Tag: winter

Free at Last

Yesterday began with a trip to the rec center for biking and weights. Next we went to the grocery store for milk and a few other items. Then came the big one: a trip to my local hardware store. A couple of years ago they had a Wovel in stock. It was way over-priced so I passed on buying it, seeing as how I had one already. Little did I know they were no longer being made.

I asked the owner of the hardware store if he had any Wovels. Nope. He sold the last one a couple of years ago. Bummer. He asked if it was a good tool and I said it was the best. Maybe he can convince a supplier to come up with a substitute.

I walked around the store and came to realize that the place was sold out of salt, shovels, and bird seed. Insane.

When we returned home I grabbed my spade and snow shovel and went back to work on the car. I needed to free up the right side of the car and the right front wheel. This was tricky because the car was parked about 10 inches from the curb, barely enough to wedge the spade in. Also, the snow on which I needed to stand was solid ice. I had to hack footholds into the stuff. Once I had anchored my feet, I could chop away, being extra careful not to hit the tire or the side of the car. At one point I had to reach down and lift slabs of ice from beneath the right edge of the car with my hands.

After a half hour I concluded that I would not be able to get all the ice off the tire. I decided to try and back the car out. No guts. No glory. After some rocking forward then back I managed to get enough momentum to free the car and back it up about a car length. Success. After another 15 minutes of clearing solid ice from where the car had been, I tossed some salt on the pavement and re-parked the car about three feet to the left of its previous parking spot.

This morning I took some recycling out to our trash cans. I had to traverse about 60 feet of “lawn”. Solid ice. It was a good think I had stomped some holes into the snow/ice pack the other day.

It looks like the next big storm, expected tonight, will miss us to the south. There may be a dusting but that’s about all. Temperatures will rise slightly above freezing for a few days midweek. The refreezing overnight will be insane.

Hurry spring.

A Dollar in the Dryer and It Ain’t Dry Yet – Ice Shoveling Version

I took a couple of days off from snow and ice clearing, mostly because I was seriously sore. Yesterday my wife had trouble getting her car in the driveway; apparently someone (yours truly) had left the gap in the snow at the end of the driveway a tad two narrow for her Outback.

Today, the cleaning service came to our house so my wife and I went to a diner for breakfast. Afterwards we headed to the rec center to lift weights. Neither the rec center not the library was open so we found a parking lot and played on the phone (me) and napped (she).

At noon we headed back to the rec center to use the weight machines. I found the weight surprisingly easy to move despite, or maybe because of, my shoveling work out.

After our weight routine we headed back home. I went outside to widen the driveway gap using the garden spade that I repaired last night. The snow and ice lasagna (a term I saw online) first had to be separated from the pavement. It came up in slabs and chunks. I had to chop up the big pieces into throwable smaller chunks. After about two hours my back was aching and I quit. I opened the gap and freed up most of the back half of my ice bound Accord.

After lunch and nap, I went into the basement to ride Big Nellie for an hour. Recumbent riding always seems to set my back right, and today was no exception to the rule.

Tomorrow I go back out to try to liberate the Accord again. I need to get this done by Saturday before the next snow storm comes. Then I can spent Sunday, re-liberating my car so I can get to a doctor’s appointment on Monday.

We’re having fun now.

Shovel Unready – An update on the storm

As I mentioned in my last post, my Wovel snow shovel died while I was working to clear snow and ice. A few hours later, as the sleet kept coming down, my wife went out for round two. She managed okay but the plastic pan of the snow shovel she was using started to crack.

Today I went out to deal with about one inch of ice on the walkway to our front door and in the driveway. I used a garden spade to chop the ice one foot at a time. First, I’d chop across the walkway creating a one foot wide swath. Then I’d chop into the swath 90 degrees from the first cut to make squares I could easily remove.

I thought this was going to take an hour at most but after an hour I managed only to make it to the driveway. I kept hacking away using the same method until I noticed that the nail that held the handle to the wooden shaft of the spade had fallen out. I spotted it on the driveway and went into the basement to find a replacement. I found two slightly longer nails and put one on each side of the handle.

Back outside everything was going great. I had my wife’s car dug out when I noticed that both nails had fallen out. I search everywhere but came to the conclusion that they must have been cast onto the lawn. Ugh. The spade was useful as long as I didn’t pull up on the handle. So I continued scraping and cutting away and found that now the rest of the driveway was easier to clear, probably because of the sun’s rays. I had about 15 yards of pavement until I reached the cleared lane in the street. The ice was starting to come up in big heavy slabs. I loosened the ice with the spade then used our one remaining snow shovel to clear it away. After three hours I broke through the plowman’s barrier in the street. My shoveling form had gone to hell but I kept slogging away. My lower back was now very unhappy but I was nearly done.

After making a clear path for my wife’s car I quit. My car was parked at the curb. I had freed it yesterday but it was now encased in ice and plowed snow. Freeing it will have to wait until later in the week when hopefully the temperature rises above freezing and my arms and back recover.

The weatherman is talking about more snow Saturday night into Sunday morning. Ugh.

There’s Cold, then There’s COLD

What’s the coldest you’ve ever been? I can think of three days in particular when the cold made me truly miserable.

One reason I moved south to the mid-Atlantic over 40 years ago was to get away from winter in the Northeast. I grew up in Albany, went to college in Boston, and then went to grad school in Providence. I can recall running in sub-0 weather in Albany when my ears froze about half way into a 2 1/2 mile cabin-fever-escape run. The cold was bad but the thawing out was worse. In Boston the cold temperatures were worsened by brutal winds. Providence isn’t as cold but that only means that the side streets become glaciers. Another of my coldest days was spent on a day trip with my girlfriend to Boston in running shoes. The streets were frozen slush. By evening my feet were screaming in pain as we rode the bus ride back to Providence. The half mile walk to my girfriend’s apartment had me in a world of hurt.

My coldest memory dates back to camping in Yellowstone National Park in 2023. My tour mates, Cory and Mark, brought sensible camping gear. I had brought my flimsy REI sleep sack (rated to 60 degrees F) and a silk sleeping bag liner that would have kept me reasonably comfortable down to about 50 degrees. Having spent a chilly night in my tent in a National Forest campground east of the Grand Tetons, I decided to buy a thin fleece blanket at the Grant Village general store. Sleek sack, liner, and fleece should keep me warm right? Not even close. Grant Village sits at 7,800 feet. That night temperatures dipped into the low 30s. Dang. I twice walked to the campground bathroom to warm up during the night. My guess is that the bathroom was about 45 degrees inside. By sunrise I has slept exactly 0 minutes and my feet were purple. There are no words to describe the relief I felt when I walked inside the heated restaurant at Yellowstone Lake.

Last Friday morning I rode 14 1/2 miles to Friday Coffee Club in DC. It was 24 degrees outside. I wore all the things and used chemical hand and toe warmers. I even broke out my over boots, which I used when I commuted to work in temperatures even lower. The first two miles were uncomfortable but I took solace in the fact that I was nowhere near as cold as Yellowstone.

I stopped to take a photo of the emerging sunrise. Even after the sun came up, the temperature barely budged.

Daybreak at Dyke Marsh on the Mount Vernon Trail.

Just before taking the picture, I passed two runners. One was wearing shorts. He had on layers on top and a ski cap and was clipping along at well under 8 miles per hour. Based on my running experience in Providence I could tell he was reasonably comfortable. To be honest I was not going much faster on my bike, the better to keep the wind chill down. A mile later I came upon the runners stopped near their cars at a parking lot. They seemed pretty happy having braved the cold for their morning miles.

I kept moving. After another couple of miles, I could see the planes flying into National Airport were landing to the North into a light wind. Ugh. About 12 1/2 miles into the ride I crossed the Potomac River on the 14th Street Bridge. Midway across the span I passed a runner. He had on a thin long-sleeved shirt under a thin t-shirt. He wore flimsy running pants and nothing on his head or neck. Insanity. Total insanity. He seemed not to care a bit about the conditions. Runners are like that.

To my surprise about ten people showed up for coffee. We are a hardy bunch.

My wife keeps reminding me not to complain. It’s January. She grew up in northern Indiana were schools close only when the wind chill is life-threatening at the school bus stop.

In a few days we will be plunged into a polar vortex, several days with highs below freezing. And, on Sunday, we expect to see our first significant snowfall of the season. Needless to say, I’ll be riding Big Nellie in the basement. Except for Sunday when I expect I’ll be putting all my recent weight lifting to use clearing the white stuff with my Wovel. It’s like a triceps press on a wheel.

Madman with Wovel

Cooling Down and Lightening Up

Ah, we find ourselves in the coldest week of the year. Or so the weatherman says, T. S. Eliot be damned. My memory says that mid February is worse but what do I know.

We are definitely getting more sunlight by the day. I must say that I haven’t succumbed to the winter blues yet, probably because recent weather has been conducive to outdoor riding. The Mule and I did 40 miles a couple of days ago. Sadly, I discovered that my cruising speed has dropped another notch. It is depressing to see 9.8 on my speedometer but it is what it is. I suppose when I get the layers off and get back to riding in shorts that I will see double digits again.

I’ve also been doing a fair amount of riding indoors. Today’s wind chills were in the 20s so a session on Big Nellie in the basement was in order. Riding inside also means I read a lot. I’ve knocked off five of the books I received as Christmas gifts. Book six, from an unknown donor, is next. I’ll give my impressions at the end of the month.

I have finally given up on my Surly CrossCheck. It no longer agrees with my body, specifically my upper back and neck. I offered it to a friend and he seemed somewhat interested. If he doesn’t want it, I’ll donate it to a local charity.

One of the gift books I read was about the town of Deadwood, South Dakota in the Black Hills. I have always wanted to ride the Michelson Trail (which ends in Deadwood) through the Black Hills and this book rekindled that idea. I checked and the southern start of the trail is about 1,100 miles from my in-laws’ place in Indiana. I’d need to launch by mid-May to avoid the summer heat of the Plains. The trail itself is about 110 miles. After that would come a two-day ride to Devils Tower which I’ve never seen. I honestly don’t know if I still have a big tour left in my old bones. We’ll see how I feel in April.

Nothing quite perks up the start of a new year quite like having a colonoscopy which I did last week. The prep seemed to take much more out of me (no pun intended) than ever before. Fortunately, no cancer was found so now I can go back to growing more polyps for my next procedure in 3 years.

At the start of the month, I made a list on my phone of adulting chores to do in January. I’ve knocked off several such as getting a new battery for the car, re-registering the car, taking disused clothes to Goodwill, taking old books to a used book store, and the like. I also spent far too many hours trying to gain online access my Social Security account. I finally succeeded and learned why the security software was rejecting me; I had fat fingered my phone number when I set up my account. Doh.

I am trying my best to avoid the news on TV. It is incredibly depressing. Newspapers as flawed as they may be are less stressful.

I have become addicted to word games. These suck up an hour every day. Which reminds me: today’s Waffle puzzle was posted 20 minutes ago.

On Average. The Weather Is Lovely

Most people around here have probably already forgotten that this summer was peppered with heat waves that made going outside an exercise in stupidity. (Didn’t stop me though.)

Ah, the joys of summer

Lately, we’ve been dealing with what you might call the polar opposite, frigid air with no end in sight. Temperatures have been running 10 to 15 degrees F – and I mean F – for the last couple of weeks. I should be basking in 50 degree weather, borderline riding-in-shorts weather. Instead, I spend a good ten extra minutes finding layers to layer and sticking toe warmers in my shoes. I have not yet broken out my balaclava and my winter overboots, which I usually use only in January and February, but I can hear them calling from the dresser filled with winter gear in my basement.

So, on average, it’s been a run-of-the-mill year weatherwise. Now if we could just work on the variance we’d have a meteorological hoedown, statistically speaking.

Thinking ahead to decent riding weather in December I took Big Nellie and The Mule in for service. They are ready to rumble. Then snow came. Just an inch but enough to make me wary of a crash, a circumstance that my beat up right shoulder wants nothing to do with. I brought my CrossCheck inside and mounted it on a resistance trainer. I managed one hour before the boredom and intensity of my workout damned near did me in.

The snow, all one inch of it, melted in a day so I’ve been riding outside. I have about 20 miles in me before I start raging at the weather gods and dreaming of spring. (Just four months to go!)

Then it occurred to me that our newly renovated rec center has stationary bikes. I tried the recumbent model our and really liked it. You can mount reading material or plug in your phone for entertainment. It even has a fan to keep me from overheating. I did an intense workout, expecting to ride for an hour before the digital fitness overlords terminated my session with an automatic “cool down” feature after 30 minutes.

Why not?

Today I mixed and matched. I rode The Mule 7 miles from home to the rec center then rode a half-hour session on the rec bent. Next I lifted weights for a half hour before a second session on the rec bent. Then I went back outside to discover that the temperature had dropped during my time inside. Windy 34 degrees is not my cup of tea but The Mule and I managed to do another 10 miles before headed inside for hot soup.

All of this is aimed at my inane goal of riding 10,000 miles this year. Entering December I had 520 miles left to go. Given the weather, holiday festivities, and shopping, I felt the goal was going to be a serious challenge. So far so good. I have 319 miles to go with 23 days to go. In 2017 I finished the year less than 100 miles short of 10,000 because my cardiovascular system gifted me blood clots for Christmas.

The frigid temperatures have brought out the weirdness in our local critters. I have seen more vultures this week than I have all year. This may be because I’ve been riding Big Nellie with it’s panoramic view combined with the lack of leaves on the trees. I saw four vultures along the Mount Vernon Trail at Dyke Marsh the other day. The other day there was the big snake in my backyard. It turned out to be a harmless garter snake but it was very feisty, trying to bite whenever it was approached.

Say hello to my not so little friend

Today, I spotted this sign in New Alexandria about a mile from the rec center.

We’re having fun now.

If the weather don’t get you, the wildlife will.

Temporary Southpaw No More

Tuesday morning was my first post-op appointment with my hand surgeon. As expected my (3) stitches were removed. They were replaced with three steri-strips, which will hold the incision together for the next week when they should fall off.

I disclosed all my symptoms to the surgeon and he said “That’s normal” over and over again. I have various pains in my hand and even my elbow but the doctor said that unless they persist they are not a big deal.

I go back to the doctor in mid-March for another status check. In the meantime, I can use my hand “as tolerated”. It was time to put the hand through its paces.

Later in the day we had our second significant snowfall of the season. Mrs. Rootchopper and I went outside after three hours of snowfall and had at it. There was about two inches of snow on the ground and more was coming down fast.

I started by using a tool to clear the snow off our cars. My right hand didn’t much like this but once I warmed up, adapted my grip, and gave most of the work to my left hand, I had no problem. Next I picked up a snow shovel and cleared the sidewalk, driveway, and other areas. No problem. My hand was a bit sore but functioned well. More snow fell overnight so I went back out before breakfast and had at it again. If anything, my hand tolerated round two of shoveling better than round one.

Second snowfall of the winter

Yesterday, I took The Tank out for a ride. This was my first time on a conventional bicycle since the surgery. I made it ten miles without discomfort. I soldiered on, moving my hand position and unweighting my right hand, for another 20 miles. At the end of the ride, my neck hurt much more than my hand. My body is a wonderland of pain. Before riding today, I rotated the handlebars a smidge toward me. That did the trick. My neck tolerated the ride just fine. My hand held up without discomfort for 18 miles. I continued on as before, for another 12.

My bigger concern during today’s ride was the scary drivers I encountered. One driver turned sharply across my line of travel. I made eye contact and yelled at him. I could see that his car showed signs of multiple fender benders.

Earlier I passed Porto Vecchio, a condominium on the Mount Vernon Trail. Today, a car blew through the red light across the trail to make a left turn across traffic heading in both directions. How the seemingly oblivious driver avoided a crash is beyond me. Not to be outdone, left-turn driver was immediately followed by a right-turn driver who blew through the red light, just as a driver who hit me at this very spot in 2019. I third car pulled up aggressively as if to blow the light. I yelled at the driver to stop as I about to cross in front of the car. WTF.

After the snow shoveling and bike riding, I iced my hand for a half hour. So far, my hand seems to be bouncing back from these efforts without problems.

Sooo,

Today, I signed up for the Adventure Cycling Association’s van-supported Natchez Trace bike tour. It’s 456 miles in seven days. I have been putting off this decision for days, thinking that I might not be in shape for some seriously long days in the saddle (the longest day is 82 miles). Thanks to the van, however, I’ll be touring, for the first time, without carrying 40 pounds of gear; I only have to carry rain gear, some basic bike tools that I carry all the time, and snacks.

My next objective is to lose some weight in the next seven weeks.

No gut. No glory.

Well, at least it’s pretty

It finally happened. A significant snowfall came our way. According to the National Weather Service, my neck of the woods received eight inches during the main part of the storm. A few hours later we had another inch that was light and fluffy.

I can’t really use a conventional snow shovel because it would cripple me, being of compromised lower back architecture. Luckily, I have a wovel, a.k.a. a snow wolf. It looks about as weird as a recumbent bike, but like the recumbent bike it works like a charm.

The wovel has a large pan that can holds two or three times as much snow as a regular snow shovel. If you try to lift a full pan of snow you’ll be sorry.

Instead, you push down on the crossbar and use the big wheel to move the snow then thrust with your legs and push down more on the crossbar to cast the snow off to the side. Brilliant.

This series of pictures from the wovel website shows how it is done.

Step 1. Push the wovel to pick up snow.
Step 2. Push down on the crossbar to lift the snow.
Step 3: Step toward the wheel and push down to toss the snow.

Your neighbors and Facebook friends will laugh at you but ignore them. It works! It clears snow roughly two or three times as fast as a conventional shovel and about half as fast as a snow blower.

I created some long piles of snow along the side of the street and had to cast more snow over the top of the piles. Let’s just say that my tossing technique could use some work. Also, I ran out of places to put the snow so I had to walk around with a full shovel to find fresh landing spots.

I have to say that eight inches of snow is about the limit that my 69-year-old body can handle. Next time, I’ll tackle the wovelling in waves, four inches at a time.

Had I used a conventional shovel, my lower back would have been screaming at me after 20 minutes. Using the wovel, the only thing that hurt was my triceps and my upper back muscles. They both really felt like I had hit the weight room. I took some ibuprofen and rested afterwards.

The next day I was a hurtin’ unit. My upper back muscles and triceps were super sore. (My hands were achy but I have carpal tunnel syndrome so that’s to be expected.) I managed to use a conventional shovel to clear the small amount of snow from the second wave of snowfall. Afterwards I did my normal stretching routine and rode 2 1/2 hours on my recumbent in the basement.

I checked the road near my house and there are significant sheets of ice here and there. So riding outside is not going to happen for a while. I’m headed down to the basement where Big Nellie and me are going to tackle Huckleberry Finn (in advance of reading James).

Arrivals

It’s been a very mild winter here in DC. We haven’t had any snow in two years. This is about to change,

The last couple have days the temperatures have been in the low 30s with gale force winds.

According to the app on my phone it feels like it’s in the teens out there.

Of course, the App people don’t bother to factor in that when you’re riding a bike into the wind it feels even colder.

For some reason my body tolerated the cold yesterday. I managed to ride 30 miles comfortably. Today was a different story. I began by riding about a mile to check out Bernie. He looked a whole lot warmer than I felt. Note the double decker Buff I have on. It thick on the bottom to protect my neck. On top, it’s thin for breathability. I doubled the top over to avoid infecting the Bern.

After my Bernie moment, I decided to ride up a side street. “Up” being the operative word here. It was a steep climb then a chilly descent then another climb to the top of Mason Hill. Under my blue wind jacket I had on a short sleeve base layer, a long sleeve base layer and a holey wool sweater. Somehow the sweat from the climb didn’t wick very well. The descent from the Mason Hill was frigid. Ugh.

I kept plodding along. I passed through New Alexandria, a cute neighborhood just outside the DC Beltway. One of the residents puts up a road sign now and then. Mrs. Rootchopper appreciated this snarky one.

I never did warm up so I decided to pack it in after 21 miles. One more day of riding before we get hit with our first snowstorm in ages. Before I went inside, I made sure the Wovel was ready for action.

Today I learned that my local hardware store has closed because an employee has Covid. The people in the store have been very sloppy about wearing masks. When I shop there, I go in and out as fast as I can to limit my exposure. In any case, I haven’t been in there for a week so I hope I am virus free.

Covid appears to have an interesting side effect. I recently heard that there is a nationwide decline in the birth rate during the pandemic. My circle of friends are bucking the trend. Claire (whom I have known since infancy – hers, not mine) welcomed Della few weeks ago. I met Megan at the pit stop on the first Cider Ride outside DC. She, a self-described Florida girl, was freezing her ass off. A little over a week ago Megan gave birth to Wesley (her first). About that time, my friend Jacques announced that his wife Liz was due any day and, well, she delivered Lucille a few days later. And Melina, who we met as a three-year-old at our son’s preschool, posted a picture from the delivery room earlier today. The baby will be her first. Congrats to all. Maybe I should put together a tour du diapers.

Reverse Winter

I grew up in the northestern US. I lived there for 28 years. Every winter we’d have a “cold snap”. If you lived away from the coast this meant that for two weeks the temperature would drop below 0 and the wind chill factor would make it feel like 10 – 20 below.

Frostbite in Albany

Over Christmas one year, my brother Joe and I got cabin fever while visiting my parents. We decided to bundle up and go for a run in sub-zero wind chill weather. We picked the 3-mile loop road at what was then called the State University of New York at Albany. I was running marathons in those days and Joe was not. We were doing about 9 minutes a mile when I put my hand up to scratch my ear. Joe slapped my hand down. “Don’t touch it. It’s frozen. We’d better get back to the car.”

I was a more than a little freaked out. I looked over at him and said, “Bye” and dropped the hammer. I guess I did the last 1 1/2 miles in about 9 minutes. No lie. I balled the jack. It took a few hours for my ears to thaw out. The Scotch I drank back at my parents’ house didn’t help much.

Heat Exhaustion in DC

Ever since I have had a healthy adversion to frostbite. Then there is the opposite situation.

Around the same time, I spent the summer in DC. At the time, it turned out to be the hottest summer on record. (It has since fallen to second place.) Like a whole bunch of other government interns I lived in a dorm in Foggy Bottom on the urban campus of George Washington University. I’d go out for runs after work and drop five pounds in sweat.

One Sunday I decided to jump on my ten-speed Raleigh and go exploring. I rode to a bank in Capitol Hill to use an ATM. (Yes, it was THAT long ago. ATMs were a new thing and ten-speeds was the most you could get on a bike.)

After my errand I reversed course and rode over to the C&O Canal. I rode out the canal about 20 or 25 miles. I had brought with me one 12-ounce water bottle because that’s all I ever used when I rode in Providence. By the time I had doubled back 10 miles to Great Falls Park I was wobbling all over the place.

I stopped and bought a (glass!) bottle of Coke at a refreshment stand. Drank it. Then I refilled it over and over and over again with water from a fountain.

Feeling a little better, I jumped on my bike and headed back to GW, a distance of about 16 miles. I honestly did not know if I would make it, but I did. Before going into my dorm, I bought three bottles of ice-cold Gatorade

In my room, I chugged the Gatorade, took a shower, then collapsed on my bed. For 16 hours.

The next day I went to work. I had to do some things at the old Interstate Commerce Commission on Constitution Avenue. In lieu of air conditioning, the ICC used huge fans. After about an hour I became nauseous. I found a pay phone (lord, this was a long time ago) and called the office to tell them I was going home.

Back at the dorm I drank all that I could and fell asleep again for another 12 hours.

In 2007 the 50- States Ride in DC was held in August. It was sweltering. I fell in with three people two of whom looked like they were at death’s door when we arrived in Rock Creek Park at about the 50-mile mark. One of our group decided she had “things to do” and took off. After my experience with heat exhaustion, there was no way I was going to leave the other two alone. One of them dropped out about three miles later as he neared his apartment. The other made it to the finish. As it turns out she was okay with the heat, but her back was killing her.

Reverse Winter

It’s because of these experiences, that I refer to summer in DC as reverse winter. When winter flexes its muscles in the north, you crank the heat up and hunker down with a book and some hot tea, In summer in DC, you crank the AC up and hunker down with a good book and some iced tea.

As I type this, it is 99 degrees here in DC. The heat index is 111. I rode 33 miles in the relative cool this morning. (It was well over 80 degrees when I left the house.) I ain’t going out there. No way. No how. Time to hunker down.