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| CT Bears in Bridgewater, from left: Grumpy, CT Blogger, John J., Captain, Marco and down front Pogy. Fonz had to leave early and missed the group photo. |
By: Chris Loynd
Photos by: Grumpy
Due to a nor'easter our opening week, this Sunday's ride was our second of the season. I offered to lead, for fun, perhaps, for a sense of tradition, certainly. My first Polar Bear ride was 2002. I rode alone to the Poconos and back. Over the years I invited others from Connecticut to join me. Some took to winter riding. Others dropped out after a season or two. Some made most of the rides, others only occasionally.
I remember being so uncertain. After all, I'd started riding motorcycles just 6 months earlier. I had only a pair of electric gloves on that first ride. Lots of layers got me through the first few rides. Eventually I added an electric jacket liner. I rode that way for years. Nowadays, I use a full electric suit, socks, pants liner, jacket liner and gloves. Just because it's winter doesn't mean I like to be cold.
Marco is a new Polar Bear and I guess he liked his first ride. He was riding with electric jacket and gloves borrowed from Pogy. Captain, who eschews electrics, complained Marco was too soon indoctrinated.
Marco signed up for the Grand Tour on this, his first ride. Bob Hartpence, Polar Bear Chieftain, joked he wouldn't have let Marco had he known he was with the Connecticut clan.
Our ride down was uneventful. As lead bike, your wingman is most important. If your second rider doesn't stay with you, he, not the lead bike, becomes the defect lead. That makes it difficult to time passes and lane changes.
I had Captain beside me, at least for most of the ride. A few times he dropped back, far back. Usually he rides so tight you can feel him. When I asked him at The Eagles, he said, "I know. I only dozed off a time or two." He stayed closer on the ride home.
We reached the destination needing gas There's a station just as we made the final turn. But Grumpy told me from experience that it was a disaster. Once entered the only departure option was a right turn and a long distance until we could come about. New Jersey has an unnatural fear of left turns. Often they employ the "jug handle" where you make a right turn, loop around to a traffic light where you can finally go left.
Grumpy assured me if I simply went back the way we came, using the traffic light where we entered to make a left and then staying straight on that road, we would encounter a gas station on the proper side of the road and soon thereafter I-287. But I blew the first turn.
Following my GPS, I went a road farther south before turning. We did find gas. Then I rode past the I-287 entrance. Again, I was fooled by my GPS. No excuse for it.
We'd actually had a discussion at lunch about how your GPS will always try to put you across the George Washington Bridge and onto the dreaded Cross Bronx Expressway. To our minds that's never a good option on the return trip. Having missed Grumpy's direction, I kinda knew where I was, but my GPS egged me on by pointing to the dang GW Bridge. When I realized its evil deception, it was too late, especially with a line of bikes behind me.
Now completely off course, I used only my innate sense of direction to ride through some local suburbs, looping back to get yet another bite at the I-287 entrance ramp.
Once sorted, the rest of the ride home went pretty well. Maybe I'll ask Grumpy to lead this one next year.
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| Even with electric undergarments, I still bundle up. Here I am delayering for lunch. |
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| John J., left, looks on as this week's ride leader Chris, middle, checks on his wingman's, Captain, right, well being. |
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| Pogy, left and Fonz, center with new Polar Bear Marco, right. |
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| Pogy and CT Blogger at the back of the line. |
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| Sign in. |
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| Chris and Pogy and lunch. |
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| Bob pic of the week. |
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