Time on bike: about 3 hours, 30 minutes
Maximum speed: I have no idea
Roads taken: W&OD Trail, Four Mile Run Trail, Mt. Vernon Trail
Places stopped: Along the Mt. Vernon Trail (for water), at the end of the Mt. Vernon Trail (to turn around), at the field by JFK Airport (to rest and watch the planes take off).
I'm writing this a week after the fact and before I came up with the idea for this blog, so please excuse my lack of details.
Last Saturday, I woke up determined to go on a morning adventure. I had plans for the afternoon, but in no way did I want to waste my precious weekend. I hate sitting around, especially at my apartment. I've found that it never leads to anything good — too much eating, watching TV, etc...
So I got on the Trek 520 — which, by the way, doesn't ride quite as smoothly as it did a year ago and might need some minor repairs, but it's still my baby; I can't imagine life without it! — and took back roads for less than a mile to reach the W&OD Trail, which is a 45-mile trail that heads west all the way to Purcellville, VA.
After a quick mile or two heading east on the W&OD, it became 4 Mile Run trail at an intersection. I biked alongside a small, stagnant (and kind of smelly) river, riding up and down minor dips in the trail, until I reached the Mt. Vernon Trail intersection, which gave me the option of either heading north toward D.C. or south toward Alexandria and, ultimately, Mt. Vernon.
The Mt. Vernon trail is 18 miles long and mostly hugs the Potomac River. I was excited about some riverside riding on a beautiful, but not too hot, day, so I began riding south on the trail. Soon I reached Alexandria, and the trail briefly became Union Street, which runs through the Old Town section of the city in which my Dad grew up. Old Town is a bit touristy, but it's also beautiful and is filled with waterside parks as well as a harbor from which cruises up and down the Potomac take off.
I continued south, briefly losing my way near a bridge ramp that I had to take west to find the actual trail — not just a road. But from there, I was on the trail for the final 10-plus miles or so. And it was beautiful and diverse. At first, I hugged the river, riding through marshes on wooden bridges and passing through all kinds of ecosystems.
Then the trail headed a bit inland, crossing the scenic George Washington Memorial Parkway — at least as far as "highways" are concerned — and I enjoyed shade provided by overarching trees. It was an extremely sunny day, but I had no worries about getting burnt because of the tree-covered trail. It made it seem like it was 6 p.m. in the evening rather than noon.
Just a couple miles before Mt. Vernon, the trail crossed back below the Parkway and wended along the river. I passed by an outdoor wedding — who, seriously, wouldn't have an outdoor ceremony? If I ever get married and the bride's cool with it, I'm definitely getting hitched outside — and took a moment to look out over the river, which seemed peaceful and was pretty quiet. There were no sailboat races going on. Not a lot of action.
The trail had been mostly flat the entire way, but it got a little hilly — not much, I must say (however, remember that I'm writing from the perspective of someone who climbed some outrageous hills in Northern California) — toward the end, and I downshifted to wind my way up the trail for the final mile or so.
And then I reached a parking lot. And that, well, was it. I guess I could have explored the other end of the lot, which was packed with cars and bike racks — the trail was fairly crowded with bikers of, it seemed, all levels — but I had a feeling there wasn't much to see. I was at the end of the trail. Period. So I lied down in the grass, resting and relaxing for a few moments, and then got back on the 520.
The ride north was pleasant and seemed to go quicker than the ride south — isn't the way back always faster? I didn't retrace my ride, completely, however. I had to finish the Mt. Vernon trail, so I continued north at the 4 Mile Run intersection. And upon reaching JFK, I stopped for a few minutes to enjoy the sights of a park that is literally right next to the airport.
It's the coolest thing, because you can lie in the grass and watch airplanes fly directly overhead. I snapped a few pictures of planes zooming by, and then I continued north. The trail hugs the river, passing by several scenic outlooks with great views of the District and all the bridges heading into Washington, DC — giving plenty of opportunities for bicyclists to get into the city — until it reaches the Key Bridge, the northernmost bridge, where I usually make my way into D.C. when commuting to work.
On this afternoon, however, it was time to head home. So I hooked a left away from the bridge at Wilson Boulevard, and after climbing three decent hills and a few miles, I was back in Ballston, the section of Arlington where I reside.
And I'd biked a solid 43.2 miles. It wasn't a memorable ride, but not a bad start to my season of adventures, either.
Many more to come...
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