good ride, but the fox hunt pics didn't come out

 

That was the best of a bad lot of pictures I took of a fox hunt we came across on the ride today, as we went through the Assunpink.

Tom H emailed a few of his Insane Bike Posse about a 30-ish-mile ride he wanted to do today, as temps wouldn't be quite as frigid as we've had, week after week this winter. Despite my poor performance last week, I decided to try again (I was hoping that the workout last week would have started to get me in shape for this riding season).

Four of us came out: Tom and me, and Peter G and Heddy. 

 (There's a fox hunter in red, off in the distance, on that last one.) Tom had a mostly flat, 32-mile route out of Etra Park, and now that I'm living in Monroe, if I'd had reasonably good bike legs, I'd have ridden to the start and turned off when we got near my house... but I knew I wasn't ready for that.

Tom was right: it wasn't as cold as it had been, and, while there was little conversation on this ride other than at stops (at least for me), it was a companionable ride. I kept up well through the stop at the Wawa at Woodward Road and Route 33. (I say stop: it's true we did stop there, but we did not actually enter the store, neither for purchases nor for plumbing.)

 I was riding fairly well, especially compared to the miserable time I'd had the week before. In fact, I was even able to take a pull into the headwind that inevitably developed in the last third of the ride. 

I finished with the group, and thanked them profusely for having gone easy on me. I wound up with an average speed of 14.1, which is good for my age and condition, and the earliness in the season.

None of youse will actually check it, but here's a link to the ride page. 

I'm feeling a bit less like I'm going to have to give up the bike and pick up a crocheting needle instead.

barely keeping up on a cold day

 

I went for a ride with some of my usuals yesterday, in spite of the temps that never got out of the low 30s and the threat of snow (it came later, but it was threatened, nonetheless).

I set up a quick spreadsheet (because of course I did). Since the first of the year (so, a little over six weeks), I'd done two rides totaling 25.2 miles. Since Thanksgiving, I'd done less than 100 miles. Despite daily workouts, I knew my fitness wasn't up to much of a ride. And because of that, I'd avoided a the few rides that my usual partners had gone; nobody likes to be the one dragging the group back, especially when the others are shivering at the stoplight.

But come ON, already. We've had this gelid weather for so long. When I got an invite to a pickup ride, mostly on the Henry Hudson trail, I decided to go along. The trail is fairly flat and somewhat sheltered from the wind... and if I did fall off the back of the group, I'm sure I'd be able to find my way back. Tom H, the convener of the crew, figured about 24 miles. It was possible.

So I loaded up the car (I haven't done it in so long, I had to revert to my lists [because of course I have lists] to make sure I had everything), and headed out to the Sheriff's STAR location on Dutch Lane Road in Freehold.

 Well, I'm still able to keep the bike upright. I was wearing my heaviest, thick gloves from my motorcycling days; they keep my hands warm, but have limited dexterity; I had to learn how to shift in them. Still, I kept up with the group all the way up. We made a quick stop at Big Brook Park...

...and then continued up to the end of the trail, about 12 miles out.

 

At that point, Tom said it was only about another three miles to the waterfront park in Keyport, which would make the total distance a little under 30 miles. Hearing no objections, he led on.

 

 In Keyport:

 

 And back.

 

 By about mile eighteen or nineteen, I started to get sore in my thighs. I barely kept up, and Ricky and I traded places now and again at the back (he said he was tired as well, but he's such a gentleman that he may have just been keeping an eye out for me). I was, of course, thinking that I'd never ride again and this whole thing was a big mistake.

 

But winters the past several years have been mild, at least at times, and I've been able to keep fitness up into the following spring. In earlier years, however, when I didn't ride in the coldest weather, I remember each season having an early ride that was just misery... and then I remember strengthening up as the season progressed. 

 

It's true that I'm close to turning 70, and that my fitness has been falling off since last summer (I've complained that my performance is unreliable). But 2024 wasn't a great year for Jim on the bike. I got only about half the miles in that I had in any of the previous five years, what with illness, weather, and life's conflicts. Still, I'm reasonably sure that I can reach an improvement (even if not to my previous levels of fitness) if I can get back on the bike regularly. The Excellent Wife (TEW) has been urging me to ride the weekday rides, at least once a week, and I've resolved to do that when they resume regularly. And we'll see about the result that brings... if I actually do it (because as I write this, it's still only a resolution).

 

I made it back, mostly with the group... and saw Heddy with this excellent idea, that I'm going to have to steal:

 

She's cleaning off her tires with a whisk broom, before putting the bike in the car. She does it because she likes a clean car, but it strikes me that it would also serve to get the gunk off the bottom of the downtube, bottom bracket, and chainstays. Too many times I've been putting the bike up on the car rack, and noticed I was bringing several pounds of trail surface home with me, and then I'd have to sponge off the bike when I was home, sometimes in conditions that were as cold and unpleasant as those on the ride itself. It won't completely remove the need for that, but the whisk broom could make the subsequent cleanup a lot less unpleasant.

 

In fact, I might actually DO the subsequent cleanup. Ahem.

 

takin' a hike

 

It's been far too cold to ride a bike, and even if it weren't, I don't think I'm up to riding with my usual companions... but The Excellent Wife (TEW) leads hikes for the club in the winter months. I was leaning in the direction of going along on this one; what tipped the scales in favor of getting out of the chair and off my ever-widening posterior was an email exchange among a few of the folks I ride with (or used to ride with, or would ride with if I thought I had even the slimmest chance of actually keeping up with 'em these days), saying that some of 'em planned to go on this hike.

Besides, it sorta counts as a date with TEW.

She had few signups during the week, but by the time we were leaving to go, she had twelve.

TEW is the convener, but she gets others who know the routes to actually lead the hikes. Thanks to Mitch, above, who picked the route and showed us the way.

Club members are barely recognizable when they're not in biking gear.

We were hiking a trail at Baldpate Mountain.

The lot at the start location is one of those where you might only be able to find it if you've been there before. My GPS was almost lost when I tried to zoom in on the location; for future, I'm going to try to remember that the entrance to the lot is between 175 and 176 Pleasant Valley Road in Titusville. (No, I'm not going to remember that, but I might remember having put it in this blog post.)

I thought that tree was great in the snow.

It's a hilly route (not "climbing with hands and knees" hilly, but demanding), and the snow on the ground made me pay attention on some of the descents, but it wasn't anything too difficult for anyone. 

We came across a number of other hikers, some of whom had dogs with 'em, and two cyclists: a mountain biker going up a different trail that we could see from the lot at the end, and a guy on a gravel bike. 

No thanks, not today. Walking was good enough.

beautiful and frightening.

 Original here. Most of his stuff is on, I think, Instagram, but that's harder to link to in this blog.

The artist is named David Szauder. I find the stuff beautiful... but imagine if you lived in a world that changed like that. What could you depend on? How would you have friends? How would you live? What, even, would be the meaning of "you" or "I"?

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:

first ride after covid

 

In my last post, I pointed out that I was recovering from COVID, and had had a number of other difficulties and disappointments during the year; I don't even have 70% of the bike miles I could get in a year when I was working (and I've been retired for a couple years).

COVID had me pretty weak, and even after the infection passed (both times; I was one who got a Paxlovid rebound), I found that even the low exertion of household tasks (like doing the dishes) wore me out to the point I needed a nap; sometimes I was taking three naps in the same day. That, on top of my inconsistent riding performance this year, had me worried whether I'd ever be able to keep up with a group ride again.

Another leader had been dropping hints about a ride over the weekend, but I'm sure I'm not ready to keep up with that group. Tom H, however, sent out an email to some folks about a ride today, the day after Christmas, of about 20 miles on the D&R towpath. I figured I'd try that - I expected the worst that might happen is that it would be clear that I couldn't finish, and I'd turn around and go back the way I'd come. I didn't reply to his email, but I resolved to go.

I almost didn't, and I almost turned back, even when I was in the car on the way. I was sure I'd get dropped; I was sure I wouldn't be able to finish; do I even still like to ride my bike? Maybe I should just stick to mechanic work. Maybe I should give up the bike entirely.

It was cold to start; well below freezing. I have clothes for riding in this weather, but it was another reason to turn back, if I needed one. 

I got to the start at Washington's Crossing, where Heddy was waiting; she emerged from her car and said she wondered if she'd overdressed. (I don't think she had done.) Moments later, Tom rolled in. I hinted at my concerns, and he hastened to assuage my worry - we would probably do fewer miles; it was straight down the towpath on the PA side, then back up the NJ side, and nobody was interested in dropping anyone. A moment later, Martin G rolled in on his mountain bike, bursting with Trenton-area history and trivia, promising a travelogue along the way. And we were off.

I hung back on the outbound trip, and for much of the way through Trenton. It became clear I wouldn't get dropped, and that I'd finish with the others. As we came north by Cadwalader Park, Martin suggested a roll though... and I got ahead of the others, partly driven by the aging man's frequent companion, a gift of urinary urgency. Martin gave a history lesson around the park, pointing out landmarks and landscape features. That was cool.

I continued to lead the group the rest of the way back, heading for the rest room. When I emerged, I didn't see any of the others - it turned out they were griffing up the mileage so they could complete annual totals (the weather through the end of the year does not look promising), they explained so when they returned a minute or two later. We said our goodbyes, and I headed out to complete an errand on the way home.

I'm tired (there is a probable nap in my immediate future), but I'm not crippled, and I did complete the ride. And I'm no longer thinking of giving up the bike entirely. I'm still not ready to do forty-mile-plus rides, but I also think they might be achievable by summer. I've got to get some fitness back, but I have hopes of being able to do so.

Maybe I'll see you on the road. I'll probably wave, and ring the bell.

Ride page (not that you're actually going to look...).

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.