Lordy, I Missed You Guys!

It's not a Hill Slugs ride without a bridge out.

30 March 2019

The last time I was on a group ride was the first weekend in March. Between then and now was glassblowing, rain, and an overseas vacation.

Well, as I told the Slugs on a cold day in January, "When the booties come off, shit gets real." 

Today was a shorts and short sleeves day with a strong wind out of the south. I planned a route from Mercer County Park to Charlstown Coffee in New Egypt. I hadn't been there before but I had word from other Freewheelers that it was a worthy rest stop.  The route from the park was about 47 miles. From my house it would be 63. After so much time away I deserved to suffer.

We had seven riders: me, Plain Jim, Bob, Pete, Chris, Andrew, and a new-to-us guy named Dave.

Within minutes of setting off I made a wrong turn, getting my Windsors and my Robbinsvilles confused, heading down the latter when I meant to take the former. The detour back to Perrineville Road added about three miles.

When we encountered bridge construction on Jonathan Holmes Road I explained to Dave that crunching through half-dried mud over a half-finished bridge is a Hill Slug requirement. He took it in stride. (Please excuse the condensation on the camera lens.)

Charlestown Coffee is in a little strip mall at the intersection of Routes 528 and 579 at the eastern edge of New Egypt. Approaching from the east, we took a side road that paralleled 528, popping out on 579 almost directly across from where we wanted to be. Beach season hasn't yet begun. I can imagine a five-minute wait in a few months.

Crossing 579 without a light was worth it, though. Charlestown is connected inside to the deli next door. There's a massive blackboard listing every possible caffeinated concoction. I went for cold brew, unaware that they'd put vanilla in it. "Don't do that," I cautioned them with a smile. 

Everyone agreed that we should make this place a regular stop.

Our route back home had us in crosswinds and tailwinds, which was a good thing because the light breeze had become heavy gusts.

We were back on Jonathan Holmes, west of the construction, several hundred yards from Hill Road, when Bob got a flat.

Bob had, apparently, remarked that we'd made it through the ride with no flats. This, Jim explained, had angered Pneuma, the goddess of flat tires.

"At least it's my front tire," Bob said.

Jim said, "Mark this day with a white stone."

"Does Pneuma prefer white stones?" I asked. "Or gray, or black or--"

"Bridgestones," Jim said, and for that he won the day.

"I really missed you guys!" I said, for the second time that day.

 Devotional Items for Pneuma

The goddess wasn't finished with exacting revenge. Ricky was next, on Gordon Road, only a handful of miles from home.

Back in the park, after almost everyone had left, Sue M pulled up on her mountain bike. I rode along the paved trail with her part of the way, then headed back to the road. I got home in the nick of time; one more mile and I would have bonked.