Thursday April 29, 7:00 pm EST. The van is gassed, the bikes is loaded, the trade goods is stocked, lets get a move on! Away from Shrewsbury NJ to Cirque 2004. Coming with me are the MKM, the Ephgrave and the Wizard. The last two are for show, the first for go.
After a stop for dinner, I pull into Steve Maasland's driveway in Moorestown NJ (near Philly), and my team mate graciously shows me around the lovely house, exhibits the excellent bike collection, gives me a cold beer and shows me to my bed. I dream happy dreams of rides and folks.
Friday, May 30th. The clock goes off at 0330. Ugh, it's early, but I'm too excited to worry. A quick shower and outside with Steve as we load up the van. Steve is going to do some serious selling, so we've quite the load of bikes. 4 on the roof rack, two in the cargo bay, and two on the trunk rack, including Steve's Bob Jackson SWB Tandem. I recall a DeRosa 35th Anniversary, a Cambio Corsa Bianchi, a late 60's Masi Special, a full NR Legnano and the tandem. That's 8 machines, if you're counting. Exhibiting excellent restraint, we actually have one empty socket on the trunk rack. Off we roll into the pre dawn murk, bikes bristling all over the Team NJ van, Greesnboro bound.
BTW, if you drive down, be sure to get an excellent driving partner like I had. Not only is the driving easier when shared, but the time goes much faster. Passing through the countryside, we discuss Jazz music, Civil war battles (does anyone else shiver when driving by Spotsylvania Court House?), tandem riding properties, Cinelli history, Scrabble strategy (only an amateur stockpiles "U"s) and many more fasciniating bits. We are only slightly delayed in the DC area by traffic, and then start trying to make serious time.
South of Petersburg, it's obvious we're not going to hit our projected ETA of 12:30. I could have sworn I drove the whole thing from Shrewsbury last year in 8.5 hours, but now the trip from only Moorestown is going to take longer than that. Either my memory is going bad, or the extra wind drag is slowing us down. BTW, 4 bikes on the roof of a Caravan don't really hurt the gas mileage, but they make your vehicle labour heavily in the cross winds generated by semi trucks.
Around Durham, with 12:30 already gone, we're pushing the poor van to 70+ mph. Steve calls Pergolizzi via cell phone, to try to stall the start of the 1:00 ride till we get there. What? The ride is 2:00? We slow way down, and relax.
Finally we make port in Greensboro. CDO is already awash with bikes and folks. We jump out, shaking hands and ogling bikes as we ask if the Battleground is letting folks check in yet. Some say yea, some nay. We roll over and are lucky to both get into our rooms. The bikes are snatched off the van, and we lug them into the hotel, change into our riding duds and dash back down to the parking lot. There are bikes all over the Battleground front 40, as folks get ready to ride. I announce that I've got a tire pump, and a line forms. Pergolizzi looks the gift horse in the mouth, telling me my pump is insufficiently functional (but not in those exact words). Harvey Sachs breaks a toe strap and I cannibalize my Berthoud saddle bag to lend him one (anyone know how to get the strap back in on those bags?) Back we go to CDO, for the Friday fixie ride. I'm up on the light blue MKM with the Carradice saddle bag.
There are a couple of ride leaders, and the pace is announced as social. Naturally that means we're on the big ring and hammering after about 3 miles. After 3-4 turns, we dive onto a bike path. Well, most of us dive, some miss and we get a cyclo cross moment as the rest of the pack jumps the curb and run down the embankment to rejoin the path. The route is rolling, but with no vicious hills. I maintain my normal practice of riding slower than most everyone, and drifting back through the pack on the hills, to make sure no one feels inadequate. I receive several compliments on the size of the hole I punch into the wind.
God, the bikes you see on these rides! I think Dan Artley was on a nice, patina'd Colnago Friday, Ann Phillips is up on her Montelatici (?) that has been a list topic of discussion (and Ann, that bike is lovely), one of the Bilenky bunch on a fixie rides with a homburg hat. There's an Atala fixie tandem. I wish I had jotted down some notes Friday, but trust me, the bikes in the pack were stunning.
Back home to CDO, and we're to report to Dales back yard for munchies and chat. I'm glad I left the back seat in the van, because when I announce I have three seats, Brian Baylis, Chuck Schmidt and ???? (I can see you, but can't remember your name, sorry, senior moment) pile in. As a midwest/east coaster, I'm honored to have my rumble seat warmed by the west coast nabobs. I bring the Wizard with me just so I can buttonhole Brian for info, and he tells me that this is probably Wizard #3, with a bottom bracket replacement and refinish by Mike Howard and G. Simmonetti later at Medici. Some of the hangers on early Wizards failed due to inadequate cleaning (not by Brain). It's awesome to get such background info on your bike from the builder. We agree to repaint the bike salmon (Flying Scot Pink) some day in the future when I've eroded enough of the present finish off.
After getting only slightly lost (does every house in the South have a shed in the back yard like Dales?) we reach Casa Brown, where an excellent southern garden party is in progress. We mingle, chat, ogle Dale's collection and shop (Dale, have you missed the Zeus 2000 cranks yet? No wait, I restrained myself at the last minute. Besides it would have hurt to stuff them down my pants.) and relax and soak up the atmosphere. The riding is great, the show is great, but it's the people times that are the best.
We go to the the caverns of Anton's restaurant for dinner. As we cross Anton's parking lot, Peter and Jan Johnson try to run us down in their rental car as they arrive from the airport. I assume they're trying to kill Chuck S or Brian, and I am just an innocent bystander. But years of honing our reflexes dodging traffic preserves our lives. Antons, like last year, is crowded and cozy, the best kind of party. I nearly lose my voice talking loud enough to be heard by folks sitting right next to me. It's great to sit down again with Dan Artley, Paul Raley, Charlie Young, Karen Rawls and a whole bunch of others. Karen corrupts me by passing me additional Bass Ales, but somehow I don't mind. Charlie has to step out the have a fag with Ray.
Finally, the night ends, and we stumble back to the Battleground. Steve and I have been up for about 20 straight hours with a nine hour drive and 2 hour ride, so we go to our rooms and collapse into bed. It's the end of Cirque, day one.
Tom Adams, Shrewsbury NJ