Category: Events

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5 Boro Tour Events Tips

Tips and Hints for Cycling the 5 Boro Tour

. . . or maybe for any big cycling tour.  I rode the 5 Boro for the first time this year. As a relatively new cyclist, and one who had never done such a formal (or big!) event, I learned some surprising things. Here’s a list, in no particular order, of things I want to remember, and that others might find useful, too:

  • If relying on pubic transportation in NYC, make sure you check subway service for the specific day you plan to travel. Events mostly occur on weekends, and weekends are when MTA shifts schedules around to do maintenance. Changes are usually posted in advance at stations, but may not be, or you may not see them, so double check online.
  • Plan for delays, not only on the way to an event, but during the event. Stuff happens. A half-hour or so into the 5 Boro I saw a stretcher and medics to my right, and, a little further along, a cyclist lying on the roadway, in a recently blocked-off protected area. Obviously, shortly after I passed, there was going to be a break in the tour to transport the fallen man. A couple of hours later, a different man had a heart attack on the Queensboro Bridge and died; the Tour was stopped for a half hour so that aid could be rendered, and he could be transported. Expect that the way may not always be clear, nor the road your own.
  • Train before you go, not just so that you can make it for 40 miles/64.3 km, but also so that you have practiced what to do if a cyclist rides too close to you, or stops without warning. Know how you need to ride, and brake, to keep a safe distance from other riders.  Do these things enough so that they become second nature, long before the event.
  • Know your personal hydration and fuel requirements, and adjust for weather. I was lucky enough to have had an object lesson in not paying attention to hydration/temperature requirements on a ride that stretched my abilities just before the 5 Boro. What I learned from a much more experienced cyclist (thanks again, Saul!) changed my thinking and made me consider these issues more seriously.
  • Pay close attention to your hydration for at least two days before an event. I heard one speaker at the Expo say that you want to see clear urine every time you look for those two days, and during the event. (Good luck checking at an event, but you get the idea.)  This is great advice; starting out with a well-hydrated body puts you ahead of the curve, both from a comfort level and healthwise.
  • Along the same lines, eat well at least for the last few days before an event. There’s no need to protein- or carb- load before a slow, recreational event like the 5 Boro, unless you plan to cycle it as if it’s a Tour de France, but living on potato chips and ice cream in the days leading up is probably not the best idea.
  • Never try any new foods, energy bars or gels, etc., at an event.  Take what you’re used to, and what works for you, given your expectations of the ride.
  • Have enough water and food-type fuel on hand, if possible, so that if rest stops run out, you’ll still make it through.
  • Roads cleared of motorists in a city like New York are not roads clear of pedestrians. Watch for people straying into the path of the Tour. There is no pedestrian as oblivious as a New York pedestrian bent on getting somewhere.  A man being dragged by two Golden Retrievers flopped in front of Basil and me completely unexpectedly; I saw people carrying large boxes and other cargo plunge directly into the hoard of Tour cyclists. Watch for these suicidal types to ensure that their death wish doesn’t become your homicide.
  • The views along the 5 Boro Tour are often breathtaking; don’t forget to watch the road.  The streets (and expressways) were amazingly clean, but, inevitably, water bottles fall from bikes and land in the path of cyclists; bolts come loose; tires blow.  There will be debris when you least expect it. Watch the road surface as much as you would on any other ride.
  • Watch for daredevils and idiots. They will be present. Avoid them. If you can’t, forget them as fast as you can; the day is meant to be fun. I was hit by a careless cyclist who bumped me sideways as he salmoned his way at high speed horizontally across the roadway — so he could ride all the way to the left, in the putative fast lane, with both hands in the air.  (He said “sorry” as he hit me.) I wasn’t thrown, but he’d come up so fast, and from such an odd direction, that I couldn’t have done much if he’d hit me harder, or at a different angle. I saw him just before he hit my handlebar as he flew by, and was able to steady Basil.  That was the only close call I experienced all day; for the most part, the people I rode near, every mile, were considerate and focused. But I was very glad I hadn’t been daydreaming when Mr. Reckless-and-Speedy hit me.
  • In crowds this big, and geographies this large, how you progress may have little to do with your abilities. Be prepared to stop when you may not want to, and to ride more slowly than you’d like. It’s the nature of the beast.
  • Next time, I’ll be mentally prepared for the cognitive dissonance of being told to ride the wrong way on city streets, and to blow through red lights. It took me nearly a half hour to adjust to this bit of Tour peculiarity.
  • Watch for trouble, in general. Those pedestrians mentioned above; an ambulance that has to get through even if there are thousands of bicyclists in the way, the marshals who have to narrow the course for whatever reason.  Bikes break; collisions occur. The unexpected will happen.
  • Watch the weather, and dress accordingly. If you normally wear street clothes, consider what 40 miles/64.3 km in a cute dress and thin underthings, or your favorite basketball shorts or jeans, may do to your anatomy. Try out any unfamiliar clothing long before your event, and make necessary accommodations.  Friends who run recommended Runner’s World’s What to Wear Tool; I used it to check my calculations for what I wore on the 5 Boro, since temperatures were going to be in what was, for me, a borderline range between tights and shorts.  It asks about gender and personal preferences, and, I felt, offers sound suggestions that are probably applicable to other cyclists’ needs, too.
  • I don’t have to point out that your bicycle should be in good working condition, recently tested on those practice rides you took, with working brakes, and with chain greased and tires inflated, right? (I didn’t think so!)

Did I miss anything?

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5 Boro Tour Events

We Ride the 5 Boro Tour

Cinco de Mayo, May 5th, was the date of 2013’s 5 Boro Tour: 40 miles/64.3 km through New York City’s five boroughs, ridden by approximately 32, 000 cyclists, of whom Basil and I were one.  (I am, after, One With My Brompton!).  I rode Basil to the subway station — on Manhattan streets for the first time.  (Sunday streets; they were deserted except for a friendly cab driver who smiled and gestured to show me he wouldn’t run me over.)

We got up at 5 AM — earlier than theoretically necessary — but missed the first train. This turned out to be a lucky break. It was a good thing that I’d taken seriously the event’s warnings to arrive early — the suggestion was to arrive up to an hour before our actual start time, and I’d allowed well more time than needed. Basil and I were in Blue — the first start, thanks to the number of miles we rack up each week — and our start time was 7:45 AM.  That’s Basil, above, just before we descended into the subway.  In May, it was light already, though just barely.

We were coming from Washington Heights, not terribly far from The Cloisters, so the ride would have been at least 40 minutes at best.  5 Boro riders number 1 (!) and 10, dressed in Giro d’Italia jerseys, joined us on the train, as did rider 62.  For reasons that mystified rider 62 and me, 1 and 10 got off three stops before the race start.

Rider 62 asked me what stop I was using.  “Canal Street”, I said. He was relieved . . . which was a serious mistake. The next thing we knew, the train was pulling into Metro Tech station. In Brooklyn.  Rider 62 looked at me again and said “Metro Tech?”, just as I was realizing that something had gone very, very wrong. The A train had skipped every stop below W 4th Street, because, you know, on weekends they can do that.

**Important Tip: don’t just type the day of the week into HOP STOP when confirming directions; type in the actual date.  HOP STOP gave me standard Sunday directions.  On 5 Boro day, with an early morning influx of 32,000 riders clogging the system, the MTA, in its infinite wisdom, changed the downtown A route.

We got off at Metro Tech with Rider 62, crossed over, and prepared to retrace our steps. Waiting on the platform was another 5 Boro rider — a resident of lower Manhattan, and therefore conversant with the MTA’s local changes — and she assured us that we’d all be able to get off on Canal Street, now that we were going uptown. And so we did. There was no mystery about where to go; volunteers were everywhere, and so were cyclists.

That’s the view in front of us (above) as we joined the crowd.  Very early, in spite of our little side trip to Brooklyn, we were blocks from the start line!  Below is the view behind:

People just kept pouring in.  We were only the first third of the cyclist waves: Red cyclists started 45 minutes later, and Silver 45 minutes after that. There were roughly 11,000 riders in each wave.

As the start time drew closer, things tightened up. You can’t really see it, but there’s a fine white line stretched from one side of the street to the other between the buildings, directly in the center of the picture. That’s the start line — blocks away!

A bunch of gobbledygook came over the loud speakers during the ten minutes before the start, none of which ws comprehensible until a voice sung out tinnily ” . . . the laaaand of the freeeeee” (line from the USA national anthem), and the crowd roared.

A few minutes later, we were on our way. At 1 mph/1.6 kmh! Feet on the ground . . . and then 3 mph/4.8 kmh, and then a whopping 6 mph/9.6 kmh . . . at which point I realized something significant: This ride was not going to be about speed.  It was particularly not going to be about my speed — how fast we went was going to be determined by a bunch of other factors, most of them irrelevant to whatever Basil and I were doing at any particular moment.

Soon we were leaving lower Manhattan and blasting up Sixth Avenue, where I got the first shock of the day:  Streets were closed to motorists, but not to pedestrians.  I figured this out when an older gent came tripping across in front of Basil, dragged along the street by two enthusiastic Golden Retrievers. The guy looked shell-shocked.  At other points ride marshals were gathering groups of pedestrians and stopping the Tour, crossing-guard style, but there were points all along where pedestrians were just obliviously stepping into the pack of riders.  I was glad I got the wake-up call early in the ride.  (No Golden Retrievers were hurt in the process.)

I didn’t take any photos at first, except for this shot of the RFK/Triborough Bridge from the Manhattan.  Getting oriented was plenty enough to occupy me, and it was surprisingly difficult to curb my natural tendency to stop at red lights and to ride the correct way down one-way streets . . . all of which were irrelevant on this ride.

The big disappointment of the Tour was not being allowed to stop on the bridges; this was an inevitable injunction, probably, as a result of last month’s bombing in Boston.  I took the photo above as the tour was beginning, and, once I had my bearings, snapped a couple others (below) before I realized that we weren’t supposed to stop.

We then rode up through Central Park, through Harlem, and headed into a tiny corner of the Bronx over the Madison Avenue Bridge.  Then it was back into Manhattan over the 3rd Avenue Bridge, onto the FDR.  It was verrrry strange to be cycling on the FDR, which is a massive, usually hugely  over-crowded, espressway.  Drivers on the other side, who were going the other way, sometimes honked and waved — in a friendly fashion — as the Tour passed on the closed portion.

Then we rode over the Queensboro Bridge into (naturally) Queens, northward, with a mandatory dismount at Astoria Park, before continuing south on to the Pulaski Bridge into Brooklyn, where we rode through Greenpoint and past Red Hook, and onto the BQE/Gowanus Expressway and then onto the Verrazano Bridge to Staten Island.

The mandatory dismount at Astoria Park was a surprise.  I had been warned not to stop at the first rest stop, since lines were likely to be terrible, but I didn’t need a stop there, nor at the next two. I’d started out well-hydrated, it was a cool day, and I was used to riding 20 miles or more without a stop. But it wasn’t possible to just continue cycling through the park. Basil and I just wanted to ride!

We were lucky, though, that we arrived just after 9:15, since all riders who had arrived earlier were held there until 9:15 while further streets were closed so that the Tour could continue.  We didn’t have to wait, and I did take advantage of the enforced walk to take pictures.

Two bridges connect to Astoria Park, neither of which we rode on. On is the RFK/Triborough (above), and the other is Hell Gate (below).

Hell Gate is a railroad bridge with excellent towers at each end, along with a very pretty arch spanning its length. Surprisingly pretty, considering that it’s Hell, and all.

Basil had had enough of this photo delay, but it was important to immortalize him, too, at the park.

We moved on quickly, into Brooklyn where a “Welcome to Brooklyn” sign greeted us as we crossed the Pulaski Bridge. The crowd had thinned out quite a bit by this time, probably thanks to all the rest and water stops that dotted the route. No one who was unprepared was likely to go thirsty or hungry on this Tour.

We entered Brooklyn at Greenpoint, and I rode by some streets which were quite familiar from previous visits to New York.  If I recall correctly, this is the only point at which I really noticed the wind — but not for long, as Basil and I were soon flying through Brooklyn, with very few other riders by our side along this stretch.

This may have been where I was restrained from taking  more pictures. Someone official (a marshal or security officer?) told me that, a little oddly, I could take pictures from the left side, but not at the right, where I had stopped. (That was particularly strange, since, naturally, anyone stopping or riding slowly is expected to keep to the right.)

It was a beautiful day. Some people claimed that it was too cool, but cool is best for rides. I was wearing shorts (with padded liners), a 5 Boro jersey, and a light jacket and was perfectly outfitted. I did unzip the jacked about halfway through, and ditched it altogether when Basil and I stopped at our one “rest” stop, nine miles from the finish.  There was plenty of clean, sparkling water available, but one had to hunt for it, since it was hidden at the back, far, far from the enormous Red Bull presentation at the entrance of the stop.

The city has been on a kick attempting to get residents to drink NYC water.  Maybe this is to reduce bottle litter? Anyway, NYC water tastes just fine to me, so I was happy to tank up.  I can’t even imagine doing a 40 mile/64.3 km ride on Red Bull.  (If you need it, maybe it would be better to train instead?)

There were plenty of snacks.  Fairway Market (oh, Fairway, how I long for you on my home turf!) supplied apples, Kind bars (“ingredients you can pronounce”) handed out their treats with abandon, and there were piles and piles of bananas, one of which I happily consumed on the spot.

There were views and not so many cyclists at this stop, which was about three-fourths of the way through the Tour.

The Brooklyn Bridge loomed in the distance:

Basil met a friend, the first raw lacquer Brompton that I’ve seen in person.  This is one handsome bicycle!

The other important business of this stop was the dreaded Port-A-Potty. No, I wasn’t dreading it for the reasons you might imagine.  Many years ago I used to backpack and camp, so I learned a long time ago how to deal with, ahem, interesting situations which require delicate operations where one might not want body parts touching unhygienic or unsavory flora or toilet seats.  No, that was not the concern.

The concern was Basil. As frequent readers of my blog know all-too-well, I quite boldly take Basil into just about every bathroom I encounter.  Port-A-Potties, however, have dimensions that challenge even a person of my relatively small size.  Either I was going to have to find an extra-wide cubicle — probably somewhere around — or I was going to have to leave Basil outside.  Gulp.

So that’s what I did. But I didn’t like it!  (And that was probably a world’s record in rapid toilet use.) I do think it was quite clear that Basil was waiting for someone. Had I heard anything untoward outside the door, I’d have been outside in a minute, modesty be damned. Must keep the priorities straight.

In the months leading up to the 5 Boro, almost everyone I talked to said that the bridges were tough because of the climbs.  At this point, we’d crossed 4 of the 5 bridges on the Tour and, really, they hadn’t been an issue.  Ahead, though, was the  über-dreaded Verrazano, cited specifically I think, by everyone I’d talked to.

But, you know, it wasn’t that bad.  The incline does go on forever, and I’m not saying it was a walk in the park — although I guess it could have been, since I do recall looking at my Garmin at one point and reading “2.3 mph/3.7 kmh”, so I could have been walking for a brief few moments.  And I did use first gear, although I’d never dropped lower than fourth anywhere else on the Tour.

I wonder how many people who do the 5 Boro ride city bikes and rarely use low gears?  It seems odd that so many people found the bridges so rough . . ..

Huge numbers of cyclists were stopped on the Verrazano, checking out the views. The “no stopping” rule was essentially unenforceable, once those kinds of numbers decided to engage in a little civil disobedience.

Even little old law-abiding me stopped for two seconds to get a couple of shots.  (Too fast to compose them well!)  Security was more of an issue this year than in past years, which made it even stranger that there were neither security nor marshals for quite a [literal]span here.  I assume they figured they had the bridge covered, and we had gone through security choke points along the way, with riders with non-compliant bags stopped as they went by.

The NYPD had us covered in the air.

Basil and I finished just before noon.  Well, that’s not technically true, since the “finish” line is at 37 miles/59.5 km or so; there was a “festival” at Fort Wadsworth, where we all, once again, dismounted, and were offered the opportunity to buy all sorts of things (food included) that we’d mostly seen at the Expo where we’d picked up our packets.

I took a very quick look around, and then we found out way out — but not until I’d bought an embroidered patch that will end up on a bag for Basil.  This was a ride to remember, and I think he’ll be pleased to have a souvenir on his gear.

On the way out, there was a sign pointing to an overlook. This seemed like a very welcome consolation prize for having not been able to fully enjoy the views from the Verrazano, so Basil and I detoured there.

OK, it’s a long bridge . . .

and it’s a high bridge!  And it was one fun bridge to ride! Normally, neither pedestrians nor cyclists are allowed across.

See the heads, just above the side of the lower deck? Those are more, ever more, 5 Boro cyclists, streaming over.  (The heads are the little blips between the lower rails and the single rail just above.  The road racers are leaning forward at an angle, as is their wont.)

Here’s Basil, beneath the Verrazano Bridge, having traversed it all the way:

Several people asked me to take their pictures at the lookout, which I was happy to do. The favor was returned:  Here are Basil and me, none-the-worse for wear, just about at the end of the 5 Boro Tour:

Is that a Brompton directly behind Basil?

Why yes, it is, a beautiful all-black M6 — not only that, but the fellow riding it identified himself as a reader of this blog — who would have imagined it?  (That was actually a pretty cool moment . . .. )

Then Basil and I returned to the Tour route to ride the remaining three miles to the Staten Island Ferry.

The line for the ferry was long, but the wait was only about twenty minutes.

I didn’t have any idea how much time the the ferry trip would take, and we were right at the exit doors, so I didn’t fold Basil all the way.  This ferry’s capacity, in humans, was 2,639, so carrying capacity, even with bicycles, was considerable.

Later, I moved Basil, and folded him partially.  As the aisles filled up, a fellow near me gave me his seat so that he could stay closer to the bikes he was watching.  We ended up in exactly the right spot to get this shot:

Then it was time to disembark. (Is every single person in this picture checking his phone?)

This was the scene behind us as walked down the ramp:

This is an absolutely fabulous experience, and anyone who has the slightest interest in travelling through New York on otherwise forbidden, inadvisable, or inaccessible roads and bridges should seriously consider doing the 5 Boro Tour.  The various waves are designed for all levels of cyclists; wave Silver included families and children, and the Tour offers suggestions for people who may want to ride only part way.

Actually, the 41 miles/65.9 km we rode wasn’t enough. I decided to cycle all the way “home”, back to Washington Heights (another 12.5 miles/20 km), instead of returning by subway– but that’s a post for another day.

Here’s Basil, though, on the 5th floor landing, back “home”, once we’d returned from the 5 Boro and the trip up the West Side Greenway:

This event turned out to be cream puff for me, though, and I owe that entirely to the experience I’ve gained while riding, only since last October, with the Bicycle Club of Philadelphia. Thanks to leaders like Tim C. and George, and experienced mentors like Saul and Mike, I’m used to riding 30 miles/48.2 km and more on a regular basis.  (Even if the most recent ride nearly knocked me out — sometimes you learn the most from mistakes.)

Admittedly, had the day been much hotter, or weather conditions terrible (it could happen) this would have been a much rougher ride, but the biggest surprise of the day was how ready I was for this particular challenge . . . bridges and all.  (Gotta love Brompton’s BWR — Brompton Wide Range — gearing, too!)

But anyone with some experience riding a bicycle can probably manage the 5 Boro — though maybe with a little walking here and there. And anyone can probably make it a great event with just a little focused preparation!  What a fantastic day this was!

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Events

Quick Note

Basil and I have just returned from New York, having spent the week there doing, among other things, the 5 Boro Tour.  Several of Basil’s most stalwart supporters have noted that I’ve yet to write up the experience . . . there will be one more irrelevant post while I stall for time tomorrow, but by Friday I should have vanquished Real Life sufficiently to have written a recap, which should post Friday morning. In the meantime, Basil and I beg our readers’ indulgence.  (Real Life; quelle horreur!)

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Events

On Our Way

Basil, the Brompton T bag, helmet, and 5 Boro acceptable fanny pack.  Gotta love that T bag: it’s filled with a week’s worth of clothes, whatever else I need that didn’t fit into the fanny pack, and my cycling gear.

By the time this post is published, Basil and I will have been in New York City for several days, getting ready to ride in the 5 Boro Tour — which is scheduled to happen the very day this shows up on Basil’s blog.

We’re thrilled, but trying to stay cool, like the big kids.  (Do big kids ride in the 5 Boro?  I guess we’ll know soon!)

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Clothing Events

5 Boro Tour Jersey

See what arrived just in time:

The 5 Boro Tour jersey!  Whoo-hoo! (A slightly lopsided vintage wire dressmaker’s form probably isn’t the perfect device for showing off a sleek jersey, but you get the idea.)

Look at those colors — could they be any better?  Highly visible, and Basil-compatible, both.

The date is imprinted on the back of the neck band.  I think that’s pretty cool, too.  On a practical note, I have to admit that the full-zip front is the best feature of all, since it will allow for easy ventilation during warm summer months (or on tour day, for that matter).

We’re packed and ready to go — Basil and I are, that is; Mr. Diarist will be holding down the fort while we’re gone — and eager for the big day.  What kind of experience will it be?  We’ll know soon.

(As a reminder, posts will continue automatically while Basil and I are off on our adventure, but response to comments may be delayed.)

 

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Events

5 Boro!

Basil and I are headed to New York City. We’re registered to ride in the 5 Boro Tour:  32,000 people riding through all five New York Boroughs on one (hopefully) glorious day!

Preparations have become a bit more complicated as a result of the events at the Boston Marathon: Participants aren’t allowed to use atandard hydration packs now, and backpacks and panniers are forbidden, along with bags larger than 420 cubic inches.  Fanny packs are allowed, but only those that meet the cubic inch requirements.

Garments shed during the ride can apparently be bungeed to a rear rack, but the new security requirements will be challenging.  As a Brompton, for example, Basil rests on his rear rack when folded — and his fold is his kickstand.  This will complicate matters if jacket(s) are attached to his rear rack.  And there will be jackets:  We’ll leave the NYC apartment where we stay at 5:30 AM and expect at least a 10 degree temperature spread on the day of the ride.

There’s an ongoing Q & A on the tour’s security page.  Aside from its utility value, it’s turning out to be a fascinating overview of cycling luggage and gear.  The moderator (and arbiter), amusingly, supplies an admiring opinion or two while fielding queries.

I’ll be living out of the Brompton T bag for the week — into which I’ll need to pack “civilian” clothes as well as biking gear.  That will be the first challenge of our 5 Boro Tour.

Posts on The Brompton Diaries will go up automatically (and won’t have anything to do with the 5 Boro while we’re gone), and there may be a lag in responses to comments, as I’ll be traveling only with a tablet, and may not have either the time or wherewithal to use it much.  However our adventure goes, I’ll be reporting in upon our return.  All five New York City boroughs, by cycle, in one day?  How could I pass it up?

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Events

Progressive V: Collegeville

I was dubious about this progressive ride:  I had only done 46 miles/74 km of the previous week’s planned 55/88.5, and another week of poor sleep suggested that I might not be ready for 60 miles/96.5 km of bicycling.  A 20 mile/32.1 km ride often seems insufficient to me; 35/56.3 is no problem, and 46/74 was great, but perhaps beginning to test my limits.

The day couldn’t have been more perfect, though.  I took this picture at 9 AM; it was cool, crisp and sunny, eventually evolving into crisp, sunny, and almost warm.

We rode from the Azalea Garden behind the Philadelphia Art Museum to the Collegeville Diner, and back again.  Saul and Mike and a crew riding with them joined us in Manayunk, rode along amiably, and then variously went on their ways elsewhere.

The bikes in question (except Basil, who was tucked under the table inside).  We weren’t the only cyclists at the diner; the early spring weather had brought out cyclists galore, even at the diner.

We lost one rider to a wrong turn, after which she decided to head elsewhere, and one (this one, I’m afraid) was rescued from her own wrong turn by George (who was following) and Michael, who was sent out from the main party to find out what had happened.  Sigh.

Nine of us made it to the diner, which is clad with a silvery diner-appropriate exterior.  It’s humongous

and endowed with marvelous doors.

The diner was our mid-point destination, and we enjoyed a convivial repast before hitting the trail again.

All along the return trip, the speedier riders regularly re-grouped to meet up again with the slower ones.  I was one of those; I did pretty well until the last 12 miles/19.3 km or so, when I just couldn’t keep up the pace — which admittedly, was a little faster than as described for D rides.  I dropped to a true D pace, and was grateful for the company of a couple of other riders as I poked along at 10 mph/16 kmph instead of 13 mph/20.9 kmph.

I don’t know if it’s the club culture, or just the “culture” on these particular rides, but this is the nicest group of people ever.  My doubts, and my flagging speed, were met with encouragement and great confidence in the likelihood of all going well.  (Tom whipped past me at high speed a couple of times saying “I think I can, I think I can” which made me laugh, spurring me on in the best possible way.)

A friendly, positive attitude has been a component of every ride I’ve taken with the Bicycle Club of Philadelphia, which, unsurprisingly, just makes me want to ride more.  I go to some lengths to meet up with the club, and it’s more than worth the effort.

Basil and I had ridden 61.71 miles/99.3 km by the time we got back to 30th Street Station. He seemed pretty pleased with himself — he was in exactly the same shape as when we’d taken off, in  spite of having handled over sixty miles of roads, asphalt trails, and gravel beds along the way.  Does anything faze a Brompton?

I was half-dead, but so glad I’d done the ride.  Now I know something more about my riding abilities:  60 miles/96.5 km is probably too much to fully enjoy, at least at my current level of fitness, even in cool, cycling-perfect weather.  My optimal distance probably maxes out at about 45-50 miles/72.4-80.4 km).  We’ll see if that changes over the summer.

(Note: I just did the metric conversions for this post, and I’m dying a little bit here.  Point-seven-kilometers and Basil and I would have done a metric century.  Point-seven-kilometers!  If I had only known . . ..  Maybe I should be sprucing up those math skills, too. )

Categories
Events

Italian Fountain Century

So there was this quirky listing in the Philadelphia Bike Club calendar. I finally remembered to ask about it on the most recent Progressive.

In my defense, all winter long there were cyclists pacing the “fountain” ( (I was one of them, sometimes) trying to keep warm while waiting for  fellow riders to show up for a group ride. So this didn’t seem totally unlikely:

Level A, B, C, D, xyz, 12 mph, 100 miles. Meet at the Italian Fountain behind the Art Museum.  The ride leaves at 7:00 am.  85th/87th Anniversary, 3rd Annual Italian Fountain Century is again being held on April 1. An all new spectacular route this year, counter clockwise, which means the riders will have to count backwards.  The Fairmont Park Commission has issued a permit which forbids parking in the circle because the outer perimeter is one tenth of a mile where cars normally park. This will make for a car free route. There is a 1 cent per lap registration fee only payable in pennies which will be thrown into the fountain.  The Italian Fountain has been taken away for renovations so this event will be canceled if the Fountain is not restored and working by April 1.

And, in further defense, there are some pretty strange cycling events out there. It’s not as if I thought this was a real ride . . . I thought it was, perhaps, an eccentric excuse for a party for (how do I say this delicately?) eccentric bicyclists.  I asked about the vertigo component (kidding, I was kidding!), and ride leader Tim said something about medical sponsorship.  “Sponsored by Meclizine!” I chirped.

[Current state of the Italian Fountain.]

George, looking perfectly innocent, said that 1,000 bagels were going to be given away (one for each lap), but that this was a problem for the Jewish riders, since Passover won’t be over by the time of the event.  Sadly, this bit of information did not deter me sufficiently:  I was wracking my brain to recall if I’d seen, among the many faux-food Passover offerings, faux bagels made with matzoh, instead of leavening.

In typing the text of the listing, I see that my cursory perusal missed a few significant clues.  What, for instance, are xyz ride ratings? There’s the Anniversary/Annual discrepancy (could just be careless writing, right? The fountain may be older than the event, right? Right?)  And the counting backwards; just a little humor, right?  And pennies for registration?  It would be nuts, but it could happen, right?

The most critical bit of data that escaped me was the date.

Tim says that one person falls for this every year.  I’m sure glad I didn’t send an email to the ride leaders. That sort of thing just sticks around in the innerweb ethers forever!

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Events

Progressive IV: Phoenixville

After missing the BCP Progressive III, I nearly missed Progressive IV. At 5:45 AM, when my alarm went off, I’d had fewer than four hours sleep, thanks to having traveled the previous week, and some consequent major sleep disruptions.  I went back to sleep.

Mr. Diarist, a man who believes all things are possible, suggested, when I woke up for the second time, that he drive me to a point along the expected route, in the hope that I’d meet up with the progressive cyclists. Failing that, I’d at least get a good long ride in. He dropped me off just outside of Phoenixville, and I rode toward Philadelphia.

It was a beautiful day, but, in my inimitable style, I got lost, missed a turn, and ended up on the Perkiomen Trail.  Mr. Diarist got me straightened out, and within a quarter-mile or so, the gang and I spotted each other.  I was delighted to see those familiar faces, and quickly turned Basil around so that we could join the group.

We stopped at the Steel City coffeehouse, and went in for some well-earned (in all cases but mine) nourishment.  (Dark hot cocoa — yes!)  Everyone else had ridden roughly 25 miles/40.2 km at this point; the distance Basil and I had gone was considerably less, of course.

There were seven of us at the coffeehouse, most of us veterans of at least one other of these March progressives.

Our leader, Tim, proved himself utterly fearless when he leaped upon the stage and declaimed humorously, earning a nice round of applause and some appreciative catcalls. Naturally, I captured the moment for posterity; if Tim goes pro, though, I’m afraid he’s going to need a better photographer.

I’ve noticed that the rides tend to follow a much looser formation after the refreshment break.  I was grateful that three of us (one of whom knows the area well) agreed to stay with each other until we were back in the city, even when our pace didn’t match that of the others, who were variously faster or slower at times.

On the return trip, another latecomer joined the group, having had the same thought as Mr. Diarist, and rode back to Philadelphia with us.  As is usual, several of us split off as we got to the the city, and Tim said good-bye to the rest of us near the original meeting point.

Basil and I cycled to 30th Street Station, where I grabbed a bite to eat, and Basil tucked nicely in beneath a tiny table.  Then we caught a train home.  The view through the window featured the late afternoon light I love best.

This was an approximately 55 mile/88.5 ride for the others; Basil and I rode approximately 43 miles/69 km.

Oh, and Progressive III, the one I missed last week?  Tim, his eyes twinkling too mischievously, refused to tell me how it had gone.  The route, it turns out, had been switched on account of weather to IKEA (where there was food and shelter) from Betzwood in Valley Forge (where there was neither).

Tim insisted that I ask Nan, who shuddered visibly as she recalled the ride. Her report: a genuine snowstorm, hours ahead of the final prediction, when they entered IKEA, and actual sleet when they left.  That shudder spoke volumes.  Nan’s done more serious cycling than I’ve dreamed of; she’s no powderpuff.  If I had to miss a March progressive, apparently I picked the right one!

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Events

Progressive III: Philadelphia to Betzwood

We didn’t make it.  Weather reports leading up to Saturday were iffy, describing a mixture of rain and snow, possibly improving by 9 AM when the ride was scheduled to start.  Basil and I travel for nearly three hours before we meet up with our BCP fellow riders on these rides, though, and assessing the weather in the early morning (and several counties away) is an art I haven’t yet well-mastered.  In bowing out yesterday, I may have been too conservative.

Mr. Diarist and I went for coffee near the time the ride was winding up.  Conditions looked pretty good when we set out, but by the time we’d finished our drinks, fat wet flakes were falling, and the road surface was approaching lethal.

This slight dusting of delicate white stuff doesn’t look like much, does it?  (Though that poor tree looks as if it’s losing an awful lot of sap.  I missed that when I took the picture outside the coffee shop.)  We were sorry to miss the ride, and the companionship.  Happily, there will be other opportunities, and Progressive IV next week.