Jetty, Belmar, NJ
21 July 2018
Last week Jack H came up with a new rule: On every ride we need to blame something on Tom. This would be especially tricky in that Tom would not be with us on Saturday.
Between Wednesday and Friday rain sneaked into the forecast, earlier and earlier every time I checked. Maybe we'd stay dry all the way to Belmar from my house and back, or maybe we'd get wet trying. Hedging our bets, I whipped up a bailout route that would turn us back at the Manasquan Reservoir.
There were four comrades in crazy signed up by Friday morning. Friday night saw two more. Well, if they weren't worried about the rain I wasn't going to lose any sleep over it. I even got to bed early. If the ride were to go as planned I'd have my second century for the season. My goal is a minimum of two. Given the way everything's been achy and my power has been declining, I would do well to take some time off after the ride.
Three guys started with me from home for the hundred-mile round trip. One was Ricky, who did his first century on one of our Belmar rides. Brad, who rode with us to Pittstown last month, was on board, as was Len, who must've woken up before dawn to get all the way up here from Gloucester County for the 7:15 a.m. start. Len was new to the group, although something in the back of my mind nagged me that I'd ridden with him before (hold this thought for later), although, given where he was coming from I couldn't fathom how.
We rode through some of the NJ State Triathalon cones to get through the park. I was surprised the officials let us through. There were cones on Old Trenton Road too. Jack H, who we picked up on the far side of the park, had to navigate through the race course too.
Jim and Winter Larry (Winter Larry!) were in the Etra park lot when we rolled in. Jim was having trouble processing our arrival because we were fifteen minutes early. Chris arrived while I was down by the lake taking pictures.
The wind was out of the east and would be picking up speed as the storm, set for 2:00 or 3:00, depending on where we looked, approached from the south. At 8:45 there was plenty of blue sky. As long as we could see our shadows, I figured, we'd be fine.
Being Our Lady of Perpetual Headwinds, I found myself mostly pulling the guys through the wind to Clarksburg and south towards Jackson. I figured I could spend a little more energy than usual in the first half and have the tailwind make up for it on the way home. Also, the sooner we could get to the shore the less likely it would be that we'd get soaked on the way home.
Brad and Len had never been out this way. They were agog at the scenery. I warned them that things would get ugly the closer we got to the shore.
Somewhere in here Len told me this was his first century.
Our first break was at the Minit Stop in Jackson. For us century folks it came at 33 miles. I caught the second half of a conversation between two of our riders. The first was poking the second in the stomach. "Lose this first," he declared.
"Hey!" I broke in. "No fat-shaming on my rides!"
We kept the break short and pointed ourselves southeast towards the Manasquan Reservoir, where, as promised, I stopped for pictures and to check the radar.
I like the secluded spot to the south of the main reservoir. Today we were treated to a hot-pink hibiscus.
Onward.
I pulled through the headwind again until Ricky, Jack, and Winter Larry helped. From Farmingdale we got onto Belmar Boulevard. It was a straight shot in from there, and as we got closer to Belmar the traffic got worse.
I was heartened to see people walking towards the beach. We could still see our shadows. We turned into our usual spot at the corner of 16th and Ocean. That's where the food is.
Two of the outdoor tables were already occupied by cyclists. Among them was a PFW leader jersey.
"Free Wheelers!" I called out. Judy's group had started from the reservoir. Ben's had come from Brookdale Community College. Both had planned longer rides along the shore but, given the forecast, were going to turn around instead.
Ben I knew from the PFW Board meetings. Judy reminded me that she did once ride with me. "I was in your blog. I was the one that was screaming on that big hill." I remembered the scream and the hill; I didn't remember that it was her. (Hold this in your head for later.)
I always buy iced coffee from Dunkin' Donuts while the guys go next door for pork roll. The staff were having communication problems. I asked for a large, no sugar, no milk. "Iced tea?" the server asked at the end of the transaction. "Iced coffee," I said. She gave me one loaded with milk and sugar. The woman in front of me had the same problem.
I'd forgotten how large a large is. I set the bucket down and sat with most of the Slugs (we spilled onto two tables). Chris looked at the coffee and said, "Not feeling confident?"
"I always get this," I said. "You wouldn't know 'cause you're not strong enough to go on these rides."
The guys broke out laughing. "Ooooo, burrrrrrrn!" I said, and added, for the benefit of the noobs, "Chris has been harassing me since 2000."
Larry showed me that he was putting his wallet in a plastic bag. "Thanks," I said. "Because you did that we're not going to be rained on."
"We need to find something to blame on Tom," Ricky reminded us.
"We can blame the rain on him if we get wet," I offered. Jack and Ricky agreed.
"This was great!" Len exclaimed.
"We're not done yet," I said.
I went across the street to the boardwalk for obligatory pictures. I looked for a spot with the fewest people and zoomed in on a fishing boat.
and zoomed in on a fishing boat.
Then I found the jetty and had some fun waiting for waves to break against it. "Stay off the jetty," the sign says.
One more, of the streetlamps along the boardwalk, zoomed in after the fact to cut out all the people:
Back at the tables I checked the radar. There was nothing over us at the moment. I zoomed out. Way out.
"Guys," I said, and held the phone out for Larry. "We gotta get out of here." I showed it to Judy, who was already suiting up. "I know," she said. I put my camera in a plastic bag I'd brought along for the occasion.
We headed south first and then turned west at Lake Como. Instantly things got quiet. We no longer had wind in our ears.
We rode that tailwind all the way out of town, past Wall Township, and through Allaire. Our shadows were with us, but fading. Len was exalting the ride in the past tense again. "We're not finished yet," I said.
In Freehold we stopped again at another Dunkin' Donuts. I suggested we keep this one quick. We did, but within five miles Jack came down with a flat. It was quick work fixing it; Jim didn't even have time for his favorite riddle: How many Free Wheelers does it take to change a tube? (How many ya got?)
"I'm blaming this on Tom," Jack said.
Jack stopped again in the shade of the rollers on Lamb Road. The screws of his front bottle cage had come loose. He fixed that in no time, only to have to stop again in another mile or so because he hadn't seated his frame pump properly when fixing the flat.
I think we were all worried about the rain. Our speed picked up and so did the wind. We had no shadows.
We got a little spread out on Disbrow Hill Road and congealed again at Etra Park. "Looks like you guys'll get 94 miles of rain-free riding," Chris said. That sounded strangely specific, given that we century folks were at 85 miles.
We didn't spend much time at the park. Jack, who had ridden from home to Mercer County Park, said he was feeling so good that he'd follow us back to my house. Len was feeling ecstatic too.
"Most centuries aren't this easy," I warned him. I was getting tired, of course, but I was getting tired much later than usual.
When we crossed over Route 130 at Conover onto Hankins I suggested to Jack that we ride over to Tom's house, jump in his pool, and make him take us all home.
Instead I felt a drop of rain on my face. I smelled petrichor. That's all it was, though, as we turned onto South Road toward Windsor: a few drops and the smell of rain. "Notice how it rained only near Tom's house," I said.
Between Mercer County Park and home the streets were wet in places. "Talk about isolated showers," I said as we passed through a patch that was only a few hundred feet long.
Jack stayed on Princeton Pike when we turned off. He'd have 115 miles for the day. As we turned onto my street we had 101 miles and a for real rain shower. It lasted long enough for us to put our bikes away.
Brad confessed that this was his first century. He didn't want any of us to know. I called him and Len "boogers" for making their first centuries look so easy. Ricky is a booger too because he never gets tired. I need to rope all of these guys into being a regular century team. Len can be the engine.
I gave the guys some water and showed them the glass pieces I'd made. Earlier Len had asked, "What do you make?"
"Mistakes," I told him. I showed them my favorite mistakes.
Len and I talked outside for a while after everyone else had left. The more we talked the more I had the nagging feeling that he'd ridden with me once before, back in late winter, when we'd both been so bundled up it's no surprise we wouldn't have remembered each other.
Later I dug through the sign-in sheets for this year's rides. Yep. There he was, back in March, when we'd all been so bundled up it's no surprise we didn't remember each other.
I'm apparently no good at remembering riders who put in only one appearance. I guess it takes me at least two rides, or an embarrassing reminder, to register a face or a name or both.
It's 9:35 now and still raining. It's going to be rainy all week and possibly into Saturday as well. I'm okay with that. I'm planning a week away from the bike and don't want the temptation of seeing my shadow to dissuade me from a much-needed rest.
No comments:
Post a Comment