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| Under Captain's constant goading, Grumpy missed the group photo this week. Here's the last one saved in his camera as we were setting up for the group photo. Standing are CT Blogger, Captain and behind us Anonymous Ed. Pogy is down front, as is his way. And Grumpy is behind the camera pushing buttons. The Connecticut Polar Bears were in Blue Bell, Pennsylvania. |
By: Chris Loynd
Photos by: Grumpy
Captain has a way of convincing his fellow Connecticut Polar Bears into leading a ride once in a while. Some of us, including Captain, are very often the first bike in line. Others are more reticent. When Captain reaches his boiling point, he makes subtle hints.
So this Sunday when Anonymous Ed arrived at the Dunkin', Captain asked him if he had the destination in his GPS. Ed said, "no" and Captain answered that would be a problem . . . because he was leading today. Ed said something about his GPS being "wonky" and Captain answered that he'd already tried that excuse before.
By the time I arrived, Ed was punching addresses into his GPS and proudly announcing he had the lead. I offered to sweep, because a good sweep can make the lead's job a lot easier. We were four until we picked up Pogy in Darien. Still, five is a good number. Five is easy. Marco claimed a medical discharge.
Unfortunately, I was responsible for some confusion. Try as I may, I was, perhaps, an over-active sweep. In several instances I moved over to block, for example on the parkways where two lanes merge into one. But instead of holding his line, Ed saw me in his mirror and moved over. In one case, once he moved all the other riders over, I actually moved back to hold the original lane. In other cases, I merely moved over to anticipate Ed. That doesn't mean I was trying to steer from the back. But Ed said at lunch he felt I was perhaps doing just that.
At lunch I had a chance to clear the air with Ed. And except for a rather hairy U-turn on the way home, the ride down and back again was smooth. And don't take it too hard Ed. You haven't led if you haven't led everyone into a U-turn a time or two. I maybe have the record for the worst one, cutting across a median to avoid going back over a bridge for the second time. On that ride I got so confused, my GPS was leading me to waypoints instead of destinations. Finally, one of my fellow riders took over the lead and got us the heck out of New York City.
One thing we all agreed upon was how much we like our destination, PJ Whelihan's. It's a big restaurant. They give the bears a dedicated room. There's coffee sitting on the end of the bar waiting for us, self-serve with glass mugs and all the fixings. (Last year they also had donuts, just sayin'.)
Our EDP (Early Departure Protocol) got us there at 10:40 a.m. That's early, but we weren't the first to arrive. We all agreed it was a good idea to get there early. As we put our food orders in, we watched Polar Bears pouring into the room as from a firehose. A big group of HOGs pulled together half the tables in the room. We were glad we got our order in before them.
Prompt and attentive waitresses, busboys and servers were rushing around with greater urgency as bears proliferated. Our waitress took good care of us, even brought an extra plate of pickles, much to Pogy's and Ed's delight.
We signed in promptly at 11:30. Captain rushed to be first in line, letting his sandwich go cold so he could record his presence and mileage. Me, I had the luck of waiting behind a new rider signing in for the first time. But I'd already finished my lunch and so was unconcerned.
Our EDP was more than successful. Traffic was better than usual. We all made it home before sunset. Only Grumpy and I opted to enjoy a hot chocolate at the top of the Garden State Parkway. The rest of our guys beat for home. Even with the extra break, Grumpy and I sailed up the Merritt. I turned into my driveway before sunset.
Noticing all those nasty DOT stripes on the highway, I washed the bike and finished it with SaltAway to try and stave off corrosion.
As we rode into Blue Bell, Penn., I noted the little keystone shaped sign. Even at our slow, in-town, speed I was able to catch only one tidbit, "Formerly Pigeontown." I thought to myself, "Well that was a good idea to change the name." We even saw a big blue bell in front of I think a lawyer's office. But a bit of Googling shows that wasn't the town's inspiration.
It was named after large flocks of the now extinct passenger pigeons that once called the area home. Pigeons have a PR problem. In the 1700s and early 1800s they were thought magnificent animals. In his 1980 film "Stardust Memories," Woody Allen called them "rats with wings."
Great flocks of these sleek and speedy birds roamed the nation. Pigeons have been clocked at 92.5 mph. Homing pigeons were one of the first long-distance communications methods. People raced pigeons. People raised pigeons. People ate pigeons. Like veal, young pigeons, squab were (still are) a delicacy.
Like many of man's environmental conquests, there were seemingly endless pigeons. Then we cut down their forests and shot most all of them. Passenger pigeons are now extinct and not by natural causes. We disappeared them.
Today the rock dove or common pigeon is the only one left. They've learned to coexist with mankind, mostly in cities in large numbers where they survive on human garbage. By debasing themselves they are no longer hunted for food.
And Pigeontown, bereft of admirable pigeons, renamed itself after the historic, local, and locally famous, Blue Bell Inn in 1840.
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