"CAN WE GO BACK A DIFFERENT WAY?" my friend asked as we left the outdoor equipment dealer we each tend to view as the ultimate toy store.  "I'd been planning to do that anyhow", I replied.

It was a beautiful late-November day.  I wanted to show off my new touring bike to my friend, since he had been subjected to months of hearing me talk about it (whether he was interested or not).  We had agreed to get together for a shortish ride on the Saturday of Thanksgiving weekend, which featured a brilliant blue sky, temperatures that obviated the need for anything more than light tights, a base layer, and a windbreaker, and not much wind.

Our nominal objective was to visit the outdoor equipment emporium so that I could pick up a couple spare inner tubes; the new bike is fitted with tires of a size I've not previously had so my stock of tubes didn't include any of a suitable size.  The greater objectives were to get a bit of much-needed exercise, and even more simply to enjoy one another's company for a few hours.

The leg from his house to the store followed the "Bethesda Trolley Trail", a multi-use pathway following the historic line of the streetcar route that connected Bethesda, MD and Rockville from 1890 until about 1935.  It's long gone now, and nothing remains of the original infrastructure except a fading memory, but "the trolley trail" gets a great deal of use by the local citizenry.  It's a reasonably safe alternative to the local roadways, some of which are busy multi-lane arterials.  My friend, who is seriously visually impaired (legally blind, in fact) greatly appreciates such considerations.

With our shopping objective satisfied, we looped to the east and eventually picked up Beach Drive, the "spine" of Rock Creek Park.  Rock Creek Park follows Rock Creek (duh!) for 25 or 30 miles, from Lake Needwood in Rockville all the way to the mouth of the creek where it empties into the Potomac in Washington DC.  Long stretches of Beach Drive are closed to automobile traffic on weekends, making it a popular with cyclists, in-line skaters, and walkers.  There's also a creekside trail that runs between the creek proper and the roadway, but I prefer the road so that's what we followed.

In times gone by, we'd have exited Beach Drive onto the Georgetown Branch Trail.  That trail followed another former railway right-of-way but sadly (from our perspective) it's been closed to recreational use and is being redeveloped as a light rail commuter route.  I'll grudgingly admit that such a route is badly needed and will probably provide greater benefit to the community at large, but it's sorely missed as a cycle-friendly asset.

Instead, we followed Jones Bridge Road west, sometimes in the roadway and sometimes on the sidewalk.  On weekdays JBR is very busy and would make for unpleasant riding but on this day traffic was light, polite, and not a problem.

I got a little ahead of my friend (too far ahead for him to see me, with his limited vision) and crossed the street in the middle of a block in order to access the neighborhood street that would lead me back to his place.  Concerned about the dangers of making such a crossing on his own, he continued for a couple more blocks, to an intersection where there's a traffic signal that he knows will enable him to cross in safety, then doubled back.  Five minutes after we separated he rode up to where I had stopped to wait, then finished the final few yards to his house.

The day's ride left us pleasantly relaxed and in a great frame of mind.  It also convinced me, even more firmly than I already was, that my new bike is exactly what I'd planned and dreamed it would be.