Friday, October 22, 2010

I left my shorts at Valley Forge

October 9th

I woke up feeling refreshed in my jacuzzi equipped hotel room feeling fine. I made some oatmeal with sugar and blueberries and packed up feeling fired up and ready to go.

This feeling did not last as I realized I was missing one pair of cycling shorts. I alert Nicole to this problem and after searching the room, we conclude that I left the shorts somewhere in Valley Forge park. Reluctantly, we decide to pedal back to where we ate dinner last night. We ride over the Schuylkill River but find no shorts.

Rats.
The famed Valley Forge where Washington's troops regrouped after a bitter defeat.

We ride over the Schuylkill River again and tour Valley Forge, where a haphazard Continental Army found refuge after defeat at Philadelphia. It's mostly rolling fields at the foot of Pennsylvania Appalachians. Around lunchtime, Nicole informs me that her ankle feels a little sore. I make an executive decision that we will ride on a nearby bike trail to Philadelphia and then cut through Delaware to ride through flatter terrain. There is also an REI on route where we can stock up on freeze dried meals.

REI is about halfway between Valley Forge and Philly. I go to the camping section while Nicole decides to have her front derailleur adjusted. It does not go well for Nicole.

"Your front derailleur is fine," the "mechanic" says. "Your just cross-chaining. Your bike should look like this."

I didn't witness the damage, but he also "fixed" the brakes. "They'll stop much better now," he said.

Within five minutes after leaving REI, Nicole realizes that her front brakes are grabbing the rim. Angrily, I kick a tree stump. I had to kick something. Then it takes me about one quarter of a second to get the brakes work properly. Ah, but the agony, the agony of getting my multi-tool for such a mundane adjustment. The agony.

I calm down once we start riding again and arrive in Philadelphia. We spot an Egret underneath a bridge on the outskirts of the city. Nicole gets some great photos before we pedal onward to Chamonix Mansion. Rest assured, it is no mansion but a hostel. We have the option of dorm-like accommodations for each of us for a grand total of $46, or an apartment room for $55. We opt for the apartment and unload our bikes, eager to enjoy one of the many fine restaurants of Philadelphia.

Our bikes feel dangerously fast as we ride to a nearby Mexican Restaurant. Without the extra gear, we average close to 17.5 miles per hour, about 50 percent faster than our loaded-down speed.

We return to the optimistically named "mansion." Tomorrow, the great state of Delaware . . .

No comments:

Post a Comment