In Which We Almost Reach the Monmouth County High Point

Sandy Hook

26 April 2015

Before you read any further, read Tom's post about the history of the Horn Antenna.

Done?  Good.

I was tired today.  My legs weren't fresh and I didn't get enough sleep.  That the first half of the ride was uphill and into the wind didn't help my mood either.

There were 8 of us on the ride: Tom, me, Ron, Snakehead, Bagel Hill Barry, Brent, Jeff (neither Ours nor X), and Pete G (putting in a rare appearance this side of Route 1). We started from Monmouth Battlefield.

Monmouth County is sand dunes.  It used to be under the ocean.  I think Tom found all the big dunes that we'd never before climbed.  

The county's high point was 18 miles into the ride.  A few in the group got to the Lucent driveway before Tom and I did.  He told me to turn and keep going.  At the far end of the parking lot was a fence blocking a winding climb.  

This was a Tom ride. Since when have either of us been deterred by a fence, road block, or sign?

I could see a small gap to the right side of the fence, and, in my climbiest of climbing gears, aimed for it.  I managed to get around it without falling or going off the pavement.  

"Laura!  Stop!"  Tom was yelling at me.  I stopped and saw him at the fence.  The others were milling about in the parking lot.  In the distance I could see someone talking to one of us.

We would not be permitted to see the antenna.  The best we could do was look for it between the trees at the top of the hill.  I took pictures from where I'd stopped.

The guys at the fence:

The road not traveled:

Somebody made a wisecrack about me almost winding up in handcuffs.

"I want fuzzy leather ones," I said.

"Whoah!" the guys replied in unison.  "Now we know too much about you," Pete (I think it was Pete) said.

"You can have mine," Brent offered.  "I have three."

Anyway, if you look between the trees at the center of this picture, you'll see a whitish thing.  That's the antenna.  That's all we saw.

Tom took a group picture and then we headed off to Atlantic Highlands for our rest stop.  After that we crossed the bridge onto Sandy Hook.  At the top of the bridge I called out that I wanted to stop for pictures.  I wasn't the only one taking snapshots.

Behind us was a good view of Twin Lights:

Sandy Hook (left) and the mainland, looking south:

New York City to the north:

Another southern view:

"Is this a photography class or what?" Pete complained after I caught Tom on camera (It's only fair; I don't like having my picture taken either, but I let him and Jim do it anyway.)

We went north into the Sandy Hook National Recreation Area and turned onto the first beach.  I've always only gone to the farthest one, Gunnison, so this was new.

We dismounted at the foot of a stairway leading over a dune.  I asked Brent if he could move his bike so that I could get a picture.  He obliged.

"Shh!  Art is happening!" somebody said, and the guys made some jokes at my expense, or at art's expense, or something.  I was focused on focusing, so I wasn't really paying attention.  Plus I'm half deaf anyway.

We climbed the stairs to look at the ocean.  I went back down and took out my camera.

"I got all of you back," I said. "I just got a picture of boy butts."

They, of course, enjoyed that. "Now I'll have to blog about this," I said.

"And the fuzzy handcuffs," Snakehead reminded me.

Here's the beach:

"It never comes out," Tom said. "It's too flat."

"I like the beach when there aren't too many people on it."

We had a tailwind home, and the road through Rumson was just paved.  Still, too much of today -- and of most of our rides this season -- was spent frantically pointing towards gaping holes in the blacktop.

After the ride I wandered up to the edge of the battlefield.  The apple trees are starting to bloom; I was hoping to be able to see them.

Kinda sorta maybe, just above the green grass, below the farmhouse.

I drove to Battleview Orchards.  Winter Larry likes to stop there. I don't, because he always puts this particular stop only 15 miles into the 45-mile route (when none of us is tired nor hungry), because there's little there I want to eat while on a ride, and because the coffee is bad.  I figured I'd check it out on foot this time, when I could carry things home.  I did buy some things (apples, preserves, pesto, and sugary junk), but in all honesty, I could easily have skipped the trip. Sorry, Larry.

I did, however, dash across the street and climb the berm to get some pictures of the blossoming trees.

*****

Meanwhile, we're three weeks into Jim's five week bike maintenance class.  What began as a nievely simple plan to replace Gonzo's too-small handlebars quickly became a project involving a new stem as well, and, little did I know, entirely new cables.  I'd already gathered those supplies when Gonzo's rear hub exploded.  Now I was looking at two projects.  I'd need a new hub.  And new spokes, probably.  Hell, I thought, why not get red spoke nipples to match the hub?  So I ordered a bag, which will be enough for both wheels, which is fine, because the front is out of true anyway, so why not take that one apart too?

On Thursday, Jim used Gonzo to show us how to remove old cables and take off the shifters.  Now Gonzo is completely out of commission.  

I never did like the color scheme.  The frame was already scraped and dinged when I got it on eBay for $250 in 2013.  Shit, I thought, why not strip it bare, find out if it's in decent shape, and get it re-painted in metallic red with no logos?

So, when I got home today, I took everything off that I possibly could, given the meager tools that I own.  It's impressive how much dismantling can be done with two hex wrenches and a pair of locking pliers (the rack's bolts had frozen on; it was a job requiring tools in both hands).  All that's left now is the drive train and brake housing, which Jim says we'll use to demonstrate how to re-cable (but we won't fasten anything in).  The handlebars are still on, but I know how to remove the steer tube (I did that by accident two weeks ago when attempting to measure the tube's diameter).

I told Jack that I won't be making any jewelry until I have this bike-building thing out of my system.

After I'm finished with Gonzo, I want to put purple spoke nipples on Kermit's wheels.  That would look sooooooooo coooooooool...