On the Road Again

I have a goal for 2015 of getting back into road biking. While I hate to wade into a sport with more sectarian schisms than Iraq and see no reason to spend as much on a bike as I did on my first three cars combined (which can easily be done once you venture into the land of carbon fiber construction and shift-by-wire derailleurs), the fact of the matter - as Cyndi points out - is that there are a lot of places to explore in the world that aren't on the water.

I got an start on my 2015 riding by doing the Arlington Loop today. After spending the morning of what was forecast to be the last day of a late December warm spell doing chores and paperwork I decided I just needed to get out and take advantage of the weather. It took me a while to get everything together: bike tires inflated, proper clothing, proper layering for the weather, helmet, phone, various braces in case my knee or foot gave out. Finally I headed out the door, and as I did it started raining. Fortunately the modern world is a wonderful place and so I was able to see on my phone that the rain was a band of light showers which would soon pass, leaving me to do at least most of my ride dry. I decided to go ahead with the ride.

As expected, it rained a little as I zoomed down the W&OD towards Shirlington. The first third of the loop in this direction is great - largely downhill with a 300+ foot elevation drop from my house to the river. Anyone can feel like a powerful rider on a long downhill trail! Phase two of the ride, always my favorite part, was rain-free. I love this part because it's along the river. Which means I was using my bike which can explore away from water to explore a part of the world that was on the water ... never mind. I didn't make any long stops on this ride, but I did pause to watch one airplane depart out of DCA.

Part three of the ride stank as always. The ride up from Rosslyn back to East Falls Church is hilly. Lots of steep ups and downs, and of course you have to gain back that 300+ feet of elevation. Plus it hard started to rain again - but again, just lightly.

Total mileage: about 18 mi.
Average speed: a slow 12 MPH.

Conclusion: I feel like I had some power in my legs from my exercise bike workouts at the gym, but I'm clearly just at the beginning.

Mattawoman on Boxing Day

There's a section in the book The Boys in the Boat, a book about the U.S. 1936 Olympic crew team,where author Daniel James describes George Pocock's switch from Spanish cedar to western red cedar as a shell-building material. In fact, he waxes rhapsodic about the wood, describing it as "a kind of wonder wood" that is "light and buoyant", "easy to shape", "strong but flexible", "highly resistant to rot" with a "lovely scent". It was exactly this section which played when I switched the audio book version on in my car on the way home from Indian Head. I smiled, my arm resting on the western red cedar paddle I had just used on the day's kayak outing and had carved myself earlier this year. As I listened I felt a particularly strong connection to the words of the book and to the long-departed Pocock himself.

The kayak launch could use some maintenance

Tall Tom and I took advantage of some splendid December weather to hit the water. On a previous trip on Mattawoman I had spotted a sign for a free kayak launch off of Rt. 224 and so we decided to give that a try. The launch was in need of some upkeep - the dock was partly washed away and the dropoff from the bank into fairly deep water made it a little cumbersome to clamber into the boats. We soon discovered that the first quarter mile or so was twisty with fast-flowing water (perhaps faster than usual thanks to recent rains) and lots of obstacles - a little challenging to navigate in long sea kayaks. Once we ran that first gantlet, though, things settled down and we found ourselves in a beautiful nature preserve. There were birds galore - it seemed at every turn we flushed a flock of something or other. Geese. Ducks. Kingfishers. Eagles. Cormorants. Gulls.

Flushing birds

Warm winter days call for careful energy management. You have to dress for the water temperature and so if you work too hard you wind up getting overheated. Plus, Tom was getting over a cold and I haven't been paddling much, so we took it easy. According to MapMyRun we were doing 3.25 - 3.5 MPH. Not slow, but not in-season speed.

As an aside, this was my first experiment with using the MapMyRun app to track a kayak trip. Mixed results. It was nice to not have an extra device (standalone GPS) to manage. However, even though the app allowed me to specify that I had been kayaking, the results it reported were decidedly running-oriented: one mile split times in minutes per mile, which I had to manually convert to the speeds reported above. No data downloads. No analysis. And a strange absence of a zero speed section which I would have expected when we took a break. Maybe the paid version offers more.

A refreshing dip at the end of the trip

Anyway, we paddled out about four miles, then turned around and paddled a mile back to Mattingly Avenue park where we took a break. From there it was back into the pretty, narrow section of the creek. The lotus fields of the summer were just stalks, making it harder to spot the shallow parts - we each went aground here and there. Getting out of my kayak back at the launch I stepped out into much deeper water than I expected and wound up taking a waist deep dip in the cold creek water and flipping my boat. A nice outing nonetheless.

Total distance: 8.35 mil (per MapMyRun).

I Almost Missed November

I try to get out in my kayak at least once every month of the year. The deep winter months of December, January and February can present a challenge for kayaking - busy schedules, polar vortex temperatures, and ice bound rivers. November isn't usually a problem, but thanks to a succession of minor medical maladies and just a busy schedule I have been off the water since late October. Today, just in the nick of time I managed to get in a November paddle, thanks to Deke and his cleverly named WASUP-DOCK (Washington Area Stand Up Paddleboarders - District of Columbia Kayaker) Meetup group. The unusually warm weather helped too.

I signed up for a trip  around the "toe of the boot" of the Mason Neck/Pohick peninsula but at the last minute almost didn't make it. One of my current maladies is a sore back - I think I injured myself hauling musical gear to Friday night's gig. Bending down and lifting is a problem when I injure my back and when I went to take my kayak off the storage rack I realized I just couldn't lift the darn thing. I almost called it quits at that point (I'd be crazy to go out kayaking with this sort of back injury, right?) but decided to persevere. I got down onto my knees and tugged the kayak off the rack onto the grass then used my kayak cart to roll it the twenty feet to the car. From there I was able to lift the bow, then the stern, into the Hullivator (I was OK as long as I only had to lift half the thing at a time). From there it was smooth sailing and I got folks to help me out at the other end.

A Pair of Eagles

Launching from Mason Neck it was Deke, Tall Tom, Linda, Ed and me (I had never met Linda or Ed before). It being wintertime the water was smooth and thick. A large number of ducks floated ahead of us, taking off en masse as we approached. As planned, we headed west through Belmont Bay, around the point into lower Occoquan Bay, then around the next point into the Potomac. I got a little concerned as we paddled since I felt a growing sciatica pain setting in on the side of my back injury. I had visions of being unable to get myself out of my boat (reminiscent of a time when I herniated a disk carrying music gear but didn't realize it until I tried - and failed - to stand up from the piano bench at the end of practice).

I'm dwelling on injuries here, but there was plenty of good stuff too. For one thing, a lot of eagle sightings. We think it was the same 2-4 eagles we kept seeing again and again. A nesting pair, we think - two together a lot. Up high in a tree. Down low on a branch. Sitting in a tree near a nest. I spotted an immature (brown foliage) eagle too. We also saw wood ducks, some herons, and later on a flock that seemed to be a mix of geese and some white bird - tundra swans? snow geese?

Scene on the River

We took a break after paddling about five miles, landing to stretch our legs and have a snack. It was at this point that we saw the geese / swans, a flock of which took off with a cool sound of massed beating wings.

Taking a break really helped my back. I felt much better as we started paddling again, which was good because we shortly hit some unexpectedly rough conditions. The wind, which had been forecast to be about 10 MPH, instead whipped up to about 20 (that's my estimate, confirmed from data I was able to find online). That kicked up some significant waves. To quote Deke's write-up of the trip, "What started out on the first half of the trip as a cake walk (with a little bit of wind for interest) turned into a different paddle on the return. Whitecaps, headwinds, broaching waves, follow[ing] seas, and even a little bit of surfing." Fortunately it never got too rough and we were never far from shore, so the wind and chop was fun, not scary.

When we got back I found my back was feeling much better than when we had started - kayaking is good medicine! I really do think the movement helps. We all said our goodbyes - until the next WASUP-DOCK adventure.

Distance: 10.7 mi

Windy Foliage Paddle

The Honda Odyssey is not normally an inspiring vehicle. The utilitarian soccer mom minivan does not leave one longing for cruising the open road, or romance, or anything like that. But today I was following one up the twisty road out to Fountainhead Regional Park. As it drove along it kicked up a blizzard of leaves, which were then kept aloft by the wind. It was like being in a snowstorm of autumn. An almost magical feeling.

I'm a fall foliage junkie and one of my regular outings is to kayak at Fountainhead Park, which is one of the better local foliage spots. Jim Z,. had organized a CPA foliage paddle but I missed it because of the Tourette's walk, so the next morning I opted to launch on my own from Fountainhead.

The way the wind was blowing the leaves around should actually have been a tip-off to me. When I got out of my car at the park I realized it was WINDY. I later looked it up and the online reports showed the winds were gusting over 30 MPH when I went out. What I knew at the time was that it was pretty blowy - things like traffic cones were blowing down and I had to make sure I was in between gusts when I lifted my kayak off the car and carried it to the water.

I headed up into the wind (this is always a better idea than starting out downwind). The Occoquan is essentially a long, narrow lake and so even the heavy winds weren't kicking up very big waves. Still, every time it would gust I felt like the wind was trying to rip the paddle out of my hands, and I had to duck my head against the force of the wind. I tried to get out of the wind by heading up into various coves but even those were pretty breezy. The one good aspect of the weather was that the made it possible to sneak up on wildlife and get photos. I think the wind was hiding my sound and smell, and the cool weather was making the turtles sluggish. Still, I didn't pull out the camera very often since each time I did the wind would start taking me and my kayak off in all kinds of directions. I wished I could have gotten video of a heron I saw attempting to fly in the wind and looking for all the world like he was FUI (flying under the influence). The autumn blizzard effect continued out on the water as well and I tried unsuccessfully to get some pictures of it. It was just too hard, even when I grounded myself alongside the shore to capture a moment with all the leaves blowing around.

I only made it as far as Wolf Run, a much shorter distance than I'd expected to paddle. This wasn't turning out to be the contemplative leaf peeping paddle I had expected and so after beating upwind for a while I decided to turn back. The trip back was, of course, like lightening. I was back at the launch in no time.

It seems like I always run into someone at this park. As I loaded my boat Pastor Pete (Peter H3) and Deke showed up at the lead of a Meetup outing. They invited me to join them for lunch but it looked like it was going to take a long time for all of them to land and load their gear. I needed to get home so I took my leave of them and headed on my way.

Shenandoah Foliage Hike

On Saturday Valerie and I went for a strenuous hike in the woods.

Take a moment. Read that sentence again. And again. Now read this one:

On Saturday I went to a Bar Mitzvah celebration at the home of Abu Bakr al-Bagdhadi, the leader of ISIS.

Which sentence surprised you more?

Well, the fact that this hike happened and was in fact a big a success proves that anyone can change, so maybe there's hope for ol' Abu yet.

The circumstances were a visit to Ted down at JMU. His college sits in the Shenandoah Valley and it was pretty close to peak foliage season so we decided that as our big activity Saturday we'd do some leaf peeping. To tell you the truth, I had set the bar low in terms of what we were going to do - stop at a couple of overlooks, do a short hike up a fire road and then turn back.

After an unexpectedly delicious breakfast at Ted's favorite breakfast place and a quick stroll through the Harrisonburg farmer's market we headed for the hills. There was a backup of cars at the entrance to the park (I thought it might not be bad since we were entering via the Swift Run Gap entrance - far from any cities - but I was wrong). We got a nice surprise, though, when we finally got to the gate - the ranger waved us through the gate without collecting the entrance fee. What's better than peak foliage? FREE peak foliage!

We parked at the South River picnic area lot (mile 63). I figured we'd stroll the South River Falls fire road with a stretch goal of reaching the falls. I didn't bother mentioning the "real" trail, which I figured would be too strenuous. As it happened, on our way out of the parking lot we passed the trail head for the "real" South River Falls Trail. As we looked at the map some people came out and assured us that it wasn't an overly difficult trail. And so off down the trail we went!

Well, it's true it wasn't a killer trail, but it had a lot of elevation change for a non-hike who only recently took up walking - and only on flat, paved trails. Plus there were stream crossings, switchbacks, and rough tread in places. Valerie did really well!!! We wound up hiking the whole South River loop - out on the South River Falls trail, stopping at the falls overlook, then continuing on to where it hit the fire road. From there we took the fire road back. As it happens, this particular fire road isn't that much easier of a hike than the trail, so the way back wasn't a piece of cake either. We made the climb back at a slow pace and skipped the opportunity to do the last little bit on the Appalachian trail, opting instead to hike up to Skyline Drive and finish up on pavement.

Stream Crossing

Along the trail Ted made fun of us a lot for our slow pace, frequently skipping ahead down the trail. I don't let that sort of thing bother me - I can always write him out of the will :) Plus there have been plenty of warm days when he's collapsed into an exhausted lump at a point where I've barely broken a sweat (heat is the penguin's Kryptonite).

The scenery was as grand as expected. Brilliant hues, leaves of all colors all around us. The day was crisp and sunny. Everyone finished the hike happy and a little bit worn out - in a good way.

Perhaps my favorite foliage hike ever, because I did it with my family.

Ted, Out Ahead

Chincoteague

After Henry left for home I headed out to catch up with a kayaking weekend already in progress. A group of my kayaking friends had rented a quirky old house (formerly owned by actress Linda Lavin!) in the sleepy seaside town of Chincoteague, VA. They had all arrived on Friday. By the time I got there on Saturday evening the group had finished paddling for the day and everyone was well into dinner preparation and tequila ingestion. I unloaded my stuff and carted it up to the room I was sharing with Rob P. Like any good old Victorian house this one had been cobbled together and expanded over the years, and so to get to our room you went through the laundry room, turned right, then climbed the curving back stairs to a room over what I think was at one time a garage. Nice view of the water, plenty of room. I came back downstairs and joined the party just in time for a dinner of fresh local flounder. 

Lavinder House

 

It had been a grey drizzly day and the evening too was cool and breezy. We hung out inside and socialized until it was time for bed. As usual, I was one of the last off to bed. When I got upstairs I discovered that Rob has started sleeping with a CPAP. While the use of the device resolves his notoriously loud snoring, I was surprised when I walked into our bedroom to find Rob asleep with his mask on and a machine whooshing away next to him.

Sunset from Rob's and My Room

  We awoke Sunday to find it blowing pretty hard outside and so we set to work poring over charts, books and web sites to find a sheltered place to paddle. Launch at Snow Hill onto the Pocomoke? That's been our bad weather bailout on many Assateague trips. We decided that we're all tired of Snow Hill. Instead we chose what looked to be a fairly narrow and protected area between Chincoteague and Assateague Islands. The paddling group was Paul and Carrie, Suzanne, Jim, Steven and me. Mike and Linda, Marilyn, and Rob opted out. After getting parking permits in town (I wouldn't have thought of this) we drove to a nearby boat ramp and got underway. We first paddled north up to a point where there was a bridge and the waterway turned to a more exposed angle. We could see that the wind was blowing pretty hard up on the other side of the bridge, with whitecaps forming on the water. Steven and Paul headed up that way to play in the rough water; the rest of us turned around and headed south.

Lighthouse Landing Party

 Carrie, Suzanne, Jim and I decided to see if we could visit the Assateague lighthouse from the water. A little poking around revealed a (technically off limits) boat ramp where we went ashore. The place was really buggy - even I got a mosquito bite (mosquitos generally ignore me). We walked up to the lighthouse but opted not to climb it as there was a line and maybe even a fee. Of course, we were all also decked out in kayaking gear - which got us some looks from the other visitors - and which was really the wrong wardrobe for lighthouse climbing. After using the (technically off limits) Porta-potty we headed back down the (technically off limits) trail back to our boats.

Pensive

We knocked around for a bit more and, rejoined by Paul and Steven, landed at a park back on the Chincoteague side of the water for a lunch break. As we were landing Suzanne came too close to where some folks were fishing and wound up snagging someone's fishing line on her kayak, leading to lots of jokes about what a catch she was, how the fisherman had to throw her back, and threats of Photoshops of Suzanne hung upside down like a prized catch.

After lunch we decided to go out for "a little more" paddling. Carrie knew that "a little more" could mean hours more and so she dropped out. The park where we took our lunch break was pretty close to our original launch site and so she said she'd just paddle back and wait for us. The rest of us headed back out. The wind had dropped some but it was still pretty choppy. We followed along the shore (we saw some ponies in the distance at one point) and continued into the open crossing across Tom's Cove on the back side of Assateague - about a couple of miles across. The wind and the current made for a challenging crossing. Once we made it across we took a break at the southern end of Assateague where we strolled the wide, open beach. We didn't want to stay too long since we knew we had some significant conditions on the way home, with tide, wind and current. Just looking out from shore we could see there was a strong current out towards the ocean - easily noticed by observing boats sliding past the beach sideways, as they were pushed past us by the current.

Assateague Beach - Tom's Cove

The trip back across Tom's Cove was work. We had to set a significant ferry angle to counteract the wind and current (vector math: if you want to go straight across and the current is pushing you to the left, then you have to paddle aiming to the right of where you want to end up - this is called a ferry angle), but while it was harder work going back, I found it easier to maintain direction on the way back than on the way over. By the time we got back into the more protected water I was running low on steam and I was quite happy when we finally made it back to the launch.

Back at the house we rendezvoused with the non-paddling group. They had done a long walk on Assateague Island but had been back at the house for a while. Dinner soon got under way - chicken with winter squash and some rice. Another delicious meal. After dinner Paul and I serenaded the group on guitar and keyboard and then we all chilled out until bed time, when I once again drifted off to sleep to accompaniment of Rob's whooshing hyperbaric chamber.

Music

On Monday the majority of the group woke up on shpilkes to get home. Suzanne had a case that was blowing up at work and so she and Marilyn hit the road. Paul and Carrie had been traveling a long time (they had been in North Carolina at a wedding before this weekend) and were eager to get home. Mike and Linda hit the road too. That left Rob, Steven, Jim and me. The four of us did a roughly five mile outing out of the park up the street from the house, exploring the downtown section of the town of Chincoteague from the water. We paddled into a little cove to check out the boats at the Coast Guard station and were promptly chased away by Coast Guardsmen (for the record, the area was not posted off limits in any way, though I guess it was technicall off limits). We got back to the cars at a good time as it started spattering rain soon thereafter. We loaded our boats and we too started the long ride home.

Spotted Near Town

Getting in Trouble with the Coast Guard

Henry and Harpers Ferry

My brother came for an all too rare visit this past week. Thursday was a nice crisp fall day and so we headed out to Harpers Ferry, WV. I figured I'd give the Brooklyn boy a drive in the country, a glimpse at some early fall foliage, and a taste of the Civil War history that is so pervasive in our area.

Our first stop in town was the historic confectionery shop. It's not just a candy store; it's a candy museum! The place has candy arranged by historic era and was staffed by a VERY enthusiastic woman who was happy to (couldn't have been prevented from?) tell us the history of candy as class struggle, international trade force, etc. Henry bought some bourbon chocolates. I like a museum where you can eat the exhibits.

From there we wandered up through town, continuing uphill towards Bolivar. Beyond the historic park area it's a pretty little town with some nice old houses. But hilly. When we had had enough of strolling uphill we started back down, stopping at an overlook with a commanding view of the town and the confluence of the rivers. The overlook sits between two shuttered hotels, a decaying grand building and well maintained motel-like structure. I can understand that there isn't much business for such places (I think these days people would rather stay at the nearby chain hotels) but they sure would make cool destination hotels - a yoga retreat center overlooking the Potomac, or something like that. Another idea to file away for when I win the lottery ...

It was close to lunch time when we made it back into the commercial part of town, but we decided to soldier on with our hiking. We crossed the bridge over to Maryland and started up the C&O Canal towpath with the intention of hiking at least part of the Maryland Heights trail. As we hiked the towpath we saw a number of groundhogs scurrying about - they're kind of cute, and didn't seem to mind seeing their shadows.

We made up to the base of the Maryland Heights climb but decided that, having already hiked up and down some hills on the other side of the river, we were more in the mood for lunch than climbing another trail. I came up with the idea that to make up for not hiking, when we left we'd walk back to the car rather than taking the shuttle bus. Heh.

Back in town we had a nice lunch outside at a restaurant, then went a few doors up and had some amazing caramel pretzel ice cream. Then we began the walk back to the car. And we walked. And we walked. The trail back to the car was almost two miles, ending with a long climb up stone stairs. Coming on top of the walking we had already done it seemed like a very long trek, and we were happy to settle into the car for the drive home.