I was not looking forward to the new commute yesterday (my first day on the new job). I had been given a laptop a week or so ago so I could begin to poke around the codebase, and now, I had to get said laptop (a large-ish Dell workstation-type model) back to the office, in my messenger bag. When I slipped the strap over my shoulder, the weight threatened to tip me over backwards. Yes sir, this would be fun.
Running down Baker Street faster than usual (thanks to the front brake), I found myself turning right on the 62nd Street Bridge. The expansion joints on the bridge deck are scary — gaping jaws ready to catch a skinny road tyre. Exiting into Sharpsburgh, I bounced over the rough concrete and slowly picked my way over the railroad tracks into Etna proper. For now, I wished I had cushy cyclocross tyres, rolling resistence or not. Moving along Butler Street, I notice a small cafe/deli and think maybe I’d stop some morning.
As quickly as I’m on Grant Street, I’m off again, up Dewey, heading for the “back way” to avoid the initial hill up Mt. Royal out of Etna. Once out of the neighborhood, I’m on Pine Creek Road, meandering below the traffic of Mt. Royal. Pine Creek is only a gentle climb most of the way, passing small pockets of houses, folks that are brave enough to live across from a creek that floods at a moment’s notice. It is a nice section of road, with little traffic and a wide shoulder. I note, however, the lack of any sort of street lamps, and realize I’ll have to upgrade my (non-existent) lighting system for the winter.
At the end of Pine Creek Road, the road bends sharply to the right, and I’m faced with the single hardest climb of the commute — a short, steep rise that curves quickly to the right. Immediately, I lose momentum, and I’m one the drops of my bars, the bike rocking side-to-side. I hear the chain grown a bit each revolution, and I hear the tyres buzz as the bike leans with my pedal stroke. At the crest of hill, I turn left on Vollmer, into another residential area. The grade eases somewhat, and the crossing guard at the corner smiles and says “Hello, there.” I wheeze a “hello,” and this disrupts my breathing terribly, and I’m now panting, hoping this will end soon. I feel like I’m barely moving — in fact, I’m sure someone walking could overtake me with ease. Soon enough, I’m at the top of the hill, hands now resting on the bar top, tongue wagging. The respite will be shorted lived, however, with another short rise ahead that will bring to Mt. Royal.
Most of the ride into work on Mt. Royal is just slightly rolling. In the first two miles, I don’t even have to get out of the saddle. This, however, ends abruptly just past Ferguson Road. The hill is deceptively steep, though relatively short. Any momentum carried from the previous downhill is lost rather quickly, and again, the bike rocking side-to-side, the chain squeaking just a little from effort. Once to the top however, it’s a looooong downhill to the office parking lot. Which of course means…
It’s abrupt start to the ride home — poking my nose out of the parking lot, looking for traffic, and then immediately it’s into the drops for more bike rocking and tongue wagging. The intitial hill is long, but not sustained. The angle decreases eases a bit in the middle, allowing a bit of rest before the final surge around the first corner. Once at the top it’s a short, steep drop past Ferguson, and then the deceptively easy climb through the S-curve. I thought upon first inspection that this climb would be the killer, but it’s not, really. Yes, I’m out of the saddle a lot, but the first curve flattens a bit. After the second curve, it’s a short sprint to the crest, then nothing but rolling bumps until Saint Bonaventure school, where I leave Mt Royal for the quiet of the residential streets.
Going down Vollmer, I’m amazed at how long the hill is. I let my legs spins freely, using the handbrake once or twice to check my cadence without skipping the rear wheel. Quickly I’m at the top of hill above Pine Creek road, shocked and appalled I rode this brakeless on my first sortie with Aaron. Hard braking and a skip or two checks my speed enough, and I gently rolling, rolling down Pine Creek Road, enjoying the creek and the pines.
The last bit of Pine Creek Road is rippled like a washboard, and I bounce over them, not at all gracefully. It’s good preparation for the remainder of the ride, however, through the potholed, cracked streets of Etna. I’m still learning the ebb and flow of traffic, so I’m cautious as I pick my way across cars to turn left on Bridge Street. Once again, I wobble over the railroad tracks and harsh cement slabs just before the bridge, and I find the ride still has a sting in the tail — the final rise to the deck of the 62nd Street bridge. It’s not long or steep, but in the corridor of concrete, rattling over expansion joints, drainage grates, and potholes, I’m not happy about it. I’ve also realized it’s best to simply hug the yellow line up the ramp, rather than find myself in the middle of two lanes of traffic once on the bridge deck. Hugging the jersey barrier, I pick my way, quickly, through the potholes and cracks, bounce through the intersection with Butler Street, and take comfort in the final, familiar rise to home.
Posted on 14 October 2005