A Window Between the Rain

Doctor's Creek, Imlaystown

25 February 2018

Tom's 7:00 a.m. email said that the ride was on but the roads were damp. Things were likely to be messy, he wrote, so I put Kermit away and swapped rear wheels on Gonzo, replacing the sludgy one I use on the fluid trainer with the snappy one I use on the road.

This took time I hadn't planned for. Frequently when I do this wheel swap it comes unseated in the first handful of miles, when I try to start from a heavy gear and the pedal stomp yanks the chain which pulls the wheel out of line. Today was no different; I had to stop once on either side of Quakerbridge Road to lock the wheel back into place.

As I rode through Mercer County Park the sun shone on Gonzo's sparkles. It's rare that I see the paint in good light.

I rolled into the East Picnic Area at 9:01. Jim was still getting ready so I didn't feel as tardy as I could have.

With Ricky and Chris making us five, we were heading towards Imlaystown. From there we'd turn west and check the radar in Cream Ridge. As of now we'd have until noon before the rain came in.

Jim lamented that he might never find the fitness to climb a hill again. I reminded him that I'm riding on a calf and a half. We both grumbled that lately good riding days have been few and far between. We'd be rained out tomorrow. Again.

Gonzo hadn't been outside in a while. The fast wheels helped, but te bike was work to get rolling. 

In Imlaystown, on Davis Station Road, where Doctor's Creek is dammed for a lake, I stopped for pictures. I have few, if any, of this spot.

I suspected that the patch of blue sky to the east would be the last of the sunlight for the day. We were heading south, towards the cold front.

Tom checked the radar when we reached Route 539 and Burlington Path. He didn't see any rain so we continued towards Allentown the long way, through Walnford, where everyone stopped for pictures of the old mill. The sky was completely clouded over, the water murky from days of rain.

We climbed out of the valley and took the hairpin turn onto Polhemustown. The first drops of rain hit us as we approached Extonville Road. The guys were 30 miles in; I was at 37.5. We turned right, heading for home without a rest stop.

We rode in and out of rain through Allentown and Robbinsville. On Gordon Road, Tom asked me if I wanted to follow him to his house so he could drive me home. "If it keeps on raining like this, yes," I said. But by the time we got to Sharon Road, where Tom planned to turn off, we'd ridden out of the rain again and I stayed with the group.

"We've lowered our standards," I said to Jim. Two years ago we'd never have bothered to go out with a forecast as iffy as this one. Three winters ago we didn't venture out if the air was below freezing.

There was more rain and then there wasn't and then there was. Jim asked me if I wanted a ride home. "If it keeps raining like this then yes," I said. But it didn't, and anyway I was already wet, so I continued on, through the park, in and out of drizzle.

At home I wheeled Gonzo to the back yard and turned the hose on him, misting away the day's grime. I let the bike drip dry on the screened porch. This would be as good an excuse as any to spray a quarter of a bottle of Simple Green onto Gonzo's drive train and start over with Teflon lube. Being the beater bike, Gonzo doesn't get a trip to the spa like the others.

My wet clothes, covered in grit, went straight into the washing machine.