Windy Weekend Riding

Burnt Mill Road at North Princeton Developmental Center

27 May 2013

I don't remember when it was, four years ago maybe*,  Big Joe led us on an early spring ride north from Mercer County Park towards South Brunswick.  The wind was whipping that day.  It was beating us up pretty hard.  I rode alongside of Big Joe and said, "You know what all this wind training is good for?"

"What?"

"Riding in the wind."

And so it was this weekend.

Eddie the Shoulder volunteered to lead Winter Larry's Sunday Cranbury ride.  He'd emailed us a route to New Egypt at a "strong B" pace.  I put Kermit in the car, met Plain Jim an hour early in Plainsboro, and prepared myself to suffer.

The Shoulder is smart, though (he has a PhD that he actually uses):  he changed the route and pointed us towards the Sourland Mountain instead.  That put us into the wind on the way out.

 

Burnt Mill Road at North Princeton Developmental Center

Normally the Cranbury rides never get closer than an ascent up Grandview and a descent down one of the two nearest exits.

Not this time.  We stayed on the mountain, in the trees, all the way to Peacock's.  Kermit is geared to climb.  He can handle anything in the Sourlands and whatever central Hunterdon County has to offer.  But he's steel.  He's heavy, I push harder, and my back hurts when I'm done.  So when The Shoulder announced that we'd be hauling ourselves over Rileyville, I complained.

 

Plain Jim, Mark and Me at Peacock's

photo by The Shoulder

my Vegas jersey courtesy of Sean and Dale

But I caught myself when The Shoulder began to contemplate other options.  "Ride leader rule."  I said. "Never change your route when people complain.  It's your route."

The last time -- the only time -- I climbed all the way up Rileyville from the north was before 2008, before Kermit had 34 teeth in the back, I think.  It was one of Cheryl's Tuesday night rides, packed with fastboys and fastgirls who would routinely desert us slow folks less than five miles in.  I remembered the top half of the hill as an asphalt wall.

So here we were, two kites (The Shoulder and Plain Jim) and three bricks (me, Neil and his backpack, and Mark), ascending Rileyville.  We were on the second half, Neil and I deep in conversation.  I was thinking that the worst was yet to come, just around a corner, when Neil interrupted himself with, "Now that's just undignified."  I looked to our left.  On the other side of the road we were being passed by a sprinting runner.  All three of us laughed.

I looked up then and saw not the asphalt wall I was expecting, but the top of the hill.  I was in a way low gear.  Should I let myself be passed by a runner and suffer the indignity of being blogged about?  Maybe.

Naah.

I shifted up and zipped past the runner in time to crest the hill before he did.  No matter.  I got blogged about anyway.

The Shoulder, being fast, pulled many Tom Hammells by snapping pictures of us slow types ascending.

 

At least I have good posture, 

if not a sense of which side of the road to ride on.

I have no idea why I'm over there  Must've been

avoiding something or someone.

 

Mark ascending Hopewell-Amwell Road

When we got to Cherry Valley, The Shoulder asked me to help him get us from the outskirts of Princeton to Washington Road.

"You want to cross Route 1 at the Washington Road?" 

"Yeah."

"At the traffic circle?"

"That's what the route says."

"And ride on 571 on the other side."

"Yeah."

"Nuh-uh."

So much for the ride leader rule I imparted earlier.  The three of us bricks mutinied.  We took over and led the group back towards Montgomery and Kingston via the much less gnarly, but still unpleasant, Cherry Valley Road route. 

"Another ride leader rule,"  I offered.  "Always check the road ratings with njbikemap.

*****

My back was sore when Plain Jim and I started from my house towards the Memorial Day All-Paces ride.  I always ride to the park anyway; Plain Jim always wants extra miles.

There were nineteen of us in one of the two B groups today.  The outbound pace was mellow enough, and tailwindy enough, for my back to stop hurting. 

Coming home from New Egypt was another story.  I found myself in the front group with Chris, Ken L (he's allowed out to play again), and at least two guys I've never seen before.  I'm built for the wind:  broad and compact.  I don't get knocked around much, and I can hold a steady pace.  People like to get behind me.

Ten miles from the park all I wanted to do was to finish and stretch my back on the grass by the skating rink parking lot.  We got separated from the rest of the group behind us but kept going anyway.  That gave me plenty of time to recover.  The lagging group came back in dribs and drabs, the last of them having had to repair a flat.  Then there was the obligatory hanging out and catching up with other riders from other groups.  We were well-rested for the into-the-headwind miles home.

I'm glad it's going to rain tomorrow afternoon.  It'll be a good excuse not to bike to work.

*****

One more thing.  Last week, at Twin Lights, Eddie the Shoulder wanted me to pose for a picture.  I hammed it up.  

(* Damn, I'm good!  It was almost exactly four years ago.)