a few miles before breakfast

I'm not always as grumpy or disapproving as I am in that selfie.

The weather prediction for later today is for humidity and rain, so I figured if I was gonna get out for a ride, I better go early. I was shooting to be on the road by seven, so I did my usual dose of Dunin' Donuts coffee (48 oz with half&half & Splenda; I admit to being a coffee Philistine). I almost made it; responding to a text from A Higher Priority made me about ten minutes late. I got on the road, but before I get out of the condo association, I missed my mirror, which meant I didn't have my helmet on; went back to don the helmet, and then on the way.

There was some chatter among Tom's Insane Bike Posse of a ride this morning, but s/he travels fastest who travels alone, so off I went. I figured about 40 miles would be good, if the weather allowed.

As I was rolling up Canal Road, I saw this:

Well, that was a surprise, in the middle of ruby-red Republican Somerset County, NJ. Or perhaps not: it's not that other lives don't matter; it's that black lives do, too, just as much as any others. 

On I went, over roads that are familiar enough that I don't need a route in the GPS to find my way (well, mostly; keep reading). Found another place to empty a bladder in the absence of the usual porta-potties (but I'll be glad when they're back; I feel I'm risking a fine for public nuisance). Unusually quick speed, too, in the first half.

I got to Burnt Hill and decided I'd add a few pedal strokes by doing a loop through Skillman Park that was the old Village for Epileptics, and came up behind a couple of cyclists who turned out to be John W and Bob N. I didn't get pictures (I was carrying the cell phone instead of the camera, and didn't make a point to stop for the pictures), but we rode together for a while until I turned off to head for home...

...which I did a bit early, and wound up rollin' up 206 instead of Bridgepointe, as was my intention. I figured out my error reasonably quickly and got turned around, and went over the bridge at Dead Tree and on up to Harlingen.

Now, I've been on that stretch of Harlingen dozens, maybe hundreds of times... but I never noticed this until Ricky posted a pic on Facebook this week:

That sign in the back?

...also in ruby-red Republican Somerset County, NJ. There's more sense in the world than I give credit for.

On the way back, I figured I'd wind up with fewer than 40 miles, but my stomach was also complaining for sustenance, and I decided a foolish insistence on a number wasn't worth turning what had thus far been a nice ride into a death march, so I proceeded home. On the way, on Canal Road, I came up on a cyclist stopped on the right; she turned out to be Mindy B. We had a few words; she spoke about how she's not ready to come on group rides yet (and I can't blame her).

And then home. I wound up with a smidge over 36 miles at a pretty good clip. Not bad for a guy with a Medicare card in his wallet and two pensions coming in, before he's had breakfast.