Follow the rules...or at least use common sense!

    It doesn't matter where I've been riding this summer - and I've been all over the place, with the Cycle Tech Sojourns, trips to the Jersey shore and some new routes during the regular rides on Tuesday evenings with my crew - it never ceases to amaze me how much foolish behavior can be seen by others riding bicycles. Sometimes I'm just left shaking my head, but often I really feel obligated to say something to the guilty party.

   I lose count of the number of folks I encounter riding against the flow of traffic, and I don't hesitate to remind them that, as operators of vehicles, we should be following traffic laws. These "salmon", if you get the analogy, are also encroaching on my riding space, and I value all the room I can get when sharing the road with cars/trucks! Riding against the direction of traffic just doesn't make sense, as a head-on collision would pretty much guarantee tragic results, when a bump from behind might just send you off the side of the road with a scrape or two.

   I was riding in the bike lane on Dune Drive in Avalon and passed a guy riding a cruiser bike while talking on his phone. I didn’t hesitate to yell at him, “Get off your phone while riding your bike!” I heard him answer, “You’ve gotta be kidding me!” I had no problem responding, “Then you must be an idiot.”
   If you take offense at me using that word because you might have been caught acting in same reckless manner while riding, you need to have a hard look at the possible consequences. Unless you are on a organ donor list or some relative is sharing his/her final deathbed words, there is no reason you can’t pull over immediately at the side of the road or trail.
   Even a momentary lapse in concentration while you are needlessly yapping could be deadly, but I doubt whatever you might be talking about is worth a possible concussion, sprained wrist, broken collarbone or even just a batch of nasty road rash!
   Everyone has to remember that they are sharing the road with moving tons of steel and plastic, driven by folks who may also be mindlessly chatting on their phones. I’m sure those drivers aren’t as concerned about the possible damage we and our bikes can cause to their vehicles as we are about the certain hurting the cars/vans/trucks, are going to put on us!

   We encountered another wonderful cell phone user during our Sojourn Saturday morning on the Columbia and Black River Trails, and I promptly gave him the necessary advice, but the real fun happened later, when a mixed bag of bad behavior nearly caused a pile-up involving us. We were a bit surprised when hearing an "on your left" warning, since we were moving at a decent clip, but I pointed out to my friend Lee, that the guy who buzzed by us on his mountain bike had probably just started at the trailhead we passed about a half-mile ago, and we were finishing up the last few miles of our 45-mile trip.

   The guy didn't exactly leave us in the dust (and there was plenty of that in the air around the gravel trails, since we haven't had much rain lately), and we were just a short distance behind him during his attempt to pass an older couple who could not "hold a line". They were weaving erratically across the trail, and you could see the mountain bike rider was indecisive about which side he would attempt to blow by them.

   He may have shouted something, but we didn't hear it, and he definitely should have approached them at a more controlled speed. The couple panicked and slammed on the brakes, nearly causing a collision. The folks then started shouting out at the passing cyclist and compounded the issue by turning their bikes sideways while they did so, effectively creating a roadblock (trailblock?) for us as we closed in behind the confrontation.

   The woman started yelling at us to give notice when passing, and I suppose she was thinking we were all together, but I gave her a palm-down signal to calm herself. "We aren't with him, and we always do give notice," I explained to her.

   We were a bit edgy the rest of the ride, but we didn't let the incident wreck what was an otherwise beautiful day. We had been spoiled by some cooler weather the previous week, but this morning was noticeably more humid and summer-like. However, this route has very few miles without the benefit of the shady North Jersey forests, so we were very comfortable all day.

   The Columbia Trail has many access points, so we had plenty of company - there was practically a constant flow of cyclists, joggers, walkers and horseback riders to weave through. On the way out, we encountered a group of six riders on intimidating Clydesdale horses (they are absolutely HUGE), and on the return leg there was a smaller group galloping toward us in a big cloud of dust. I had the soundtrack to the western "The Big Country" in my head - you many have assumed something more familiar like "The Magnificent Seven", but I'm a big Gregory Peck fan, and the band Yes riffed on the "Big Country" theme in their song "No Opportunity Necessary, No Experience Required", so that music sticks in my head. 

   The female riders were smiling broadly as they approached, and they considerately slowed to a walking pace by the time they reached us. We had pulled over to the side, giving them plenty of room anyway. Again, we were in awe of the immense Clydesdales, and let out a collective "wow" as the women took the opportunity to gallop off into the empty space behind us on the pathway.

   Conditions were much different over on the Black River Trail - we were practically alone, since there are only entry points at each end of the 4-mile route. The raised path, on the roadbed of a former Delaware, Lackawanna and Western Railroad branch, runs through swamp land, and the mostly dirt surface seems to sop up some of that moisture.

   After a brief on-street transfer around Horseshoe Lake and through the communities of Succasunna and Flanders, we returned to the Columbia Trail. It was a funny coincidence that Lee, who has a sister in Spain, and I had just been talking about travel in Europe when we approached the crossing with Route 513. I overheard a woman riding in front of us telling her friend that the Jenkinson Nursery there reminded her of Tuscany.

   I could see what she meant with the lightly-colored crushed stone roads and the tree-lined driveway, but the types of plants were all wrong, and the power lines/telephone poles really ruined the effect. I smiled and said to her, "...if you really use your imagination!" We agreed it was actually all just wishful thinking!

   The homestretch, a slightly downhill return into High Bridge through the Ken Lockwood Gorge, is always a favorite part of the ride, and we laughed a short time later when when we pulled into the trailhead lot and saw the dark stripes of sweaty dust that had collected down the front of all our legs. We cleaned up a bit before loading our bikes and drove over to Gronsky's Milk House for some fantastic, and well-deserved, ice cream.