Cranky for No Good Reason

23 February 2014

For the first time in three weeks the roads were clear, the air was above freezing, the sun was out, and we were on our bikes two days in a row.  We ought to have been ecstatic today.  We weren't.

It's not Winter Larry's fault that we spent a lot of time waiting for flats to be fixed.  It's not his fault that we spent much of our time with one hand on the handle bars and the pointing out potholes.  We did that yesterday too.

Maybe it's because we're not in good enough condition yet to enjoy two days in a row.  Maybe we blew ourselves out yesterday, had too much fun, and were just tired enough not to be our usual, goofy selves.

I'm never at my best on Sundays anyway because I'm usually leading or following some sort of epic adventure the day before.  Today I didn't really hit my stride until we were about 29 miles into the ride.  We only went 34 miles.

My burst of energy coincided with all of us gathered at the intersection of Butcher Road and Route 33.  "Here comes the Macho Mile," I said.

"Macho Mile?"  May asked.

"Yeah.  Everybody knows where he is now and everyone takes off.  The ride splinters into a million pieces."

"Green up!"

And we were off.

"Hey, Larry, remember when this water tower was being built?"

"Yeah.  It took years."

"We've been doing this a long time."

Left at the restaurant -- it's been Ouzo for a few years now, probably a record -- and the group splintered into the wind.

When I get to Halsey Reed I pick one of three songs to get me home.  Today it was Whirly 3.

I was taking my helmet off at my car when Plain Jim came up to me.  "What's this about the Macho Mile?"

"I had to demonstrate," I said.  "Maybe I'll blog about it."

In Which We Sort of Get It Together

Hopewell-Amwell Road

22 February 2014

I'm halfway through my mug of Death Wish-Steady Eddy (do they cancel each other out?) when I think I see a black Prius driven by a red jersey pass the house and keep on going.  It's 8:45.  We leave at 9:30. This is early even for Plain Jim.  I don't see him pass again.  Maybe he's gone to the diner to pass the time.

I'm ready early.  I have time to play fetch with Moxie (yes, he's a cat, and yes, he fetches; all three do).  Then Chris pulls in, two wheels into the snow.  Then Jim is back, and Ed, and Ron.  Chris had to extricate Jim's car from the snow, and Ed found himself at Quakerbridge Mall or something, and Ed pulls into my driveway (finally somebody has!), and we're five minutes past the time we need to leave, but Ed is still getting his shoes on.

We leave in a hurry, but when I look back there are only three of us.  "Ed forgot his gloves," Chris says.  "They'll catch up.  Jim knows where to go."  That'll ruin Jim's reputation for sure, if it gets out that he knows where he is.

9:59, within sight of the Hopewell Administration Building (not the YMCA!), Miss Piggy stuffs her chain between the front chain ring and the frame. This happens as Jim and Ed catch up.  I send everyone on but Ed and Ron stay to help me extricate the chain.

At 10:02 we pull in, two people ready to go, one more driving in, and two more arriving by bike.  When I see that Sean is among our number, my decision is made.  We're going to Lambertville.  I'd promised him I'd take him there someday.  He's on his cross bike.  He'll be the only one who won't need to dodge the new crop of potholes.

The potholes keep the ride interesting.  It's a new slew of landmarks we'll have to memorize.  Pennington-Rocky Hill Road is going to be detoured around the bridge soon.  Federal City to Old Mill will add some miles.

We're heading to Province Line Road.  We're taking it all the way to its northern end.  I do this to the Slugs every spring.  The view balances out the pain.

This is the fun part, the roller coaster from Cherry Valley to Route 518. That's Sean about to descend:

On our way up the second half of Province Line, Sean and I look at an ivy-laced silo.  I contemplate getting a picture.  "Naah," I decide.  "Too phallic."  Sean suggests that it needs a pair of hay bales at the base.

Then the fun begins.  It's not as tough as I remember.  More than enough sleep? Death Wish doing the work?  The fact that's it's nearing 50 degrees right now? The marathon training sessions on Gonzo?  All of the above?  Anyway, I'm not pushing.  It's not my job to be out in front; it's my job to keep my eyes on everyone.

Hopewell-Amwell Road:

We cut west on Ridge, then Mountain.  One of our number, riding too close to the side of the road, finds himself half-sideways in a snow bank.  He dusts himself off, unhurt.  I look at his imprint in the snow, but he's so light that he's barely left a mark.

Plain Jim sings us through Route 31 at Rocktown Road.  It's the Lord's Prayer, in Latin:

"Pater noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum.
Adveniat regnum tuum. 
Fiat 

CAR!

voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra. 
Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie, et dimitte nobis debita nostra sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris. 
Et ne nos inducas in tentationem, sed libera nos a malo."

I want Sean to see Mount Airy and Alexauken Creek, so even though we've got 20 miles under us, I aim us towards the scenery.  "Wait at the cows," I instruct.

Jim says, "Where you'll take pictures."

"Of course."

Sean is digging the view.

Alexauken Creek Road blows his mind too, as does a ginger cookie at Rojo's (via Lovin' Oven).  I choose fruit-nut, and we each down a Red-Eye (that's a cup of drip coffee with a shot of espresso).

At the top of Rocktown, I wave Chris on with "Right turn!" seconds before somebody calls out, "Flat!"  Chris is long gone, and it takes us a CO2 cartridge, a hand pump, another new tube (the first being shredded at the valve), and another cartridge to set things right.

We turn onto Dinosaur Hill, then head across 518 to one of the two hills around here that's worse than it looks.

Ron's chain, being on the same model as Miss Piggy, and jealous of her earlier antics, hops off the rear cog into the spokes.  It takes a few minutes to untangle that.  Chris must be back at my house by now.

The rest is downhill and flat, and studded with fresh potholes to the point of requiring single-track mountain biking skills.  We get through it without incident. Chris is waiting at the entrance to the parking lot.

The five of us dodge more potholes on the way home, the road being much worse in this direction.

It's Chris' turn to be stuck in the snow, the right rear wheel of his truck spinning furiously. I offer to dig him out.  When I come back with the shovel, he's freed himself and is heading down the road.  I make sure Ed knows how to get home without going to the mall.  Miss Piggy gets hosed down.

Burnaby sleeps through the whole thing:

Good idea.  I should stretch.

Tomorrow has us following Winter Larry through the flatlands.

Hill Slugs Ad Hoc, Saturday, 22 February

UPDATE (21 February): The ride is on!

my car, a tree, and several weeks of snowstorms

18 February 2014

Dare I think it?  Is it too early in the week to think it?  Sunny skies, temperatures above freezing, dry roads?

Hell, yeah, let's dream for  a few days and pretend like we're going on a bike ride on Saturday.

Let's plan on a 10:00 a.m. start from the Hopewell YMCA on Main Street, across from Ingleside, in Pennington.  Plan on 40-something miles.  For an extra 11 miles, meet me at my house for a 9:30 a.m. start.

Check back here on Friday for confirmation or exasperation.

What Tom Said

15 February 2013

http://frisket.blogspot.com/2014/02/note-to-weather-god.html?m=1

Can I get an amen from the choir?

Holy Light Switch, Batman!

(image courtesy of batsound.com)

14 February 2014

Today I walked around the lab with a bat detector.  I got it from the guy who sometimes borrows our manatee brain.

Um, what?

My day job is oftentimes so absurd that my work dreams are more realistic.

So you dreamed there were bats hiding in the lab?

It was the lights, actually, and I didn't dream it.  Motion detector lights.  The kind that turn on when you enter a room.  All of the motion detectors in the new building use infrared sensors.  Some also use ultrasound. The detectors are almost everywhere, except the animal holding rooms because those are on a strict light cycle.

OK.  That's kinda creepy-cool.  So why were you--?

Because rodents can hear in the ultrasound range.  They communicate in ultrasound.

Wow, OK, so...

Imagine hearing a dial tone in your head all day.  

That would suck.  That would drive me crazy.

I have tinnitus.  It does suck.  It has, at times, driven me crazy.  Anyway, we study mouse behavior, and we don't want the little guys to be stressed out.  They might well be hearing the equivalent of loud restaurant chatter whenever they leave their holding room.

Why the bat detector?

Bats communicate with ultrasound, which we can't hear.  So the detector converts that to tinnitus -- I mean an audible squeal -- er, tone.  So today I went around listening to the lab shrieking.

What are you guys going to do?

In our lab, the building manager cut the wires in two of our rooms.  No lights, but no more noise.  Later we learned that another lab found the off switch on the sensors.

Oops.

Yeah, well, it ain't our money gonna fix it. Plus now I know how to use a bat detector.

What about the manatee brain?

Oh, that's still in the cold room in the old building.  We'll move it over one of these days.

*****

A propos of nothing, the full moon is bright on the snow tonight.

Sunsets and Snow

13 February 2014

One of these days we'll see pavement and temperatures above freezing at the same time.

Meanwhile, here are more sunsets and snow as seen from the new lab.

This is the view from one of the offices a floor below me.  My cell phone and light from the hallway are reflecting on the window; sorry about that.

Upstairs at my desk, 35 minutes later:

Three days later:

That night, at home, on the railing at our front door:

Yesterday, as the nor'easter rolled in:

Hill Slugs Ad Hoc, Saturday, 15 February

UPDATE:  This ride will be postponed until February 22.

13 February 2014

Saturday at 9:00 a.m., have a good breakfast and a pot of strong coffee.

At 10:00 a.m., get on your wind trainer, fluid trainer, rollers, elliptical cross-trainer, treadmill, stationary bike, whatever, and stay there for two hours with your heart rate between 65% and 80% of your maximum.