Back to Day 18

3 PM

Sitting on the grass on the Mt. Vernon bike trail, just south of DC, heading to Alexandria. I am sitting because I just had a major blowout on my rear tire. It made an awesome sound, like a gunshot. We had a tire blowout on the Burley baby trailer when Katie was about 2 or 3. Dana, Bill and I all froze, thinking it was a gunshot. Katie slept through the whole thing. She definitely inherited her daddy’s sleeping talents.

If we were going to have a blowout, this was the perfect spot. On a trail, no traffic, 35 miles into a 40 mile day. Dana is fixing it. I could probably do it if I had to, but he’s willing, so I’m blogging.

When we looked at the maps this morning, we thought it was maybe 15-20 miles to DC. It ended up being 30, probably because we were on a bike trail, not a road. The Rock Creek Trail is beautiful, but it’s windy and narrow and covered with debris. I think we crossed Rock Creek around 12 times. And sometimes we emerged onto a main road, and we rode through a soccer field parking lot, and we made a few wrong turns. It was technically challenging riding, and the first time on this adventure where I was more comfortable than Dana.

We had been warned about a nasty place on the trail where you have to cross a main road, and since that was written, they built this awesome bridge!

Anyway, after 30 miles we got to the mall in DC, and both of us mutterred “food carts” and we rode another 2 miles along the mall in search of falafel

and ice cream.

The mall was packed with wholesome family units and day camps. The day camp kids tend to be color-coded, and I am proud to say that we didn’t hit the blue ones, the orange ones, the hot pink tutu wearing ones, or the multi-shirted ones running around randomly, just begging to be hit.

We met a father and son, clearly on a bike tour, and asked them where they were going, Turns out they are from Pittsburgh, and had just finished riding from Pittsburgh to DC. They were heading to Union Station to catch a train home. And we both thought, “Damn! We could have planned to ride from Westford to DC. It still would have been cool, it still would have been a huge adventure and accomplishment, and we would be done by now.”

Damn damn damn…

We took some mandatory tourist pictures of the Capitol

and the Washington Monument

and the Arlington Memorial Bridge to Virginia

After we crossed the bridge, we stopped in at Arlington National Cemetery. They had a memorial service for my Uncle Dave there on Monday, but sadly we arrived 2 days late. We didn’t walk to his grave because it was about a mile in, but at least we visited.

Then we found the bike trail to Mt. Vernon, and here we are, changing a tire. Now we have to buy another tire and tube, to be ready for the next blowout.

6 PM

In a tapas bar in historic Alexandria, watching the World Cup. It turns out that Alexandria is a bike-friendly city, and as we rode in on the trail, we immediately saw a sign for a bike shop. They were very nice, very impressed with our adventure, and we now have a new spare tire and tube.

Tomorrow we will ride through all of Alexandria. It seems a shame to be here and not see anything just to put in more miles. And after that we will ride through Mt. Vernon, and stay a motel just outside of Mt. Vernon. A very short day, but again, it’s a shame not to see these places while we can. This is what I meant by less biking, more touring. Two things I’m looking forward to tomorrow are dinner with my cousin Laurie, and the laundry room at our motel. Another reason for the short day tomorrow is that it sets us up better for riding around Quantico the next day, which is supposed to be a depressingly boring, service-free ride through nowhere. Then we will move onto Fredricksburg and Richmond, two places we are looking forward to seeing.

On to Day 20

Back to Day 17

10:30 AM

Drinking iced tea in Martha and Mary’s in Reisterstown, MD.

Our hotel for the past 2 nights had a Jacuzzi, which we did not use because it was filled with 17 year old lacrosse players. It had an exercise room, which we did not use for obvious reasons. It also had a bar, with free drinks and appetizers from 5:30 – 7:30, which we used, for obvious reasons.

Our plan last night was to have a drink, then walk to Wegman’s for dinner. But after a drink we decided that walking all the way down the road and across a parking lot was way too ambitious, so we just ate more appetizers. Judd was sitting next to us and said, “You do realize that’s like right across the street, don’t you?” So we explained our laziness, and had a few drinks with Judd – he and Dana totally clicked talking about sports cars. He invited us to his beach house in Rehobeth on our drive home.

This morning began with the ceremonial turning on of the helmets. We had to turn them off and back on again, which goes right along with watching The IT Crowd every night on Netflix. It’s a quirky British sitcom about the misadventures of 2 IT geeks. One of them always answers his phone with “Have you tried turning it off and back on again?” Which is exactly what we will say about the headsets from now on. Special thanks to our our friends Anne and Joe for turning us onto that show.

Our ride today began on a busy road, uphill with no shoulder, trucks whizzing by, but I rode it bravely – I’m trying to raise my grade to an A+ in effort. I am making a new rule for Dana, however. When we are trying to change lanes, and I ask him “are we clear back?”, he often replies “We’re clear… Enough”. From now on, the only acceptable answers are Yes and No. That Enough thing freaks me out.

7 PM

We took a few pictures today that I will share.  I am not yet ready to discuss the day, but I can do pictures.

9 PM

When people ask why we are doing this, Dana says it’s our second honeymoon, which he defines as the time to forget all the old arguments, and start some new ones.  So far, so good.

As you may recall, before we started this adventure, Dana said “Don’t worry, it’s only 600 hilly miles.”, and I said that “only” and “600 hilly miles” should never be used together in a sentence. Well, I’ve thought of an appropriate sentence: The only reason I am divorcing my husband is that he made me ride 600 hilly miles.

Has a nice ring to it, right?

So today we hit mile 600, and there are still more hills. And for some reason they felt even worse today, at least to me. Dana was flying up them, saying “What’s your problem. This isn’t even a hill.” We had planned a 50+ mile day, going off route for the last mile to get a hotel. A few problems with that plan:

• It wasn’t one mile off route, it was 5.
• For the entire 5 miles, every half mile, Dana said “It’s only a mile further”
• Google maps navigated us in circles through a neighborhood and a school parking lot
• We had to walk 2 miles on a highway
• When we got the hotel they had no rooms available
• We had to call 6 hotels before we got a room

And another problem… That 600 thing? Complete bullshit. I’m slugging up the hills today saying “I thought we’d be done with hills by now”, and Dana says “No, silly female. The hills don’t just disappear. They disappear gradually after the first 600.”

If anyone wants to defend him on this one, go for it. I know some of you appreciate a challenge.

On to Day 19

Back to Day 16

2 PM

Last night, sitting on the patio with Mike, Katy and Ginny, I noticed a nasty spot on my right hand, in the V between my thumb and forefinger. I’m sure it’s somehow related to my gloves, although that doesn’t explain the localized nature of the ickiness. So we all looked at my hand for a while, and then Katy went inside and returned with Bacitracin ointment, Band-Aids,and blister pads. I now have a lovely first aid kit, and it’s amazing how well the Bacitracin is clearing up my ickiness. Thank you Katy!!!

This morning we enjoyed an upscale breakfast buffet in our upscale hotel, then we walked to the Hunts Point mall. Our major purchase was a stylus – better to blog you with, my dears. Dana made me buy a grown up looking one, although I would have preferred the one shaped like a crayon. Then we went to Dick’s Sporting Goods, and I found lots of clothes I’d love to buy, but it will have to wait until we get home. We also found some very tempting hand weights – proof of why you should never shop on a long distance bike tour.

It’s hot, and it’s an outdoor mall, so we mostly just found shady and air conditioned places to rest our butts. Tomorrow we will ride 50 miles, almost to DC, but they are looking to be the flattest miles yet, and we will cross our 600 mile mark. So, after 2 weeks of whining about hills, and with most of the nasty hills now behind us, I’d like to offer a brief retrospective on hill climbing…

While many people assume I am an avid cyclist, the truth is that this really isn’t my sport. I’ve been riding a road bike for almost 40 years now, and I’m always the slowest hill climber in every group. Because of this, supportive people have offered me advice, which is nice, but seldom useful in the moment. Less patient people have simply stopped riding with me, which is cool. Mean people have laughed at me, or ridden circles around me, which is not cool.

I look at cycling as a fun thing to do with friends, as in “Let’s go for a bike ride and get ice cream.” Dana, on the other hand, loves cycling, and is always pushing to improve. I like to come home from a bike ride slightly sore and sweaty, with a telltale ice cream stain on my shirt. He likes to come home dizzy, nauseous, and dripping with sweat. Thus, when we planned this ride, I had more than a few reservations about what he expected of me. But he has been patient and understanding from the start, continuously assuring me that he had no grandiose expectations about our pace or progress. Nonetheless, I have been feeling guilty, always aware of how much better he could be doing without me.

What? Me feel guilty? Never!

We’ve been talking a lot on this trip, often just trying to keep the headsets alive. We’ve talked while slogging up hills at 3 MPH, and walking up hills at 1 MPH. And we’ve gotten into more than a few arguments – probably more arguments than we’ve had in the last 25 years of raising kids. Between my guilt, my general hill slugginess, and Dana’s opaquely disguised frustration with my tortoise speed, he has sparked many an argument by saying such things as:

• You know, you would do better on this hill if you were in a lower gear.
• You know, you would do better on this hill if you were in a higher gear.
• You really shouldn’t shift gears on a hill like that, it’s bad for your derailleur.
• You should try standing up on hills.
• You shouldn’t stand up so quickly on hills, it’s bad for your knees.
• You should focus on pushing over the top of your stroke.
• You should focus on pulling back at the bottom of your stroke.
• You should focus on having a smooth, circular pedal stroke.
• You shouldn’t get so down on yourself, you’re doing fine on the hills.

It’s nothing I haven’t heard, over and over, for the past 40 years, and I’m really not trying to pick on him. My attitude about the hills, and about my hill climbing ability, has been horrible. And my problems go far beyond any particular hill climbing achievement or failure on this ride. Truth be told, I have never felt completely comfortable on a bike, never been able to take both hands off the handlebars, barely able to take off one hand with the pannier weight in the back. Riding without a shoulder, being passed by trucks, riding fast downhills, riding on narrow bridge sidewalks, riding near cliffs or guardrails  – it all terrifies me. As a cyclist, I deserve a C+ for ability, and an A for effort.

So I have been down, depressed, and nervous, and every little thing sets me off. We’ve met about 10 other riders on the ACA route so far, and all 10 are stronger than I am, by far. I am not imagining this. If I read their blogs, I see that they do more miles than I do, in the hilly terrain, in less time. If we compare miles per day, they always do more. People in the big boy bike blog say things like “a beginning rider should expect to do at least 40 miles per day at the start of any cross country tour.” It all makes me feel bad.

Yes, I know it’s not a race, and it’s not a competition, and I am only competing against myself. I’ve been a coach. I’ve been an athlete. I get it. But here’s the thing… if I am in competition with myself, I’m winning, but I’m also losing. Silly when you think about it that way, isn’t it?

Before we started this ride, when I was nervous about the hills, Dana said “Don’t worry. You’ll see. By the time we’re through Connecticut, you’ll do great on the hills. All you need is some time and practice.”

WRONG.

I am glad to say, for the record, that I have officially proven that I will never be great on hills. Perhaps I can get better, perhaps I have even gotten a little better, but I will never be great. I will never even be good. And that’s OK.

I’m sure I would improve if I trained more, but I do not enjoy training. This ride, for all of it’s challenges, is fun. It’s an adventure. If Dana had said “Instead of riding to Florida, how about we just do a 50 mile training ride around home everyday?”, I would not be blogging. At least not about riding. Maybe about divorcing, but not about riding.

So as the miles accumulate, and we try not to argue, I have tried to turn this topic to a more general level. Not about me, not about us, not even about biking. Is it OK to just accept a plateau, be happy where you are, and stop fighting yourself? Dana says no, that anyone who isn’t always striving for improvement is depressing. But I think some of the happiest people are those who’ve accepted their limitations, accepted where they are, and have learned to live within those parameters.

Meanwhile, Dana is talking about what we will do on our next bike tour. And here I was thinking I would just toss the bike into the water in Florida and rest my butt for the next – oh, let’s say 40 years. But nooooo. So I am making a few rules because, as thrilling as it’s been proving that a hill slug can ride from Westford, MA to Cockeysville, MD and keep going, I have no great need to do it again. So if I get a vote – and I’m not sure I do – our next bike tour will involve less biking and more touring. Or I will buy one of those little motors for my bike, because I no longer have anything to prove to myself or anyone else.

I am also going to buy a Hill Slug shirt, which I will wear with pride.

On to Day 18