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.)

two things i know

 Two things I know:

1. The good opinion of a fool is not worth having.
2. It is an honor to have certain people as enemies. 

old & in the way

Hank Green is just the most recent example, but it's recently become inescapable to me that there are people younger than I who are smarter, better-spoken, or more accomplished than I, or all three.

 I live in an over-55 community, and its not true with the people I meet here... but whenever I gather with people outside this community, I'm among the oldest in the group. And there are always people with knowledge I don't have, attitudes and ideas I haven't thought of, stuff I haven't done (and may never be able to do).

I don't always like the way the world is going, but it's no longer the world of my generation. It's time to let it go. It's time for something new. And whether it will work out or not... will be the results of not only my generation's activity, but (primarily) the results of people younger than I am. I'll do my bit (like actively resisting the devolution of the US into fascism), and we'll just have to see what comes along. (I have faith that people will work it out. It may take time, it may be painful and bloody, but it will work out. The kids are all right.)

(The post title is a reference to what Jerry Garcia was doing before that other band he was in.) 

along for the ride

 

I usually lead rides on Sundays, but I could not get it together to list anything for today. Partly it was having the All-Paces ride to lead on July 4; partly it was not having a route in mind (the favorite stop on one of my routes has closed on Sundays; another is longer than I think I'm able to go this year, although some of my ability seems to be returning). Partly it's depression and anxiety, generally. As some others of us are, I'm having a hard time.

Whatever. Al P and Joe M were leading a ride this morning out of Byron Johnson Park in Allentown. When I first looked at it, it had five registrants; by the time I actually signed up, there were fifteen... and when I looked this morning, it was capped at sixteen; Al probably looked at the registrations and decided enough is enough... so I got in just in time. (But there were fourteen when we departed.)

 

Four or five of 'em disappeared off the front fairly early on. The rest of us got spread out, and I fed my caretaking (and probably paternalistic) desires by rolling in the back and making sure we were all keeping up, kinda. 

 

Personal note of hope: I used to be good at ascending long, not-too-steep hills. Some of that ability came back today. I have had too inconsistent abilities lately to say that it's back for good... but on this day, this septuagenarian was riding OK. Even towards the end of the ride.

We stopped at that Charleston Coffee and the associated bagel shop.

 Al's decided on a more sensible way to make that left turn onto Pinehurst than trying to come out of the driveway across traffic; instead, he takes the left out of the other driveway onto Lakehurst, rolls up to the traffic light, and turns left onto Pinehurst from there. I'm planning to adopt that plan in the future.

And back to the park. You can see the ride page here. 

Most were faster than I, although I had more strength today than I showed, hanging out in the back. It was a good ride, on a not-too-hot day. 

On some days, doing a ride, with people you like, is the right thing to do to resist the evil and the crazy. 

more is coming; it will get better

 

A couple of years ago, I posted about a particularly bad time for my mental health (yeah, this is a link to the original post); I'd driven to scope out a location for suicide. I've posted about my fragile mental health here a couple of times since (like this post, and this one), and I refer to it in a few of my ride posts. For suicide prevention month or mental health month, I link to one of these from my Facebook page.

The tattoo above, on my left wrist, is a reminder. It was commonly, for a while, about suicide awareness and mental health generally. Amy Bleuel, who began Project Semicolon, later died of suicide.

This shit is no joke.

It also doesn't just go away. A few weeks ago, I could tell that the anxiety and depression was trying to come back, and, a week or two ago, it did. Attaching to some of the most minor of occurrences, it took over my life for a few days, and I was thinking of suicide again.

I got through it, but it was bad.

 So now there's the ampersand on my right wrist. I hope it will be a reminder that more is coming; that when things are bad, they won't always be, it will get better.

(The tattoo artist pointed out that it would be upside-down when my arms are hanging and others see it. That's OK; it's not for them.)

Thanks for listening.

despite the bonk, did better than i expected

Above, the author having better success than he ought changing a tire. Below, the impressive piece of glass that caused the offense.

I agonized about going on this ride today. In better days, this would have been an easy decision: a number of friends were going on a 30-35-mile ride, on a balmy day at the end of December, a day that was a break from gelid temperatures past and to come. But I haven't been in shape; I've been recovering from COVID and in poor mental health (as I've written), and, even though I rode with some of these folks on a towpath ride a few days ago, this was to be a longer ride, on road, and I wasn't sure I was going to keep up.

With the encouragement of The Excellent Wife (TEW), I went anyway.

 We were seven, and did a route that Tom H sent along. We left from Byron Johnson park, in hopes that the toilets might be open (they weren't...). 

We hadn't counted on the wind. I've since learned that the winds were 25mph gusting up to 32, and I'm here to tell you I believe it. We had a number of rides into the wind, and they were demanding (although the tailwinds were fun).

About three miles in, Heddy couldn't figure out why she was having such trouble; it turned out she had picked up that impressive piece of glass at the top of the post. I helped change the tire, and am disgustingly proud of myself that I got her Continental tire (notoriously a tight fit) off her carbon wheel (also usually a tight fit), by hand, with only a little help from a tire lever, and got the tire back on without the use of the lever at all. With the help of her CO₂ system, we were back on the road quickly. There was a certain amount of banter questioning my mechanic certification, so I'll post a photo or two of it on my garage brag wall at the bottom of this post.

We didn't plan a break on this ride... but that doesn't mean we didn't take any. First, about halfway through, we passed a cow farm. On the narrow road, there was a truck stopped in front of us, and an oncoming backhoe... and on the road surface itself, about an inch of wet mud and dung from the animals. (I made a point of cleaning the bike when I got back; the shoes, however...)

Yuck.

We also decided that we needed to stop for a toilet break. Tom adjusted the route to try to find one, but two places didn't have the expected porta-potty, and some of our number ducked into Roy's as we passed. 

Roy's has not been happy with bicyclists in the past, as they have made abundantly clear, and they have a sign on the door with the implication:

 But apparently our two riders left satisfied.

The last bit of the ride was a slog into the wind along Stone Tavern Road for about 3+ miles... and I just didn't have it; I bonked before the light at Old York, and, although I did get back to the car, I did so at a nearly funereal pace.

Still, I did better than I expected; were it not for the wind, I expect I would have been fine. The rest of the gang will do another ride tomorrow; I won't be recovered for that... but I expect to be able to get into condition to lead my usual rides next year (as I did not in 2024).

Two more bits of business: first, the ride page, which most of you will ignore... and second, my garage brag wall, with my mechanic certification:

christmas traditions

 Why not? It's been too long since I posted: I haven't done a ride in forever, and I'm still recovering from COVID (I'm weak and out of condition, and afraid I'll never be able to ride with my friends again), and there's been lots of other unpleasantness*. But last year, I posted about some personal Christmas traditions, so lets do another post about that stuff, and maybe I'll start posting generally again.

Every year, I re-read Charles Dickens A Christmas Carol; I often see one of the movie adaptations, but that hasn't worked out for this year (largely because I've been too lazy to seek one). I didn't see that the Princeton Library was doing the read-along (and I couldn't get through that anyway; my declining mental health found me weeping uncontrollably about halfway through Stave Three, the Ghost of Christmas Present, the last time I went). Still, I read it myself. Since I've been through it so frequently, I find I have memorized some parts - I've been able to rattle off Scrooge's dismissal of Christmas celebrants for years:

"If I could work my will,” said Scrooge indignantly, “every idiot who goes about with ‘Merry Christmas’ on his lips, should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. He should!”

 This time I found myself taken by Marley's Ghost's description of his business:

“Business!” cried the Ghost, wringing its hands again. “Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence, were, all, my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!”

 I may need to make a point of memorizing that one, as well.

Another one of my traditions is looking up singer-songwriter Dodie's "Christmas Songs in a Minor Key". I think she's stopped doing them (I don't see any later than two years ago), but I haven't stopped loving them. I'll post a couple of links: you'll either love them or hate them, but I'm sure you'll find 'em memorable:

*Death of a nephew, death of my brother-in-law, illness, weakness. Accepting the loss of some capabilities I once had. Some stuff that's none of your business. Drifting away from some old friends. Having some pleasant illusions sadly broken.

Still: there are blessings in life. It will not always be cold and dark; light and warmth will return. There are people who care about me. There is possibility of new opportunities and friendships. I'm not giving up yet.

the right thing to do

 I haven't ridden much on a couple of months other than a few miles around the over-55 community in which I live. Some of that was due to conflicts and being busy, some due to illness (I had a cold that persisted over 2 weeks; gone are the days when I could have a cold for two or three days and then get back to feeling normal [I tested; I was negative for COVID]). A lot of it was depression over the way the election was going, and then the way it turned out. I just haven't felt like doing much.

But it became clear that I had to get out and do something rather than just sit in my misery. From previous episodes of this type, I know that one of the things that may work is going ahead and doing the things that I would be doing if I had the energy and desire, because sometimes the energy and desire comes back as I do things. So I posted a club ride -- admittedly late (Friday, for a Sunday ride), but posted, nonetheless.

It was a while before I got any takers. Then they started to drift in: one, then two more; eventually I had six, plus me.

I chose a short, not-too-hilly route to a favorite stop, the Italian bakery in Raritan. I've got a couple of routes that go there: the one I'll link below, and one a few miles longer that goes through Neshanic... but I really didn't feel up to the Neshanic route today (there's a hill that another rider complains about, and I don't like some of the roads), so we did the other.

Even with a group of only seven, I had one or two riding off the front, one at the back who was saving energy for another day, one who I had expected to be stronger, but who showed signs of flagging. Our average speeds probably ranged from 14-16mph. When we first started, I wasn't sure I was going to make he distance... but by the end, I know I could have gone farther or faster (I make a point of keeping an eye on the people in the back).

Our stop was at that bakery:

I can sometimes use  a ride to dispel the gloom. That wasn't the case today; I'm still subdued and not eager to engage with people. But getting out and leading this ride was the right thing to do. On to finding the next right thing.

Ride page.