locked-out ride

 When we got to the start at Etra Lake Park, not only was the parking lot still locked, but so was the lot for the athletic field on the other side of Disbrow Hill Road.

A certain amount of consternation ensued; there were texts and calls to people who were coming to the ride, and discussions about where else we could park. A passing resident told us that she believed that at least one of the locks was placed by a neighbor, rather than any municipal employee.

(I've since mustered up my inner Karen energy and written to the East Windsor Recreation Department, asking if this locking of the lots when the park was supposed to be open was a new practice, whether there was to be any announcement of the policy change, whether it was, indeed, a neighbor who had placed the locks, and were they in the habit of deputizing locals for what I would have thought would be an official township function. Don't mess with me; I am not prone to violence, but my nagging is very likely worse.)

We decided to repair to the Peddie School athletics lot, and left from there.

Tom had set a route of about 30-35 miles, which is about what I like to do these days. And though he set the pace at a higher rate than I like to go, I knew I could keep it up, and even if I could not, the latter part of the route was over roads near my house, that are part of my regular training rides. (Well, they will be "regular" when the weather gets a little more reasonable, and I can get out. IF the weather gets more reasonable; as I write this, we're being threatened with another deep snowstorm, like the one last month.) (Although, as I write this, temps are nowhere near low enough for the snow to stay. But, like Tristram Shandy, I digress.)

(Imagine that: Jim digressing.) 

I needn't have worried about the pace. One of our number, a usually-strong rider, had brought a gravel bike, and between the wide tires and perhaps his February legs, he went at a pace at which I could be conversational.

We headed south-ish, skirting the Assunpink, and then headed east. It was very pleasant being out with people I've been riding with for so many years (nearly twenty, for some of them).  

 We stopped at the Wawa at 33 and Woodland.

 

On the way back, as I noted, we were on the roads near my home. Tom H, who had convened the ride, mentioned that I could have ridden in, and turned off on the way back. I'd thought of riding in, but didn't think of heading home when we were near the house, and I didn't want to do extra miles... but I might ride in and turn off, if the opportunity arises again (and if I think of it, which I may not.)

I mentioned last week about the depression. It's mostly lifted, although I'm left with some of the sequelae (like the several pounds I'd like to lose so that I don't have to buy all new pants, or live in sweats for the rest of my life). I'm glad to have gotten out. And I'm glad to have the friends I do, to go out with, especially at this cold, isolating time of year.

winter blues ride on valentines day

 

The parking lot at the start. If the roads had looked like that, my part of the ride would have been exceptionally short.

I haven't posted about a ride in a while. A little of that has been due to the cold and snow (this snow has been hanging around over three weeks. It's nearly unprecedented), but I have been on a ride since the last post. I'd planned to write it up the following day, but that night, my wife and I were in an auto collision.Nobody was hurt, and it was not our fault... but the other driver lied to the policeman, and the policeman wrote it up as the other driver's story. I've had depression, and some post-traumatic stress, over that. 

So much so, that The Excellent Wife (TEW) of almost twenty-nine years, on this Valentine's Day, when she heard that Laura OLPH had posted a ride, told me I was going on the ride and we would remember Valentine's Day in some other way (we're working it out). It was to be only thirty miles, and only one demanding hill. And TEW was not to be argued with.

Still, I worried about being able to do it. Between the depression, some weight gain (I'm sure related to the depression), and winter out-of-shape-ness, I was afraid I'd be off the back. And there WAS all that snow. It has cleared off the roads in the lowlands here, but what would the roads look like up in the Sourlands, where we'd be riding?

You've seen the pics at the top of the post. We had about eight cars among the participants, and had to find places where we wouldn't a) get stuck in the ice, and b) present a barrier to someone else if they wanted to get out of the lot without our having to move our car. I decided that if the roads looked anything like that, I'd bail.

 

 We were ten. Laura's blessedly short route was clear (mostly) of ice and snow (there was some melt-and-refreeze that we had to deal with). And the only demanding climb was the one at Stony Brook. We mostly stayed together until we didn't -- we can blame winter legs, and one rider on a fat-tire gravel bike. A rider was new to our group, and I volunteered to sweep, because that "Jim's gotta be a caretaker" thing dies hard, especially when I'm fighting off a bit of depression (have I mentioned that enough yet?)

 

 

We stopped at Boro Bean, after a bit of kerfuffle about the route. We weren't sure the Bean was open (it was)... and we had to get creative about putting the bikes up; nobody had been diligent about clearing the bike racks.

And, of course, nobody was sitting outside at Boro Bean, as the outdoor tables were still nearly seat-deep in snow. 

 And back. I'm glad I went: it turns out I'm in better physical shape than I thought I was, and it was a tonic to get out of the house, do something outdoors (that didn't have to do with moving snow or ice), and see people who I like and who like me. 

Ride page. 

But I'm so done with all this snow and ice. (I'm done with ICE, too, but that will be a blog post that doesn't get shared.)