Shadow Selfie, Stony Brook, Princeton
26 December 2017
Not content to be beaten by my 2015 self, I needed 39 more miles. Perhaps if Rick W hadn't listed a ride on Boxing Day I'd have let it go. When I saw his post I figured he hadn't gotten around to canceling it yet; the day's high wasn't even going to reach 32 degrees.
Best make sure, so I emailed him. "Yes," he answered, "my threshold is about 20 degrees (before wind chill). Given the projections for tomorrow to be mid-20s, I'll be there." I saw his crazy and raised him half an hour by riding from home. I figured I'd peel off from his group anyway, not being able to hold his pace on a warm day.
I wore my warmest everything. Riding with a crosswind up to Princeton my knees got cold. That was a new one. I was otherwise toasty until I reached the ride start at the Princeton Shopping Center. Peter F was already there. "I'm going to drop off at some point," I told him. He said, "Rick's not gonna do 45 miles. It'll be more like 25." He added that we wouldn't be going into the Sourlands either, which meant that I'd pretty much have to be along for the full route.
Rick drove in a few minutes later. We had to fumble around to find a pen that worked so that we could sign in. I had to take my lobster-claw gloves off for that. Bad idea.
We started up Mount Lucas Road. An annoying little hill on any other day, it was still annoying today but at least it warmed us up. Descending, however, pretty much sucked.
"Brutal," Peter stated as we reached the bottom. We didn't have to ask what he meant.
I had to pull the pair of glove liners out of my pocket and add them into the lobster-claw mix. That's high-end cold right there. The claws make my hands sweat if the air is anything above 32 degrees.
Rick had two short routes in mind. When we got to the decision point I already had almost 20 miles. I voted for the shorter route. Not that it mattered; Rick was halfway into the shortcut turn already.
Everything on me was toasty except for my toes. I was wearing my ventless, ankle-high winter shoes, with toe warmers under my toes and on the top of my shoes. I had wind-resistant booties on top of all of that. There wasn't room for anything else, which was part of the problem, because ideally one should have room to give one's toes a good wiggle. I had room for a mediocre wiggle. When I bought these shoes a decade ago I hadn't known about wiggle room, nor that Sidi runs small.
I hadn't bothered filling my Camelbak in the morning. I'd stuck with a bottle of Gatorade-water, hoping that the salt and sugar would keep the water from freezing. That mostly worked, except that the valve froze solid. I resorted to unscrewing the cap and drinking at red lights.
We got onto Canal Road at Blackwells Mills, 18 miles from home. We were protected from the wind there. Rick's route conveniently went the same way I was going, so we stayed together into the middle of Princeton. We parted ways where Washington Road meets Nassau Street.
"Thank you, I think," I said.
On my way back down Princeton Pike I turned onto the bike path where it crosses the Stony Brook. When I commute to and from work I go over the Stony Brook bridge. I'm always very focused on traffic there and I never have the chance to look around. I stopped on the path and pulled out my camera. I was surprised that it worked; my old one would never have tolerated this much cold.
I was in time for a line of geese passing under the bridge.
I had time for one artsy shot before my feet began to yell at me.
I coasted into the driveway with 40 miles, beating my 2015 distance by two miles. The thermometer on my GPS read 26 degrees. It was 12:05 p.m.
The Gatorade was starting to freeze.
I stood in the shower, the water on as hot as I could stand it, until my feet warmed up again.
Pete G has sent around an email asking if anyone wants to ride the towpath tomorrow. Whaddaya say, feet? There's more room in my mountain bike shoes.
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