Winter Lanterns at The Reach

When I got into cycling in 2015 I started to hang around with cyclists I met through the Freezing Saddles winter cycling competition. Great people, and (in non-Omicron times) I still join them for coffee on a regular basis. The problem is, many of these folks are hardcore cyclists beyond my abilities or interest – people who’ll knock out 100 miles like it’s nothing, and so I rarely ride with them. Even if you’re a fast cyclist, riding 100 miles is an all-day commitment and I just am not interested in spending as much time in the saddle as these folks do. As I’ve said before, my kayaking friends are people I kayak with, whereas my cycling friends are people with whom I drink coffee.

There’s a Meetup called the NoVA Casual Bike Group which caters more to cyclists like me. I went on a couple of their rides years ago. The problem is, the group is quite large and their events usually fill up almost as soon as they’re announced. I got frustrated trying to get into their rides and gave up on them. Also, their season traditionally has been fairly short – they haven’t been winter-time riders. This year, though, they’ve got a winter riding series, and it’s easier to get into their winter rides since I guess it’s only their most hardcore riders who venture out into the cold.

My first 2022 ride with the Casual Bike Group (CBG) was an evening ride from Shirlington Library to The Wharf in DC. I smiled to myself when I felt he ride leader appraising me when I showed up. I’ve led enough groups to know that as the new guy you’re going to get sized up. I could tell the leader was thinking – Did I look like I could handle the ride? Did I have the appropriate equipment? Was I going to be any kind of a headache? I wasn’t offended – I would have done (and have done!) the same.

Before we left the leader went through an excruciatingly detailed pre-trip briefing, and asked how fast we wanted to ride. When the leader asked if 15 MPH would be OK, a couple of folks, me included, said that would be too fast and that we should instead try for 12-13 (believe it or not, a couple of MPH makes a big difference).

The ride itself was pretty uneventful. There were only six of us, so it was easy to keep the group together. When people do group rides they often call out to make sure everyone is aware of hazards such as a car coming from the left (“Car Left!), a runner coming towards us (“Runner Up!), or a bike passing our group (“Bike Back!”). It’s a good practice, but this club takes it to extremes, calling out every puddle and crack in the pavement. Overall, the group vibe was hyper-controlled to a fault. Well, better than being reckless, I suppose.

Part-way through the ride, we stopped to regroup (this club stops to regroup a lot) and the ride leader said to us, “those of you who said you couldn’t do 15 MPH? Well, guess what - that’s how fast we’ve been going!” I was doubly flabbergasted by this statement. First of all, the trip leader asked the group what speed they wanted to ride then deliberately ignored their input and rode faster. Second, I know what  15 MPH feels like and I had my bike computer running on my bike showing my speed and No Way were we sustaining 15 MPH. That might have been our peak speed down a hill or something, but trust me, this was no 15 MPH average ride.

Anyway, we rode to the Wharf and got some pretty decent falafel at Falafel, Inc. We ate outside standing at a hi-top table. As it happens, the person I was right across from a day or two later was diagnosed with COVID. Hoo boy. Fortunately, she didn’t pass her germs to me, but I had a couple of nervous days waiting to see if I was going to develop symptoms.

Remember how I said that the pre-ride briefing on that first ride was unusually detailed and that the leadership style was a little overbearing? It turns out I hadn’t seen nothin’ yet. My second outing with this group was led by the Casual Bike Group’s overall leader, a fellow called Gary.  Gary seems like a good guy overall, and he certainly gives a lot of himself to make the group a success, but he leads rides in a frightfully paternalistic style the way one might expect an elementary school class trip to be lead. Let me apologize here to the leader of the first trip, whose pre-trip briefing I previously described as being excruciatingly detailed. Compared with Gary’s briefing, that first one was a model of concision. Let me give you an example.

We again met at the Shirlington Library, headed for the Four Mile Run Trail. The intersection where you pick up the trail is busy and can indeed be dangerous (a friend of mine was hit by a cement truck while crossing there!). Usually, cyclists take the sidewalk and then cross at a crosswalk right onto the trail, but right now that sidewalk is closed due to construction. Here’s what we needed to be told: “We’re going to ride in the street, “take the lane” on Arlington Mill Rd. into Shirlington Rd., then make a right onto the bike trail.” I just said that sentence out loud, which took about ten seconds. Instead, we got about a five minute discourse on riding at night, how the traffic light only gives you four seconds to cross, but if you push the “Walk” button you instead get twenty seconds, and so on and so on. Further, it was deemed that making the sharp right turn from Shirlington Rd. onto the trail was too difficult and so the group would continue on the street past the trail entrance, turning right instead into a gas station where we’d make a U-turn then ride back on the sidewalk and then make an equally sharp left turn (albeit without the street to off-street transition) onto the trail. Most of the group followed the leader. One of my Freezing Saddles friends was on the ride too and she and I, who are used to navigating Shirlington (and riding like grown-ups), just instinctively made the (supposedly too sharp) right turn onto the trail (which was no problem) and then stopped to wait for the rest of the group to do its little loop-de-loop through the gas station.

Group photo

The ride down the Four Mile Run Trail was uneventful, if shouty (“Bike Up!”, “Walker Up!”, “Wet Pavement!” …). When we stopped for the first time to regroup (have I mentioned this club stops a lot to regroup?) the rider who had been in front of me chastised me for not passing along her yelled out warnings down the chain. This was not a “you’re new here, let me explain our riding protocols to you” kind of talk; no, it was a full finger-pointing admonishment. I assured her that I had indeed been passing her hazard info down the line (I’m always going to go along with group protocol). She said, “Well, I didn’t hear you. I guess I’ll have to shout louder.” I wasn’t sure how her shouting louder was going to help anything, but rather than further engage with her I decided just to stay as far as possible from her for the rest of the ride. Clearly this woman was very safety conscious, but perhaps not too bright. I say this because riding behind her I had noticed that she had a red rear light attached to the seat post of her bike, but she also had a seat bag hanging behind the light, completely obscuring it. The only way you could see her from behind at all was courtesy of some reflective material on her pants. Since the sharing of constructive criticism is clearly the norm in this group I thought I might mention to her that the way she had her rear light set up was obviously stupid … but I thought she might see that assessment as impolite. If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.

We had a choice from among three bridges across the Potomac. Roosevelt Bridge would have taken us right into the Kennedy Center with no on-street riding in DC. Memorial Bridge would have given us a simple ride from the Lincoln Memorial to the Kennedy Center. Instead, we took the 14^th Street Bridge, which meant we had to take a slightly complicated route from the bridge to our destination – up and down off of some sidewalks, and following a challenging path along the river. This choice of route meant we had to regroup (again) and stop to listen to another set of very detailed instructions about that last mile or so of the ride.

Awaiting further instruction at the Lincoln Memorial

Upon reaching the Kennedy Center we were told to stop and walk our bikes up the ramp, and also told when to shut off our headlights. Gary explained that bike headlights have three brightness settings and that you should never use “high” unless you have to because it will run out the battery in 45 minutes. Always use “low” and go to “medium” only if you have to. That was an excellent tutorial for riders who had never before used a battery-powered device, and whose lights were just like Gary’s. My headlight has five brightness settings and lasts almost three hours on the brightest setting – but I decided not to raise my hand and point out that not all bike lights are the same. Truth be told, there were some people in the group who were having trouble managing their lights – either they forgot to charge their lights, or they didn’t know how to adjust the levels. One woman forgot to bring a tail light. Maybe I shouldn’t be hard on Gary; it could be he just knows his audience.

Lantern Displays

At The Reach we parked our bikes against a wall, then at Gary’s direction all moved our bikes and re-parked them so they were less spread out. Gary watched the bikes while the rest of us enjoyed the display (he had been there the night before pre-riding the ride and so was OK missing it). The lanterns were pretty as always, and a little different than the previous display.

The ride back was uneventful. The only oddity came when we were riding in the street through West Potomac Park. The guy leading the group at that point was in the right lane, and all of us were following him in that lane. Suddenly a woman somewhere behind me – maybe the sixth person back in the group – repeatedly started shouting “everyone move left!” The leader stayed right; either he didn’t hear her or he was ignoring her. She got more agitated and shouted that clearly we didn’t know right from left and needed to go left, not further right. I believe in following the leader, not some rando in the middle of the group. If some of us has stayed behind the leader while others had followed her we would have wound up spread out across both lanes of traffic, which would have been unsafe as well as obnoxious to any cars trying to use the road. To myself, but in a stage whisper, I said, “I’m following the leader, not someone backseat driving.” The person riding next to me – hey, it was the same woman who had yelled at me earlier! – responded with “wah-wah-wah”, like the sound the adults make in Peanuts cartoons. I’m discovering this group has an odd dynamic.

By the time we got back to Shirlington I was done. I said a quick goodbye to the folks who returned with me (the group had gotten spread out) and headed for my car. OK, this is a pretty kvetchy write-up because in fact I was taken aback by the style of this group. But the reality is I had a good time – much of my riding is solo, and it’s nice to ride with others – and will probably suck it up and ride with them again. With my headlight on “Low”.