To New Egypt, Covered in Pollen

Perrineville Road

12 May 2016

Mid-week the weekend forecast was looking crummy. I wondered if the guys were still going to the Philadelphia Bike Club gathering out in Somewheresville, PA. They were. I wasn't; I'd put the idea aside and never got back to it.

The forecast for Saturday got better and better as the weekend approached. I started from my house and met Pete at the bottom of the hill. There were some clouds over us as we made our way towards Mercer County Park. Later in the day there might be some rain. What we noticed more was the headwind, blowing steady in the mid teens.

We picked up Ricky and Andrew in the park. That I was leading us into the wind for the first 25 miles and with it for the rest of the ride was pure luck.

In the woods on Perrineville Road, yesterday's rain was still under the trees. I stopped for a picture as the guys moved on.

When I caught up to them, I said, "I coulda sworn I saw Kermit in there."

Pete immediately began to sing, "Why are there so many songs about rainbows"

I joined in. "And what's on the other side,"

We went on for a bit, with me doing the best Kermit voice I could muster.

But let's let the frog do it:



When we got into the Assunpink Wildlife Management Area, Andrew mentioned having seen radio-controlled airplanes in the field near the boat launch. I admitted that I'd never taken the road to the launch. So we decided to go off-course, which ended up being on-course because I'd goofed when I'd mapped the route.

And I saw the Assunpink WMA's part of the Assunpink for the first time.

From there we pushed into the wind all the way to the eastern side of New Egypt. Then we cut west through open fields before we got into town.

"You're all green," the guys said as we loaded our bikes into the rack outside of Scott's market. I was covered in pollen. It was on my face, my arms, my legs, my gloves.

"So are you!" It must have been the sticky sun block that made me greener than they were.

We did enjoy some tailwind on the way back to the park. Pete griped that I'd chosen a rather hilly flat route. It's all relative.

Pete and I had our eyes on the clouds as we made our way back through the park. Ahead of us was a mass of steel gray. We'd been skirting it for miles while it seemed to be moving north with us. Whether or not I'd follow Pete all the way to 206 would depend on what the clouds decided to do. They held off so I hung on.

At home, I took a good look at my arm under the bright bathroom lights. I was covered in tree jiz.

It never did rain on Saturday. Sunday was milder but every bit as windy. I slept in, with grand plans of an afternoon recovery ride. That never happened. Instead I got tangled in a massive invasive ivy tear-down and created a three-foot by three-foot pile of roots and runners that I dragged as a solid mass to the curb.

The guys out in PA got a little wet on Saturday and washed out on Sunday. I felt slightly less bad about missing the trip.