Umpteen years ago, Tom H led a more-than-moderately-hilly ride starting from Frenchtown, immediately crossing the Uhlerstown bridge, and heading west, navigating a series of hills around Lake Nockamixon in Pennsylvania. He was perhaps ingenuous about the amount of climb he intended, the number of closed bridges he would cross, and the terror to be engendered by the downhills, and the route became known as the "Lying Bastard Ride".
He runs it every year, altering the route somewhat each time; he invites a number of his riding friends along each time; each time we complain about what a chore the route and ride are... and each year, a few of us go out with him on it.
He calls us his "Insane Bike Posse". One of the humorous "definitions of insanity" is "doing the same thing, and expecting different results", and by that definition, Tom has decided we're insane, because we do complain, but we consistently ride with him anyway.
I can't argue with him on it.
At the start in Frenchtown, I saw this:
Yeah, one portapotty wrapped in "do not enter" tape, and the other on its side. We found trees to fertilize, instead.
Crossing the Uhlerstown bridge:
Tom is known for leading us over closed roads and bridges. This one has been closed for years, but Tom thinks it's just because PennDOT can't be bothered maintaining it.
Except for the weeds, there's nothing to interfere with a bike going across. We've used this crossing for years.
Either I'm getting stronger, or Tom really had misrepresented the ride; the climbs were demanding (like many in that part of Pennsylvania, some rise sharply, but not for very long), but were not more than we do regularly. Some of the descents, though, were scary. There's a section of Headquarters Road that's little more than a path (it doesn't show on some maps). It was a wicked sharp descent on a poor road surface. On the way down, I got a steering shimmy, a poorly-understood and terrifying phenomenon where the handlebars shake back and forth, out of control. It can be managed by either speeding up (no, thank you) or slowing down, but Robert N was behind and I didn't want to risk his rolling over me. I made it to the bottom of the descent still upright on the bike, but my confidence (among other things) was shaken.
At one of our stops along Lake Nockamixon:
New Jersey has one covered bridge that is a reconstruction, but this part of Pennsylvania has real covered bridges that are still in use.
Did you note the wetness on the roads? I can't really say it rained, but there were prodigious amounts of what new Princeton Freewheeler Eric H has christened "mountain sweat". The hills were definitely sweaty today.
We rode for a short way along Dublin Pike/Pennsylvania 313. There was a descent there, with vibration indentations along the right side of the lane for the traffic. I inadvertently rolled onto it, and thought the shimmy was back. I was more careful thereafter.
We came upon this house that had sculptures in the yard. I had to get pictures.
That one above is a cow, made from a household heating-oil tank and a milk can.
We stopped again to take pictures of the lake...
...and to send this picture to Laura OLPH, who had blown off this ride for her glass-blowing class.
How would she know we still loved her if we didn't send some abuse?
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