Can it really be six weeks since I've been on a ride out of Kim's?
Well, that had to be remedied, so even though one of my favorite Princeton Freewheeler leaders was leading a ride today, I resolved to go out with the Kim's group. I did my usual ride-to-the-ride, stopping at the usual Wawa, where I ran into Wendell. whom I rode with on my ill-fated ride with the Major Taylors. He was out on a solo, and I told him about the open nature of the Kim's ride, and invited him to come.
I was early, of course, and potted around New Brunswick for a bit, before rolling up to Kim's. Neil was there:
We had a few words about feeling old and outclassed in this younger, faster crowd, but Neil acquitted himself admirably.
A few others showed up:
And then John came in; he told us that the others would be waiting for us on the route.
So, with a few others in tow (I didn't get names), off we went to Johnson Park... where we found folks waiting, not just for us, but for a couple of others; one had had a shoes/pedals crisis and had had to change out pedals. I heard they were riding in.
It turned out they were riding in, but in a car; they got the bikes off the rack, and off we went.
There's construction along River Road, and some of the traffic was NOT happy to see us, but you wouldn't know it from these pictures.
We got out of there as soon as we could and went through Bound Brook and picked up Elizabeth Ave, where I saw Señor Francisco and Señor Miguel (hey, they call me Mr Jim; I think the turnaround is only fair!). We chatted about my being missing for a while, and other topics.
After the turn into Colonial Park, one of the fast boys fell back; he thought he'd had a proble, but he hadn't... but I did when I went to catch up with the rest of the gang. I didn't get my breath back until we stopped at Six Mile/Blackwells Mills.
Off we went to Coppermine.
Did I mention it was humid? I see I didn't. It was humid; John, above, and I were remarking on how wet it was, and hard to breathe. Partway up Coppermine, I had to pull off and wring out my headband; it was so saturated that sweat was running down my face and obscuring my vision (and dripping into my glasses). John and I brought up the rear of the going-up-Coppermine contingent. Oh, the shame. Oh, the ignominy.
Screw it. I'm 61; I'm old enough to be the grandfather of some of these kids.
On the way back, a few of us stopped at the Wawa for a Gatorade break, and then we finished at Kim's. I rode back home at my usual into-the-headwind pace (after all, Princeton blows and New Brunswick sucks). Got close to 50 miles in; not bad! (Of course, that includes my pre-ride meandering and my ride home.)
And now I'm home, waiting for the dryer to finish and listening to the thunder. Glad I'm not out in it now!