Mercer Lake at the Caspersen Rowing Center
14 February 2017
My fleet has come down with the chain flu.
I took Kermit and Grover to the shop for a drive train cleaning. I don't have the tools at home to dismantle cassettes and bottom brackets. The lube I've been using for the past two years smells like cat pee and sucks up dirt in seconds. I wanted to purge the system and start over with something a little less sticky.
And a little less worn down, it turns out. Both bikes came back from the shop with new chains and cassettes. It was the first new one for Grover after more grime than miles, and the first in three years for Kermit, after something over 6000 miles. Beaker went in and needed the same, after almost 4200 miles. Beaker came back and Miss Piggy went in*. Same thing, 3000 miles. Rowlf and Gonzo are keeping their distance and washing their hands a lot.
*****
Tru said Saturday's ride was on. Tom offered extra miles from his house. "That's the cleanest that cassette and chain will ever be," Tom said, admiring Kermit's shininess. "If we get rained on it won't last long," I said.
We got to Etra early enough to kibbitz and take some pictures at the edge of the parking lot across the street from the lake. The gate has been closed across the entrance on the lake side for the past couple of months.
Jim was back for the first time in forever, his lungs and schedule finally clear. Tru had a big crowd. Ricky was there, although I didn't get a chance to talk to him at all. There was a rare Winter Larry sighting too; we caught each other up on our non-biking lives. He hasn't been leading from Cranbury on Sundays this year. He'd become fed up with being dropped by the B+ riders who would show up and take over his B-paced ride.
Etra is the new Cranbury these days. It's a better starting location as far as traffic goes, but it takes so much longer for me to get there that I'm not inclined to go unless I can start from Tom's house, four miles away but easily ten minutes closer to my house by car.
Wary of the forecast, Tru kept the route local. We meandered towards Princeton Junction. Minutes away from the rest stop at Dunkin Donuts we found ourselves under a rain shower. A few of us checked our radar apps and came up dry.
Tom suggested that we break off from the group at Mercer County Park. We'd go in and look at the lake. I was all for that.
We'd all turned onto North Post Road when the rain started up again. This time it was heavier. Tom and I kept on towards the lake anyway. The rain stopped when we got there and we spent a few minutes taking pictures.
We'd had a mid-week thaw but there was still enough ice in the middle of the lake for the gulls to stand on. Beyond the gulls was the southern shore and the paved trail through the woods. I think maybe I remember mountain biking there.
Even though we didn't have many miles for the day, Tom didn't want to risk an extra loop. It was a wise choice: the rain started for real on my drive home. It continued all night and through Sunday, turning my back yard into a lake and forcing me to spend time on the trainer. One of these days we'll have a weekend with two days of good weather. One of these days.
(*With a fleet this size, trips to the shop are choreographed. This year two went in together and I dropped the third off when I picked the first two up. The fourth one went into the car the night before the third one was ready. Two summers ago I did the same thing, but instead of driving I rode over with one bike and home with another until all that needed service received it. Not having put any people on the planet, this is the closest I'll get to being a soccer mom.)
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