Rides to Somewhere

Assunpink Creek at Mercer County Park

3 December 2017

Bob N met me at my house for extra miles and I showed him the way to Mercer County Park. Tom was leading a "ride to somewhere." All we knew was that it would be 42 miles and flat.

Ricky, Joe, and Andrew rounded out the crew. I had time for a quick trip to the little bridge over the Assunpink behind the East Picnic Area. I wanted to see what the light and the trees were doing.

They didn't disappoint.

"I scratched my lens again," I told Tom when I returned. For a minute he wasn't sure if I meant my eye or my camera. "With anyone else it wouldn't be a question," he said. Dude. I haven't scratched my cornea in two years.

"My camera," I said. "I can't shoot into the sun." This is the second time I've done that. This camera, a Canon PowerShot, has a series of flat, floppy louvers that pull back when I turn the camera on. They're prone to being pushed out of the way by other things as well. I do my best to keep my camera pocket free of anything else, but it only takes one object one time to nudge the lens and that's it. Before this Canon I had another one that I killed by scratching the lens (far worse than this time). Before that Canon I had two Nikons, which were cheaper and a lot crappier all around. I have to compromise between durability and price. I'm not willing to spend a lot of money for something that I know is going to get jostled around and maybe even rained on. On the other hand, when I spent too little money the camera bodies fell apart on me (I had to hold one together with a rubber band). The Canon PowerShot hits the sweet spot: it's cheap-ish, has a reasonable number of controls, has a good range for optical zoom, and pieces don't fall off. Its weakness is the floppy lens covering.

Tom took us southwest, on a scenic loop past the Robbinsville airport, through the rural end of Hamilton, up Hill Road (of course), and down to New Egypt. We were there for maybe twenty minutes, and for most of that time a man of indeterminate age, in work boots, a pack of cigarettes protruding from both chest pockets of his jacket, squatted near the doorstep of Scott's market. He was scratching off a series of lottery tickets, and when he finished he spent another ten minutes investigating them intently.

The coffee wasn't up to snuff. It tasted like warm water. I dumped it halfway.

The return route took us out of town from the east. The late, great Taster's Canvas building, empty for the better part of a decade, finally has a new occupant. I couldn't tell what; we went past too quickly and I don't remember the name. It sounded vaguely mechanical.

Near the northern end of Millstream I had to stop for the cows.

My presence awoke the sleepers,

who, upon stirring, peaked the curiosity of the rest of the herd around the corner, who came around a fence in a low-speed stampede that got everybody running to the left.

They took a look at me as they went by.

Later, as we crossed over I-195 on Imlaystown-Highstown Road, I doubled back to get a closer look at the row of pigeons perched on a streetlight.

When the Sunday group assembled outside of Bruno's, Chris announced that he didn't have a route in mind. "We'll ride to somewhere," he said.

It was a group that I almost didn't have the legs for. Some were Cranbury regulars. Not having fresh legs, I spent the outbound trip focusing on keeping the pace. There were few turns.

Chris' somewhere ended up being the Quick Chek east of Cassville. We didn't stay there long, and we beat a fast path back because someone felt a drop or two of rain. A cup of Winter Larry's jet fuel (coffee mixed with hot chocolate) and a little tailwind got me to Allentown with less effort.

Now that it's December I don't know how many more two-ride weekends we'll be able to squeeze in before year's end. Not that it matters, but I'm about 150 miles away from a big, round number I've never hit before.

I ordered a new Canon PowerShot. It's cheaper than the last one and has almost double the megapixels. If they haven't improved the lens cover, I'll fashion something myself to keep it protected. It also happens to be red, which is different.