Tag: spring

Errands Numbers 4 and 5

One thing I like about the Errandonnee is I get credit for riding to work. So chalk up an easy one for Big Nellie and me. I started riding with temperatures in the 30s. I w24965491973_afc39dff93_m.jpgas comfy in my winter get up but by the time I got to work it was pretty warm in all those layers. Dressing is going to be a bit of challenge for the next few weeks. When I got to work somebody had locked a road bike to the floor bike rack. There are 18 hanging racks for wedgies (conventional bikes) and 2 spaces on the floor for unconventional bikes like my boss’s Yuba Mundo and Big Nellie. I was tempted to put a note on the bike explaining that he/she was commiting a bike room faux pas. Mais non.

My second errand of the day was to ride my bike to a happy hour with my co-workers. Admittedly this was a two block ride but we must show the Errandonnee flag whenever we can.

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Tonight I drive back to work to pick up some boxes. Boxes > Allison. We are having our wood floors refinished in a month so we have to move all of our stuff from the top two levels of our house.

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Errandonnee Control Card Entry No. 4

Category: Work

Distance: 29 miles round trip

Observation: Big Nellie used admirable restraint in not crushing the fool who took her parking space today.

Entry No. 5

Category: Social Call – Office Happy Hour

Distance: 1/2 mile (if that)

Observation: Riding through the Intersection of Doom after drinking two pints of ale is a sobering experience.

Signs of Spring

Winter must be vanquished. Thankfully, it appears the gods are doing their job quite well. You can tell spring is almost here because:

  • Spring training started (duh). And I am totally stoked for the regular baseball season to begin.
  • The crocuses and daffodils are emerging.
  • The forsythia is starting to bloom.
  • I have finished reading my winter stack o’books. Mrs. Rootchopper gets me a couple of books every Christmas. Plus I add a few. This keeps me from doing insane things like riding my bike on icy roads.
    • An historical novel set in the 2nd World War.
    • A biography of Stonewall Jackson
    • An account of the sinking of the Lusitania.
    • A memoir of a solo bike ride around the world.
    • A biography of Sam Cooke.
  • I have a big pile of unread magazines that stacked up because of all the books.
  • I can now ride to work much faster because I am not carrying a 600 page book.
  • The Mule has been treated to its post-winter TLC at the bike shop.
  • Big Nellie is on the streets. I don’t ride my recumbent in sub-freezing temperatures because its front wheel slides out on slippery surfaces.
  • The wovel is looking forlorn and forgotten.
  • Lance Mamilstrong is out on his bike with all his clones.
  • The lawn mower has been prepped.
  • The Errandonnee is underway.
  • The Vasa ride is only a week away. (You should sign up. When you finish you get some soop.)
  • Birds are making a serious amount of noise before sunrise.
  • I have to refill the bird feeder much more frequently.
  • My pants have done shrunk. (Need some long rides and hikes soon!)
  • My allergies have knocked me for a loop.
  • I want to feel sunlight on my face in a big way.
  • The weatherman says there will be three 70-degree days this week. (Tears of joy.)

Did I miss any?

 

The S Word

I am told that Monday was the end of meteorological winter. Who the hell came up with that idea?

It was damned cold here this morning. I was ready with my chemical toe warmers and layers and such. The ride to work was comfy although I had to switch from Big Nellie to Little Nellie. It was a footwear thing. Big Nellie has clipless pedals and my clipless shoes are not good for cold weather. So I put on my hiking boots and rode Little Nellie which has pedals and toe clips.

The only problem I had was when I fell into my trance approaching the Memorial Bridge. I hit a section of the trail covered intermittently with black ice. Eek!

I rode over some of it then swerved over to the grass for the rest.

Winds were light-ish today. You can now discern the buds on the trees. The willows have a light green tinge to their cascading branches. Soon we’ll get some leafy protection from the wind.

The ride home was a piece of cake. I noticed that Arlington County had sprayed brine on the trail connecting the Custis Trail to the Mount Vernon Trail. Arlington County rocks. Too bad the National Park Service doesn’t follow suit.

About a mile from the house, snow flurries started swirling about. Sorry to use the S word in meteorological spring. The flurries were pretty. We may get and inch or two overnight.

The slushy mess we will have gives me an excuse to work from from home tomorrow .I rode five days in a row this week for a total of over 155 miles.

I think my legs are ready for spring.

 

 

 

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.

Prepping for the Season Opener

Before we get into today’s events, an update on the migration patterns of the East Coast bicycle tourists. I had previously seen a single northbound bike tourist on the Mount Vernon Trail on two occasions in the last week or so. Friday night I spotted one man, Asian, about 30 years old give or take five years. (Suffice it to say, I stink at guessing people’s ages.)  About a minute later, three more Asian men of about the same age rode by. It’s a sure sign of spring. They looked like they were having a blast.

Spring is really happening now. Dogwoods, lilacs, tulips, and redbuds all in bloom. Soon ducklings and gosslings will make their debuts and tortoises will lay their eggs along the edge of the trail.

Now back to today.

Anybody who knows me knows that I am a baseball fan. When Tony Conigliaro was beaned on my 12th birthday, I became a Red Sox fan living in Yankee country. It wasn’t easy. In 1973 I started college at Boston University. I became a Sawx addict. My sophomore year in a dorm about 1 block from the Citgo sign in Kenmore Square and 3 blocks from Fenway Park’s green monster. I drove a cab in Boston during the summer of 1975. I had to walk past the green monster every day to get to the cab company. During the summer many of the passengers wanted to talk about the Sawx. The Boston Globe had the best sports page EVER.

I learned that baseball is about the arc of the season not about each individual game. I went nuts during the fabled sixth game of the ’75 nWorld Series, and mourned at the feeble end of the seventh. In ’78, I learned Bucky Dent’s middle name. (It begins with F.) In ’86 I yelled at the TV “Where’s Stapleton?” wanting to see first-baseman Bill Buckner’s defensive replacement in the sixth game of the 1986 series against the Mets. My kids watched mesuffer as the Yankees won the 2003 playoffs on an Aaron Boone home run.  And they watched daddy completely lose his mind going “Cowboy Up!” during their amazing come from behind stomping of the evil empire in 2004. And they won the Series to boot. Mercy. The next two pennants were fun but anticlimactic although I think 2013 was some sort of divine intervention after the sickening Boston Marathon bombing.

Now I have turned my attention to my new home.

The Nationals are loaded like Ron White on a bender. Their line up is the Death Star. They remind me of the 1978 Red Sox in that they have thunder in their bats Rooting for the Nats is meant to be. They were once the Montreal Expos. My father took us up to Montreal to see Willie Mays and the Giants play the Expos in Jarry Park. Willie didn’t play that day but I have a fond memory of sitting in the smallest major league park on a lovely August day. And besides the Expos gave Boston Pedro!

Tomorrow I go to my first Nats game of the season. I will try to refrain from yelling “LETS GO EXPOS!” during the game. I will bike the 14 miles to the stadium for the first time since that impossibly sad day last September.

Today I spent the day getting stuff out of the way for tomorrow’s fun. I picked up my holey sweaters at the dry cleaner. After a somber ceremony, they will be put in storage for next winter. Then I washed all my winter bike clothes. My jacket and vest were both disgustingly dirty. I had no hope they’d come clean but I will be damned if they don’t look like new. IMoving outdoors, I removed raised beds from our back yard. They had failed to produce more than a handful of veggies for several years. After an hour plus of digging dirt, I think it’s time for someone to invent a dirt version of the Wovel.

Next I mowed the lawn, learning in the process that it was mighty hot out for mid April. Dehydrated, I decamped to the family room and watched the second half of the Nats game. (They lost. We’ll get them tomorrow.)

After the game I took The Mule out for an easy spin to check the bald eagle nests along the Mount Vernon Trail. I saw one eagle in the massive nest at Fort Hunt Park. I didn’t see any other eagles at the four nests between the stone bridge and Tulane Drive, but I did run into Reba, fellow bike commuter and Friday Coffee Clubber. She was looking for the nests without much luck so I took her on a tour. It’s a good thing she was looking today because in about a week the leaves on the trees will make the nests very hard to find, even if you know where to look. We didn’t see much eagle action but at least Reba knows where they are.

Winter clothing is cleaned. Chores are done. Legs are refreshed.

Okay, Mule, take me out to the ballgame.

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.

Surrender Winter

Having survived a couple of atypically stressful days of bike commuting, I was looking forward to doing some errands by bike today. Mother nature was not on board.

Shortly after waking, I did my 45 minute yoga routine (doctor’s orders) and 15 minutes of less than fruitful meditation. Yoga and meditation are supposed to go hand in hand but I spend so much effort concentrating on my form and my breathing while doing yoga that I have nothing left for the sedentary portion of the program.

I am getting a bit better at balancing which is not saying a whole lot. My routine ends with one pose that involves sitting on your lower legs and leaning back. This is supposed to lead to the reclining warrior pose. The reclining warrior involves leaning all the way back until your head and shoulders rest on the floor. Very relaxing. That is of course if you don’t have bicycle quads and bad knees. I am lucky if I can get to a 45 degree angle before my knees start chanting, “Fuck yoga, Fuck you.” Be one with your cartilage is my mantra.

Suffice it to say, I do only as much as I can. The can’t poses all involved stressing the quads or doing a headstand. It still amazes me that at one time in my life I could actually do a free standing head stand. It is also true that at one time in my life I drank heavily. Coincidence? I think not.

Having endured my weekly self abuse session, I decided that the howling wind and 23 degree temperature was not bike friendly. I drove to Huntley Meadows Park for a walk in the woods. Please don’t tell anyone but Huntley Meadows is an oasis of calm in a sea of suburban ick. A trail through the park makes something of a figure eight. About 1/3 of the trail is a boardwalk out into a wetland.

As a kid I spent many a summer day on Dead Man’s Pond in Albany. Big sections of tree trunks made for awesome rafts that we would pole across the scum-covered water. To my nine year old eyes, Dead Man’s was enormous. In reality, it was probably smaller than an acre in size. Not true of the wetlands at Huntley Meadows.

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The recent decision to allow beavers to do their thing has greatly expanded the wetlands. Only a few years ago, the swamp would drain completely during parts of the year. Now the waters go well into what was once woodland. Beaver lodges are all over the place. I think the most interesting thing about the wetlands is that it never looks the same from visit to visit. Today it was iced over. A couple of times my weight on the boardwalk put stress on the ice and it made a surreal creaking sound. The wind kept my time on the boardwalk to a minimum. Thankfully, only a few other people were in the park. Once I made it back into the woods all I could hear was the sound of the wind, the groaning the trees, and the occasional chirp of a chickadee.

I did two laps through the park, warming as I went. On my final circuit a couple with three young boys stopped and pointed into the woods. A small deer was about 100 yards away munching something on the ground.

I drove home and figured the animal portion of the day was over. As I pulled into the driveway, I spotted six robins bounding on my front lawn. An hour later, Mrs. Rootchopper, camera in hand, woke me from a brief nap. A fox was hanging out in the backyard. It’s the first fox sighting we’ve had since last spring.

Spring. It has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?

Surrender winter.

Bad Crank, Good Karma

I made up my mind that I’d drive to work today in order to avoid getting water from the rain that was forecasted on the bandage on my hand. This morning the forecast was updated to no rain so I rode. I took The Mule as a shakedown ride in anticipation of this weekend’s ride in North Carolina.

About 2 miles into the ride I noticed that my left pedal was skipping. Every rotation had this spastic jump in it. At first I thought it was my shoes. Then I thought my toe clip was falling off. After 3 1/2 miles I pulled over and saw that my left crank arm was loose. I turned around and headed back home. A mile from home the bold holding the crank arm fell off. I recovered it, threaded it on my hand and carefully rode the last mile. Normally, this would make me mad, but I am thankful that this happened here rather than in NC.

I switched to Little Nellie and rode to work. Along the way I saw a dead deer along the trail near Dyke Marsh. Next, in the marsh north of Slaters Lane, I caught some motion in the water out of the corner of my right eye. It was a beaver diving under the surface as he swam toward me.

As I passed under the railroad bridge north of the airport I noticed a runner coming toward me with a funny look on his face. I looked to my left and saw a scruffy looking fox just standing there next to the trail. He made no attempt to run off.

North of the Humpback Bridge I passed a three-car accident on the adjacent Parkway. It looked like a chain reaction rear-ender. I’ll take a broken crank over whiplash any day.

I rode in with a jacket on, but stowed it for the ride home. It was 60 degrees and the riding was lovely. A gentle tailwind pushed me along. When I arrived home, I felt unusually tired. I think the combination of dealing with being a lefty for a day and inhaling a ton of pollen wore on me.

Tomorrow, I’m heading south to Oriental NC for 3-days of biking, lord willin’ and the creek don’t rise.

Winter’s Over? You’re Seeing Things!

Today, sometime after 1 pm, winter allegedly ended. j

Really. 

The 42 degree bike commute felt like summer. The Mule was kind to my aching back and knees. We made decent time on the way to work. As an experiment, I kept track of the number of bike commuters who were male and female. The Washington Area Bicyclists Association has a program, led by the indominable Nelle Pearson, to encourage women to ride bikes. This puzzles me because so many of my bicycling friends are women. At one point the count was 5 male, 4 female. I thought so! Then I got into the thick of the bike commuters north of Alexandria. Final score: Males 26, Females 11. 

I would do this more often but I often go into a trance on my bike commutes. 

I only stopped once on the way to work. Some Canada geese were chowing down on the grass between the trail and the river north of Memorial Bridge. As I rode past, I spotted what I thought might be a bald eagle grazing among them. Nope. it was a white-headed Canada goose. An partial albino goose. I’d never seen such a thing.

I took a couple of pictures but left my camera in my handlebar bag which is in the shed. So I’ll post it tomorrow.

The ride home was pretty darn nice. 62 degrees at the start dropping to 58 degrees. They say winter is over. Don’t bet on it. The “S” word is in the forecast. 

 

Errandonnee #6: Little Nellie Goes to Work

Between oversleeping and a longish yoga session, I was out the door 30 minutes later than normal. I overslept because I took Vitamin I with a sedative before going  to sleep. I hope the I works as good as the zzzz.

The good part about my departure was that it was daylight. The bad part was that The Mule had a flat rear tire. Well, at least it didn’t go flat on me on the road.

My only option was Little Nellie, my Bike Friday. With its little wheels it’s a bit hard on the back. Given my recurring back woes, I wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of riding her. Of course, that didn’t stop me. I hopped on Little Nellie and took off for work.It was in the 40s, too warm for the holey sweater but too cool for shorts.

The ride in was uneventful. I saw a different set of people than usual, except for the Hoppy Runner. I normally pass him as he heads south but today I passed him heading north.  I was pleased to make it all the way to work without any significant stiffening in my back or hips. Taking 600 mgs of Vitamin I may have had something to do with that.

Errandonnee #6: Little Nellie Goes to Work

Throughout the work day I alternated between sitting at my desk and standing. I spent much of the day reading a document about the Internet in 2025.  One of the experts cited was Bob “Don’t Call Me Rachel” Cannon. It never ceases to amaze me that so many people I know are experts. Somehow we got put in charge. Yikes. Does this mean I have to grow up?

The ride home was pretty damned awesome. 70 degrees!!!!  The Mount Vernon Trail was pretty crowded. Nearly everyone was well behaved. One exception was this man, about 55 to 60 degrees who was walking south just past Gravelly Point park. As I rang my bell to pass him, he stopped turned and yelled at me. He did this last week too. I didn’t respond but I am wondering if this guy may be the same person who pushed a cyclist off his bike a few weeks ago.

I stopped on one of the flyover bridges at National Airport to shed some outerwear. Off came the jacket and the skull cap and the glove liners. It felt so good to feel the wind on my arms.

I must have had a tailwind. I was going 2 to 3 miles per hour faster than usual. I seemed to actually have my mechanics back after so many weeks of fighting with my back and hips. Yoga is making me much more comfortable on the bike, too.

Just south of Dyke Marsh I came upon a man standing next to the trail. He seemed to be buttoning up his dress shirt. He was ratty looking. I don’t often see homeless people this far south. He had gray hair and a messy short beard. It occurred to me that he vaguely resembled the sketch of this Alexandria homicide suspect. Except the suspect looks well groomed. The more I look at the sketch the more I think I’ve seen this person before. The twist in his lip and the eyes remind me of someone. Creepy.

A few hundred yards later, just before the Morningside nest,  I came up a large limb across the trail. I dismounted and started to remove it when another cyclist hopped off his bike and grabbed the opposite end. We had it off the trail in a matter of seconds. I later learned from Nancy “Two Sheds” Duley that the disheveled man had been spotted throwing debris onto the trail.

Speaking of the Morningside nest, I spotted a picture on a Flickr page from a local photographer. A bald eagle has returned to the nest. Soon breeding season will begin.

After arriving at home, I started to change to tire on The Mule. I could not find a leak. I pumped the tube up until it looked like an inner  tube but it wasn’t leaking. Maybe the valve is bad. I decided to put the tube back in the tire, remount it, and check again in the morning. Since it was so nice out, I did some maintenance work on Little Nellie, too.

Tomorrow is supposed to be another warm day. With thunder storms. March is tempermental.

Errandonnee #6

Category: Work

Miles: 30

Observation: I was pretty pleased that the new fair weather commuters were all well behaved today. No one buzzed me too closely. Except for the two loonies, people were smiling.