Slackers!

 

Delaware River at Crosswicks Creek, Bordentown

18 January 2025

A strongly-worded suggestion came down from on high in our bike club. We ought to post our routes, or, failing that, give a detailed description of the ride we plan to lead.

Well, the predictions for Saturday's weather depended on where one was getting one's information, and when. On days like that, I prefer to wing it, or lead something unofficial.

I put it to a few friends that I might want to venture into the Sourlands, destination Lambertville if the weather held, somewhere else if not, an unlisted ride with an unknown route. I don't think my legs remember what a hill feels like. It's been a little while. Tom opined that he wouldn't mind making that little while last a little longer, and suggested a short route from Mercer County Park to Bordentown. I was fine with that, and I could ride over from home. 

When the discussion happened, there wasn't any snow on the ground. The messy dusting came on Thursday night, right around the same time that Saturday's forecast took a turn for the worse. There would still be a rainless window, but we'd have to start an hour earlier, at 9:00 a.m., and get back by noon. The prospect of leaving my house at 8:15 in the dead of winter, in near-freezing temperatures, with the chance of rain that might turn to ice on the roads, nixed my plan for extra miles. 

I did switch wheels on Janice, though. Through-axles make this easy. I put on the cheap, heavy wheels with gravel tires. I bought these for the carriage roads in Acadia, so that I could still bring Janice for the mountain and not have to worry about fishtailing or flats on the gravel. But with the chance of messy roads looming, I figured slightly knobby tires would be safer than slicks.

I tested the new wheels once, a few weeks ago, when I was coming down with a cold and only had an hour or so to ride. I could definitely feel the thousand-dollar difference, but I wasn't sure how much of that was from being slightly sick.

Today I learned that being sick had nothing to do with it. Within the first few miles, I was grateful I'd driven to the start of the ride. This was work. 

Martin had his gravel bike too, so I wasn't alone. His was the bike he brought to Canada, so he's used to the feel. As I worked to keep up with the road-tire folks, I was undecided if I should leave these wheels on all winter as a workout tool, or whether I should listen to my back, which was not liking all this pushing. Whichver, I was stuck with the bumpy glue for today's 34 miles.

Tom, Pete, and Jack H were a few bike lengths ahead of us as we wound our way through a neighborhood in Robbinsville. As Heddy, Martin, and I passed a pedestrian, we waved. The woman called out to us, "Catch up to them, you slackers!"

I hollered back, "It's not a race!" And, to make sure she heard me, I said it again. I'm sure she thought she was being funny, and she kinda was, because here we were, in 30-something degree weather, in the dead of winter, riding our bikes. 

"Slackers!" Heddy huffed. "This needs to go into your blog."

I forgot all about it. I had to text Heddy later and ask what it was that she said was blog-worthy.

We stopped for a short break at the Bordentown overlook where the Crosswicks Creek meets the Dealware River. The tide was out. The gulls were in.

The ride back to the park was a little easier because the wind was out of the south. As we left Allentown, we felt a few raindrops. Using the rule EZ (I think) started, it doesn't count as rain unless your GPS gets wet. Janice's GPS is at an angle. It takes a stronger rain for the drops to stick. Today they didn't stick, and we got out from under the sprinkles when we reached Gordon Road.

Janice's gravel wheels are aluminum, and I felt every ka-bump of Windsor Road. I started to fall behind, and I didn't care. I only caught up to Heddy because her rear light mount hopped out of its position for the third time, and she stopped to fix it. Martin, Heddy, and I caught Tom at the last intersection. Pete and Jack had gone ahead. 

As we were packing up, Martin came over to look at my wheels. He ran his hands over the front tire. "It's like sandpaper," he said. Yeah, 20 grit.

It was noon when I started the car. There were raindrops on the windshield, and it rained all the way home. Tom has some sort of magic power to be able to time a ride so precisely. 

With another snowstorm coming tomorrow, and with below-freezing temperatures all week after that, we don't know when we'll be able to do another road ride. Janice still has her sandpaper on. I'll probably switch back to the slicks. I'm not strong enough for gravel tires in the hills.