Last Century

I was born in the middle of the last century. Just thought I’d throw that in, even though this entry is about my last 100 mile ride (or “century” in cycle ling) before the trip. I drove to my folks’ house in Bridgewater and set off north on Rt 206. It’s pretty much all up hill going north; it took my 4 hours to ride 50 miles out, and 3 hours to ride back. It’s a route I’d driven (and thought too long) many times taking Chris and then Matt to Boy Scout camp.

There were many childhood memories along the way. “Wild West City” is still there. Bob and my cousins John and Dave would go there to play cowboy. We’d ride on a stage coach and “bad guys” would jump out and ambush it. A gun fight ensued. The good guys always won. We also got to lock each other up in the jail. My “Uncle” Bernie’s Hillside Lounge couldn’t be seen from the road, but is still there about half a mile up Hillside. Uncle Bernie isn’t doing so well, he’s in the VA hospital. “Little Bernie” is behind the bar now. I didn’t stop…. Lake Hopatcong (see pix) was the site of water daring and bravery. I can remember jumping into the lake off a platform that must have been a gazillion feet high. Well, I was little, and it was big, maybe 10 feet high. The only disappointment of the trip was that I couldn’t eat at The Chatterbox. It was at the 48 mile mark and looks cool, I always wanted to stop there. But there is a big sign on the front door- NO CLEATS OF ANY KIND. Cycling shoes have cleats, so I took them off, thinking my fashionable “American Cycling League” socks would save the day. Then there was another sign, “NO SHOES, NO SHIRT, NO SERVICE. Damn, never thought that would apply to me. So I left, found a nice dinner further down the road, had a nice lunch, and tipped big.

The scenery is quite lovely; horse country fades into forest and then farm. The Northern part of the state is very rural. If you were swept away by aliens and then dropped here, you’d never guess you were in New Jersey.