Two Bridges

I had a really good idea yesterday.  I was able to leave work a little early and take advantage of the great weather and go on a long ride.  This would be helpful as I need to get some miles in before this weekend’s 300 km ride with the DC Randonneurs.  I decided to reward you, gentle reader, with a stunning depiction of the bridges of Prince William County.  I mapped out a 60 mile ride that would cover nine different bridges.  It would be epic and you would have been thoroughly entertained.

Let me now explain how this didn’t happen.

My first challenge occurred in my garage.  When putting on my shoes I noticed one of my straps had broken.  Once again, duct tape saved the day.  I now must decide whether to ride this weekend with these shoes or get new ones.  Riding that long on new shoes seems to be a horrible idea, so I’ll just stick with my current pair and ease into a new set later this summer.

After fixing my shoes I shoved off into the maelstrom of rush hour traffic.  Minnieville Road was a madhouse and I opted to move to the sidewalk.  This meant riding much slower and waiting at crosswalks.  I quickly fell behind schedule and this was made only worse when I stopped at the Glascow family cemetery, one of those small plots of land that dot the landscape and remind me of how rural this place once was.  Only 100 feet off a major artery lies evidence of a family that was once one of the leading families of the area.  Usually, these family names live on in local streets or towns but I cannot think of a single thing named after the Glascows.

Having spent a few minutes stomping about the cemetery, I was now officially way behind schedule.  I continued up Minnieville road, pausing at many traffic lights, and eventually made my way into the town of Occoquan and my first bridge – the mighty span over the Occoquan River.

My apologies for the tacky “For Sale” sign.  Hopefully, the nearby bird life offsets that.  I drive over this bridge every day on my way to work.  Tens of thousands of car travel it each day.  On this day, there was also at least one bicycle.  Here is a view of Occoquan from the bridge.  You can see some new townhouses are under construction near the river bank.

My next bridge was upstream in the direction you are looking in the above photo.  I made my way on the much nicer pathway on Rte 123 until I came upon Hampton Road, named after Confederate General Wade Hampton who made Occoquan his headquarters during the Civil War.  There is no shoulder on this road and traffic was moderate.  I then turned onto Henderson Road (named after some guy called “Henderson,” I suspect) where again there was no shoulder and traffic was very heavy.

It’s not much fun cycling in heavy traffic on a narrow two lane road.  Everyone seemed to be cooperating, however, and there were no unpleasant comments hurled my way.  Still, it’s quite stressful, especially at the intersection of Henderson and Yates Ford roads where I was obliged to inched my bike up a 15% grade to match the snail’s pace of traffic.  It was too fast to walk it (especially in my shoes) and too slow to stay clipped in.  Good times.

Having made it onto Yates Ford road, I rode downhill toward the road’s namesake.  Yates Ford is one of a precious few crossing points of the Occoquan River/Bull Run  system and at rush hour the crush of traffic is impressive.  The road is downhill, windy, with no shoulders.  Even though I was zipping along at 25-30 mph, I could almost feel the weight of a line of cars well over a mile in length behind me.  It was a little nerve-racking.  I eventually reached the Bull Marina and pulled in to take this pic of the bridge over the ford.

A high school girls crew team was readying their boats for the afternoon practice session.  I thought it would be poor form for a middle-aged man to be seen taking pictures of random high school girls, so I will leave the scene to your imagination.

I chewed on some shot blocks and pondered my situation:  It had taken me two hours to travel 20 miles.  It was looking like my 60 mile ride would take me about 5-6 hours, much of it in heavy traffic.  Suddenly, the seven remaining bridges seemed less enticing.  I decided to stop my project and simply head home via Rte 234.  That route would give me about 40 miles and that would be “good enough” on this day.

I pedaled up a short but steep hill to get back to Yates Ford Road, where I waited ten minutes for a break in traffic to get going again (and I am not making that up).  The way home was uneventful, except for the lone expletive that was thrown my way at Signal Hill.  Ironically, this was on a very open stretch of road with an ample shoulder and two lanes of traffic each way.  I’ve been thinking about mapping each insult inflicted upon me to see if any sort of pattern emerges.  So far, it seems pretty random with no correlation between road type or traffic density.  The only connection I’ve seen so far is that if there is a pathway nearby, the automobile drivers expect you to use it.

This is my final ride before Saturday’s big day, which I fear I am woefully unprepared for.  I’ll spend the rest of the week tapering (which I am very good at) and getting things ready to go.  I’ll see you on Sunday or possibly early next week.  If you’re following me on Facebook, I’ll be sure to post something there late Saturday or early Sunday.

Historical Marker Segment!

I bagged two more markers, the first being on Minnieville Road at the Glascow Cemetery.  I took a poor quality photo with the sun in the shot because it gives a sense of how close the busy traffic on Minnieville Road is to the cemetery.

The second sign is on the eastern end of Occoquan and I came across it while looking for a good angle to shoot a bridge pic.

Spring Has Sprung

You’ll never guess what I did yesterday.  Go ahead – try.

Nope.

You’re way off.

Wrong again.

Ok, I’ll tell you.  For the first time in 2013, I put ice cubes in my water bottle!

I’m thinking this should be an event I commemorate each year.  It’s worthy of blog reports, music, speeches, and all manner of fanfare.  It really is not possible to overdo the significance of having the temperature reach a point where ice cubes are necessary.  It was wonderful.

(By the way, my apologies to the people of Wyoming, whom are now under about a foot of freshly fallen snow.  Someday, Spring will come your way as well.  I promise.)

I’ve been getting in quite a few local rides as of late and hopefully will get enough miles into my legs to make my upcoming 300K ride at least possible for me, if not comfortable.  The trees are beginning to blossom and I noted with interest that DC’s famous cherry blossom trees are now in full bloom, three weeks later than last year.

I passed by some trees on my way to Neabsco Creek last night.  I’m not sure if they are precisely the same species as the famous ones in DC, but they’re close enough in my opinion to warrant a photo.  Imagine trees like this surrounded by thousands of people and you have the annual DC Cherry Blossom Festival.  I think this was nicer.

Monday night’s ride was my first of the year in summer kit (shorts, half-fingered gloves, etc…).  It was fantastic and it is always a pleasant sensation to see how much faster I can go in decent weather.  My 18.4mph pace was by far the fastest of the year.  Tuesday night’s ride was much slower due to the need to stop and take photos for your viewing pleasure (and for my recovery as well).

After the cherry trees, I made my way to a couple of marinas at the mouth of Neabsco Creek.  The marinas were largely deserted at the late hour and I hoped the setting sun would make for some nice pictures.  I shall let others be the judge of that.

My first stop was at the Pilot House boat shop which also serves as a business which sells used boats.  You can see Neabsco Creek in the background.

And here is a view of the marina from the deck of the Pilot House.

A few hundred yards up the road I found an inviting plank and pedaled to the end of it.  I was perilously close to the edge of the deck as I took this photo and briefly wondered what I would look like if I accidentally backed off the edge of it in my cycling kit.  Comical, I suspect.

The view looking east.  You can see the Virginia Railway Express bridge in the distance.

On my way home, I rode next to the creek, looking for signs of wildlife.  Although I could hear all manner of creatures, a photographic moment didn’t present itself to me.  I took this picture of the wetlands instead.  It’s hard to believe this is less than two miles from the heavily trafficked Route 1 and I-95.

Historical Marker Segment!

You gotta stay on your toes in the historical marker business.  The people who put these signs up are never done with their work.  You think you’ve covered a stretch of road and have seen all there is to see, only to discover that a new sign has been erected.  Such is the case here, where a new sign now stands at the entrance to a series of walking trails at Julie Metz Park.  Travelers can now learn the story of the Lee family (including Light Horse Harry Lee, father of Robert E. Lee) and the plantation they built in this area in the in the 1700s.

49 Miles

My birthday came this week.  Cycling tradition dictates that I am to ride my age in miles on my birthday.  Unfortunately, I had to work that day and there are other traditions such as the eating of cake that I was compelled to participate in, so the ride did not occur on the exact date.  However, I was able to manage a 49-mile ride on Saturday.

The weather is trying very hard to be Springlike.  It was very sunny and the breeze was mild.  The temperature started in the 40s and struggled to reach 60.  Later in the day, there was a period of about 90 minutes where I could describe it as being “warm.”  But that was later in the day.  On the ride, full cold weather kit was required.

This farm always has plenty of activity.

I fiddled with my seat height for no good reason whatsoever.  I raised it about one centimeter in the hopes that it would somehow help my speed or alleviate the sensation I sometimes get that my legs are too cramped.  Within ten miles I began to feel an uncomfortable ache on the side of my left knee.  Fortunately, it didn’t worsen, but I think I’ll be lowering my seat back down.

As always, the excitement came near Catlett, just a few hundred yards from the Tenerife Incident, an excited Spaniel decided to give chase, mustering the most ferocious bark he could.  He maxed out at 15 mph.  I shall add his information to my dog top speed database.

Other than the seat and the dog, it was a pretty uneventful ride.  Car horns were blowing at higher than normal levels.  TIP TO CAR OWNERS:  you don’t need to tap your horn to let us know you’re behind us.  We can hear you.  We’re not the ones encased in glass and steel with a radio playing.

It being the day before Easter, I thought I would share pictures of some of the churches I happened across.  I hope your holiday is a happy one.

The old Asbury United Methodist Church, near Aden. This building dates from the 1870s.

And the “new” church across the street.

Nokesville Church of the Brethren

Brentsville Presbyterian (now a historical site)

Marine Corps 17.75K Run

The year’s first running event went off without a hitch yesterday.  I am happy to report that I finished the race without mishap and now have exclusive access to register for this October’s Marine Corps Marathon – an event which typically sells out in less than three hours.

Rather than the Garmin GPS snapshot I typically use for ride reports, I have posted the race’s course map so readers may quickly discern the elevation data along with road names and distances.  No thank you’s are necessary.

I have difficulty writing compelling reports about running events, so those of you who are routinely bored by my cycling reports are forewarned – this will be worse.  Running events don’t have nearly as many topics to consider when telling a tale.  Consider the distance – eleven miles may be a fairly lengthy route to run but I routinely gloss over longer distances with a mere sentence or two, or perhaps no mention at all.  Now I am obliged to regale you with each turn and dip of the road.  I am certain you are thrilled at the possibility.

The shorter length is not the only challenge for your humble scribe.  Unlike cycling events, there is very little chatter between participants due to the enormous effort spent on breathing.  There is little in the way of race strategy; there’s no drafting.  There are no breaks for enjoyable meals and the conversations that they frequently generate.  It is difficult to bring a camera or to even admire scenic vistas.  Alas, the run – at least for me – is basically just a lot of running and hoping I don’t get injured.  Although I enjoy the event, I don’t think there is much of interest in me relating to you how I ran as fast as I could and then finished.

Having properly warned you, here goes nothing.

Posting the colors at the start (images taken from the event’s Flikr page)

This race started a mere five miles from my house, which made the drive to the start a pleasant change of pace.  Spring was still frustratingly absent and the temperature at the start was 31 degrees.  This was a relatively small field of runners – only 2,500 due to the narrowness of the course in several points.  Because every finisher gains an automatic entry in the Marine Corps Marathon, it is extremely popular.  Registration sold out in 40 minutes.  After a short opening ceremony featuring the posting of the colors, a prayer, and the national anthem, a starter’s pistol was fired and we were off onto Route 234.

We ran up a gentle rise for 2.5 miles, the men and women of the Prince William County Police Department guarding the intersections en route.  It is at these early points in any run where I quickly do a check of my various maladies and determine if everything is settling in properly: inflamed nerve under toes on right foot, plantar fasciitis on right foot, right ankle, right calf, left calf, and left knee cap all were functioning properly.  Oddly enough, a pain soon developed on the side of my left foot.  That was a new one for me and it mercifully went away by the time we turned into Prince William Forest Park, where we would spend the rest of our race.

Trail running

The first mile inside the park was on a forest trail which consisted mostly of dirt and stones.  I don’t do a lot of trail running so this was a new experience for me.  I can’t say it was particularly eventful other than I understood every step was an opportunity to twist my ankle on the uneven surface.  That didn’t happen to me and I was pleased to be able to catch up with The Diesel who (as usual) scampered ahead of me on the rather large hill leading up to Scenic Drive.

Scenic Drive

Scenic Drive was a pleasant paved road in the middle of the forest.  It should be noted that it was very quiet due to the fact there were absolutely no spectators on the route.  Logistics would not permit anyone besides race volunteers to watch the event from anywhere other than the start and finish lines.  The only motivation came in the form of signs the Marines had placed along the route, with phrases designed to capture the “hardcore” spirit for the Marines such as, “I’ve seen pond water move faster” and “Quite whining.”  I can’t say they were very motivational for me.  Fortunately, I was not relying on placards for my motivation.

After a pleasant three-mile descent to Mile 8, it was time to climb two very nasty hills (see the elevation guide on the map above).  I remember riding these hills a few years ago on my bike.  My thought at the time was that they were quite steep.  My thought on the run was that if they were steep on my bicycle, they’d be hell on foot.  I was right.  My 8:30/mile pace slowed to a mere 10:30/mile at this point.  Then the road leveled off and we once again moved to a very gravelly trail for the final mile.

As is typical for the Marine events, this final mile featured another hill.

A crowded and narrow scene at the finish

In the end, I crossed the finish line with a time of 1:40:35, earning me a respectable if not spectacular 618th place out of 2,500 runners.  I quickly met up with my wife who finished a few seconds ahead of me and we stood in a lengthy line waiting for some water, Gatorade, and food.  We emerged on the far side of this tent and wandered about a post-race party which featured massage tents, some stretching rollers, more energy food stands, and a local radio station playing music.  Eventually we found what we were looking for – the tent that was issuing Finishers’ Coins and a password that allowed for early registration for the marathon.  Having secured these items, we beat a retreat to the buses which took us back to the starting line and our car.

We pulled into our driveway at 11:00 AM, a mere four hours after we left for the event.  This was a huge change from a typical cycling ride which guarantees an entire day of riding and traveling.  It was nice to have some time left in the day to do other things of interest.

As of this writing, I am happy to report no ill effects of the run.  I got through it in better shape than normal and at a pace which equaled runs of similar distance last year, despite far more hills and trails.  I’m off to a good start on the running portion of the season.  Cycling is doing ok, but I need to get some more miles in.  Eventually, I will need to put myself in some water and swim a bit, but that can wait for a while yet!

Paperwork

I learned today that the 2013 edition of Bike DC is cancelled because “[t]he restrictions and road blocks to getting permits from the National Park Service and some DC agencies have made it impracticable to continue this event.”

Well, isn’t that a fine “How do you do?”

This is disappointing as my wife and I were looking forward to the event.  It has a unique combination of moderate distance (about 30 miles) and fantastic scenery that make it a great day out on the bike for both of us.

I can only imagine how difficult it must be to get the necessary permissions to close roads in the nation’s capital.  Still, one wonders how the group was able to do it for the past several years but is no longer able to do so.  It would appear the ever-expanding bureaucracy has overwhelmed this organization’s ability to cope.

This seems to be a growing trend in our area.  In 2011, The Jingle All The Way run organizers mentioned that they had hoped to make the event a traditional 10K run but were forced to shorten it to the unusual distance of 8K due to the challenges of getting approvals from the various organizations which have oversight on such things in the District.

More recently, the finish for next weekend’s Marine Corps 17.75K run mysteriously changed from previous years. Instead of wrapping things up in a very fitting setting in front of the Marine Corps Museum, the route will be lengthened inside Prince William Forest Park and the finish will be at the significantly less interesting venue of Pinegrove Campground.  The only logical explanation (to me at least) is the race was unable to get permission to use local roads needed to get everyone to the Museum, which is a shame.

I wonder if others are experiencing similar challenges in their area?  Rest assured, I shall keep you updated on this issue as events warrant!

Fighting Through Winter Doldrums

It’s been a tough winter.  I know things could always be worse.  I could be trying to cycle in Boston, which just had two feet of snow dumped on it.  I could be Tuckamoredew’s neighbor in Edmonton.  But I happen to live in Virginia, where the occasional pleasant weekend is normal in the winter.  Being here tends to raise your expections for good riding weather just a little bit. Sadly, the nice weekends haven’t come and the pleasant days (such as they are) have happened during the week.

Yesterday was a pleasant day, with highs in the low 50s.  I got off work a little earlier than usual and managed to complete a 26 mile ride to Brentsville.  The first six miles were done in daylight, which is always a pleasant sign for a weeknight. The sun is definitely staying out longer and I am counting the days (22) to March 10th when Daylight Savings Time kicks in once again.

Mixed use path on Rte 234, with the sun setting over Prince William Forest.

I’ve ridden 207 miles this year, about 160 of them at night.  My longest ride has been 27 miles.  I need to step things up a bit.  The DC Randonneurs 200k brevet is now three weeks away.

Sunset over Bristow Road

The forecast for Saturday calls for snow flurries and a high in the mid-30′s.  Same for Sunday.  It gets a little warmer and drier once again during the week.  It looks like its just going to be “one of those winters.”

Once again in the dark, outside Crosby’s Crab Shack.

 

Commuting

It’s rare when I don’t finish a ride at the same place I started.

Every once in a while, I actually use my bike to help with an errand.  Yesterday was one such time as I dropped off my car at a mechanic and used my bike to travel 20 miles to my house.  I dropped off the car after work and headed out into the evening rush hour and a 40 degree day.

Showing up at an auto repair shop with a carbon bike definitely attracts attention.  Emerging from a bathroom in cycling gear will earn you a look or two as well.  Strangers will start conversations with you about when they used to cycle, or marvel at the incredible distance (20 miles!) you are about to embark upon.  With equal amounts of bemusement and fanfare, the clientele and workers sent me on my way.

The ride went well.  The initial three miles were the trickiest and I was grateful to be doing it while the sun was still up.  Traffic was heavy on Godwin Road with no shoulder.  Riding with a backpack full of the day’s office clothes was an interesting sensation and I also realized my ability to look over my shoulder at traffic would be impeded.  The forecasted rain mercifully failed to materialize.

In short order I was across the very busy Nokesville Road and into suburbia.  I was surprised to see a bike lane at this point, which unexpectedly ended at the border between Manassas City and Prince William County.  The lane really wasn’t necessary since traffic was very light.  Four miles later, with the sun completely set, I linked up with the mixed-use path which parallels Rte 234, and made my way home without incident.

I was a little surprised not to see a single cyclist over my entire journey, despite it being rush hour.  Small wonder why Washington DC was just announced as having the worst commute in the nation.  It seems like the suburbs still have a way to go before we begin to embrace cycling as a commuting option.

Night Issues

Like a future home owner inspecting the property he will soon own, Spring stopped by Northern Virginia yesterday to make sure everything is in order.  Temperatures were in the low 60s with a mild breeze.  After enjoying my 75 minute commute home, I set off to enjoy the evening.

It’s always fun to break out the Spring cycling wardrobe.  Fingerless gloves made an appearance for the first time in many weeks.  I was wearing a cycling vest and boldly left my skull-cap at home.  I brought my camera for some more exciting night photography.

An extremely rare self-portrait at night. Unfortunately, extended shutter openings mean a little blurring.

The ride itself was pleasant.  As I rolled over small hills, I passed through different thermal layers.  Cold air was settling into the low ground while the tops of hills remained temperate.  Being warmer at higher altitude is always an odd sensation, even if the “higher altitude” is only 30 or 40 feet.

Anybody can take “shadow pics” during the day. Here is my first-ever nighttime shadow.

As always, the night ride had some excitement to it.  I came upon a jogger who was completely oblivious to my existence due to his iPod.  I eventually got his attention by moving my headlamp back and forth across his path.  Later, I threw my chain when I had to quickly stop for a car zipping up on a crossroad, unaware that someone might want to use the crosswalk he was stopping on.  Finally, my camera battery died due to my own failure to keep it charged.  I still managed a couple of pics.  Night photography is definitely “a work in progress” for me.  Thank you for your patience.

This one is so bad it’s almost good. There’s a fire station somewhere in the background.

Today is supposed to be even warmer than yesterday, at least until some thunderstorms roll in this afternoon.  I expect it to be colder, rainy, and windy by the time I’m ready to roll.  The extended forecast is for Winter to return.  I guess I shouldn’t be too greedy.  One night is better than nothing it all.

Hope Hill Crossing

The squiggly lines near the beginning is Hope Hill Crossing

I like to have a goal for most of my bike rides.  Sometimes the goal focuses on the ride itself, such as a training regimen or a personal best.  Other times I like to see something I have never seen or check up on something I have been away from for awhile.  Such was the case today when I made for the new housing development of Hope Hill Crossing to see if there was a way to travel from the “old portion” (ie., built two years ago) and the “new portion” (ie., built in the past few months).  The new area is so new that the streets do not appear on any maps.  So it was that I set off with the same adventurous spirit (though decidedly less risk) as the explorers who searched for the Northwest Passage.

Hope Hill Crossing is only 1.5 miles from my house so the trip was rather short.  The entire area was a farmer’s field less than five years ago.  The farmer sold the land to a housing developer and the rest is history.  Many of the streets still have no home on them, but the builders are making steady progress.  In no time at all there will be several hundred homes full of people I will get to share the roads with.

After several abortive attempts, I was able to confirm that the passageway does not yet exist.  I took the below picture at the point where the road gives out.  You can see the older part of the development across the field.  Presumably, the road will eventually extend to that portion.

I also noted with interest several hundred Canadians blatantly violating the posted No Trespassing sign.  I took the following picture as evidence and will shortly be turning it over to the police.

The problem with an adventure 1.5 miles from your house is that it doesn’t make for much of a bike ride.  I therefore completed a 28 mile circuit up to Bristow which I have done many times.  I paused to take a picture of Broad Run and watch the water as it flowed eastward to join Cedar Run and form the Occoquan River.

There are several small bridges like this in the area and I have contemplated crossing them all on a single route.  It would be convoluted and lengthy, but it might be a good reason to get on the bike one day.

Ringing In The New Year

New Years Day requires a fair amount of housekeeping for my cycling records.  First, I must turn the blog’s odometer to zero and place the previous year’s number below it.  THEN (as if that wasn’t enough) I must create a new worksheet on the Excel Spreadsheet I use to keep track of each and every ride I conduct.

Whew!

Since it is extremely embarrassing to have a zero next to your annual odometer, I once again felt compelled to rectify the situation by heading out on a New Years Day Ride.  Unlike last year’s balmy 61 degrees, today was a much cooler 39 with cloudy skies and the threat of rain.  It was necessary to turn the lights on and don some reflective materials to make sure the handful of cars on the road could see me.  Fortunately, they all did and I am thus able to render my report.

My objective was a little-known body of water with the appropriate name of Snug Harbour.  Located at the mouth of Quantico Creek outside the town of Dumfries, Snug Harbour was once one of the more bustling ports in Colonial America.  Eventually, the creek silted up and shipping moved to other ports, leaving Dumfries to languish as a small afterthought in American history.

Today, the “harbour” (you can use the British spelling without sounding pretentious because it harkens to a time when it was under the Crown’s domain) is a quiet wildlife refuge, bordered by Marine Corps Base Quantico to the south and some upscale homes on Possum Point to the north.  The ride was pleasant without a single car for several miles.  The below pic was taken looking south toward the military base.  In the distance you can see the Virginia Railway Express line leading to Washington from points south.

At this point, alert readers will be saying, “Steve, what a fantastic photo!  You’ve never brought us such high quality imagery before.  What gives?”  To those readers, I say thank you for noticing.  Everyone else needs to step up their game and pay attention.  This is a group project, after all.

The picture was taken with one of my Christmas presents, a Canon SX-260HS camera, featuring a 20x zoom which blows away my humble (and now deceased) Casio Exilim’s 5x zoom.  Here’s hoping I can keep the new camera operational for quite a while.  I’m still learning the gizmos on it but can already see great potential for improved photography.  You’re welcome.

A couple miles past this bucolic splendor one begins to see an ever-growing collection of pipes and power lines.  These emanate from the Possum Point power plant, operated by Dominion Power Company.  This is a gas and oil powered plant which supplies electricity to much of Northern Virginia, most likely including my house. I took this shot as the plant loomed into view.

Upon reaching the plant, a left turn leads to a difficult but not tortuous climb for a mile.  The resulting view is pleasant and signs indicate this is a nesting area for eagles.  I was eager to use my new-found photography powers to capture one of these birds, but they were all sleeping off the New Year’s Eve parties, or so it would seem.  I settled for this more traditional pic of the Trek as it overlooked the vista.  I apologize for the power lines but you will recall I mentioned a power plant was located in the immediate vicinity.

And with that, it was time to beat a hasty retreat to the house before the forecasted rains came.  As it turned out, there was no need to rush; I am typing this post over five hours after I returned and no rain has fallen yet.  Another success for our local weatherman!

Here’s wishing you and yours a very Happy New Year and hoping you have not yet failed to keep your resolutions.