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.

OCS

This weekend’s jaunt took me to Quantico Marine Base, where I hoped to visit the base airfield and the Marine Corps Officer Candidate School (OCS).  As with any trip to the eastern part of the county, this required a successful navigation of heavily trafficked roads.  The springlike weather made the trip very pleasant and may even have had a positive effect on the drivers, some of whom actually stopped to allow me to cross some congested areas.  I didn’t have any close calls with automobiles, which is always a welcome event.

After reaching the base, I made my way to the river and the airfield which sits alongside side it.  There were some great views at this point, but sadly photography of the airfield is prohibited.  Not wanting to spend the rest of my day in the brig, I kept my camera stowed and continued on to the OCS facility, about a mile further down the road.

I found the school to be vacant, probably because there is no class in session at the moment or possibly because the candidates are in the field at the moment.  The first thing I came across was a large “parade deck,” which the candidates no doubt spend many exciting hours on.  As an Army man, I was amused that the Marines would pave over a perfectly good parade field just so they could call it a “deck.”

These were the only occupants in evidence near the barracks.  They were not cooperative subjects and had an annoying tendency to turn their backs whenever I closed to take a picture.

On the opposite side of the barracks was an impressive obstacle course.  When the candidates are not drilling on the parade deck, they are no doubt amusing themselves on this.  Pictured is only a portion of the course, which runs for over a mile.  Good times.

As I left the school, I took the below picture.  I always feel compelled to take a photograph when I cross railroad tracks.  I guess I’m a sucker for the “disappearing into the horizon” image they provide.

My trip home was uneventful.  The entire route was only 27 miles and was happily devoid of the drama which I endured during last weekend’s ride.  I returned home with plenty of fluid and I had increased peace of mind brought about by this handsome addition to the contents of my saddle bag.  I suspect it will be many months before I need my emergency stash of money, so it is folded neatly inside a ziplock bag to protect it from the elements.

2012′s Color Is White

I am excited to present a change to the Trek which will fundamentally alter its handling and performance.  It’s an important new piece of gear that I have placed a great deal of thought into.  Like most cycling equipment, this gear will wear out and I hope to come up with a new version each year.  With a little luck, this announcement will become an annual event eagerly awaited by you, Dear Reader.

I have changed the color of my handlebar tape.

Ta Da!

I thought it would be fun to change the tape color each year, if for no other reason than it will be easier for me to identify when a given picture was taken.  This is not a decision to be taken lightly.  The color of a bike’s handlebar tape says a great deal about its rider.  For example, the original color of black says, “I just want to blend in with everyone else using the stock tape that came with my bike when I bought it.”

The color white looks snappy (to me, at least) but it runs the risk of giving the impression that I am a “poseur.” Poseur is a French word for “poser,” which is an English word for someone who takes on the mannerisms and fashion of serious cyclists without actually having the ability to ride like a serious cyclist.  This is a very serious allegation in the cycling community and I will need to be mindful of this issue as I come into contact with other cyclists – an event which occurs about once per every 500 miles cycled.

I took the tape (along with the rest of the bike) on its maiden voyage yesterday.  Winter remains pleasantly mild, but much of the weekend was shot due to rain and personal errands.  With a few hours of sunlight remaining on Sunday, I shoved off for Quantico Marine Corps Base’s “downrange” reservation.  This is the part of the base west of Route 1 where field training occurs.  I had never ridden these roads and was alerted to their existence by Roger, when we met for a pedal last Fall.

Before reaching these new roads, I had to fight my way through the hazards of Dumfries.  I managed this with nothing untoward other than the elevated frustration levels which are normal for me in that place.  I stopped by one of Quantico MCB’s gates to take a picture of a replica of the Iwo Jima Memorial.  This one is considerably smaller than the original monument, which stands next to Arlington National Cemetery.  For those interested in a detailed account of this battle, I highly recommend Clint Eastwood’s Flags Of Our Fathers and Letters From Iwo Jima.

After enduring the swarms of traffic along Route 1, the back roads of Quantico were very refreshing.  The roads were quite hilly.  The first 3.5 miles were at a steady 7-8% grade.  This gave way to a series of rollers which had grades of 7-10%.  I think I’ve found a good place for some mountain training, which I’ll need for the Civil War Century this September and its 7,400 feet of climbing.  Sunday’s 30-mile circuit was 1,600 feet, meaning I’ll need to climb at approximately 1.5 times this rate for the CWC.  That is a humbling prospect.

Historical Marker Segment!

It’s been awhile since I have been able to bring you one of these.  This marker is close to the Iwo Jima Memorial outside of Quantico MCB’s gate.  Although I often drive by this spot, I’ve never noticed it before.  In it, we learn the ancient and glorious history of Quantico.  The nearby town of Dumfries used to be one of the largest and most important ports in America, due primarily to the huge tobacco crop which was exported from there.   This fact is remarkable to contemplate as the creek is no longer navigable and there is no remnant of the port facility that once existed.

Chancellorsville

I got ambitious yesterday.  Aided by my wife, who transported me and my bike 30 miles to Fredericksburg, I headed out to the Chancellorsville Battlefield for a look-see and then a 55-mile return trip, the first 20 miles I had never traversed before.  I had been wanting to do this trip for several months and finally had the opportunity to give it a shot.  Although there was frost on the ground at sunrise, the forecast was for sunny weather and temperatures reaching the mid-50s.  It seemed like a good day for the attempt.

We pulled into the Spotsylvania Mall and my wife said her goodbyes, immediately after which I noticed I had forgotten my cell phone.  I always ride with my cell phone – always.  It’s my security blanket which lets me cycle with the certain knowledge that if I get into difficulty I can call my wife and hear, “You got yourself into this mess.  Now get yourself out of it.”  Now I was about to strike out into The Great Unknown (aka Spotsylvania County) with no communications device.  I believe Thomas Stevens would have been proud of me.

Obligatory Battle Map

A quick note on the battle.  Chancellorsville was fought May 2nd and 3rd, 1863, between Confederate General Robert E. Lee and the unfortunately named Union General Joseph Hooker (although the etymology of the modern-day use of “hooker” is unclear, many experts trace its use to the camp followers of Hooker’s Army of the Potomac).  With both armies staring at each other across the Rappahannock River near Fredericksburg, Hooker moved a large force westward, forded the river and sought to attack Lee from the West.  Lee recognized the Federal move and broke off a portion of his army to meet the threat.  The armies collided at the Chancellor Family home, located at a crossroads about fifteen miles west of Fredericksburg.  The result was Lee’s greatest victory.

I cleared out of the retail district and made my way to the battlefield on River Road, which existed during the Civil War.  This is the lesser of two roads heading toward Chancellorsville from Fredericksburg and no doubt some Confederates used it as they moved to the battlefield.  Given the road’s name, I was disappointed to glimpse only one short view of the Rappahannock River.  After ten miles, I reached the intersection of Route 3 and Elys Ford Road – the epicenter of the battle.  It was here that the Union Army collapsed upon itself after Robert E. Lee divided his smaller force (a MAJOR tactical faux pas born of necessity) and executed a surprise attack on two fronts.  17,500 men were killed on and around this field – a rate of one man per second for five hours.

The Chancellor House was destroyed during the battle under a withering Confederate artillery bombardment.  Hooker used the building as his command post and was leaning against a column when it was struck by a shell, causing a possible concussion which made it impossible for him to direct the battle for a period.  Today, all that is left is the foundation, which is preserved near the artillery pieces pictured above.

I puttered about the periphery of the battlefield but didn’t see any other monuments worthy of note.  I therefore decided to head to the park’s Visitor Center, where I came across one of the war’s most important sites – the place where Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson was accidentally killed by his own pickets.  This was a stunning loss for the Confederacy which would have implications for the rest of the war.  Upon learning of Jackson’s death, Lee said, “I have lost my right arm.”  The trail is faithfully maintained and is remarkably close to the very busy Route 3.  There is a stone marker at the site, erected in 1881 by Confederate veterans.

I could have wandered some more, but I had quite a distance to go so I made my way back to Elys Ford Road and moved Northwest.  Just as was the case in the Civil War, there are few crossings of the Rappahannock River and I needed to travel 20 miles to Kelly’s Ford.  The road was pleasant, with a very picturesque view of Hunting Run Reservoir.  Oddly, the road name changed from Elys Road to Eleys Road when I crossed from Spotsvylania County to Culpeper County. There is a story there, I am sure of it, but I can’t imagine what it might be.  The air was crisp, but not cold and the leaves were in peak color.  I had nary a care in the world as I pedaled over gently rolling country.  This changed when I reached my first turn at Mile 25 – Fields Mill Road.

It was a gravel road.

I hate gravel roads.  After suffering eleven flats last summer/fall, I remain extremely risk averse when it comes to punctures.  I haven’t had a flat since February – I was due.  And I had no phone with me.  And I was nowhere near anyplace I had ever been before.  And there were no significant buildings to speak of, apart from a light sprinkling of farms.  With little choice, I decided to take it easy on this three-mile stretch of wilderness that would eventually deposit me near Kelly’s Ford and asphalt.

About a mile down the road, I began to hear gunfire.  I wondered if it was hunting season.  Whether it was officially hunting season or not, it was definitely hunting season here.  I was very grateful to be wearing my optic yellow vest.  I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be killed.  That assessment changed when the dogs came.

Let me just say it is extraordinarily difficult to cautiously manuever a gravel road while being chased by three dogs.  The first thing I abandoned was caution.  Since I am typing these words, I realize there is little drama to the outcome – I made it.  About a half mile up the road, I was rewarded with a pleasant view.  I leaned my bike against a sign which read “Warning – Coyote Trapping In Progress” and took the below picture.  I could still hear gunfire coming from the woods behind the farm houses.

I was very happy to reach the end of Fields Mill Road and rejoin Western Civilization.  I crossed Kelly’s Ford (Mile 30) and left Culpeper County for Fauquier County.  I had cycled this road once before during last October’s Great Pumpkin Ride.  I celebrated by pausing on the bridge to enjoy the view and eat a Clif Bar.

The remaining miles were uneventful.  I must say that the country roads of Fauquier County are in better condition than those of Spotsylvania or Culpeper Counties (even the paved ones).  At Mile 48 I pulled into one of my favorite rest stops, the Handymart convenience store near the west end of Quantico Marine Corps Base, and ordered a slice of pizza and a Mountain Dew.

Despite their French name, they worked well

Having refueled on quality convenience store cuisine, I had more than enough energy for the remaining twenty miles.  The sun was getting low in the sky, but I remained warm in my vest, skull cap, leggings, and brand new Garneau shoe covers (which worked MUCH better than the ones I wore last year).  I arrived home after 68 miles tired but pleased to have completed the sort of adventure that makes cycling eminently more enjoyable than any other form of exercise I can think of.

Quantico and Possum Point

Labor Day is the unofficial end of summer and it seemed inappropriate not to make the most of the holiday.  So when the forecasted rain from Tropical Storm Lee held off, I took advantage with a ride around Prince William Forest, through Quantico Marine Base and over to Possum Point.  I haven’t cycled around the forest since May and I haven’t been to Possum Point since February, so it was definitely time for another visit.  With temps in the mid-80s, it didn’t feel as if Summer was losing its grip just yet.

Drama has been following me as of late (hurricanes, earthquakes, torrential thunder storms, angry motorists) and today was no exception.  10 miles into my ride I passed a terrible auto accident.  A car had somehow managed fly about 100 feet into the forest and landed upside down.  It was extremely bad and I can’t imagine how anybody in that vehicle survived.  There were several cars stopped on this rural road, at least two of which had signs of damage.  I asked the Park Ranger on site if there was anything I could do to help and he told me that everything was in hand.  As I continued onward, I counted four fire trucks, two ambulances, four motorcycle police, one fire chief truck and one police cruiser on their way to the scene.  Here’s hoping I’m wrong and everybody made it out of there.

UPDATE:  Local reports are that the driver of the vehicle died on the scene.  The passenger is in the hospital with non life-threatening injuries.

I am happy to report the rest of the ride had no brushes with death.  I made it to Quantico Marine Base and pedaled up the hill on Purvis Road, noting with satisfaction that the hill seemed far less of a challenge than in months past.  I eventually made it to the Potomac River and puttered about some of the side streets.  I came across a mighty oak tree in a picnic area near Marine Corps University, which I provide below for your viewing pleasure.

After taking in some fluids and some energy chews, I headed back off the base and made my way to Possum Point Drive, which features a nice ride along a large estuary to the Potomac, then a one mile climb along the river bank.  I took a break at the top and took in the view pictured below.  Not one minute after I put away my camera, a buck bolted from the brush right next to me (in the bottom right corner of the picture).  He had been hiding there and grew tired of waiting for me to leave.  He leapt across the road in two bounds.  Deer are amazing creatures and it was great to see one so close.

I completed my circuit in good form and ahead of the approaching rain.  My calf injury (i.e., no jogging) and early returns from work last week have allowed for some nice pedals – eight rides in eleven days for a total of 150 miles.  That’s a good rate for me, one that I doubt I’ll reach again until late October after the Army 10-miler is run.

A Pleasant Summer’s Ride

There’s nothing terribly exciting to report today, I’m afraid.  I went on a pleasant 41-mile ride under blue skies, light wind, and warm (but not oppressive) summer temperatures.  As difficult cycling is in January, today was enjoyable.  I traveled westward on Aden Road, past the outer portion of Quantico Marine Base, and made my way to Nokesville with a slight detour to travel down Carriage Ford Road, one of my favorite stretches of road in the area.

Horses along Carriage Ford Road

Pit Stop

When I pulled into Nokesville, I did have a touch of drama when I noticed the shoppette where I was hoping to buy some Gatorade at wasn’t open yet.  After a moment’s frustration, I recalled there was a 7-11 around the corner.  Despite the fact the franchise name is based on its original hours of operation, I knew they were now open 24×7.  This store was especially nice.  When I came up a few pennies short, the cashier graciously told me I could keep my purchase if I promised to come back again.  He was serious about keeping my Gatorade but joking about the requirement to revisit.  All the same, the Nokesville 7-11 is now my preferred stopping point in Nokesville.

Having refueled, I struck out west toward Bristow on a road which took me to an Iron Bridge which I always enjoy.  It’s one lane wide and covered with wooden planks – an interesting throw-back in this part of the world.

Iron Bridge

The rest of my trip was uneventful.  Because I took a break and I wasn’t trying to set any speed records, I had plenty of energy for the hills on Bristow Road.  Hills are increasingly on my mind as I expect to see plenty of them on my August and September century rides.

Quantico National Cemetery

This is Memorial Day Weekend, so I wanted to pay my respects to the service members who died while in military service.  I therefore chose Quantico National Cemetery for my destination.  It’s about 15 miles away on the far side of Prince William Forest.  My route took me over the relatively quiet but poorly maintained Joplin Road.  I did this ride last year, but I took the shorter route up Rte 1 and through Dumfries.  I was still getting back into cycling then and the 11 mile route was all I could handle.  Armed with a proper road bike and much greater endurance, I chose the longer route and accepted the 30-mile round trip would be shorter than I would have liked.

Before I left, I did my usual inspection of my bike (remember, kids, pre-ride inspections are important!) and was dismayed to see my bike wheel rubbing against my brake pad.  After only 35 miles since leaving the shop, the wheel was out of true.  One of the spokes was so loose I could turn it with my fingers.  I broke out my spoke wrench and made the correction.  Impressed with myself, I embarked on the ride.  Subsequent events would prove I am not as smart as I would like to think I am.

An older section, with WWII and Korean War vets

I dodged the pot holes and cracking asphalt on Joplin Road and made it to the cemetery at a leisurely pace of about 15 mph.  Once through the main gate, I pedaled up a road lined with flags and past the Visitors’ Center, where people gather for the start of funerals.  Although tomorrow is the official day of remembrance, there were several people paying their respects.  I was dismayed to see a “No Bicycling” sign near the entrance.   I took the sign to mean “no recreational bicycling” and was prepared to inform any persons questioning my activity that I was there for the express purpose of paying my respects.  As it turned out, no one confronted me and I was left alone with my thoughts.

This section was almost empty last year

Although located immediately next to Quantico Marine Base, the cemetery is available for the use of all branches of the military.  As one might expect, the majority of the markers were USMC, but there were plenty of Army, Navy, and Air Force markers as well.  The cemetery is very nicely laid out, with pavilions and benches for those wishing to rest a spell.  There are several monuments, mostly to famous Marine units.

I pedaled to the far end of the cemetery and dismounted for a break.  It was here that I checked my rear wheel and saw that it was once again rubbing slightly against the brake pad.  If I was smart, I would have predicted my first-ever spoke adjustment would be less than perfect and I would have brought my spoke wrench with me.  Sadly, my spoke wrench remained in my tool box in the garage.  I would therefore be forced to put forth a little more effort on the way back.

And that is precisely what I did, retracing my route on Joplin Road and making it home at a rather pedestrian pace of 13.8 mph (including stops at the cemetery).  I’ve since tinkered with my wheel and it once again looks good.  We’ll see how long that holds up.

I enjoyed today’s trip and used the 2+ hours to reflect on the sacrifices of so many people – some of them my friends.  I wish I had some proper tribute to offer them, but somehow the words fail me.  Wherever you’re at, I hope you are able to take a moment this weekend and remember those who made the ultimate sacrifice for your country.

A pic from last year's ride - one of my favorites

Quantico

Spring is coming slowly to Northern Virginia.   With temps once again struggling to get above 60 degrees, I opted for a familiar route around Prince William Forest and onto Quantico Marine Corps Base.  I hoped to check in on the marina at the town of Quantico.

Quantico Town's Main Street, looking East

“Quantico Town” is in an odd location.  It is surrounded on three sides by Quantico Marine Corps Base (abbreviated MCB Quantico) and the town’s fourth side is the Potomac River.  So unless you have a boat, you need to pass through the base to get to the town.  Only a few hundred people live in Quantico Town and as you may suspect they tend to be associated with the base or providing the kinds of services Marines would like, such as barber shops, banks, pizzerias, sandwich shops, and dry cleaners.  I pedaled on one of the two side streets and quickly made it to the marina, which was closed.

Bummer.

Still, there is a small park near the marina, where I stopped to eat a Clif Bar and drink some water.  I took the below picture and was surprised to see when I got home that my lens was foggy from sitting in my jersey pocket.  That’s the first time that has ever happened. 

The view from the park, looking South through a foggy lens

One of Quantico MCB's first buildings, right next to the railroad tracks

Quantico is Algonquin for “Place by the large stream,” which is appropriate as Quantico Creek is a good-sized waterway.  The town was originally owned by the Quantico Company and the area was used as an excursion destination for Washingtonians with boats.  In 1917, the Marines bought much of the city land from the company and founded Quantico MCB.  The rest, as they say, is history.

My route home brought me to my nemesis, Van Buren Drive, which I scaled in fine form.  I took the entire climb out of the saddle, which is a first for me.  Looks like my arctic training is paying off.  The rest of the ride was uneventful, although there were a large number of car accidents and near-misses along my journey.  I wasn’t involved in any of them, but there must have been something in the air today as I saw one accident and two near-misses.

Historical Marker Segment!

Today, I hit the mother lode - FOUR markers side by side!  It’s almost impossible to read even one of these markers as you sail by in a car.  Why the historical societies of Prince William County and Virginia decided on placing four markers on Route 1, just north of Dumfries, is inexplicable.  I will probably be the only person to actually read these signs for many weeks, so it is the least I can do to share them with you here.

Four signs in one spot - a new record. You can see Rte 1 on the left.

Here, in one spot, we learn that all sorts of Revolutionary War heroes traipsed up and down this road in 1781, that Jeb Stuart passed through here on one of his many Civil War raids, and that Dumfries actually used to be a significant town (which is difficult to believe today).  Finally, we are told that we owe everything to a Scotsman named Graham, who founded Dumfries in 1749 when sixty acres “were taken from his plantation” to build the city.  That’s an interesting turn of a phrase.  I wonder why his acreage was “taken.”  Sadly, the sign is silent on this point!

Some LSD

I headed out today in some of the best weather of the young year.  I was looking to do some LSD (Long Slow Distance, of course) so I chose to travel a 51 mile course which included Aquia Road on the far eastern edge of Fauquier County.   I had not traveled this road yet and was looking for some adventure and a longer distance to get my mileage up a tick. 

US Bike Route 1 in all its glory

It was great riding in 60 degree sunshine.  Some of the cyclists I passed were wearing shorts.  I stuck with my leggings, but one day soon I believe I will be ready to make the leap and expose some of my legs.  That will be a glorious day, at least for me if not for passersby.  I traveled the 23 miles to Aquia Road without event and spied an interesting sign (pictured at right) which identified the road I was traveling as U.S. Bike Route 1.  This route traverses the entire Eastern Seaboard from Maine to Florida.  I’ve always known that this portion of the county was Route 1, but I’ve never seen anything identifying it as such.  Until now.  Truth be told, it was a rather inauspicious marker.  I can’t imagine how any cyclist could find himself in this part of the state hoping to find Bike Route 1 and not know where it is.  “Oh my, where on Earth is Bike Route 1?  I’m out in the middle of Nowhere, next to the Quantico Marine Corps reservation and I cannot find where I want to go.  Oh wait – there’s a sign.  Thank goodness!”

The road itself is on the edge of encroaching suburbia and provides an interesting juxtaposition of newly-built ”McMansions,” cow pastures, and junk yards.  I toyed with posting a pic of a forest that had been cleared for a subdivision, but decided to share this pic with you instead.  Enjoy.

I’m looking forward to Spring.  Photos for the past three months have featured snow, ice, and/or the color brown.

Oddly enough, when I reached the end of Aquia Road, there were no markers telling me whether to turn left or right on Bristersburg Road to stay on Bike Route 1.  I guess any travelers must once again resort to their map packs to stay on course.  Myself, I knew where I was heading and that was the Handymart on Courthouse Road.  I had stopped there in November during my one and only paceline ride and was hoping to see some of the same cycling activity I saw that day.  Several different groups of cyclists wandered into the store during my brief stop that day.  I was looking forward to some casual conversation during that unique cycling ritual: the Rest Stop. 

The Trek at rest at the Handymart

Sadly, I found the Handymart free of other cyclists.  I purchased a Gatorade and a $1 hot dog (which tasted like it cost $1) and sat alone on a picnic bench outside the store.  After a few minutes, I had finished my meal and shoved off for home.  I returned in fine form but sobered by the prospect that next week’s Vasaloppet ride will be about eight miles longer in colder and rainier weather and I’ll be riding Old Ironsides, not the Trek.  Something tells me my average moving speed will not exceed 16 mph like it did today.

Possum Point

Today is Super Bowl Sunday.  I felt obligated to come up with a football-related theme for today’s ride but I couldn’t think of anything.  I couldn’t even come up with something sports related.  I guess I had “rider’s block.”  Instead, I decided to head for another nook along the Potomac River – Possum Point.

To add some distance, I circumnavigated Prince William Forest Park.  The park’s namesake, Prince William, Duke of Cumberland, was the second son of George II.  He died at the age of 44 from a heart attack brought on by chronic obesity.  I often ruminate on the fate of Prince William as I pedal by the forest which bears his name.  A good lesson from history, I think.

A fitting motto for the day

When I reached Route 1, I stopped by the US Marine Corps Museum.  If you’re ever in the area, I highly recommend you stop by for a visit.  It’s well worth your time.  Since I was spackled with mud and wearing cycling shoes, I eschewed a trip inside and pedaled around the grounds a bit.  There is a sidewalk leading to a chapel with monuments to famous people and units along the way.  Etched in the sidewalk are values of the Marine Corps.  I paused by “Endurance” and took a photo – it seemed appropriate on a day like today. 

Leaving the museum, I headed north through Dumfries to the main event for today’s ride: Possum Point.  This is a small peninsula nestled between Quantico Marine Base and Leesylvania.  The map indicated a three-mile road to the end and another mile-long road to nowhere branching off of it.  This is why I haven’t traveled this way before – once you get there, you have to turn around and brave the crazy traffic on Route 1.  A lot of aggravation for not much roadway.

The road was straight and lightly traveled.    I passed older homes with views of the water.  It was all very nice and the real estate was certainly very expensive.  You can imagine my surprise when I reached the end of the road and saw the Possum Point Power Plant!

This is some awfully nice land to put a power plant.  I can only imagine why this place was chosen.  To give you a sense of how nice an area this could be, this is the view 180 degrees from the same spot where I photo’d the plant.

C’est la vie.  I pushed on the branch road (Cock Pit Point Road), which was deserted and straight – perfect for cycling.  It has a nice hill, which I may take advantage of later this summer when I want to improve my climbing abilities.  There was a wilderness area set aside for eagles to nest.  I didn’t see any nests or eagles, so I pressed on to the end, only to find a power supply company.  Again, an odd location for an industrial site, IMHO.

Having reached the end of the line, I retraced my route to Dumfries, made it across Route 1 and pressed onward toward home.  It was a great day for a ride with just a hint of Spring in the air.  The warm weather can’t come soon enough.  It’s been about 14 weeks since I wore cycling shorts.  That’s good news if you are worried about people knowing you don’t shave your legs, but it’s certainly very bad news if you enjoy cycling in warm temperatures.  And I like warm temperatures very much.

And no, I didn’t see any possums.