Which Way, John?

John Smolenyak likes vertical miles, so when we set out today from Kingston I was expecting the worst of what everything north of Route 78 has to offer. Maybe it was because Theresa is doing a triathlon tomorrow, or because Tom was going to cut out early anyway, or because he didn’t want to scare anyone off, but for whatever reason Smolenyak went easy on us today.

First he skipped the Sourlands (if this were my ride Tom would never have let me hear the end of that) and then he was going to take us the easy way up to Round Valley Reservoir. But I asked for the long hill instead so we could get the view and some pictures.

After that I was sure he’d send us up Deer Hill or Cokesbury Road or something equally fear-instilling. But he didn’t. We went part of the way up that ridge and slid back down again, skipping the nasty stuff but missing a few of my favorite roads at the top. It would add too many miles, he said. As it was we ended with 75. A good, short ride for a change. (Yeah, right. If Mike B. had been feeling better we’d have started from home.)

Before I launch into the pictures, there’s one thing everyone here needs to know: the Stanton General Store is struggling to stay open. We need that store to stay open. Go there. Buy stuff. Do what Theresa and I did: get a second muffin to take home. And if you inadvertently use two paper cups for your coffee as I did, pay the extra quarter.

OK, I’ll shut up now and let the pictures tell the thousand words (Tom's are, of course, much better):

The South Branch of the Raritan River from River Road north of Neshanic in the morning:

The white speck in the first picture is a great egret. The green stuff in the last one is aquatic plants:







Round Valley Reservoir, with the sun shining, finally. The water was sparkling, but you can't see that here:







The steepness and height of the berm eludes the cell phone’s camera:









Smolenyak wears a troll he found on the road:




The Studdiford Road bridge is out but we go in for a closer look anyway:





From River Road in the afternoon we can see the Sourland Mountain in the distance:






The guys want me to take a picture of the antique Buick signs on Olive Street in Neshanic Station:





Mike hasn’t been over the refurbished Neshanic River bridge yet, so we remedy that. This is his reward for carrying my muffin home. We decide that “carrying a muffin” should be a euphemism for something. “He’s a real muffin-carrier.” I think it means putting up with chiding abuse from someone just for the attention. What do you think, Mike? (See? I made you carry my muffin just now.)




That’s Smolenyak explaining that there used to be a dam under the now-abandoned railroad bridge. Here’s what’s left of the dam:




There’s another railroad bridge downstream:




We pass this garage-barn thingy all the time on Amwell at River Road but this is the first time I’ve really noticed it:




And, finally, as we head south on Willow Road we parallel the Sourland Mountain again, from the other side. When the road bends west I snap a picture.