Janice has a pinwheel now.
27 August 2023
I: Towpath
I rarely ride the D&R Canal towpath in the summer. Being able to move Fozzie's pedals and shifter without fighting against layers of warm clothing feels weird.
Heddy, Our Jeff, and I decided to take it easy the day before our trip out to Brownstown, PA for the 66-mile route of the Lancaster Covered Bridges ride. Truth be told, it wasn't the relentless rollers that were making me dread the day; it was the fact that Heddy would pick me up at my house at 6:15 in the morning.
Jeff wanted to reprise an old ride, the "Magnificent Muffin Migration," that would take the towpath to Kingston then go up the hill to what used to be the Main Street Cafe. Now it's PJ's, but they still have coffee and pastries to go. He said it would be a 10-mile round trip. I couldn't make this work in my head, because I know it's 10 miles by road from my house to PJ's. I also know the towpath is straight, but so is Princeton Pike. Anyway, 10 miles, 20 miles, it wouldn't matter (it's more than 20). We were going to take it slow.
We pretty much had to. Turns out the towpath is crowded in the summer. We also had to dodge mud puddles from the previous day's rain.
Before we got there, we met on the road, Heddy at my house, Jeff on a corner a mile away. I led us through the Lawrence-Hopewell Trail detour at the office park. Condos are going up next to the Brearley House. The temporary trail is narrow and overgrown. I scraped my legs on the greenery.
The section of towpath in Lawrence Township north of the Brearley House is often flooded and uneven in the winter. Now it's covered in coarse sand. It's flat at least, but it still requires more concentration than one would want.
There's a golf course running on either side of the towpath in Princeton. We stopped for pictures at the bridge that connects the two sides. I heard yelling from the opposite bank, but I paid it no mind until we were ready to leave. All the shouting was from a golfer angrily hollering, "Waiting!" and waving his arms. How dare we linger on state park property when he has a hole to play? How rude of us.
Next, we hit the construction on Washington Road. The bridge over the canal is closed for emergency repairs.
A makeshift path goes from the side of the road west to the Millstone River bridge, where two rows of plastic barriers make a crosswalk to the other side.
A sharp left got us back onto the towpath. We continued on to the aqueduct north of Harrison Street. This is where the Millstone River runs under the D&R Canal. People fish off the bridge. I took pictures.
Somewhere between there and Kingston, a bee flew into Jeff's face, stinging him on the lip. It was starting to swell a little by the time we reached PJ's.
We sat at a picnic table outside and talked about a bunch of stuff, including the Lancaster ride. "I'm looking forward to the Honey Stingers," Jeff said.
"What's a Honey Stinger?" I asked.
It took a minute for us to land on stroopwafel, which is a worthy treat. These are stroopwafels filled with honey.
Looking at Jeff's lip, I couldn't resist: "Looks like you already got your honey stinger." After that, we told tales of near misses with angry bees.
On the way back, I got another picture of the construction on Washington Road, this time looking east.
When we got back to the Brearley House, we decided to scout out the old connection to the LHT. We hit a wall of dirt. We turned around.
II: Lancaster in Free Verse
The smell of horse manure at 8 a.m.
"Honey Stingers for everyone!" into a pocket for later
Seven of us posing for a picture I'll never see
Up and down and up and down and up and down and
Horses and buggies and wives and husbands and babies on their way to church
Clop clop clop clop clop (bang!)
Up and down and up and down and up and down and
Men in straw hats, men in black hats
Closed Sundays
"Bridge! Slowing!"
Up and down and up and down and up and down and
"Bridge! Picture!"
Up and down and up and down and up and down and
"Dung down!"
Swerve
Tobacco fields
Corn fields
Barns with giant fans
Turning in the breeze? Electricity?
Up and down and up and down and up and down and
"Bridge! Stopping!"
Rest stop out of Honey Stingers
"Dung down!"
Up and down and up and down and up and down and
Mega church with two parking lot entrances
Oncoming traffic left turn lane
Half a mile of stacked churchgoing blinkers
Closed Sundays
Up and down and up and down and up and down and
"Bridge! Stopping!"
Donkeys in a pasture.
"Donkeys or mules?"
"Which are you?"
"I'm an ass!"
Up and down and up and down and up and down and
Barns with vertical slats tilted open
Tobacco drying inside, hanging, rolled, stacked
How many cancer patients in there?
Up and down and up and down and up and down and
"Bridge! Stopping!"
"Dung down!"
No Honey Stingers at this stop either
Big hill coming
Up and up and up and up and up and up and
Down and down and down and down and down and
Guinea pigs for sale
"Dung down!"
Up and down and up and down and up and down and
"Bridge! Stopping!"
"Are we done yet?"
"I was thinking the same thing."
Up and down and up and down and up and down and
"Cows!"
"Where?"
"Down there, under the tree."
Up and down and up and down and up and down and
Rest stop in a smorgasboard parking lot, closed Sundays
No Honey Stingers except the one in my pocket
"Where did you get that?!?"
"You gave it to me this morning."
"Oh. Darn."
Twelve more miles
Up and down and up and down and up and down and
Guinea pigs for sale
"Again?"
Up and down and up and down and up and down and
Long-sleeved boys in a baseball field
Long-dressed girls in the grass across the street
They wave as we pass
Perfect picture but don't do that
Up and down and up and down and up and down and
"Bridge! Stopping!"
Three miles to go
Up and down and up and down and up and down and
Two miles
Up and down and up and down and up and down and
One mile
Lunch in the shade, build your own sandwich from sealed-bag vegetables and grimy hands
Air-dropped group photos, bridges with my back turned
Back to our cars
The smell of horse manure lingers even after a shower
Janice, you stink!
Amazon order
A gift for Our Jeff
Two cases of Honey Stingers
III: The Lying Bastard Ride
It's called the Lying Bastard ride because, after a dead stop at a light, there was a potholed quarter-mile asphalt wall, a suprise steep hill he promised there wouldn't be any of. Dave C asked, "Tom, how often do you get called a lying bastard?"
"A lot," Tom replied. And that was that.
Over the years he's tweaked the route, taking out that bastard hill. The ride is more scenic now. (I'll link to
this one because apparently I put a lot of work into it and took many photographs.)
Yesterday I didn't take many pictures.
We stopped at the Lake Nockamixon spillway,
and we went down to the water's edge a few miles later.
Even though all the Hill Slugs were finally in one place, I didn't say much during the ride. I was mostly focused on keeping a steady cadence. There were two other riders as well, and they were fast. They pulled ahead, taking everyone but me and Tom with them. Eventually, Jim stayed back too.
I often wound up by myself, the fast guys almost out of sight ahead of me, the few others in my rearview mirror. So much for catching up on each other's lives.
We've had some dry weather for the past week. Today was back to being humid. As if I needed reminding, high humidity messes me up. I made sure to keep drinking. I'd almost run out of water by the time we got to our rest stop at 34 miles. At least my back didn't hurt.
After that, we had a little more climbing to do before what Tom calls the "Red Circle of Death." To get there, we turned off of Marienstein Road (which becomes Bridgeton Hill, which leads to Upper Black Eddy) onto Lonely Cottage, then Old Forge, then Perry Auger, by which point I had no idea which way we were facing.
There were cairns by the side of the road,
and a little figurine stuck onto a telephone pole foothold:
From there we reached Upper Tinicum Church Road, and, in a sharp drop to the left, we went down, one by one, spaced so as not to crash into each other, the Red Circle of Death. It's called Red Cliff Road. It's very steep, very shady, slightly muddy, and, today, excessively humid. Far down to the right is a stream over slabs of red rocks.
We collected ourselves on River Road and did a two-mile sprint back to the Uhlerstown bridge into Frenchtown.
Jim had a ride planned for the next day. I hadn't signed up. I wanted to see how long it would take my legs to recover. In the evening, I registered. There were 18 people already listed, with a cap of 20.
I emailed him. "I'll sweep," I wrote. My legs were still stiff the next morning.
IV: Sweep
I don't have much experience with being a ride sweep. Generally, I stay away from big rides. The times I've officially swept I can probably count on one hand.
Jim's C+ ride was listed as having two leaders, the other guy tasked with taking the fast people. When only three of the 18 assembled followed him out, I was doubly glad I'd offered to help Dave H sweep.
We stayed in the back. Sometimes Jim was there with us. On Canal Road, everyone else sped ahead but us three. I had no sprint in my legs, and neither did Jim. Jack H and Pete were up in the crowd, unencumbered by all the climbing they did yesterday.
By the time we got to Old York Road, several miles away from the rest stop in Raritan, we were so spread out that the only folks I could see were two behind me and one in front.
I think that was a good thing. The bakery is small. 20 people at once would have overwhelmed the place. Fewer than half were still there when Jim and I trickled in. I saw the owner come out with his cell phone to take a picture of us filling his outdoor tables. I don't know if he was happy or pissed. Anyway, they're plenty kind to us in there. We buy stuff.
The ride back was shorter, and filled with potholes.
On Canal and Suydam Roads, I got ahead of a handful of folks behind me, but I never let them out of my sight.
I wouldn't mind being the sweep on Jim's ride again. It's peaceful back there. It was a good way to make sure I was getting the recovery ride I wanted.
