Not a Chocolate Bunny Ride

Manners Road

26 March 2016

The Chocolate Bunny Ride is no more. That didn't stop us from riding today, of course. Tom gathered the Insane Bike Posse to travel from Rocky Hill to Flemington. The route was one of two to Factory Fuel that I'd come up with two weekends ago. Since none of my regulars made the ride last week, today felt like the real thing after last week's trial run.

The temperature was still in the high 30s when I left the house, covering the same route I'd taken four times this week already. Adding the dozen miles in each direction to the distance Tom would cover would give me more than a metric century. I took my time getting into Rocky Hill.

Tom and I often get more people on our unofficial rides than on our official ones. Today he had nine, once we scooped up John K from the wrong parking lot. 

We lost one rider on Hollow Road; he hasn't been on his bike much this season.

Tom had tweaked my route so that we'd pass through Neshanic Station. I hung back to take a picture of the guys crossing the bridge.

We came into Flemington on River Road. This is the first time I've noticed the spillway on the Raritan River at Rockafellows Mill Road. From this direction I've always turned onto the bridge, looking ahead for the gravel. I don't think I've been here before the leaves have come out either. So, I stopped for the little waterfall:

At Factory Fuel:

On Barley Sheaf, I got a picture of what planners would call "the built environment" while Tom removed a shredded bootie.

Across the street was extreme deer browse:

I hung back on Manners Road, too.

I caught up to Tom at the bottom of the first roller. He got a good picture of the guys cresting the hill. By the time I was ready for a shot, a car was in view, and by the time it was gone, so was the best opportunity. I think we're both feeling compelled to get good pictures for the Freewheel now that I've asked him, Jim, and a few others for contributions.

The alpacas at Candlelight Farm were in the front pasture today. Jim said he has to up his game now that he's been selected as a Freewheel photographer, but he let me be the one to commune with the critters today.

Years ago, I co-led several annual Halloween rides that we dubbed the Chocolate Eyeball Ride. One of the more memorable ones included a black goat at the top of Lindbergh/Province Line. John D saw it then; I think I didn't. I've always looked for it since, with no luck, which adds to the spookiness.

The Chocolate Bunny Ride never came this way over Lindbergh. The Chocolate Bunny Ride is, however, cursed. Today's ride was Not a Chocolate Bunny Ride. It might be cursed, however, because, at the top of Lindbergh, staring at me intently, was the black goat. I talked to him while I focused. He never took his eyes off me.

I moved on. This is the southern view from the top of the Sourland Mountain at Province Line Road:

At the bottom, Pete split off for home. Snakehead's electronic shifter battery was running low. He and John K turned east on 518 while the rest of us, now down to five (me, Tom, Chris, Jim and Winter Larry), continued on Province Line to Bedens Brook.

We turned north on the Great Road and east on 518. Somewhere beyond Cherry Hill Road, Chris and I realized we were by ourselves. We waited a while, with time enough to remove yet another layer and find a pocket. Eventually another rider came by and I asked him if he'd seen the rest of our group. He told us there was a flat tire, and  a few minutes later the three of them appeared. "I caught a piece of steel," Jim explained while we waited at 206 for the light to change.

I blame the dead batteries and the flat tire on the goat.

This was Not a Chocolate Bunny Ride. I did not hand out chocolate bunnies.

I handed out chocolate eggs instead.