When I woke up this morning, the wind was blowing at 15 - 20 MPH and it
was about 50F. Somehow, making my way to central Bucks County PA for a
covered bridge road ride didn't seem all that entertaining so I slept a
little longer. I was hoping to sleep just long enough to say, "I
forgot, damn" and I did.
The rain for the past seven days certainly didn't help most of the
higher elevation trails in my area and being the conscious rider I am, I
allowed them to recover. So, that leaves the only trail I know where
water makes it better - the mighty Jersey Devil Trail (or as the
anti-bike people call it, the Batona). A nice group of us met up at the
diner across the street from the trail head. Just me and another
singlespeeder, but at least two others in the process of getting one.
See, I'm paying it forward. There must of been something about being
kept inside for the past week, because we were like cannonballs being
shot out of a cannon. The immediate adrenaline rush of a pine needle
covered and scented singletrack was too much to hold in. I was leading
at this point, spinning as fast as my 16/34 would take me while weaving
in and out of the trees. More logovers than usual this time as newly
fallen trees have taken their rightful place on the trail. This is a
good thing, for it makes an otherwise flat trail a little more fun.
As we fly through the pines, many deer are running along side us. It
was pretty cool to see them in great numbers before the hunters thin
them out over the next few weeks. However, by the number of fawn we
saw, they'll be plenty sticking around.
Not much sugar sand now as the rain has solidified the ground just
enough. Some of the exposed roots have gotten a little worse. I manage
to OTB but land on my feet going up hill over two nasty roots. I clear
the first but since I was out of my saddle, snagged the second. No big
deal, on the bike within seconds and spinning at top speed again.
We reach the boardwalk over the marsh and Mike goes flying sideways.
The algae and rain have turned ordinary wood into something slicker than
ice! We walk the boards which is far better than landing in bog mud.
If you have ever been to a defunct cranberry bog and smelled the mud,
you'd know what I mean. Once at Pakim pond we decide to forgo the Mount
Misery trail for fear of deep sand and mud, then turn around and high
tail it back as fast as we came. A screaming 16 mile journey which
culminates in Lunch at Anapay's.
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o-o-o-o Ride-A-Lot o-o-o-o
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