Towpath, Reservoir

 

D&R Canal Towpath, Lambertville-ish 

28 December 2021

With a week off from work, I was hoping to get a lot of biking in. The weather has not been cooperating.

We had a good day on December 23, or at least it was good enough to ride on the towpath. I drove to the start, a box of glass goodies needing distribution in the back seat of my car. 

It was cold and still a little muddy from recent rain. Pete led Jim, Rickety, Martin, and me from Washington Crossing south, over the Scudder Falls bridge (a first for Rickety and Jim), then north on the Pennsylvania side. Pennsylvania's mud is red.

When we got to Pennsylvania's Washington Crossing, Martin took us off the path to a grave site where Revolutionary War soldiers who didn't make it across the Delaware were buried.

We continued north to Stockton, walked across the bridge, and turned south on the NJ side. There's a bridge out in Lambertville; the detour is a somewhat less well-maintained path on the western side of the canal.

Eventually, we passed the bridge that Ida tore apart:

South of this is where the abandoned railcar is:

The path was muddy. New Jersey's mud here is gray. It sticks like plaster to a bike frame.

The detour ends at a parking lot behind "where River Horse used to be," which helps me not at all. I'm pretty sure I couldn't find this if I were headed in the opposite direction.

Christmas Eve's forecast had a rain-free morning. I took Miss Piggy out for a recovery ride. She'd just been tuned up at Wheelfine and I wanted to make sure everything was in working order. The bike was, indeed, in working order; my legs were not. Grinding on the towpath always takes more out of me than I expect. It was all I could do to get a meager 20 miles on the road.

Christmas was rainy. Plain Jim led a ride on Boxing Day. He had a large group again, but this one was well-behaved. I'd had a rare, full, 8 hours of sleep and was riding a freshly-tuned-up bike, so I was in better form than usual.

We had rain again the next day. 

Tom invited us over to his house for a ride on Tuesday. The plan was to do a short ride, eat homemade cookies, and then, for those who wanted to, swim in the clubhouse's indoor pool. There were six of us: Tom, Jim, Rickety, Blob (finally off the disabled list), Pete, and me. Jack H, having been exposed on Christmas to someone who later tested positive, was in self-imposed quarantine. 

The day was one of those murky ones, with a thick cloud cover after overnight rain. Some of the roads were damp. It felt colder than it was. 

We encountered a lot of traffic, and Tom swore that it was our fault. He never sees this many cars when he's out by himself.

We took a detour into the Manasquan Reservoir's marina, where the murk was on full display.

This is the causeway we usually cross when we're on our Belmar rides:

Tom and Lori had a plate of cookies ready for us when we returned. We hung out inside, socially distanced and some of us masked, for a little while. None of us wanted to swim. It was too cold to contemplate. 

Tonight promises more rain. The rest of the week is iffy, and Saturday looks like a wash. Gonzo, on the trainer, needs a new chain. I guess I'll be stretching it out some more this week.