Grounded

My to-do list for the winter is quite long, and none of it involves bicycles. Last week I knocked off some plumbing issues in my house. As is usually the case I used my best plumbing tool, my credit card. Suffice it to say that I am just about as competent around the house as I am working on my bike.

I also went to the dermatologist to get a thingie on my right middle finger looked at. The thingie turned out to be a cyst. The dermatologist referred me to a surgeon to have it removed. It’s annoying and painful and keeps me from riding up hills like Claudia Chiappucci. (Okay, I made the climbing thing up.) I go to the surgeon this Friday so I will miss Friday Coffee Club. Yes, I know, my priorities are all screwed up.

Some time ago, Mrs. Rootchopper found an unusual looking spot on my back. I asked the dermatologist to do a skin screening. The spot on my back was nothing to be concerned about. The rest of me was a whole other story.

Being that I am mostly of Irish lineage, my skin burns pretty much during all daylight hours. It’s a bit like being a reverse vampire. The doctor found beaucoup spots with skin damage that had to be frozen off. She also had me apply a caustic gel like substance to the perimeter of my face. After three days of application, my face looks rather ironically like I have a bad sunburn.

On a whim, I told the doctor about an annoying bump above and behind my left ear. To my shock, she biopsied it. I should find out tomorrow if it is anything to worry about. “I’m afraid your head will have to be removed.”

All of which is to say, that today I moved to the next item on the list, electrical issues with my house. I had three items to fix: the front porch light, a light switch in the basement and an electrical outlet in the basement. Of course, I hired an electrician.

The light switch was a five minute fix. The front porch light took 15 minutes. The socket took two hours. It was wired backwards creating something called reverse polarity. Basically if you touched it with a metal object you’re likely to get zapped. The electrician checked all the other outlets and light switches in the basement and nearly all of them to be wired improperly. I am not surprised since it was DIY electrical work by the previous owner.

While using his tester to check an outlet upstairs, I bent over and I got a zap of a different sort. My back caught. This has been happening to me since I was in college so I wasn’t entirely surprised. Maybe my back has reverse polarity. It’s frustrating but in ten days or so I will be good to go.

My primary method of treatment is to ride Big Nellie gently. I really don’t know why it works but it shortens the recovery time by a couple of days. So I probably won’t be bike commuting for a while. As they say in professional sports, my bike commuting status is day to day. All of which is to say, I am grounded.

Caged Beast

Snow is coming. And cold weather in its wake. The National Park Service refuses to treat the Mount Vernon Trail of snow and ice so I can assume that I won’t be bike commuting for the rest of this week.

What’s a bike rider to do? I bring Big Nellie into the basement and set her up on a wind trainer. I have a big box fan and an old television with a DVD player. I can hole up down there for a long time. It’s boring as sin but at least it’s warm and dry and I can’t fall.

This is the first time I’ve brought a bike indoors in two years. Sad face. Hurry spring.

The 8th Day of Furloughmas: Coffeeneuring in Alexandria

Today marked the 8th day of the federal government shut down. As much as not working is starting to get to me, seeing my 401K take a major hit from all this budget gridlock is really starting to piss me off. Time for a cold Yuengling.

This morning began with a quick trip to the drug store for asthma meds. I took The Mule. I like the little strip mall in Hollin Hall but I do wish they’d add some decent bike parking. Yet another reason why cycling in Fairfax County is a pain.

After watching the HVAC folks put a new humidifier on my furnace, I took Big Nellie out for a Coffeeneuring run to Buzz at the north end of Old Town Alexandria. The riding was slow as my leg muscles are still a little sore from this weekend’s riding. I had a medium house blend and a cinnamon muffin. The coffee was nothing to write home about but it carried a caffeine wallop. The cinnamon bun looked far better than it tasted. It was surprisingly chewy and flavorless.

In anticipation of picking up the Millennium Falcon (our Mitsubishi Lancer) from the body shop, I headed home. The tailwind was nice. The flat rear tire wasn’t. I put a Panaracer Pasella tire on a month or so ago. It is supposed to have a Kevlar belt in it. They must have skipped that step because a small piece of glass cut right through the tire. Re-installing a tire on the Tour Easy is something of a struggle. As I was getting the chain onto the cassette, the bike flopped over breaking the mirror in the process. Then I learned that the neoprene grommet that holds the head of my pump onto the tire valve stem was not gripping the valve properly. And the rear brake was rubbing. If I had a gun, I’d have shot the damn thing right then and there!

Lacking firearms, I rode to Wheel Nuts bike shop about a half mile away and used their floor pump and bought a new mirror. I rode to City Hall and decided to prop the bike up on the low wall of a planter and work on my rubbing brake. After 15 minutes I got the tire rotating freely, but now the brakes squeal.

The tailwind helped make the ride home quite pleasant. When I got there I learned that the car would not be ready until tomorrow. Something tells me this is just not my day. To reward myself for the little frustrations of the day, I did some online shopping, including ordering replacement parts for my pump.

Shopping is almost as therapeutic as drinking a cold beer or going for a bike ride. I’ve already done the latter so I do believe I’ll do the former now.

Ahhhh. Hits the spot.

Coffeeneuring No. 3: Buzz in Alexandria

Drink: House roast. Not the best but it gave me a buzz

Eats: Cinnamon bun. Meh

Miles:17.5 (not counting the 2.5 ride to the drug store)

Observations: You can have a tire that gives a nice ride or a tire that won’t easily puncture but you can’t have both. Skar was right. Life’s not fair.

Coffeeneuring Number 2: Metric Coffee Ride

Something odd is happening. For the last two months, despite riding Big Nellie, my Tour Easy recumbent, almost every day, I haven’t been able to get the bike moving satisfactorily. Every ride has been a frustrating struggle. Yesterday that changed. Riding my recumbent was effortless. After 51 miles I wanted to ride a lot more.

So, today I did. And the riding was even better. With temps in the high 80s, you cannot complain about the weather. It took me a while to get started though. I spent the first half hour of my ride doing maintenance on The Mule, my 20-year-old Specialized Sequoia. I put a 700×35 tire on the front to match the width of my new back tire. Then I took it for a quick test ride. The Mule likes wider tires. No doubt about it. My test ride did surface a problem: really squeaky rear brakes. So I fiddled with them for a few minutes.

Once General Bike Hospital was over with, Big Nellie and I hit the road. We cruised through some neighborhood streets before hooking up with the Mount Vernon Trail near the stone bridge. I had a noticeable tailwind so I knew that the easy of riding was not all my doing.

In about an hour, I pulled into Saint Elmo’s Coffee Pub in Del Ray for my second Coffeeneuring stop. The coffee was much better than yesterday’s and the blueberry and banana muffin was moist and tasty. I brought a book with me so I could linger over my brew.

I was still hungry so I dropped into the Dairy Godmother, an ice cream store two doors down from St. Elmo’s. I had one of their root beer floats. Ahhhh. Perfection!

Root beer floats should be allowed in the Coffeeneuring Challenge. Root beer is brewed, right?

Now that my diet had been shot to hell, I hit the road in earnest. In about two miles I was heading west on the Four Mile Run trail heading for the W&OD trail. I took that to the Custis trail and headed back toward DC along I 66. Just I was getting my kicks, I turned off the trail and worked my way through hilly North Arlington. My destination was Glebe Road which drops like a ski slope down to the Potomac River. Big Nellie loves street luge. Weeee!!!!

Once down the hill I headed northwest on the C&O Canal towpath. Big Nellie’s long wheel base does a wonderful job of absorbing the bumps which are pretty much continuous. I was bombing along at 15 miles per hour passing mountain bikers who must have been wondering how such a strange bike could handle the rough trail.

At Great Falls Park I turned off the trail and rode up a long, long hill. Unlike my experience at the Backroads Century the hills didn’t much bother me. At the top of the hill I mashed on the pedals. I could hear the rear tire digging into the pavement. Down the other side we went. I love doing downhills on my bent. It would have been epic had a car with a kayak on its roof not pulled out in front of me from a parking lot at the bottom of the luge run.

The ride back along MacArthur Boulevard was into the wind, but I didn’t much notice. I was cruising along at 15 miles per hour – about three miles per hour above my commuting speed – with very little effort. I turned off MacArthur and rode Reservoir Road and some alphabet streets across Georgetown. The streets were rather quiet so I rode down 17th Street straight to the Tidal Basin. I caught a bunch of lights and zipped across the Kutz Bridge, normally a nail biter of ride.

I was across the 14th Street bridge in no time and headed into the wind on the MVT going 17 miles per hour. The sun was setting and it seemed to be doing so rather quickly. I was wearing sunglasses so I knew I’d have to stop soon to switch to my regular glasses. I was having such a blast riding that I didn’t stop until Old Town Alexandria 3 1/2 miles later. There I put my light on my helmet and activated my red blinky lights.

The helmet light did a fine job of illuminating all the bike riders without lights heading my way on the dark section of the MVT south of Old Town. The light also helped give me some early warning about the clouds of gnats hanging intermittently over the trail.

I arrived home in the dark after 64 miles. Unlike yesterday, I actually felt somewhat tired. I definitely could have ridden more though.

I really think it’s unfair for my cycling fitness to peak just as the cold weather comes around. If the furlough continues, maybe I should just ride to Cuba. I’ll bet Raul could use a cycling economist. He might even find me essential.

Let’s Ride Two: Dead Man Biking

Backroads 2013

After Saturday’s grueling (but fun) 50 States Ride, I woke up at 5 a. m., just rarin’ to go. Not. My legs felt like lead but I managed to get myself downstairs and planted my face in a bowl of Cheerios. Feeling my oats, I plunked Big Nellie, my Tour Easy recumbent, on the bike rack on the back of my car and headed off to DC.

The plan was to do the Backroads Metric Century in the northern Shenandoah Valley with Kristen. I volunteered to pick up Kristen’s friend Elizabeth (@ymax) in DC on my way to Berryville. I arrived at her place at 6 on the dot.

The drive took about 90 minutes, including a good 10 minutes waiting in the long line to park. We were somewhat concerned that it would be hard to find Kristen who had already transported Elizabeth’s bike. Just before pulling into our parking space we spotted Kristen and her husband standing a few feet away. We took this to be a good omen.

We lingered for just a moment at the start. A recumbent trike rider offered to sell me a lightly used fairing for Big Nellie. I just might take him up on the offer.

And we’re off, me on a recumbent, Kristen on her hybrid, and Elizabeth on her carbon fiber road bike. In addition to having a rocket ship for a bike, Elizabeth is the perfect body type for hilly cycling: thin, fit, and small. Once she warmed up, she was gone!

Kristin, as it turns out, is a mom on a mission and a hill climbing machine. Her technique is to ride down hills in a tuck and then power up the next rise. I spun my ass off on Big Nellie but there was no power at all in my legs. This was going to be a long day.

We rode more or less together for the first leg of our journey, through farmers’ fields with views of the fog rising from the crops with the Blue Ridge to the east. The first rest stop was at an old mill. It was a food fest. The highlight was the baked potatoes with salt and butter. There was also a trio of musicians including banjo and harp for our musical enjoyment. As much as we wanted to stay, we had play to do.

On the road to the next stop, I found myself lagging behind my posse. Along comes Jeff who I saw at the start of the 50 States. Jeff has a talent for sneaking up on me. He once spotted me in a crowd in the rain on Bike DC. Jeff crashed on the 50 States Ride and hurt his right arm which he said was quite painful. Even one armed, Jeff can bury me on a bike. He was gone in short order.

Up, up, up. Pedal, pedal, pedal. Into a headwind.

The next rest stop came at the top of a hill at around 11 a.m.. We had expected to see Kristen’s husband and kids, but he was out boozing again. Just kidding. There was a little interspousal miscommunication.

After a few minutes we were spinning back down the way we came with the wind at our backs. Fields of hay and corn and soy, cows and sheep and alpacas and horses, stone walls and white fences. Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River.

The course is entirely on backroads. Duh. We crossed a couple of busy highways but never rode along them. I learned after the ride that there is about 10 percent more climbing on this ride than on the 50 States. It felt like it.

Many miles and hills later we came to our next stop at the town of White Post, so cleverly named after the white post at the center of town where two roads meet. (It would suck if they replaced the post with a big trash can.) While munching some tomato and mayo sammiches, Kristen spotted an amazing sight. About a month ago on the 2013 Hoppy 100 ride, our band of merry beer hounds helped a guy get medical help after he crashed his bike in the rain on a bridge in DC. He was a bloody mess and was clearly going into shock. So it was pleasant surprise to see him in one piece out on his first bike ride since the crash. Except from a couple of gnarly looking fingernails, he looked quite well. While talking to him, Mike, a regular at Friday Coffee Club appeared. Mike was doing the full century so he was soon off on a mileage quest of his own.

After chatting we headed out under threatening skies. Thankfully, the rain stayed away but we rode the next ten miles under cloudy skies. More hills made my legs achy, but spin we must. I could feel my quadriceps spasming from time to time. How it would suck if they seized up, but, at the last rest stop after eating some mango gelato, it was Kristen who started having leg cramps. Fortunately they went away with some stretching.

As we were leaving somebody said that there was a 16 percent incline in the last few miles. I couldn’t recall one and I was right. The last big hill was 6 percent and plenty long but nothing we couldn’t handle. A few times on this ride we rode passed roadies in Lycra doing the walk of shame, waddling up the steep hills in their cleated bike shoes. The three of us are proud to report that we rode every single blessed uphill without dismounting.

At the finish there was food and hugs all around. Despite the dead legs, I had a great time.

50 States Postscript: When I got home, I changed the flat on The Mule. The tire must have had 20 small cuts in the casing. Time for a fresh tire. I could use some fresh legs too.

Thanks to Kristen for getting me to sign up. It was great to ride with Elizabeth too. You may see her around these parts on a bike. She’ll be that little black dot receding into the distance in front of you.

Here are a few pix of our Backroads adventure.

July by the Numbers

July is one of the peak bike riding months of the year and Big Nellie and I took good advantage of it. For the month I rode 858.5 miles, all but 39 of it on Big Nellie, my Tour Easy recumbent. The other 39 miles were on The Mule, my Specialized Sequoia. Little Nellie, my Bike Friday New World Tourist, took the month off.

I commuted to work 20 times, 19 on Big Nellie. My total commuting mileage was 565 miles. That’s about 22 gallons of gas or $55+ in my pocket. The rest of the miles were fun rides on the weekend, a total of 260.5 miles. The longest ride was my 109.5 mile ride on Big Nellie to Haute Dogs and Fries in Purcellville.

For the year, I’ve ridden 4,184.5 miles and 100 commutes.

Of course, all this riding takes its toll on my bikes. As I write this, Big Nellie is in dry dock at Bikes at Vienna. She’s getting a new cassette, new chain, new rear tire, new fork, and new cables. I hope to have her back in a week or so to get ready for the fall riding season.

Break These Chains, Felkerino

There used to be a tech education company that advertised it’s certification programs for people chained to dead end jobs with the phrase “Break those chains!” Apparently Big Nellie is feeling frustrated with her role in this whole bike to work thing. About six miles into the ride to work I came to a stop sign at South Franklin and Union Streets in Old Town Alexandria. I stopped a little late as a car came through the intersection from left. I didn’t downshift. When I started up, I pressed hard on the pedal and BANG the chain snapped.

This chain is rather long, about 2 1/2 chains long. It has a long and sordid history. It’s first escapade was attacking my friend Flor’s pants at her farewell party in Meridian Hill Park. About a week later it snapped on the hill to Rosslyn about 1/2 mile from work. It held together for a while then this year it decided to rebel. Three times in the last two months the chain has broken. The first two times the outside plate on a link just flaked off, like it was made out of sugar. Then today, the link just spontaneously came apart.

So there I was with my nonfunctioning bike and a chain tool on the wet sidewalk of Old Town cussing under the window of a million dollar townhouse in Ford’s Landing. After about 15 minutes of frustration , I called Mrs. Rootchopper for a ride home. While waiting I, of course, reassembled the chain except I twisted it and now my bike had a Mobius strip for a drivetrain. I thought about re-breaking the chain but it occurred to me that the bike gods were sending me a message: GET A F%@KING NEW CHAIN, DUDE! This is exactly what Felkerino, known around these parts as The Sage of Swings, advised me to do at the last Friday Coffee Club (without the profanity, of course). And, so, it shall be. Big Nellie is going in for a bunch of maintenance on Saturday courtesy of the folks at Bikes at Vienna.

I spent the morning working at home. It poured buckets for about 1 1/2 hours. When the clouds cleared, I headed out on The Mule. With a light tailwind, I made rapid progress, a bad day turned good.

The ride home was better. After struggling to get some sort of rhythm on this bike over many months, I finally got it. The ride home was effortless. Just what I needed. And, somehow, the breathing problems that have been plaguing me for months have disappeared.

One thing that’s bothering me is that the steering on The Mule feels off somehow, like I’m pushing the handlebars to make the bike turn. I suspect that something is wrong with the steerer tube, perhaps damaged in an accident a couple of years ago. Maybe, after 20+ years, it’s time for a new touring bike.

Just Another Boy on the MVT

After yesterday’s bout of miserable chest congestion, I popped an evening Benedryl and my symptoms disappeared in about one hour. I woke up in pretty decent shape and headed out on Big Nellie. I had little congestion on the way to work but nothing that slowed me down. The weather was once again splendid so no complaints here.

At the office I asked for building maintenance to check my office for mold. They responded within an hour. They took down ceiling panels and removed my white board from the wall where a leak had occurred, No sign of mold anywhere. They decided to increase the size of the air return in my office while they were there,

The day went without any noticeable change in my breathing. I decided not to call the doctor until I had some symptoms to display.

The ride home began with two commuter buses gumming up the traffic (and the bike lane) outside my office. That’s okay Loudonites, your cops can harass cyclists but you don’t respect the laws in Arlington.

I took the right onto the trail that connects the Custis Trail to the Mount Vernon Trail. Paramedics where blocking the trail, preparing to take a man, who appeared to be a runner, out on a stretcher. He apparently had some sort of seizure. A passing bicyclist had called 911 and stayed with him offering moral support. This is the second time I’ve seen the Arlington paramedics on this section of the trail and I am very impressed with their calm and professionalism.

The rest of the ride featured the occasional sprinkle but the skies didn’t look too nasty. At Gravelly Park near National Airport a long line of Mennonites, of all ages, sat along the edge of the trail watching planes taking off and landing. They probably got the idea from Wayne’s World. I liked the look of wonder that I got from a little boy with his straw, wide brimmed hat as Big Nellie and I rolled by. His eyes said “WOW!”

The rest of the ride home was a little faster than yesterday. It’s amazing what a little oxygen in your lungs can do for your speed. South of Old Town, I took the Park Terrace and Ridgecrest hill instead of the Mount Vernon Trail. I hit 34 miles per hour on the Park Terrace section this morning. The ride up was about 30 miles per hour slower.

I arrived at home and decided not to water the gardens. Good choice. In 20 minutes the clouds darkened and a downpour commenced. I was inside breathing easy.

Bugs, Bikes, and ‘Toes

I spent the weekend feeding bugs in West Virginia. It was Mrs. Rootchopper’s family reunion and ten bazillion bugs showed up to keep us all company. I had to take several blood breaks. That’s what you call going indoors to clean the blood off your legs from all the bug bites.

Monday was yet another swampy day. The ride isn’t bad but once you stop you sweat uncontrollably. When I arrived back home, I harvested three days worth of tomatoes from my runaway roma tomato plant. Prodigious, prolific, preposterous. I must have picked 30 tomatoes. My frequent riding buddy and Friday Coffee Clubber, Lisa, claimed this week’s crop so I agreed to meet her this morning to hand over the goods.

I headed off for DC hoping to stay upright lest my pannier become filled with marinara sauce. The ride in was pretty normal until I passed Old Town Alexandria. Then traffic picked up and up and up. By the time I had cleared National Airport, the bikes were stretched out all the way to the 14th Street bridge. If this keeps up, there going to have to widen the Mount Vernon Trail to four lanes. (Wouldn’t that be cool!!)

I rode over the bridge to DC and stopped at the Thomas Jefferson Memorial and Official Tomato Rendezvous Point. Lisa showed up a few minutes later. I handed her the big bag o’ toes and she stashed them in her pannier. I felt like a smuggler.

I rode back over the bridge. The crosswind on the bridge made for honest work but, boy, was it refreshing. It masked the humidity until I arrived at the office.

The winds increased during the day and I had a strong breeze blowing from the northwest pushing me all the way home in the evening. It was one of those days that I wish I had the fairing on Big Nellie. I could have sailed home – not that I am complaining about a tailwind.

The two little detours on the Mount Vernon Trail south of Dyke Marsh have given me an excuse to leave the trail early and climb a big hill on Park Terrace Drive. Riding up hill on a recumbent requires big lungs, a super fast pedaling cadence, and patience. I managed to avoid dropping below three miles per hour tonight. I really should take Big Nellie out to Mount Weather or Sugarloaf for a real uphill spin fest some day.

When I arrived home I was greeted by several thousand tiger mosquitos. They feasted on my legs as I picked yet another dozen roma tomatoes. Friend of the blog, Kirstin is getting the next shipment.

Fried Surly Tomatoes

Our heat wave continues. Of course, that’s no reason not to ride my bike to work. And so I did. It’s Friday which means I got up early for Friday Coffee Club at Swings House of Fritters near the White House.

I left at 6:25, way too early, especially considering my attendance at Bike Arlington’s Happy Hour yesterday evening. There’s not a whole lot going on at 6:30 in the morning, so it was just me, Big Nellie, and gallons of sweat. Pedal, pedal.

I saw the Trash Walker near the airport, but he was my only regular du jour. I looked for Nancy Duley under the 14th Street bridge, but she was back in her sumptuous estate in tony Hollin Hall running her AC at 11.

Despite the weather and the fact that we sat outside, Friday Coffee Club was hopping. Ed and Mary had returned from bike touring the high mountains of Colorado. They were still in vacation withdrawal looking just a tad thinner than usual and sporting the kind of smiles only an awesome vacation can paint on your face. Good to have them back.

I carried some extra cargo to Swings today. We have a tomato plant that is producing an insane amount of fruit. Katie beat Lisa to claiming my surplus inventory so I presented her with a bag of ‘toes. This is only fair since Katie stood in the cold of early March to staff a rest stop in Potomac during the Vasa ride. Thanks, Katie.

Kirsten showed up on her new Surly Long Haul Trucker. Talk about a happy camper. She LOVES her new bike. It fits her like a glove. I must say that I have serious new bike envy. I’d go out an buy one myself, but that might start a chain reaction that would cause my bank account and my shed to explode. You see, I have bent lust too. And trike lust. It’s a disease, I tell you.

At happy hour last night, Shawn was talking about bringing shears to trim back the overgrown vegetation on the TR bridge. He and another cyclist (who’s name shouldn’t escape me but does) were out on the bridge in the heat and humidity working away. Nice going, guys.

For the ride home, I had a surprisingly strong headwind. Normally, this is refreshing, but tonight it was just more hot sticky air over my skin. I am taking the weekend off from cycling. When I get back to it on Monday, the heat wave should be over. Ahhh!!!

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