On The Commute “A Brand New Funk”
My company decided that 102 years of ironfisted ownership was enough and that it was time to merge with another company. My biggest concern besides having money for luxurious items such as food, was my new commute. For the last 6 years no matter the conditions, I pedaled away for 22 miles back and forth from Bloomfield to Prospect Park. The route was flat, the people on it were friendly and there were great spots to pull off the road to piss when the need occurred. I was comfortable as a guy greased up in anti-chaffing cream and Lycra could be.
My new route that will need major tweaking, is about 10.2 miles. It involves warming up for about 5 minutes and then climbing for the next 15. Those numbers reversed would suit my engine a little more graciously, but as a dedicated commuter, sometimes you just have to play the hand you were dealt.
In order not to completely blow up, I took the 6-8% grade in the saddle and ground upwards. There is no worse feeling than to look at your back cluster and have it look back at you as if to say, “the rest of this climbs on you buddy”.
Cars on Bloomfield Avenue are fairly gracious allowing me a generous 8 inches of road to manage. I guess they are there to help make sure that I don’t begin to rock side to side in an effort to conjure more power. Lance had Chris Carmichael, I have Dodge, Toyota and a plethora of other makes keeping me honest.
Within the back 4 miles of my ride after leaving Verona and some Caldwell, I hit a snaking decent that without a stroke puts me at 35. Maybe I’ll learn to enjoy it, save for the gruesome fact that what goes down, must come up, much like Cuervo. The laws of physics in cycling can sometimes be skewed.
Once I finish my last decent, I ride a few false flats and flats until, I get to my destination in Fairfield. The pro to climbing into work, is descending literally for the last 4 miles home. With every pro there is a con. That whole yingyang thing. I get to descend through traffic going 30+mph with my only protection from imminent death being my wits and utter lack of concern for cars who feel that 45mph is the new 30mph.
Fun times ahead.