L & M Express to Suffer City

Believe it or not, just the name “Suffer City” was enough to lure me in. Plus the ride leaders, Denis and Cliff put together some great routes with lots of enjoyable climbing through some scenic settings at a time of year when I need to get out on my road bike and build up my leg strength and base endurance. What I really like is that although their rides are rated A/B*, the routes are truly A caliber routes. Being a women, who can not quite keep up with some of the speeds that men can crank out in the A rides, I really enjoy the same challenges offered in the A ride terrain, but at the B* pace.

Besides our leaders, our group consisted of Art, Willy, Marianne, Nate, Jim, Rob and myself. It was really cold off the start as we headed right into the wind and the sun had not quite come over the mountain yet. Luckily the pace was quick enough to keep me working overtime, and my fingers came back in about twenty minutes. The sun was with us all day long, which was perfect.

Our first climb was Tweed from 9W. I was warned ahead and was actually nervous, because I had never gone up it and was wondering if it was possible for my humble winter legs. The ramp is quite steep, and when descending it in the other direction, it can be very dicey in the winter when strewn with ice and piles of road salt. As soon as the ramp came into view, I knew it would not be a problem. The gradual climb on the top had surprisingly better views than in the other direction. Marianne and I climbed side by side, looking out over the Hudson River, and down on the Tappan Zee Bridge.

I like to build rather than blow up on the first climb, so I tempered my speed a bit, and absorbed the views, as I knew there would be plenty more climbing ahead. We continued north, and by this time, I realized that we were doing some of route reversed from last year. This would put the serious climbing in the first half, which could mean not quite as much suffering. Marianne and I hung in there pretty well climbing, always keeping someone in sight, or close to sight. I spotted some more great views that were missed in the other direction. Many of the climbs seemed harder this way, and I was able to embrace the climbs because they seemed new.

On the return home from Nyack, we had a very long stretch on 9W where we encountered many cyclists along the way. The terrain was more rolling, and the group split and merged many times. We picked up a few tag alongs, and traded pulls. I did a little more pulling and riding out of the draft, which I feel good about. Last year at the end of the ride, my legs were quivering and unable to even hang in the draft. This year my legs seemed much better. The ride ended up being 62 miles, and by the time I got home, my legs were just tired enough. Afterwards, on each trip up the stairs my legs talked back to me, but no harsh words. A good ride indeed.

Pictures taken a week and a half later on an abbreviated revisit solo ride up to Tweed.

Nirvana Day Ride

It felt great to be out today in 50 degree weather. It did not really matter that we got rained on for the first half hour and then one months worth of melted snow and road salt was getting splattered onto us for several hours. It just felt great to put all my energy into riding instead of trying to keep warm. As the snow receded, rivers of running water grew on the streets. Smiling cyclists were everywhere.



Todays ride had just as much to do with completing my old bike project as with logging some climbing miles on my legs. Finally the Team Fuji was complete with White Industries dos enos freewheel. The bike had been found under my sisiters deck and was in mint condition. The conversion consisted of pulling off some shifters and cogs, replacing the handlebar with a newer one I had in the parts bin at home, replacing tires and tubes with ones from my tire pile, and a new stem donated from a bike shop. I purchased two chainrings 40t and 42t, a freewheel cog, pink chainring bolts and some new bar tape, .... all under $150.



The warm temperatures created much excitement at the start of the ride, and I was already beginning to meditate on my lack of gears and cleansing of distracting gadgets. I had no computer, no heart-rate monitor, no clock, no gps, no shifters, and most importantly, no expectations. By the time I reached my first hill, I had already found my rhythm. While working in a pace line of fancy bikes and forcing some uphill surges, I came to my first enlightenment: It has less to do with the bike than you think. Riding a SS reminds me of what I am and what I CAN do, and that is usually more than I think I can.



Returning home on the back half of the ride, I felt so much better than I did last weekend. I noticed a few members of the group that began to tire and cramp. Familiar with that very same feeling myself, only a week before, I felt lucky to have that behind me already. The rhythm of the single-speed , helped flush out my legs with each little incline, and before I knew it, I was home with energy to spare. Maybe a bigger ride next weekend.

Winters Day

Gliding in the snow
Sun, moon and wind watch me play
On a winters day.

Following the Road the Plow Takes

It is inevitable that during some time of the winter, mountain biking comes to an end. I always hope for only a short time without, but sometimes, as mountain bikers we must look elsewhere to feel the wind on our face and get the satisfaction of a hard effort, all with giddy smiles. These feelings I do not often find in a spin class or on the trainer.

Looking out across the frozen iced over sea of snow, I knew the time had come. With temps rising close to 34, the plowed roads would be my safest choice, so as much as I love to ride up in the park, I decided to stay in suburbia. Art had just converted my sister's 1985 Team Fuji into a single-speed, and during the last few days, the new bar tape had been calling out to me for attention, so without hesitation, I grabbed the retro single-speed.

During the first few miles, I decided my gearing was too tedious and spun out. It was still set from my last hilly ride. I do not have the single-speed set up like a normal single-speed. It's what some refer to as a "dos". It has 2 chain ring and cog combinations of equal number of combined teeth and no derailleurs. So what I had to do to switch, was pull off the road and slide the rear wheel forward and manually change the gear combo. Thirty seconds and "viola", super soul rider is back up to speed and cruising with the taller gear.

Once I looked past the SUV's, dirty snow and piles of salt, it was quite nice to be out. I find the adventure of riding by myself to be energizing, and then throw in the discipline of one gear and I'm even more energized. I followed the road or wherever the snow and ice was not. Although much of my concentration was on avoiding potholes, cars and buses, I felt the wind on my face, and my heart pounded whenever I went uphill. I returned home sweaty like always, but with more energy than before. It was a good winter ride.

Ice Bike

With all the rain we had yesterday, I was a bit skeptical about riding when I received Marianne's email to ride. I had the afternoon off from work, and wanted to drop off some things at the park office, so I thought I would poke my head in and see how it was. What a surprise when I saw all the ice. The park employees were in the gardens taking pictures of the glittering branches and glazed plants. Driving straight into the sun, I had to stop the car to absorb all that I could see. It was spectacular.



Once dressed and ready to go, we were glad to still have our studded mountain bike tires on, because the ground was completely covered in shiny ice like a fancy french pastry. As we rode across the field trail, I couldn't help but smile with what my eyes could see. I could tell instantly that it was slippery, and I would need to be cautious with the brakes. I passed the odd green bamboo grove, which stood out against the winter palate, and they were all bowing down to me as if I were queen. Perhaps I was, riding on top of the ice like a super hero.



There were lots of ooh's and aah's mixed with yikes and uh-oh ...holy craps! Needless to say the trails were pretty tricky, so we opted for gentler grades. We got into a good groove climbing up to Pierson Ridge, but the way down was insane. Hunters trucks had made ruts combined with snow drifts and all iced and frozen solid. I managed to keep it upright, but Willy went down pretty hard. It was his first day with the studded tires, so maybe he needed to figure out his boundaries with them.



Overall it was a fantastic time, and quite unexpected. You never know exactly what you will get out in the woods, but sometimes the adventure of surprise is half the fun. Don't let the excuses keep you home. Get out and ride!

Christmas in Southern Appalachia

While tiny tots lay in bed dreaming of a white Christmas, Art and I dragged ourselves out of bed on Christmas morning at 3:45 a.m. to start our journey south to the land of verdant Christmas. I gave a little nod to the five-foot snowman on the neighbor’s lawn, knowing that he may be just a memory when I make it back to New Jersey again. Slipping away unnoticed in the darkness at the start of this 12 hour journey, but as the sun rose, we spotted other traveling souls on the road …. some in cars filled with gifts and some wearing Santa hats.



The Appalacian mountains greeted us with a welcoming 58 degrees and a beautiful sunny sky above. Although with a close look into the woods, I could see moisture weeping out in every tiny gap. This was a sure tell tale of the weather that lay ahead, and as expected, the next few days would bring rain and mist that make these mountains what they are: “The Smokey Mountains”.



After a combination of cabin fever and an optimistic moment in the sky, we saddled up for a bike ride from the in-law’s house, where country dirt roads wound around the mountains. Within minutes and a wrap around the first mountain, we rode into a misting rain, but around the next curve, we warmed up with the first real climb in the forest, and soon the mist was forgotten.



The rhododendron along this stretch were probably the tallest I have ever seen, and once we reached a certain elevation, the sides of the road were lined with galax. Around every bend, crevasses wept and you could hear falling water. A few breaks in the foliage offered views of glassy top mountains in the fog.



After about five miles, we reached Panthertown National Forest. The trails seemed to be in good shape regardless of the rain, so we rode them as well. We visited a waterfall and some single-track, and then started heading back. The ride was short, but enough to stretch our legs and have a brief moment to commune with nature and be outdoors.



With only a few days to this trip, and a visit long overdue, we spent most of the weekend visiting with Art’s family. It was a good time for all, and a very Merry Christmas.

Christmas Snow in NJ

Friday the snow fell, and I sat at the computer, with the frustrating thought of not being able to ride my bike. I heard some laughter, and when I went to the window, the neighbor’s daughter lay in the snow, arms and legs flapping. She made the shape of a tiny purple angel. It looked so simple and she so happy. There is something special about snow near Christmas…. kids making snowmen and snow angels, smiles and laughter are in the air. When and how did I loose that feeling inside me?

Sunday morning I was headed back up to Harriman for another XC Ski with my cycling buddies, that I secretly call “Team AARP Extreme”. The weather was not looking great, as the snow had turned to rain by the time we left the house. Half way up, it turned back to snow. I was half expecting an abbreviated ski, but I don’t call these guys extreme for nothing. They know how to ride with what’s thrown at them and make something good of it, and so snow fun is what we were going to find.

Starting in warmer than expected temps, the guys called a re-wax. Now dealing with some sticking, we forged up hill to where we found better snow. Temps were dropping and the snow was falling hard. Gliding along, it was beautiful indeed. At one point it was snowing hard and became dark and ominous, but yet silent with only the sound of my breath. Each cold crystal against my face reminded me of being alive, and gave me strength to forge on.

Before we got back, the sun peeked out and I found myself striding in rhythm with my shadow. Down the long hill with the sun on my cheek, I was smiling inside. I ducked under the last log and found myself gliding right into the sun down a tunnel of pricker bushes. The ski tracks caught the glimmer of the afternoon sun like a pair of ribbons. The bushes sparkled like Christmas trees. It was a magical sight and made me feel more like five than fifty. It was a perfect ending to a pre-Christmas ski.

Sussex County Cycle Cross - NJ State Championship

Cross racing has always been one of those things that sounds interesting but comes at the wrong time of year for me. Just as cross season arrives, I am looking to take a break from racing and to catch up with things off the bike. This year, things went a little different for me with my mid season Lyme taper. I guess the reason doesn’t really matter. Thanksgiving weekend arrived, Laura was racing and I felt ready to chase zebras.

Now, I did not have a cross bike, nor did I want to spend any money on this whim, so I chose Cheetah, my only geared hard tail mountain bike. Being my trail maintenance bike, and only being ridden a few times since cobbled together after I saved her from the dumpster and painted her, she got a minor tune up and 1.8 tires installed. Putting the tires on may have been a waste of time, as they became 2.0 mud slicks before I got to the start line.

My first lap was pretty bad, having to get off a few times, as I slid into the tape. The cross mentality does not mesh with my thinking, as I resisted the getting off part. And when you see me run or try to mount, you understand why I am on a bike and not on foot. I was in last place for most the first lap. As soon as I would catch up to someone, I would mess up. Finally, near the end of the lap, I caught my first chipmunk. Yes, a little kid, that I almost felt guilty passing, so I offered him some encouraging words and looked ahead for zebras.

Slowly, my riding became smoother and I started to pick off some zebras. The intensity was awesome, just like short track. I never turned my heart rate monitor on, but I felt like I was working hard. The lake and the sand were usually my best sections, thanks to “big daddy” for the cheering on the mic. I was just short of being gassed coming across the finish line at the end, as I was being chased down by another competitor. What a perfect end to the race! The whole thing went by pretty quickly, and seemed to be just the right amount of time to be out there.

My teammate Laura, who is racing in her first season, did awesome, and ended up winning. I was hoping she would win, and this was one of the reasons I came to the race anyway. So we hung around for results and to get a Campmor podium picture. I assumed I finished somewhere between 8th and 10th. What a surprise when I saw that I finished 5th overall and 2nd in the state championship.

So I guess I survived my first cross experience, and it was pretty fun and a great work out! As I enter into a time in my life where I begin to coast more, it felt great to rev the engines up. It's about time, as I probably had not done this since Mt Snow in July. .....Still, I would rather go mountain biking most the time, but it’s a nice excuse to go hard. I'm not too good at it, so if I do it again, I may need to practice mounting, and invest in some tires. There's a good chance cheetah and I will come out again next year and chase zebras.

A New Day

Nov 4 - I woke up the same as every other morning, but this day would stand out against others. After breakfast I would be my usual green self and walk to the polls like I do every other year on Election Day. Over the last eight years, I have not only doubted the administration, but I have doubted the people in this country for putting that administration in office. Since I believe that negativity begins from within, I have wrestled with the mere thought of having these doubts. Later that night, I finally put those doubts to rest and began to look ahead with hopeful eyes.

Ringwood Still Glowing in Color

A vine reaching for the sky, takes help from a tree.


Fading maiden hair fern against a vibrant forest floor.



After some well needed rain, another beautiful day comes our way, and the woods at Ringwood are alive in color. This has been a wonderful year for color in these parts. Besides people out enjoying the day, I came across two snakes out for one last romp and few turtles basking in the sun on top the pond rocks. We all enjoy these days.