Tag: “Mount Vernon Trail”

There Must Be Some Mistake

After yesterday’s sweatfest, today was sublime. Clearly, the weather gods did not get the memo.

To: Weather Gods

From: Washington DC

Re: July

We will suffer each and every day through impossible heat and humidity. You will give us awesome weather in spring and fall. K? Thx.

I rode Big Nellie to work in shorts. The cool air was blowing up my legs. Eek!  I passed Ed on the way. Ed was going slow because he’s Ed and Ed does that sometimes.

I am pretty sure Chris M. came by with a GoPro camera on his head. It looked pretty silly but I may just be a video star once he edits my belly out of the picture and fills in my bald spot.

Even the drivers in Rosslyn were nice. Okay, nice-ish. I got into the garage at work unscathed only to be nearly vaporized by a massive pick up going way too fast. Big Nellie moved this way and that with aplomb. Okay, maybe aplomb isn’t the right word maybe azucchini.

My co-worker Kelly returned to bike commuting. The recent threat of evening storms scared her off. Of course, you’d be scared too if you were caught in rising water on your second bike commute. 19735364850_a005ed17db_z

At the end of the work day, she boldly slapped on her helmet for the perilous trip down the elevator to the locker room to change.  She also took a water bottle in case the elevator got stuck for more than a day. We haven’t heard from her since she left.  Also, she has a habit of talking to walls but I’m sure this pre-dated her adventures in bike commuting.

I left about an hour later. I stopped to take a picture of the beautiful blossoms covering the Mount Vernon Trail just across the the Washington Monument. I heard somewhere that this tree is a white ash tree. I h19736818498_f0309d11e2_zave not verified this. In fact, I am about as good at tree identification as I am at facial recognition. I took a picture but I got in the way.  I wore a helmet to keep the blossoms off my fusiform gyrus. I think it worked.

As you can see I was in a good mood. I was congratulating myself about giving some advice to a friend. The advice panned out nicely for her. As a result, I figure I  will probably not see her until autumn 2016 or so. I apparently have a talent for this sort of thing. A few years ago I advised someone to quit her job. She moved 12,000 miles away a few weeks later. If only I could work this magic on tech stocks.

I took a dang-it’s-a-nice-evening lap of Hains Point then headed for home. Big Nellie was really cruising along nicely when I ran into Mike and Lisa aboard their purple DaVinci tandem. It has the cool feature that unlike most tandems the captain (up front) pedals independently of the stoker (in back).

Every once in a while, Mike and Lisa ride down the Mount Vernon Trail to explore my neck of the woods and beyond. They have an impressive cruising radius and appear to like riding up steep hills. We chatted for nearly a half hour on the side of the trail. One would think that I’d think to take their picture. One would be wrong.

We did talk about this year’s 50 States Ride. They host one of the rest stops at their home in Tacoma Park. It is the best rest stop ever. In 2013, I pulled up to the house and Mike stood on his porch and yelled “ROOTCHOPPER” repeatedly. Lisa threatened to call 911 and he stopped. In 2014, he put a banner on his house that said, “All Hail ROOTCHOPPER.”  This year’s ride is on September 12. I can’t recommend it enough. I’ve done it seven times including each of the last five years. Be forewarned, it’s a lot harder than it sounds, but it’s a pretty good bet that you will meet some great people along the way. I will be out of town for this year’s event, but I expect a complete report from my #bikedc peeps.

We made our promise to go to a ball game together. We haven’t pulled this off yet but one of these days the stars will align and we’ll get it done.

We went our separate ways. I took the long way home.

The weather gods were pleased.

More Better than February

I’ve been a sloven blogger lately. Mostly I’ve been out of town and off the bike. Friday was a day of unusual events. In preparing to go to Dulles to drop my daughter off, Mrs. RC blew out her right calf muscle while attempting to kill a millipede on the top of a door jamb. White wives can’t jump. Actuallu, it is the first time she has jumped since she was run over by the driver of an SUV. As she sprung up, my daughter heard a pop. It was her calf muscle tearing. Her days of playing small forward are over, we fear.

So the three of us drove to Dulles to see our 20-year old daughter leave for her semester abroad in Sydney. Our daughter moves through airports like water in a stream. She has now been to nine foreign countries, four this summer alone. (She’s been to France and England twice, so she should get extra credit.) When I was 20, I hadn’t been to 9 states!

My wife and I then drove to southern West Virginia, not far from where a fracking oil train derailed a few weeks ago. Large gatherings of people are an introvert’s idea of hell on earth. Suffice it to say, that I had burn marks before the entire thing was over. I caught up on some reading and wrote long emails to friends when I could get cell service.

We arrived back at home Sunday night at 10. I think I managed to get 6 hours of fitful sleepbefore getting up for a visit from a plumber.

After working from home all day, I was preparing to mow the lawn in the blazing heat when Kirstin sent me a message asking if I wanted to go to the Nats game. Yeah, baby!!!

I rode The Mule the 16 miles to Nationals Park in DC. I stopped to buy ice cold water and peanuts, then parked my bike with the bike valet. While waiting for Kirstin, Katie Lee rolled in. I was going to sing “Happy Birthday +1 to You” but the extra day just messes the whole song up. She looks seven years younger than when we got together in March.

Kirstin arrived. After some introductions, Katie left to join her friends inside. Kirstin and I  bought some more water from a street vendor (two of our bottles were intentionally frozen solid.) and went in to our seats. Lower level 26 rows from the field. Way to go Ultrarunnergirl!

The game was a great one with a half-dozen superb fielding plays by the hometown team. Kirstin spent an inning hanging out with her friend Kate. I saw a tweet from Rudy who was sitting in the stands above us. After seven innings, I actually spotted him. It helped that he was waving like starving man on a desert island.

It was hot and muggy. Between the two of us Kirstin and I downed five liters of water and two beers by the sixth inning. As I returned from the bathroom I bought us two more beers only to find that she had bought herself one while I was away. We were thirsty.

Well, the Nats won 7-2 and we all met up at the Bike Valet. We rolled down First Street in the mugginessand darkness. Kirstin and I split off after four blocks and rode together almost to the Washington Monunment. She headed north for a long slog up to Cathedral Heights. I headed to the Mount Vernon trail.

I love riding late at night. The heat and humidity brought out a symphony of bugs and frogs. Peeps and chuckling sounds and rattles and screeches. Since my ears were filled it was somehow only fair that the trail was crisscrossed in places by spider webs. Ack!

Beneath the Wilson Bridge a homeless man as usual was sitting on the bike path in the dark. He was waving a small amber light so I wouldn’t run him over. A little further south I startled a fawn who silently ran away to my right across the Parkway. I listened for the squeal of a braking car but there was none. .

I pulled into home at midnight.

This morning, on 5 1/2 hours of sleep, I rode to work in the most oppressive muggy weather I have experienced in many a year. My legs were covered in sweat after a mile. The humidity never abated. It was just gross. I was pretty happy to get to the office but the garage in our building was a blast furnace.

After a day or reading a paper chock a block full of equations and differential calculus, I eagerly jumped on my bike and headed home. It was less gross than the morning, but it was still gross.

When I got home I decided to mow the lawn. Not the best idea I’ve ever had.

This is summer in Washington. It’s more better than February.

Making Withdrawals from the Karma Bank

It’s easy to go through life seeing the cloud in every silver lining. I am not an altogther pessimistic person but it never ceases to amaze me when random good things happen to me. Frankly, after last fall and winter, I think I may have been overdue for some good Karma. This week I am on a good Karma roll.

Monday I used Little Nellie, my folding travel bike, to take Mrs. Rootchopper’s car to the dealer for an inspection. As it turned out, the dealer did a warranty repair on the airbags while the car was there, saving me a future trip.

On the way to pick up the car, it rained while the sun was out. Sometimes rain is cold and makes you miserable, but this rain was warm and felt wonderful on a hot day. The sunlight shining on the rain drops made it look like I was riding through tinsel.

Yesterday, during a meeting at work, Ryan messaged me with an invite to go to the evening Nats game. (Ryan was given two tickets as a thank you for donating blood at Nats Park back in May. Good on you, Ryan.) I rode Big Nellie, my long wheelbase recumbent, to the park from my office in Rosslyn. I was thinking about riding down to Hains Point to kill some time and keep me from arriving early. On Ohio Drive near the Jefferson Memorial, I hit a small pothole. All of a sudden my rear shifter stopped working. I got off the bike and saw that my shifter cable had broken at the derailer. Sad face.

I tried to fix it, but the end of the cable was all frayed and nasty. I decided to skip Hains Point. I considered riding to one of the bike shops on Capitol Hill, but rejected the idea, afraid it would take too much time and make both me and Ryan late for the game. So I rode directly to the ballpark. I had three gears so I was confident that I could get home. It wouldn’t be much fun though.

At the ballpark I tweeted that my cable had broken. Lo and behold the folks at CityBikes on Capitol Hill saw my tweet and offered to bring me a cable and install it after the game. Are you kidding me? How nice is that? I told them that the cable was a tandem cable (Big Nellie is long) and they went searching for one. And found it. Are you kidding me? Nice.

Having arrived early, I talk a bit to Delonte and Raymond, the super friendly bike valet guys, then hung out on the sidewalk near the entrance to the valet to look for Ryan. Who should come swooping in but Katie Lee on Arrow, her Surly CrossCheck. I know she goes to a lot of Nats games but I figured she’d skip this one having probably gone to the previous night’s game pitched by Jordan Zimmermann, her fave. We had a chance to say hello and I met her friend Eric.

Ryan showed up soon after and we went into the park. His seats were in centerfield directly under the giant scoreboard TV. Looking up at the replays was surreal. Baseball players are 20 feet high!

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There were not many replays worth watching. The Nats were 2-hit by Reds’ ace Johnny Cueto, who did his best imitation of El Tiante in his prime. The Nats looked like the ’62 Mets.

During the game Katie Bolton tweeted that she was in the stands directly below Katie Lee. I could spot the L but not the B. #bikedc Katies are remarkably numerous.

After the game, Saul Leiken from CityBikes met me at the bike valet and installed the cable. Now I had all the gears necessary to ride home in the dark. Thanks Saul.

The ride home was a bit sketchy since my red blinky light had two dead batteries in it. I was paranoid riding among the cars. I got to the Mount Vernon Trail and only had to worry about being rear ended by a ninja bike rider on speed. Fortunately, Tony, who happened also to be at the game, showed up and escorted me to the far end of National Airport. What a great bonus to have a chat with him.

The rest of the ride was smooth sailing. Just me, the night breeze, and a million fireflies.

I feel my Karma bank might be empty.

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night

Well, I don’t know about dark but yesterday’s evening rush hour was Lena Horne stormy. Hail. Thunder. Lightning. Wind. Torrents of rain.

Just the thing for breaking in (or, perhaps breaking) a new bike commuter. So my co-worker Kelly set out  to beat the storm. She has a 40 minute commute and was determined to beat this storm as she had beat the previous two evening storms.

Her luck ran out.

She found herself seeking shelter under I-395 just north of Shirlington. Good idea. Yay, Kelly.

Alas, here is Kellyfloodwhere Four Mile Run is pinched by the underpass and the Four Mile Run trail. The creek had become a rage of white water. The waters began to rise over the artificial banks. Kelly found herself standing in eight inches of water.

Eek.

At least she took her predicament well. ‘

After a few minutes of terror, she rode home.  the storm had passed. The waters receded.

Home. Warm and dry.

After recovering her sanity and walking her faithful canine Paddington, she went back out and rode to the bike commuters’ Third Thursday Happy Hour in Shirlington.

Our end of a very long set of tables filled with bike commuters included Ed and Erin. I have been reading Erin;s blog for a while and looked forward to meeting her. It turns out she’s yet another member of the Rootchopper Prosopamnesia Club. We met on the Mount Vernon Trail last summer. I only began to connect her to the meeting after hearing her speak.

After happiness was achieved, Kelly went right and Ed, Erin, and I went left. I led the three of us over the hills in Alexandria. In Del Ray Erin veered off for home. Ed and I took my supersecret route through Old Town. South of the beltway, we took Fort Hunt Road and Sherwood Hall Lane instead of the MVT, because nothing makes beer in your belly feel quite as awful as some bicycle hill climbing.

I woke up extra early (my beer and black bean burger wanted nothing to do with a full night’s sleep) and rode to Friday Coffee Club with surprising spring in my legs.

Now if only I can get home without killing my legs so I can go on that hike tomorrow with Ultrarunnergirl. White Oak Canyon, here we come!.

Three Stage Bike Commuting

I have been a sloven blogger. Monday’s ride to work featured a five minute conversation with Ellen, a bike rider whom I have never seen before. She was admiring my Bike Friday. I will likely never see her again. Such is the impermanence of the social life of the moving cyclist.

Tuesday was a great day to ride to work. So I worked from home. Instead of doing a short bike ride in the evening I mowed my lawn. This frees up Saturday so I can go for a hike in Shenandoah National Park with Ultrarunnergirl. Woot!

Can. Not. Wait.

Yesterday’s bike commute came in three stages. It was like the Tour de France only not so much. The ride to work was uneventful. I was hoping a random passing cyclists would admire my legs and chat me up, but, as is always the case, this didn’t happen.

Stage two was an evening ride from the office to Smith Public Trust in the Brookland neighborhood of DC. This ride took me across town at rush hour. I managed to improvised a route that made it a breeze. I took the Mount Vernon Trail to the 14th Street Bridge. (Along the way I passed the snow goose which I am now convinced is a swan.) From there I rode into Southwest DC. Up 7th Street all the was to K Street NW. Then K to the Metropolitan Branch Trail which dropped me off about a mile from the pub. There was a happy hour to wish Shane Farthing a fare thee well as he moves on from his position as the Managing Director of the Washington Area Bicyclists Association.

There were many #bikedc people. I met many #bikedc people. There were nachos. There was beer. I stayed way too long.

I headed for home at around 9:30. Thankfully, Dave Salovesh  escorted me down the MBT. I was riding Little Nellie which has little wheels. Little wheels are fun to ride because they are twitchy.Twitchy is not a good thing when you’ve been drinking. (Biking is not a good thing when you’ve been drinking. The Brookland transporter pod was broken leaving me little choice.) I was also using clipless pedals for the third time since March.

I nearly killed myself trying to negotiate a sharp left turn on the trail. I tried to unclip to put my foot down but the shoe wouldn’t disengage. I rode off the trail, luckily into some grass. No fatality, no foul.

Dave took me to the new 1st Street NW cycletrack. It is fantastic. There is a concrete berm, a physical separation between the main lane and the cycletrack. Wonderful.

Dave headed to Salovesh Estates on Capitol Hill. I headed west on the mall then took my usual route home on the Mount Vernon Trail.

It was raining lightly. My head was clearing from the beer. Now I was just dead tired. Only 14 miles to go.

Pedal. Pedal.

Watch out for that fox!

Watch out for that rabbit!

Watch out for that deer!

And here I was worried about cars in the city. The damned wildlife nearly got me.

I made it home around midnight.

After six hours of sleep, I rode to work today.

I am on my way home.

By way of the Third Thursday Happy Hour in Shirlington.

I Don’t Think She’s a Muggle

This morning’s ride to work featured a rarity. A Linel sighting!  Normally she rides to work about a half hour after me. She has been known to wear an invisibility cloak, too. But this morning I spotted her about 200 yards in front of me. I could tell it was her by her Nutcase helmet and super posh Surly Long Haul Trucker.

I didn’t put the hammer down to catch her though. This was one of those mornings when I needed some alone time. (I’d be in much better biking shape if I were an extrovert.) To givDSCN3987_1116e credit where credit is due, Linel was going so fast the trees were blurry. Must have been using floo powder.

Linel took a left onto South Royal Street. I continued straight to stay on the Mount Vernon Trail. As I passed under the bridge I saw some folks working on their fencing skills.

Near the 14th Street bridge, the tree that had fallen during last night’s storm was still lying across the trail. To the left was a whole mess of standing water. To the right was only the slightest of openings. I went right. It looked blocked but I rode right through. Sweet.

Somewhere near this point Chris M. rode past me heading south. He even took my picture. Portrait of Obliviousman.

The ride home was a breeze. I was lost in thought about a son flying to Thailand, the disappointment of impermanent friendship, and a weekend begging to be filled with movement. Sometimes I wonder how I stay upright.

The fallen tree had been cut up, removing the morning’s obstruction. Props to the Park Service for its quick removal. (Why they can’t do the same with snow is beyond me.)

Once clear of the airport, I was back in a trance.

I am working from home tomorow. The gas company is replacing the gas line to my home. I want to be here if they blow something up.  If they do, somebody else will have to continue this blog. I’ll be in orbit.

Recovery Ride – The Pretzelneur

I woke up all sore from yesterday’s shenanagans so I decided to take advantage of the fine weather and my perpetually empty social calendar.

So I made my way to the Mount Vernon Trail and let gravity and a tailwind push me to Alexandria. The trail was pretty busy so any thought of riding it north to DC was pretty much out of the question. This left option B which is to ride over the Wilson Bridge. This route to DC is pretty interesting. First, you have the bridge’s view of DC. Then you ride down a spiral toward National Harbor. Then you ride a long way up Oxon Hill followed by riding a long way back down to Oxon Cove. The route goes up again to MLK Jr. Boulevard which rolls through Anacostia.

At Good Hope Road, I picked up the Anacostia River Tral and watched the crew shells glide by as I headed north.

I stopped to see where the Pretzel House is in DC. I thought Google said 15th and D NE so I headed that way. I knew things didn’t look right as I rolled around the one way streets. No pretzels. Hmmm. I re-checked my phone and it said SE!

So I rode the mile or so to the correct location and had myself some fine pretzels and an iced tea.

After my munch, I headed to Eastern Market to people watch. There were people. I watched them. Nobody I knew.

So I rolled down Constitution Avenue and went to the Enid Haupt Garden at the Smithsonian. I used to work up the street from this place. It is expertly maintained. I took a bench and just chilled for 20 minutes. It’s just the perfect place to sit and reflect.

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With a  refreshed mind, I headed to Hains Point for a 3-mile lap. I think the last time I rode there was cherry blosson season. It was nice not to have to compete for road space with buses.

I rode across the 14th Street Bridge and made my way toward the Pentagon. I followed streets through Crystal City and Potomac Yards. A new bike trail has been built in Potomac Yards. I followed it to the Braddock Road Metro station. It’s a nice addition to Alexandria’s bicycle infrastructure.

I rode West Street through the edge of Old Town. A car from Arkansas and I played leap frog. The driver was unfamiliar with the 3-feet rule and kept passing me within a foot of my left hand. If I were left handed I would have keyed him.

I finished my recovery ride by grinding up three hills, two on Fort Hunt Road and a third on Sherwood Hall Lane. I arrived home with 44 miles on my odometer.

So much for recovering. I think my ride to work tomorrow will be my recovery from my recovery ride.

Broken Shell, Broken Heart

Every May I look forward to seeing snapping turtles laying their eggs on the edge of the Mount Vernon Trail. Snappers are big. Their shells are about the size of a dinner plate. If you get you fingers near their mouths, you won’t have them for long.

Last week I saw a baby snapping turtle. It looked just like an adult but its shell was only about as big as a 50 cent piece.

Today, I saw an adult snapper next to the trail. It didn’t register in my mind until I had ridden past it. I stopped and walked back only to see something horrible. The turtle was alive but in obvious distress, it’s shell cracked just behind its head. I have no idea how this happened but my guess is that it was run over by a car.

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I was relieved to see that it was gone when I rode past this evening.

About an hour later, my daughter and I were driving to dinner in Old Town. About a half mile from where I saw this turtle, I saw another one at the edge of the George Washington Memorial Parkway. It had been run over and looked like it was dead.

I really wanted to see some snapper turtles this spring. Now I am not so sure.

No Wrong Plan: Day 6 – Brunswick to Home on the C&O Canal Towpath, the Capital Crescent Trail, and the Mount Vernon Trail

Ryan was keen on staying at the Brunswick campsite because he wanted to have breakfast at Beans in the Belfry, a coffee shop in Brunswick that is very popular with the #bikeDC crowd. We broke camp after another cold night and a squirt of chamois cream we headed back into town. It was 8 a.m. Beans in the Belfry doesn’t open until 9 on weekdays. Fail.

We found another place and had coffee, croissants,and chocolate cookies. The croissant and coffee were okay but the cookies were top notch. This being Friday, we were establishing the westernmost outpost of #bikedc’s Friday Coffee Club.

It was also Bike to Work Day. The weather could not have been better. Throughout the day we checked social media to see huge crowds participating in the eveDSCN3965_1086nts of the morning. This was in sharp contrast to the poor turnout last year which coincided with a monsoon.

As we pedalled toward DC we finally started seeing some deer. We only saw a couple on the GAP Trail but they were rather burly. Deer closer to DC are smaller but fast. We were very careful once we saw one deer because deer often run in clusters. Getting run over by a stupid deer would be a lousy end to a bike tour.

After about 20 miles we stopped at Whites Ferry for some grub. All they had were snacks so we made do and got back to riding. After about an hour we met up with Ryan Heinz, a #bikedc and Friday Coffee Club friend, who was taking the work out of Bike to Work Day. We chatted for a long time. Ryan was headed for, you guessed it, Beans in the Belfry. Hope he had a good cup.

We were within 20 miles of DC and the scenery continued to be spectacular. At one point we spotted a great blue heron standing on the edge of the towpath. He was immense. As we approached he launched. Magnificent! From this point on the canal is filled with water. We saw dozens of goslings with their protective elders at their side. A duck swam across the canal with what looked like a day care center full of ducklings in pursuit. Turtles basked in the sun. It’s a critter’s life on the C&O Canal.

At Swain’s Lock we spotted Rudy Riet, another #bikedc and Friday Coffee Club friend. He had ridden out to escort us into town. The pace accelerated. Adrenaline kicked in. We cut over to the Capital Crescent Trail at Thompson’s Boat House and soon were met by Mary, The Coffeeneur! Another escort. We rolled the rest of the way on the paved CCT. At Georgetown Waterfront Park we stopped for pictures.

We made it!DSCN3979_1097

If we wanted to be anal about the whole thing we should have kept riding to the 0 milepost. Having screwed up the start in Pittsbrugh and having seen that the 0 milepost is nothing special we headed instead through Georgeton and the west end of DC to Glen’s, a market near Dupont Circle. Along the way Chris B. picked up our scent and joined the parade. Rudy led the way as we rode the streets of the city. At one intersection a driver did a right hook. Rudy was on to him and avoided being road kill. Welcome home.

Glen’s has outdoor seating, coffee, food, and cold draft beer. The perfect place for a celebration. Soon we were joined by a bunch of #bikeDC and Friday Coffee Club folks including Ed, Peter, Jacques, Brian and others.

After a couple of hours of socializing I headed home. Ed gave me an escort nearly all the way. We rode down the 15th Street cycletrack. It was incredibly crowded, mostly with people riding northbound. This was clear evidence that Bike to Work Day had been a smash.

Now that I was riding in more familiar roads and trails, The Mule felt like a bus. It was a damned good thing I had changed the brake pads on the beast or some tourists and bike commuters would have been vaporized.

I pushed the pace as hard as I could but my legs were nearly dead. South of Alexandria I stopped to show Ed some bald eagle nests. They are now almost completely obscured by tree leaves. Ken Schantz, a bike commuter stopped by to chat. He’s a bike commuter who’s daily ride is something like 70 miles roudn trip. (He uses buses to make the trip manageable.)

After Ken took off, Ed and I rolled to my neighborghood. Ed went west and I went into my backyard to dismount for the final time of the tour.

I was pooped. My final day was 73 1/2 miles.

Total mileage for the ride was about 364 miles.

I’ll take it.

Some pix of the trek are over on my Flickr page.

Goslings!!!!

  • I write often about the bald eagles and great blue herons I see along the Mount Vernon Trail on the way to work. They are pretty cool but I get even more of a kick when the babies start showing up. Today was my first sighting of goslings. There were four of them and they were just little green balls of down. This was the best I could do with my camera without getting Mom and Dad really upset.DSCN3716_850

After a few moments, they went for a swim.

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I should be seeing ducklings any day now. Then, with luck, I may see a snapping turtle laying eggs along the trail. They like to use the edge of the trail for leverage as they did a hole for the eggs with their hind feet.

I’m sure there are bike commutes somewhere that are better than mine, but I wouldn’t trade mine for any of them.