What a wonderful wonderful bridge

When ever I hear someone say George Washington Bridge, I sing that song in my head…really everytime.

My Grandma Finn used to sing that song often. I am not sure if she was making fun of my Dad (his name is George), or it was some sort of family pride thing for her, but I remember her singing it in the living room of her old house. I have just never been able to shake that from my head.

The family pride comes from the story that her Uncle was one of the head muckity mucks on the building of the bridge. When she was a little girl, he would take her and my great aunts out on the day in NYC. I could only imagine what it would have been like at that time.

Enough with the familial memories. Jenni has been just begging for me to go for a ride with her, so I finally said yes. We do not have to raise a bunch of money and travel all over the country to ride together. We can actually stay in the greater Northeastern US and get a ride in! Actually we have tried to ride together before, but life got in the way with like all of the members of our group.

Through a bunch of emails, we were able to set something up and she was able to wrangle a few folks together to go out for a brisk Sunday morning spin.

My ride started much earlier than everyone elses, as I had to get up at 5 to make it to Jenni’s place in time for the ride. The ride on the parkway or turn pike or wherever I was is not too bad that early in the morning.

When I got to Jersey or wherever I was, I had a gracious host who not only had snacks ready, but I did not have to change into my riding clothes on the side of the road. If you travel enough for riding, you get used to covering your arse with an ill-fitting towel or turning yourself into a contortionists in the drivers seat of your car all while trying to but your riding britches on without showing any passer-by your junk.

The drive down to the meeting place, was awesome. We saw so many cyclists out riding I thought I was back in Boulder, Co. We all met at the Piermont Bike Works parking lot and got ready while I got to test out how much I can joke around with my new riding buddies. Everyone seemed to be dickering with their bikes, clothes, etc while getting ready, so I decided to do the same. I am glad I did, because the problem child did have a problem. I saw a little too much bulge coming out of the hole in the sidewall of my front tire. I guess my doubled up duct tape was taking Sunday off after putting in so much work already.

I had to delay our ride for a minute or two while I went to the shop and just finally sucked it up and just bought a new tire.

After the pre-req bike and clothing dickering time was over, we were finally out on what some folks call the best out and back in the country. I set the pace a bit high on roads that I did not know. I kind of get sketched out riding with folks I don’t know, and to be honest, I have a hard time trusting folks with my life when I met them 15 minutes prior. I was working to keep the group together while still getting a good workout in. We had a few sprints in there that got us going pretty quick and I felt that I climbed well for the most part. Jenni worked at keeping us safe and on track as much as she could.

She might know where she is going. What good are directions when you are out on your bike?

After I figured out where we were in Fort Lee, we finally got down to the bridge. I was singing the song the whole time and thinking about how funny my G-mom could be sometimes.


We went out to the center span of the bridge, which was super windy and really bright. Structures, cities, and rivers like that really make you feel insignificant  but I tried to put on my best Geo Wash.

Someone forgot the orange slices, but we worked out a picture any way.

The ride back to Piermont was great. I rode most of it by myself with a few attacks on some Fred’s out for a ride. The highlite was going somewhere over 40mph (I don’t really believe in putting computers on bikes, but someone I passed said he was going 40mph.) on a downhill while passing folks like they were standing still. One thing I am built for is going downhill.

We froze our butts off while getting the slowest and most bland Mexican I have ever had, but the company was good. BSing about a ride and riding over some Mexican food is what cycling is all about. Forget your Carbon fiber and give me some Chipotle salsa.

I got a quick tour around Ridgewood before I got in the car to try to get home from NYC on the Sunday of Thanksgiving weekend. That was not the smartest move of the day. I spent somewhere around 4 hours getting home, and that was because I got out of the traffic and took back roads. I would probably still be there if it were not for my trust in GPS and my map reading skills.

2 Responses to “What a wonderful wonderful bridge”
  1. Jenni says:

    Ahem, only one of us was freezing over bland Mexican. The other one had a warm snuggly sweatshirt.

  2. Patricia says:

    instead of singing Chicka Chicka Boom Boom… I am now singing
    George Washington Bridge!!

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