On My Route

Just one month ago I made a life changing decision.  I moved in with my boyfriend.  In fact, this was not so much the life changing decision everyone told me it would be but it was a commute-changing decision.  Given he was already a home owner with room for me, my shoes and my fluffy little cat, the decision to cohabitate in his condo was a relatively simple one.  This decision did alter my commute from a one mile trip across Capitol Hill to a seven mile journey through the city.  Public transportation would mean a bus and two lines on the metro at a cost of about $5 per day.  Driving would mean about 45 minutes each way sitting in traffic with other short tempered commuters expending gas and incurring wear and tear on my car at a likely cost of several years off my life.  Biking quickly became the best possible option.

Above is the aforementioned fluffy little cat.  Those are not the aforementioned shoes.

We live in Glover Park not far from the Georgetown line and I work – as previously mentioned – on Capitol Hill. While one might expect “The Hill” to be the hilly part of my journey, it is in fact Georgetown that tests my quads and hamstrings each day.  In the morning I zip through the quiet streets of Georgetown, frequently gripping my brakes to avoid careening into oncoming traffic at breakneck speeds.  Once I hit Rock Creek Park the trail is narrow and I join a roving peloton of other DC bike commuters.  It can be a little squirrely across Virginia Ave where cars are not as happy to “share the road” with bi-wheeled vehicles.  But then I ride past the White House, cross in front of the Washington Monument and hit my favorite stretch of road – Jefferson Drive.  Jefferson is a quiet, flat street that runs along the National Mall with only a few lights.  It is the perfect place for "opening it up" and racing my fellow bikers.  I love passing people on that road.  Sometimes I feel guilty passing people who don't know I'm racing them.  But usually I just enjoy smoking my unknowing competition.

The way home is essentially the same.  The significant difference is that those hills which on the way to work had me gripping my brakes are instead the test of my quads and hamstrings.  On those first few rides home I had to crank my gears all the way down.  Twice.  The gears were so low on the long hill up from Georgetown that when forced to stop I could hardly get going again because the pedals would just spin.  But, after a month of riding this route my legs are stronger and I can now keep my front chain ring on the highest gear the whole way home.

A shot I took earlier this week of the Washington Monument which I pass on my route.