No commutes yesterday, but I did take some time in the morning reacquainting my bike with some fenders and those proved useful today in the afternoon wet. In the morning dry (the rain didn't start until later), I didn't wear gloves and regretted that. It's not really spring yet.
I wanted to take a picture of some tree branches and trash and muck floating in the river by the Kennedy Center and caption it "March," but I thought that too dour. Apt, though.
Other than putting fenders on the bike, yesterday I also swapped out the tires. The newer ones are road slicks and they were a bastard to install. The blisters on my thumb still smart. The road tires inspired me to try to catch up to a guy along the Mall who got out two blocks ahead before I managed to reel him almost back before deciding to let slack again and off he went until the light at 14th, where he met up once more. He probably doesn't even know he's a character in a blog post right now. At 14th, at the red light where we all stopped (there was another bike commuter too), I looked up at the new museum, which is nearly all built on the outside. Does the Smithsonian and the National Parks Service have a pedestrian plan in place for when it's done? In related news, LOL. It was a hilarious practical joke to put the monuments and museums between the downtown core and the highway bridges that are meant to take drivers swiftly away from it. Huge oversight by L'Enfant for not recommending a 14th street tunnel.
I don't think there's been a time since I've been consistently riding up Wisco when there hasn't been some kind of construction project in Glover Park. This was both before and after the brief period of TRAFFIC DOOM that occurred when the name of lanes was reduced. Anyway, there are more lanes now, which is great because it gives the construction crews a place to park their big trucks. Doesn't seem to help traffic much, but what can you do?
Ride home was in the rain and the new brake pads (another success of yesterday's effort) managed nicely. They might have managed a bit too nicely. I think one pad might have rubbed against the rim for much of the way home.
Riddle: what kind of bike is faster than a Porsche 911?
Answer: pretty much any kind of bike when the Porsche 911 is stuck in traffic.
But what about when it's not stuck in traffic?
You must be new here.
Mass, 21st, L and 15th. Along L, a woman saw that car traffic was stopped and thought it would be a good time to cross the street, in spite of the fact that the bike lane was clear and I had the green light. It's hard to get too upset about this (or even begrudge it: most of the time it's totally fine) but it would've probably been better for both of us had she looked for bicyclists before venturing out, but she didn't. She did look up as my brakes squealed and we made eye contact from about 3 feet away. I never know what kind of facial expression to have in situations like this. I did commit, a long time ago, not to be the first person to say anything in a situation like this. I think that's a fairly sound principle and one I would wholeheartedly endorse. You don't want to come out with 'Hey, fuck you!' if the first thing they're going to say is "I'm so sorry! I should've looked!" So instead, I stopped and I waited and went for a bemused expression. It's unclear if I made it all the way to bemused. We looked at each other for a second and then she sorta made a facial gesture that indicated chagrin and then I rode past her. It was fine. No point flying off the handle at every little thing. I'm just happy we didn't collide.
Speaking of handles, I'm not convinced that either my handlebars or my seat are at right angles. I think this might be a problem. This was not something I addressed yesterday, but likely should have. I feel a little crooked.
3/10/15
3/7/15
Rides 3/6: mixed bag of mixed nuts
There was a 2 hour delay. This allowed for the clearing of ice and snow from some roads (and some parts of roads), but didn't lead to the clearing of ice from all roads. It's March and we're promised warmer temperatures soon and I think the prevailing attitude towards this snowstorm was 'fuck it. why bother?' We have the snow equivalent of Senioritis. When is graduation again? Parts of my route were somewhat bikeable, other parts, including Pennsylvania Avenue, were very bikeable, being completely cleared, and other parts barely bikeable, but not so unbikeable that I would be dissuaded from trying.
Also complicating this bike commute, though really not by much, was my finding my handlebars no longer square, but instead jilted off to one side. This undoubtedly occurred when I wiped out biking home from the ballyhooed illegal sledding on Capitol Hill extravaganza the day before. I didn't noticed that there was anything wrong with the bike then since I managed to fall down only a block or two from home, but I did notice how off the bars were about 5 minutes into my Friday commute. It's a curious sensation to have your handlebars and wheels not align, but not an altogether unpleasant one. Did I necessarily need the extra degree of difficulty when already trying to cope with the snow and ice? Well, no. Did I get the bars adjusted back to square before getting into work? Yes and thank you Bicycle Pro Shop. I guess I could've done it myself, but bike mechanics have a much more precise view of angles than I do and I'm fairly confident that had I tried to relatively minor adjustment, not only would have I failed at righting my bars, but also would have inadvertently set them aflame. I don't know how that would've happened, but it probably would've happened.
There was a three person contingent at a rump Friday Coffee Club at Swings. With school's closed and workplaces starting at varied schedules and the roads remaining an icy mess, that we even achieved a triad was an achievement. After coffee was the usual trip through FoBo and up to Georgetown by making the terrible choice of riding along the unplowed Rock Creek Trail to M Street to the bike shop and then up the mostly incompletely plowed streets to work. Funnily enough, the parts of the street that had been exposed from underneath the ice from the tire tracks of passing cars and trucks included a the outer stripe of the bike lane and the foot right inside that outer stripe. This meant that I was riding in the bike lane and also riding where drivers most wanted to be.
If you can't take 5 minutes to brush all the snow off your car, you are a bad person. I'm pretty ok asserting this way over-generalized bold and judgy assertion. It's just wildly unacceptable.
Ride home down Massachusetts Avenue and it's not so nice to to see so many potholes in bloom. 21st to Pennsylvania Avenue again and then Pennsylvania Avenue again and then up the House side of the Capitol, where kids sledded for a second day in a row. Luckily these children will be saved from a life of crime by the snow melting and once again the grassy hill in front of the Capitol will return to its natural state, a wasted expanse of nothingness made inhospitable to people from a lack of programming and over-securitization to guard against threats wholly unlikely to manifest.
Some pictures and captions:
Also complicating this bike commute, though really not by much, was my finding my handlebars no longer square, but instead jilted off to one side. This undoubtedly occurred when I wiped out biking home from the ballyhooed illegal sledding on Capitol Hill extravaganza the day before. I didn't noticed that there was anything wrong with the bike then since I managed to fall down only a block or two from home, but I did notice how off the bars were about 5 minutes into my Friday commute. It's a curious sensation to have your handlebars and wheels not align, but not an altogether unpleasant one. Did I necessarily need the extra degree of difficulty when already trying to cope with the snow and ice? Well, no. Did I get the bars adjusted back to square before getting into work? Yes and thank you Bicycle Pro Shop. I guess I could've done it myself, but bike mechanics have a much more precise view of angles than I do and I'm fairly confident that had I tried to relatively minor adjustment, not only would have I failed at righting my bars, but also would have inadvertently set them aflame. I don't know how that would've happened, but it probably would've happened.
There was a three person contingent at a rump Friday Coffee Club at Swings. With school's closed and workplaces starting at varied schedules and the roads remaining an icy mess, that we even achieved a triad was an achievement. After coffee was the usual trip through FoBo and up to Georgetown by making the terrible choice of riding along the unplowed Rock Creek Trail to M Street to the bike shop and then up the mostly incompletely plowed streets to work. Funnily enough, the parts of the street that had been exposed from underneath the ice from the tire tracks of passing cars and trucks included a the outer stripe of the bike lane and the foot right inside that outer stripe. This meant that I was riding in the bike lane and also riding where drivers most wanted to be.
If you can't take 5 minutes to brush all the snow off your car, you are a bad person. I'm pretty ok asserting this way over-generalized bold and judgy assertion. It's just wildly unacceptable.
Ride home down Massachusetts Avenue and it's not so nice to to see so many potholes in bloom. 21st to Pennsylvania Avenue again and then Pennsylvania Avenue again and then up the House side of the Capitol, where kids sledded for a second day in a row. Luckily these children will be saved from a life of crime by the snow melting and once again the grassy hill in front of the Capitol will return to its natural state, a wasted expanse of nothingness made inhospitable to people from a lack of programming and over-securitization to guard against threats wholly unlikely to manifest.
Some pictures and captions:
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| 15th, evening |
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| Ogre, much like India and Yugoslavia, was non-aligned |
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| 15th, morning |
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| Pennsylvania Avenue, morning |
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| Criminals on Capitol Hill |
3/5/15
Rides 3/4: No Rides 3/5
I don't really remember yesterday morning's ride, as it was washed away from my memory by the waves of a few other more memorable events. The first of which was my mostly unfun ride down the Mount Vernon Trail to get to Crystal City. And then, the second was what happened in Crystal City. (Right here in Crystal City? It's a capital T and that rhymes with B and that stands of bicycling. But more on that after this next part)
Anyway, long story short, much of the Mount Vernon Trail was terrible. I think the last time we accumulated any ice was a week ago, but it hasn't been warm enough to melt all of it yet and thanks to the National Parks Service's commitment to CROSS COUNTRY SKIERS, who apparently love to ski on 10 foot ice patches, walk 30 yards, ski on a 4 foot ice patch, watch 40 more yards and ski on a 14 foot ice patch, there was ample hazard. Now, I'm an outdoor recreation enthusiast (I guess) who's part of a pretty niche group who most people think are pretty marginal (winter bike commuters), so I can understand, theoretically at least, wanting to cater to cross country skiers. I guess. But at a certain point, the path is no longer ski-able and refusing to remove the ice then seems downright negligent, lazy, and, frankly, hostile to people who want to bike or run. So, here is my MODEST proposal to NPS, who undoubtedly will read this because NPS reads probably the top 40 most popular local bike blogs and I barely make the cut: when the trail is no longer 50% covered in snow and ice, plow it. See, that's pretty reasonable, right? That way we can pretend that we're throwing XC skiers a bone, but also admitting the reality that there is a far greater number of people who use the trail for non-ski activities than there are who do. This seems both fair and prudent, so naturally, it won't be adopted.
Speaking of prudent... When this question hit my inbox, I sorta dreaded answering it. Because it's kind of a complicated questions and passions tend to run a little bit high about it, especially among wackos. But I think I did a fair enough job. Though feel free to tell me how wrong I am. That's why I do it after all.
On to the second thing, the why of being in Crystal City (aside from the charming ambince and ovious touristic draw): it was to watch bicycling racing! Each Wednesday in the month of March, the Crystal City BID along with Team Crosshairs is putting on an indoor criterium-style (I think that means like DVDs that are all fancy) races in the basement of an parking garage. I didn't race (didn't want to embarrass anyone, namely, myself) but I did spectate and it was really awesome. Some bad pictures:
Anyway, I heartily encourage you to come out and give it a go if you're the kind of person who's into this sort of thing. Maybe, just maybe, by the end of March, I'll be able to delude myself into think that racing would be a good idea. And if you don't want to actually race, definitely come out and support the event because it's good for all of us when communities and organizations see bicycling as a social good with which they want to involve themselves. You can find a lot more about the event and more, better pictures last night by searching for #ccwns.
With ice, dark and fog facing me potentially on the ride on the MVT towards home, I decided instead to take the train back:
It wasn't so bad. And today, there was no work on account of SNOW, so that meant no bike commutes. Tomorrow might mean bike commutes, but we'll see.
Anyway, long story short, much of the Mount Vernon Trail was terrible. I think the last time we accumulated any ice was a week ago, but it hasn't been warm enough to melt all of it yet and thanks to the National Parks Service's commitment to CROSS COUNTRY SKIERS, who apparently love to ski on 10 foot ice patches, walk 30 yards, ski on a 4 foot ice patch, watch 40 more yards and ski on a 14 foot ice patch, there was ample hazard. Now, I'm an outdoor recreation enthusiast (I guess) who's part of a pretty niche group who most people think are pretty marginal (winter bike commuters), so I can understand, theoretically at least, wanting to cater to cross country skiers. I guess. But at a certain point, the path is no longer ski-able and refusing to remove the ice then seems downright negligent, lazy, and, frankly, hostile to people who want to bike or run. So, here is my MODEST proposal to NPS, who undoubtedly will read this because NPS reads probably the top 40 most popular local bike blogs and I barely make the cut: when the trail is no longer 50% covered in snow and ice, plow it. See, that's pretty reasonable, right? That way we can pretend that we're throwing XC skiers a bone, but also admitting the reality that there is a far greater number of people who use the trail for non-ski activities than there are who do. This seems both fair and prudent, so naturally, it won't be adopted.
Speaking of prudent... When this question hit my inbox, I sorta dreaded answering it. Because it's kind of a complicated questions and passions tend to run a little bit high about it, especially among wackos. But I think I did a fair enough job. Though feel free to tell me how wrong I am. That's why I do it after all.
On to the second thing, the why of being in Crystal City (aside from the charming ambince and ovious touristic draw): it was to watch bicycling racing! Each Wednesday in the month of March, the Crystal City BID along with Team Crosshairs is putting on an indoor criterium-style (I think that means like DVDs that are all fancy) races in the basement of an parking garage. I didn't race (didn't want to embarrass anyone, namely, myself) but I did spectate and it was really awesome. Some bad pictures:
Anyway, I heartily encourage you to come out and give it a go if you're the kind of person who's into this sort of thing. Maybe, just maybe, by the end of March, I'll be able to delude myself into think that racing would be a good idea. And if you don't want to actually race, definitely come out and support the event because it's good for all of us when communities and organizations see bicycling as a social good with which they want to involve themselves. You can find a lot more about the event and more, better pictures last night by searching for #ccwns.
With ice, dark and fog facing me potentially on the ride on the MVT towards home, I decided instead to take the train back:
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| sadtrombone.com |
3/3/15
Rides 3/3: rambouillet
What's the fastest way to get to the point? I hope by bicycle. Here goes:
M Street for the first time this winter since before the first snow. It's still not great. And perhaps more frustrating than the ice were the various drivers (mostly of the working sort) who can't seem to stay out of it. I swear, that bike symbol is like catnip and taxi drivers and delivery drivers are like cats. Cats that drive two ton metal death machines. Meow.
Georgetown on M and Georgetown up Wisconsin and I wanted to stop for some kind of savory breakfast treat and yet I didn't, partly from my deficiency in knowledge of where they might serve such things. I guess I could've knocked on doors and politely asked the inhabitants/housekeepers if they had any sausage biscuits, but it's likely that they wouldn't. Southern efficiency we lack.
Squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak. Lube your chain, kids. And never ride a tandem with mouse.
Tunlaw and New Mexico. And work and work all day and then I rode home in what aspired to be a freezing rain, but wasn't. There are lots of worse weathers than freezing rain, but there are even more weathers that are better than it. Some days you don't mind the bike commute, but aren't crazy about the 45 minutes in the rain. But 75 minutes on a bus aren't better. Unless it was George Clinton's tour bus and we were driving Jon Favreau back to Port Chester University. In hindsight, I'm not sure that movie holds up.
L Street was better than M, but not by much. One letter's worth, I suppose. What do we want? Concrete curbs! When do we want them? Soon-ish? WE HAVE THE TECHNOLOGY. But, then again, so did the Ancient Romans and their bike infrastructure was shit. And yet, they didn't have "Hadrian's white line that we're all just gonna hope the Picts don't cross, ok?" Oh well.
I'd like winter to be over. We're likely to get more snow tomorrow night into Thursday morning. I'm going to file a formal protest with the authorities. March is for spring. We surrender.
M Street for the first time this winter since before the first snow. It's still not great. And perhaps more frustrating than the ice were the various drivers (mostly of the working sort) who can't seem to stay out of it. I swear, that bike symbol is like catnip and taxi drivers and delivery drivers are like cats. Cats that drive two ton metal death machines. Meow.
Georgetown on M and Georgetown up Wisconsin and I wanted to stop for some kind of savory breakfast treat and yet I didn't, partly from my deficiency in knowledge of where they might serve such things. I guess I could've knocked on doors and politely asked the inhabitants/housekeepers if they had any sausage biscuits, but it's likely that they wouldn't. Southern efficiency we lack.
Squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak. Lube your chain, kids. And never ride a tandem with mouse.
Tunlaw and New Mexico. And work and work all day and then I rode home in what aspired to be a freezing rain, but wasn't. There are lots of worse weathers than freezing rain, but there are even more weathers that are better than it. Some days you don't mind the bike commute, but aren't crazy about the 45 minutes in the rain. But 75 minutes on a bus aren't better. Unless it was George Clinton's tour bus and we were driving Jon Favreau back to Port Chester University. In hindsight, I'm not sure that movie holds up.
L Street was better than M, but not by much. One letter's worth, I suppose. What do we want? Concrete curbs! When do we want them? Soon-ish? WE HAVE THE TECHNOLOGY. But, then again, so did the Ancient Romans and their bike infrastructure was shit. And yet, they didn't have "Hadrian's white line that we're all just gonna hope the Picts don't cross, ok?" Oh well.
I'd like winter to be over. We're likely to get more snow tomorrow night into Thursday morning. I'm going to file a formal protest with the authorities. March is for spring. We surrender.
3/2/15
Rides 3/2: I bought an eggplant
Late start on account of ice. The iciest part of my commute was walking the bike to the street, which itself, as a result of the rise in temperatures afforded by the delay, was already free of ice entirely. My biggest concern riding in wasn't so much slipping on the street, but finding myself impaled or otherwise laid low by ice flung free from a passing car. Luckily, again, the warmer temperatures later in the day managed to melt whatever ice sheets would have otherwise remained unremoved from car roofs, and I was not impaled or otherwise rendered injured.
[That was a chipper start. "well, I didn't get impaled by a flying ice dagger, so..."]
I really need to stop bothering the Secret Service. In the news again were reports of an intruder (a would-be intruder?) leaping over the lower outer fence in an attempt to maybe leap over the higher inner fence in an attempt to run across the grass to get to a door to get inside the White House. The lower outer fence is called, for "reasons," a bike rack, though it's not a bike rack. I mean, it is. But it isn't. Here's how today's conversation transpired.
Me [pointing to low fence]: it this a bike rack?
Very Patient Secret Service Agent: yeah....
Me: Can I lock my bike to it?
Him [laughs]: no!
What do you call a bike rack that isn't a bike rack? Presidential security! {rimshot}
Anyway, I'm going to stop my tireless crusade (note: actions not tireless, barely a crusade) against trying to get the Secret Service to stop calling these fences bike racks. Apparently, these fences are sometimes called 'bike rack' fences, by the fence manufacturers and I suppose there's a logic to this: nothing is more terrifying to the average American than a bicyclist. Obviously, it's a deliberate counter-measure. Well played, USSS. Well played.
Pennsylvania, M, Wisco, Volta, 35th and eventually over to Tunlaw and New Mexico, whose bike lane was still half-filled with ice and snow. For the reasons it makes sense for drivers to want there to be bike lanes, it makes even more sense to want them to be clear of ice and snow. Because when they're not, I can't ride in them and when I'm not in them, it means that I'm going to be riding over in the travel lane, which generally means that I'm going to be in the space where you'd rather be driving your car. But this attitude doesn't really manifest itself. Oh well.
I was distracted by work thoughts on the ride home (I don't recommend this), so I don't recall much with much detail. There was car traffic on 21st since a part of that street was closed on account of some underground utility work. L Street was fine, as was 15h and so was most of Pennsylvania, except for the part with the police car parked in the cycletrack (there are VIPs in a hotel nearby), but beyond the length of that one police car, the rest of the way was entirely unobstructed.
On the Senate side of the Capitol, there's a gate at the bottom of the driveway and next to that gate are some metal bollards and on good days, a bicyclist can fit between those bollards with no issue. On bad days, there's a pile of snow right around there and it makes the whole matter trickier. The snow melted to more manageable pile so I stopped my bike and spent a few moments kicking that pile of snow in order to disperse it. "TAKE THAT FROSTY. MY DAD'S A MAGICIAN! YOU STOLE HIS HAT!" I said, harnessing my rage. It didn't take much rage. The snow pile was pretty small. I also kept my efforts to a minimum fearing that I would further rupture my relationship with the various armed security officers who guard our nation's most important civic buildings.
East Capitol to the grocery store. I bought an eggplant.
[That was a chipper start. "well, I didn't get impaled by a flying ice dagger, so..."]
I really need to stop bothering the Secret Service. In the news again were reports of an intruder (a would-be intruder?) leaping over the lower outer fence in an attempt to maybe leap over the higher inner fence in an attempt to run across the grass to get to a door to get inside the White House. The lower outer fence is called, for "reasons," a bike rack, though it's not a bike rack. I mean, it is. But it isn't. Here's how today's conversation transpired.
Me [pointing to low fence]: it this a bike rack?
Very Patient Secret Service Agent: yeah....
Me: Can I lock my bike to it?
Him [laughs]: no!
What do you call a bike rack that isn't a bike rack? Presidential security! {rimshot}
Anyway, I'm going to stop my tireless crusade (note: actions not tireless, barely a crusade) against trying to get the Secret Service to stop calling these fences bike racks. Apparently, these fences are sometimes called 'bike rack' fences, by the fence manufacturers and I suppose there's a logic to this: nothing is more terrifying to the average American than a bicyclist. Obviously, it's a deliberate counter-measure. Well played, USSS. Well played.
Pennsylvania, M, Wisco, Volta, 35th and eventually over to Tunlaw and New Mexico, whose bike lane was still half-filled with ice and snow. For the reasons it makes sense for drivers to want there to be bike lanes, it makes even more sense to want them to be clear of ice and snow. Because when they're not, I can't ride in them and when I'm not in them, it means that I'm going to be riding over in the travel lane, which generally means that I'm going to be in the space where you'd rather be driving your car. But this attitude doesn't really manifest itself. Oh well.
I was distracted by work thoughts on the ride home (I don't recommend this), so I don't recall much with much detail. There was car traffic on 21st since a part of that street was closed on account of some underground utility work. L Street was fine, as was 15h and so was most of Pennsylvania, except for the part with the police car parked in the cycletrack (there are VIPs in a hotel nearby), but beyond the length of that one police car, the rest of the way was entirely unobstructed.
On the Senate side of the Capitol, there's a gate at the bottom of the driveway and next to that gate are some metal bollards and on good days, a bicyclist can fit between those bollards with no issue. On bad days, there's a pile of snow right around there and it makes the whole matter trickier. The snow melted to more manageable pile so I stopped my bike and spent a few moments kicking that pile of snow in order to disperse it. "TAKE THAT FROSTY. MY DAD'S A MAGICIAN! YOU STOLE HIS HAT!" I said, harnessing my rage. It didn't take much rage. The snow pile was pretty small. I also kept my efforts to a minimum fearing that I would further rupture my relationship with the various armed security officers who guard our nation's most important civic buildings.
East Capitol to the grocery store. I bought an eggplant.
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