TdF, Juniors and Seniors...

Up early (for me) this morning and out of the house and the road by 9:05. The day promised to be warm and humid but no rain. I have a century coming up next Saturday and decided that today would be the day to run the test. So I headed out for the hills of Hunterdon and then straight north up the Delaware River to Frenchtown. I deliberately skipped Federal Twist (long climb, hits 22/23%) and chose to go for distance. With that being said I finished with respectable 84 miles, almost 4K of climbing and a 15 mph average...I think I should be able to do my flat century without too much trouble. The highlight of the day was 5 or 6 miles of riding with a boy I'd guess was 12 or 13. He appeared before me on a long, rolling but mostly downhill stretch of road at about the 60 mile point for me. He was dressed in full racing kit, right down to the shoes, and was wearing a time-trialer's helmet. When he saw me coming up on him he kicked it up a bit and kept looking back to see where I was - seeing that twisting head/helmet was so much like watching some of the chase scenes in the Tour last week I had to smile. Every time I would close on him he would look back and kick it up again and move out to maybe a 20 yard gap. I really wasn't looking for a race but every time we would go into a downhill I would inevitably start gaining on him again without even trying, a function of outweighing him by at least 50 and maybe 75 pounds. Finally, on one fairly long stretch I did in fact pass him and shouted a "looking good" as I went by. He immediately locked himself onto my wheel and I pushed it up a little bit and pulled him up the next couple of miles - all uphill. At this point we were coming into the next town and I was starting to look for my turn. All of a sudden he launched his attack and giving it his all passed me and started moving away, all the while turning to look back and see if I would respond....My left turn came and my last sight of this aspiring Andy Schleck was the young man half standing and twisting his head around to see if I was going to respond. He had great form on the bike and was working so hard I had to smile at this little mini-race he had started with someone who could be his grandfather...Breaking Away in the NJ cornfields.

Yes!!!!

What more need be said?In the mail today was the CrossRoads East Coast ride jersey. Not that I need motivation but it does make my heart move up a couple of beats and maybe push up my training rides as well. We are now under two months until we convene in Maine and I'm looking forward not only to starting the trip but to meeting up with all the folks who rode XC09. One of the pleasant surprises in the package from CR was short note from Tom Dunn indicating that he would be riding with us. The more the merrier....

On other fronts...The training goes well. The weather has been awful the last week or so: temps over 100 and humidity close to the same number but for the most part I have manged to get in the miles I want. I'm well over 500 for the month and that is a good thing. I'm looking forward to my first century of the summer in a couple of weeks - I'd like to put in a request to the weather gods for temps in the low 80s and clear skies, no humidity please.

The house is still on the market and we have started doing the little maintenance items on the new house. I am not at all comfortable with this two-house nonsense but am trying to stay cool about it. We have deferred moving since the current house shows so much better to prospective buyers with furnishings but I suspect we will have a decision to make before the ride.....one of several little nightmares that occasionally have me wide awake at 3 A.M.

Where Lindbergh Once Flew....

The construction site looks like any other - big, heavy earth-moving equipment, raw earth and lots of speculation over what is coming next. Well to me this site is a little different. This was, until very recently, one of the last grass runway airports in the country. Up until a year or so ago it was still certified and in use. On weekends when I would pass by on a ride (it is actually about 4 miles from my home) and invariably see at least one plane take off or land, sometimes flying right over my head on the approach. A couple of years ago the elderly aviator who had owned/operated it announced he could no longer afford the property taxes and would have to sell. A bit of a bidding scramble broke out and for awhile it looked like it would become one more housing development in an area that (I think) already has more than enough housing developments. In the end my town and the neighboring town got together and bought it for a park/soccer field complex and the construction vehicles are now busy tearing everything up in hopes of having a playing field (pitch?) ready for the fall season.

My thought is that the soccer fields are far better than more McMansions but the passing of the airfield is also kind of sad. The field had a long history and was actually used by Charles Lindbergh when he lived in this area (his kidnapped baby was actually found at a roadside about five miles further on). The three old planes sitting in the weeds behind the deteriorating hanger are about all that is left of this little bit of local history. I'm hoping they keep both the building and the planes around just as a reminder of another era...

And so I wandered into the Sourlands on this hot and steamy morning looking for shady lanes to stay out of the sun - it hit 93 eventually - and roads that had strategically located corner stores so I could keep my water bottles full. The horse sculpture was new - was at the entrance to a horse farm that commands one of the best views in the county and is at the beginning of a pretty decent climb up to the one-time home of the same Charles Lindbergh (everything is related).

And final story....At the bottom of Lindbergh road is a little store much used by local cyclists. I bought my drink and joined an older gentleman ("older" can be a relative term) sitting on the porch. He almost defined the term "grizzled". Wiry and wrinkled and with skin like leather he later admitted to being 83 years old and laughed when I said I was 71. When I commented on his riding all these hills he kind of snorted - this is what I do, he said - cycling is a way of life. His only concession to age seemed to be the way he laid the bike down to get on but when he took off he was immediately into a pace that would be the envy of many a younger rider....I will add him to my short list of hero/role models.