Seeing the Reservoir

Logo by AlysaErin at fiverr.com, by way of Plain Jim

24 June 2012

Boy, was the snark flying today.  That's what happens, I guess, when 11 riders make it through the Route 12/523 traffic circle in Flemington at 8:30 on a Sunday morning.

We were one of three groups of Free Wheelers riding from the Hunterdon Land Trust farmers market today.  Michael H, on hand early, had orchestrated the event at the behest of the Land Trust people.

Our group was a strong one -- a bunch of B+ riders taking it easy on a Sunday.  Then there was me, having taken it easy on a flat ride yesterday and having my cock cut off by the wicked fast pace that four Slugs held onto on a different ride, one that I now have to go on in order to get my manhood back.  I made sure to announce this, small dick and all.

I offered these hunks of power two routes.  They picked the easier one.

Off we went, from Flemington to Round Valley Reservoir.  So relatively flat was the first half that, when we arrived at Whitehouse Station for our rest stop, John said, "Twenty miles already!"

Before we pushed off again I gathered the group.  "You might be wondering where the hills are,"  I said.  "They're all in the second half."  It's not like me to start with the easy stuff and save the big climbs for the end, but that's what I was doing.

I'd been messing with my helmet camera for the first few miles.  It was beeping at me strangely when I turned it on.  It was silent when I turned it off.  I'd been wanting to record the view of and from the reservoir, but in order to do that, one mustn't just shove one's helmet camera in one's backpack, where it is easily jostled and made to use up its power and memory on over one hour of lens-capped, backpacked darkness.  I was left with a useless head-squasher strapped to my helmet.  Oh well.  It's the sort of mistake one only makes once.  I kept it on my head anyway, hoping it would still have enough juice to record the view from the top.

As we began our ascent to the reservoir, Jim wondered aloud if he should switch to his small ring.  "I dunno," I said.  "Your penis is bigger than mine.  It's your decision."  This was not my last penis joke of the day.  Lucky for you, I don't remember the third one, but I do know that it caught John off guard.

"Shut up.  I hate you," he replied, and sped off in one ring or another.  This was not to be the last time I heard that from him today.

I rode next to Jane.  "I hope you have shade like this in France," I said.  She and John are going to ride some of the Tour de France course in a couple of weeks.  When we got to the sunny, steep part, she said, "It's gonna be hot like this."

There's something about Round Valley Reservoir that makes people shout when they see it.  When I took Mike B up there for the first time, he jumped out of his saddle and bellowed, "This is great!  This is amazing!  I'm in the world!" or something like that.

Jim, as we reached the top, passed me, hollering, 

I - I am going to be a storm - a flame
I need to fight whole armies all alone
I have ten heads, a hundred arms. I feel
Too strong to war with mortals. BRING ME GIANTS!

(Cyrano de Bergerac, he told me later, when he sent me the text.  Had my camera been working, we'd be giggling at with him on YouTube right now.)

Long-time readers (yeah, right) might remember my obsession with the Dr. Seuss trees.   Today I wasn't the only one looking out for them.  By now I'd put the helmet camera in my pocket, much to the relief of my skull and several cervical vertebrae, and I didn't stop for still pictures.  We all got a good look at them from Payne Road, though.  "That's where we're going," I said.  "Yeah, but first we have to descend into the valley," Jim lamented.

The valley runs along the (no, really?) South Branch of the Raritan River.  There's a section where the road is closed, leaving what's left of the pavement to us bikers.  Last time I was here I marveled at the people who were fishing downstream of the sewage treatment plant.  Today I had to stop and pull my cell phone out.  Today there was somebody in a lawn chair, in the water, reading, as his buddy stood fishing.

Here's the wide view.  The treatment plant is on the bank in the center.

Here's a close-up.  I'm pretty sure he didn't see me.

One of our number was a little nervous.  He recognized the turn we made out of the valley.  Last year, on a hotter day, with different gearing, he cramped up.  "You got this one today," I said.  I was sure of it.  He'd been one of those fast people I didn't ride with yesterday.

We all made it up the 500-foot ascent, and we all got to see the Dr. Seuss trees from the top of the ridge.  Jane was pretty sure they were fake, hiding something technological behind the unlikely-shaped greenery.  I think we were looking at two dimensions as one, still too far from them to see where they were planted.

As we gathered at the top, I pointed back towards the reservoir.   "We're here.  We were there."  Jane looked ahead and said, "And that's where we're going to be."  Which was, for the most part, downhill all the way back to Flemington.

Once again, the circle was devoid of traffic, and we cruised into the farmers market parking lot just after the C-pace group and just before the C+ riders came in.

I regret that I didn't do a good job of pointing out land that was preserved.  I forgot to point out their parcel on Old Mountain Road.  The ridge that the Dr. Seuss trees live on seems not to be protected at all.  If you're into gazing at maps, you can find the Land Trust's target regions here.

This is the route that we took today.

The farmers market is worth visiting if you're up that way on a Sunday before 1 p.m.  If you're going to start a ride up that way, though, go around the corner to Old Croton Road and start from Mine Brook Park.  That's what I'll be doing when I run this ride, or something like it again.  Not so much traffic circle next time.

OK.  That's all for now.  I guess I'll be seeing some of you at the next Saturday ride out of the Hamilton YMCA on Sawmill Road.  Chris says I have the balls to do it.

*****

Here's how the helmet cam is going to travel from now on.  Gris-Gris Mojo approves: