Hill Slugs in Califon

Raritan River at Califon

5 December 2015

Maybe it was a bit ambitious for a December ride, but seven Slugs were waiting for me when I pulled in last at Woodfield Park in Hillsborough this morning: Plain Jim, Winter Larry, Snakehead Ed, Chris, Pete, Robert, and Jack H. 

Larry hadn't been out this way in years. It was all new to Robert. Both kept me on my toes by asking, "Where are we?" every few miles.  Most of the time, I answered, "Um, good question. Tewksbury?" Because you can't go wrong with Tewksbury north of 78 and south of Califon.  Tewksbury is huge, with a handful of unincorporated towns that we passed through, like Pottersville, Mountainville, and Cokesbury.

There were many places I could have stopped for pictures. I didn't, partly because I have so many from around there already, partly because it was chilly, and partly because the two scratches in my lens are getting on my nerves. I can't shoot into the sun at all. (Five minutes ago I placed an order for a new camera, the same model, more or less. Let's see how long I can go without destroying it.)

Somewhere early in the ride, I caught part of a conversation behind me.  Robert was saying, "My wife asked me what we talk about out here."

"Everything and nothing," I said.

"That's a good way to describe it."

At the top of Pottersville Road, we were missing Chris. He called. He'd stopped to take a picture. I was a bad ride leader and didn't see that he'd stopped. We'd turned onto Pottersville without him. While we waited, I took a few pictures.

After that, we turned onto Rockaway Road.

That was a gentle ascent. Things got a little more serious on Cokesbury-Califon Road. I'd promised mellow. Had I chosen Philhower Road instead, I'm not sure any of the guys would still be talking to me.

And! Hoffman's Crossing has been paved! All of it! No more moonscape descent!

Part of River Road by the Raritan has been paved too. In Califon, two men were waist-deep in the river, fishing.

Kermit was photographed at the Califon General Store in 2009. Miss Piggy's had her picture taken there at least once. I had to follow tradition and take a picture of the new Piggy.

Cheryl says, "It's not you." She's right. The colors are far too subdued. I'll have to figure out how to me it up a little more. Maybe I ought to have kept the fluorescent green tires. Nah. There's a fine line between odd and ugly.

We were slow getting ourselves back on the bikes after we'd eaten. There was a line of Slugs waiting for the bathroom. As Ed and Larry got ready, Chris said, "We're not waiting for Laura for a change."

I sang, "If I had a penis I'd pamper it proper/I'd stay in the tub and use me as a stopper."

"I don't wanna know," Jim said.

"If I had a penis I'd still be a girl/But I'd make much more money and conquer the world!"

What an earworm to have on a mile-long uphill grind.

"Gloves and gorillas/Slurpees and slippers/chinooks and chinchillas."

"I'd stuff it in turkeys on Thanksgiving day."

"A penis to plunder/A penis to push/'Cause one in the hand is worth one in the bush/A penis to love me/A penis to share/To pick up and play with when nobody's there."

Geez. Is this going to be the song for Academy Road? It is now.

We stopped climbing at Guinea Hollow. "It's gonna be nothing but net for miles," I said.

Pete questioned my sports analogy. I wasn't sure how else to describe a 5-mile descent.

I stopped near the bottom of Guinea Hollow. Shooting into the sun, I got three good pictures of lens scratches. The only picture that came out was one of the Rockaway Creek a few feet to the left of where I was standing.

At the bottom of Rockaway Road, I asked Pete, "How about two scoops of ice cream? Is that better?" He said it was.

In a few miles we were back in Somerset County.

Cows on Meadow Road:

A view from South Branch Road:

For those keeping score at home, Miss Piggy II has now gone 131 miles without a breakdown.