Well, That's One Way to Make a Ride Memorable, I Guess.

Hammonton Lake

9 July 2015

Tom warned us that this would be a stupid ride over roads he'd never seen.  When the six of us -- me (carpooling with Jim), Jack H (carpooling with Tom), and Dave (carpooling with Joe) -- arrived in three cars in our caravan from Bordentown, we had the best scenery of the day at Hammonton Lake Park.

The roads were flat and straight.  I didn't have enough sleep in me, so the ride was more of a chore than it should have been.  I didn't mind, though, because I hadn't been on a ride with Joe and Dave in forever.  Dave and I spent the first 20 miles talking about life.

The high points were nondescript (you can see pictures over at Tom's  blog).  

We had our rest stop early, at 20 miles.  I wasn't hungry yet so I didn't eat enough, yielding to the tradition of passing my bottom around.

Ten miles later, on a busy road south of Voorhees, Tom's saddlebag did its annual leap for freedom. This time it got run over by Dave's rear wheel.  What followed was the sound of a scrape, a long hiss, and then a bang.

Dave's tire, worn to the threads ("It was fine this morning!") was very, very dead.  "Text me a picture," he said, as Tom, Jim, and I got out our cameras.  

In unison, the three of us said, "It'll be on the blog."

We were 8 miles of busy roads from the nearest bike shop, a sporting goods store up in Cherry Hill. We opted for a boot and then duct tape (I always carry duct tape) instead.

We decided to move the tire to the front wheel as well.  This took so much time that my cycle computer shut itself off.

Q: How many Freewheelers does it take to change a tire?

A: How many ya got?

Tom recaptured his bag, but the tire was done for.  

We left Dave by the side of the road while we puttered off a few miles north to get our group picture at Camden County's high point, at the far end of a wealthy development in Voorhees.  By the time we got back, Dave had made it to the next intersection, where he was parked under a tree.  

For the next 18 miles we hammered through forest and farm.  I was losing steam.  Normally talkative, the only thing I said, as we reached the massive Top Crop farm fields in Hammonton, was "Blueberries!"  Hammonton blueberries are my favorite.

Tom (with Jack) led Joe back to Dave, while Jim drove me back to my car in Bordentown.

If Dave hadn't been riding on 3000-mile tires, none of us would have had much to say about Saturday. So, thanks, Dave, for the entertainment.