As a child, I loved to ride my bike through standing water. There was a big park down by the river, and it flooded often. My buddies and I would sneak out after a big rain and go riding through the thigh-high water. We never got hurt crashing into submerged picnic tables because it was so hard to pedal that we couldn't go very fast.
These fond childhood memories came gushing back to me vividly as I rode the PBP permanent today, a 208Km (129 mi) loop connecting the towns of Princeton and Belmar, NJ.
The weather had been raining all week, and Saturday's forecast was for more of the same. As I drove my car to the start in Princeton, the news radio station predicted 'drenching rains' all afternoon. And they repeated the forecast every ten minutes, making it hard to ignore. But I had already paid my $5 fee, and was not going to throw that away.
I got off to a late start. My first distraction started when I arrived at the Princeton Junction train station, the start of the permanent. It must be a popular place for commuters heading into New York or Philadelphia, because there were parking lots all around, and each had big signs listing different entry criteria. Some lots were for local residents, some for permits, some for monthly passes, and so on. None said 'RUSA event parking'. All the businesses nearby also had big threatening signs to keep train riders out of their parking lots. I finally drove the bridge over the tracks to the other side and found a lot for 24-hour general public parking. That should work.
My second distraction came when I went into a Dunkin Donuts shop to get a donut, drink, and receipt, and to have my card signed. Well, the clerk complained that the night crew had not fixed her cash register, and she could not print receipts. Uh oh. And she did not want to sign my card. My powers of persuasion were not working. Each time I said something else, such as 'I am biking 129 miles today', she would believe me less. Finally, I think she signed just to get rid of me. Once outside the store, I remembered that I had a timestamped receipt from the parking lot, so I headed on my way...
The first 45 miles to Belmar went swimmingly well (pun intended). The skies were grey, winds were light, traffic was nonexistent, and it was dry. I had ridden the route three weeks ago, and I recognized most of the turns. I passed so many friendly cyclists that I lost count.
When I got to the Dunkin Donuts controle in Belmar, I was surprised to see my wife waiting for me. She had ridden her bike the three miles or so from where we are staying to the controle, and was waiting patiently. This was the first time she has seen me during a ride, and she was not happy with my appearance. She kept saying that I looked 'dead', which may have been true. She spoke to me for the few minutes it took me to snarf another donut and guzzle a drink, then I was gone.
The next 50 miles were not so dry, as I hit two separate rain storms. The first started shortly after leaving Belmar, and it rained hard for about two hours. I learned the challenge of reading a small-print cue sheet with raindrops inside and outside my goggles. It rained all the way through the next controle at a Wawa in New Egypt. There was a little break after leaving New Egypt, but then it rained hard for another two hours. It was interesting to ride through Fort Dix in heavy rain, with the booming sounds of a serious firing range in operation nearby, convoys of Humvees racing by, while biking in the rain. It was almost surreal.
The rain finally stopped (or so I thought) as I approached the town of Pemberton. The sun actually peeked through the clouds for a few minutes, and I squinted in the bright light, wondering about sunglasses. I lingered in the mens' room at the next controle at a Wawa store, enjoying the warm air from the hand warmer. It didn't dry anything, but it did feel good. I took a few photos of the old railroad depot in Pemberton, then headed out for the final leg, rejuvinated.
Alas, the brighter sky didn't last long. Less than 30 minutes after leaving Pemberton, the skies opened up again, this time with a vengeance. I remembered the weather forecaster's words about 'drenching rain', and realized this is what he meant. The deluge continued for another full two hours. I thought I had been soaked before, but that was nothing. It was raining so hard that cars actually seemed to be driving a little slower. I got off the bike twice just to make sure my two taillights were working. I hoped the Superflash brand was up to its marketing hype.
It was on this leg that I had my favorite experience of the ride, and this is what brought back those childhood memories of riding under water. As I crested the top of an overpass over I-195 or the Turnpike (I have no idea which), I could see tons of rainwater gushing down the bridge with me to a big flat spot at the bottom. The entire roadway was under water, six lanes wide with entrance and exit lanes, probably the size of a football field. And it was anyone's guess how deep it was.
Now a child may be forgiven for doing foolish things, but there was no such excuse for me. Prudence said I should ride the brakes and cross the abyss with all due concern, but I ignored Prudence. In two nanoseconds, I saw the opportunity, weighed the alternatives, upshifted, squealed out loud, and pedaled down the bridge as hard as I could. I blew two huge rooster tails to either side as I blasted through the lake, I soaked myself with greasy water, and blew road schmutz into my face. It was absolutely great. It was my favorite part of the ride. And I only hit one huge pothole in the underwater pavement, and it didn't cause snakebites.
The slog continued through another few towns, but time and memory jumbled together after that point. The rain let up a little for a controle in Cranbury, and finally stopped for good as I approached the end of the ride at Princeton Junction.
When I got to the finish, I was surprisingy lucid. I remembered the hassle I had at the Dunkin Donuts this morning, so I first made a withdrawal from an ATM across the street to get a timestamped receipt, then I went to Dunkin Donuts to have my card signed. It was a good decision, because I stood on line forever behind one customer on his cellphone who was taking orders for individual donuts and custom blended coffees for a party at his house. Arrgh.
I was amused that the clerks at three of the controles recognized my permanent card and almost grabbed it out of my hand to sign it (Belmar Dunkin Donuts, New Egypt Wawa, and Pemberton Wawa). They must have seen lots of RUSA riders coming through. On the other hand, it was obvious neither clerk at the Princeton Junction Dunkin Donuts had ever seen one. Next time, I'll find another place to get my card signed. :-)
Overall, it was a great day. It was my first long ride in the rain, and it gave me plenty of time to think about improvements. I might actually buy some real rain gear. And a visor. Oh, and maybe a shower cap. Temperatures were mild throughout the day which made the rain very tolerable. I shivered cold for the first few minutes after each stop, but quickly warmed as blood resumed pumping. And finally, my dumpster bike held up for yet-another long ride, I had no flats, and traffic was very cordial (except for one driver in Hightstown who rolled through a stop sign causing some angst).
And when I got back to the parking lot at the Princeton Junction train station, I enjoyed a few high speed trains blasting through the station. It's on the Northeast Corridor, so trains can go fast. So neat to watch the high-speed electrics blow by.
Here are my photos from the ride. Most photos are from the first leg when it was dry. I borrowed the camera from my friend Jayjay, and kept it dry in a ziplock bag during the rainy parts of the ride. Enjoy.
http://picasaweb.google.com/sagittandy/PBP200?feat=directlink
Look at this junk mail I received today (partially photoshopped for privacy). Happy New Year to you too...
Central North Carolina is now having its first snow flurries of the season, along with a flurry of weather-related posts on the local rando newsgroup. Bad poetry ensued...
If you haven't discovered www.xtranormal.com, I highly recommend it. It is a website which lets you create your own animated cartoons. You type the script, move the camera, add gestures, sound effects, background music, and so on. Behold the future of epic ride reports.
Several cyclists have asked about my blinky pedals. These are stand-on pedals with internal generators and red LEDs all around. They flash as you pedal, providing a unique up-and-down pattern. I've been told they are highly visible day and night, and drivers quickly recognize me as a bicycle.
We laughed out loud. We were riding the RUSA Tar Heel 200 permanent today in crisp and chilly temperatures, and had just rushed into the convenience store in Stedman NC to thaw a little. The employee, who recognized us from past rides, shouted out this warm and welcoming greeting. Our teeth chattered as we laughed and scurried off to find the hot drinks.
And now for something completely different...
I rode the RUSA permanent Showdown at Black Creek 200K today. We tried it a few weeks ago in horrendous rain, and we about froze. I tried again today and got my revenge.
One day last week, we had the first early morning of the season with temperatures that got a little bit cold. I was bike-commuting along the Tobacco Trail in the pre-dawn darkness, staring intently for unlit joggers wearing the latest in matte black gruppo, when I felt a little shiver from the cold.
During their formative years, children assimilate many of the behaviors of their parents. Click the thumbnail for a larger view of one example.
Jayjay and I rode the first 25 miles of the RUSA Showdown at Black Creek today, in big rainstorms and crosswinds. It was fun, but we eventually had to admit we were not properly equipped. We turned around at the convenience store on the Bunn Bypass (Old Halifax/Brantleytown Rd at Pearces Rd), rather than risk hypothermia.
Oh yeah, there was one other point. As I biked back to the starting point in North Raleigh, the rolling hills didn't seem as bad as I had remembered from the last time. And my bottom wasn't really sore when I got into the car. Then I realized this was only a 50 mile ride, and not 120. Ha, just wait until next time...
Here are misc photos from the last two weeks:
The question
At least that's what six randonneurs pretended we were looking at...
Jayjay and I rode the RUSA Tar Heel 200 today (in eastern North Carolina). It was a glorious overcast day, with the slight crispness of approaching autumn in the morning and a few hours of summer heat in the afternoon. Although Jayjay thought she felt a raindrop or two, our ride was completely dry.
I stopped and took some random photos while I was biking to work this morning. Riding in the dark, nice roads, moderate traffic. It's a perfect way to start a work day.
I am not an athlete. I never was. I am a 50-something office geek. Over the years, I did the obligatory 30 minutes of cardio at the gym now and then, and an occasional 5K racewalk, but that was it.
As we biked, our distances kept increasing. Over a few months, we learned about food, drink, flats, chains, and chemical toe warmer pads. Eventually we rode 100 miles. And then did it again. And finally, I did the math and realized we were within reach of the RUSA 200km distance and 13+ hour time limit. Maybe randonneuring wasn't so crazy after all. My eyes sparkled and I was hooked.
Start riding today. Ride whatever bike you've got. Ride whatever fitness level you've got. Wear whatever clothes you've got. You will soon learn everything you need to know. If you bonk, eat better. If your bike breaks, get better parts. If you feel unsafe in traffic, ask for help. If your joints hurt, get them checked. If your butt hurts, well, I still haven't figured that out. Your equipment, your impunity, and your fitness will steadily improve. Your distances will increase.
So take the plunge and start riding. I guarantee that you will be doing official 200km events before you know it. You will soon call yourself a randonneur. Your name will be on the RUSA website. You can buy yourself medals. You can wear a randonneur T-shirt. And then you can start writing your own blog and dispensing your own advice.
We are such geeks. My cycling buddy Jayjay and I would never dream of sprinting toward a state line boundary sign during a bike ride. There is no allure. But put an electronic traffic speed detector on the side of the road, and watch us go...
It's got fenders.
"Oh, nice." That's what I said to three bicyclists this morning after they told me they were riding 100km. My tone of voice must have been patronizing, because they all gave me a highly indignant look.
Jayjay and I rode an 80-mile portion of the RUSA Kerr Lake Loop permanent in North Carolina and Virginia today. The full permanent route is shaped like a lollipop, with the loop portion going around the lake, and the stem heading down toward Raleigh. We only rode the actual loop portion today, both for fun and to learn the route. Unofficial rendering on gmap-pedometer: map
I had the day off work today and went for a nice bike ride. I discovered this elusive RTP sign (see http://ncrandonneur.blogspot.com/ for additional references).
I was ready to drink the Kool-Aid when I first saw this sign. My bicycling partner Jayjay and I were finishing a hot and humid 120 mile bike ride, the RUSA Tar Heel 200, and I could have used a jolt of youthful energy. Luckily I realized the true meaning before I went inside and embarrassed myself.
The weather had been raining all week, and Saturday's forecast was for more of the same. As I drove my car to the start in Princeton, the news radio station predicted 'drenching rains' all afternoon. And they repeated the forecast every ten minutes, making it hard to ignore. But I had already paid my $5 fee, and was not going to throw that away.
When I got to the Dunkin Donuts controle in Belmar, I was surprised to see my wife waiting for me. She had ridden her bike the three miles or so from where we are staying to the controle, and was waiting patiently. This was the first time she has seen me during a ride, and she was not happy with my appearance. She kept saying that I looked 'dead', which may have been true. She spoke to me for the few minutes it took me to snarf another donut and guzzle a drink, then I was gone.
Alas, the brighter sky didn't last long. Less than 30 minutes after leaving Pemberton, the skies opened up again, this time with a vengeance. I remembered the weather forecaster's words about 'drenching rain', and realized this is what he meant. The deluge continued for another full two hours. I thought I had been soaked before, but that was nothing. It was raining so hard that cars actually seemed to be driving a little slower. I got off the bike twice just to make sure my two taillights were working. I hoped the Superflash brand was up to its marketing hype.
And when I got back to the parking lot at the Princeton Junction train station, I enjoyed a few high speed trains blasting through the station. It's on the Northeast Corridor, so trains can go fast. So neat to watch the high-speed electrics blow by.
So this is summer in New Jersey?
Yet-another cheap hack, and yet-another instructable:
A spooky sunrise, shortly after 6am on Tuesday, May 12, 2009, during my bike commute. So very neat.
Alright, so it wasn't that hard.
Actually, it was shouted more like "ARRGH, YOU TWO LOOK TERRIBLE!!!", accompanied by a scrunched facial expression and slightly recoiled body language.
We had one mechanical problem. About 25 miles out, Jayjay's right bar-end friction shifter completely locked up. It had been hard to shift before, but completely froze today. After three or four unsuccessful shift attempts going up one hill, all forward motion had been lost anyway, so we stopped to look at it. I was able to force it into a central usable gear, so she could proceed shifting only the front chainring, effectively a two-speed bike. We decided to continue onward and work on it seriously at the Kountry Kwik Pik.
As we approached the town of Black Creek, I started wondering where the body of water known as Black Creek was located. I slowed going over every bridge, trying to evaluate if it the water was black enough, or if it could be called a creek. I took lots of photos, but don't think I found it. Our next ride will be the "Search for Black Creek".
I felt something funny as I rode my bike to work on Friday morning, but I couldn't quite figure it out. On the way home that afternoon, the symptoms steadily got worse and became more identifiable. I heard a loud clunking sound now and then, which was very similar to the sound made by my industrial padlock banging on the frame. I removed the padlock from its hanger, but the banging continued. As I pedaled, I also felt a very fast buffetting sensation, as if the wind was blowing me forward and backwards, reversing direction about eight times per second. It was very windy on Friday afternoon, but I didn't think wind could change direction so fast.
We bicycled the RUSA Tar Heel 200 today, from Benson, NC to Tar Heel, NC and back, 200 km (124 miles) round-trip. We enjoyed perfect springtime weather. Temperatures stayed in a nice range, from crisply cool in the morning to mildly warm in the afternoon, so we didn't have much hassle with layers of clothing. We had no flats, no mechanical issues, we ate and drank well, and our bodies survived. We had great directions on the cue sheet, few dogs, few hills, gorgeous scenery, charming villages, immaculate homes, and flowers in bloom everywhere. We finished in just under 12 hours.
Between Dunn and Erwin, three big military cargo planes caught our attention as they quietly dropped out of the sky directly overhead. We also encountered a little commotion as a mobile home came down the road with escort vehicles chasing everyone to the sides of the road.
Overall, the Tar Heel 200 route is incredibly flat. The biggest climb is an overpass over I-95, just east of Wade. Other than that, there are a dozen 'dips' where flat farmground drops down to a creek bottom and then back up the other side. Nothing else is worth mentioning.
Humor: And finally, since this ride was just a few days past 'April Fool's Day', I modified the sign in this photo as a spoof. Click on the photo and read the fine print. Enjoy.
