Tag: Friday Coffee Club

Return to Friday Coffee Club

I haven’t been to Friday Coffee Club since it moved from Swings House of Caffeine near the White House to A Baked Joint on the eastern side of downtown last March. Depsite the fact that most #bikedc folks are out of town, Ted announced that he was going to Friday Coffee Club when ABJ opened at 9 am. Ricky soon through his helmet into the ring. I decided that if I woke up early enough, I’d enter the fray.

I woke up at 5:45.

Jeez.

I hopped on Big Nellie and headed to DC riding most of my commute route on my day off. It took me about 1:15 to get there. I was thankful that traffic was very light. This may have been because nearly every one in town appeared to be line up outside the new Museum of African American History on the mall.

I swooped and wiggled my way through downtown.

Ricky was already inside. Soon Ted and Jean (knitting a wool sock) showed up. Then Ed and Mary, Reba and Robert, Sam and Jeff, and Joe and Kathy. Not a bad crowd considering it was black Friday. It was a good mix of people and the conversation was just as lively as I remembered it. I am glad I went. And, in fact, I stayed for a good 2 hours before leaving and following Reba and Robert on a meander through downtown to get to the 14th Street Bridge. Traffic was Sunday-ish.

We made it to the Mount Vernon Trail and headed south while R&R headed north. The ride home was rote but the trail was empty. The betting was heavy and Stewball was there. No wait….my brain must be having an day off too.

And so I managed to get some exercise, see some old friends, and avoid the velociraptors.

Success.

 

 

Bittersweet Friday

Today was a bittersweet Friday.

I had a two-tailwind commute. That’s pretty sweet.

In the morning, I rode past the Tidal Basin with the cherry trees in peak bloom and there were hardly any tourists. (I think the forecast of rain that held off until later scared people away.) That’s pretty sweet.

In the evening, I rode through a tunnel of blossoms to Hains Point and back. That’s pretty sweet.

I arrived at Friday Coffee Club and it was packed. Everybody seemed to be in a good mood. That’s pretty sweet.

And it was my last one. That’s a bitter cup of joe.

Friday Coffee Club started a little over four years ago as a get together with five bike commuting friends: Ed, Mary, Brian, Lane, and Lisa. Soon, like me, others joined. Ages ranged from one to 62. (I’ll never tell.) It became a thing. I became fascinated with the almost bizarre diversity of the crowd. Journalists, writers, editors, economists, lawyers, IT professionals, college administrators, grad students, librarians, Congressional staffers, candidates for public office, chemists (okay, just one), world travelers, randonneurs, marathon runners, bike shop owners, musicians, engineers, and on and on. If you couldn’t find someone interesting to talk with, you were probably dead from the neck up.

I heard about people visiting places like Afghanistan and McMurdo Station at the South Pole.  How often do you have coffee with someone who argued a case before the Supreme Court the day before?  It was at Friday Coffee Club I learned about how you deal with seasickness when scuba diving. (Don’t ask.) The last time I read Green Eggs and Ham was at Friday Coffee Club.

Friday Coffee Club

Maybe what has been even more interesting is how nice these people are.

Okay, everyone except Brian.

Just kidding.

M.E. Swings at 17th and G Streets Northwest has been the home of Friday Coffee Club since its inception. The Swings building is being renovated and Swings will close for 14 months. A new venue called A Baked Joint has been chosen. It’s on the far side of downtown which makes it too far from my office to attend.

Friday’s are going to be tough.

 

In the Swing with the Errandonnee

It was Friday. So I rode to Friday Coffee Club. It was warm so the clubbers were outside. The place was mobbed. At the end of the month, Swings House of Caffeine, the only home Friday Coffee Club has ever known, is closing for a year while the building is being renovated. The temporary interim site is a bit too far afield for me.  So my days of going to Friday Coffee Club are numbered.

Errand #1025397285380_7eca9b5bf2_m

Category: Social

Miles: 32

Observation: Friday Coffee Club has been such as success that I don’t know half the people who go these days. And it is so crowded that I often don’t get a chance to talk to the people I do know. What a complainer. I think I need a cup of coffee.

IWBTWD – Catchy, no?

Today was International Winter Bike to Work Day. I think it’s really for some sort of demented  bragging rights. Also for stupidly long hashtagging. Actually, it’s International Northern Hemisphere Winter Bike to Work Day because what’s the point of bragging about riding to work in Perth when it’s 80 degrees outside.

Yesterday was a telework day. The only bike related thing I did all day was to attend a 24966240255_e9de876daa_mWABA happy hour. This was 2 miles from my office which would have been easy to ride to had I not been teleworking. I drove instead because there isn’t a whole lot happy about riding a bike 17 miles in the freezing cold, having a beer, and riding the bike 17 miles in the freezing colder. Bike to happy hour is best done in the summer when you can have a beer outdoors while Colin Powell poses for a picture nearby.
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This morning the thermometer read 22. I was prepared to wear tights under my bike shorts under my rain pants. The lack of wind convinced me to downgrade the tights to wicking briefs (that is underpants made of non-cotton farbic). In a mile I knew I had nailed my winter biking attire. I was perfectly comfortable all the way to Friday Coffee Club. Along the way I stopped to admire the heavenly smile of daybreak at Dyke Marsh.

I was intent on getting to Coffee Club with time enough to enjoy myself. I rode as fast as my three layers of clothing with hiking boots and 25 pounds of pannier stuff would allow. I focused on my pedaling and breathing which pretty much put me in the trance mode for several miles.

Along the way my front wheel acted up. Every time I hit my front brake, the brake would bite the rim once during each wheel revolution. I couldn’t find a bump in the rim but this was not a good development.

I made it by 8:05 and could take my time conversing. Felkerino managed to inadvertently flip a saucer into the air where it knocked over my water glass sending ice water onto my head gear. It was a stunt that would have made Rube Goldberg proud. My buff – which covers my face in winter – was wet but I managed to get everything else out of harm’s way. Need less to say, the two mile, buffless ride to the office was eye opening.

During the day I managed to dry my buff (now doesn’t that sound interesting?) so I was all set to ride home. The ride home featured a headwind which was a bit annoying. My brake problem was not annoying because it had disappeared. Also not annoying was the fact that I rode more than halfway home without turning my headlight on.

Hurry spring.

 

 

 

 

It’s a Wonderful Cake

The day began with a bike commute into DC for Friday Coffee Club. Today we celebrated its fourth anniversary.  The founding members were three randonneurs Ed (a.k.a. Felkerino, Mr. Mary) and Mary (a.k.a. Coffeeneur, Gypsybug, Mrs. Ed), and Lane (currently in an undisclosed location), along with Brian (DBA Gear Prudence), and Lisa (with whom I’ve done many, many rides). I knew Ed and Mary through Flickr but Mary got me onto Twitter and from there to Friday Coffee Club sometime in late winter/early spring of 2012.

Swings House of Caffeine (at 17th and G Streets NW) is the scene of the crime. On Fridays the place is packed with bike commuters. The promise of cake made for a big turnout today. I had a cake biopsy as Ed was conserving the remnants of the once mighty cake for late arrivals. I suppose we can call this Felkerino’s birthday cake dichotomy.

I didn’t get to talk to half the people there including a newcomer. I am getting worse and worse at greeting newcomers which is disappointing. When I first started to go, I fought my introversion and made it a point to introduce myself.  Probably doesn’t matter; I’d forget their name anyway.

Late last night I was invited to a happy hour that began at 4:30 on Capitol Hill. Too early for me. Around noon, I was invited to another happy hour at 5:30 in Northeast. (Can’t we spread all this socializing out a bit people?) I really wanted to go to this one to congratulate a friend, who I will call Clarence. Clarence recently passed an important professional exam. The idea of riding across town at rush hour, then hanging out in the city and then riding 15 miles home in the cold and dark was not appealing. I thought I could ride home, grab dinner, then drive into the city, but I left work late, totally screwing up the timing. So I made my apologies to Clarence. She told me to have a safe ride home.

(On the way home two things happened that were disturbing. First, I passed workers setting up a boom to contain oil that had been spilled somehow into the Potom24840585465_66664cdc2d_mac River It’s a mystery how the spill occurred but it is already affecting waterfowl. About eight miles later on a dark section of the trail I nearly took out a ninja. The man was walking toward me on the left side of the trail, my side. He appeared in the edges of my headlight’s circle of light. I went to pass on the left, he stepped left. I went right. He went right. I nearly stopped as he hopped off the trail. “Excuse me,” he said without a hint of sarcasm. I stifled a “What the fuck are your DOING?!!!” and continued on my way. Damned good thing I didn’t have anything to drink.)

I owe you one, Clarence. (Again.) Maybe a mulled wine, heavy on the cinnamon and light on the cloves.

So proud of you.

 

 

 

 

 

Beautiful Ride – Ugly Reality

The day began with crisp fall air. I was ready for it as I pit on my vest, arm warmers, and head band. Dressed perfectly, I headed north on the Mount Vernon Trail bound for DC and Friday Coffee Club. The ride in went so smoothly that as I rode onto the 14th Street Bridge over the Potomac River I had that strange how-did-I-get-here sensation. A tailwind and fresh legs (I drove to work yesterday) probably helped.

Coffee Club was crowded. It was good to see some faces that I haven’t seen in over a month. This definitely eased my recent feeling of social ennui.

I rode to work on the narrow side path on the Teddy Roosevelt Bridge. I stop for DC-bound cyclists because there just isn’t enough room to pass on the fly. One of them asked me if the bridge was one-way. He was new to DC and he couldn’t believe the trail was so narrow. I assured him it wasn’t. Welcome to the land of improving bicycling infrastructure.

I left work and head for home, once again assisted by a trail wind. It was a similar vibe to the morning. No discernible effort involved. I barely broke a sweat. My delight in this wonderful autumn commute came to an end. I stopped to take a picture of this sign posted next to the trail north of Old Town Alexandria just after the Slaters Lane turn off.

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It’s a sad reality to the women of this area that enjoying area trails comes with this risk.

Not 100 feet after starting up again I was passed by an on-coming woman running. She had earbuds in her ears.

Every safety expert I know warns against doing this. I know it sucks and it’s unfair but you are responsible for your own safety. Whether you are trying to avoid a potential human assailant or a garbage truck you need to hear what’s going on around you.

Speech over.

The rest of the ride was thankfully peaceful. For me at least.

Be careful out there.

Stubborn Denial

I don’t know who to blame but the weather today looked springlike but felt like winter. The wind was blowing. It was about 20 degrees below normal. And I, of course, was in denial. I stupidly left the house underdressed for the cold and froze my ass off riding to Friday Coffee Club. I I did manage to see one bald eagle on the way but this bird had its back to me as it was taking in the early morning sun. He was probably thinking: “I will not look at a fool.”

Since the calendar says April 24, the Friday Coffee Club gang sat outside in the shade. I was tempted to pour my coffee over my head but I drank it instead. I endured the cold for about 45 minutes before jumping on my bike and riding into the teeth of a now-stronger wind as I made my way up G Street through George Washington University. This is no fun, thought I.

I thought things would improve once I cleared the wind tunnel formed by the buildings of Foggy Bottom. Wrong. It got worse. Much worse. The headwind turned into a side wind as I cross the Potomac on the too narrow side path on the Teddy Roosevelt bridge. The damned wind nearly knocked me over several times. Ayyy!  I don’t know if the little wheels on Little Nellie were contributing to my wobbliness. (Yes, that’s a word because I just used it.)

My the time I reached the Virginia side of the river, the right side of my face was numb. Memo to God: this is April! Please hit the reset button. K? Thx.

Maybe God’s in denial. Maybe he or she is just stubborn.

Perfect, Pants, and Cheese Fries in OT

Yesterday I received my new fancy rain pants in the mail. Today, the weather gods cooperated and I got to try them out. They fit me a tad tight which is to say they fit me like bicycle pants. My previous rain pants were of the hiking persuasion. I had my doubts that my new pants would get the job done but they performed flawlessly.

The ride to work was mostly wet and gray. The rain stopped for a few minutes around the ten mile mark then resumed.

I rode into DC to attend Friday Coffee Club. At the traffic light at Maine Avenue I ran into (not literally) Mary, Coffeeneur, Randonista, Errandonnista, and co-founder of Friday Coffee Club. It’s not every day you meet a celebrity, Sadly, I forgot to ask for her autograph, At the Washington Monument she hung a looie and I banged a right. She beat me to Swings House of Caffeine by a couple of minutes. I don’t mind taking a longer route since I got to ride in front of the White House which I regard as a pretty cool way to start the day.

For a crummy weather day, Swings was pretty crowded. Over 20 bike commuters showed up. I knew all but a couple of them, not bad for an introvert.

The ride to work featured a rare Perfect on the narrow TR Bridge. A Perfect means that I did not have to stop to let a DC-bound rider pass.

I planned to work until 2 then sneak out to a bar with my co-worker Allison, who, like myself, attended Boston University. We were going to watch the BU-Yale NCAA hockey playoff game. At 1 my boss and several other co-workers got all hyper and agitated about something and called a meeting for 3 pm. Lovely.

Somehow the meeting was moved up to 2:30. After 30 minutes the agitated folks decied that I would do all the work while they went home. As soon as that meeting was over, Allison was sucked into a vortex of Friday afternoon deadline anxiety.

If we ever get out of here, thought of giving it all away… (Wait, somebody else wrote that.)

Finally, we escaped the maelstrom and made it to a nearby bar. We joined the game with a little over 3 minutes remaining and the score tied 2-2. BU had a nice power play opportunity and squandered it. Then with seconds remaining in regulation, Yale committed another penalty. Then the game went into overtime.

To sustain us through the wait for OT Allison ordered some cheese fries. They were disgusting. Of course, I ate some. I needed help digesting them. So I had a few Shiner Bocks. Fortunately, BU scored a goal and my digestive system was saved from further abuse.

I rode home in my new fancy pants. They were a bit tighter thanks to the cheese fries and the Shiner Bocks.

I am presently tired. I rode over 160 miles in the last five days. Just getting to and from work. If I keep this up, I’ll be in fine shape for the mid-May bike trip from Pittsburgh to DC that I am doing with Ryan and Kevin. Ir will be perfect. I will not need fancy pants. There will be beer. I think I’ll pass on the cheese fries, though.

Cherry Blossoms from the Sky

This week was doing so well. I had two bike commutes to start the week. Then zipless monkey conversation on Wednesday. Thursday was cool but the riding was pleasant. Then came Friday. I had been absent from Friday Coffee Club for too long. Ice on the Mount Vernon Trail and a business trip kept me away.

It was 35 degrees and raining when I left the house. No.

Then the rain turned to ice pellets. No. Just no.

We are supposed to be seeing cherry blossoms right about now.

So the ice pellets turned to snowflakes. I went with it. Lemons and lemonade. Dalai Lama Palmer plays it as it lays.

I stuck my tongue out as I rode. Time for my inner boy to come out. (I dialed it back though. In my grammar school days, I used to ride my bike down the street and jump off to see how far the bike would go before it wobbled to the ground. (Quite a long way if you are wondering.) Misery turned to play.

I arrived at coffee club with cold wet feet. I broke my SEC (Stop eating crap) rule and had a fritter. Comfort food.

Mary, Queen Errandonnista, was giving out patches. I didn’t take one but she held one up and took my picture for the historical record. Lis did take one and, true to my pathetic photography skills, I took a blurry picture.

I rode with Brian down G Street after coffee. My waterproof gloves were full of cold rain water. It was a squishy ride to work.

The ride home was better. This time of year I often bring some extra cycling gear. Yesterday I brought an extra pair of gloves. Good thing to as my morning gloves were still soaking wet.

The ride home was filled with duck quacks. In just a matter of days, the duck (mostly mallards) population has exploded. Duck weather isn’t all that good for cycling.

It is now Saturday morning. 37 degrees outside. The first full day of spring. I’m just sittin’ here doin’ time. I’d rather be riding. And seeing cherry blossoms on the trees.

A Perfect Kind of Spinal Tap Smile

I woke up with a sense of dread. I could just tell it was as cold as Nome outside. I went out to get the newspaper. Yep, Nome. I checked the thermometer. It said this:

11

Gulp. This is a Spinal Tap morning.

I ran upstairs for another layer of clothes. After eating breakfast I stepped out into the cold.

Mostly I was warm in about two miles. Except my fingertips just would not warm up. Dang, they hurt. The sun was rising when I arrived at Dyke Marsh but I didn’t take a picture because I would have had to take my hand out of its glove. Take my word for it, the sunrise was mighty fine.

I continued riding. The cold air took my mind of of everyday concerns. It was just me, my breathing, and the passing scenery. I was in the zone. Just rolling along. This is the only way to go.

I made it to Friday Coffee Club and was surprised to see so many bikes parked outside. I was followed inside by Dr. McMurdo, Science Mom. We had a chat in line waiting for our brews. Frankly, they could have just poured the stuff on my feet. I wouldn’t have cared.

The bike commuter crowd had already packed itself around two tall tables, so I was lucky to commandeer a third. I was joined by Ricky, Ted, Lis (not a typo, she’s peculiar about thiz), Jeff, and Andy (whom I had not previously met). We discussed physical therapy (which most of us seemed to have some experience with) and nerve flossing (easily the sketchiest thing I have heard of in a long time.)

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After coffee, I rode to the office. I reached the TR bridge and rode all the way across its narrow side path without havingf to stop for a single DC-bound cyclist. This is called a “perfect” by Brian. It is only my second TR bridge perfect since I started riding to coffee club three years ago.

I managed not to get nearly kiiled in the Intersection of Doom.

The ride home was notable for only two things. As I rolled past a massive storm drain conduit where run off from Rosslyn’s streets dumps into the river, I noticed the water was an unnatural blue/green/slime color. Right at the edge of this nasty looking liquid was a great blue heron all tucked in onto itself.

A few miles later I passed an oncoming runner. It was a young woman bundled up against the cold. Our eyes met and she gave me an ear to ear smile. It was the perfect exclamation point to a might fine week of biking to work.

The rest of the ride home was pretty much as good as it gets for a Friday in winter. The sun stayed up for most of the ride home. Good of you to cooperate Mr. Sol. (Mr. Sol being one of Neil Young’s awesomest songs, by the way.)

Despite the lingering cold of winter, this week’s bike commutes went to 11. Practically perfect in every way.

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