centers to somewhat wooded areas. Northern Virginia farms used to grow bites; now they grow bytes. I had 19 deer and two bunny sightings during my ride. When I finished my neck and back felt fine.

The next day I rode The Tank another 40 miles. This time I rode to Friday Coffee Club. After that I rode to northeast DC to scout out the parking situation for September’s 50 States Ride. (It’ll be my 16th. The posse is looking good!) After a stop at home, I did an errand run to the local pharmacy. Once again my back and neck felt fine afterward.

Yesterday, after sleeping only about three hours then procrastinating all morning, I took off for the sunflowers. I rode the Mount Vernon Trail to Georgetown where I picked up the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal towpath. After three miles I climbed up a steepish hill to MacArthur Boulevard. This road goes straight to Great Falls, Maryland with just one hill along the way.

In Great Falls I switched back to the towpath for about 13 miles. I saw egrets and herons and deer along the way. After crossing Seneca Creek I took an unpaved path through the woods to River Road. River Road is a hilly, two-lane road that is a favorite of speeding drivers. The hill west from Seneca Creek is steep and long, not the kind of thing The Tank is good at. We made it to the top after which I heard a creepy skidding noise behind me. An SUV driver had slammed on its brakes and slid on the glazed asphalt. A few seconds later he stomped on the gas and blew by me with engine groaning.

A couple of miles later I came to the parking lot for the sunflower field. (There are more than one but I’d already ridden 40 miles. No need to go further.) Having left my cane at home, I used The Tank as support for my short walk to the field. The flowers nearest the parking lot were short and dried out. I continued to the far side of the field along the electric fence which has been added since my last visit. I stopped when I saw what I came for. Peak bloom. Dang.

Time to head back. I retraced my route knowing that I had not eaten enough (just a few cookies) since breakfast. Despite being nearly flat, the towpath can be a grind. No gliding , just grinding. This is what the Tank was designed to do.

At Great Falls, I realized that I was flirting with a serious bonk. Time get serious. I switched back to MacArthur, thankful for the smooth asphalt. With about 20 miles to go, I switched back to the towpath for a few miles. This section of the towpath is the bumpiest part and my arms started to grow weary of absorbing the shock. The palms of my hands started to blister, the result of wearing five-year old gloves. Dumb.

The ride back on the MVT was business as usual. Arriving at home, you could put a fork in me. I was done.

Once again, my neck and back were fine. Go figure.

Today I did an easy 30-mile recovery ride. I only felt tired near the end.

I don’t know what I am happier about doing 81 miles, my first time over 80 miles in over a year, or riding The Tank without pain for the first time in two years.

Totally worth the effort.

The towpath. Not a bad way to get around.

A great blue heron waiting on dinner in the canal.

Widewater, a section of the canal 12 miles from Georgetown.

June 2024 – Dog Days Came Early

It’s the last day of June. Time to assess.

It is a rare thing when one of your very best days on a bike comes a day after one of your worst but that’s what happened to me this month. The ride from Draper to Whytheville was a gawdawful slog. The ride from Whytheville to Damascus was joyful. Go figure.

Multiple dog attacks over the course of two days completely ruined my interest in continuing my tour this year. When people who know the scene tell you to carry bear spray, it’s time to stop which is what I did. Since then I’ve been looking through journals on Cycleblaze.com and Crazyguyonabike.com to see if I had overreacted. Nope.

Only a couple of bike tourists made it through “dog alley” between the Kentucky border and Berea, Kentucky unscathed. Two were bitten. Two were knocked off their bikes.

I filled out a survey about the US Bicycle Route System a couple of days ago. I commented repeatedly that my route US Bike Route 76, in Kentucky is downright dangerous because of the dog situation. It’s a shame because, despite the brutal climbs from Charlottesville to Berea, the USBR 76 is worthwhile.

I finished the tour with something like 835 miles under my pedals. After taking a day off, I rode 17 days in a row around home. During these period I tweaked my saddle and handlebar height to good effect on both The Mule and The Tank. Yesterday in high heat and humidity I rode up one of the steepest, nastiest hills in the area and didn’t die. (The last 100 yards were most unpleasant but I made it without stopping.)

With a nearly rain-free month, I cracked the 1,000-mile threshold at the end of the month, reaching 1,089 miles. For the year I’ve reached 4,991 miles, on pace for a shade over 10,000 miles, despite taking two weeks off. I have no designs on another bike tour this year (although the Natchez Trace is tempting.)

Maybe the best thing that’s happened this month is the big reduction in neck and back pain I have experienced. I was pretty miserable all fall and winter, but a visit to a massage therapist in May and a series of daily PT exercises have paid huge dividends. I am standing up straighter. I have most of the range of motion in my neck back (although the saddle tweaks aren’t helping in this regard.) And I can walk about 50 percent farther without experiencing pain in my lower back.

The Mo Mo Tour: Day 18 continued – That’s a Wrap

I went to the rental car place as soon as it opened. They did not have the SUV I reserved. Instead I settled for a white Dodge Charger. I was prepared to drive to WalMart up the hill to buy a bike rack if necessary but the Charger’s back seats folded down giving me room for The Mule and all my stuff. Impressive. (Note: I did have to take off the front wheel and lower my seat.)

The drive to Berea went on a parkway west to London and north to Berea on an interstate. It took about two hours because, despite my sporty car, my brain had been dealing with 3 to 35 miles per hour for over two weeks. Big trucks were zooming past me as I puttered along.

The terrain was very mountainous until I arrived at Berea (the second “e” is long). It was like someone threw a big geological switch; the town was basically flat.

The drive gave me time to think. The original point of this tour was for me to complete the eastern third of the TransAm. I had already bypassed 20 miles of it from Hindman to Hazard. Now I had blown off roughly 110 more in the car.

Most journals I read were all dated five or more years ago They made it sound like the dog problem was no big deal but the eastbound rider I met at the Cookie Lady’s house was still stressed out about his dog experiences in Kentucky over a week later. The hostel contact in Booneville sounded downright scary. The rental agency person in Hazard had all kinds of tales about indifferent dog (and pony!) owners. Owners who don’t neuter their animals so when the puppies get big enough they turn them loose in the woods. A person in Berea told me that Booneville is near an old coal mining area. Since strip mines have taken over, these old coal mining families are screwed and bitter.

(Another thought about doing chemical warfare with loose dogs: I have ridden past a half dozen gun shops, most of which displayed signs advertising AR-15 style semi automatic weapons. Gulp. My wife’s uncle Terry lives in southern West Virginia. When you drive onto his property there is a sign that say’s “You are in range.” Terry’s a pretty funny guy but I’m not entire sure he’s joking. And he isn’t economically distressed like these Kentucky folks. (I’m pretty sure Terry doesn’t have an AR-15 but

So I get to Berea and I have a choice. Do I continue on by bike in a totally stressed out mental state? I took two Advil PMs last night and still didn’t sleep a wink. I am physically and mentally exhausted. The dog problem is supposedly no big deal west of Berea but I really, really, really do not want to deal with them anymore. It was time to call it a tour and head home.

So I investigated my options. I can fly for free on Southwest with credit card points so I checked to see where the nearest airport was on Southwest’s route system. It was Louisville, about 160 miles by bike. Not gonna happen. I called U-Haul in Berea. They only had a 15-foot truck which would have cost over $500. Nope. However, the U-Haul guy said to talk to the car rental agency in Berea. Maybe there was something we could work out.

So I went to the car rental agency and talked with Chelsea, a very intelligent and personable person. She said it was indeed possible to do a one-way rental. All she had to do was talk to someone up the corporate food chain. That person freed up her software to allow her access to interstate one-way rentals. So we closed out my rental agreement from Hazard and opened a new one. Recognizing that I had been needlessly charged for the Hazard to Berea rental, she marked down the price of my trip from Berea to home. Chelsea is the best,

So for the cost of having someone pack and ship my bike, I hit the road in a sports car, driving over 500 miles from Kentucky to home. Google Maps has a sense of humor. It routed me through central West Virginia on two-lane mountain roads for about an hour.

Now that I’ve had a day to mull it over, I can’t exactly call this a failure. After all, I did end up riding 840 miles which is more miles than my 2000, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2015, and 2016 tours.

That said, I have to admit that my last two tours have been a mental challenge for me. I love the riding parts of the tours. I won’t soon forget the fantastic ride to Damascus on this tour, for example. But I can really live without church hostels, campgrounds, Warmshowers homes, hotels, lousy GSCS food, etc. As my toddler son used to say over 25 years ago, “I want to go home. I want to sleep in my own bed.”

My advice to anyone who is planning to do the TransAm is: don’t. It’s glory days are long gone. The dog situation in Kentucky is just one example. Many of the towns in Kansas on the route are virtual ghost towns. The traffic in eastern Oregon is godawful. The legendary bike accommodations in Guffey CO are dreadful.

When the TransAm was designed in the mid-1970s, touring bikes were heavy and had ten-speeds and only rear racks. I can’t imagine how the first riders did the whole 4,000+ miles. (A friend who participated in Bikecentennial, the 1976 event for which the TransAm was established said that she was doing fine until Kentucky. Her knees were trashed when she finally left the Appalachians.

There is a new alternative to the eastern half of the TransAm. The Eastern Express goes from DC to Colorado in a more or less straight line. It was designed specifically to avoid the dogs and hills of Appalachia and the Ozarks. Or design your own route as I did in 2018.

And for a two-week tour, Yorktown to Damascus isn’t bad idea.

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.