#59: Pop-Up Century

 Kermit at Etra Lake Park

13 September 2019

Tom called me a traitor for wussing out on his Lying Bastard Ride. I told him I'd rather do 50 miles into a headwind than climb hills in Pennsylvania.

And that's what I did.

Statler and Waldorf are back to their Whichever Way the Wind Blows routine. Last Saturday they had 88 miles planned. Before I was even finished registering I was doing the map math, working out how to throw in an extra 12 at the end and call it 100.

I was early enough that there was time to walk to the edge of the parking lot for pictures of the cattails.

Off to the side, a tree hinted at autumn.

When the humidity goes away, the wind comes back. It pushed me, Statler, Waldorf, and Prem southwest towards Pasadena. True to form, Statler kept up the patter. Prem had never ridden with these guys before. I filled him in.

We skirted New Egypt and took Route 539 south through Joint Base MDL. There was a lot of traffic, but it wasn't as terrifying as I thought it would be. We had a good shoulder the whole way.

At our first rest stop, a Wawa somewhere near Whiting, a fellow commented on Statler and Waldor's titanium frames. He used to be a fast rider; now he hasn't been on a bike in a while. The four of us got into a long conversation about Free Wheeler rides he could get to from down here. I hope he joins.

At mile 40 we passed Chatsworth Lake. I stopped for pictures of a little beach. It reminded me of Maine.

Our next stop was at Nixon's in Tabernacle (Pumpernickel). They have indoor plumbing now!

Outside we got into a conversation with two motorcyclists, neither of whom, although they'd traveled all over the country, had never been to Twin Lights nor Round Valley Reservoir. We talked the places up.

Statler and Waldorf wanted sandwiches, but not from Nixon's, so we'd stop again when we got to Pemberton. Meanwhile, there was now a headwind to deal with.

On Wrightstown Road I had to stop for pictures.

At mile 70 I told the guys that I was going to tack on a dozen miles when we got back to Hightstown. Prem said he'd go with me.

Somewhere on Old York Road we passed a pasture with a lone cow. "Hi, Cow!" Statler said.  "I always say hi to the animals," he explained.

Statler and Waldorf turned off of Old York Road when we got to Perrineville Road. Prem and I kept going straight, into the wind.

"We need to get to 91 miles," I said, "and then we can turn around."

We got into the center of Hightstown, encountered a stretch of milled road, and turned onto Old Cranbury because we weren't at 91 yet. We went all the way into the southern end of Cranbury.

Prem suggested turning left onto Cranbury Neck to get out of traffic. Pure genius. It was into the wind, but it was also mostly under trees. By the time we turned south on Ancil Davidson we already had well over 91 miles. We took Old Trenton back to Old Cranbury, went over the milled section again, and turned east on Etra Road.

Now we had a tailwind to push us back. When we approached Disbrow Hill Road we were still half a mile short. We kept on going straight until our odometers told us we could turn around.

So that's three for the year, 59 lifetime. I'm OCD enough to want to reach 60 before the year is out.

I did Jim's recovery ride the next day, driving to the start this time. We had a small, chill group, plus an extra rider, who isn't a member, and who has a different idea of what a group ride means. She was far off the front for most of the ride, waiting in driveways for us to catch up, then darting off again.

We had our usual rest stop at Thomas Sweet, where Jim insisted that I get my usual mixed berry-apple juice smoothie that's the color of slaughtered cranberries.