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March 18th, 2011
I have a feeling that this would’ve made for an artsy sort of photo, but Lucy and W had me in tow so I didn’t want to lag for too long…and despite that, I don’t think I would’ve known how best to shoot this. I have a feeling that it would entail getting closer to the ground. Hmmm.
November 3rd, 2010
Eh? What’s this, you ask. Well, yesterday evening I tagged along with roadguy* to check out some bike parts, which he found advertised on craigslist. After arriving at the seller’s Falls Church home, we spent a while walking Lucy around the neighborhood and photographing his garden while he accompanied another prospective buyer on a test ride. On his return, he led us into his basement where we—obviously, not slaughtered and stuffed into a freezer—were treated to a visual overload of everything bicycle. Having lived in the house for four years, it seemed he was busy for most of that time attaining, deconstructing and reconstructing bikes. He was now ready to move on to another city and wanted to lighten his load. While the walls were filled with frames, wheels, tires, gears, tools and even (not for sale) complete bicycles, all other space was also occupied…with saddles, pedals, derailleurs, chains, cables and the above-pictured forks. Considering the amount of stuff, you’d think that we’d have come away with more than a half-dollar-sized thingamajig…a brake hanger or stop or somethin’…a necessary piece for my first mountain bike, which roadguy is in the process of building. It was going for a buck, but, pitifully, among the three of us, there was neither a single nor change for a $10…so, the fellow biker, displaying the true spirit of most cyclists, let us have it free of charge. And I really should’ve waited and posted this on my cycling blog, which has been in the works for the past few months, ’cause I’m afeared that I’m boring you guys…more than usual. :o/ * A twist on one of my early monikers (which some of my oldest blogger friends might remember) for the purpose of identifying resident bike-maintenance-and-builder-guy, W, on my not-yet-up-and-running bike blog.
July 8th, 2010
Yeah, it’s hot out there. And for the most part, we’ve been ridin’ in it. So, why don’t I just give it a rest, given the ungodly temps? Well, in another week or two—when our truck comes out of “surgery”—I’ll probably be on my way to visit family for a week, where I won’t be able to ride at all. And I have to ride. Because I love food. Because I have a sweet tooth. Because the pounds ain’t comin’ off by themselves. And, oh yeah, I do love to ride. More likely, though, it has to do with the way I am. I’m a feast or famine kinda gal. You either can’t tear me away from something or I ignore it altogether. So… . Here sits my bike right off the W&OD trail, at our self-prescribed halfway mark. Weather-wise, there was a tradeoff today. Lower temperatures, higher humidity. But it was only an hour ride, on mostly flat terrain, so it wasn’t a killer. And there was plenty of water… .
May 26th, 2010
A conversation the other evening prior to our bike ride in a neighboring hood: ETH: “I don’t think I can keep up with you the whole way, so if you see me drop off, find me later along the loop*.” W: “Okay.” I managed to keep up with him for a few miles, tackling an awful hill (I’m not a climber), then continuing on one of our familiar routes for another mile or so before I started to lag behind, and the distance between us grew farther and farther. My last glimpse of him was a swoosh of black spandex and white tee as he turned the corner and spun out of site, heading for another round, possibly on that killer hill. So, I casually rolled toward the loop to get in whatever miles I could before he tired and came to retrieve me for the ride home. I rode the loop repeatedly, up its slight but manageable climb and down its precarious, yet exhilarating, hill. I racked up four or five miles (pocket change!) until…uh-oh…raining. So I stopped at one of the intersections, the one where we usually enter the loop, and I popped open my water bottle while I waited for him to arrive, expecting him to ride up at any moment. And he did. IN THE TRUCK. With Lucy in tow who was probably wondering, “Where we goin’?” And I’m thinkin’ you mean I’ve been PUTTING IN MILES, and you’ve been AT HOME?! W: “What happened? I waited for you at the light for a long time! I thought we were on our way home!” ETH: *see second paragraph above* *A one-mile-plus oval stretch with a good downhill and only one stop sign, suitable for mindless spinning. Can’t forget that stop sign, though. I’ve taken liberties with my title, which was inspired by John Gray’s book, “Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus,” and in doing so, I think I now qualify for the First Anniversary Giveaway over at Secret Forest. Please stop by and pay him a visit, if not to enter his contest, then at least to wish him a Happy Blogiversary and take a look around. Hurry, though, as I believe the contest ends this week.
May 5th, 2010
While on the bike path yesterday, I stopped alongside to practice panning with the camera, and I caught this commuter. W jokingly said that I should post this and tell everyone that it’s me. Hey! What’s that supposed to mean!? Actually, there’d be no mistaking the two of us…’cause my bike’s red…and hers is blue. There. Anyway, in the words of Judy Tenuta, “It could happen!” Yeah, I could look like this…someday, but maybe I never will. And that’s fine, ’cause my attitude toward biking is that—like the Chinese proverb says—the journey is the reward. Today’s ride may be on the Custis Trail that branches off of the W&OD, which we were on yesterday. It’s the route I took when I worked in DC…five years ago…and haven’t ridden since. It has three huge hills. And I’m lousy on hills. So, be prepared for more pics from alongside the path. 
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