I know it's been a long time since I posted and I kept meaning to, but it's hard to ride and write at the same time. This year I was sent to a training camp in Arizona and i'll tell you about that sometime soon if you bug me. But here is the latest adventure, I thought you might enjoy it.

Clifton to Philadelphia and all points in between
Sunday, 6:30am. I met Liong in Clifton at the train station under drizzly skies.

We checked over our gear and thinned it. One pump, one multi-tool between us was sufficient so we weren't carrying unnecessary weight. Living dangerously, we took one tube and a couple co2 cartridges and a patch kit just in case. We roll out through Clifton and into Paterson on some of the most horrible roads I've ever ridden on. In light mist and scattered showers we ride up past Garret Mountain, over the gentle side of the Preakness range and back into Wayne(around 8 miles from my house).

We took 202 into Boonton where lost it briefly. The trouble with following old county roads is lack of signs for the many turns and we encountered that problem a couple of times. I have a vague idea that Morris Ave connects back to 202 but I'm not positive. Fortunately, Liong is not the typical male and was quick to ask for directions. Maybe because he knows the penalty for error is pretty big on a bike. He goes into a paper shop and I see him through the window talking to a customer. After a bit they both walk back out. The guy heads towards his truck still talking with Liong and commenting on our bikes and asks us where we're headed. When we tell him he says, "Oh, Princeton." When we corrected him I wish I had a camera to catch the moment. His eyes bulged like a pair of fried eggs slapped on his face as he said, "PHILADELPHIA!!!!??... Well, good luck with that." God, his face was priceless and I swear I laughed about it for at least the next mile. Most people can't fathom going 10 miles on a bike and that's rally funny from our perspective..

We zipped along through East Hanover and Parsippany and Morris Plains where Liong hands me an egg and starts to crack one for himself on his hoods. As I'm cracking mine I'm just hoping it's not one of those crazy Asian eggs with a hard-boiled chick inside. I wouldn't want to offend him by not accepting his gift but I really don't want to try one of those things. Luckily, it was just a regular one and we left our trail of eggshells to find our way home as we passed Marty's Reliable and waved to nobody.

No more stats
My Garmin crapped out somewhere past Bernardsville. I had charged it overnight but it just turned off for no reason. It's three years old and I knew it had issues so I bought a refurb before the Arizona trip but at three months old, it fell out of my jersey, hit the cement floor and broke the screen, hence me using the old one today. Anyway, I could still get distance and speed from Liong's unit but I really wanted to record heart rate activity because that would tell me everything I wanted to know. Oh well, I guess I can add 20 points to all of his numbers to get mine since I was working my butt off to keep up with him. We hit a good section of rain and I have no idea how long it actually lasted but my hair was soaked into spiral curls that dripped onto my legs. I figure it must have been a good deal of sweat too, because Liong's hair was strangely dry.

We knew the weather was iffy as reports called for 40% chance of rain throughout the day and a good chance of thunderstorms in Philly. Now, 40% chance of rain could mean anything from constant downpours to no rain at all so we took a gamble. It paid off with heavy overcast skies, moderate temps and a pretty consistent european-esqe mist - absolutely perfect for cycling. No sunscreen needed and the mist is just lovely for the complexion.

We rode past round valley and stopped for lunch at a chinese place outside Flemington. The food was good. Liong seems to be able to eat absolutely anything but I've got to be careful with food if I'm riding. I'm best off on a liquid diet because I seem to process food differently but I didn't have a chance to make my homemade gel.
Isn't lunch pretty?

It was an innocuous meal for my stomach without setting Liong up for the 'after lunch' shot somewhere along route 523(we know how he likes to take shots of messes in the road ). In fact I don't remember where, but we stopped when a huge groundhog waddled onto the road in front of us and stood in his tracks to check us out. I don't know if it's good or bad to have a groundhog size you up, but I said, "Liong, take a picture." He just didn't get it out in time and I really think that's why he posts photos of roadkill, they're the only things that sit still long enough for him to get his camera out.

Do you feel what I feel?
I don't remember where it was, but I think we rode through the gates of roadie heaven as there was just this amazing feeling of perfection as we rode along on a smooth road in lush settings with cool temps and no traffic and it was just ethereal. It was pure joy. Liong felt it too and commented that he wished he took the road bike plunge years ago. It was glorious and we whooped it up in appreciation to the spirit that was protecting us, it being Sunday and all.


We saw other moving animals: a red fox bounding through a field, a gaggle of turkey buzzards eyeing us from the roadside, horses, cows, billy goats(baaaaa!) and bison... bison!? Yep, tons of buffalo. Calves and adults. I've seen a few of them in a zoo here and there but nothing like this. There were near a hundred head, if not more and they freaked out and ran away from the fence where they were grazing as we whizzed by on our bikes. It was cool to hear the thundering of hooves and think of what it might have been like way back when...




Beasts of a different kind
Oh, and somewhere along the way we had stopped for something or other and sneaking around a corner, we caught sight of a Jaguar. Then a couple Lambourghinis, a Ferrari, a couple Maseratis, a Lotus and Porche, Porche, Porches, each gave us a little show as it came to a stop and turned the corner. This must be a group ride for the "Men with Way Too Much Money" club but we appreciated the parade of at least 30 cars.

There were so many surprises along the way and the scenery was just fabulous through most of our trip. Roads were lined with wild roses and huneysuckle and their air wafted across the road. Gardens were heavy with peonies and iris and all manner of showy flowers. and it was all here just for us. So many people have no idea what Jersey has to offer beyond the Jersey City refineries and the turnpike. It's such a shame we've got a bad rap, but we've really got everything at our fingertips in this state. You just have to look for it.

Halfway
We hit the bridge and walked across into Pennsylvania. We're halfway to Philly. We stopped mid bridge for a couple shots and looked a little closer at the surroundings. In the river below three guys sat in an open boat with an outboard motor. They had thrown an impressively large anchor to keep them from drifting in the current and sat fishing and drinking beer and smoking what was clearly not your typical cigarette. It may have been their ultimate way to spend a Sunday but I wouldn't trade places with them for anything.


On the PA side, ancient covered barges sat decaying in the remnants of a canal. Imagine their heyday and the gentleness of the time. Across the bridge was a small ice cream and burger joint and we stopped for a bit. We drew some attention there.

Waiting in line for the bathroom, two little girls in front of me wearing pink sundresses and covered in chocolate 'makeup' stared with wide eyes obviously filled with questions. I started the conversation, "Hi. Did you have ice cream?" They bubbled over like shaken sodas. The oldest may have been eight or nine and asked how far we rode. When I said, "From Clifton, NJ", their eyes grew even wider. When I told them we'd probably ride 120 miles today their eyes grew even wider and the mom chimed in with good wishes. and they told me how they like to ride their bikes. I asked if they might like to ride that far someday and they vigorously nodded yes. It was pretty cool being a celebrity for five minutes. It would be even cooler if meeting them set a spark in those girls that would lead them to the freedom of riding and the same strengths and challenges and joyful independence that my cycling gives me.

Are you nuts?
Back at the front, a man circled around our bikes and commented about Liong's mean new machine. His conversation led to how much a bike like that costs and he said, "Are you crazy!?" I just laughed. (Yep. He's the crazy Asian and I'm a Cyclopath, and here we are riding 120 miles today on bikes that cost more than some cars we passed, so I guess that makes us both crazy.) Liong commented that mine was worth more than his and that neither were even close to the $15,000 realm of some pro bikes and that it works itself out when you ride as much as we do. The man wandered off in bewilderment as I chuckled and chuckled. I used to think the price tag was crazy too but the reality check in how much I've paid for a quality guitar and the payback you get in performance for that difference really makes it logical.

Back on the road we pass through New Hope and Liong is taken in by it's artsy vibe and culture. He vows to bring his wife out there to visit. She loves to window shop and there's no better place than here for a taste of everything you could want.

Share the road
Wow, the difference in the drivers out here is striking. I noticed pretty quickly that nearly every car that passed us crossed the center line to give us extra space even when we really didn't need it. You could hear the cars hit the rumble strip behind you and you knew that they weren't a threat to your safety. Not that we had any problems in the 60 miles we laid down so far, but it was a new and refreshing mentality that cyclists were accepted and protected rather than means for random target practice.

And on
More spectacular roads, more climbs that were beating me down and Liong gives me pointers on how I should spin more to climb faster. I explain briefly about how I survive with different techniques on different hills and how inertia has a big part in the equation of my climbing and then I say, "You, Mr. Single Speeder on a week old road bike are telling me how to climb?" Just shut up, Liong, and tuck in behind me quick at the crest or I'll leave you in the dust. He remarks about how I am like a cannon ball on the downhills(though I prefer the imagery of being more like a torpedo). I drop him with ease and on the umpteenth drop, I look over my shoulder and see him right there. I smile as he's figured out how to jump in on my slipstream and come along for the ride. I say, "That's how you do it, Son!" I'm having so much fun playing with Liong and his new toy.



Church
We stop and wander the manicured grounds of the commanding Bryn Athyn Cathedral, a national landmark, and look around the building. Doors are locked but peeking in, it's awesome with stained glass windows towering almost to the lofty ceiling. The beauty and craftsmanship are boggling. It was obviously built with a lot of love and devotion. I offer a prayer of thanks for our safe passage.


Biketopia?
We hit the outskirts of Philly and Liong says we've got 20-30 miles to go. I ask him, "Are you sure?". We pass a train station and he, straight faced, offers to end the ride if I've had enough. I look at him like he's got two heads, "No way in hell! I'm finishing this thing with you or without you. "

It's more urban here and the switch between open country to this is a matter of a mile or so. Though urban, it's strikingly clean and maintained(I know we're not in Paterson anymore, Toto.) with a BIKE LANE painted all along the street. There are signs all over to yield to cyclists even at ramps where NJ drivers typically speed up to get around you, here they stop and wait even if you're a hundred feet back. NICE! I imagine they don't have the same venomous dialogue about sharing the road as we do around here. To them, sharing the road is a given.

We are passed by a school bus of kids who are cheering, smiling and waving at us as we rip along.... "Spectators cheer as the peloton enters the final 15 kilometers!!" We play cat and mouse for a bit until it gets away and the kids set their sights on other games.

The final stretch
Our street turns O Ne way("That's one way, Barney!") and Liong asks some pedestrians which way to downtown. He points left and we see the skyline. I remark how it's right here and the man says, "No, it's way down there.". Well, in relation...

We trot towards the city pausing at stop lights. There's Ben looking out over the city, waiting to greet us.
I put my fist out to Liong. We did it. We rock.


People have been friendly and courteous and the drivers respectful all the way here except for a man on the street who spit at Liong as we rode by. It took us 116 miles to encounter our first idiot... that's pretty damned good, I think. We laughed at the fool because he didn't even come close to hitting Liong. Shoot, either one of us could send a snot rocket farther than that.


And back
We ride around touring amid multitudes of hipsters on fixies and cruisers locked to U bars at every corner and grab some dinner. Eventually, we make our way to the train station on 30th and Market. It's a cavernous building and the clicking of my hubs sounds cool in echo. I think we both planned on napping on the train home since, when we compared notes, neither of us had more than 4 1/2 hours sleep the night before we did this amazing tour, but we didn't. We talked all the way back. I've had a fabulous day. I've beat the crap out of myself and spent all of me and I still feel good.(Ha! We sang that as we cruised into Philly. We have to transfer twice and on the last train back, I sign to Liong, - I love my bike-, and I rest my chin on the seat. Sweet, sweet bike.

In Secaucus, our train arrives at 10:20, just minutes after the train leaves for Clifton. The next one is 11:49 pm. Instead of waiting we take the train to Garfield and ride the 4 miles back to the Clifton station through quiet city streets barely lit in neon and streetlights with an "After Hours" cult like feel. The swish, swish, swish of our tires echoes off the quiet buildings. Liong has obviously done this before but this is my first night ride since I was 19 and it is the perfect topper to an odyssey of a day. As we zip along the slight grade, he asks me where I'm getting all my energy from. I say, "This isn't energy, Son, this is downhill advantage.". A bit after 11 pm, we're back at my car. Liong tells me to give his apologies to Chris for keeping me so long and I tell him to hug his wife for me and to thank her for sharing him. She is a very generous woman and though I've not met her yet, she is very dear to me.

The tallies:
124 miles(Liong gets an extra 4 for commuting to and from the Clifton station), many thousands of calories burned, ZERO flats, innumerable smiles and laughs and memories and one of the best days I've ever spent on a bike. Another riding buddy warned me that we'd hate each other at the end of this tour but he was so very wrong. I appreciate Liong now more than ever for his kind, gentle, accepting spirit and joy of life, not to mention his twisted sense of humor. We may have come from different worlds but we share a spirit, a sport and a love of adventure. We didn't break any speed records because we took the time to enjoy the journey and just have fun riding our bikes.

Remember when you were a kid and you wished you could just ride your bike down the street, across the tracks, through the town and just keep going and going forever? That's what I did today. And I was so fortunate to have done it all with Liong, who used to be my friend but is now truly my brother.