reason chose not to, you missed a FABULOUS ride.
Stitches, Beast and Locomotive meet Dubya and Freshman Todd in Cold
Spring Harbor. From there we headed due east. Loco must have had
something to prove, or was really pissed off about one thing or
another, because as soon as we hit the first climb out of CSH he took
off like there was fire blowing out of his ass. Most of us managed to
keep him in check, but poor Todd was left wondering whether he hadn't
made a terrible, horrible mistake. In no time he was off the back on
every climb, and if you're at all familiar with 25A, you know it
resembles the back of a sea monster with its tongue stuck in a wall
socket.
The first part of the ride kept us on 25A for 11 miles, until we
finally turned off into much more pleasant — yet by no means less
challenging — secondary roads. At the turn-off we waited for Todd to
catch up, at which point he graciously urged us not to waste our ride
waiting up for him. In the end he bravely followed the route on his
own for part of the way and headed back home on the south shore for a
very respectable 65 miler.
After surviving the early chill it was time to peel off our wind
shells and stuff them in our pockets. The rest of the day it was
perfect temps. The wind didn't really pick up until the second half of
the ride (but it was probably just our 180), and it wasn't anywhere as
strong as on the previous day.
I have to say, northern Suffolk has some beautiful roads for riding,
with relentless rollers, picturesque villages, generous water views,
lots of uninhabited woods and very little traffic to worry about. We
did keep returning to 25A a number of times for some short segments,
but it was never as busy as in Nassau. The route profile looks
uncannily like the business end of a lumberjack's saw blade, with a
few flats thrown in to break up the pattern just a little bit.
In Port Jeff we were treated to bagels, PB&J, courtesy of the entire
Dubya family. That is Mrs. Dubya and the four Dubya Jrs. We're lucky
to have them contributing so selflessly to our little club. After this
much appreciated snack, we climbed "the wall" out of PJ, definitely
the steepest piece of road for the day. OK, so I got dropped on that
one. Sue me. Still, I was able to recover every time and I was always
the fastest descender whenever I had enough room to get around
Locomotive. For that I credit mostly my aero tuck and my lack of
common sense.
Although, the initially planned route only added up to 95 miles,
Locomotive — who's been all over the island over his long and
illustrious career diagnosing property owners' woes with mold and
other building contaminants — was able to successfully improvise some
detours that added the required mileage to make it a full century.
Really nice parts too, not just junk miles.
We all felt great, rode well together and rode strong for most of the
route. We had the usual amount of gratuitous amusement poking fun at
each other's idiosyncrasies. We took one more break at the furthest
point in the day's route, in Wildwood State Park, outside of Wading
River, where a church group was having a picnic and group prayer. Then
we had one last break in PJ on the way back.
Finally, within the last 10 miles, some of us started fading in and
out. At first Locomotive started falling behind on the climbs on
account going too hard early on and due to cramping, but after
ingesting a large amount of antacids for their purported potassium
content (potassium from Kazakhstan, where they produce superior
potassium... Borat fans will get this) he made a full comeback toward
the end. Stitches had been one of the strongest climbers for most of
the ride, but he dropped out of sight for the last handful of miles.
By the time we were back in Huntington I was feeling like I was near
the end of my reserve and tapping into fumes. While Loco and Dubya
pulled ahead over the very last hill, I fell back a bit, but was able
to keep them more or less in sight (I was probably hallucinating) and
no more than a minute ahead. Stitches pulled into the parking lot only
a few minutes later.
We covered 103 miles of mostly well paved roads, averaged about 16.5
and finished off with more bagels, cream cheese and lox, courtesy of
Stitches. Definitely worth doing again, not just once a year, but two
or three for sure. Any buyers?
Next up at the keyboard: Big A and his account of the Triple Crown. I
still haven't gotten around to trying that one. I did once do with him
a popular winter trail ride way out east known as "The Death March."
Beast.
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