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.