Slugs in the Flatlands

Baker's Basin Road

7 February 2015

There was only one hill on the route, a small one, the one that leads into the Assunpink Wildlife Management Area from Roosevelt. From behind me, I heard, "Big ring, Lynch?"

"Big ring, Brittain!"

It was a big ring kind of day.

Nine of us had left Mercer County Park when the air was below freezing and the sun behind clouds. We were sick of being cooped up indoors and training inside.  Some of us hadn't seen each other in forever.  The start of the ride had a hint of giddiness to it.

We were all together until the hill.  After that, a few people started to fall behind, and the ones in the blue jackets jumped ahead.

I'd planned the route so that, although we'd be noodling around for 25 miles before our break, we'd never be far from the park, so that anyone could drop off at any time.  Two riders did, leaving three blue jackets, two yellow jackets, and two red jackets to go on to Stonebridge Bagels and Deli in Allentown.  This is my new favorite flatland rest stop.

We sorted ourselves into colors again on the way home. As Jim pointed out, we were blueshifted.  Blue jackets, then yellow, then red.  We had inadvertently aligned ourselves to the visible spectrum.

Whoops.  Geeked out there.  Sorry.

At the end of the ride, we hung out in the parking lot for much longer than we usually do.  It felt like a party.

I'd like to credit my energy today to all of the indoor training I've been doing.  However, I always feel pretty good when I've had a day off, a good night's sleep, and a trough of coffee.  Tomorrow will tell. Larry's leading out of Cranbury.

Next weekend I'll be in the woods of Hunterdon County, at a two-day glassblowing class. I won't be able to ride, and if it's cold, I won't care: I'll be standing next to a furnace full of molten glass.