The initial phase of my travel started in the same way the just-completed trip to Germany had ended: Severely delayed flights meant that I didn't get to Baltimore's BWI until well after midnight on the Friday two days after my return from Europe. Seriously, these delays are a bit tough to stomach, even though the delay and subsequent rebooking meant an additional upgrade to First. The reality is, at some point the wine starts to taste stale and you just want to get to your bed. No such luck at BWI: First I had to Uber to the hotel, and then it took 20 minutes to get my room assignment straightened out. That's not what you like to deal with at 1:45 a.m.
My sleep was rudely terminated at 6:00 a.m. when City of Baltimore workers outside of the Hilton, the host hotel, started up their machinery to do some urgently needed pipe work—so urgent that they repeated the drill on Sunday and Monday at the same time, Labor Day non-withstanding. It all was a bit annoying. Not able to sleep any longer I got up and assembled my road Ritchey, the bike that had delivered me into the crash that had destroyed my hip last year on March 1. I hadn't ridden that bike since then, but one has to venture back, right?
After breakfast and my touching base with the organizer and collecting my race credentials I had a chance to go for a first shake-down cruise in Baltimore before I had to attend an afternoon meeting. Well, that ride told me that riding in Maryland wasn't going to be the cakewalk that I had envisioned: Short, punchy climbs, horrible street surfaces, and oppressive humidity made me feel sorry for the pro peloton that was going to tackle similar roads the next day. As always, the Locus app helped me find not only a suitable loop but also a way back to the Hilton, but when I got back after only 19 miles I was pretty fried.
That evening, after the meeting and without further obligations, I ventured out on the town on foot. I hit two microbreweries—Suspended Brewing and Checkerspot Brewing—and had an interesting conversation with locals at the first (and recommended) brewery. Kizzy and Joy, a local couple, told me about housing woes and rental conditions in the general Washington D.C. area (where they used to rent), and my eyes almost fell out when I heard what one has to pay for a place down there; comparatively, Baltimore is a bargain, and they now can afford to buy a place and pay less. As always, brewpubs are a good source of information, and when the beer is as good as it was at Suspended the fun is doubled. Checkerspot was less friendly and didn't make much of an impression on me.
After Sunday morning's early pipe-dragging and breakfast buffet I still had half of the day for myself before my duties called me to the finish line. It was a sunny day, and I embarked on a 30-mile loop south of the city, passing by the harbor, traversing blue-collar neighborhoods, and riding though leafy estates that definitely cost more than $120,000. It was easy to tell where the have-nots and the haves live, simply by the condition of the roads. Gees, rarely have I seen worse pavement than this! I take back everything I have ever said about East Lubbock.
The race had started around 1:30 p.m. north of Baltimore, out in the county; the organizers apparently didn't want to piss off the locals and instead intended for them to return from church before the road closures took effect. The race had attracted various Pro Tour teams (such as Trek-Segafredo, EF Education, and Israel-Premier Tech) but also much lesser-known Continental teams, and the course and the difference in ability soon took their toll. After less than half an hour the race was totally blown up, and by the time the first group entered the first of four 12-K finish circuits the time gap to the first chasers of that group of about 15 was in excess of five minutes. The road in downtown Baltimore had been patched with blobs of asphalt until Saturday afternoon (!!!), and somehow there weren't any mishaps that I witnessed. My volunteer colleagues did a great job after I had extensively briefed them, and by about 7:30 p.m. I was back on the way to the hotel, my work mostly done.
And that was the end of the inaugural Baltimore Cycling Classic for me, except for some paperwork and sending in my bill. The fun was about to start.
The area has large corn fields, and Jared later told me about the various types (mostly for human consumption) and some of the history, which of course I promptly forgot. In addition to large pastures (oddly, one hardly sees bovines) there are extensive fields planted with sorghum, which at this time of the year already has taken on an autumnal reddish color. Add to that the wooded areas, one-lane bridges, curvy country byways, and general quiet and you have a cyclist's paradise. Traffic was very light, and most of the few cars out between hamlets were in not much of a rush.
Just a quick explanation of the Snickerdoodles moniker for the loop: At about the half-way point in Hampstead there's an eponymous small bakery cum hipster coffee shop that the local riders like to frequent, and I have to say it was nice to hang out with free Wi-Fi and a good cup of joe while licking my wounds. And as Jared had said, from there it was mostly downhill back down to Hunt Valley. 
Good riding up there, for sure. But as I previously said, the weather didn't cooperate the entire time, and on my rain day I decided to drive back down to Baltimore and visit the National Aquarium. Many moons ago, Judy and I had flown out to the area, motivated at least partially by the prospect of visiting the NA. We had been floored by this amazing facility, and so it was only fitting to go back. When even with the senior discount you have to shell out $35 for a ticket you know the place better be good! If you find yourself in the area, forego other expenses if you have to and by all means do visit the National Aquarium.
New to me was a temporary exhibit dedicated to jellies, and I can't tell you how mesmerizing these odd creatures are. I had once seen an amazing jelly-fish exhibit in the Monterrey aquarium in California, and this one was just as spectacular, if not more so. There is something otherworldly about these creatures, and when you read how long they've been around and how they have explosively been taking over much of our oceans over the past half century you start having some funny ideas if you're a reader of good sci-fi literature. Of course, the main exhibits of the aquarium are top-notch as well, so much so that I started to run close to maxing out my 4-hour paid street parking time....
That trip down to the city of Baltimore also gave me a chance to visit one more brewpub. There's only one thing I regret about going to the Ministry of Brewing: It should have been microbrewery #500 or some other memorable number instead of #431. How often do you go into a former church, with all its religious icons still on the walls, that has been repurposed as a brewery? I mean, pews to fill in for chairs at the tables? Fermentation tanks where the altar used to be? Wow. I guess even a rainy day can be A-OK.
For Friday, Jared had taken off from work after he had seen the weather forecast. And for once the meteorologists were correct: Ample sun, clear skies, no pollution, and temps in the mid- to high-70s made for the best possible conditions for our ride. Add to that the post-Labor Day absence of tourists, and the stage was set for a memorable day on the bikes.
From the house we rode a couple of miles to the nearest metro station and commuted 10 miles or so to Lincoln Station. From there we went on a convoluted tour of inner D.C., taking in all the sights while riding mostly on bike trails or bike routes. I had been once to our national capital, but seeing this grandeur, the immensity of the layout in such fine weather, with skies spanning forever, the Potomac at our side, man, this was impressive. Truly impressive.
We navigated partly by the seat of our pants (mainly Jared's), partly with the help of Locus to expand our loop that encompassed the must-sees and then led us farther afield and even across the Potomac into Virginia. I insisted on clunking up the stairs to the Lincoln Memorial in our road shoes, and I had to stop here, there, and everywhere for photo ops. Jared not only was very patient but enjoyed himself as tourist and tourist-guide. As he would later say, he had been waiting for such an opportunity, and when it presented itself he knew how to make the very best out of it.
Before heading back to University Park via the metro we had a couple of pints at Port City Brewing, a friendly microbrewery that was teeming with locals enjoying the perfect day. Seriously, it doesn't get much better than that.
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