It is the darnedest thing! I have had this particular blog in the back of my mind for quite a few days. I keep thinking about it every day, but I cannot get myself into the proper state of mind to write it. There are so many distractions. I am just going to have to force myself to eject the words out of the brain in free form when I have a little bit of free time, and then read it all back later to see if it makes sense.
It had to do with my bike ride last Wednesday. It was another one of those rides that required some extra motivation on my part to get it going. I am finding it hard to maintain a regular schedule. I am too good at finding excuses. It had rained the previous day. The trail was going to be messy. Perhaps I should stay home. That was my excuse this time.
But I found a way. I decided that I would ride on the paved trails in Virginia so that I could avoid the mud and potholes of the C&O canal. In order to do this, I would park the car on Canal Road at the Chain bridge, on the outskirts of Washington, DC, and then head south on my bike on the towpath into Georgetown. I would then cross the Potomac river into Virginia on the Key Bridge. I was then going to ride south on the Mt. Vernon Trail. I did not know how far I would ride on this trail, but I knew that if I rode to the end, it would end up being a somewhat tougher ride than usual.
Things went according to plan as I rode into Virginia somewhat early in the morning. As I crossed the Key Bridge, I could see and feel the rush hour traffic headed into Washington, DC. This was was the scene on the Roslyn side of the bridge.
I got on to the Mt. Vernon trail at this point and started pedaling away beside the river, passing Roosevelt Island early in this section. There was a very short stop for pictures at Gravelly Point Park. There was already a steady stream of planes headed into National Airport.
The airport was busy. Both runways were in use.
The Mt. Vernon trail passes under the Woodrow Wilson bridge just beyond the town of Alexandria. This bridge carries Interstate 495, the Capital Beltway, over the Potomac river. The approach ramps of the bridge pass over Jones Point Park. The Mt. Vernon trail snakes its way between the massive piers of the bridge at this point. There is a lot of open space under the bridge and people of all ages hang out there – fishing by the river, playing basketball, biking around, etc… It seems to be a meeting place for groups of mothers with babies.
Most often I bike right through Jones Point Park without stopping. But this time, an unexpected thought crossed my mind just as I was headed out of the park. At that point of the ride I was thinking to myself that I really did not care about the distance I covered that day. So why not take some time to get off the trail and explore some of the smaller, less well-defined, paths that I had seen in the past while riding through the park. It was a sudden decision. It also turned out to be a great decision!
Riding along a smaller trail, I ended up at a spot where I began to see boundary markers beside the trail, with signs on these markers for the District of Columbia, Maryland, and Virginia. These markers were lined up in straight lines, with the black line on their tops indicating the actual boundary line between two jurisdictions.
There was also a lighthouse beside the river, and a few wayside exhibits around it.
It turned out that I was at the tip of the area of land that originally defined the southern limit of Washington, DC! These newer boundary markers were meant to mark the historical boundaries of the District of Columbia. The history is very interesting, and you can read more about it here. Essentially, the District of Columbia was originally conceived of as a diamond shaped area of land with sides of 10 miles each, with a total area of 100 square miles. The land for DC was going to be obtained from both Virginia and Maryland. In the end, the land that Virginia was going to give up in this regard was taken back. (This covered about 31 square miles.) This was called a “retrocession”.
Another interesting fact is that when the original area for DC was being mapped out, boundary markers were set into the ground at one mile intervals along the sides. Most of these boundary markers still exist, including the one at the southern tip, the place I was at!
Unfortunately, I did not think about the significance and existence of the original boundary markers while I was in the park. It was only later that I read that the original southern boundary marker for Washington, DC, was actually embedded in the seawall in front of the lighthouse. It is something that I will stop to investigate further the next time I am in the area. It is located on the right side of this picture of the lighthouse, under a cover of plastic. It is next to the wayside exhibit and in front of the steps, below the level of the ground.
I took pictures of a couple of the wayside exhibits that provided some historical information. (You can click on the pictures to open them up in bigger size.)
I continued my bike ride past Jones Point Park. At this point, I was within reachable distance of Mt. Vernon and the end of the Mt. Vernon Trail. The temptation of complete the trail was too much to overcome. So, I biked to the end. It was not the optimal decision.
The ride began to take its toll on the way back. Basically, I was retracing my path. The ride was beginning to feel somewhat more mechanical at this point as I endeavored to keep a steady pace. It became more about the challenge of the ride. I was even beginning to pick up speed as a matter of course. My mindset for the ride had shifted. This is typically what happens to me when I bike long distances. It is more relaxed in the beginning, and then, bit by bit, it becomes more intense.
I began to tire without even being too aware of it. I was also running out of water. I stopped at Fletchers Cove, about a mile short of Chain Bridge, the place where I had parked the car. My thigh muscles cramped up immediately when I got off the bike. I had pushed myself too hard.
I was able to buy a bottle of Gatorade at the concession stand at Fletchers Cove. More than half the bottle went down the throat immediately. After a few minutes, I was able to get back on the bike and continue riding to the car. I had no further issues. Because of the long stop at Fletchers Cove, I had also managed to alter my mindset, and I was able to ride at a more relaxed pace.
In the end, I had ridden over 44 miles. I have ridden longer distances than this in the past, but under different circumstances. I was probably also in better shape when I did longer distances!
That is my story for the day, and I am sticking to it!
Splattered Brains 