I rode a sanctioned solo 100k ('Populaire') randonneur route this week, the Stagecoach 100k, which begins in Mercer County NJ. The roads and towns were all new to me. Starting in West Windsor, it passed thru Cranbury on the way to the easternmost point, the small town of Farmingdale NJ, then back past Manasquan Reservoir and Turkey Swamp and thru the Assunpink Creek watershed. All these places were just names to me before. Some double-digit headwinds on the return part of the loop (of course) made for a challenge, but it was a good day on the bike riding a nice route (once I got past the morning rush-hour traffic on one particularly busy road, 527A).
Again my recently-purchased Garmin Edge 820 got confused, and I had to accept Turn Off Navigation in order to get rid of the Make U-Turn message. Unlike on the recent 200k, the device did not recognize I was on the correct route so it did not continue to give me turn-by-turn instructions, alas. But it did continue to track my ride and created a nice file to download. And it helped when I came to an unmarked intersection where the cue sheet probably wanted me to turn (based on my total mileage per the separate Cateye computer still mounted to my handlebar). The Garmin confirmed the name of the road to be the road I wanted.
While riding, I was struck by the fact that the several cyclists I saw and acknowledged seemed very cool toward me, as if they didn't see me, or at least, didn't want to acknowledge me and thereby express solidarity. I then wondered if my bright yellow garb (vest and ankle cuffs) and blinky lights front and rear are a turn-off to some other riders, possibly making me a 'Fred.'
It is important to me to be very visible in order to ride safely, especially when riding solo on roads shared with cars, but maybe I am overdoing it in the eyes of others? Should that matter to me?
I do notice more riders seem to be running blinkies these days, especially rear lights. I think that is a great leap forward for cycling safety.
Thursday, April 18, 2019
Batsto 200k randonneur brevet 4.06.2019
4.18.19
As planned, I rode the Batsto 200k brevet on Saturday 4/06/19.
Drove there via the AC Expressway with the wipers on intermittent setting, and arrived at Lower Bank by the Mullica in the misty gloaming around 0645. We were sent off from the Lower Bank Tavern, 1.7 miles away (due to parking concerns), at 0730.
The weather got nice and I had a decent day on the bike with no cramping (dosing regularly with Saltstick capsules and Advil), riding alone mostly, and besting last year's time by well over an hour. A lot of that was the lack of a serious headwind this year, for which I was grateful. My total time put me 2/3 down the list of 65 finishers, and I was satisfied with that, considering that I thought I might end up being last rider in. There were 4 DNFs.
My newly-acquired Garmin Edge 820 had the route downloaded to it, but somehow got confused, and I had to choose Stop Navigation in order to get rid of the Make U-Turn message. However, a few miles later somehow it recognized I was still on course, and picked right up again, tracking the whole ride and giving me a nice file to download. I am still trying to figure out the device.
Oh, and I fell once. Came up to a blind intersection where I had the Stop sign and the cross traffic did not, and thought I'd be able to roll thru the country crossroads. Got deep into the corner and saw a fast-coming pickup, so I turned back and hit the brakes, but could not un-clip the left pedal in time and fell on that side. Embarrassed but unhurt, I got up quickly as if it never happened, of course.
As planned, I rode the Batsto 200k brevet on Saturday 4/06/19.
Drove there via the AC Expressway with the wipers on intermittent setting, and arrived at Lower Bank by the Mullica in the misty gloaming around 0645. We were sent off from the Lower Bank Tavern, 1.7 miles away (due to parking concerns), at 0730.
The weather got nice and I had a decent day on the bike with no cramping (dosing regularly with Saltstick capsules and Advil), riding alone mostly, and besting last year's time by well over an hour. A lot of that was the lack of a serious headwind this year, for which I was grateful. My total time put me 2/3 down the list of 65 finishers, and I was satisfied with that, considering that I thought I might end up being last rider in. There were 4 DNFs.
My newly-acquired Garmin Edge 820 had the route downloaded to it, but somehow got confused, and I had to choose Stop Navigation in order to get rid of the Make U-Turn message. However, a few miles later somehow it recognized I was still on course, and picked right up again, tracking the whole ride and giving me a nice file to download. I am still trying to figure out the device.
Oh, and I fell once. Came up to a blind intersection where I had the Stop sign and the cross traffic did not, and thought I'd be able to roll thru the country crossroads. Got deep into the corner and saw a fast-coming pickup, so I turned back and hit the brakes, but could not un-clip the left pedal in time and fell on that side. Embarrassed but unhurt, I got up quickly as if it never happened, of course.
Tuesday, April 2, 2019
Testing, testing
4.02.19
Since my first 200k brevet a year ago, I've joined Randonneurs USA and ridden four 200k Permanents, plus eight Populaires (100k). I felt I had become a solid randonneur for such distances. However, I came to believe it would be best if took a pass on riding Rick's 2019 Batsto 200k brevet on the first Saturday in April, despite having signed up and paid up well in advance.
Ever since February when I did a 42-mile ride where I pushed myself to keep up with a couple stronger riders while I was wearing SPD clip-ins for only the second time, I have been experiencing more cramping than ever. (Cramping has always been a bugaboo for me.) After riding a 100k Populaire in mid-March (the fifth of a planned P-12), I felt that a 200k was not something I would be able to tackle again anytime soon. As I put it to a co-rider at the diner afterward, there was no way I could turn around and do a second 100k that day.
But I felt badly that I was going to miss Rick's brevet this year, which is something of a party he throws annually. I like Rick as both a co-rider and off-the-bike buddy. And reading the recently-arrived RUSA newsletter American Randonneur always motivates me to ride. So I reasoned that doing a 200k is as much about mindset at the outset as anything else. If I expected to do 200k, rode my own pace and dosed myself with salt capsules and ibuprofen at proper intervals, it could go well enough.
Yesterday I tested myself with a 52-miler of my own design, fighting headwinds across the open fields of Salem County. I figured, with 4+ days to rest up (e.g.no jogging) and the right attitude, I am in good-enough shape to tackle the upcoming 200k. I think Rick was glad to learn this. And I now find that I am looking forward to the ride; with around 60 riders signed up, it should feel like a real event.
Friday, April 20, 2018
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.
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.
Tuesday, September 15, 2015
Wheelfine Imports
Visit to Wheelfine Imports Sat 9/12/15
After reading on the 'net a while back that about an hour away there is a very cool independent, owner-operated bike shop, dealing mostly in Italian bicycles (the sexiest kind), I rounded up a couple of bike-savvier buddies and headed north along the Delaware River to Lambertville, NJ.
We made a right off SR 29 onto Brunswick Pike opposite downtown Lambertville, climbed a hill, and about 1-2 miles up the road we found Wheelfine Imports sitting by the highway in a rural residential area. Right away we were taken with several bikes leaning up against the outside of the building. After ogling them (two new Electras 29ers, an older Bianchi and others), we went in the wide-open door of the low one-story building and immediately had to squeeze our way past the many bikes that filled the small front counter room.
I called hello, and shortly thereafter the friendly proprietor appeared, Michael Johnson. He made some quips right off the bat, putting us at ease. He said he started out working nearby for legendary bike-builder Jim Redcay. His good reputation is well deserved. He let us poke around the various rooms for about an hour while he regaled us with all kinds of bike info. There was a lot of back and forth between Padge, Harry, and Michael. I just tried to absorb everything while not saying anything too stupid. I did come up with the correct answer as to what type of non-carbon-fiber frame material led to the development of carbon-fiber forks.
The shop had bikes from Colnago, DeRosa, Cinelli, Ciocc, Merckx, Pinarello and others jammed in everywhere over 2 rooms. ("No Treks here.") Awe-inspiring. Michael says he sells more Bianchi pista bikes than any other shop in New Jersey.
Also, there were bike items on shelves filling up the rest of the space, including tools, lube, racks for mounting on bikes, racks for mounting on cars to carry bikes, gloves, jerseys (including a Wheelfine), helmets etc. and even pastel-colored straw baskets for the girly bikes. In short, it seemed he had everything.
On his workstand, Michael had a Carrera carbon-fiber bike which was lighter than any I've ever lifted. He took off the radial-spoked front wheel and tire and handed it to me; it was laughably light. He said he had built the wheel, lacing it so the flanged ends of the spokes were on the inside of the hub flange, which he says is better but takes a minute longer.
It was like being in church and going to communion.
Before leaving, I bought a chain (my first Wipperman!) and Padge bought a mountain-biking backpack made by Dueter (a German brand he had heard good things about while on his latest trip to his native England).
On the ride home, we chattered like chimps, our heads spinning from the visit to a shrine.
After reading on the 'net a while back that about an hour away there is a very cool independent, owner-operated bike shop, dealing mostly in Italian bicycles (the sexiest kind), I rounded up a couple of bike-savvier buddies and headed north along the Delaware River to Lambertville, NJ.
We made a right off SR 29 onto Brunswick Pike opposite downtown Lambertville, climbed a hill, and about 1-2 miles up the road we found Wheelfine Imports sitting by the highway in a rural residential area. Right away we were taken with several bikes leaning up against the outside of the building. After ogling them (two new Electras 29ers, an older Bianchi and others), we went in the wide-open door of the low one-story building and immediately had to squeeze our way past the many bikes that filled the small front counter room.
I called hello, and shortly thereafter the friendly proprietor appeared, Michael Johnson. He made some quips right off the bat, putting us at ease. He said he started out working nearby for legendary bike-builder Jim Redcay. His good reputation is well deserved. He let us poke around the various rooms for about an hour while he regaled us with all kinds of bike info. There was a lot of back and forth between Padge, Harry, and Michael. I just tried to absorb everything while not saying anything too stupid. I did come up with the correct answer as to what type of non-carbon-fiber frame material led to the development of carbon-fiber forks.
The shop had bikes from Colnago, DeRosa, Cinelli, Ciocc, Merckx, Pinarello and others jammed in everywhere over 2 rooms. ("No Treks here.") Awe-inspiring. Michael says he sells more Bianchi pista bikes than any other shop in New Jersey.
Also, there were bike items on shelves filling up the rest of the space, including tools, lube, racks for mounting on bikes, racks for mounting on cars to carry bikes, gloves, jerseys (including a Wheelfine), helmets etc. and even pastel-colored straw baskets for the girly bikes. In short, it seemed he had everything.
On his workstand, Michael had a Carrera carbon-fiber bike which was lighter than any I've ever lifted. He took off the radial-spoked front wheel and tire and handed it to me; it was laughably light. He said he had built the wheel, lacing it so the flanged ends of the spokes were on the inside of the hub flange, which he says is better but takes a minute longer.
It was like being in church and going to communion.
Before leaving, I bought a chain (my first Wipperman!) and Padge bought a mountain-biking backpack made by Dueter (a German brand he had heard good things about while on his latest trip to his native England).
On the ride home, we chattered like chimps, our heads spinning from the visit to a shrine.
Monday, September 7, 2015
Brandywine Tour 2015, DVBC
Brandywine Tour, Delaware Valley Bicycle Club, Sunday 9/06/15
After doing this ride for 3 years, then skipping it for 3 years, I got some buddies interested in doing it this year. Mike, Akram and I met at 6:30 at Padge's place, 'the farm,' and drove about 45 minutes to the starting point, Pocopson elementary school near (Brandywine) Creek Road, up from US Route 1 in Chadds Ford, PA (Wyeth country).
From the school, which sits high on a hill, we had a nice view of nearby wooded hills on a beautiful and still summer morning. We all signed in, chose the 52-miler (other options were 28, 65 and 100 miles), and started pedaling together just before 8 a.m.
Back down Creek Road we went, then crossed US 1 and rode thru what has to be some of the nicest hilly country in the Delaware Valley. We South Jersey flatlanders were getting our desired hill-riding low-gear workout in a lovely setting. "Awesome," Padge said. Agreed.
At one point, I came upon Padge pulled over to the side of the road with a woman, both off their bikes. Turns out he noticed she was fighting her way uphill on under-inflated tires, so chivalrous Padge offered to help, and used his mini-pump to get her rear tire up to a decent inflation. Akram took over and did the same for her front tire. She apparently did not know much about inflation, and mentioned relying on her Lancaster-area bike shop to tell her what to buy and what to do. My guess is she had not inflated her tires since the shop had sold her a floor pump. Then off we pedaled together, now numbering 5.
There was more nice riding up and down the hills, lots of shady roads, farmland and horse country.
At the second of 2 rest stops (at a canoe rental area on the Brandywine Creek), Akram the Affable saw someone he knew and greeted him; then he made a new acquaintance, the club volunteer working the bike service stand. Before they were thru, they had exchanged contact info, because Bob the volunteer had some obscure bike part that Akram was trying to locate for one of his other bikes.
I noticed a guy in an Alp d'Huez cap was looking at me funny, and when I started walking away he asked if he could take my picture, because he wanted to send it to his sister; I look just like their dad! When I smiled for the camera (phone), he said 'Don't smile.' Apparently his dad was a dour man. Funny.
We five headed off and rode quite a while, but we reached a point where we kinda seemed to be going back over the same ground. Finally I saw tents in a campsite and was sure we had passed that way before. As we were chattering back and forth about that, the same canoe-rental rest stop came into view. *urk*
We talked with a rest-stop volunteer who said we were not the first to accidentally come back thru a second time. She tried to figure out where we went wrong, using a map on her smart phone along with my cue sheet. However, between the sun glare on her screen and my lack of glasses, I could not make out what she was trying to show me. I nodded frequently and thanked her, thinking I would just pay closer attention to the cue sheet the second time around.
We started off again, and on our next pass, I saw where we went wrong; earlier when we had been stopped for regrouping, our fifth rider had seen a road marking indicating a turn and thought we should go that way. But the marking turned out to be for riders on a different route coming from another direction. And the road signs were angled so you couldn't really tell what was what without studying it. Still, my bad for not figuring out which road we were on and verifying the turn with the cue sheet. Seeing we were 11 miles further on the odometer, I was able to make the adjustment at each milepost noted on the cue sheet, and we were fine the rest of the way.
The last piece of the ride, however, was up the driveway to the school at the top of the hill. The driveway is so friggin' steep, it has a switchback built into it! So it was put 'er in low gear and avoid the shame of walking the last 100 yards. What a finish. We celebrated with complimentary pizza slices. The band was playing Maggie's Farm.
Instead of 52 miles, because of the wrong turn we did nearly 64 miles, and were none the worse for wear. In fact, we called it our metric century, like we planned it that way.
A good time was had by all. It was the best ride of the year so far for me, with the hills, the lovely scenery and the good company on a perfect day.
After doing this ride for 3 years, then skipping it for 3 years, I got some buddies interested in doing it this year. Mike, Akram and I met at 6:30 at Padge's place, 'the farm,' and drove about 45 minutes to the starting point, Pocopson elementary school near (Brandywine) Creek Road, up from US Route 1 in Chadds Ford, PA (Wyeth country).
From the school, which sits high on a hill, we had a nice view of nearby wooded hills on a beautiful and still summer morning. We all signed in, chose the 52-miler (other options were 28, 65 and 100 miles), and started pedaling together just before 8 a.m.
Back down Creek Road we went, then crossed US 1 and rode thru what has to be some of the nicest hilly country in the Delaware Valley. We South Jersey flatlanders were getting our desired hill-riding low-gear workout in a lovely setting. "Awesome," Padge said. Agreed.
At one point, I came upon Padge pulled over to the side of the road with a woman, both off their bikes. Turns out he noticed she was fighting her way uphill on under-inflated tires, so chivalrous Padge offered to help, and used his mini-pump to get her rear tire up to a decent inflation. Akram took over and did the same for her front tire. She apparently did not know much about inflation, and mentioned relying on her Lancaster-area bike shop to tell her what to buy and what to do. My guess is she had not inflated her tires since the shop had sold her a floor pump. Then off we pedaled together, now numbering 5.
There was more nice riding up and down the hills, lots of shady roads, farmland and horse country.
At the second of 2 rest stops (at a canoe rental area on the Brandywine Creek), Akram the Affable saw someone he knew and greeted him; then he made a new acquaintance, the club volunteer working the bike service stand. Before they were thru, they had exchanged contact info, because Bob the volunteer had some obscure bike part that Akram was trying to locate for one of his other bikes.
I noticed a guy in an Alp d'Huez cap was looking at me funny, and when I started walking away he asked if he could take my picture, because he wanted to send it to his sister; I look just like their dad! When I smiled for the camera (phone), he said 'Don't smile.' Apparently his dad was a dour man. Funny.
We five headed off and rode quite a while, but we reached a point where we kinda seemed to be going back over the same ground. Finally I saw tents in a campsite and was sure we had passed that way before. As we were chattering back and forth about that, the same canoe-rental rest stop came into view. *urk*
We talked with a rest-stop volunteer who said we were not the first to accidentally come back thru a second time. She tried to figure out where we went wrong, using a map on her smart phone along with my cue sheet. However, between the sun glare on her screen and my lack of glasses, I could not make out what she was trying to show me. I nodded frequently and thanked her, thinking I would just pay closer attention to the cue sheet the second time around.
We started off again, and on our next pass, I saw where we went wrong; earlier when we had been stopped for regrouping, our fifth rider had seen a road marking indicating a turn and thought we should go that way. But the marking turned out to be for riders on a different route coming from another direction. And the road signs were angled so you couldn't really tell what was what without studying it. Still, my bad for not figuring out which road we were on and verifying the turn with the cue sheet. Seeing we were 11 miles further on the odometer, I was able to make the adjustment at each milepost noted on the cue sheet, and we were fine the rest of the way.
The last piece of the ride, however, was up the driveway to the school at the top of the hill. The driveway is so friggin' steep, it has a switchback built into it! So it was put 'er in low gear and avoid the shame of walking the last 100 yards. What a finish. We celebrated with complimentary pizza slices. The band was playing Maggie's Farm.
Instead of 52 miles, because of the wrong turn we did nearly 64 miles, and were none the worse for wear. In fact, we called it our metric century, like we planned it that way.
A good time was had by all. It was the best ride of the year so far for me, with the hills, the lovely scenery and the good company on a perfect day.
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