First 200k

Along with fellow bike club member Frank F ('It ain't nifty if it ain't fifty'), and at his suggestion, last September I rode my first century ride in about five years. The ride leader Neil K talked about doing something a little longer next time, which sounded good to us.

Talking with other club members Rick L, Walt P and Dawn E about their randonneuring experiences, I thought some day I might want to participate in a rando brevet. When Rick told me he was hosting his annual 200 kilometer (124 miles) rando ride in April, from the Pines to Salem and back in a figure-eight loop, I thought it was time to give it a go, especially in such a mostly-flat area as 'down Jersey.' I signed up and so did Frank.

In order to train, I did some rides where I pushed my pace. However the rides weren't as many as I'd have liked, due to the uncooperative weather early this year, but they would have to suffice. To prepare my cf endurance bike, I found some clip-on fenders in case we got a rainy day, and fitted them to the bike. But they weren't needed, as it turned out. I installed new tires, tested my front blinky battery and charged my rear blinky battery. The bike's drivetrain was in tune. Good to go.
I followed the advice of some health columns I'd read lately; in the three days and nites prior to the brevet I avoided strenuous exercise, hydrated conscientiously, and made sure I got lots of sleep.

Weather forecast for our ride day (4/14/18) was good (especially for April), mostly sunny and a high of 80F. But it also showed double-digit winds all day. That was accurate.

On the Saturday of the ride, I drove to Controle #1 with a half-hour to spare (start time was 7am) and was one of the last drivers to find parking in the lot, not out on the roadside. I found and chatted with Rick, signed in (was told the age line was optional, but I proudly wrote in 68), then was issued my brevet card and cue sheets. From a nearby table I took a free snack for the road and stuffed it in a back pocket. (At home, I'd had a chilled can of double-shot espresso, half a buttered roll and a small bottle of Ensure.) Frank arrived and by the time we were ready, it was after 7:15. We headed out east, the last riders to leave (the other 39 riders left at the crack of 7am after Rick's brief address).
One good thing about being the last ones to leave the start - no one passed us!

We headed west toward Batsto then south past Hammonton, riding at an easy pace so as to conserve energy for the long day ahead, but I soon started feeling a nagging soreness in one thigh left over from earlier in the week, so I took an ibuprofen tablet, which made the soreness go away for a while. All told, I took 3 or 4 ibuprofen tablets during the day. And because in warm weather I sweat and cramp more than most (and don't have blood-pressure issues), I took some Salt Stick caps during the day, maybe 10 total (the max recommended).

We joined up with four other riders, and for a while the six of us moved down State Route 54 together, sheltering each other from the wind as best we could on that seven-mile pull.

Dawn was the volunteer who signed our brevet cards at Controle #2 (mile 31.3) on Weymouth Road in Vineland. We arrived maybe 40 minutes before our time window expired. We used the facilities inside, then chatted a bit with Dawn and several other riders who came thru. I ate some trail mix (thanks, Frank), replenished my water, removed my windbreaker and tied it by its sleeves around my waist, as by then it was warm. Leaving there after at least 15 minutes off the bike, we traveled farther west thru some of the nicest farm areas of the entire ride (Grier's Lane, Tices Lane et al), with very little car traffic. Great riding country.

I made a dangerous move, tho. While three of us were waiting to cross a busy road, I said 'I'm going' and started across when it would have been more prudent to wait. As soon as I did it, cranking hard, I realized my chain could have broken or some such, and I would have been dead meat for the oncoming car. I not only endangered myself foolishly, but perhaps the other guys too. I should have been more patient. Immediately I expressed my regrets to Frank about the move, and how he was wise to wait. He replied, 'I promised my wife I'd ride safely.'

Walt was the volunteer at Controle #3 (mile 57.6), Pat's Pizza on SR 49, downtown Salem's main drag. Again we arrived about 40 minutes before our time window expired. We enjoyed talking with Walt while Frank and I split 3 large square slices of good, gooey pizza. I had a Sprite, glad to be able to drink sugary soda without feeling guilty. I needed the fuel, and it was refreshing. After about a half-hour, we headed back out, this time south toward Hancock's Bridge. Still the wind was strong and in our faces.

At mile 66.8, Controle #4 was an 'information controle.' Unmanned, the site was a dilapidated fresh-produce stand, and we had to write on our brevet cards the color of the stand's shelves, as proof that we'd ridden by that location.

Some of the roads on this and the prior leg (Upper Neck, Jericho, Olivet) were familiar to me from our bi-weekly evening club rides and from club century rides open to the public.

Thanks to finally getting a tailwind, we had a seven-mile push on Porchtown Road to get to Controle #5 (mile 90.2), the Wawa in Franklinville, where club member Liz L, Rick's wife, was the volunteer in charge. We arrived about an hour before our time window expired. I ate the free snack I'd pocketed at the start, bought a can of ginger ale, discussed soda versus sports drinks with Frank, and chatted a bit with Liz as I replenished my water. Leaving there after less than a half-hour, I had the distinct feeling that yeah, we were going to be able to finish okay, barring the unforeseen. And man, was it nice not to have a headwind this far into a long ride!

We settled into a mindset of just turning over the pedals and ticking off the miles. Frank said something to the effect that we had a lot less distance ahead of us than we had behind us, which helped. When I saw 100.00 miles on the odo, I yelled to Frank, "We're at double-nifty!" At times I would suddenly realize Frank was far ahead of me. Other times I'd see him in my helmet mirror, way back. We kind of leap-frogged our way along.

At times late in the ride, my minimal oem saddle made me squirm. I just tried not to focus on it. Denial is not all bad. If I were to do it again, I would stay with my endurance bike, but I might change out the saddle.

Seeing cool sights such as the train graveyard at Winslow Junction, singing our high school alma mater, making lame puns, having conversations about music or our post-truth society, etc, were all helpful. Near the end, Frank told me about Measured Mile road signs coming up, so I focused on checking my bike's computer for accuracy against the signs. It made it more enjoyable to do the distance with a good buddy to help pass the time during the longest stretches.

And full props: Rick's cue sheets (3 pages) were spot-on, including letting riders know where NOT to turn, etc. Obviously he and the other pre-riders (Dawn, Walt, Mark R, Gil L and Bill R) did a nice job, checking things over and sorting out where riders might go wrong.
Also, I like loops versus out-and-backs, and the only stretches of road we traveled both ways on this ride were 1.1 mile of Upper Neck Road in the middle and 7.4 miles of CR 542 at the end. Well done, Rick.

Frank and I finished in 11 hours and 39 minutes, officially (maximum allowable is 13.5 hours). We'd done it. After getting signed in, we ate in the Tavern (included in our $28 registration fee) and talked with Rick and Walt for a while. I'm satisfied. All in all, it was a most memorable day on the bike.

Ride 4.09.18

Monday, high 30s – mid 40s and breezy

I drove with Frank down to Gibbstown and parked at the supermarket just off the interstate. We did a bit of shopping, then saddled up and pedaled over the interstate hump and south on Swedesboro Avenue. Frank wanted the day to be at least ‘nifty’ which means we needed to cycle at least ‘fifty’ miles. I had a cue sheet for 46 miles, but I knew the roads well enough that we could go off-script to get our desired miles. 

We wended our way down toward Swedesboro using Wolfert, Warrington Mill, Asbury Station, Hendrickson Mill and Garwin Roads, crossing US 322, turning onto then immediately off Kings Highway before reaching town. The left onto Back Creek Road and a right onto Russell Mill Road put us in great farmland riding country. Then we went east onto Harrisonville Road which fed into Oldman’s Creek Road (and a couple real rollers), across State Route 45, past the South Harrison Township municipal building and on into little Harrisonville. From there we took Eldridges Hill Road to Whig Lane Road to East Lake Road, crossed US Route 40, riding east of Woodstown proper, heading south. Via Alloway-Woodstown, Fenwick, Mannington-Yorkville, Cemetery and Cheney Roads we worked our way out to SR 45 again, by the Salem County vocational school.

After heading south on SR 45 a couple miles we came upon a dirt road, and needing a place to pee, we pulled in there, then saw the sign denoting Mannington Wildlife Management Area. In all the times I’ve ridden down that road past that site (including at least 6 club Time Trials), I’d never seen that sign or known there was a WMA there. After we did our business, Frank suggested we ride further down the dirt road to see what was there. Very shortly we came upon a wooden viewing platform looking out over what I later learned is Mannington Marsh, which feeds into the Salem River. The marsh was more like a river itself at that point, and was occupied by many ducks, egrets, swans and a great blue heron. On the far side, a road bridge was visible, on Kings Highway.

We continued down SR 45 and made a right turn, went around the horn (on the quaintly-named Bypass Road) and immediately turned onto Kings Highway headed north, passing over the Swamp bridge, from which a couple guys were fishing, and rode on up, eventually to Sharptown. There we went left on Main Street and after a block took a right onto a side street that came out to US 40, a block up west of the traffic light with the Sunoco convenience store. We crossed the highway there (just a little east of the Cowtown Rodeo, ‘the oldest weekly running rodeo in the USA') and made our way up to Auburn, passing Frank’s favorite solar-powered LED blinking Stop signs, and then veered west toward sleepy Pedricktown. We dawdled there a bit, seeing if we could find the Pedrick House which we’d heard of, but no luck, even after asking a USPS letter carrier who was kind enough to Google it for us. 

We then proceeded west to US 130 (a country road at that point) and started north. Knowing that the drawbridge over Raccoon Creek by Bridgeport is under construction and still may not be a healthy place for cyclists to ride, we took a right onto Center Square Road and headed toward Pureland industrial park. The riding there was dicey on this weekday, and it was clear that the road was laid out for big trucks and cars, but not for bicycles. We squeezed thru over a mile, gritting our teeth and saying, 'Never again.' We crossed over I-295 at Exit 10 and continued toward Swedesboro, going thru the new-ish commercial area with all the conveniences (Acme, franchised fast-food joints, banks, medical offices, drug stores, the Logan Township library, etc) that feed off all the new homes in the area, the Jersey southern edge of the Philly-area urban sprawl. Eventually we came to the new little Kings Highway traffic circle at the south end of Swedesboro near the diner where I’ve eaten frequently with the Breakfast Bike Boys (Gene, Sam, Rich, Mike, Larry, Matt). 

From there it was the usual careful ride down the main drag thru town, watching our mirrors and looking out so we didn’t get doored by the cars sitting along the curb, until, after crossing Raccoon Creek on the north end of town, we made a dicey left off Kings Highway onto Paulsboro Road. We sailed along on that road, went thru the small village of Repaupo and got back to Gibbstown safely after a total of 60 miles, both agreeing that the last stretch was a most enjoyable run in to the finish. Again we availed ourselves of what the supermarket has to offer, then we loaded up the bikes and headed for home. A nice little chilly bike adventure, it was. The balaclavas never came off.