The youth of old age

On less than a day's notice Rick, Christine, and Janice responded to my email by agreeing to join me on a 100K ride that visits locations used as stops on the underground railroad in south Jersey. 

Rick later sent an email that reminded us all that, 10 years ago, to the day, the four of us rode together on a 200K south Jersey route and he sent us a link to this blogpost about that ride. He called it our 10th anniversary. 

Riding with RUSA 25

February 28, 2015

Just minutes into the 200K, I was already second guessing my decision to ride studded tires.The vibration of studs on asphalt buzzed through the handlebars into my hands and arms even as the sound of those little metal spikes grinding into the road droned into my ears and brain. Riding studded tires felt like riding on a gravel road - noisy with extra resistance.

The temperature warranted it - maybe. We were starting the ride at around 10 degrees Fahrenheit after a recent snowfall, so ice was a valid concern. But the roads were mostly clear and the four other riders were all riding normal tires. At 130 miles, with a few bonus miles in a detour, this was already a long 200K. Riding studded tires on winter legs in subfreezing temperatures promised to make it feel even longer. But home was an hour's drive behind me so there was no turning back now - not on the last day of February - not if I wanted to complete an R-12 ride for the month. So, what's done is done, this is my here and now, I would just have to deal with it.

December 2014. R1 Redux: Leave the lights on.

Can a ride report be a music video?

The back story: 

My streak of 200k or longer rides died in November. That was the first month to go by without my riding one since I rode my very first 200k in April 2010. Fifty-five months of consistency ended quietly, without drama, succumbing to inertia and a lingering lack of motivation. 

December was passing too, easily slipping past in the flow of year end parties, arrangements, wrapping up at work. 100K rides kept me in the loop, but the 200K is the benchmark of this sport and it was getting farther away while the distance was growing more daunting.

New Jersey holiday ride: On the last day of fall

Come 
ride with me
on the last day of fall 
under a cold grey sky 
when the days have withered
in the presence of growing  night.

Summer rain - NJ Transit 200k

Summer rain can fall
light and steady 

Sometimes a brevet is just a bike ride from then to now to next. Stillwater Retour 200K

Two weeks after riding around Lake Ontario, the recovery is well underway. Now, in between family and work, comes the thinking about, and preparing for, the next big thing, the farthest ride yet that is now just two months away. One thing about randonneuring, there is always another big thing.

Since the last big thing, after the three days it takes for my foggy mind to recover, during the two weeks it takes for the body to recover, I've been cross training a little. But, to prepare for a big brevet, you have to ride the bike. Luckily, sometimes, a brevet is just a bike ride.

On the day that the sun stands still: East Creek 600K

On the Solstice, the sun pauses in the sky before it transitions to a new season. As long as humanity has looked to the heavens and searched for meaning, we have taken this event as a cause for celebration. Less so now, but there was a time when people danced for rain. A time when we knew the meanings of the shape of clouds and the names of the full moon. We once built structures of stone that aligned with the stars on midsummer's day, the longest day, the Solstice. 

Call it what you will, but a celebration so specific in time yet so global in performance must come from a quality intrinsic to our very nature, one inherent to our humanity. If we, as Carl Sagan said, are made of star stuff, then on the Solstice day we celebrate our origin; our collective journey through the universe. 

 

Englewood 400K - The longest of the short rides.

We couldn't have timed it better. After riding 150 miles of seemingly endless rolling hills and short steep climbs on the route that trended up, we reached Ellenville, NY. Then we started the 4.5 mile climb up the Shawangunk (pronounced SHON-gun) Mountains just as the sun began to set. Our road, Route 52 East, climbs 1400 feet. On our left, the setting sun sets the bare rock aglow in warm light. On our right, a lush green valley of manicured farms and occasional pristine points of church spires unveils itself as we ascend; the buildings shrinking into the expanding scenery. The sun gently illuminates the valley, filling it with a final light, closing the curtain on a beautiful day. Miles away, west of the valley, another mountain range runs parallel to our route. The distant range receives the setting sun as a sleepy child receives a parent's gentle kiss: softly, with stillness, believing in the promise of tomorrow. 

I seem to climb in time with the setting sun, rising as it descends, which pauses it in the sky, slowing time, extending the spectacle. The quiet beauty of the vista magnifies the labored effort it takes for me to make this climb. A young couple, barely teenagers, watches the sunset from an overlook. As I approach, they turn to me and with the eager shyness of two young people on their first date, they smile, clap a little, and congratulate me on my effort. I smile, imagining that they see someone doing an evening fitness ride and think that they have no idea how I got here and how far I have yet to go. I call out "Thank you! But I'm not done yet!" The boy replied, "You're almost there!" I smiled, thinking - yup, just 100 more miles to go.

PA 300k: Grace and Humility

A while back, when I began Randonneuring,  I was talking to the husband of a friend of my wife - which kind of makes us friends by some marital variation on the transitive property of equality but not the kind of friends who do stuff together when the wives aren't involved which is kinda odd when you think about it in detail - but, I digress. Anyway, I tell the guy - I will call him "the guy" to protect his identity and because basically his real name is really not what this is about  - I said to the guy - 

"Yeah, we do these long bike rides under a time limit. The shortest distance is 200k  - about 125 miles- and the longest is about 1200K -about 750 miles.

Now the guy was no couch potato. He had ridden a bike across the country and had lots of  real outdoor adventure trips under his proverbial belt. When I tell the guy about the sport, he replied with something to the effect of  

"Wow, you must have some real demons chasing you." 

That kind of took me aback. Because even then, I knew that ultra distance bike riding is one sport where the one thing you cannot escape is yourself.

That conversation came to me again during the arduous 300K that the PA Randonneurs put on yesterday. In the course of that ride, I came face to face with some unexpected realities. But instead of demons, I would call them angels. And each of them had a name.

2014 Fleche: A video

The annual 24 hour ride called the "Fleche" took place this past weekend.

2014 April 200K - a change in perspective.

Given a choice of climbing vicious hills or riding into hours of unrelenting headwinds, some Randonneurs will choose hills and some will choose headwinds.

But some will choose both.

Pennsylvania Blue Mountain 200K - Riding on winter legs.

The dawn of the first Saturday of Spring came crisp and cold with a hint of possible rain. The edges of the waning moon glowed softly through a thin cover of clouds. 

Thirty-four riders gathered in and out of the Milford New Jersey bakery, milling, queuing and circulating before the start of the brevet. The big turn out after an unusually cold and snowy winter brought some faces I hadn't seen since summer, others of friends with whom I rode over the winter and a few not yet met. A rush of excitement, a mix of eagerness and uncertainty, familiar and unknown, animated the morning. This felt like a beginning,  a new season, the start of things to come.

A new roof on an old barn - the Millstone River Ramble 100K

Winter pauses and gives Spring a test day - blustery with the promise of warmth. I ride with two friends along the banks of a canal on smooth quiet blacktop. 

Winter Solstice Ride

 

I don't know if any words can capture the full magic of our Winter Solstice Ride but Patrick (Dancer) said it well:

bade farewell to autumn and welcomed the first day of winter with a small handful of hardy randos on the inaugural Winter Solstice 200k, the all-night ride complete with bikes festooned with string lights, tinsel, reindeer antlers and Santa hats, the dark night punctuated with Christmas carols, bad jokes and oohs and aahs at the festively decorated houses along the route. Good friends, good times: a wonderful way as any to spend the longest night of the year.

Central Jersey 200K: Come dance with me.

A big turn out. A fast course.  Challenging winds. A mighty fine group to ride with. Sounds like the making of a Rando video:

Independence Hall 200K - crossing paths

This weekend would be the final training weekend before my big ride for the year - the Last Chance 1200K. To prepare for the multi-day ride, I've been training on a three days on, one day off schedule. Friday was an hour run on the treadmill with 45 minutes of mile repeats after my 12 mile bike commute. Saturday was strength training - primarily 3x12 heavy reps  on the v-squat machine and leg curls to failure. Sunday would be the long bike ride. I figure that this schedule would simulate riding on the tired legs of the second or third day of a Grand Randonnee.

Earlier in the week, I sent an email to the usual suspects to see if anyone wanted to ride over the labor day weekend. Janice, with whom I rode on this year's fleche, was up for it. The others opted for a shorter ride or no ride, so Janice and me it would be.

She agreed to ride the Independence Hall 200k. It's a relatively new Permanent that starts at Independence Hall in Philadelphia. I chose it because I can ride to the start and, if I also rode home, that would add about 25 miles to the 128 mile official ride giving me a solid 150+ mile day. To keep the effort honest, I chose to ride the fixie. No coasting. It was a choice I would later second guess.

Oyster Creek 200K - The calm before the storm.

The Oyster Creek 200K undulates like easy waves on a breeze brushed pond. No significant climbs means no screaming descents but the varying terrain intersperses spin worthy flats with opportunities to rise from the saddle and power over gentle rises. It is a good course to enjoy a fast ride or a merciful one.

Blue Mountain 300K - River lessons.

April 21, 2013

The Delaware River, inky black under the pre-dawn sky, flows on our left. It speaks in a thousand whispered voices. It sings forgotten songs that play at the shores of remembrance. It echoes the vibrato of unstoppable, ancient power. It reverberates with the timeless sound of patience and persistence.

Fleche 2013 - A just 'cause.

At 4:45 on Sunday morning, the temperature in Frenchtown, NJ, a small town on the banks of the Delaware River, hovers around 30 degrees. I lay on a sidewalk bench outside of a closed restaurant and a closed cafe, closing my eyes for ten minutes, willing myself to rest for just a little bit before the cold seeps into my body. My three teammates, Cap'n Chris, Janice and Chris are nearby, sharing fig bars and snack food while seated at a metal table. Our next official stop is 12 miles away and won't open until 6:00 am. We've been riding together, basically non-stop, since 9:00 am on Saturday.

Another team, Bill, Guy and Paul, arrive. They are riding fixed gear bikes. They cat napped in the bathroom of a State Park just a few miles away. It was 70 degrees in the bathroom. They are also headed for the restaurant that is 12 miles away and opens at 6:00 a.m.They've been riding together, basically non-stop, since 9:00 am on Saturday. After a brief conversation, they go their way and we go ours. We will meet again. That is the way of the fleche.

Hard Nox

We rode the Nockamixon 200k Permanent. After starting in New Jersey, it crosses the Delaware River into Pennsylvania. The land is a series of ridges and valleys that run parallel to the river in row after row of geographic wrinkles. The route crosses the undulations. The climbs are short but steep. They come in groups, like waves on a rough sea, spaced by brief stretches of flats and false flats. We climb and climb again.