two more from cranbury in franklin

Friend Luis C sent along these two from the ride today:

Above: mostly the fast group. Below: some others. That guy on the left: is there that much lavender in that jersey?

 Thanks, Luis!

cranbury in franklin

 This ride was always gonna be chaos.

The title is a reference to the sometimes-huge rides that go out of Cranbury, our most popular start. The rides frequently split up, and are sometimes a bit... unpredictable.

Yesterday, Saturday, was rainy, and a number of folks didn't go out to ride. Today was colder and windy, but clear... but only three rides were listed: a slower ride, subsequently cancelled; a faster ride, the listing for which included this caveat: "I'm concerned about 35MPH wind gust forecast in Allentown. Will drive to the park and make game time decision", and my medium-paced ride.

At one point, I had 26 registrants, but there were a number of cancellations and no-shows. Still, we had 20 riders, at many different ranges of ability. It was clear that this group was going to break up into a faster and a slower group. I could see no way of keeping the group together, and with a group like this, I'm not sure that was a desirable outcome, anyway. Prior to the ride, Laura OLPH agreed to lead the slower group, and I knew I could count on Dave H to sweep; I also enlisted the services of Albert P to keep an eye on the slower end of the faster group.

Turfing out those responsibilities turned out to be a smart decision. People decided which group to ride with, and the decisions appeared correct as the ride went on. 

As we left, I heard over my shoulder, "I'm on your wheel, Jim." It was Len C. I said, "There's only one problem with that, Len: when I look into my mirror, the only thing I can see is a mirror full of Len C." There's no way to know how far back the rest of the gang is; and with Len, they might be pretty far back indeed; Len can lay down some wattage.

I tried to keep up with the fast group (who are mostly all younger than I), and was able to for a while. We rolled up to Colonial Park, where there was a call to use the toilets. While we were there, Laura rolled past with the other group, apparently not noticing we were in the parking lot near the rest room. There was subsequent confusion when we rolled in behind them. There was also confusion when I changed the route to avoid some headwind on Skillman Road on this windy day.

But we all got around to the Blawenburg Bistro, and some of my riders went in and spent cash at my currently-favorite café.

After the stop, I could no longer keep up a pretense of riding with the faster folks; I let 'em go off ahead and stayed in the back, and chatted with the folks, at a more "parade" pace.

I think some of these faster folks need to lead a B+ ride on Sundays, don't you?

Ride page.

facebook, and nothing is final

 In March, I went off Facebook.

But I recently heard from a person who had been very helpful to me. She wanted to hear from me, and the only way to contact her (and her preferred way) is through Facebook Messenger. So that's how I messaged her.

Also, I'm web editor for the Princeton Freewheelers. Some of our members use Facebook as a source of news about the club. My absence may be affecting club members and access to information.

And friends post useful information there. I may be isolating myself.

I've not heard that Facebook is doing any better on the misinformation issue; in fact, there are new lawsuits. More than one, apparently.

I've got to think more about this.

no good at this retirement thing

 So I've been off work from the job I retired from for about a month. I suck at retirement:

• I started at Sourland Cycles two days a week.If you count from my actual retirement December 1, I was out of work for about three days before I took the other job;
• I'm still not sleeping right; I got about two hours sleep before getting up, and then fell asleep for about forty minutes early this morning, before getting up for an early dental appointment. I did get a nap in, so I feel better, but I rarely sleep though the night;
• The dental work is costing a lot of money, so now I'm low-key worrying about money;
• I'm in the middle of rolling over my Rutgers retirement to the Vanguard where all my other funds are. They still do the rollovers by sending paper checks through the mail, so my Rutgers fund (at TIAA-CREF) showed zero balance for several days before Vanguard showed they got the funds (and there's still a hold on part of the cash as the check clears). That led to some more financial worry (suppose the money just doesn't show up?), but that was mitigated by the fact that I've been through the experience before, and I know how it works.
• I'm apparently being a real PITA at the new job, trying to be in everybody's business and show how helpful I can be. I'll find it ironic if I'm let go because I'm trying to do too much and wind up putting people off.

That sleep thing is really messing me up, though.

plastic bikes

I've been slandering carbon fiber for bikes and components for years, complaining that it was too expensive, didn't have a long lifespan, and generally wasn't worth the money. I've been calling 'em "plastic bikes".

But a few days ago, a customer picked up a lovely candy-apple red number from service at the shop where I'm working now. It turned my head.

Then I got a chance to work on one for a fellow club member. Nice ride.

OK. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I like the look, and especially feel, of carbon fiber frames. And bars. And maybe cranks.

The lifespan is still a problem, though.

(Above, the Van Dessel Motivus Maximus, sold at the shop where I work. Nice ride. Not pretty enough to get my attention, and I'm not going to research the pretty bikes that DO get my attention, because the consequences might be unsatisfactory.)
 

mutiny ride

 

Well, when there are only two club rides listed on a sunny (albeit windy) Sunday, I suppose I can't be surprised that I had seventeen registrants at the start. Some were new to me, and they brought a range of abilities from "just about able to keep up" to "holy bananas, but that character is fast; what on earth are they doing here?"

Laura OLPH had contacted me about having a glass sale; she'd made a number of globes and ornaments which she was selling at holiday-sale prices, with proceeds to benefit the Trenton Bike Exchange. Like, I was really gonna say no to Laura about that?

She later contacted me ans said they'd nearly cleaned her out. Laura may not be impressed with her own glassblowing abilities, but everybody else sure seems to be. (I also gave Laura another long-sleeve jersey I'd sewn up for her.)

My plan for the ride was to try one of my regular routes, but to see if I can find an alternative to Homestead Road. Homestead has a number of annoying hills, and I wondered if we could avoid that by going up the one nasty hill on Amwell Road; today I tested the hypothesis. Results were mixed: this one didn't like the increased traffic, that one thought this hill was less miserable, the other thought that Homestead was less demanding. I was hoping for a conclusive decision; I didn't get one. Alas.

We continued along to Thomas Sweet for the stop.

I got to talking to Bolong about bike maintenance... and the next thing I know, the rest of the ride is leaving without me, because I'm taking too long! Wait, what? Whose ride is this, anyway?

I guess there's a certain amount of anarchy in the club, or something.

We caught up to the rest of the ride when they were waiting to gather at one of the turns. As large rides tend to do, we broke into a faster and slower group; I stayed with the slower folks (even though both Dave H and Ricky G were sweeping). And we got back with everybody with whom we'd left!

Ride page.

good news, good start

 So the good news, after last week, is that The Excellent Wife (TEW) is COVID-19-negative.

The good start is that I started today at Sourland Cycles, the principal of which had texted me during my retirement dinner; the place where I did so poorly on the first interview and so well on the second. Did I think I knew something about bicycles? I didn't know nothin'. I am an example of Dunning-Kruger: I didn't know enough to know how much I didn't know.

Which makes it a perfect place for me to learn. If learning will really stave off dementia, I should be with it for several more decades. I got a lot of learnin' to do.

shoulders of giants

 At the board meeting of the Princeton Freewheelers last night, I heard that an anonymous donation had been made to the club, and with it, two ride leaders had been named as having been the precipitants of the donation. Christine R was one, and I was the other.

I'm honored, of course. But everything I know, I learned from other leaders: many good, some exceptionally bad. I will, of course, inevitably leave some out, but among those from whom I have learned the most (in alphabetical order):

• Tom Hammel
• Dave Hepburn
• Ken Leon
• Laura Lynch
• Joe Miller
  
• Al Porter
  
• Don Sprague

Thanks to all those on this list, and apologies to those whose names should have been here, but I forgot them.

nothing better to do

 OK, when I listed this ride, I warned 'em that there were miles of milled road, and that we were gonna come back on Main Street in Somerville and Bound Brook - NOT the most bike-friendly roads.

A day later, The Excellent Wife (TEW) was sent home from work after a coworker tested positive for COVID-19. While TEW's exposure was minimal, and the possibility of my having the virus on board even lower, I put a notice on the ride announcement about my possible COVID-19 status.

At one point, I still had eighteen registrants, including a doctor, a dentist, and a nurse. WTF?

Three dropped out, complaining of too much celebration at the Freewheeler Holiday Party the  night before (TEW and I didn't go, because just in case the COVID-19...). I had no idea it was gonna be such a happenin' affair! Now I'm extra sorry we missed it, and eager to go next year! 

Still, fifteen people went on this ride, with not-great roads, just because I like to drop in at that Italian Bakery in Raritan now and then!

In Hillsborough:

(I gotta remember to clean that camera lens...)

By this time, two of my riders with electronic shifting had had battery problems (doubtless due to the cold temps). I was crowing about the continued effectiveness of my cable-actuated, friction shifters. Sometimes I wonder why I have any friends at all.

As with any group this size, we were a slow group and a fast group; I spent part of the ride with each. (Many thanks to the excellent Dave H, my reliable sweep. I couldn't have managed nearly as well as I did without him.)

At the stop:

Some of us really like this place. (Many thanks to Albert, above, who brought me out something from the store, when I decided not to go in because COVID-19, just in case...)

We passed a number of motorcyclists in Raritan, and then more passed us; apparently there was a "Christmas is comin' " parade or some such. It caused comment among some of the locals sitting on a bench near the stop as they saw us come in... and then I got waylaid by one who clearly was medicated for some psychiatric issue. I wanted to tell him that he was eliciting skills I used on the job I'd just retired from (and really didn't want to use right then), but I haven't gotten that cruel yet. I'll give it a few weeks.

We  came back, initially slowly, through Somerville and Bound Brook, and by the time we were running the length of Elizabeth Avenue, the fast folks took off again; I stayed back with Dave and a couple of slower folks. I get some riders for whom my rides are just enough of a challenge that they want to keep trying, and I want to encourage those folks; I really want them to keep coming. (Dave is invaluable with these folks!)

But really: fifteen people on this ride? On this route? On this col day? Don't you guys have anything better to do?

he travels fastest...

It was agreed among Tom H's Insane Bike Posse that I wouldn't join 'em today out of COVID-19 concerns, so to assuage my disappointment, I did a solo ride.

39 miles, over 1500' of climb (including Dutchtown-Zion and sections of Hollow, Long Hill, and Spring Hill Roads), average 15.4. Top speed only 31, because I'm a terrible descender.

Pretty fly, for an old, retired guy.

I can't do it all the time (and I wouldn't want to; I like riding with my friends, when I can), but it's nice to know I still can sometimes.

(The quote is from Kipling: "Down to Gehenna, or up to the Throne/ He travels the fastest who travels alone." Kipling was a racist, sexist asshole, but a pretty good wordsmith nonetheless.)

ups and downs...

 I interviewed for a part-time gig at Sourland Cycles early in the week, and was dismayed to hear that I would not be considered for a mechanic job, although they did want to consider me for store help. My disappointment colored the interview, and many of the succeeding hours... and it became clear to me that, while I know what I know, there's a lot that I don't. 

It would not be fair, either to any shop where I would work, or to any customer on whose bike I was working with technology with which I am unfamiliar, to take a job as a mechanic. And while I have a lot of bike knowledge, it's not the knowledge that is useful in a retail environment.

Armed with that new realization and acceptance, I did a second interview yesterday, and apparently aced it. That interview was done by two other staff, and when they reported to the principal (who had done the first interview), he was not sure they were talking about the same person. I'm just off a call with him; he texted earlier today that I got the job, and on this call, we were  conversing like old pals. We're up to talking about start dates and manuals.

But then there's other stuff. Late yesterday, The Excellent Wife (TEW) was sent home from her job because a coworker with whom she's had some contact had a positive COVID-19 test. She does not think she is infected, and, based on the way she describes her contact with the coworker in question, I don't think she is either; nor do I think I am. She was directed to go for a test on Tuesday or after to verify her status; she has made arrangements for a test for Tuesday morning. If her result is positive, I will get tested myself.

We had intended to go to the Freewheeler Holiday Party, but decided that, even though we are both double-vaccinated and booster-shot, we would cancel. I'm really disappointed; there are some people going who are either new friends, or trending in that direction, and I had hoped to see them. Two of them, Albert P and Luis C, gave me a bike-print bow-tie for my retirement, and I wanted to express my gratitude by wearing it to the event, where they would see it. I will fall back on the pre-internet practice of a thank-you card.

Reaction from folks I've told about the possible exposure has been mixed, from "Come on out; we know how to be safe," to "You have a duty to cancel all engagements." I am trying to strike a reasonable middle way. I will doubtless upset people on both sides of the argument. I have withdrawn from Tom H's ride, scheduled for tomorrow. I am still planning to lead my Sunday ride. I have emailed all the current registrants with information about the situation and updated the listing for anybody who might register between now and the time we depart. I have had one cancellation, one rider replied to say he would stay back, one said "Thanks for the heads up. This thing isn't going away!  I'll see you Sunday."

Well, I hope to see you, whether Sunday or thereafter.

more retirement

This post turned out longer than I thought it would. I was going to type in some kind of permission to skip it (HAH! As if you needed that!), but I think I'd like any feedback you can provide, so I'd be grateful if you read through it. 

Are bitmoji's still a thing?

Today, December 1, is the first day I'm actually jobless in retirement (I stopped working on November 18, and the remainder of the month was paid leave: mostly various days that had to be taken or I would lose them, and yesterday as a vacation day, because some obscure Rutgers or UBHC rule forbids taking any of those types of leave as your last day of work). I haven't been sleeping well. The Excellent Wife (TEW) and I are both persuaded that the insomnia has something to do with the retirement process, but I have not been kept awake by wrenching, physically-painful anxiety as I have in the past; I just wake up, and it's clear I'm not going back to sleep for a while. So, rather than disturb the slumbers of TEW, I get up and do stuff on the computer, or read, or something. I can usually get back to sleep after an hour, or maybe 90 minutes.

The one thing I thought was going to be a major source of anxiety has not proven so (although I'm not completely free from concern about it). I expect a paycheck for two more days... and then I'm dependent on my savings, my retirement plan (also mostly savings, although I have two tiny pensions from the old world), and Social Security. I have the promise from Social Security that yes, the money will be coming... but not until the second Tuesday in January (there's a wonderfully Byzantine rule about when the payments from Social Security come to you, having to do with the date during the month on which you were born). But since it hasn't come yet, there's the nagging fear that it's not going to. (I've just now checked, and the two pension payments, due today, are, indeed, in the appropriate account. They appear with reassuring regularity.)

Three other things are floating around in the retirement-anxiety ether. The first is fear of the onset of dementia. When my father died almost a decade ago, my mother gave up all the friends and connections she had in Asheville (to where they had moved after my father's retirement, and which she loved), and moved into a senior-living home in Buffalo, to be near my sister (I was completely left out of these discussions, as I had been on a number of other family decisions, but that is a rant for another, also undoubtedly long and verbose, post). Although mother engaged in a few of the activities offered by the facility, as time went on, the offerings diminished, and my mother did not seek others (or even attend the few that were available). It's clear to me that she gave up on her life and was (and is) waiting to die. She has asked several times, "Why am I still alive?" Neither of her parents, nor her older sister, lived to anything like the age she is now.

Her memory has gone. She suffers from dementia. I'm convinced it's because she disconnected herself from life... and that has become a lesson to me: it is my intention to keep engaged, to meet new people and remain connected to current friends, to learn new things. There is good research showing that,, along with a physically healthy lifestyle (including nutrition and activity), engagement and intellectual challenge are protective factors against dementia. Well, I'm gonna do my best.

Which brings me to the second anxiety-related issue. As part of keeping engaged, I decided to look for a job at a bike shop, and I appear to have an opportunity at Sourland Cycles. I had hoped to be a mechanic, but, while it's true I've built my bikes from parts, and I'm a good meatball mechanic to get you home should something untoward happen on a ride, my skills are not at the point where I can do that at this store. It's been humbling to meditate on this over the past several days: after 36 years in the substance-abuse field, including obtaining a masters degree and a license; after experience in treatment, training, and prevention in that field; after having the respect of coworkers and colleagues... I'm starting off at the bottom of a new field again. I'm not an authority; I'm a tyro.

The third thought that intrudes: I'm not working now. I'm living off a "handout", Social Security (although I paid into the system for over four decades -- I worked for seven years in the insurance industry prior to the career change to substance abuse) and my savings. Am I a drain on society? Am I still contributing to the greater good? I've been rushing to keep promises I made to address things after I retire, whether commitments to friends, or "honey do" chores at home (there are painting supplies in the other room for a bathroom I'll probably address later today). Who am I? Who are my people? Am I doing enough for them that they aren't going to cast me out?

So there we are. I'm not going to be able to button this post up with a neat ending (as I think I like to do), because I'm still in the middle of these thoughts. There will be more to come, I'm sure.