Last-Minute Hills

Gulick Road, Rocktown

17 December 2023

I came up with the route at 7:30 p.m. on Friday night and listed the ride immediately after. Jim, Rickety, Pete G, Heddy, and Our Jeff signed up. 

The goal was to visit the Lambertville Bakehouse using roads I hadn't been on in a while. One of those roads was Mine Road from Stony Brook. It's been closed for years, reopening only recently. There are bollards at the bottom, meaning that cars can't use the road as a shortcut to Route 31. It also means we can haul ourselves up the 10% grade without cars getting in the way. There's more hill on the other side of 31, but that felt like nothing compared to what we'd just done.

We crossed 31 again at Woodsville Road, and once more at Rocktown. Here, Jim incited a mutiny, refusing to ride directly across. Instead, we all followed Pete the wrong way up 31 to where Rocktown Hill Road comes out on the other side. There is a wide shoulder on the northbound side or 31, and the line of sight is better there. Still, I'm not sure how much safer it is, what with us riding against traffic and all. 

When we got to Gulick Road, there were cows.

Those who didn't stop for the cows were around the corner, where there's that gap between the trees at a long driveway and you can see the next set of hills beyond Lambertville.

Before stashing my camera, I zoomed in for photos of the edge of the cow pasture we'd already passed.

We spent a long time on Route 179. It presents itself as a busy road, but it's not, really. There's a wide shoulder almost all the way down to Lambertville. There's also a stealth hill between Mount Airy-Harbourton and Mill Road that I always forget about.

And, in the middle of nowhere, there's a new Dollar General. What a strange place for a store like that.

We turned off on York Road and wound our way to the Lambertville Bakehouse. 

I like cookies and muffins. But I'm a fat woman trying to pass as normal. I have food issues. At a rest stop, I don't allow myself more than 200 calories, which is an energy bar from home, or the top of a muffin, or half a cookie. Those calories come out of my lunch allotment. This is why I buy muffins and cookies to take home. I can eat them later, after dinner, half at a time, if I plan things right. I've had this arm's-length reationship with food ever since I starved myself in high school. I was fat-shamed before that and have been fat-shamed since. It's especially difficult as a member of a bike club, where being lightweight is everything, and where I'm among skinny folks who have always been able to eat whaterver they want whenever they want. 

So when I saw the label on the first row of cookies in the case, I had a problem. "Bikini Killer," it said. I knew it was supposed to be funny, and, for anyone who doesn't have a body like mine, or is a man, I suppose it is. When it was my turn to order, I politely explained why the name of the cookie is problematic. The woman behind the counter said she'd let the owner know. 

Everyone in our group was happy with the baked goods. The coffee, from Homestead Coffee Roasters, could probably stand to be brewed a little stronger. It's a cozy place, but we were the only ones hanging out at the time. We'll come back. 

By our count, there are now four places to get coffee and baked goods in Lambertville: Luminary, Union, Bakehouse, and LTC. I should point out that Lambertville isn't big. 

We climbed out of the valley the usual way, up Rocktown and Dinosaur Hill. We cut over on Rock and spent some time on Route 579, all the way to Woosamonsa. 579 can be busy sometimes. I never feel that it's unsafe, even when the shoulder disappears, but I heard a complaint later. It's really no worse than some of the roads we frequent on the other side of Route 1.

If I'd stayed off of that road, we'd have had even more hills to contend with, in less distance. As it was, we were over my usual 50 feet per mile pattern. There was some patter in the parking lot at the end about whether or not I was starting our spring training early. Nah, I'm simply an asshole who waits until the last minute to come up with a route that isn't the same old thing. There's a reason we do the same old thing, of course: the same old thing has all the good roads.