twenty miles can take all day

 

I had more fun on this ride...

Harv M, manager of the New Brunswick Bike Exchange (NBBX), arranged a ride for the volunteers, starting in Atlantic Highlands near the twin lights, going up the Henry Hudson trail about ten miles to the end of Sandy Hook, and back. So, twenty miles.

Well, yeah, it WAS the NBBX volunteers... but there was also Harv's boss, and a number of associated family, and some from his wife, Rosa's, volleyball team (that's she, above, expressing a loud and undoubtedly thoroughly-researched and thought-out opinion)... so there were 23 of us, at all kinds of riding abilities. 

We started at 9:45 (or a bit later) in the morning, and got back to the cars at about 4:30 pm, after getting completely separated and rejoining again, stopping for many picture stops, stopping for ice cream, stopping for a sit-down lunch at a local seafood place...

It was great fun. The NBBX volunteers are just a delight in my old age, the other folks were all friendly to newcomers; we had a great time. There are already rumblings of another NBBX volunteers ride.

At the start:

At Sandy Hook:

Gathering again:

So many bikes!

At the lighthouse:

Above, we decided the pig on Dr H's bike needed some ornamentation. Below, Soni coaches Marcia into yet another athletic climbing-on-top-of-something pose. (There's a story in it; ask them.)

 

On the Atlantic Highlands bridge. After getting completely separated, we caught up with the rest of the gang again.

It was a great day. We're losing Harv and Rosa to the greater world. I will miss them. I'm glad I had this experience to share with them, and with all the folks who came along.

too good to pass up

 Friend Tony G, of the beautiful bikes (see also here and here), gifted my with an old-school Shimano 105 2x8 groupset. 

I had initially thought to donate it to the New Brunswick Bike Exchange, but it's too nice. The shifters appear to be in fine working order. That saddle is a Selle Italia with titanium rails. 

 

It needs some cleanup and TLC, but it's lovely. The tires need to be replaced, and I may not use the chain that came in the bag... but also included was a bottom bracket and a set of downtube cable stops.

I'm gonna wait until The Excellent Wife (TEW) sees this post... and then I might start looking for a frame to hang this stuff on. It's geared way too high for this old man (I'll never climb a hill on a 53x39, 11x23), but it might be just the thing for a slow, elegant, flat ride.

There is NO WAY I'm giving this up.

may reconnaissance ride

 

With nothing else planned to do today except for my usual late-afternoon-early-evening shift at the New Brunswick Bike Exchange, I got out on a ride today, partly to get some info. Stuff I learned:

• This route isn't 30 miles, either, although it's a lot closer than this one was.
• When the price is reasonable, I really like bib shorts. I got a pair free from a kind neighbor who got them as part of his business (and he didn't know what to do with 'em, but he knew they were bike-y and that I ride bicycles, and he's interested in maintaining good relations). I like those well enough to ask around and do some searches; I found pairs at (what I consider) reasonable prices from The Black Bibs and Baleaf. I suspect The Black Bibs has slightly more cachet than Baleaf (although neither is gonna mean anything to the All-Rapha-All-The-Time crowd), but the Baleaf shorts have the silicone thingummies in the pants cuffs to hold 'em in place; you can get a similar thing at The Black Bibs, but it's $20 more. When bib shorts were $90, I said no way, but now that they're less than half that, they're right up my alley. (The pad on the Baleaf is not to be sneezed at, either.)
• Porta-potty alert: the porta-potties are back at the Country Classics park on Amsterdam Drive, as well as one at the tennis court at the Amsterdam School on the same road. The toilets at the fields at the Mill Pond Soccer Field were unlocked today, and there is a porta-potty in an adjacent parking lot. So there are now options to the Veteran's Park Arboretum.
• While I'm doing my best to manage my fat-shaming, I am unrepentant about my old-shaming. I keep my jerseys zipped up (despite any heat - I was overdressed today) because nobody wants to look at my scrawny, grey-haired chest (I don't even put zippers in the jerseys I make for myself). I've been shaving my legs because it makes my grey-haired, scarred-up gams a little less awful. (I'm sure I've said it here before: there are looks that are cute in your twenties, and rebellious in your thirties, that are just weird and creepy in your sixties. We patronize a health-food store, and some of my male contemporaries who are customers still adopt the unkempt hippie look; every time I see one of these guys, I give myself another [shorter] haircut.) With a body that looks like mine, I keep it covered and trimmed; it's a public service.
• After getting rained on over the weekend, the front derailleur of the Yellow Maserati was hard-shifting. Now, a few years ago, I worked on a derailleur that had locked up due to grit in the system; it did not respond to mechanical force, but it did respond (well) to the application of penetrating oil. Over the past couple of days, I'd given the Yellow Maserati derailleur the penetrating-oil treatment, and it's responded nicely. Which led me to think: at the Bike Exchange, we get a number of toy-store bikes with twist-shifters on which the front derailleurs barely move. I've been thinking the problem was the cheap shifters (and they are cheap; it's clear the cables are not intended to be replaced), but now I wonder if an application of penetrating oil on the front derailleur pivot points might relieve the problem. It's a hypothesis I intend to test. Maybe I'll remember to post results, although I doubt any of my readers are that interested.

It was a pensive couple of hours.

edison bike tour

 

No club ride today, instead, volunteers from the New Brunswick Bike Exchange (and some others) provided support for the Edison Bike Tour. That's the rogue's gallery, above.

Rumor had it that the route was gonna be 21 miles, but RideWithGPS reports 26 (I had a couple of extra miles before the start, because of course I did). I'd hoped to ride ahead and back to add miles, but that wasn't the way this one worked; the police closed the roads as we all went by, and we had to stay with the peloton (there were kids and other slow riders, so we couldn't all go at our own speeds). 

At one point, a rider had a flat, and I was halfway through getting him going when I was stopped and told to have him and his bike carried by the sag wagon, to be addressed at the stop, because we couldn't allow any more time with the road closed. 

Even with just 26 miles, I was beat, with the constant starting-and-stopping, the slow speed, and the looking out for riders who needed attention. And I'd dressed for the predicted mid-60's-and-rain, not the 82-and-sunny that we actually got!

 I had a couple of nice chats with the support cops (which were among my most successful interactions with the constabulary: all those police, and not one said, "OK, license and registration. Do you know why I stopped you?").

It was fun. I'd do it again...

...but on the way home, the seatbag fell off the bike and got run over in traffic.After the loss of the favorite tire tool (and also the discovery that a pump wasn't working) yesterday, I'm in a foul mood over the need to replace so many bike-y things on which I depend. (I did salvage a good CO2 inflator and some metal tire levers... but a collection of chain quick links, among other things, is gone, gone, gone.) I am exceptionally grumpy about it.

Enough. How about some more pictures?