The Other Don Kelly

So, Friday night last weekend, we were at the Velodrome with John and Renee, when Renee says “Hey Don, I’m racing at Michaux this Sunday. Want to race the 10 mile course with John?” After a bit of waffling I said yes I’d join them, so last Sunday we rode out to Big Flat and did the Curse of Dark Hollow. (Later I found that Jon had no intentions of going, it wasn’t even on his radar until I said I’d go.)

It turned out to be the hottest day in a multi-day heat wave, temperatures in the high nineties. Standing around in direct sunlight was unbearable, but things were OK in the shade of the trees with a slight breeze blowing, while we waited for the start, and the race itself was fine.

Renee did the 20-mile course, and took off about a half hour before us, then John and I lined up at around 10:00. John rode hard from the start, but I really didn’t feel much killer instinct, even when I ended up towards the back of the “rumba line” of cyclists struggling through the first rocky singletrack. It was just good to be back on that Michaux stone, especially once the field spread out a bit and I could ride without interference. (I even saw a few Allegheny mound-builder hills.) Team Terrapin’s “start slow, then ease up” was my mantra, though I started pushing a bit later…

The last time I raced at Michaux (eight years ago?), I lined up next to a guy in my age group, who looked a bit like John Bolton and who seemed (at first) to just be an officious blowhard: he basically commandeered the race director’s speech, with “let’s thank the race promoters!” and “let’s hear it for the Vet racers!” and we all clapped dutifully, but then he started with some serious TMI about aging and his privates — “amirite fellas? Give a shout out!” — completely oblivious while the applause died away to an uncomfortable silence. He took off like a rocket when the race started, and that was the last I ever saw of him.

Until Sunday, and there he was! I recognized him first during registration, then he was lined up with us for our race. He started with the blowhard stuff again during the pre-race meeting, but the director shut him down (politely, but firmly). I could hear him shouting somewhere ahead of me in the first singletrack, likely berating riders that were in his way, and I caught up with him at the water station.

I had plenty of my own water so I didn’t spend much time at the stop, and I got out of there before he did. The next section was a 3-mile long climb on a Forest Service road, and while I don’t have the fitness I once did, I took this smooth hill as an advantage I could press against “TMI guy,” as I started calling him. Up the hill and back into the woods, where I was now dying and getting passed by people I dropped a while before, and then I got to the finish line. John beat me, but hey I beat TMI guy!

The promoters provided bag lunches, water and a keg of beer, and John and I hung out in the shade with other riders eating our lunches; Renee finished and joined us (she looked like death, which is probably how we looked a half hour earlier) and we stuck around for the awards ceremony — Renee took first place among the 20-mile women.

Anne and I went to Valley Vivaldi that night, and it was all I could do to stay awake…

Well, as it turns out, I didn’t take many pictures, but I do have some stories…

Joe (Anne’s brother) and I drove up Saturday, starting around 6:30 and arriving just about 3:30 at the cabin. Joe’s friends had already arrived, one carload early enough to go out for a ride, so us remaining four got ourselves together and hit the trails, which were literally right across the street.

We did a little riding around, entering the trail system at Coronary and doing the Troll Stroll, one of the nearby black-diamond downhills, then climbing up some steep doubletrack to our starting place, where we managed to connect with the other two members of our group. The six of us continued to explore that part of the system, bombing down several other, very similar trails — smooth, steep and swoopy, with banked turns and names all starting with a “T” — and looping back up to where we started. It was a blast, but those guys were all strong and fast, and it was a hard ride — we regrouped fairly often, but I had trouble keeping them in sight both uphill and down. We basically worked out all the kinks from our long drive, got in a day’s worth of riding and, when the afternoon started getting on we made our way back to the cabin.

This (Razzle’s Cabin) was perfect: it was cozy and compact, but it was also roomy enough for all of us — it said “sleeps five” but we packed six of us in there no problem — and it had a porch and a bike wash as well as an outdoor shower. It really was one of the nicest places I’ve stayed, and next time I go to the Northeast Kingdom I’m going to try and stay here again.

Dinner was in town. We ate outside, until it started to rain and we moved indoors. Back to the cabin and I at least slept the sleep of the dead. Our big ride day would start in the morning.

Sunday was a really nice day, and the trails were in great shape despite the overnight rain. In the morning we drove out to a new section and did two more gravity trails (Black Bear and Stormin’ Norman), earning our turns each time with a 700 foot doubletrack climb. (By the way, these two trails were the best trails we did all weekend.) We then went over to, climbed up to, and rode down Moose Alley — this was the trail I missed last time I was here in 2011, when I noticed my frame was cracked, after climbing to the top. All went well for this attempt, though after those earlier trails it was a bit of a disappointment.

Our parking place for Moose Alley was nowhere near the end of the trail, so we climbed up a jeep road to get back.

This was the only photo of us, taken by one of the guys after Moose Alley (and the jeep road climb) and before lunch, our next stop. We ate at the Tiki Bar in town, which is more like a pavilion or picnic area but it also had some food trucks. After lunch we went on a quest for Sidewinder, the legendary, ur-swoopy gravity trail.

We got a bit turned around looking for this one, but that meant we just rode more trails, and with the help of a few other riders we found the entrance. This was as fun as ever, but again I was a bit disappointed: Sidewinder is pretty hyped, and though it was fun it just seemed short, or smaller than I rememberd. (I later found out from other friends that they often do multiple laps on Sidewinder, to make it worthwhile. Live and learn.)

After Sidewinder we continued riding. I got separated, we met up again later and rode on, got semi-lost together, and eventually worked our way back to the cabin. Dinner downtown at the pub, then home and another deep sleep. Monday would be our last day.

We got up early and went back to the trail area with our new favorite trails, and though the other guys did a slightly longer ride, I basically did the same ride again: up, then down Black Bear, up again but only partway — they went to the top — and down Stormin’ Norman.

And with that our riding was over. We went back to the cabin, cleaned up, and hit the road by 11:00; I was home by 9:00. There was much group texting the next day, post-vacation work blues but I kept my mouth shut: Anne and I went blueberry picking Tuesday with Renee.

We went up to Jim Thorpe early Sunday morning, Anne and Donna to do a trail run and me to do a short MTB ride while they did it. We started at the lake, and I basically did a loop on the Switchback.

I was really hoping to catch a glimpse of some rhododendrons or mountain laurel in bloom, but I think it was a bit too late. No cicadas either, but I didn’t feel disappointed. Maybe it was the look of the trail surface — sandstone and dirt with reddish bark and pine needles — or maybe it was the particular environment I rode through, a certain combination of vegetation and soil that I associate with the Alleghenies, and the giant anthills of Allegheny mound-builders though I didn’t see any, and with rides at Michaux and West Virginia, but I felt a sense of nostalgia, of having come home again.

Anyway, the ride itself was fairly uneventful, if extremely pleasant: I went up the Switchback to the Upper Switchback, across the ledge over that RR tunnel/cave, took the Wagon Road back into town (I had trouble at that same spot I always have trouble, but rode it all better than usual) and finally climbed back up to the lake on the Switchback. I was done just about the same time as the ladies, and we drove off — we were home by about 11:30. What a way to start the day!

That evening was the Pennsylvania Sinfonia “Valley Vivaldi” concert in Allentown, and drinks with friends at Brew Works.

We (Anne and I, and Scott S) went in to Manayunk yesterday morning. We met Ben there, got some coffee/breakfast, and then lit out for Philadelphia proper via bike paths. This was part of a CAT investigation of bike lanes and similar infrastructure in nearby cities — Anne and others did New York last week — so, with Ben, and some maps provided by Scott, as our guides, we rode through a bunch of areas and neighborhoods: West Philly, South Philly, Center City, etc, trying the various bike lanes on for size.

We were meeting Sarah Clark Stuart (executive director of the Greater Philly Bike Coalition) in Center City, but we were early so we grabbed lunch at the diner inside Reading Terminal Market. After lunch we did laps around Market Street and JFK Boulevard, met with Sarah, and took the Schuylkill River Trail back to Manayunk.

We had a bit of trouble back in Manayunk: while we were out riding, someone hit our car in the trailhead parking lot. It was ugly, a smashed quarter panel, but there seemed to be no actual frame or mechanical damage, like to the radiator or whatever, and there was a police report with insurance information on the windshield so we just drove home — slowly — and are now dealing with insurance, estimates, and so on.

What did we learn? I have to digest my experiences, but I will say this: Philadelphia is a fun place to ride a bike.

Last week was a pretty good week for me: I managed over 100 miles total on the bike, and got in rides with Doug and also with Anne.

• I did a towpath “semi hot lap” ride on Monday.
• Wednesday I rode to the Museum and back, and then met Doug for another towpath ride.
• Saturday was another towpath ride, my first Trail Patrol ride of the year.
• Anne and I did a nice ride north of town, visiting Housenick Park and then riding out to Georgetown Road.

I also started using my HRM again, and some of those rides were done as training, or rather “training,” rides. This week has been cold (and rainy yesterday), so there’s been no riding, and I don’t think I’ll have the same miles. But spring is definitely here.

I went out XC skiing this morning — I noticed, on a little towpath hike yesterday, that the snow still seemed pretty decent, so I went to bed early and rose early with the plan, if the temperature was below freezing, to get in one more session.

I was not as early as I would have liked, but I managed to get out for about two hours on Ilick’s Mill recreation fields (behind the swimming pool) and the golf course, covering just over three miles.

Conditions were not the absolute best, but there was a lot of area still covered with snow, and a lot of the snow was still in pretty good shape; the skiing was actually pretty good, especially on the Ilick’s Mill side. There were multiple tracks already laid and crisscrossing each other, and I followed one track or another depending on what looked interesting. (I could see what looked like the same at the golf course, but the only tracks I found when I got there were goose tracks.) Since I expect this snow to be gone by tomorrow I didn’t want to stop, I wanted to see everything before I left even though my legs were getting tired, but conditions deteriorated as the sun, and temperature, climbed; I turned around when my skis started sticking.

This snow was the stuff that fell last weekend, which I’d thought was no good and only likely to get worse, but there was a cold snap this past week, and conditions were awesome when I got out Wednesday night. Go figure, O me of little faith…

This was at Lehigh University’s Goodman Campus, my first time there, night-skiing (also a first) with Renee. I’m sure I looked ridiculous, skiing along with a bicycle helmet (which is what my light mounts to), but I had fun. Besides, it was dark.

Now the sun is out, the temperature is in the mid 40’s, and tonight looks like rain — there may still be more snow this season, but the air has felt like spring for more than a week now, and I think that today was winter’s last hurrah.

By the way, this was me in Vermont, when we were out in “real winter,” with daytime temperatures in the single digits: