The Case Of The Rotating Handlebars

Once again, recent events have provided ample evidence indicating that I am an idiot.  I have conducted an investigation into my oddly-positioned handlebars and have come to the conclusion that a simple inspection would have solved the problem.

I mentioned after my inaugural ride on the Madone that my brake hoods felt like they were too far forward.  Gerry pointed out that the picture I posted indicated the brake hoods were in the proper position.  Brian concurred.  I looked at the picture and it certainly seemed to be true, so I left my handlebars alone.

Utterly alone.

So alone, in fact, that I didn’t event bother to check whether or not it was properly secured by the clamp whose job it is to hold the handlebar in place.  I then took the Madone on a 60+ mile Vasaloppet jaunt, all the while frustrated at the location of the brake hoods.  I then wrote a ride review and expressed my frustration, but never – not once – did I actually inspect the handlebars closely.

So imagine my embarrassment when I began to adjust the handlebars Tuesday night and discovered two of the four screws were almost completely out of their socket and a third screw was of questionable tightness.  The entire handlebar was held in place by only one screw which (as is now plainly evident) was not up to the task.  Consequently, the bars rotated forward with my weight when I began riding the bike (which was after I took the picture).  This rotation occurred VERY slowly so as to be imperceptible.  The only evidence was an odd creaking sound, which I had attributed to some small issue in my brake hood.  The sound was actually coming from the clamp each time the bar moved a millimeter or less.

Those four black screws are important

The Vasaloppet pics properly show the rotation that so frustrated me and to which all of you looked upon in horror.  It was a short matter to turn the bars to the proper angle and tighten the screws down.

Insert noob cyclist joke here…

On Thursday, I brought the Madone into work so I could take advantage of a 70-degree day.  I hopped on the W&OD Trail for a 17 mile spin and to see if the bars would stay in place.  Of course, they did.

A caboose near the Herndon Station, which is now a museum.

The Washington and Old Dominion Trail was in its usual form, which is to say it was sprinkled with walkers, joggers, and cyclists making their way over many intersections with rush hour traffic.  I rode 8.5 miles out to Dulles and returned.  There were seven road crossings each way, although the ride was less interrupted as I ventured further westward, away from the congested areas of Reston and Herndon.

I was happy to get a ride in while it was still daylight, but once the clocks move forward next week I won’t be doing this routine very often; it’s too big a hassle to load my bike and ride clothes onto my truck, secure my bike upon arrival at work, then drive 35 miles home in a sweaty state.  Besides, the roads are better in Prince William County.  Take that, uppity Fairfax and Loudon County people!

P.S.  All pictures for this ride were taken with the iPhone camera – a first.

102.2

The “After Work Peloton,” also known as, “The Gaggle of Fellas Who Occasionally Meet For A Pedal After Work,” scheduled their semi-regular ride for today.  We are in the midst of a heat wave right now (a heat wave so oppressive that a visitor from Austin Texas remarked that she preferred the weather back home – where they’ve had triple digit temps for about 45 days) and yesterday I suggested to one of the Peloton members that it might perhaps be a tad too hot to ride.  He put me in my place with a look which – at the same time – communicated shock, dismay, and ridicule.  Clearly, I needed to refer to Velomoniti Rule #5 and HTFU.

With the temperature a mere 102.2 degrees and the humidity at 85%,  three of us met for a 17-mile jaunt on the W&OD Trail.  This ties the turnout record for our peloton which, it must be said, is a rather humble organization.  We expect a 25% increase in membership when Simon The Australian returns with his brand-new Specialized Roubaix, which he was being fitted for this afternoon.

As you might suspect, we pretty much had the trail to ourselves.  There were a handful of cyclists about but not a single jogger or walker.  At least they had enough sense to stay indoors.  Being on a bicycle in this weather does have its advantages as a constant 15-20 mph breeze helps stave off heat injury.

The hero of today’s ride was Simon The Brit, who bravely pedaled with two roadies (and I timidly include myself in that category of rider) with his Specialized Crossroads hybrid.  You can see him below in the yellow jersey, gamely hanging onto Jake’s wheel.

The Peloton (sans Yours Truly)

Well done, Simon.

Clifton

The chain worked.  It skipped a bit, but it worked.  The skipping could be due to wear on the rear cassette or the cheapness of the chain.  Either way, it’s tolerable and I’m good for another 1,800 miles (or so).

I headed north this morning on Minnieville Road, a road which is normally very busy, but at 8:00 AM on a Sunday was lightly traveled.  Only one car beeped at me – I was as far to the right as possible but I was delaying her turn into Lowes DIY store by at least ten seconds.  I turned to look at her and asked her what she wanted me to do.  She stared straight ahead and didn’t respond.

After nine miles, I made it to the Occoquan River and the town which bears its name.  There are very steep banks on either side of the river, which made for a fun descent which was paid for very shortly thereafter with an equally steep ascent.

Crossing the Occoquan

I then traveled ten miles further north on the multi-use path on Ox Road.  The route was generally uphill at a slight grade.  Eventually, I made it on to Chapel Road and enjoyed pedaling by $1 million homes for several miles.  At the end of a long descent (during which I topped out at 44.8 mph), I came upon the horse farm pictured below.  It was a really nice setup and I don’t think the picture does it justice.

Horse Farm near Clifton

A few miles on, I pulled into the town of Clifton.  During the Civil War, this marked the end of the railroad from Washington, DC.  It was a bustling place, as troops, animals, and supplies continually arrived.  There were no residents here, just an encampment to guard the railhead.

After the war, a post office was built and people began to settle in large numbers.  John S. Mosby, a Confederate general who spent a fair portion of his time attempting to destroy the railroad at this location, started a church in the town.  This church was replaced by the one pictured below in 1910.  The house to the right of the church was one of the finest in Virginia when it was built in the 1870s, or so the sign in front of it states.

Today, the town is an out-of-the-way hamlet, striving to trade off its history (and I will thank my European friends for not snickering at the notion of one hundred year old buildings being “historic”) and some upscale restaurants and art stores.

Clifton Baptist Church and the Quigg House

I ate an energy bar on a park bench and drank a great deal of water from my Camelbak.  With the summer heat on, I have once again started taking my Camelbak on longer rides.  I realize this makes me look uncool, but I have weighed this against how I would look passed out on the side of the road from heat injury and have concluded the Camelbak is a preferable fashion choice.

You don't see 'em like this nowadays

After my break, I struck out for home.  Clifton is in some low ground and it was quite a chore climbing up out of it.  The terrain on the north side of the Occoquan is quite rolling and I managed to rack up 1,800 feet of climbing over 40 miles.  That isn’t a huge number, but it’s large enough to tell me that I need to do plenty of hill work in the next two months before I take on centuries with 4,400 and 7,400 feet of climbing.

Historical Marker Segment!

This marker is located on Minnieville Road near Chain Bridge Road and the town of Occoquan.  I have driven past it on my morning commute almost every work day for nine years and haven’t read it once.  It’s hard to read a sign like this when you’re driving 35 mph in rush hour traffic.  Having actually read the thing, I am left with more questions than answers.  How, exactly, does an emancipated slave have the money to buy hundreds of acres of land?  And why did the Chinn Family disappear from the county after six generations?  Sadly, the marker is silent on both these points.

This marker is off Ox Road about half a mile north of the Occoquan River.  I am not surprised to learn of the Workhouse in this location.  Until 2001, there was a prison right across the street.  It wouldn’t surprise me if those were the very buildings which housed the heroines in this marker’s story.

W&OD Trail

I cycled with other people today, which is always an event worth noting.  A couple of coworkers invited me for a spin on the W&OD trail after work today.  I’ve never been on this trail and I’ve heard many good things about it, so I was eager to give it a shot.  With a little planning, I was able to bring my car to work, change at the end of the day, and join my buddies.  We got in  a 16 mile ride amongst some nice scenery, had some pleasant conversation, and I didn’t embarrass myself.  I could ask for nothing more.

The trail is a paved railroad bed, formerly the Washington & Old Dominion Railway.  Established in 1859, the W&OD was originally built to bring coal from the Appalachians to Washington.  The railroad’s heyday was the early 1900s, when it serviced commuters heading to Washington from “distant” towns such as Falls Church  (now part of the DC urban sprawl) and Leesburg (still in a rural setting).  The railroad ceased operations in 1968 and the local power company bought the right of way to install power lines which are still in place.  Eventually, it occurred to folks that the railroad bed would make an excellent hiking/jogging/biking trail, and in 1974 work was begun in sections.  The project was completed in 1988 and is now one of the longest bike paths in the region. 

I didn’t bring a camera with me for fear that my cycling mates would think me daft, but this photo I found online is fairly representative of the stretch I was on.  The surface was excellent and the hills were gradual.  The paths were lined with trees and housing developments.  The two drawbacks were the frequent road intersections which required us to unclip and ensure the route was clear (to be fair, local drivers seem to be very aware of the trail’s existence and were good about stopping to let us pass) and the many people on the trail with us.  On this day, it was very manageable, but I can imagine what it must be like on the weekends.  The number of pedestrians would make it almost impossible to navigate.   Further west, the land becomes more rural and I suspect the congestion problem isn’t as severe there.

After an hour, we pulled back into our office building and called it a day.  It was a great spin with office mates on a beautiful afternoon.  I think I’ll be doing this again.

There But For The Grace Of God Go I

I came upon an accident scene on my way home from work yesterday.  It was on the corner of Ox Road and Burke Lake Road.  There were two fire trucks, a police car, and an ambulance present, all with their lights flashing.  They had temporarily closed Burke Lake Road and I could see a few parked cars and people milling about on the side of the road. 

As I got closer to the intersection, I could see a bike – or what was left of one.  It was a road/touring bike with drop down handle bars.  The front wheel was off and bent at 90 degrees into an L shape.  The front fork was twisted in a very disturbing way.  I didn’t see the rider or notice the vehicle that caused the damage, but it was clearly a significant event.  I hope the rider is ok.

I hate crosswalks where mixed-use paths meet busy roads.  Drivers regularly fly up to the main road, hoping to merge with traffic.  They simply disregard the white stop line and do not look for anyone using the crosswalk.  This is what appears to have happened to this poor soul.  Maybe the cyclist was at fault.  Maybe he/she flew through the crosswalk and cut off a driver who had properly stopped and was accelerating to turn onto Ox Road.  Maybe, but I doubt it.

In other news, I continue to attempt to squeeze some evening rides in and wait for the glorious weekend when I can cycle in warm weather.  The forecast for Saturday is 1.5 to 2 inches of rain.  Sunday should be nicer, with temperatures reaching the upper 60s.  With my first century ride now three weeks away, I need to make some effort to get some miles in.  I want to enjoy the beer party at the end of that ride, not pass by it in an ambulance!

My Half-Baked Theory On The Relative Perils Of Cycling

 

Long work hours and crummy weather have combined to limit my cycling as of late.  This is unacceptable, I know, and I intend to remedy it shortly.  In the meanwhile, let me share with you one of the many half-baked theories that wander about my subconscious and occasionally pop to the surface, sometimes with amusing or catastrophic consequences.

My brushes with SUVs on Sunday’s ride have me wondering about whether the risks to cyclists change depending on the environment they ride in.  If you break the world down into three basic areas – urban, suburban, and rural – I believe there are distinct differences in the risks incurred  by cyclists in each area.  Naturally, I believe the risks in my area, suburbia, are the most significant.  Please let me explain.

Happy urban cyclists in a nice, wide, bike lane and slower-moving cars well to the side.

Urban.  That urban riding can be quite dangerous, there is no doubt.  Lots and lots of cars trying to occupy the same roads as a great many bikes can be problematic.  With so many cars on the road, the chances a given cyclist will encounter an idiot are pretty high.  But cities have a lot going for them, including miles of bicycling infrastructure such as bike lanes/paths and cars that are driving considerably slower than in suburbia or in the country.  There are also many more cyclists on the road, meaning the drivers are more likely to expect and look for cyclists.  These are all pleasant advantages that cyclists in the country and suburbia do not enjoy.

Cycling Utopia. Those cars in the background are paying attention, right?

Rural.  To me, rural cycling is all about waiting for “The Big One,” the accident that will no doubt involve a vehicle traveling at high speeds and will result in a very unhappy situation for the cyclist.  Roads in the country are pleasantly free of large numbers of cars.  Bicycle lanes/paths are rare to nonexistent, but it is much easier for bikes and cars to share the road since the traffic density is significantly less than in cities.  Yippee.  The only thing getting in the way of cycling bliss is the inattentive driver who drifts just a tick too far toward the shoulder, thus creating “The Big One.”  One shudders at the thought.  Incidents like this are very rare, much rarer than the less dramatic confrontations in cities, but it only takes once…

Suburban.  Finally, we come to my neck of the woods: suburbia, or as I like to call it: “The Worst Of Both Worlds.”  In suburbia, we have traffic densities approaching that of urban environments, with cars moving at speeds approaching those found in the country, with almost no cycling infrastructure.  The number of cyclists are significant, but spread out over more land, meaning the densities are very low and drivers are not always expecting to see them. 

Take my neck of the woods, for example.  My home county of Prince William has 400,000 people living in it.  Nearby Loudon County has 300,000 people.  That’s a lot of people, but not as many as Fairfax County to my north with one million souls.  One would expect more cycling structure in the more heavily populated Fairfax County, but you may be surprised to see how much more there is.  Take a look my hand-crafted editing of a google bike map below:

Those green lines are bike lanes and paths.  There are many many more lines in Fairfax and DC than in the outlying counties of Prince William and Loudon Counties.  Combined, the population of these two counties is about 70% of Fairfax, but the amount of trails is only about 10% (based on my scientific calculations after scanning the map for a few seconds).  Cyclists in these counties are left to fend for themselves against huge numbers of cars at speeds over 60 mph and with drivers who are regularly surprised to see them.  Not good.  Not good at all.  I therefore conclude that suburbia is the worst possible place to ride a bicycle.

So that’s my theory.  Thanks for your time.  As always, your comments are welcome.  Please try to be gentle.

Fun With Google Earth

Click to enlarge image

I know people are tired of recaps of 2010 rides, but I was fiddling with Google Earth today and came up with the above image that I simply had to share with you.  I’ve added many of the rides stored on my Garmin Connect website and came up with this depiction of where I went.  Kinda cool.  I managed to get my rides in Prince William, Stafford, Fauquier, and Culpeper Counties and one in Fairfax County.  Not pictured are my rides in DC, the Mount Vernon Trail, and Canberra.

Besides overlaying the route, there are a few other tricks you can do with your GPS data in Google Earth, like moving a little icon along your route or doing a “fly thru” in the same direction that you pedaled a route. 

Anything to get me through the cold days…

The Best Rides In America

A few months ago, I subscribed to Bicycling Magazine.  As part of the subscription deal, I was supposed to receive a booklet titled, “The Best Rides In America.”  After three months, I had assumed I would never receive this “free gift,” so imagine my surprise when it came in the mail yesterday!  I was eager to learn what rides might be near my home and searched for the section on Virginia.

Now imagine my disappointment when I discovered there was no such section.  Nor was there a section for the slightly-far-away Maryland.  It turns out that the editors of Bicycling Magazine do not deem any rides in these states as worthy of inclusion in their 49-page booklet.  If I want to partake in one of their rides, I must travel to southern Pennsylvania or eastern Tennessee.  Sigh.

A clarification is in order at this point:  when I say there are no rides in VA, I am referring to road rides.  The booklet is divided into three sections:  road rides, trail rides, and urban rides.  There are, in fact, trail rides in VA and MD.  There is also an urban ride described for Washington, DC.  This is not much comfort for me in that I am far more interested in quality road rides than the other two categories.  I also quickly discovered that several of the Virginia rides were tucked into the remotest part of the state and could not be visited without a concerted (and highly unlikely) effort on my part.

For what it’s worth, these are the trail and urban rides for VA, MD, and DC:

Mock Holler Loop, Damascus.  The 9.3-mile loop is technical and strenuous:  You gain 1,000 feet over 2.5 miles, then descend Iron Mountain.  NOTE:  this is barely within Virginia in the extreme SW corner of the state, over 500 miles from my house.  It’s not likely I’ll visit there anytime soon!

Panorama Trails, Earlysville.  Hills, forests, singletrack, and panoramic views of the Blue Ridge Mountains.  25 miles of singletrack traversing 850 acres.  This one is about 100 miles away from me.  Seems a bit much to travel just for 25 miles of cycling.

Virginia Creeper Trail, Mount Rogers National Recreation Area, Marion.  The 6-foot-wide cinder trail leads 34 miles to the town of Abingdon.  Stone markers tick off each mile along the trail, which offers views of wildlife, waterfalls, and scarred deep gorges.  There are 47 trestles, some as high as 100 feet.  This is almost as far away as Mock Holler Loop – well over 450 miles.

The Washington, DC, urban ride can be found in Wakefield and Accotink parks, which are connected by a doubletrack gravel path.  Truth be told, this location is actually well outside of DC in Springfield, VA, and can hardly be described as “urban.”

Cedarville State Forest, Brandywine.  Maryland’s entry is a 3,500-acre forest 20 miles southeast of Washington, DC.  The ride consists primarily of flat trails with occasional steep, short hills.  This is actually the closest to my home, although traffic on the Wilson Bridge could make it seem like it is on another continent.

Since I am not a major consumer of trail rides and the nearest road ride is two states away, this book is of little use to me.  I’ll place it on my bookshelf with my growing collection of cycling references on the off chance it will come in handy one day.

A Sobering Story

You talk to anyone who has been cycling for any length of time and he/she will eventually tell you  about “The Crash.”  It seems that almost every cyclist has a story about some epic accident that involves (at a minimum) significant pain and damage to the bike.

After seven months and 1,900 miles, I am still waiting for my event.  It may not come for many years, but just as surely as I knew I would eventually fall over while wearing clipless shoes, I am (pretty) sure I will experience something I will thereafter refer to as “The Crash.”

Today, a 51-year old cyclist (that’s five years older than me) died from injuries sustained in an accident near Mount Vernon (that’s 20 miles from me).  The accident was a fairly common one – the driver turning left did not see the cyclist passing through the intersection (with the right of way) and broadsided him.  You can read a short article about the accident here.

My thoughts are with this man’s family.  I can only hope that when it comes, my crash won’t be anywhere near as traumatic.

EDIT:  I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the recent fatality involving a long-time cyclist in the Potomac Pedalers Club.  He was previewing a club ride last month when he swerved to avoid an animal on a descent.  This resulted in a fall which took his life.  Apart from the terrible loss, this serves as a reminder to me that “The Crash” need not involve automobiles, or even another person.

Touring DC

 

Traveling by bike is really the only way to see the sights in Washington, DC.  The National Mall is two miles long and several hundred yards wide.  Just walking up and down that stretch will wear you out.  If you add on all the side tracks like the Tidal Basin and the FDR/Jefferson Memorials, your family’s happy day of sight seeing will turn into a death march.  

Ready to start, near the Jefferson Memorial

 My wife and son helped me re-validate this point when they accompanied me on a short pedal around the nation’s capital.  The weather was perfect – sunny in the mid 70s with no wind.  We offloaded our bikes in a parking lot near the Jefferson Memorial (tip: avoid parking on the Mall.  Even if you’re lucky enough to find a spot, it’s no place to be screwing around with bikes on a rack) and set out on our journey.  In short order, we visited a garden with a statue of Jefferson, the Jefferson Memorial, and the FDR Memorial, where dismounting is required.  I guess the Park Service frowns upon skateboarders and cyclists reeking havoc amongst the tourists. 

At the Reflecting Pool

 At this point, we picked up the sidewalk next to the Tidal Basin.  It’s a pretty cool place to ride because the view is awesome and there is an element of danger as you duck under cherry trees on a sidewalk with nothing between you and a two foot drop off into the Basin.  We then arrived at the Mall and pedaled around the Washington Monument.  I pointed out to my son that his grandfather ran to the top of this building many years ago with his high school track team.  This seemed to generate more questions than answers!  We then passed the WWII Memorial and continued westward alongside the Reflecting Pool, right next to the spot where Forrest Gump kissed Jenny!!!   

Upon reaching the Lincoln Memorial, we doubled back, skirting the Vietnam Memorial.  After reaching the WWII Memorial for the second time, we headed BACK toward the Lincoln Memorial on the opposite side of the Reflecting Pool.  This gave us the opportunity to see the Korean War Memorial.  At this point, my son’s “fun meter” was officially pegged, so we decided to head back to the truck.  We pedaled down a wide sidewalk next to the Potomac and arrived safe and sound. 

The entire trip was only 5.5 miles and our average speed was a mere 7 mph, which just proves that statistics aren’t the only ingrediants which can make up a great cycling day.  Old Ironsides held up well in its new role as “family bike,” and my wife absolutely loved the fact that DC is quite possibly the flattest city on Earth.  We rode 5.5 miles and climbed only 46 feet.  There’s a lot to be said for that kind of terrain! 

Later in the day, I decided to take the Trek out on  a second ride.  I attempted to keep my heart rate in Zone 3 in order to have a fat-burning workout.  It’s not as easy as one might think.  I’m conditioned to going all-out when exercising.  While this sort of workout has its place, it’s not the best for burning fat.  “Taking it easy” will take some practice, I’m afraid!