Day 17: Tuesday, July 1, 2003

I placed a telephone call to Theresa Savage, my prime contact at Grace Vydac, with the intention of leaving a voicemail message to let her know I had come by but hadn't stopped to visit. I actually believed Theresa was not in town. She had been in Europe on business for a couple of weeks, and my understanding was that she planned to take some vacation time and not return to the office until a few days later, so not in sync with my schedule. I was surprised when Theresa answered and told me that, in fact, she was back in the office. She invited me to visit. Having come all this way, and since there were several people at Grace Vydac that I had not met in person even though I worked with them long distance, primarily via internet, I decided it would be a good idea to track back up to Columbia. I arranged a lunchtime meeting.

I cleaned the bugs off the bike, packed up, and rode back north through DC beltway traffic and up US 29 to Columbia for lunch. This time I knew the way, although I did get off 29 one exit too soon, believing I could get to Grace's HQ faster that way, only to find myself lost in a maze of residential dead ends that required me to go back to 29 and follow the more classical route. I was only a half hour late. It was fun to see Grace's headquarters. The division I do project work for, Grace Vydac, was actually a small founder-owned company in Hesperia, CA, that was a client of mine for several years before it was acquired in early 2001 by W.R. Grace & Co. Since then, although a few things have changed, I have managed to make myself useful enough to get a fairly steady flow of work from them. I met several people with whom I had contact remotely but not in person. It is always helpful to be able to put a face with the voice or email message. We went out for a good lunch. Then I bid adeiu and blasted off back down US 29 to DC.

I decided since I was in the vicinity of the Nation's Capital I should probably do the tourist thing. I rode down Wisconsin Avenue through Bethesda, where I used to call on the National Institutes of Health as a salesperson back in the 1970s, through Georgetown, where I liked to stay at the Georgetown Inn, and down M Street to Pennsylvania Avenue and central DC. I circled around the Washington Monument and parked for a while to walk around. The National Park Service was apparently getting ready for the Independence Day holiday, and there were lines of porta-potties all around. Finding myself in need of relief, I walked to one of these lines and found that all the portables belonged to some contractor and were padlocked. A few hundred yards away at one corner of the green was another group of portables that appeared to be a different color, therefore perhaps a different vendor. I walked to them. They were also padlocked. I finally walked to a grove of trees and contributed to the environment. I find it incredible that at a National Park facility like the Washington Monument, swarming with tourists on a warm sunny day in mid-summer, there were no useable sanitary facilities. Sort of a national insult. When visiting supossedly "backward" eastern-block countries in Europe ten years ago it was easier to find public restrooms, although TP was another matter. Probably some sort of security issue here in Washington, DC, 2003. In the interest of national security, in America's capital you must pee on a tree.

I took a few pictures, then mounted my bike and circled for a few minutes trying to locate the Lincoln Memorial. Frustrated and lost, I finally found a bridge across the Potomac and headed back into Virginia and south on I-95.

I rode past Stafford, past Fredericksburg, through Richmond, and about dusk found myself approaching Petersburg, VA. At this point, it started to rain lightly. I got off the interstate highway, circled for a few minutes, and located an inexpensive motel for the night. After unloading the bike, I went out again just long enough to find some dinner, then back to the motel. The room I had been assigned was a handicap room. The last available, I suppose. But the ramp outside made it easy to pull my bike up on the walkway right outside my room under a balcony, which protected it from the rain. I turned in for the night.