Back in the Saddle on the Cranbury 200K

The climb back to event fitness has been slower than I imagined following my total hip replacement in October 2018. For planning purposes, I naively assumed the shortest possible recovery time, as if personal will had anything to do with it. As it turned out, however, my muscles were pretty out of whack following eight years of adaptation first to my 2010 fracture and then to the slow decline that came with the avascular necrosis. It turns out that some of my pain was the result of improper muscle use and general overuse rather than direct joint pain. So over the past six months, I’ve had to retrain the correct muscles to engage which has involved both mindfulness, physical therapy, and training.

In late April I felt prepared for my first 200K having ridden both 100K and 100-mile training rides earlier in the month. I selected the Cranbury 200K in part because it was organized by my friends down at NJ Randonneurs and would provide a great opportunity for brevet socializing and also because the route is blessedly flat. As the date approached, it became clear that the weather gods were on my side. With the exception of a nasty wind, the conditions could not have been better. It was cool and sunny with dry roads and lovely spring foliage in abundance throughout the day.

The enthusiasm for this ride was impressive with over 80 riders registered. I clipped in, following an overnight at my mother’s house where we enjoyed our annual joint birthday soiree and enjoyed the energy and camaraderie that comes from riding with dozens of riders heading out into a brevet. A field so large on a 200K almost ensures that one need not ride alone and this proved to be true for me as I enjoyed catching up with old friends and acquaintances and meeting new ones along the way. I rode much of the first two stages with NJ Rando stalwart Joe R. and we swapped stories about bikes, PBP and friends we have in common.

Just as I was approaching the Jersey Shore near Bradley Beach, though, I felt the tell-tale softness coming from my rear triangle that could only mean one thing. My tire was in need of immediate attention. Not more than five miles from the location I flatted on last year’s Cranbury 200K, it felt like some sort of cruel joke. While I replaced my tires the night before with brand new Continental GP 4000s, I seem to have installed my tubes too hastily causing a pinch flat to develop about 60 miles into the event. Luckily, I was able to replace the tube within eyeshot of the beach while sitting on a fresh patch of sod.

Having spent 20 minutes fixing my flat, I decided to pass straight through the lunch control after having my card signed and rear tire inflated and headed off into the hinterlands of South Jersey alone. While I do not recall much in the way of tailwinds throughout the morning, we all definitely experienced some major headwinds on the way home in the afternoon. The winds were of the 20+ mph variety with gusts up to 40 and there were several times I found myself struggling to stay upright. Luckily the route was not a straight shot into the wind so we were afforded breaks along the way. Not only that, a group of four of us teamed up together to ride in a paceline for much of the afternoon making the return journey much more enjoyable as a result of both conversation and workload reduction.

The final control on the well-organized Cranbury 200K offers a welcome banquet of pizza and beer. While I passed on the latter, I had plenty of the former and enjoyed some great conversation with friends new and old. The best part of the day, of course, was what I learned about my physical condition. While a bit tired at the finish, I was sore in all the right ways. Any discomfort came from my undertrained quads and adductors and not and from my hip which was stiff rather than sore. Not only that, but I somehow shaved 20 minutes off my 2017 finish time.

Up next: The Bash Bish 300K

Southern Hospitality on The Gainesville (GA) 200K

How is it possible that my last post to this blog was made on December 4, 2017?!? I guess I've been busy . . . At any rate, the brevet I am about to describe took place on March 10, 2018 and it was quite special for several reasons that get right to the heart of why I love randonneuring so much.

Every year in late February/early March, thousands of independent school educators from around the country converge for an annual conference and this year’s event brought me to Atlanta where I’ve never really spent any time. Getting in an early 200K in the Northeast is always a risky proposition, so I scanned the RUSA calendar and realized that Audax Atlanta was hosting a 200K not far from Atlanta the day after the conference closed.

This realization led to a series of emails to the RBA and then the ride organizer to see how I could make this all work. When I asked about bike rental options, the organizer asked my frame size and quickly offered up one of his own bikes for the job. This would be the third time in two years that a generous randonneur loaned me a gorgeous bike for an out-of-town ride. A recent post in the "randon" listserv asked for input on the "spirit of randonneuring" and to my mind, it's generosity like this that goes straight to the top of the list.

It turns out that Atlanta is a pretty spectacular city. While I could easily have been trapped for days on end in the Georgia World Conference Center, I decided to buy a cheap monthly membership in the Atlanta bike share program, thanks to the recommendation of my Facebook friend and fellow randonneur Scott C., which allowed me to roam the city streets and bikeways with a light blue cruiser each day before, between and after my conference sessions. 

Once my conference ended on Friday, I took the train to the airport where I rented a car to drive out to the ride start in Gainesville 90 minutes north of the city. On the way out of town, I stopped at the ride organizer's house to get my loaner (a gorgeous and comfortable Rivendell complete with downtube shifters, handlebar bag and Brooks saddle) dialed in. Andy A. and I chewed the rando fat for a while before I drove the rest of the way to the cute college town of Gainesville in northern Georgia, had a nice meal and got to bed early in preparation for the big day ahead.

The ride began at 7:00 AM and, with a forecast for a day filled with rain, most of the field kept a steady pace early on to put some miles under our wheels before the skies opened up. Since I had very little mileage in my legs at this time of year, I decided to take it easy and settled in with a nice guy from Atlanta named Bradley D. with whom I rode most of the day.

I wasn't quite sure what to expect on this, my fist brevet south of the Mason-Dixon Line. The route, one of Audax Atlanta's oldest, weaves its way through the hills of Northern Georgia on quiet, low-trafficked roads with nice views. Since the roads never freeze like they do in the northeast, they are buttery smooth rather than frost-heaved and cratered as they are up north at this time of year. 

I'd heard that dogs tend to run a bit freer in the south than they do in the north and this proved to be true, but not dangerously so. While the sign below was a bit unsettling to see early on in the day - shortly after being chased up a hill by a barking hound - things settled down a bit and so my worst fears were not realized.

Luckily, the rain held off until mid-day after we hit the turnaround, where Andy met us with a carload of treats, but when it did arrive, it made for a pretty soggy slog back to the start. Bradley and I split up at the mid-point, as he was eager to see the lunch spot that involved "goats on the roof," whereas I preferred to keep the momentum going. 

The route is a classic out-and-back and the second time I passed Lake Rabun was as pleasant as the first. Unfortunately, when the rains really started hammering, I missed a cue, turned the wrong way at a T intersection, and added about six miles EACH WAY onto my ride. I would have cried if it would have done any good, but let's just say I was a bit grumpy as I slogged back in the pouring rain along the only heavily trafficked main road on the route. It started to get pretty cold and my fingers grew increasingly numb as I reached the penultimate control where I ran into Bradley and a few other randos including a strong recumbent rider named Graham S. who dragged be back in to the finish control. 

It was nice to have company on the final push and it was very pleasing to make it back before sunset. The Rivendell performed like a charm even if the rider was a bit rusty and everyone I met in my travels was welcoming and fun to spend time with. This Southern hospitality business is no joke! I'm already looking forward to my next opportunity to clip in and share the roads with the folks at Audax Atlanta. Thanks for the good times!

Seattle in September: My Trip to Mecca

Immediately after learning that I would be traveling to Seattle in September for a conference, I jumped onto the Seattle International Randonneurs (SIR) listserv to inquire about permanent routes and bike rentals. In no time, I received myriad route suggestions, several invitations to ride and even the offer of a bike loan. This would be my first trip to Seattle, the randonneur's Mecca, and it looked like I would not be squandering the opportunity.

With clear skies in the forecast and a bike waiting for me, I was able to pack light for my trip out west. After discussing the route options with several acquaintances from PBP, we decided that the Hood Canal Loop 2.0 would provide a first-time visitor from the East Coast with a wide range of classic Seattle experiences wrapped up into a neat 200K package.

SIR has a miraculous system of permanent route organizing that's unlike anything I've ever encountered. All one has to do is sign up with the online "Perminator," which involves submitting a signed waiver in order to register for solo or group permanent rides with all of the necessary paperwork downloadable for your immediate use.

I cannot overstate the generosity and collegiality of the SIR crew I encountered on this trip. Nine of us clipped in on Saturday morning following a beautiful 45-minute ferry ride across Puget Sound and a delicious meal (I had a breakfast bran muffin and a great cup of coffee) from the Blackbird Bakery in Bainbridge. That spiffy black carbon fiber bike with the Di2 shifting (above right) would be my conveyance for the day and I could not have been happier (although returning home to my steel frame with Ultegra shifting was a bit disappointing). SIR stalwarts Shan, Jeff, Bill, Ken, Doug, Andy and a few others made the day a merry adventure that felt more like a brevet than a typical permanent.

The pungent smells of the forests that lined much of the route were noticeable from the very start. While the roads we would cover from Bainbridge to Bremerton were busier than I might have hoped, the views were spectacular and provided the first-timer with an outstanding cross-section of the local terrain. We were treated to mountains, wooded glens, fields, a "canal" and, of course, Puget Sound itself at the start and finish.

The route we followed has only two intermediate controls to slow riders down. By mid-day we had developed healthy appetites and so began to keep our eyes open for food shortly after mile 65. When someone noticed a "Homemade Pies" sign hanging in the window of a roadside luncheonette, we immediately stopped to investigate. It turns out that not only did this place specialize in homemade pies, but also a wide range of lunch offerings. I opted for a delicious bowl of chili before savoring a large slice of blackberry pie a la mode washed down with a cup of fresh back coffee.

The second half of the route brought us to the coastline of the Hood Canal, which seems not much of a canal at all, but which is scenic and unambiguously lovely. Once we arrived at the second intermediate control at about mile 80, Geoff asked which ferry we were aiming to catch back to Seattle. Which ferry, I asked?!? What a sensible question! It hadn't occurred to me to look. Apparently, there are only several ferries scheduled to return to Seattle from Bremerton on a Sunday afternoon and only three of them would get me back in time for my flight. The first was unlikely, the third would have me scrambling and so we set our sights on a boat that would depart from Bremerton, 42 miles away, in 3-1/2 hours. This plan would require a more deliberate pace than the one we had maintained during the first two thirds of the journey, but there is nothing like a concrete goal to keep one focused.

I did not want to fracture the group, but it was pretty important that I make it to my evening flight and taking a shower at the hotel before boarding was pretty appealing as well. As a result, I set the pace for much of the return trip with a careful eye towards keeping the group together. If things got really close, Shan and I might need to shoot off the front since it was his bike I would need to return before grabbing my things and heading to the airport.

Well, as the result of some determined hammering, the majority of our group made it back in plenty of time for the target ferry and even a beer and some "frites" at The Fritz. This meal was followed by a lovely hour-long crossing of Puget Sound from Bremerton to Seattle at dusk.

Thank-you to everyone who made my trip to Seattle so special. The generosity and good cheer I encounter in the randonneuring community never ceases to amaze me. Having completed my first SIR ride, I now feel entitled to wear my new signature blue wool jersey with pride.

So, the next time you find yourself in a far-flung part of the country on business or family travel, see if you can stretch out your trip to savor the local cycling experience. Research the permanent routes that may start near your hotel and see if any local randos want to show you around. I guarantee you won't be disappointed.

California Dreamin'

I always do my best to combine work and play. When I was invited to deliver a talk at a conference this past March in San Diego, I jumped at the opportunity and immediately began to think about how I could weave a little riding into my visit. I reached out to several helpful and generous members of the San Diego Randonneur club and found a 200K that appeared to be an ideal balance of hills and flats. I arranged to rent a bike from an outfit that would deliver and pick up from my hotel and bought a ticket on the red-eye back to NY giving me a full day to explore Southern California from the seat of a bike.

So after everything was planned, I packed up a suitable amount of gear and hit the road. If you ever find yourself in San Diego in need of a bike for the day, you could do much worse than to contact Stay Classy Bicycle Rentals. These folks are amazing. For $40, I got a totally reasonable road bike dropped off and picked up from my hotel, which could not have been easier or more convenient to arrange.

In the weeks leading up to the trip, I had explored the SDRando website and listserv and contacted a few generous and helpful souls who were more than happy to accommodate my need for a good 200K route to explore the area. As a newbie, I selected a ride that took in both beach and mountains feeling that this would provide the most comprehensive experience in the shortest amount of time. Little did I know how spectacular and ideal for road bike riding the southern California coast is set up.

On Friday morning, I woke up early to check out of my room in order to clip in and hit the road by 6:30. It was easy to get to the route start about 5 miles from the hotel by traversing the San Diego River Bike Path. It was a bit disconcerting riding through the various homeless encampments, but everyone seemed to be in good spirits and fairly disinterested in my fancy road bike. After picking up my receipt just before 7:00 AM at the first control, I took off into the pre-rush hour traffic in search of the hills beyond. What I soon came to realize is that San Diego is filled with urban sprawl. After an hour or so pedaling through heavy and often high speed traffic, I decided to make a break from the original route to forge a DIY out-and-back along the coast.

Dialing-in Google maps on my phone, I was able to locate a direct route to the sea, which brought me through the interesting UCSD campus where I poked around for a bit and tried to imagine how I could possible get anything done spending four years in such a pleasant environment. Apparently, they designed this cool library (above) in an effort to lure students in off the beach.

Once I hit US-101 north, I realized that I was in just the right place at just the right time. What I had imagined to be a boring flat bike path along the beach turned out to be a majestic rolling road with generous bike lanes and dramatic views. Each of the towns I cycled through was cuter than the last and it appeared that all of the 50-something men in the area were either spending the morning surfing or riding their road bikes along with me. What a way to live! It turns out that I should have selected to take the full coastal out-and-back originally, but while not getting RUSA "credit" for the route, I did manage to pack in 200 kilometers of absolutely stunning riding.

The great thing about an out-and-back route is that it's possible to dial-in the return time with great precision, which was helpful since I had to catch a flight back to New York in the evening. Unfortunately, the Town and Country Hotel has hundreds of rooms, but not a single shower to share with someone who has recently checked out. While I thought about jumping into the pool, it was not quite warm enough and so I cleaned up a bit in a bathroom and decided to sit in my own filth on the red-eye to New York.

All in all, my day riding through Southern California was just what the doctor ordered for my lingering seasonal affective disorder and a perfect illustration of how, with a little careful planning, it's possible to combine work and pleasure with the help of the generous randonneuring community. I'll keep this in mind as I plan my trip to Seattle in September.

The Catskill Climbfest 205K: Fall Foliage Edition 2016

At this time of year, as summer turns to fall and the foliage begins to reach it's peak, I'm drawn to the Catskill Mountains to experience this magical transition up close and unencumbered by suburban distractions. This year, I was lucky to be joined by friends Jon L. and Mordecai S. With temperatures in the low 50s at the start, we bundled up with full-fingered glove liners and leg warmers, vests and woolen arm warmers. Dressing for a shoulder-season ride such as this isn't easy with hills to warm us as we climb and cool us as we descend and altitude variation to influence the ambient temperatures throughout the day. No one wants to cart around unnecessary weight on a climb-y ride like this either so extra gear and luggage is to be kept at a minimum.

As we clipped in at the start shortly after sunrise, the roads were slick from an overnight rain, but the forecast was for dry, grey skies throughout the day. Fortunately, the freshly fallen leaves that covered many of the side roads we traversed in these early hours were fairly dry and not slippery as leaves can become later in the fall when they've been lying around and decaying on roads for some time. The climbing on the Catskill Climbfest route begins early on with a gentle climb from Rosendale up to the Ashokan Reservoir near Woodstock through quiet back roads, which gets the heart pumping and the body warmed up without anything too terribly taxing. Upon reaching the reservoir, the road levels out and the trees open up to reveal a dramatic view that includes both this beautiful source of the NYC water supply and the majestic Catskill Mountains beyond.

Knowing that within the next hour we would be climbing that ridge off in the distance made us savor the level riding while we could. The climb from Palenville to Tannersville is dramatic and gratifying. Unlike the Slide Mountain climb further up the road, the climb along 23A is steady and never too acute. The traffic can be a bit much with leaf peepers and hikers driving and walking to trailheads that line the road such as the entrance to the famed Kaaterskill Falls. Tractor trailers occasionally carry deliveries up to Hunter Mountain at the top of the hill as well, but luckily none of this caused any drama this time around.

After the climb to Tannersville, riders are rewarded with a long and sloping descent to the village of Phoenicia along the Stony Clove Creek, which caused such dramatic damage (some still visible and ominous) following Hurricane Irene several years ago. Upon reaching Phoenicia, we were disappointed to discover that the Mama's Boy restaurant has closed up shop leaving fewer options in town for a quick bite to eat. We decided to hold off on our main meal of the day until reaching the control at mile 90, but grabbed muffins and snacks to fill our pockets and water to fill our bottles for the climb ahead as we knew this would be the last outpost for provisions until we reached Grahamsville 35 miles up the road.

The Grahamsville Deli, not exactly a foodie haven, was out of chicken salad when we arrived, which was the only real disappointment of the ride for me. As a vegetarian, Mordecai was even less thrilled with our food stop than Jon and me, but we were able to amass the necessary calories and liquids to make it to the finish 35 miles down the road. The next stretch of the route includes the wooded and remote Peekamoose Road deep in the Catskills, surrounded by high peaks. The cascading waterfalls along this stretch road were mere trickles but still evident to the discerning eye.

After a dramatic descent along Peekamoose, the final stretch of road trends downhill to the finish from the reservoir with only a few rollers along the way. We were aided this time around with a stiff tailwind that made us feel strong and victorious at the end of a long and enjoyable adventure. We finished the ride in 10 hours and 41 minutes, which seemed like a pretty respectable time for a late-season 200K with 10,000 feet of climbing. It was especially gratifying to align this annual ritual with weather, foliage and friends.

Up next: November R-12 - Back on the train.

The NYC 200K: Coming Home Again

The NYC 200K was the very first brevet I ever rode back in 2007. At that time, it was scheduled in early April, but since then it has become a fixture on the NJ Randonneurs' fall calendar. I've ridden this route six times over the years and this past weekend was one of my favorites. With a year filled with slower than average times and weaker than average performance on the bike, I was eager to redeem myself with a strong showing to end the formal brevet season on a high note. While work and family commitments have made it exceedingly difficult for me to ride as often as I would have liked this summer, the beautiful weather and my overall enthusiasm for this ride combined to thrust me forward along the route at a good pace.

The ride starts and ends in NYC just a few blocks north of the George Washington Bridge, which riders cross in both directions at the beginning and end of the day. On the New Jersey side of the bridge, the route heads north through some fancy suburban towns along the western banks of the Hudson River towards Bear Mountain where riders begin to climb in earnest as they make their way west through the hills of Harriman State Park.

After leaving the first control in Stony Point, around mile 50, riders soon enter the shaded, hilly and recently-paved roads that are used to criss-cross Harriman State Park in both directions for much of the afternoon before heading back down toward our final destination. Cyclists aren't the only ones taking advantage of the fine fall weather on a day like this and it was not uncommon to hear the sound of motorcycles or sports cars approaching from the distance. Despite their somewhat macho enthusiasm, everyone seemed to be on their best behavior, eager to share rather than to compete for available space on these gorgeous roads. Due to a newly-enacted traffic rule, the organizers were unable to include the famed Perkins Hill climb in the route, which chopped off a five-mile out-and-back up a rather tall hill.

I was moving along pretty swiftly through the third control, which is located at a bagel shop in the village of Monroe. Arriving at the control as a solo rider, I missed the fact that there was a tent set up by a few volunteers around the corner and so waited for 10 minutes on-line for a bagel and a signature on my brevet card. After leaving the control, time slipped further through my fingers as I missed the first turn and continued on about 3 miles more than was necessary and came upon a crash involving one of our fellow brevet riders. Apparently, one of our own had careened into a car that had recently been T-boned by a pickup truck right on the main street through town. Luckily everything seemed OK, but I somehow managed to blow through about 20 extra minutes hanging around not being particularly helpful. After consulting my iPhone, I retraced the route and was on my way.

The NYC 200K is not an exact out-and-back route, but the second half does follow many of the same roads riders traverse in the early part of the day. My pace over the back nine was not quite as brisk as it was in the morning, but I was pleased to be able to keep the pedals spinning at a fairly good clip, which got me back to the start in under 10 hours. While not my fastest time on this course, it was nice to end the season feeling strong and quick rather than weak and sluggish. With any luck, this is a good omen for 2017 when I hope to again have time to train myself into better shape than I did in 2016.

Up Next: The Coffeeneuring Season Begins on October 7!

Heaven in the Heartland: The Holy Kettle 205K

As I was frantically tying up loose ends and packing for a trip to Milwaukee, where my wife is working on her MFA this summer, I thought all hope for an R-12 was lost. Then it dawned on me to check the RUSA database to see if I could locate a suitable permanent route in the area. When I contacted Ted D., the owner of the Holy Kettle 205K, not only was he happy to accommodate my last-minute request, but he also offered to throw a bike loan into the bargain! While I figured I could arrange a rental from an LBS in the area (or ride on the Brompton I brought along to explore Milwaukee), Ted was more than happy to dial-in one of the beautiful machines in his collection to meet my exact specifications. So rather than ride some assembly-line special, I found myself enjoying the company of a gorgeous Rivendell complete with 650b balloon tires, bar-end shifters and handlebar bag. I felt like pinching myself at several points during the day in fear that I might be dreaming.

The Holy Kettle 205K gets its name from a mash-up of two of its most defining features. After leaving the northern edge of Milwaukee along the shore of Lake Michigan, the route heads due west to a church known as the Holy Hill Basilica, located high on an outcrop above the verdant farmland below. The climb up the "holy hill" gets one's attention, yet the rider is rewarded with a peaceful setting high above the troubles of the world. After a brief stop at this control, I rode back down to earth to continue my journey north through the Kettle Moraine region, a beautiful area left behind following the last ice age that features smooth rollers as far as the eye can see. The headwinds were manageable throughout the morning, but took a little bit of the joy out of riding through the picturesque expanse of farmlands I saw before me on this first half of the ride.

The northwestern corner of the route, located within the boundaries of the Kettle Moraine State Forest, requires some climbing along lightly traveled scenic highways to reach. The control is located at a small shop run by a kind and welcoming couple who had clearly seen a few cyclists riding through over the years. As the sun had been beating down on me for the past several hours, a bottle of cold Gatorade and an ice cream cone really hit the spot. Bottles filled, I headed out to the east again in search of Lake Michigan and the tailwinds I was sure to encounter along the way.

The ride east from the third control begins with a series of welcome descents away from the park and into the more open farmland below. The roads along this section are generally smooth and straight and afford the rider plentiful views of the countryside that contributes to Wisconsin's well-deserved reputation as America's Dairyland. The penultimate control is found in the small village of Oostburg, close to the banks of Lake Michigan. The last stretch of the route that follows is divided equally between paved rail trail and sections of Lake Shore Drive, which seemed to be a very popular after-work cycling destination as I passed dozens of cyclists heading north out of Milwaukee on this fine summer evening.

It occurred to me, as I rode this last section of the route, that I had not heard a car horn nor had I felt the slightest bit of hostility from anyone I met along my entire journey. It was as if cycling along these farm roads was perfectly natural. No one made me feel like I did not belong. Cars and trucks gave me a wide berth on the roads and people waited at stop lights to allow one another plenty of time to pass. No one appeared to be in a hurray and no one seemed filled with rage. The theme of this day was certainly rooted in Midwestern hospitality, from the bike I was riding to the roads I was crossing, everything seemed to be conspiring to improve the quality of my life. I feel as though I had been served a slice of randonneur heaven. Luckily, my wife's graduate program continues next summer; I will definitely be back.

As an added bonus on this 10-day trip to Milwaukee, I was able to watch a former student of mine race as a pro in the Downer Classic, one of several stages in the Tour of America's Dairyland. It was my first criterium and boy was it exciting! I only wish they had organized a Brompton category.

The Catskill Climbfest 200K: PBP Tune-up Edition

Passing the Ashokan Reservoir with the Catskills off in the distance.

Some days it feels like I'm attempting to complete PBP on the absolute minimum amount of training possible and on others I remind myself that I've ridden a full series, a few hilly 200Ks and a fleche this year so everything should work out OK. Having completed the Lap of the Lake 1000K last summer without difficulty also brings me comfort as I realize that there is likely some residual fitness in there that I'll be able to draw upon in a pinch. With PBP a little over a month away, I wanted to top off whatever training I have under the hood with a challenging 200K and so put out the word and collected six friends to join me in the effort.

It was great to have such broad geographic representation on our little adventure with Robin L. (NYC) and Ed S. (NYC and Millerton, NY), Bob T. (NJ) Don N. (CT), David D. (CT) and Andrey B. (Rosendale) clipping in at the 7:00 am start.

One would be hard pressed to find a nicer 200K to ride on a warm summer day. There are two epic climbs on the Catskill Climbfest that give the route it's name. On each of these hills, our band split up a bit, but regrouped at the following controls, which made for a nice day of social riding that was (hopefully) neither too fast nor too slow for any of the participants. In between these two climbs are some healthy rollers and absolutely lovely valleys. It's a route replete with low traffic roads and stunning views. Deep in the heart of Rip Van Winkle country without cell phone coverage for much of the day, it's easy to feel like you've entered into a different world. I've never ridden a 200K I like as much. To ride it with friends brings additional pleasure.

There's nothing quite like a chicken salad sandwich at mile 90.9.

Even with some leisurely stops at the controls, we all finished at around the 10.5 hour mark, which left me feeling as though the day was not only fun, but that it, perhaps, also left us stronger than when we started.

The Ronkonkoma 200K: Two Ferries, Two Islands and a Very Big Duck.

The Ronkonkoma 200K is one of two brevets put on by the Long Island Randonneurs this season. Only in its second year, LI Randonneurs sure knows how to throw a party. This event had almost 50 starters, many of whom had not previously ridden a brevet of any type or size, which is a testament to the club's ability to effectively spread the word. Having ridden the club's inaugural brevet last season, I knew I was in for a treat that was well worth the price of admission.

This Saturday's event began at 8:00 am at the Ronkonkoma station of the Long Island RR and both the time and the location serve to accommodate the needs of NYC riders who want to travel to and from the ride via public transportation. At the start, RBA Steve and his partners Susan and Dan were filled with energy and good cheer as they signed riders in and offered hot coffee and bagels to all who were interested.

After a listening to Steve's safety instructions and wise advice, riders clipped in and hit the road. The first leg of this brevet involves riding over some pretty flat, low traffic roads that lend themselves very nicely to pace line riding. Aided by some healthy tailwinds, it was not too difficult to keep the pace above 20 mph most of the way from the start to the first control.

We arrived at the control with Steve still smiling as he signed in riders and doled out drinks and energy bars. After a quick pitstop, I headed out in search of the ferry landing only eight miles away.

The delight of our ride to the eastern tip of Long Island at this time of year involved seeing calm blue waters, peaceful back roads, low season activity in the quaint, historic villages, scores of diminutive pine trees and colorful early spring blossoms.

There are also two short ferry rides on this route, which provide great views of the coastline, the smell of the sea and allow riders to take in scenic Shelter Island for all of about 4-1/2 miles.  It's also nice to have a forced rest break while technically moving forward on the route.

Returning to the main island after our second brief ferry ride, we wound our way through the North Shore, which is filled with more wineries and fewer people than it's southern sister. In the final 25 miles, though, the generally flat terrain gives way to a series of choppy hills that were not exactly welcome after pounding out the preceding 100 miles in the 20+ mph range. Ouch!

Finally, what ride to eastern Long Island would be complete without a nod to the great Big Duck?

Up Next: the Blue Mountain 400K organized by PA Randonneurs this coming weekend.

Spring is Finally Here! A Solo 200K Makes Up for a Washout Down South

While I had planned to ride in the MD 200K in Late March, a terrible forecast for a weekend of rain caused me to reassess my plans. Somehow driving ten hours round trip to ride for ten hours in the steady 45F rain did not seem like a terribly good idea. As a result, I took a DNS down south in favor of a slightly delayed inaugural 200K right out my back door.

There were quite a few "firsts" on this ride. It was the first time I've risen before the sunrise to prepare for a bike ride this season.  It was also the first time I've ridden a 200K in 2014, which says something about how terrible this winter has been in Upstate New York. It was also the first time this season that I've heard song birds and spring peepers as well as the first time I've ridden without gloves on for at least part of a ride since last fall. I could go on, but you get the picture. Winter is finally gone and spring is here to stay.

While I'm not in the kind of shape I would like to be in at the beginning of April, I am so overjoyed to be out on the road on one of my nice bikes without the fear of corrosive salt crystals eating away at a beautiful steel frame that I just don't really care. Fitness follows the joy of riding, as they say.

After a cold start at home, I zipped over to New Paltz to the beginning of the Flatlander's Delight 200K permanent adding a few extra miles to the day. The rolling hills served to warm me up and got me to the start eager for the day to unfold. I love the early spring in the Northeast as the colors are still so muted and subtle and this atmospheric serenity was matched along this route by the peaceful country roads generally devoid of traffic during this mid-week excursion. Against this muted landscape, even the most subtle colors stood out dramatically.

Another thing I love about this route in particular is a short section of hard pack dirt about halfway through the ride. It always feels so "isolated" in all the best ways and leaves me wanting more. Time to design a permanent or two with more substantial dirt riding deeper in the heart of the Catskills.

One of the things I truly love about long rides are the many surprises we find along the way. Even on familiar routes, it's possible to discover something new and unusual. In this way, randonneuring feeds my need for adventure in the most welcome ways.

Next up: the Saratoga 300K on April 27. In the meantime, there will be lots of riding to get this old body back into "rando shape."