Ride Report: Lake Accotink via the Cross-County Trail
Une sonnette qui n'a pas de verses
My new bell is a Zefal "Piing" model, which I picked up for five bucks. Since my handlebars are a bit crowded, I had to be creative with the mounting.
The bell uses a clever zip-tie-esque mounting clamp, so I clamped it onto my Zefal HPx frame pump. The pump is held onto the frame by a braze-on pump peg and the spring tension on the pump itself. The bell is easy to work. When I want to ring it, I just reach down and flick it--just like using a downtube-mounted shifter.
By the way, both the pump and the bell are made in France. VIVE LA FRANCE.
Accotink Revisited
With my bell secured, I set off from the house. It was a beautiful afternoon--not too hot, not cold, a fine breeze (which is the optimists' way of describing a headwind). Despite my 105 km trip earlier in the week, or perhaps because of it, I felt a lot stronger than I'd been lately. I zipped through town with minimal effort and respectable speed. Shot down Old Lee Highway, Old Pickett, and crossed Pickett Road on the surface, avoiding the tunnel.
I joined the Accotink Trail and tried out my new legs. I'm keeping 18, 19, 20 miles an hour up in the paved sections, 15-17 in the unpaved sections.
At the Beltway underpass, I notice some unusual grafitti:
What the hell? Is that Katakana?
My legs carry me forward effortlessly and before I know it, I'm back at the ford across Accotink Creek.
A middle-aged man on a mountain bike let me ford first before crossing on his bike, going the other way.
"I can always ride it across this way," he says, nodding at the steep gravel bank below the noticeboard, "but I can never ride up the other way."
"Yeah?" I say. "Last time I was here, the creek was flooded, and I had to shoulder my bike across on the stones."
He was impressed.
Accotink Ford, Revisited. Accotink Creek was much lower than the last time I forded into Wakefield Park. I walked the bike along the streambed this time. Sometime soon, I'll ride across.
It turns out I'd been following the Cross-County Trail
This marker denotes a section of the "Cross-County Trail"--a loose connection of trails of various surfaces that runs roughly north-south through Fairfax County.
As a viable transportation corridor, the CCT leaves a lot to be desired. Where it crosses creeks, it does so at fords--heavy rains wash them out. In fact, heavy rains would make the roads impassable for me.
But today was such a beautiful day that I didn't care about any of that.
This bucolic scene is actually within earshot of the Capital Beltway
To the lake
Lake Accotink, two miles.
The dirt roads are actually very passable on 32mm tires, and there wasn't a lot of traffic on the trail. Even so, you can't let yourself be lulled into inattention:
I skidded to a halt in front of this downed tree. After considering my options, I shouldered my bike and scrambled over the tree. Safely clear of this obstacle, I pressed on towards the Lake Accotink Marina.
Crossing this bridge puts you into Lake Accotink Park.
The trail running to Lake Accotink climbs gently, winding around the lake, which is visible through the trees. I broke into the clear and carried my bike down to the lakeshore. It's not Lake Geneva, but it'll do for today.
Ducks in a row, Lake Accotink.
Flotsam, Lake Accotink
The "Marina," such as it is, is accessed by a bridge of questionable safety.
Wait, HOW many tons?
It was abuzz with activity. Kids playing; families renting paddleboats, and people setting off in kyacks.
These fine folks have forgotten their kyacks.
Lake Accotink Park looks like it would be a great place to take your kids. There's a mini-golf course, but, best of all, there's a merry-go-round!
Mine has two wheels.
I also got a sense of where I was.
I heard a locomotive horn blowing and turned around to catch a Manassas-line VRE train headed out towards Manassas:
Next stop: Rolling Road.
Turned around and spun back home at a rather more leisurely pace than I did on the way out. Since this was a "recovery" day, I spent some time admiring my surroundings.
A rocky ford over a dry streambed. It should have been rideable, but I walked it. When you're a dozen miles from home, it's a lot harder to sag it out.
Back up in Fairfax, I detoured on the sidewalk of Route 50, making the left up Rebel Run and using the "switchback" way up Old Lee Highway. Joined traffic and rolled along at a good 15 miles an hour over the top of the Old Lee Highway ridge. Traffic was mostly very polite, giving me just enough space as they passed by.
One ornery bastard in a red VW New Beetle Cabrio shouted at me. "BIKE PATH IS OVER THERE!" and pointed at the sidewalk. He passed me with just enough space. What is it about cars that makes people so goddamn aggressive? He didn't even need to slow down to pass me safely, and I daresay he was not delayed more than a few seconds.
Saw a cop settling in for a good afternoon's hunting round the corner from my house. I snapped him a salute, which he returned. A quick turn, and I'm home.
Totals
24.34 miles in 2 hours, 42 minutes makes a total average of 8.9 miles an hour. Damn me and my penchant for stopping to smell the roses!
Calories expended: 2509
My new bell is a Zefal "Piing" model, which I picked up for five bucks. Since my handlebars are a bit crowded, I had to be creative with the mounting.
The bell uses a clever zip-tie-esque mounting clamp, so I clamped it onto my Zefal HPx frame pump. The pump is held onto the frame by a braze-on pump peg and the spring tension on the pump itself. The bell is easy to work. When I want to ring it, I just reach down and flick it--just like using a downtube-mounted shifter.
By the way, both the pump and the bell are made in France. VIVE LA FRANCE.
Accotink Revisited
With my bell secured, I set off from the house. It was a beautiful afternoon--not too hot, not cold, a fine breeze (which is the optimists' way of describing a headwind). Despite my 105 km trip earlier in the week, or perhaps because of it, I felt a lot stronger than I'd been lately. I zipped through town with minimal effort and respectable speed. Shot down Old Lee Highway, Old Pickett, and crossed Pickett Road on the surface, avoiding the tunnel.
I joined the Accotink Trail and tried out my new legs. I'm keeping 18, 19, 20 miles an hour up in the paved sections, 15-17 in the unpaved sections.
At the Beltway underpass, I notice some unusual grafitti:
What the hell? Is that Katakana?
My legs carry me forward effortlessly and before I know it, I'm back at the ford across Accotink Creek.
A middle-aged man on a mountain bike let me ford first before crossing on his bike, going the other way.
"I can always ride it across this way," he says, nodding at the steep gravel bank below the noticeboard, "but I can never ride up the other way."
"Yeah?" I say. "Last time I was here, the creek was flooded, and I had to shoulder my bike across on the stones."
He was impressed.
Accotink Ford, Revisited. Accotink Creek was much lower than the last time I forded into Wakefield Park. I walked the bike along the streambed this time. Sometime soon, I'll ride across.
It turns out I'd been following the Cross-County Trail
This marker denotes a section of the "Cross-County Trail"--a loose connection of trails of various surfaces that runs roughly north-south through Fairfax County.
As a viable transportation corridor, the CCT leaves a lot to be desired. Where it crosses creeks, it does so at fords--heavy rains wash them out. In fact, heavy rains would make the roads impassable for me.
But today was such a beautiful day that I didn't care about any of that.
This bucolic scene is actually within earshot of the Capital Beltway
To the lake
Lake Accotink, two miles.
The dirt roads are actually very passable on 32mm tires, and there wasn't a lot of traffic on the trail. Even so, you can't let yourself be lulled into inattention:
I skidded to a halt in front of this downed tree. After considering my options, I shouldered my bike and scrambled over the tree. Safely clear of this obstacle, I pressed on towards the Lake Accotink Marina.
Crossing this bridge puts you into Lake Accotink Park.
The trail running to Lake Accotink climbs gently, winding around the lake, which is visible through the trees. I broke into the clear and carried my bike down to the lakeshore. It's not Lake Geneva, but it'll do for today.
Ducks in a row, Lake Accotink.
Flotsam, Lake Accotink
The "Marina," such as it is, is accessed by a bridge of questionable safety.
Wait, HOW many tons?
It was abuzz with activity. Kids playing; families renting paddleboats, and people setting off in kyacks.
These fine folks have forgotten their kyacks.
Lake Accotink Park looks like it would be a great place to take your kids. There's a mini-golf course, but, best of all, there's a merry-go-round!
Mine has two wheels.
I also got a sense of where I was.
I heard a locomotive horn blowing and turned around to catch a Manassas-line VRE train headed out towards Manassas:
Next stop: Rolling Road.
Turned around and spun back home at a rather more leisurely pace than I did on the way out. Since this was a "recovery" day, I spent some time admiring my surroundings.
A rocky ford over a dry streambed. It should have been rideable, but I walked it. When you're a dozen miles from home, it's a lot harder to sag it out.
Back up in Fairfax, I detoured on the sidewalk of Route 50, making the left up Rebel Run and using the "switchback" way up Old Lee Highway. Joined traffic and rolled along at a good 15 miles an hour over the top of the Old Lee Highway ridge. Traffic was mostly very polite, giving me just enough space as they passed by.
One ornery bastard in a red VW New Beetle Cabrio shouted at me. "BIKE PATH IS OVER THERE!" and pointed at the sidewalk. He passed me with just enough space. What is it about cars that makes people so goddamn aggressive? He didn't even need to slow down to pass me safely, and I daresay he was not delayed more than a few seconds.
Saw a cop settling in for a good afternoon's hunting round the corner from my house. I snapped him a salute, which he returned. A quick turn, and I'm home.
Totals
24.34 miles in 2 hours, 42 minutes makes a total average of 8.9 miles an hour. Damn me and my penchant for stopping to smell the roses!
Calories expended: 2509