(Skip to the bottom to view ride statistics)
The first question most people ask me is… What is a metric
quarter millennium? So let me start by
answering that question. A metric
quarter millennium is a one-day bicycle ride of 250 kilometers or more
(155.3428 miles or more for those of you who prefer British units). That’s an easy question. The one that follows closely, why the hell
would you want to do that? now that question is a
tougher one to answer…
It’s not because I have to prove something to myself or
anyone else. It’s not to impress anyone
or anything like that. I think it boils
down to one simple thing. I am
completely addicted to cycling, and I’m completely addicted to the challenge of
going above and beyond what I’ve previously accomplished. I have this personality trait that requires
me to be addicted to something at all times.
Early in my life it was basketball, later it was billiards, and then
volleyball, and in between there were a few other addictions, including some
I’m not very proud of. But if there is
such a thing as a healthy addiction, this has to be about as close as it
gets. Cycling has helped me lose weight
(approximately 70 lb.) and improve my fitness, and gives me a better chance to
be above ground long enough to see my kids accomplish similar feats.
This feat started at 5:35 AM on July 19th from
the Gore/Amesil plant parking lot in Oak
Ridge, New Jersey, the
plant at which I’ve been working for the past year and a half. As the sun began to rise, I took a lap or two
around the parking lot just to make sure everything was in order. The bike felt good, I felt good, and I was
ready to go. As I pulled to the top of
the driveway, I noted the time on my cycle computer, 5:34. I waited until the time struck 5:35. I reset my cycle computer and my GPS, and
pulled out onto Oak Ridge Road. This first portion of my ride would be
similar to my many training rides of the days and weeks before. Although on this day I would be riding it 2
or 3 mph slower to conserve energy.
Riding these first few miles in this fashion felt like riding without a
chain. I breezed down Oak Ridge Road, and as I passed by the
Lakeland Bank, I noted the time and temperature. It was 76 degrees at 5:43 AM. As I turned right onto Ridge Road, I thought about the temperature
rising another 20 degrees by the time I reached the midpoint of this ride. I can handle that I thought to myself.
In a few more miles I was climbing Mount Sparta. This was a climb of a mile or so at about an
8% gradient. Again, a portion of the
ride I was very familiar with. And
again, I felt more than comfortable as I cruised up the mountain in a middle
gear. After reaching the summit it’s
mostly downhill until the town of Ogdensburg
is reached. As I reached the
intersection of Route 517, I deviated from my typical training ride by turning
left rather than right. However, I was
still in familiar territory. To this
point I still hadn’t unclipped even once.
The first time unclipping was in Andover
at a traffic light nearly 20 miles into the ride. After passing through Andover, I reached the first flat portion of
ride, one of the few flat sections of road I’d be riding on this day. This stretch was only 5 or 6 miles, but this
flat wide open road gave me an opportunity to ride in a time trial style
position. I was riding at 18-20 mph, but
still not pushing it. I was simply
taking advantage of a more aerodynamic position to push my average speed up to about
15 mph.
At the end of this flat section was Allamuchy Mountain. This was a 2 mile climb at about 5%. Nothing big, but I still used my granny gear
to conserve energy. After cresting this
mountain, it was mostly downhill with a lot of free wheeling until I reached Hacketstown. It was
on the city streets of Hacketstown that I had the
most unpleasant experience of the ride.
If you are reading this blog during your lunch
hour you may want to skip the rest of this paragraph. As I cruised down Mountain
Ave through the downtown area, I passed fresh roadkill;
it looked like a groundhog, but could have easily been an unlucky coon or even
a small dog. A car came behind me
exactly at this point and as it passed me it passed over the roadkill, and all
I heard was the most disgusting “splat” I ever heard in my life. I’m not sure if my left leg was struck by any
projectile bits of roadkill or not, but I wasn’t about to look. I kept my eyes looking at the road straight
in front of me and turned my thoughts to happier times. Looking back, there could have been worse
incidents (a flat tire, broken chain, a crash, etc.) so I thank my lucky stars
that this was the worst experience of my ride.
On the south side of Hacketstown,
at mile 32, I made my first rest stop.
Unsure of where I could stop next, I pulled over at a Quickchek for some water and Gatorade and a 10 or so minute
rest. After that it was back on the bike
and a return to rolling terrain. The
miles went quick in the morning, and before I knew it, I had reached the Pennsylvania border, and was
approaching mile 60. The bridge taking
me across the Delaware River into Riegelsville
was an iron grated bridge with a sign indicating that bicycles needed to be
walked across. Getting off my bike to
walk for a few minutes was a welcome break.
After crossing the bridge, I rode through the small village of Riegelsville
looking for a convenience store. The
best thing I could find was a general store which was a mix between a coffee shop
and a mini-mart. The freshly baked
oatmeal cookies looked good, so I grabbed one along with more water and
Gatorade. The time was approaching 10
AM, and this was the point I had promised my wife Cindy that I would call to
check in. I grabbed my cell phone from
my bike bag and was ready to call, but couldn’t due to the lack of signal. The reason why was obvious. I was in a deep river valley in a largely
unpopulated area. Knowing Cindy would be
concerned about me if I didn’t call soon; I remounted to continue my trek.
As I headed south on Route 611, I was entering the only
stretch I hadn’t previewed by car earlier in the year. I never found a convenient time to drive this
stretch and I figured it was a low risk area.
Route 611 was a little busier than I predicted it would be, but there
were no surprises in this stretch of road which took me out of the river valley
and into the small town of Revere. It was there that I took a small break to
once again try dialing home. This time I
was successful. I was only a half hour
late in making my call and Cindy didn’t get on me too bad about it. At this point, I was only about an hour from
the halfway point, and even though I was starting to feel the affects of pedaling
for almost 5 hours straight, I was still in good form, and still on track to be
at the halfway point earlier than I thought I would be.
In only a few more miles I was turning off Route 611 onto South Park Road. I was only about 10 miles from where I grew
up, and these roads were now familiar to me, even though I hadn’t ridden on
them in nearly 20 years. On South Park Road I
noticed the familiar grove of conifers on the right side of the road. As I passed the Lake Nockamixon Dam, I slowed
down to admire the view, but didn’t stop as group of motorcyclists had. After passing the dam the road tilted
upwards. It was only a 3% grade or so,
but it seemed to go on forever as I grew anxious to pass my childhood home. Upon reaching the top of that 3% drag, I
could see Keller’s Church. Some of my relatives
belonged to that church, and I remembered being there as a youngster to attend
my cousin’s wedding. Just around the
corner from Keller’s Church I passed by Birch
Lane, the road I drove down as a teenager to reach
the home of my high school sweetheart.
As I continued on, I couldn’t help but recall some of those memories,
including one which reminded me of being splattered by roadkill earlier in the
morning. On my first date with her we
went to see the movie “Major League.” On
the ride home a cat ran out in front of my car, and “splat”, just like the car
which passed me earlier in the day, only this time the roadkill was being
created not mutilated. And as I cursed
out the cat for running out in front of me, Michelle was crying
hysterically. This was a bad time for me
to find out she was a cat lover. Our
relationship survived that emotional event but couldn’t survive us moving off
to different colleges later that year.
As my mind turned back to the road, I noticed I was passing
the Elephant Hotel which was built in 1848, but has sat vacant for as long as I
could remember. Just a few more miles
down the road and I was taking a sharp left hand turn onto Old Bethlehem Road. I was now riding into the neighborhood in
which I grew up. Immediately upon making
that turn onto Old Bethlehem Road
I began the descent down the famous “ridge” after which Pennridge, my high
school, was named. At the base of that
descent sat the home in which I grew up.
I slowed down to see my former home and the many changes made to it over
the years. Once again, I did not
stop. As I approached the turn onto Branch Road, I decided
to cut through the parking lot of Peace
Lutheran Church,
a 0.1 mile shortcut that I had taken many times as a child. The church was about a quarter mile past my
house. When I was a child, it was the
first destination I was allowed to cycle to by myself, probably as a seven or
eight year old. I spent many an
afternoon cycling around that parking lot either by myself or with my best
friend at the time, David Strawn.
On this day, I spent as little time as possible in that
church parking lot because I was on my way to my sister’s home which was my
midpoint destination, and I was anxious to get there. I left the parking lot out the rear entrance
onto Branch Road. Within a few hundred feet I came to the
intersection of Route 313. I looked to
the right and in the distance I could see “Rogers’
Roadstand” the garden center my late Uncle Ed had
started over 50 years ago. I worked
there as a teenager, and often times my means of transportation to get there
was my bicycle. Back then I was reducing
my carbon footprint long before reducing carbon footprints was cool.
I crossed Route 313 and continued southwest on Branch Road, now only a
mile or two from my sister’s house. I
passed over the East Branch of the Perkiomen Creek,
or “Branch Crick” as I called it as a child when I often fished there. Again, I’d ride my bicycle to get there,
toting fishing pole and tackle box in one hand and trying to maintain my
balance on the handlebars with the other.
Despite this precarious means of transportation, I don’t remember ever
crashing during these travels. After
passing over the crick once, I turned onto Blooming Glen Road and passed over it a
second time, this time via covered bridge.
This part of the course was slightly out of the way for me, but I wanted
to make crossing over that historic covered bridge part of my itinerary.
After crossing the covered bridge, I turned left onto Fifth Street, the main
thoroughfare through the town of Perkasie. To the right was my high school, but I turned
left, onward to see my sister. As I
passed First Savings Bank, the bank in which I opened my first savings account
and later my first checking account, I noted the time and temperature once
again. The time was 11:34 AM, and the temperature was now a balmy 87
degrees. Just past the bank was the turn
onto Penny Lane
and arrival at my sister Donna’s home.
The time was 11:36, and my odometer showed 79.52 miles, and at this point
my average speed for the entire trip thus far was 13.7 mph. I reached this point 24 minutes ahead of my
projected arrival time. Donna had seen
me arrive from her upstairs window and was there to greet me. I placed my bike in the shade of her garage
and took off my helmet, gloves, and shoes.
It felt good to be off the bike for a rest at the midway point. My typical post-ride “recovery” snack is
peanut butter toast, but today that delicacy was my lunch. In addition, I re-stocked my saddle bag and
jersey with fig newtons, power bars, bananas, more
water, and more Gatorade. After about a
half hour had passed, I was refreshed and ready to get back on the road.
Upon resuming my ride, the first thing I noticed was that it
seemed to have gotten both hotter and windier.
The mid-day sun was now beating down on me, and although I still felt
good, I quickly realized that this afternoon’s riding was going to be a
challenge. As I completed my tour of
Perkasie, I cycled past more familiar homes, including the former home of my
high school friend Chris West and my late Aunt Edna. Behind Aunt Edna’s house I caught a glimpse
of Perkasie Elementary School, where I attended
kindergarten back in 1976. As I turned
onto Market Street
in the heart of downtown Perkasie, I began the climb up “Cemetery Hill.” This was the steepest climb of the day. Although the hill was only about a quarter
mile long, the average gradient was about 14 percent, with a section topping
out at 18%. Needless to say I was in my
granny gear for that.
I left Perkasie behind and headed toward the town of Souderton, the hometown of
current Philadelphia Phillies pitcher Jamie Moyer. In Souderton, I turned onto Route 113
South. This started a long grueling
stretch of the ride. The wind, which was
a direct headwind, picked up and there was no shade to be found. I slowed my pace substantially and grinded
through this tough section. After
passing through Harleysville and Lederach I looked
for the turn onto Cross Road,
looking forward to getting off Route 113.
Much to my dismay, Cross Road
was closed, and the detour kept me on Route 113. I was in an area I knew pretty well, so I
wasn’t concerned about the detour, but I was depressed that I’d have to spend
another few miles on Route 113.
Shortly after the detour ended I turned onto Township Line Road in
Schwenksville. Again, this was a
familiar road. While on this road I was
near the homes of two of my best friends from college, Roger Johnson and Ted
Sidoriak. I didn’t tell either of them I
was passing by for fear that they would invite me in, and I wouldn’t
leave. Time seems to fly by when I’m
with either of these two friends who are both governors of my fantasy football
league, the ESFFL.
Township Line Road
led me right into the city of Royersford. My motor preview of a couple weeks earlier
indicated this would be the last place I could stop for food and water for
several miles so I stopped at the 105 mile mark at a Turkey Hill mini-mart. At this point I had 25 miles under my belt
since leaving Donna’s house, but it felt like 50. It was at this point I changed my hydration
strategy. To this point I was drinking
mostly while riding, but in the last few miles my water and Gatorade were
getting quite warm and were starting to make me nauseous. So it was at this point I decided I would
drink more at the rest stops, while the beverages were cold, and less while I
was actually on the bike. I still filled
all four of my bottles upon leaving however.
After this rest stop, it was onto the town of Spring City which was just to
the west of Royersford. There was a
short but very steep hill in Spring
City, another chance for me
to use my granny gear. As I left town
there were several right and left hand turns on my course. Figuring out which road I had to turn onto
next helped keep my mind off the suffering I was now starting to endure. I meandered my way through several roads
before once again returning to good old Route 113 South for another long
stretch of highway. In Kimberton, just before the turn back onto 113, I thought I
had missed a turn, so I stopped briefly in a gravel parking lot to look at my
map. I unclipped only one shoe, and as I
went to re-start in the gravel, I nearly lost my balance and fell. Luckily I was able to “hop” my bike to regain
my balance and avoid falling.
Back on Route 113, I was once again starting to feel the
heat of the midday sun. My bottles were
once again warm and my drinking from them had pretty much ceased other than
small sips whenever I could stand it. I
had about 12 more miles until my next planned stop at mile 125, and I knew this
stretch was going to be a struggle. The
winds continued to be quite strong forcing me to a pace of about 11 or 12
mph. At this point, my feet grew quite
sore. This had been my biggest problem
in my training rides leading up to this ride, and I was actually surprised they
hadn’t started to hurt earlier in the day.
Those 12 miles were tough ones, but at mile 125, I finally reached the WaWa I had targeted as a stopping point. This ride had now become the longest ever
one-day ride for me (surpassing my 113 mile ride from Elkton, MD to Ocean City,
MD on 15-June-07).
At the WaWa I grabbed a corn
muffin, and more Gatorade and water. I
had to laugh when the girl at the checkout counter told me she couldn’t believe
I was “riding around out there in this heat”.
I doubt she would have believed me if I told her I had 125 miles under
my belt on the day already. I went outside
the Wawa and found myself a milk crate I could turn
upside and use as a make-shift chair. I
sat in the shade, took my shoes off, and enjoyed my corn muffin.
And after a 20 minute or so rest at Wawa,
it was back on the road. At this point I
was once again riding on familiar roads.
With only about 40 miles left, I was on roads I had ridden on earlier
during training rides which left from Elkton.
I made my way through Downingtown, and then the small town of Emoryville. I was refreshed at this point and riding
strong. Riding strong that is until I
passed through Unionville and reached the rolling terrain of Route 842. This long stretch on Route 842 nearly broke my
spirit. Though there were no mountains
like I scaled earlier in the day, the constant up and down series of small but
steep hills seemed twice as tough as the mile long climbs of earlier in the
day. When one hill ended, there was no
respite because I hammered on the subsequent descent so I kept the momentum for
the next hill. Perhaps this was a flawed
strategy. Perhaps I should have free-wheeled the descents as a way to
recover. None-the-less, these hills came
at me one by one, making me wish I had investigated an alternate route for this
portion of the ride. In total, there must
have been 6 or 7 of these bumps along Route 842, but it seemed like they would
never end. Even when I turned off onto Hood
Road, there was one more uphill drag to get my
body over before I reached the friendlier terrain of Route 796.
I was originally planning my last rest stop for the Sunoco
station in New London, PA. But once on to Route 796, I knew I had to
stop at the next available option. I
figured this would be the CVS in Jennersville, and I set my sights on this as I
peddled down Route 796. But once in
sight of Jennersville, my eyes caught a glimpse of the golden arches, and my
stomach suddenly went from queasy to craving, a craving for chicken mcnuggets
and fries. I also had a craving for an
ice cold drink of coca-cola. It’s a
common practice for cyclists to drink soda in the last few miles of a long
ride. The sugar and caffeine can give
you the short term fuel you need for one final kick. Although I had never tried this before, I
felt like I needed this kind of kick to complete my ride.
I locked up my bike at one of the outdoor picnic tables at
the Jennersville McDonald’s and headed inside to order my mcnuggets value meal,
complete with one large ice cold coke.
Once my order was in hand and my cup of coke filled, I moved back
outside to the picnic table, removed my shoes, and chowed down. I’m a coke fiend, and I have pretty much
given up soda in my weight loss efforts of the past 1 ˝ years, so this one went
down pretty good. I was hoping the salt
in the nuggets and fries would help replenish some of the sodium my body had
sweated out over the course of the last 13 hours. And as always, as I ate my nuggets, I found
one in the shape of Florida.
After the meal I paused for a few minutes of relaxation time
as I finished my coke. Once done, I took
my water bottles inside and filled them with ice and water. I then answered the call of nature for one
final time. It was the first time I went
since leaving my sister’s home over six hours ago, a sure sign I wasn’t
drinking enough. At this point I tossed
my map into the trash can. I knew how to
get home from here, and didn’t need to carry around that extra weight, even if
it were only a few grams. I even
considered throwing away the spare tube I had been carrying all day, but I
didn’t want to tempt fate in such a way that could come back to haunt me.
Refreshed and ready for the final 20 miles or so, I
remounted my Trek and pulled out back onto Route 796. Following this rest stop, the road seemed to
tilt downhill a bit, the air seemed a bit cooler, the sun sat a little lower in
the sky producing more opportunities for shade, and the wind seemed to die down
substantially. All this coupled with a
little food in my belly and some sugar and caffeine in my bloodstream gave me a
new attitude and a sense that nothing would stop my now. My speed increased a fraction and I took a
few opportunities to ride in a time trial position, saving just a wee bit of
energy for the final few miles. I turned
onto Route 896 and began passing many familiar landmarks. I was almost in cruise control at this point.
As I entered Kemblesville and
turned onto Appleton Road,
I realized that this was the final leg of my journey, only about 10 more miles
to go. And most of that last 10 miles
was downhill. Prior to my ride I was
concerned that I’d lose concentration during these final 10 miles, and perhaps
be in danger of riding off Appleton
road which is a fairly narrow road with steep and deep ditches on the
side. But I was wide awake, the
coca-cola had done me good, and I had no worries about losing concentration.
Knowing that I was approaching the 155.34 mile mark, I moved
screens on my GPS to the one which gave total mileage. The 155.34 mile mark was my original goal
mileage, a metric quarter millennium on the nose. As I watched the total rise to 155.00, I
realized I was getting close to the Maryland
border. As fate would have it, the
mileage total passed 155.34 at the almost exact point I crossed the good ole Mason-Dixon
Line, the PA-MD border. My
goal was accomplished. The rest of this
ride was just gravy.
Still feeling good, I knew I’d have no problem with the
remaining gravy. Onward past both Fair
Hill Nature Center
entrances, past Milborne Orchards, past Barksdale Road,
past the Elk Mills campus, future home for me…, past Appleton Acres, past the
Appleton Campus, current “home away from home” for me. Just as I passed the Appleton Campus the
battery on my GPS died. Fortunately the
battery which was rated for 12 hours had survived for more than 14 hours, and
died just 2 miles from home. Yes, 2
miles left. This was the home stretch as
I made a right hander onto Ricketts Mill Road,
then a quick left hander onto Walnut Lane. From there I crossed over Newark Road,
knowing I had reached the point where I could walk home if I had a mechanical
failure at this point. A left hand turn
took me onto Kentmere Street,
where I always right on the left side of the road to guard against a quick
turning car from Hollingsworth Street
as I turn into the alley which runs behind my house. Just a few meters more and I turned onto Maple
Avenue, and then I pulled into my driveway. The stopped the clock on my cycle computer at
14 hours, 14 minutes, and 35 seconds.
The final mileage worked out to be 163.38 miles. Not bad for a day’s work.
As I complete this summary of my ride, it is now almost
exactly one week to the day of the ride.
I’m none the less worse for wear.
The day after I was quite tired, and after driving back to Oak Ridge
later that following day, I was a bit stiff from the long car ride, but all in
all, not a bad recovery. The scariest
part of this whole thing is trying to figure out what I will do next year to
top this feat. My guess is that it is
going to have to be a two day event, since there isn’t enough daylight in a
single day to top what I just completed.
Then again, I guess I could always try to do the same thing faster. At any rate, there will be plenty of time to
plan that during the off-season, typically the month of December for me. Until then, it’s back on the road for another
1,287.81 miles until I reach my mileage goal for the year of 3,700 miles (100
miles for each year I’ve been on the planet), and perhaps a little mountain
biking as well.
Happy Trails - Jeff
Ride Statistics:
Total distance 163.38
miles
Total time 14
hours, 14 minutes, 35 seconds
Rest time (approx) 1
hour, 45 minutes
Saddle time (approx) 12
hours, 30 minutes
Average Speed (stops included) 11.47 mph
Rolling average 13.07 mph
Max Speed 41.5
mph
Total Calories burned 10,698
calories
Average Heart Rate 127
bpm
Max Heart Rate 165
bpm
Total Ascent 8,399
feet
Departure Point Oak Ridge, NJ
Destination Point Elkton, MD
High Temperature 95
degrees
Wind Speed 8 to 15 mph SSW
Total states visited 3
(in NJ for ~60 miles, in PA for ~95 miles, in MD for ~8 miles)
Bicycle 2005 Trek 1000 Triple Ring 21 Speed
# of Rest Stops 6
# of times answering nature’s call 5 (4 times in first 80
miles / 1 time in last 83 miles)
Song stuck in my head most often “Friday I’m in Love” by The Cure
Food 3
power bars, 4 bananas, 1 oatmeal cookie, 2 slices of toast with peanut butter,
1 pack of mini fig newtons, 1 corn muffin
6 chicken mcnuggets, 1 large McDonalds Fries