Ride Report: To Wakefield, on Gravel
Ground Control to Major Tom
I am a fake and a poseur. I saw a heart rate monitor for sale at half price and snagged it. Twenty-odd bucks, and now I know with scientific accuracy just how unfit I am.
It has the benefit, however, of telling me when I'm starting to get close to redlining my heart rate, and so when to back off. It also tells me how many calories I've expended, which is kind of cool.
So, armed with all the best tools modern science could offer, I set off from my house.
The Hills are Alive
After yesterday's short hill-climbing outing, I had adjusted my saddle maybe one, maybe two centimeters up. I was much more comfortable doing hills now--proper knee extension and whatnot.
Initially, I went and hit some of the hillier residential streets here in Fairfax. Once again, my total lack of fitness was painfully obvious: my speed would creep down as my heart rate soared. I meandered around, looking for hills of modest size and no traffic. I found myself back in the gravel path network in and around Daniels' Run Park, popping in and out of the gravel paths in the wood to climb the residential subdivision hills.
Saw a heron by a drainage pond, and spooked a few deer as I came rattling through.
It was a great afternoon to be out on the bike, hot and humid, sure, but not oppressive; not much traffic on the roads or the gravel paths. I was feeling good.
To Wakefield and Back Again
The gravel path network eventually led me back to Old Lee Highway. My front derailleur threw my chain again as I tried to upshift to the big ring. I didn't panic and was able to shift the chain back onto the big ring without even having to stop and dismount. Hooray for cycling sang-froid!
At the base of the hill, I made a right on Old Pickett and found myself at the City Property Yard. There, I took the tunnel under Pickett Road.
This tunnel passes under Pickett Road in Fairfax, connecting Thaiss Park (a very nice complex of baseball fields for Little Leaguers) to the City Property Yard. This view is from the Thaiss Park end.
The tunnel saves cyclists the trouble of crossing Pickett Road, which is busy, but, as you can see, it tends to flood in the rain. Signs instruct cyclists to dismount while entering the tunnel, but I wasn't about to get my feet wet, so I rode through the muck up to my (spoke) nipples.
Aesthetically, I've always liked this tunnel, since it seems so surreal--it looks like some sort of dugout or bomb shelter. As I rode through, I whistled "We're Gonna Hang Out the Washing on the Siegfried Line." I'll have to come back here and do a few post-apocalyptic photos.
Once at Thaiss, I joined the Accotink Creek Trail, or, as it's named now, the Accotink Gateway Connector Trail.
Trail Marker for Accotink Gateway Connector Trail
The Accotink Gateway Trail is a path that follows Accotink Creek through Fairfax. It connects Fairfax with Audrey Moore (Wakefield) Park in Annandale. Mostly crushed gravel, some sealed surfaces, and connects to the mountain bike trails in Wakefield.
Back when I was riding the Raleigh, I took this trail. In hindsight, it was a bad idea. My immense bulk probably pounded the crap out of the narrow wheels and 700Cx 25mm tires--and the gravel was a lot coarser in those days. Not to mention the fact that I rode it, once again, up to the (spoke) nipples in mud.
In those days, the trail ended abruptly somewhere in Mantua. There was some singletrack leading into the woods beyond, but I turned back before I had a major mechanical failure.
(As it happened, the major mechanical failure on that bike would occur a few days or weeks later--the wheels did give out. To this day, I can't make up my mind about what I'm more upset about: trashing the wheels or failing to get the telephone number of the girl I was riding with/talking to that day).
Now, of course, everything is different. I have a nice bike with more sensible tires--and the trail has been extended all the way to Wakefield Park. I was in an exploring mood--average speed and heart rate be damned, so I pressed on.
I was surprised to find myself passing within sight of the Beltway, and ended up in Wakefield. A dilemma then presented itself:
The ford at Accotink Creek.
I wasn't about to roll my bike through the water--I couldn't see how deep it was. I wasn't going to get wet. What to do?
I ended up shouldering my bike and walking on the stepping stones. Slo-mo cyclocross, eh?
Once across the creek, I started poking around to see where I could get. Some of the trails were marked "MTB RACE COURSE," and looked a bit gnarly for my touring bike, but I found one that wasn't too bad and pedaled/walked. Eventually, it came out of the woods and into a clearing under some high-tension power lines.
Shoulder the bike over another gully, and size up the hill. I shouldered the bike and trotted up the hill, where I was treated to this vista:
When I was a little kid in Honduras, my friends and I would ride our BMXs down drops like this. Here I was, twenty-odd years later, and the same pit started to form in my stomach as I looked down.
There, within sight of the beltway, was the MTB racecourse. It looked like it would be lots of fun to ride--lots of dirt banks, a few jumps. I started down.
I wish I could tell you I rode it like a ten-year-old on a sugar rush. I wish I could tell you how I carved the turns, how I skillfully hopped over the rocks, how I managed to clear the big pile of rocks just visible in the middle there.
I didn't. I didn't crash, either, though--I just ended up chickening out and walking down and out of there. I'll be back, though, hopefully with more suitable equipment. Some day.
Pedaled back home the same way I came (minus the gratuitous hillclimb parts). Decided to stop off at my friendly local bike shop and have a chat. Talked with Dave, the owner for a bit, and scored a saddle for Franco's Follis (cheap) and a front fender (sans mounting hardware, free.) Talked bikes, naturally, and about the possibility of getting a local bike-commuter-assistance network up and running.
Incidentally--Oasis has been a real godsend here in Fairfax. It's one of the rare shops around here that will deal in old bikes, service, support, and advocacy. The owners are great bike people, and the shop deals more in bikes to get you from point A to point B rather than bikes-as-sporting-toys. It's the sort of shop that's been a long time coming here in Fairfax, and I'm glad to see them here.
Tied the rack and fender to my rear rack and pedaled home in a light drizzle.
Tale of the Tape
I stopped the clock when I got to the bike shop, since I've decided not to count errand-running and town runs as "exercise."
20.75 miles in 2 hours 15 minutes, giving an average speed of 9.2 miles an hour--that reflects a lot of time stopped at forks in the road/trail deciding whether to go one way or the other. According to my HRM, I expended some 2,849 calories.
All things considered, I'm happy to have gotten the HRM, just for that calorie-output number, but I'm finding that I enjoy exploring more than pushing myself to the limit.
I am a fake and a poseur. I saw a heart rate monitor for sale at half price and snagged it. Twenty-odd bucks, and now I know with scientific accuracy just how unfit I am.
It has the benefit, however, of telling me when I'm starting to get close to redlining my heart rate, and so when to back off. It also tells me how many calories I've expended, which is kind of cool.
So, armed with all the best tools modern science could offer, I set off from my house.
The Hills are Alive
After yesterday's short hill-climbing outing, I had adjusted my saddle maybe one, maybe two centimeters up. I was much more comfortable doing hills now--proper knee extension and whatnot.
Initially, I went and hit some of the hillier residential streets here in Fairfax. Once again, my total lack of fitness was painfully obvious: my speed would creep down as my heart rate soared. I meandered around, looking for hills of modest size and no traffic. I found myself back in the gravel path network in and around Daniels' Run Park, popping in and out of the gravel paths in the wood to climb the residential subdivision hills.
Saw a heron by a drainage pond, and spooked a few deer as I came rattling through.
It was a great afternoon to be out on the bike, hot and humid, sure, but not oppressive; not much traffic on the roads or the gravel paths. I was feeling good.
To Wakefield and Back Again
The gravel path network eventually led me back to Old Lee Highway. My front derailleur threw my chain again as I tried to upshift to the big ring. I didn't panic and was able to shift the chain back onto the big ring without even having to stop and dismount. Hooray for cycling sang-froid!
At the base of the hill, I made a right on Old Pickett and found myself at the City Property Yard. There, I took the tunnel under Pickett Road.
This tunnel passes under Pickett Road in Fairfax, connecting Thaiss Park (a very nice complex of baseball fields for Little Leaguers) to the City Property Yard. This view is from the Thaiss Park end.
The tunnel saves cyclists the trouble of crossing Pickett Road, which is busy, but, as you can see, it tends to flood in the rain. Signs instruct cyclists to dismount while entering the tunnel, but I wasn't about to get my feet wet, so I rode through the muck up to my (spoke) nipples.
Aesthetically, I've always liked this tunnel, since it seems so surreal--it looks like some sort of dugout or bomb shelter. As I rode through, I whistled "We're Gonna Hang Out the Washing on the Siegfried Line." I'll have to come back here and do a few post-apocalyptic photos.
Once at Thaiss, I joined the Accotink Creek Trail, or, as it's named now, the Accotink Gateway Connector Trail.
Trail Marker for Accotink Gateway Connector Trail
The Accotink Gateway Trail is a path that follows Accotink Creek through Fairfax. It connects Fairfax with Audrey Moore (Wakefield) Park in Annandale. Mostly crushed gravel, some sealed surfaces, and connects to the mountain bike trails in Wakefield.
Back when I was riding the Raleigh, I took this trail. In hindsight, it was a bad idea. My immense bulk probably pounded the crap out of the narrow wheels and 700Cx 25mm tires--and the gravel was a lot coarser in those days. Not to mention the fact that I rode it, once again, up to the (spoke) nipples in mud.
In those days, the trail ended abruptly somewhere in Mantua. There was some singletrack leading into the woods beyond, but I turned back before I had a major mechanical failure.
(As it happened, the major mechanical failure on that bike would occur a few days or weeks later--the wheels did give out. To this day, I can't make up my mind about what I'm more upset about: trashing the wheels or failing to get the telephone number of the girl I was riding with/talking to that day).
Now, of course, everything is different. I have a nice bike with more sensible tires--and the trail has been extended all the way to Wakefield Park. I was in an exploring mood--average speed and heart rate be damned, so I pressed on.
I was surprised to find myself passing within sight of the Beltway, and ended up in Wakefield. A dilemma then presented itself:
The ford at Accotink Creek.
I wasn't about to roll my bike through the water--I couldn't see how deep it was. I wasn't going to get wet. What to do?
I ended up shouldering my bike and walking on the stepping stones. Slo-mo cyclocross, eh?
Once across the creek, I started poking around to see where I could get. Some of the trails were marked "MTB RACE COURSE," and looked a bit gnarly for my touring bike, but I found one that wasn't too bad and pedaled/walked. Eventually, it came out of the woods and into a clearing under some high-tension power lines.
Shoulder the bike over another gully, and size up the hill. I shouldered the bike and trotted up the hill, where I was treated to this vista:
When I was a little kid in Honduras, my friends and I would ride our BMXs down drops like this. Here I was, twenty-odd years later, and the same pit started to form in my stomach as I looked down.
There, within sight of the beltway, was the MTB racecourse. It looked like it would be lots of fun to ride--lots of dirt banks, a few jumps. I started down.
I wish I could tell you I rode it like a ten-year-old on a sugar rush. I wish I could tell you how I carved the turns, how I skillfully hopped over the rocks, how I managed to clear the big pile of rocks just visible in the middle there.
I didn't. I didn't crash, either, though--I just ended up chickening out and walking down and out of there. I'll be back, though, hopefully with more suitable equipment. Some day.
Pedaled back home the same way I came (minus the gratuitous hillclimb parts). Decided to stop off at my friendly local bike shop and have a chat. Talked with Dave, the owner for a bit, and scored a saddle for Franco's Follis (cheap) and a front fender (sans mounting hardware, free.) Talked bikes, naturally, and about the possibility of getting a local bike-commuter-assistance network up and running.
Incidentally--Oasis has been a real godsend here in Fairfax. It's one of the rare shops around here that will deal in old bikes, service, support, and advocacy. The owners are great bike people, and the shop deals more in bikes to get you from point A to point B rather than bikes-as-sporting-toys. It's the sort of shop that's been a long time coming here in Fairfax, and I'm glad to see them here.
Tied the rack and fender to my rear rack and pedaled home in a light drizzle.
Tale of the Tape
I stopped the clock when I got to the bike shop, since I've decided not to count errand-running and town runs as "exercise."
20.75 miles in 2 hours 15 minutes, giving an average speed of 9.2 miles an hour--that reflects a lot of time stopped at forks in the road/trail deciding whether to go one way or the other. According to my HRM, I expended some 2,849 calories.
All things considered, I'm happy to have gotten the HRM, just for that calorie-output number, but I'm finding that I enjoy exploring more than pushing myself to the limit.