Hardcore Weekend

 

Kermit at Brendan Byrne State Forest Headquarters

28 July 2024

For the first time since April, Kermit had a chance to run. Before Janice showed up, Kermit took on all the rides east of Route 1, from winter 35-milers to that one double metric century all those years ago.

When Tom listed his annual almost-metric from Mansfield, Kermit got the job. I was a little worried about my choice. In all honesty, Janice is an easier, smoother ride than Kermit is, even though Kermit is steel. It was nice, though, to be able simply to pump up the tires and not to worry about battery charge. 

I decided to bring my camera too.

Arriving early, I had time to do some extra back stretches. I was worried about how my janky spine would hold up over 60 miles of constant pedaling. I'm not used to that. I have figured out, though, that the best thing for my back is sleep. I've been making sure to get at least 7.5 hours the night before a ride. With early starts in the high summer, I end up in bed with eye shades and earplugs so that Jack can read in bed while I try to sleep. It seems to be working.

Tom was running late, stuck in traffic after encountering a closed road. We did not fail to see the irony in that situation.

Heddy wandered over to the swingset. I joined her for a bit. Jim got a picture of the two of us. It's on his blog. I still hate my face, so I'm not posting it here.

I took a picture of Jim taking a picture of Heddy on a swing.

I snapped one of Kermit, proof that he still sees some action.

Rickety had Barney ready.

There was a softball tournament going on. By the time Tom arrived, almost all the parking spaces had been taken. 

There were seven of us, all Insane Bike Posse regulars: me, Tom, Jim, Rickety, JackH, Heddy, and Martin.

We set out with what might have been a lilting tailwind. I positioned myself in the back. I didn't want to burn myself up today because I was signed up for a hilly training ride on Sunday. I was also worried that I might not be able to keep up on Kermit, now that I've been riding Janice almost exclusively. As has been the pattern lately, I found myself in the middle.

Our first break was at the Brendan Byrne State Forest Headquarters. I took my traditional portrait of Kermit against the wooden shed.

I was surpised how well my back was holding up. I recently changed my body position when I'm in the big ring. I'd been trying to hold myself up as straight as possible to save my back as my hamstrings pull on my spine, but that turned out to be exactly the wrong thing to do. Leaning into the bars, riding the bike as it was meant to be ridden, turns out to be much easier on my back and easier to go faster. 

We reached Nixon's in Tabernacle a dozen miles later. Heddy and I both had to take a picture of the pork roll sign in the vestibule. 

"Pork roll, egg, and cheese on a hard roll. Only NJ.

Because only Jersey understands Jersey"

We set off again. I hadn't been paying attention to our pace. When JackH said to Jim, "I hate to break it to you, but we're going faster now than we were on the way out," I checked. Yikes! 

Which is to say, this would have been typical, or even slow, a handful of years ago. Also, this route was about as flat as possible for around here.

Of course, Heddy, Martin, Rickety, and I had to add enough miles at the end to make the ride a metric century. This was the first I'd done all season. Normally by now I'd have lost track of the metric count and would have had at least one real century under my belt. I don't know if I'll even get one in this season.

In the end, I averaged at the very top of the B range. I'm glad I can still pull that off once in a while. And my back didn't even hurt. I did feel a cramp trying to come on in the last ten miles, though. Cramping on long rides seems to be a thing with me now that I'm getting close to 60 years old. 

The parking lot was emptying out when we returned. Martin offered us cans of cold sparkling water from a cooler filled with ice. I sat under the open hatch of my car. I didn't much feel like moving.

When I got home, I did an extra round of PT, made sure Janice was prepped, laid out my clothes, and went to bed early.

I was surprisingly not sore when I woke up. I packed a collapsible water bottle full of cold brew because the rest stop Dave S had planned was a farm market.

Overnight, the list of registrants for his ride doubled. I'd been assuming I'd be towards the back, since everyone on the list at that point was a Nova Scotia Premed. Now there were others in the mix and I had no idea how the pace was going to go.

Starting from Skillman Park, we had a flat warmup of a few miles before the first hill. I put myself in the middle of the pack. I had no idea what my legs were going to do today. 

Dave S asked, "How was the ride yesterday."

"It was a hammerfest."

"I was hoping it would take some of the spring out of your step."

"What? Dude, I'm behind you on every climb!"  I appreciated the compliment though.

The route had us going up Fairview to Grandview and up Pin Oak. Heddy took the lead, naturally. My legs felt surprisingly good on the first climb. 

We continued up Long Hill, then went south on Lindbergh (gotta get those two annoying humps in) to Ridge.

After that, the route did a big fuck you: we went down Rileyville to Saddle Shop, then back up Runyon Mill. It's been a long time since I've been up Runyon Mill. I found myself thinking, "The road has to end at some point." The surface was taking that literally; I'm pretty sure it hasn't been paved since the last time I was up here.

We regrouped on Mountain Road (where we could have stayed instead of going down to come back up again, but this was a training ride, where abuse is more important than expediency).

We went back down the mountain on Linvale, then turned on Rocktown and Losey to reach Wertsville. We were at 16-ish miles when we passed by the Carousel deli in Ringoes, and at 18 when we turned into the farm market with the cumbersome name, "Schaffernoth Flowers & Garden Center." I've passed by this place numerous times without paying much attention to it. I bought a peach and some water, and sat in the shade across the parking lot, with Janice propped up against a tree behind me.

The inside of the market was vast and labyrinthine. I feared I'd get lost trying to find my way back from the bathroom.

The floppy flask of coffee was now empty and folded. The caffeine kicked in somewhere on Cider Mill. I stopped at the top for a picture. The air was thick with haze. 

We still had Rainbow Hill and Long Hill to get over. We'd already been on Rainbow Hill a few weeks ago, so I knew exactly what was coming. I plugged James Brown into my mental stereo and spun up, still refusing to use my biggest rear cog. I'm saving that for the Nova Scotia Mountain Day from Hell. 

Heddy's Garmin says that Rainbow Hill is not a hill. Heddy's Garmin is a liar. 

Around the corner, sort of, from that is Long Hill. I don't remember the last time I climbed Long Hill from Wertsville Road. I do rember the old Miss Piggy dropping her chain to the inside on Long Hill during the first Sourland Spectacular I'd participated in, which has to have been 2015 or earlier. I think I've been up once or twice since then. I was glad I'd brought that coffee along. It got me up the hill.

Heddy's Garmin calls Long Hill one climb, but it's a two-parter with a break in the middle. It's not a steady grind either. What makes it bad, especially under the trees in the second half, is the pavement, which is either potholes or badly-filled ones. 

We regrouped at the top of Spring Hill. I told Heddy and Glen, "If you can do this, you can do Cadillac."

Glen asked, "How high is it?"

With a flourish, I showed him the Cadillac Summit keychian I keep fastened to my bar-top bag. "One thousand five hundred thirty feet," I read off the wooden disc.

Heddy's Garmin said we had one more hill. As we approached a bend on Spring Hill, I said, "Rainbow Hill isn't a hill but this is?"

"Yep."

There was more around the curve. "Oh, okay, yeah."  This is where, finally, my legs felt tired.

We looped around to Hollow and then Camp Meeting. It was all flat from there. I got into the big ring and had just enough oomph left to be in the front of the pack for the last few miles.

"I can't believe I did the whole thing," I said as we rolled towards our cars. I said it like that old Alka Selzer commercial. 

"I'm worried we'll burn ourselves out before the trip," I said. "We might want to tone it down soon."

Across the lot, Doug R asked, "Anyone want to ride home with me?" He looked my way, knowing we live near each other. I mean, I was with my car, so, no? I shook my head. "I did a metric yesterday," I said.

"I did a century."

I blew a rasperry in his direction and continued packing up.

One person's hard core is another person's nougat.