I do most of my training alone.

Not so much by choice as by necessity. The fact is that up where I'm from in Northern Wayne County and the surrounding areas, many people believe that the only reason anyone would or even should ride a bike is because they've been convicted of DWI and hence, can no longer legally operate a motor vehicle. As such, most any group ride I get the opportunity to participate in generally requires that I travel 40 to 90 miles each way, and is for the most part limited to weekends. There are a dozen or so weeks in spring and summer where I make it a point to hit one of several weeknight training or series races, usually in the Rochester area, but these are tough as I don't get home until 9:30 or 10:00pm due to the distance these are from home. Still, I thoroughly enjoy riding in different or new places, and so I can't say that I mind going elsewhere to meet up with riding partners.

The group ride this past Sunday started and finished on Mutton Hollow Road, a.k.a. 'The Hollow', just South of Prattsburg, NY. We headed South with a relatively large group including Geneva Bicycle Center Champions Mark and Suzanne Hartman, pictured below, as well as GBC's Matt Hanggi and his girl Doyle; Hollow natives Casey and Val, along with nearby local Jeremy; Semi-Pro Hil Jaymire; and myself.

Our train headed down into the Canisteo River Valley, about 12 miles North of the PA border. This is a narrow valley running from Canisteo to Corning, called 'Pennsyltucky' by Casey & Co. At one point, Jay, Mark, and I took off from the front of the group. We were in our own groove and by the time we realized that the others must have turned off at the intersection we had passed a few miles back, we had to turn around and do a concentrated 24mph team time trial for a good half hour to catch up to them. All tallied the day's ride covered 70 miles and about 3500 vertical feet of climbing. A mid-ride pitstop landed us at a gas/convenience store where we resupplied ourselves with calories and drink. As if on cue came an Appalachian Plateau version of an LA lowrider; ironically clad with a Kentucky licence plate and from the direction of the nearby PA border. He did say it was Pennsyltucky!

The driver and his partner had decended from the high hills to purchase a 30 pack of beer and more gas for their dirt bikes. This bad-assed little truck had electric powered air compressors providing instantly controlled lift & deflation via front and rear air bags. It had a high-rise stick shifter made from logging chain having had the links welded together to form a rigid shaft, and had an old ball hitch welded to the end to fit up into the palm of the hand. These boys were predictably drunk, and although the owner of the vehicle was initially reluctant to pose with his pimped-out ride, a little well directed admiration cajoled him to do so. Unexpectedly and to our delight, we were also treated to a fine burning rubber smoke show out on the highway as they departed. Lucky for these boys this was Pennsyltucky. Up in Wayne County they'd be riding bikes.