Girls with Slingshots is a comic that's finished, but it's now on its third daily repeat. I love it, and check it every weekday. In the comic, Jim is a hapless, decent, but ultimately uninteresting guy.
I know somebody like that.
I ride the bike because I love riding the bike, of course, but I also ride for the social experience of riding with the club. When Laura OLPH
posted a club ride for yesterday, I noted the distance, and that it was
a large amount of climb for the distance, and didn't think much more
about it than that.
Laura limits her rides to ten, and this one was almost full, after a more-or-less regular cancelled. We were chatting in the lot and rolling around when Laura rolled up. She gave the usual safety speech, and dropped mentioned we'd be going up Mine Road in Hopewell, a demanding climb.
I started to worry. The Excellent Wife (TEW) and I are in the process of buying a home in Monroe. I'm excited and a bit anxious about it, and I haven't been sleeping well (I'm writing this on about the fourth or fifth night in a row on which I've awakened after about four hours, unable to get back to sleep). Mine Road, and the other hills on the ride, were likely to be a problem for me. I decided to do the ride anyway.
Shortly before the first hill, a rider got a flat. We didn't check the tire adequately for whatever caused the puncture, and soon after (just at the bottom of Mine Road), he got another. I'm good with changing tires, and pulled out my Tire Monkey for the removal and replacement (many riders have favorite tire tools; this one's mine), and then used my Topeak Race Rocket to get a little air in for the tube-and-tire mount, and the Genuine Innovations Air Chuck Elite for the CO2 (fellow riders were impressed enough with the tools that they asked for links. Those may be the only reason I'm actually writing this post).
Then up Mine Hill, which went OK... but I immediately felt that I wasn't rebounding from the exertion of the climb the way I expected to, and that continued through the rest of the ride. I fell behind in several places, but some members of the group waited. I also found I was cranky about unexpected rider behavior (and these were mostly people with whom I ride regularly). We stopped at the cafe in Sergeantsville that replaced the bagel shop there (I like the place; I wish them well and recommend a stop there when you go). I loaded up with some carbs, and got some benefit from that, but I continued to fall off the back of the group. Two of the riders, at various points, fell back from the rest to converse; both were chatty and pleasant, but I'm sure they were checking to make sure I'd be OK to get back.
I got back, but I was far more tired, and hurt worse from the exertion, than I like to get on a ride; if there had been more traffic, or if an unexpected situation had arisen, the ride outcome might have been different. This ride was clearly more than I should have done for my current level of fitness and my tired condition. I need to pay more attention to the demands of the planned ride, and not go long just because, "well, heck, I always ride with these guys."
Or maybe I need to stop complaining, and do hard and unpleasant things. Or maybe that ride really was risky.
I don't know.
It's been called "the best cover letter ever written". Then-copywriter, soon-to-be-screenwriter Robert Pirosh wrote it in 1934:
Dear Sir:
I like words. I like fat buttery words, such as ooze, turpitude, glutinous, toady. I like solemn, angular, creaky words, such as straitlaced, cantankerous, pecunious, valedictory. I like spurious, black-is-white words, such as mortician, liquidate, tonsorial, demi-monde. I like suave “V” words, such as Svengali, svelte, bravura, verve. I like crunchy, brittle, crackly words, such as splinter, grapple, jostle, crusty. I like sullen, crabbed, scowling words, such as skulk, glower, scabby, churl. I like Oh-Heavens, my-gracious, land’s-sake words, such as tricksy, tucker, genteel, horrid. I like elegant, flowery words, such as estivate, peregrinate, elysium, halcyon. I like wormy, squirmy, mealy words, such as crawl, blubber, squeal, drip. I like sniggly, chuckling words, such as cowlick, gurgle, bubble and burp.
I like the word screenwriter better than copywriter, so I decided to quit my job in a New York advertising agency and try my luck in Hollywood, but before taking the plunge I went to Europe for a year of study, contemplation and horsing around.
I have just returned and I still like words.
May I have a few with you?
Robert Pirosh
385 Madison Avenue
Room 610
New York
Eldorado 5-6024
I got it from Rob at RobWords in his weekly email; he included a link to Benedict Cumberbatch having more fun with it than anybody ever should.
It worked. It got Pirosh a job at MGM.
A few weeks ago I was on a ride that took us that part of Province Line Road that's closed to vehicular traffic (bicycles aren't vehicles in NJ, go look it up). Someone asked how steep the climb on the south side of the bridge over Stony Brook was. I said it had to be less than 26%, because I know by experiment that I can't keep the front wheel down at that grade (I never stand on the pedals, as many cyclists do when climbing a steep grade; I'll get off and walk if the grade is too steep to pedal).
Another cyclist (with more experience than I have) said that the grade at that point was about 8% or 9%... but after having just ridden it, I knew it had to be steeper than that; I was working far too hard at one point for that to have been the grade. So I resolved to go out and measure.
Now, according to the US Geological Survey,
Percent of slope is determined by dividing the amount of elevation change by the amount of horizontal distance covered (sometimes referred to as "the rise divided by the run"), and then multiplying the result by 100.
So I decided to take my four-foot level and a metal tape measure, and go find out the numbers.
Why a four-foot level? Well, I know from measuring the distance between the hubs that the wheelbase of the Yellow Maserati*, my titanium bike, is just under 39". So a four-foot level is about the length of the bike. I figured I could rest the uphill corner of the level on the road, hold it so that the bubble showed level, and drop the ruler from the other end to the road surface to get the difference in rise. And four feet would be big enough that I could measure to the nearest quarter-inch, and still have useful accuracy. I'd be creating a right triangle, with one of the non-hypotenuse sides of four feet, and Pythagoras implies that the hypotenuse (in this case, the road surface) has to be longer than either of the other sides.
So on a morning that didn't get above freezing, the determined detective might have found me sitting on the cold pavement above the bridge over Stony Brook on Province Line Road, taking measurements.
I first took the measurement just at the point the road begins to climb on the south side of the bridge. with one end of the level on the road surface, the rise at the other end was 4 ¼" - just about 9%.
It still didn't feel right. I noticed a steeper spot further up the hill. I took two measurement there; one was 6 ¾", and the other was a shade over 7". Aha! Just about 15%. Nowhere close to the 26% I'd thought, but much more than the 8-9% reported by the fellow cyclist.
I suspect this is a "measuring the coastline" problem. Mapmakers (aren't you glad I didn't say "cartographers"?), geographers, those who study fractals... all point out that the measurement of a coastline depends on the unit of measure you choose, and the smaller the unit, the longer the coastline becomes (even though the area of the land it encloses is unchanged). If your unit of measure is a mile, you'll get a certain distance, but you'll miss much of the detail of the coastline. If your unit of measure is as small as a grin of sand, you'll get much more detail (and a much longer coastline!).
In the case of Province Line Road, I suspect the grade out of the bridge is 9%, at some longer unit of measure than I used. But when you're pedaling a bicycle out of there, a unit of measure about as long as the bike is probably more useful.
In other news, I've just confirmed the fact that I'm the kind of old geezer who will ruminate for weeks on a useless problem, and then go out on a frigid day with tools in hand to go solve it. And will then write a needlessly-detailed blog post about it, with references. That's got a certain "Get off my lawn!" energy to it, doesn't it?
*It's the Yellow Maserati because it was one in a series of midlife crisis purchases (as a yellow Maserati might be), and because it is, in actuality, neither yellow nor a Maserati. I was going through a "meta" stage when I was naming it. (I think I'm still going through that "meta" stage.)
It rained last week.
This was on top of rain that had caused flooding (and the closure of the causeways at Griggstown and Blackwells Mills) the week before. The causeways had reopened, but the ground was still so wet, that last week's rain flooded them (and a number of other low-lying roads and bridges in the area) again. The rain that came was not intense, but for a couple of days, it was unrelenting.
Not only were the causeways closed, but the water levels kept rising more than a day after the rain stopped.
Now, when I post rides out of the Claremont School, I ALWAYS cross one of the causeways I mentioned, and sometimes both. So when it looked like the causeways might still be closed for today's ride, I considered not posting anything...
... and then I thought, "Maybe I can start a ride at that Veterans Park in Montgomery". The park is called Montgomery Veterans Park. So I adjusted a route that goes to that Italian Bakery in Raritan, and came up with a route of 37 miles. That's pretty good!
When I tried to post the ride, though, Google decided that Montgomery Veterans Park is in Belle Mead, rather than Montgomery, and you can't get the address of the entrance, so I had to post the address as, "across from 196 Harlingen Road, Belle Mead".
Whatever. All seven of my registrants found the start, although some were at the UPPER lot, while I (and some others) were at the LOWER lot. The lower lot is the one with the porta-potty (and the restrooms open, in season). I rode back-and-forth between the lots, assuring people they were in more-or-less the right place, and we'd be sure to collect everybody before we got onto the route.
The route. Here's another case of RideWithGPS routing software hugely underestimating the climb: the route plan was 34.7 miles with about 1100' of climb. Laura OLPH said she thought it might be a flat route...
... but there's that climb on East Mountain (not as bad as the annoying hill in the other direction, but you do have to get over the same elevation), and the hill at River Road onto South Branch Road, and that other hill on South Branch Road, and the one just before Old York, and a few bumps on Roycefield, and you gotta get up Amwell to Amsterdam...
... and the next thing you know, you're ending the ride with 1600' of climb in the 35-miles-or-so. (But the link shows we brought it in right in the middle of the C+ range, despite having some fast horses along.)
And speaking of the fast horses, my thanks to them for letting an old guy make believe he can keep up with 'em.
I love that Italian Bakery. The bake-y stuff is good, and I don't get complaints about the quality of the coffee. And they treat us decently.
So that's the last ride for the year. According to my RideWithGPS page, I logged a little over 4500 miles this year on 231 rides. That's a pretty good number of days on the bike, but not as many miles as I'd hoped; I hope to do more in 2024. And I led 36 rides for the club; not as many as the 40 I had hoped for, but weather and life's demands got in the way.
And I wish I had a fancy, pithy button-up for the end of this last post for the year, but I don't. Here's wishing youse health and success, and good company.
Dave H posted a club ride for today out of Skillman Park, with what RideWithGPS said was gonna be about 1600' of climb. A number of my favorite club members were registered, and I decided to go.
The first other person at the start was Heddy.
Heddy had a new toy for the cold weather: battery-driven heated socks, connected to an app on her phone for controls and reporting on the state of the batteries (one for each leg). Another rider remembered Elton John's lyric from Bennie and the Jets:
She's got electric boots, a mohair suit,
Y'know I read it in a magazine...
And the others:
Shortly after we started, we turned west onto Skillman Road to face the perpetual headwind, for which Laura OLPH took credit (if there's not a wind from the west on Skillman Road, then something dire is happening with the weather). Then we started the climb up Hollow Road towards Zion, and then further up on Lindbergh... and I got the suspicion that the reported 1600' of climb at RideWithGPS might be an underestimate. My device was already reporting 900', and it told me we had three more rated climbs (the GPS device has a function that rates climbs if they are long and steep enough. I regularly have more of them than fellow riders on their devices; I tell them that this is because my device is in "old man mode"). I remember complaining that I was too old be be doing climbs like this; Heddy later pointed out that I was saying this as I was passing her on an uphill. (Don't worry: Heddy passed me often enough that I won't get a swollen head.)
A few of us at the Boro Bean:
And between us and a few other riders there, there was a gorgeous chaos of bikes.
I noticed Dave saddling up as if to go, and others doing the same. We got started on the route again, but we'd left several behind who weren't ready to come out with us yet. They pointed out the problem when they caught up with us. It shouldn't happen, and it can be a problem with large groups. Edit: I have been confronted about the way I originally wrote about this. I have removed the offending language.
On we went. Dave had set the route so we avoided some of the worst short, sharp shock hills and the worst traffic; I may use some of these roads on my future rides. We went the other way on Opossum, which means we went DOWN the hill that's so unpleasant when you go UP it, and we went the right way across the one-way bridge. Laura pointed out that it was more pleasant this way... but that way doesn't go the way I usually want to go!
Ghina, Stacey, and EZ mugging at the end:
Yeah, and remember that reported 1600' of climb? The ride page says it was actually over 2000'. RideWithGPS routing climb estimates may have the reliability of Tiktok influencers. Just sayin'.
Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and my Polish wife's family still do all the Wigilia stuff: the celebration is on Christmas Eve rather than Christmas Day, there will be a number of different dishes, but none with meat (because on Christmas Eve, the animals* talked about the birth of Jesus, and you don't eat creatures with whom you might be in conversation at some point), the celebrations go on forever (so don't plan on doing anything else for the day). So I wont do a ride Sunday (for Christmas Eve) or Monday (for Christmas). So today's last-minute-listed-by-Laura OLPH-ride will do for the last ride before Christmas for me (and who's writing this blog post, anyway? Who else counts?).
*Either the fish didn't talk about the birth, or nobody was around to poll them about their views, because there is usually a plethora of fish dishes at the Wigilia celebration. One of the traditional ones is referred to as "Greek Fish", but it's Greek in about the same way as The French Disease is French. "Greek Fish" contains catsup (at least in the versions with which my Polish in-laws are familiar), so calling the fish "Greek" is a slander on things Hellenic.
This isn't much about a bike ride yet, is it?
Laura listed this ride late yesterday (late, partly out of busy-ness, and partly, I think, out of a desire to keep the riff-raff out). I found out about it from an email, and signed up. Ten of us started.
Tom H has been having some health issues, but came to chat anyway.
Longhorn farm?
Yes, longhorn farm. And if we pass anything bovine, Laura's gonna stop for pictures. As did Martin, above.
Above in grey, Eric H. We haven't seen much of him for a while due to medical issues, either; I'm glad he's back.
On to Charleston Coffee for the stop.
(I ducked out a bit early to cross at the traffic light. The mid-block crossing-and-left-turn, above, while not really dangerous, is more stressful than an old guy like me needs. And I got that pic at the top of the post from it.)
This is one of those front-loaded routes, where the stop comes 28 miles into this 43-mile route, and the fifteen miles back is more direct (well, direct for bike-friendly roads, anyway). You can go check it out on the ride page.
And so, tomorrow, while I'm doing the best I can to feel fellowship with the in-laws, I'll have this pleasantness as fuel for my patience and forbearance.
