The weather finally turned right, and so last Saturday I extracted my bicycle from the back of the garage where it had been wintering quite contently and took it out for a ride.  From now until about the first frost, I will try to get out at least once a week.  Usually, riding around the neighborhood for an hour or so serves its purposes—clearing the mind, exercising the legs, or checking out other people’s lawns to make sure I am keeping up properly with the Jones’.  But sometimes, particularly on warm spring mornings, there is only once place I want to ride: the W&OD trail. 

For those unfamiliar with the trail—except maybe for the many instances you have stopped your car to let flocks of bikers, walkers and rollerbladers cross over—it’s essentially a 100 foot wide swath of nature that runs 45 miles from Alexandria through Leesburg to Purcellville.  It’s a great ride because you don’t have to dodge cars—too much—the scenery is never boring, and there are loads of places to stop for food, drinks, or other pleasant diversions.

I encourage those who haven’t been on the trail, or perhaps even been on a bicycle for a while, to try it out.  Here are a few (perhaps) helpful comments for anyone so inclined:

1) Don’t be intimidated by those guys who go whizzing by as if they are in the Tour De France.  In their minds, they are.  (If you listen carefully, many times they are babbling softly to themselves in French)  Let them enjoy themselves; remind yourself that the faster you get there, the faster it’s over.  So what’s the point in rushing?

2) You don’t need to wear ‘bike shorts’.  You can ride perfectly well without them.  If you must—and I’ll admit I do simply because they have strategic padding that makes me less uncomfortable after a long ride—you can wear a pair of baggy shorts over them.  The same goes for the shoes that bolt you to the bike.  Not really necessary, although they do seem to be a two-for-one package with the bike shorts.

3) You don’t need to spend a lot on a bicycle.  In theory, people can pay big bucks for the latest technology that allows them to ride very fast.  For my answer to that, see number 1.  In fact, the bike I use is very old; it was a gift from my wife on our anniversary more than 25 years ago.  It was built by Peugeot, a now defunct French bike maker, making it somewhat of a one-of-a-kind experience.  Every time something breaks down I have to search for replacement parts that ‘hopefully might’ fit.  One bicycle repair guy explained to me that of all the bikes that use non-standard sized parts, Peugeots use the most non-standard.  You would have to pry me off that bike before I let it go. 

All in all, a view I could get used to.

4) Stop along the way.  In the early morning, deer like to gather at some of the streams that cross the trail.  My personal favorite place for snack/break is around Mile 30, a few miles east of Leesburg, at the Quarry overlook.  And although I have not confirmed this fact, I am convinced that at no point along the trail are you ever more than a few miles from ice cream.  Sure, you can carry supplies, and since you are riding, a little extra weight doesn’t bother you much, but still, it’s ice cream.

5) Maybe consider carrying the necessary equipment and learn how to change a flat tire out there.  This may sound like a bother, but speaking from experience, when you get a flat—and eventually you will—you can either call someone to come and get you, an embarrassment to be sure, walk home, which may add a few extra hours to your outing, or learn a skill that is not as hard as it sounds and later in the telling may sound cooler than it is

I hope that some of you will try out the bike trail.  By the way, if you want to pass a slower rider from behind, the proper protocol is to give a little warning by announcing ‘On your left’, an event I seem to encourage frequently.

For more information including detailed maps with entry points, distances, elevations and interactions with local roads, see a great website maintained by the Friends of the W&OD at http://www.wodfriends.org/