Hillsborough to Califon, and Rowlf is Good to Go

What the end of a ride looks like.

18 April 2016

The delay in this post has been brought to you by the May Freewheel. We now resume our regular programming.

Saturday:

I dragged Plain Jim, Jack H, Pete, and Chris from Hillsborough to Califon. The route begins near the Raritan's South Branch, has its halfway mark on the South Branch, and ends in the South Branch watershed, yet covers 57 miles without following the river for more than 2 miles at a time. This is possible because the river makes a large U through Hunterdon County. Between the arms of the U is a pile of hills. That's where we were headed.

Tom wanted to join us, but the rear wheel of his climbing bike had other ideas. His Synapse gets the Miss Piggy award for the day because, aside from normal cable stretch*, the new Miss Piggy has been rock solid for six months. Even the benign clunk in her bottom bracket is gone now that warmer weather has expanded the metal bits. 

We started off cold. It didn't take long for us to start peeling the layers. Chris, who had a handle bar pack, said he'd charge us a dollar per ounce per mile to carry our stuff. He didn't make any money on Saturday. We all had big pockets.

I didn't take any pictures until we got to Mill Road above Route 22. The black lumps are sleeping calves.

We went up Rockaway Road, past our favorite house. I was hoping for a grand display of spring bulbs, but spring was starting late in Tewksbury. All that was there were daffodils. I didn't stop this time.

I've been on Rockaway during the early spring months before. Usually, though, it's high summer or early fall. I'd never noticed the farmhouse through the trees by the little bridge where Rockaway Road ends in Mountainville:

There are several evil hills one can choose to get from Mountainville to Califon. Seeing as it was only April, I chose one of the easier routes: Cokesbury-Califon Road to Mountain Grove to Hoffman's Crossing. If I'd had my bitch on, I'd have led the guys up Philhower instead. You're welcome, Slugs.

After a long stop at the general store -- it was crowded and Jim found himself waiting for 15 minutes, but we won't hold it against them -- we had a long slog out of the valley to the top of Guinea Hollow Road. From there to the bottom of Rockaway was the better part of six miles downhill.

I stopped on Guinea Hollow to talk to a grazing cat who was sharing a field with a pair of donkeys.

The Rockaway Creek on Guinea Hollow Road:

The old mill at the bottom of Rockaway Road:

Although we'd all done some climbing already this season, we've had a few weeks of bad weekend weather between then and now. Ten miles from the end, my legs were finished. I reminded myself that this exhaustion was a good thing, and then I got my second wind in time for the final few flat miles.

Sunday:

Gearhead nerd alert! You've been warned.

Sean pulled up at 2:00 on Purple Haze, and I rolled out on Rowlf for a 30-mile recovery ride. Rowlf hadn't needed a new stem after all. Michael had looked it over and given me the all-clear on Friday.

I confused myself on the Campy levers within a quarter mile of my house. We were on the slow, shallow ascent of Bear Tavern Road when I finally hit on the mnemonic for shifting with Campy: Go big or go home. As in, the big lever gives me the big rings and the thumb thingy drops the chain down again. I'm now certain to screw up shifting on all my bikes. This is what happens after almost 16 years with Shimano. I'm sure Sean got a kick out of my running commentary as I fumbled through the gears. 

The feel of the Colnago Saronni Master with the wheels built to Michael's specifications is a surprisingly stiff and quick ride for such a heavy steel bike. I wouldn't take Rowlf into the Sourlands, given that I have four better choices, all with MTB gearing. Nonetheless, Sean led us up Route 518 to Hopewell from Harbourton, and then out of the valley on Carter Road. Now that I look at the route, there was more than a little climbing involved.

For long, shallow slogs, Rowlf is pretty good. With 11 cogs between 11 and 28 teeth, I'm able to shift to match my cadence in a way that I can't when I have to jump from 11 to 34 in 9 steps.  I did the ride with tired legs and no caffeine. Maybe this will be my recovery machine. 

(* I know, Jim. The cables don't stretch; the housing settles. "Stretch" scans better. When it comes down to writing or wrenching, I know which one I'm better at.)