Tag: Tour Easy

Horse Dentists and Wonky Wheels

Yesterday I rode the Great Pumpkin Ride in Fauquier County, Virginia. I have a closet full of the shirts they give out to attendees so I am pretty sure I’ve ridden this event more than a dozen times. The long-sleeved, lightweight shirts are made of technical fabric; they are excellent base layers for cold winter rides.

On Friday night, I stayed up to watch Game 2 of the World Series. I woke up before my alarm at about 4:45. Nothing like riding a 62-mile event when sleep deprived, I always say. After persuading Big Nellie onto my bike rack in the dark, I drove an hour to Warrenton and checked in a little after 7:30. The temperature was a toasty 33 degrees. Ugh.

While waiting around I found myself in conversation with another rider with an interesting English accent. He told me when he came to this country many years ago he worked as a jockey. He raced at east coast venues like Saratoga. After his riding days were over he became a horse dentist. Open wide! He goes from place to place filing down the irregularities on horses’ teeth which allows them to chew their hay better. Who knew? He loves his work. To each his own I suppose.

At 9 we set off, a mass start on a narrow rail trail. I waited a bit to avoid the insanity so I waited for most of the field to get underway. Being a slowpoke and the only recumbent in the field I took care to avoid the impatient lycra-clad roadies who were desperate to set a record on the ride. (I am pretty sure these are the same people who stand as soon as the plane reaches the gate.) Ugh again. In prior years I’ve seen these same folks crash along the course. No two-wheeled karma this year though. I suppose there is hope for the future.

In the past the course took a counter-clockwise route but this year it was reversed. The familiar seems novel when seen from a different perspective. Mostly we rode through farmland, post-harvest and pre-peak foliage. The pallet was dominated by brown leaves and fields of dirt offset by sunny blue skies. (Sorry no pictures. I was busy suffering.)

The first eight miles headed more or less downhill and east into the rising sun. Visibility was difficult. I was cruising down one hill at about 25 miles per hour when out of the sunlight I saw a road rider coming my way. WTF! He must have dropped something but he was unaware that he was backlit and nearly invisible.

The next eight miles were rolling hills through farmland. I noticed that my pedals felt funny on the uphills. Onward. I came to the first rest stop (normally one of the last) at 16.5 miles. I was expecting in a few miles later but grateful as I had a need for a blue room visit. With temperatures soaring into the mid 40s (thankfully it wasn’t windy) I changed into shorts and a vest then joined the long line for relief. The wait was about 15 minutes. Not wanting another 15 minute wait for food, I grabbed a quarter bagel from the crowded food table and set out into a more wooded section of the course.

As I negotiated each hill, that funny feeling in my pedals returned. On hills I use my granny gear, with the chain on the smallest chainring in front. The low gear creates some slack in the chain. The slack is taken up by an idler roughly under my seat.

The ride progressed uneventfully. I managed to avoid two wrong turns along the way. The terrain was rolling. With each climb that funny feeling while pedaling returned. Is my pedal or crank arm coming loose? The more I rode, the worse the feeling became. It became clear that the problem was emanating from the rear of the bike. Was my cassette (the cluster of gears in the back) coming apart? Oddly, the chain wasn’t skipping across the cogs; it was completely disengaging.

The problem worsened. I stopped using my granny gear, opting for my middle chain ring for climbing. After a few miles, the chain problem began to happen in that chainring as well. I’d been riding bikes with gears for over 50 years but nothing like this had ever happened before.

After the rolling wooded area, the course flattened out a bit. An small oncoming SAG (Support and Gear) car came by. The driver could see that I was distressed and asked if I needed help. I waved him off but he did a u-turn and pulled over to make sure I was okay. We agreed that I would continue on to a rest stop in the town of Remington where a bigger SAG vehicle could give me a ride to the finish.

As I continued to ride, I though that maybe the problem was with the rear wheel itself. I made it to a half mile before the rest stop when the back of my bike went totally wonky on the short rise to a railroad crossing. I pulled over and inspected the rear end of the bike. I picked up the back of the bike and the rear wheel dropped off! Somehow the quick release on the wheel had become disengaged. The chain had been keeping the wheel from falling off while I was riding. Dang.

Doing roadside repairs on a long wheel base recumbent is difficult. I managed to get the chain entangled with the right brake pad and to knock the left brake pad cassette out of its holder. I wrestled with the chain, then after a couple of attempts, during which I wrenched my lower back, I seated the rear axle into the frame. Finally, I coaxed the left brake pad back into its proper orientation. I lifted the wheel and gave it a spin. Bob’s your uncle.

Crossing the tracks, I immediately took a wrong turn, adding a half mile to my ride. Eventually, I found the pit stop where the SAG drivers were breaking down the food tables. (No soup for you!) They had heard about the recumbent rider in distress and were ready to help me out. No need, gentlemen. I thanked them and headed out for the next six or seven miles along the rail line, blissfully devoid of hills.

Since we rode downhill out of Warrenton at the start, it was only fair that we’d ride uphill to the finish. I felt very sluggish as I rode. At one point I stopped to see if my rear wheel was properly aligned. No problem. Right as rain. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to ride 62 miles on a quarter bagel and a Clif bar. Ya think?

On the way home I dropped off Big Nellie for some TLC at Bikes at Vienna. Take care of my baby, Tim.

As for riding, I’ll do better next Saturday when The Mule and I take on the Washington Area Bicyclists Association’s 60-mile Cider Ride. Stay tuned and check those quick release levers, y’all.

Big Nellie near the starting line (at the caboose in the background).

The Mo Mo Mo Tour

It’s been six days since illness stopped my tour. I am feeling a whole lot better, not 100 percent but close.

On Monday I did another 30-mile ride on The Mule, again unloaded. Two miles in, I rode up Rebecca Drive, a challenging hill with steep bits. No problem. My legs didn’t tie up at all. I rode 13 miles to the Pentagon at a much faster pace than I planned. I felt great. Along the way, my chest congestion started to break up. Eww. I turned for home and hit a 10 – 15 mph headwind. I’m such a sucker for a tailwind. Still, I made it home in good shape. When I got home, I started re-packing.

Yesterday, I decided to test my endurance. I rode Big Nellie, my recumbent, 30 miles in perfect weather. No hills, just cruising around Mount Vernon. After I arrived home, I mowed the lawn. I finished mowing without crashing and burning. I would have finished the trimming but the skies opened up. I felt fine afterward. Frankly I was a little surprised.

Today, I took Big Nellie out for another ride. This one was flat and easy. It only lasted 23 miles before storm clouds chased me home. It poured five minutes after I went inside. I still have some lingering sinus aches and my chest is a tad congested but I feel much, much better.

I finished packing, making some further adjustments to my load. I added a chain break tool. I subtracted my saddle wrench and my bear bag. I swapped out my big sleeping bag for my lightweight REI sleep sack and a silk liner. I doubt I’ll encounter nighttime temps under 50 degrees. This arrangement only weighs a few ounces less but it’s much smaller.

The plan is to ride back to the scene of the crime, Charlottesville. My route last week was the height and base of an right isosceles triangle, 238 miles. Instead of re-tracing that route, I’m taking the hypotenuse, a straight line from Mount Vernon to Charlottesville through Culpepper, about 125 miles. That’s 75 miles to Culpeper and 50 to Charlottesville, both are Amtrak cities so no worries about a relapse. I’ll be staying in hotels both nights. The weather forecast is perfect.

After Charlottesville, I plan a short, 35-mile day to the Cookie Lady’s house in Afton. This involves the start of the climb over the Blue Ridge. The next day will involve getting to the top of the Blue Ridge, another 30-mile day, if I stop at a campground in Love, Virginia. If I am up to it, I can descend the west side of the ridge to Vesuvius or maybe Lexington where hotels await. After that it’s down the long neck of southwestern Virginia where I’ll have amble church hostel opportunities.

Realistically, I’m taking this slow. One day at a time.

Snaps, Flaps, and Cats

Snaps and Flaps

I was finishing up 50,000 miles on Big Nellie, my Tour Easy recumbent. I was four miles from home when my rear cable snapped. I still had three usable gears so I made it home without too much aggro. I took the bike to Bikes at Vienna and left it in the care of Beth.

When I picked up my bike a few days later, I had a new cable and a new chain. Actually, I had three new chains because that’s how many chains the transmission on this long bike takes. Beth did a light tune up, replacing some seriously noisy brake pads. As I went to take my bike for a test ride, Beth pointed out her aesthetic enhancement to the bike. I had long ago broken off the small, cheap plastic fender flaps and replaced them with black duct tape. Beth noticed the tape had become ratty. She took it off and replaced it with these enormous mud flaps. I think they look awesome. Thanks Beth.

Left to right: Busted cable. Rear fender flap. Front fender flap.

Cats

My friend Rachel lives in Oregon, the high desert part. She has lots of critters. Chickens, a couple of dogs, and a cat. She posted a picture online of how she screened in her porch to create a catitat, or his it habicat? I told her about my friends Mike and Lisa who have built elaborate habicats or cat houses onto the front of their home. It was a lovely day so I rode Big Nellie 23 or 24 miles north to check take some pictures for her. One section is connected to their porch. Another is stands next to the front door. Cats can pass back and forth between the house and cat structure through a basement window.

Clockwise from top left: The porch cat house from the side. The view from the porch. The house next to the front door. The porch house from the street. The front door house from above. The front door house from the side.

After talking with Mike and Lisa and their house guests, Mike showed me an easy way to get to Rock Creek Park for the ride home. Just a couple of blocks through an alley and down a side street, we came to the old Walter Reed Army Hospital grounds which is being converted into a mini-city. Mike is especially happy that they included a Whole Foods store. Most of the development is new but many of the old brick buildings that were once the hospital complex still stand and are being renovated into housing. Mike pointed out one building which was where Dwight Eisenhower died. Imagine living in a condo where an ex-president died.

Mike’s tour ended with the two of us directly opposite Sherill Road and the entrance to the park. The trees are just starting to turn. It will be a riot of colors in a week or so.

Beach Drive in Rock Creek Park. You can almost feel the crisp autumn air.

50 -50: What are the odds?

I bought Big Nellie, my Tour Easy recumbent, almost exactly 21 years ago. It was my go-to bike for about five years but, in recent years, it has become my summertime shorts-and-sandals bike and my wintertime reading-in-the-basement bike. The odometer on the bike records only outdoor miles. Nevertheless, I have been dutifully riding it nearly everyday for the last month so that, today, Big Nellie hit a milestone: 50,000 miles.

When I arrived home from my morning ride to Washington DC, I received a text from my daughter. In 2014, she became a resident assistant at her college. This job gave her free room and board. She had already scored a four-year partial tuition scholarship. As a reward for her hard work at lower the financial burden on her parents, we decided to buy her a car, a Subraru Impreza. Below is the photo from her text message.

What are the odds?

Winter (?) Work

It’s been a snowless winter so far here in the DC area. Temperatures have been warm-ish, with only a couple of days below freezing. I’ve been riding nearly every day which means that my legs think it’s April. My bikes are another story.

I have four bikes and every year I use the winter to get them fixed up. Bike shops are generally not as busy this time of year. Of course, if I had a shred of mechanical skill, I’d do the work myself but as Dirty Harry once said: a man’s got to know his limitations. Or, in other words, my best repair tool is my credit card.

I am fixing my bikes in the following order: Little Nellie, The Mule, the Crosscheck, and, maybe, Big Nellie.

Little Nellie is getting a makeover. The bike is in pretty good shape but I have never liked its drop handlebars. As I get older, I find that riding Little Nellie is really hard on my lower back. A contributing factor might be the long reach to the brake hoods. In any case, it has never felt comfortable, even after getting a shorter stem. Nearly every day I see a man of a certain age buzzing about on his Bike Friday. He has flat handlebars and seems to be quite comfortable. So, I decided to swap my drop bars for handlebars. I could have bought some run of the mill flat bars from a local bike shop but, unlike Bike Friday bars, they are not split in the middle for easy packing. I frequently stuff the bike in the trunk of my car and a single-piece straight bar might not work. Moreover, the bike is designed to be disassembled and put into a suitcase so having split bars would make this much easier.

I contacted Bike Friday to buy a set of handlebars from them but amazingly they blew me off. Their web site no longer has a shopping page. Since they are still selling bikes, they obviously must have bike parts but they wouldn’t sell me a handlebar. I got online and found a bike shop in the DC area that sells Bike Friday tandems so I called them. They had several split bars that I could check out. I drove about 50 miles and compared about six or seven bars. I originally had planned to use straight bars but the shop had set of H-bars, straight bars with vertical end bars. I bought them then brought the bike to Bikes at Vienna for the work.

After a few days, Daniel the mechanic at B@V called me to tell me that I need a new front wheel. The rim is original and has almost 23,000 miles on it so I am not surprised. Between the cost of the bar, the new wheel, new brake levers, cables, housings, and such the total cost of the conversion is about triple what I had planned on. I hope it works. It should be ready sometime this week.

When I pick up Little Nellie, I’ll drop off The Mule. The Mule needs a whole lot of work. The bar tape is shot. The front brake has a skipping action which I suspect means the wheel needs to be trued. I had some problems adjusting the tension on the rear break and may need to replace it. A few months ago I destroyed both fenders and will need new ones. I’ll probably replace the chain and cassette too. They still have some life left in them but changing them now means I won’t have to change them again until after the summer. Finally, the front derailer gave me trouble last summer. It may just be the nature of using aftermarket chainrings that have no ramps (which guide the chain during shifting) combined with shifting under stress. Anyway, it’s worth checking.

Once that is done, the CrossCheck goes in for service. Because I don’t tour on it, it gets a lot less stress than The Mule. Still it needs new wear items: bar tape, chain, and cassette. Maybe brake pads. It has a weird front rim that has a notch between the braking surface and the part that the spokes connect to. That notch eats brake pads. I’ll probably live with the rim since brake pads are cheaper than rims.

Big Nellie is down in the basement on the resistance trainer. It’s in pretty good shape. The shifting is a little sloppy but I can live with it as is. I’ll evaluate it once the weather gets warmer and I can take it for a long ride outdoors.

While all this work is being done my thoughts are turning to a summer tour. Stay tuned.

This bike looks suspiciously like a snow shovel

The year opened with warm weather. Nearly warm enough for shorts on the bike. So naturally I took The Mule out for a couple of rides, managing 62 miles to and from DC. The streets were eerily empty.

Then the storm hit. For the first time in three years we were socked with an honest to god snowstorm. By the time it ended we had 11 1/2 inches in our yard. Wet snow. Good packin’ snow as we used to say during my snowball fighting youth

.I broke out the Wovel and went to work on Monday. Neighbors kept remarking at what a clever invention it is. My back was happy. There is no lifting involved just pushing down and thrusting with the legs. The only drawback was that the was so much snow that I ran out of places to put it. After about three hours, I finished the task of freeing up the cars and went inside. My triceps were screaming at me. All that pushing down was like being in a gym on one machine for hours. I went inside, ate, showered, and hit the couch for a well deserved nap.

Madman with Wovel from 2014

On Tuesday morning I went out for round two. On Monday I moved nine inches or so. Tuesday I moved the rest. Same result. I was sore and tired afterward. I repeated my post-shoveling ritual: I ate, took a shower, and fell asleep on the couch.

Yesterday there was no snow to move. Time to ride! But there was no way I was going out on streets narrowed by plowed snow, covered in brine and sand and salt. So I took to the basement for my first bike/reading session of the year. I managed to last 1:48, what I guess is the equivalent of 19 miles. I did a ladder workout. Starting in the lowest gear, read a page, shift up. Go up to the top gear in that chainring then reverse. Next, shift to the big ring and go back up the ladder. I did two sets. My knees were screaming at me.

Big Nellie on a resistance trainer in the basement.

After my ride, I went upstairs and helped Mrs. Rootchopper and our daughter finish the 1000-piece jigsaw puzzle – an end-of-year tradition at our house – we had begun a few days earlier. Eduard Munch’s The Scream.

You’d scream too if you had to do this puzzle.

Today, I planned on going out to deal with the storm damage in our yard. A cedar tree in our back yard had split near the top. The debris came down and was sitting on the power line to our house. Mrs. Rootchopper cut off some of the lower part of the fallen tree top. This took some weight off the line. For the rest we called Dominion Power. They had a crew out in a couple of days. The crew left their cuttings on the ground. A redbud tree on the side of the house had split down the middle of its main trunk. A couple of other large branches were hanging off other trunks.

Top of tree resting on power line.

I first had to move a pile of snow to make way for the new branches. Next I moved a big pile of branches from my wife’s previous efforts out of the mouth of the driveway. Then I started hauling branches, cutting them so that they would stack neatly, then adding them to a huge pile. I planned on 30 minutes. I even put a load of laundry in. Alas, it took three hours. I slipped and fell twice. It was not a lot of fun.

When I finished I came inside and felt like someone had beaten me with a bat. Every muscle ached. My back. My legs. My hands.

So I ate, showered, and took a nap. And did more laundry.

I hope to ride again tomorrow. That may not pan out. There’s another storm coming overnight.

Big Nellie Update

On Thursday evening, I was riding Big Nellie, my long wheel base recumbent, home from a social event in DC, when the front fork (the part that holds the wheel to the steering mechanism) snapped off. The bike is a Tour Easy which was made by a company called Easy Racers. Easy Racers apparently went under a few years ago. Many of the components on this rather exotic looking machine are standard bike parts made by companies like Shimano and Grip Shifter. Alas, the fork is not one of them.

I posted a picture of my fractured friend online and tagged Bikes@Vienna, the shop where I bought the bike 20 years and over 43,000 miles ago. To my surprise, Tim, the shop owner, said he might have a replacement fork. I drove Big Nellie out to Vienna and dropped it off.

The next day I heard back from Tim and one of his mechanics. The forks they have are not the right size so Tim advised that I send an email to the man who last owned Easy Racers and cross my fingers.

I followed his advice but also sent emails to several well known (to me anyway) recumbent dealers all over the country. One immediately responded with a “no.” A few hours passed when I received an email from Peter at Bicycle Man in Alfred Station, New York. (I am a native of upstate New Your and had to look this up on a map. It’s between Elmira and Buffalo.)

Lo and behold he had a few original Easy Racer forks. After a couple of phone conversations made unproductive by my rank ignorance of bike components, Peter offered to call Tim and iron out a solution. As it turns out, the fork is incompatible with my stem and headset (parts that connect the fork to the handlebars) but that can be remedied by replacing the latter two components which are standard bike parts.

As I write, my new fork is on its way from upstate New York to Northern Virginia. I won’t see the completed bike for several weeks because this is the peak time for bike repairs, a situaiton exacerbated by the pandemic.

The bike also needs a new middle chainring, which was damaged during my crash somehow. And, since I haven’t done any maintenance on the bike in years, there is a laundry list of other repairs. For example, the Grip Shifters lost their tackiness a long time ago, an issue I have been remedying with hockey tape. And since the bike is in for work anyway, I am getting a new chain and cassette (rear gears). The chain is pricey because this bike uses three chains linked in one long loop.

I am not replacing the bar end plugs. I have plenty of wine corks which had a little panache.

So thanks to the interwebs and the brotherhood of recumbent bike dealers, I believe I’ll have Big Nellie back on the road in time for some riding later this summer.

When you get to a fork in the road, break it

This last week or so I’ve been getting out and about, almost like the before times. My daughter and I took in our first Nats baseball game since September 2019. The Nats were kind enough to reward our presence with a win.

On Wednesday, I returned to the ballyard alone for a day game. They won again. My seats were less than ideal. Half the stands were in shade. Sadly, I was not and my legs were fried by the strong summer sun even though temperatures stayed quite comfortable. My sunburn was not for naught; the Nats won again.

Section 317, Row A.

Thursday began with my first trip to a diner in over a year. Later in the day, I attended my first post-pandemic #bikedc social event with the return of Third Thursday Happy Hour. In an exchange on social media, my friend Miles mocked my recumbent. Big Nellie was offended and insisted on being ridden to the get-together. About 20 people assembled at the snack bar at the golf course in East Potomac Park. I haven’t seen so many golfers in one place in my entire life. It was crazy.

The bike crowd was in a good mood and the conversation flowed along with the beer. I did not partake of the brews because of last Saturday’s tummy issues. After a couple of hours I rode home.

All was going splendidly. About seven miles into the ride, the Mount Vernon Trail has a small curve to go around a wooded wet area next to the river. At the peak of the curve, on a slight incline, all was well. I banked Big Nellie to the left to continue down the incline. As my front wheel hit a sizeable bump from a tree root, I began my lean to the right to negotiate the next turn.

And then I crashed.

It happened before I could react. I realized before my right side hit the pavement that my hands, still on the handlebar grips, were in an odd place, off to the left instead of directly in front of me. I landed on the pavement. Ow. My right shoulder, hip, and elbow took the force of the fall. (Just scrapes. No broken bones.) I managed to scoot myself off the trail and onto the grass to avoid being run over.

The pain seemed to intensify as I stood and tried to upright my bike. Then I realized what had happened; both blades of my fork had incurred catastrophic failure. I had to drag the bike to the grass because the front wheel would no longer roll.

No bueno. Over 43,000 miles of wear and tear.

A runner saw the crash and came along to see if I was okay. I said “I want my mommy.”

Okay, I lied about that.

His name was Rob and he carried my bike about 200 yards to a parking area. Thanks, Rob.

Rob. Dead Bike Carrier Extraordinaire

My wife and daughter came to my aid and we drove the last 8 miles home.

I posted pix on the Internet and tagged Bikes@Vienna, the shop where I bought the bike, hoping rather desperately that he could help with a repair. The bike’s manufacturer is no longer in business and the fork is a rather exotic part. It has unusually long trail, which means it situates the front wheel well in front of the frame.

To my astonishment, Tim, the owner of the shop, texted me back saying that he may have a replacement fork.

This morning I rode The Mule to my first Friday Coffee Club since March 2020. My motivation was to see my friend Lis who has been overseas for most of the last couple of years. Lis and I didn’t get to talk much but I did manage to chat with several other people. The weather cooperated splendidly, dry and slightly warm with a soft, cool breeze.

On the ride home I managed to negotiate the curve of doom without incident. The Mule abides.

This afternoon I took Big Nellie out to Bikes@Vienna. Dr. TIm and his able assistant Igor (actually she’s Beth and somewhat disappointingly doesn’t have a hunchback) will take things apart and see what can be done.

My fingers are crossed that Big Nellie can be saved from the recumbent graveyard.

A Lot Can Happen in 61 Miles

Today was my first ride over 60 miles since the last week of September. It was also my 19th day in a row of riding and 11 days in a row with over 30 miles. My weapon of choice was Big Nellie, my long wheelbase recumbent.

My travels took me about 30 miles northwest to Potomac Village, Maryland. Along the way I passed Old Town Alexandria, a decommissioned power plant, National Airport, the Jefferson and Lincoln Memorials, the Kennedy Center, the Georgetown waterfront, historic Glen Echo Park, and a series of neighborhoods that grew posher by the mile. So many gorgeous houses. So much stellar landscaping. A suburban aspirant’s wet dream.

Along the way on the Capital Crescent Trail I spotted a sure sign of spring in DC. A dozen or more cormorants were perched in leafless trees overhanging the Potomac River. They wait there to pick off bass that are swimming upstream to spawn.

For a couple of miles I rode the rolling hills past the famous golf course of Congressional Country Club. This course has hosted four grand slam events since 1964. I haven’t played golf since the Nixon administration but I know an elite course when I see one. Dang.

At Potomac Village I turned back toward the river on Falls Road. After a ten minute break to devour a peanut buttered bagel, I rode the winding, wooded downhill on MacArthur Boulevard, north out of Great Falls Park. On a recumbent this is pure street luge.

Lunch stop

I re-traced my route back to Georgetown. Along the Capital Crescent Trail I was startled by a beefy looking hawk that swooped down in front of me and cruised about 15 feet above the path until it flapped its wings and climbed up through the trees and back toward the river.

All day I was seeing vultures surfing the winds, turning long graceful arcs as they searched for carrion to feed on. Vultures are so beautiful in flight and so ugly up close. At one point I spotted an enormous vulture doing its acrobatics along the river bank near the power plant. It was being shadowed by a much smaller vulture, a young one learning the tricks of the trade.

One advantage of riding a recumbent is the heads up riding position. You see so much more than when riding a conventional bike. Near Dyke Marsh I searched the trees for the bald eagle nest near Belle View Boulevard. Before I saw the nest, I saw a huge bald eagle perched high in a tree. It was standing guard over the massive nest immediately below it in a crotch in the tree. Pity the squirrel that gets too close to that nest.

My legs were pretty well spent when I arrived at home. 61 miles in the books.

When I went in the house and walked downstairs my left knee gave me a stabbing pain and buckled. Oops.

Maybe I should take a day off.

Nah.

Spring Cleaning

Colors

It’s been an odd couple of days around here. Every day a new plant seems to burst into color. Crocuses, forsythia, daffodils. Cherry trees. Redbud trees. These have mostly come and gone but now we are in tulipalooza. I grew up in Ak=lbany NY, a former Dutch settlement. Every year there was a tulip festival. It was a big deal. Or so I am told. I never once attended. Around DC you can’t help but attend. Tulips are everywhere. The Pentagon Reservation (they actually call it that) and the Arlington Memorial Bridge are two places with tulips on display. The front of our house, and countless other houses in suburbia, are another.

In time the tulips will shrivel and die back of course. Don’t despair; azaleas are about to go nuts! We have three azalea bushes that are ready to burst into color any day. Two other azalea bushes planted last year did not survive the winter. My theory of the case is that they were planted too far under the eave of the house and didn’t get enough moisture. If you want to get your azaleas on, there are two pretty cool places in the DC area. One is Bluemont Park in Arlington. It’s right off the W&OD and Custis Trails. The other place is the National Arboretum in Northeast DC. It’s a bit tricky to get to by bike but once inside the biking is grand.

My ungodly looking lilac bushes (they are more like skeletons) are starting to leaf out. Soon their aromatic blue blossoms will emerge, as long as my attempts to cut the bushes back last fall didn’t do them in. I love the smell of lilacs. They remind me of my grade school. I remember going out the door and getting hit with a wave of that glorious scent. Alas, the DC are a is too far south for serious lilac bloomage.

Taxes

Somehow, someway I did several things today that worked out right. The other day I e-paid my estimated taxes. I screwed up the Virginia filing and called the tax office in Richmond this morning to clear things up. After waiting less than five minutes, I talked to an honest-to-god human who told me that I would be fined $500 for my error.

Just kidding.

She was very helpful. She told me my error didn’t stop affect the payment and everything should be okay.

Changing

The other day I brought Big Nellie out of the basement – as sure a sign of spring as you’ll ever see. What you can’t see from this photo is the bald rear tire. It turns out that riding hundreds of miles with the rear tire contacting a resistance unit is not the best thing in the world for tread life.

I found an old Schwable Marathon Plus tire and decided to use it as a replacement. This tire probably has over 5,000 miles on it but you’d never know it. Marathon Plus tires are practically indestructible. And, better yet, they rarely get flats. This is especially good news because installing a Marathon Plus tire is a total pain. I have lost quite a lot of skin on my fingers getting one of these beasts mounted. To make matters worse changing the rear tire on a long wheel base recumbent is like wrestling a dolphin. The bike has a very unbalanced weight distribution. Trying to keep it in one place while working on it can be next to impossible.

So I decided to use my repair stand.

It took me three attempts to get the bike on the stand. The first try worked but I placed it on the stand with the chain facing the lever that clamps the bike to the stand. Not gonna work. So, I took the bike off the stand and turned it around. Picking the bike up was significantly harder because I am right handed. With the bike oriented in this direction my weaker left hand had to pick up the heavier rear end of the bike. I managed to get it into the stand but somehow in the process of applying the clamp the dolphin came loose. Eek. I fed the bike a fish (just kidding again) and tried again. This time the bike stayed on the stand and I closed the clamp. Now I could tilt the bike so the front tire was on the ground and the rear tire up in the air right at the ideal height for swapping out the tire.

The old tire came off with only minor assistance of a set of tire irons. Now came the hard part. I started working the Marathon Plus onto the wheel. I worked my way around the wheel, pushing the tire bead over the rim wall. After only one attempt, the bead popped over the top of the rim. Then I turned the tire around to work on the other side. Somehow, some way I had managed to install that side too. Do you believe in miracles? I flipped the tire around to make sure I wasn’t imagining things. In another few minutes the wheel was back on the bike and I was good to go.

Practice

I have participated in the Chasing Mailboxes Errandonnee every year except last year when it was cancelled because of the pandemic. (I suppose it could have been held but it would have had to be renamed the Infectionnee, or something like that.) The Errandonnee is a friendly challenge to do errands on your bike (or by foot or scooter or some means other than an gasmobile). Errandonneuring is not for the faint of heart. It takes determination and focus.

This year’s Errandonnee starts April 15. I suppose you could just jump right in to the event. With all the good weather we’ve been having, well intentioned errandonneurs often end up with errands undone. You just ride right past the store and end up doing a tour of tulips. There is only one way to avoid a failed Errandonnee.

Practice.

Yes, I know Paul Hornung and Allen Iverson made fun of practice. Let the record be clear: neither Horning nor Iverson ever completed an Errandonnee.

Little Nellie and I would not make the same mistake. Today, I rode my trusty Bike Friday to Walmart to pick up my glasses at the Vision Center. We made use of the fabulous bike parking at the shopping cart return. Walmart ain’t exactly woke when it comes to Errandonneuring. We were not to be deterred and finished the errand in fine fashion.

Then I went for a ride to look at the tulips.

The Errandonnee is open to the public. That means you. You can achieve errandonneuring greatness.