Son of a... ditch

I awoke this morning to the chirping if various woodland animals and smiled. After solving the mystery of yesterday's not one but TWO flat tires (I had apparently ordered tubes to fit my previous tires rather than the ones I currently had on -- it's a sordid tale that I won't get into here, but it took me a while to figure out), I scarfed my last pb&j, loaded everything up, and Ollie and I headed out, bound for Antietam.

Now, upon perching on the saddle, I found myself muttering a plea: please god, no flats today. Funny how biking gives one a new perspective on things -- god and nature included. (Dad, I can almost see you smiling.) Well, there were no flats, but the day was not without incident. Oh no, I lost my balance, the bike computer, and about half an hour right around milemarker 43 when Ollie and I found ourselves hurtling headlong into a ditch.

You see, while I have been trying to bulk up, Ollie has worked to trim a few inches, and I am forever adjusting my estimates to account for this. My calculation of the trajectory and speed needed to navigate the narrow, uphill passage around a metal pole did not, for example, accurately account for Ollie's rear panniers this morning. She's got curves, what can I say? Well, luckily our spill was cushioned by a nice bed of... nettles. Sure, it could have been worse. Rocks, maybe, or a bear pit. Or poison ivy. I'm just a bit scratched up and there are a few small bruises. And I had to make a few minor adjustments on Ollie (mostly involving duct tape and her fenders), but we're both okay.

Wear a helmet, people, even on a trail. I'm talking to you, little brother (never mind that you would probably not have miscalculated on this one, mr. engineer).

Ollie and I are doing quite well after a fortuitous call to my friend Meredyth set us up with Jim and Norleen, friends of hers here in Shephardstown, WV. Which is fortunate because there was no food or water for miles around the Antietam Creek campsite we had planned on staying at. And I need food. After a delightful dinner with some friends of theirs, we came back to the house and after some talk of camping and farmers markets, Jim not only talked me into carrying a lightweight camping stove, he gave me one made out of a beer can and showed me how to use it. We practiced lighting it and everything. (Mike, you must be grinning from ear to ear right about now.) He even gave me a few premeasured bags of dinner goodies. I'm now only mildly nervous about the stove, which, incidentally, runs on Everclear. (College flashback, anyone?)

And so it's getting late. Time for me to catch the maximum amount of sleep possible not in a tent....

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Picnic update

So in just a few hours (too few, I think at times, and a moment later think too many -- that's the adrenaline, I suspect) the bikeable feast will begin!

For those who are thinking of meeting us at the picnic site around lunchtime -- noon-ish -- let's meet at the Great Falls Tavern Visitors Center (between locks 19 and 20), just shy of mile marker 15 on the C&O tow path. There looks to be a car entrance near Rte 189 (Falls Road). It may be a bit later, depending on how quickly I move with all of this stuff and how my sacrifice to the eggbeater pedal gods works out. What? You can't tell me I have to leave my complete collection of antique anvils and lead bricks behind.... Sure, they add a little weight, but next to the cooking stuff I have with me, they seem to take up less space. (How do I pack for a year on a bike, you ask? Many, many times. Luckily the dancing shoes still made the cut.)

I'm just doing a few final adjustments on Ollie now. She's looking good. Steady. Confident.

See you cyclists at Thompson's boat house around 9, and the rest of you at Great Falls!
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B'gawk

I seem to be prone to confessing my bike-related shortcomings these days. (Maybe it's that Catholic upbringing.) Anyway, the clipless pedals came in last Friday. So I have them in my possession. I finally went with eggbeaters with a small platform. I kind of like the kitchen-related name -- good call, Sheffy. Also, perhaps more importantly, I've heard they are harder to use at first but ultimately easier to clip in and out of. I kind of think of it like learning to drive a car: I wish I'd learned to drive standard shift from the beginning, rather than 10 years later when I was living in Mexico. (Incidentally, I think my boyfriend at the time teaching me how to drive it was the straw that broke the camel's back of our relationship, but I digress.) But I eventually learned to drive my little Nissan Tsuru all around Mexico and loved it. So I decided to skip the SPDs and go straight for the top. They look amazing... in the box. I've been trying to keep them out of Ollie's view in the apartment, though. You can probably guess by now that I have not yet tried them. B'gawk.

I had nicknamed my friend Ronn "B'gawk" one evening after he refused to drive down the back alley behind my apartment after dinner to drop me off. He was scared of the rats. (What were they going to do, jump in the car?) So I mocked him, perhaps unfairly. But now the shoe is on the other foot: I am the chicken. Have I even taken the clipless pedals out of the box? Negative. I mean, I can't ride with them if I don't have the corresponding shoes yet.... So I suppose you could say the shoe is not even on the foot.

Okay, I'm stalling. I have been avoiding getting the shoes. What can I say? B'gawk. Maybe I'll try them out when I get to Pittsburgh.

We plant because we love it

So this morning, after a quick breakfast at Baltimore's hip Common Ground cafe, Rebecca, co-founder of the fabulous City Blossoms program, helped me toss Ollie in the back of her truck and we headed across town to check out the impressive efforts of the girls at Garrison Middle School.



Clearly there were examples of artistry and creativity all around, from the brightly painted tires recycled as bulb planters to the plastic soda bottles finding a second life as makeshift mini greenhouses. I loved the overt joy and excitement that informed every moment of the discussion with Rebecca as she showed me around the site and told me about the amazing Growing Girls and Gardens program that was empowering young women in the community. From planting and harvesting vegetables and herbs, to creating a welcoming communal green space, to producing their own line of "Nature's Beauty" herbal products that they then sold (and quickly sold out of!) at the Waverly farmer's market last winter, Rebecca has seen the group of 6th-8th grade girls grow up before her eyes.

Gardening has the potential to open the door to so many things: "Maybe they'll think differently about food, about seeking out healthy choices. Or maybe they will understand how their actions impact the environment. More than anything, though, I hope that their involvement with these projects helps the girls to realize that they can make positive changes in the world around them -- make things more beautiful, change things that are wrong, stand up for their ideas." In a single breath, Rebecca had articulated so much of the appeal of gardening with youth and the potential it holds.

There is some talk of the girls selling some of the seeds that they collected and dried from last years flower and vegetable crops. Stay tuned to the City Blossoms news to see when and where you can get them and help support this exciting work!

Full disclosure

I just made it back from Baltimore a few hours ago. Now that I'm home safe, in the spirit of full disclosure, I feel that I should admit a few things.

While I did successfully make it to Baltimore yesterday with few mishaps (sure, there was flat number eight and I got a little lost on Pratt Street trying to find my way to Trent and Holly's place which probably added another three or four miles onto the trip), I did get a bit of a later start than anticipated, so Mitch and I actually took the metro to Greenbelt and biked from there, shaving about 12 miles off the total distance. Mitch caught the train back from BWI. Still, it worked out to about 43 miles, all told, for me. I slept like a rock last night. Of course, a nice dinner, a couple beers, and a hot shower didn't hurt anything, either.

Today, I made it back from Baltimore, leaving a day earlier than anticipated in an attempt to beat tomorrow's rain. I did not, however, bike the whole way back. I did (magically) make it out of Baltimore without any trouble. In fact, I was surprised how much easier it was than coming in. But boy did I get lost after that. Must've been the hubris again. I took something like an eight-mile long wrong turn around BWI. I met a nice older biking couple who joined me for a couple of miles until we reached the MD Dept of Transportation Office, where we hoped they might be able to, you know, help me map a way back to where I needed to be. The security guard was very nice, providing me with not only a Maryland state map, but also some much needed Kleenex (I was getting a little sniffly). Bolstered by the confidence of a newly highlighted map, I set out again, only to wind up lost twice more around Arundel Mills mall. (Sidenote: mall-crazed shoppers in SUVs are the most mean-spirited, rushed drivers ever. You'd think they were leaning on their horns and swerving past you to get to something more important than a red light 20 feet ahead and a 10% off sale on snuggies.)

I'd called on tech support a couple of times for some navigational advice, but after nearly five hours on the road for my second straight day, with wind and rain picking up, I found my way to a Post Office, called my friends Tori and Rudy, and pulled out a bottle of water and a sandwich. I'd finally found an intersection I recognized from yesterday, and it was one that suggested about another two and a half hours of biking to get home. After nearly 35 miles today (about 15 of them in circles and on detours), I remembered that in fact I am not too proud to call for help: Rudy came to the rescue and drove Ollie and I home in the Prius.

Since I'm baring everything, I feel somehow also compelled to admit that when I went by the shop on Friday to put on my new fenders, tires, and rear rack, I put the rack on incorrectly not once, not twice, not even three times, but four. And the fenders? Really, I have to use *bolt cutters* to make them fit? (It was my first time wielding bolt cutters and I think I quite impressed the high school kid who was standing nearby trying to regale me with tales of his stunt biking.) But I ask you, what kind of biking gear comes with simply a package of nuts and bolts and weirdly shaped metal things but no instructions? Oh, I finally got the rack on. And that sucker's never coming off.

Now that I'm done ranting, time to get to the good stuff in my next post: the amazing school and community gardening going on in Baltimore....

Ocho

Mitch was kind enough to join me for today's trial run to Baltimore. Ollie was in great form for the first 8 miles. Then there was the blowout. Mitch named it: Ocho. Yep, number eight. On the new rear tire. Oddly, the tire remains in tact. I am starting to wonder if I got a little pump happy and *overinflated.* Hmmm. No other major incidents to report other than the general lack of bathrooms along the way. (I may not have camped much, but I know how to pee in the woods.)

So, yes, Baltimore: city of the Orioles, the most obnoxious drivers ever (those guys on Washington Blvd make DC cabbies look like girlscouts), and some of the best coconut sorbet ever (E61 beckoned to me like a lighthouse amid the rising hunger storm, and after I scarfed a cone the owners filled me in on a few of the local farmers markets tomorrow - score!).

Tomorrow looks to be gorgeous as well. I think I'll see how Ollie and I feel in the morning to see if we'll bike back tomorrow or rest a day....
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A Bikeable Fiesta (Happy Hour Edition)

So, I realize that there are a lot of folks I have managed to have over for dinner, go on a ride around town with, meet with for a beer or a pot of tea in recent weeks. And yet, somehow there are a number of people who I worry I may not see again before I head out on the C&O trail on the 26th. Some of you will be joining me on the first leg of the trip to Great Falls, but too many others are not bikers, will be out of town, don't have a bike....

Thus: Come and bid farewell to Ollie and Ibti over a pint of good beer at one of our favorite neighborhood watering holes!

Meet at the Wonderland Ballroom for happy hour on Thursday, April 23rd. (Right on the corner of 11th and Kenyon, just a few blocks from the Columbia Heights metro.)

The happy hour special ($2 off all draft beer and a few other goodies, including $6 Delirium Tremens) runs from 5-8pm. I will likely be there well past 8pm, but the cheaper beer may not be. There's food, too, including some veggie options, so not having eaten after work is no excuse. (I'm talking to you, Jeanne.)

I'll also be handing out limited edition "Cookmarks" -- ABF bookmarks with illustrations by my dad and original recipes designed by me and tested in the capable kitchen of my friend Beth in North Dakota -- to any who care to make a donation to ABF. (I'll be mailing out cookmarks to those of you who have been so kind as to donate online already -- thank you!)