Last Ride of the Year/First Rides of the Year

North View from Rileyville Road

(the shot I was trying for in the mid-December haze)

2 January 2016


31 December 2015

Snakehead put out a call for a New Year's Eve ride. I was the only taker. The plan was to start from Montgomery, stop in Lambertville for coffee and beans, stop again at Wheelfine, stop a third time at the Brick Farm Market in Hopewell, and get home before 2016.

The bean part didn't happen because Rojo's was closed. We got stuck at Wheelfine for so long that I begged for a direct route home.

"Being at Wheelfine is like being at a casino," I told Jack. "No clocks. The one clock on the wall has been stopped since the summer."

"I thought you were going to say 'since the 1970s'," Jack replied.

It was worth the delay, though, because Ed and I both had questions. Michael hadn't seen Love Child, so Ed wheeled it in. Michael is a fan of fine steel. He's no fan of disc brakes on road bikes. Michael is not shy about stating his opinions.

I said to Ed, "He's going to have to fumigate the place now that you brought those brakes in here." Michael agreed. The two of them talked rim and hub specs that were beyond my knowledge base (I don't know manufacturers beyond BHS, Mavic, Shimano and Campagnolo). Ed disappeared into the deep recesses of the shop to paw through the clothing (this requires snaking through the work space and a rear bike hold).

Meanwhile, I asked a handful of scattershot questions about the soon-to-be-delivered Colnago frame (he approves), whose rear dropouts will have to be cold-worked 1 mm wider. Michael has Campagnolo rims and hubs. We agreed that he'd set me up with the parts to build the wheels. I'll do the lacing and initial tightening then hand them off to him for finishing.

Ed emerged with a part-wool Wheelfine long-sleeve jersey. Michael handed him a wheelbuilding instruction book. "That guy has almost as many gold medals as I do," Michael said. He told me I should read the book too.

On our way back towards Hopewell, we took Mine Road from the top. The winter sun illuminated a huge sycamore (I think) at the bottom of the hill. I stopped at top for photos while Ed did his downhill bomb thing.

He was already circling back when I reached the bottom. "I was taking pictures of this tree," I said. "It's fantastic!"

The Mine Road metal bridge, which takes all the joy out of the descent:

Well, that and the T intersection.

*****

1 January 2016

Before moving to Lawrenceville, we lived in a small apartment in Plainsboro for a year. I belonged to a rotten, corporate gym down the road. It was there that I took my first Spinning class, and it was there that I met Joanne. She lived in the apartment complex across the street from me. After Jack and I moved, we stayed friends.

We drifted apart for a while, then found each other again in my mountain biking years. Where I was pure chicken, she was fearless. Then we drifted apart again.

As annoying as Facebook is, I have to give the damn thing credit for reuniting me with a handful of friends. Joanne is one of them, and on new year's day I met her at her apartment at the western edge of Lawrence Township for a laid-back mountain bike ride on the flat trails of the Pole Farm (or Mercer County Park Northwest or Mercer Meadows or whatever people are calling the place these days).

My legs were tired from the day before (not having been on the road in several weeks). I'd had no caffeine* either (because I'd need its full effect for Saturday's Hill Slugs Ride). We took it slow, which was perfect.

We rode through the woods along the southern portion of the old Johnson Trolley Line. I stupidly thought that the northern and southern portions would connect, somehow forgetting that there's an interstate highway between the two parts.

On a wooden bridge I stopped for pictures.

That's when we saw the fox ahead of us:

The path ended on the Rider University campus. We rode on Route 206 into the center of Lawrenceville Village, then found the Lawrence-Hopewell Trail in Village Park. This is the part that Joanne knows well. I only knew where we were when we got to the Pole Farm.

Rosedale Park:

We bumbled around on the cinder trails for a while, then headed back home through the woods on the trolley line.

I spent the rest of the day trying to stay awake. I was not successful. Jet lag.

*****

2 January 2016

I had six Hill Slugs with me today. Two had misread the blog post and showed up early. Chris was at the parking lot in Pennington at 9:00 a.m. for the 10:00 a.m. start. I was just sitting down to drink my coffee at 8:50 a.m. when I saw Pete pedal in, 40 minutes early for the 9:30 a.m. start. He thought we were starting at 9:00 too. I summoned him inside to stay warm (it was finally winter outside). Ed drove in ten minutes later, and then Jim pulled up.

The four of us met Chris, John K, and Celeste in Pennington.

I was an asshole. I took us up Poor Farm. It's Chris' fault. He said to Pete, "She doesn't usually do the nasty stuff this time of year." I had to call out, "Right turn!" on Woosamonsa, and I heard Jim cursing me from the front of the pack.  I didn't know until we were riding back to my house that he'd cursed me in Latin.

The farm at Mount Airy is breeding headless cows:

Just kidding:

We stopped at Rojo's so that Ed could buy coffee beans. "We're down to our last scoop at home," he said. This cannot stand.  I bought some beans too, because I'm down to my last jar. Ed carried both in his pannier. He begs people to give him their stuff for his pannier. Anything to slow him down.

Today's group was a good one. It felt as if we'd been riding together for decades.

*****

Using a Performance Christmas gift certificate, I ordered a truing stand and a dishing tool.

*****

(*The reaction of coffee drinkers when I tell them I take days off from caffeine is universal:  "Why?"  My answer is always the same: "Because I need it to work when I ride with the guys on weekends.")