Up the Blue Side, Down the Red Side

Yet another picture of the D&R Canal

 4 February 2107

"26 degrees," I said to Jack as I left the house this morning. Any other winter this might have been enough to keep me inside, but I can't take being at the gym any more than I have to.

Neither, apparently, can ten other hardy fools gathered at the Washington Crossing parking lot.

We were about to leave when Brian asked, "Does anyone have a zip tie?" Missing from his frame was a substantial bolt holding the rear suspension to the seat tube. It must have fallen off while the bike was on the rack in transit. None of us had a zip tie, or anything else that would have held his frame together, so we left without him. He'd be back to pick up the friend he'd driven in with.

We set off on the New Jersey side of the canal towpath, towards Lambertville. 

Dressing for sub-freezing towpath riding is relatively simple: put on the warmest clothing you have. Still, my hands, packed inside lobster claw mitten-gloves, were cold for the first few miles. Today I learned how to take pictures without taking the bulky mittens off.

The towpath gets crowded in Lambertville. Today, though, it was only us, a few runners, and a handful of winter-ready dogs.

We made it over the newly re-decked bridge in Lambertville without injury.

In Lambertville, the sights get interesting. I didn't stop for all of them.

One that I didn't stop for I regretted not having stopped for. Fortunately, ride leader and photographer Paul I lives in Lambertville, and after the ride I hit him up for a photo of the fish I skipped. Somehow, I knew he'd have it.

There's more canal art north of the pink fish.

The metal bike that used to hang here has been replaced with a metal fish.

Where the Alexauken Creek flows into the river, icicles had formed on the spillway:

We crossed the Delaware River at Stockton. "You see things in winter you don't see in the summer" is what I tell people when they think I'm crazy for going out in this. It's rare to see a river bridge with no people on it.

On the Pennsy side, the canal was shallow. The towpath was sometimes a little unkempt. The New Jersey side is beige and gray sand and cinders. The Pennsylvania side is mostly red.

In New Hope, the canal had begun to freeze. (No, don't worry, that's not a real bird.)

New Hope holds its own for offbeat towpath decor.

And what's a Hill Slug ride without a road being closed? I began to cross the bridge to avoid it, but Pete and I saw the gap in the fence at the same time. "What?!?" he said. "You're going around?!?"

No, of course not. We're going through.

Somewhere south of New Hope, I took yet another picture of the Delaware River. Boooo-ring!

The view of the Trap Rock quarry in West Amwell, on Baldpate Mountain, is very clear from the PA side of the Delaware River. If you're ever hiking on the mountain and see "do not enter" signs, don't be a Hill Slug. Stay away. The quarry is still active; they're still blasting in there.

Brian was in his truck when we got back. While we'd been riding, he'd been on an inadvertent bike shop tour.  Not one had the proprietary Trek bolt that would have put his frame back together. He decided he was going to take it back to where he bought it, in South Jersey*. If this bolt fell off, there's no telling what other parts that shouldn't are about to.

The forecast for tomorrow looks to be adding a few degrees. Winter Larry says it'll be warm enough for him to lead.



(*The definition of South Jersey is anything south of where you're standing when you utter the words.)