It depends

Oh wait, no, it's independence day, happy fifth of July Eve! It's no solstice, but as days go, it seems like one worthy of recognition in the form of some sort of ride with a form of some sort, or at least a form better than the form of this sentence. Period. 

Years, possibly close to decades, ago, I instigated riding a century on the forth of July, with the twist that we'd declare our independence from coasting and ride fixed gears. A few friends joined me and one even stayed for the full loop, mostly on the unpaved Hop River and then Airline rail trails of Connecticut. It finished with an ATV path along the Connecticut River connecting the Portland fairgrounds to Glastonbury, and as we learned, on the fourth of July, that trail become gasoline alley as, I suspect alcohol fueled, patriots flex their quads and other four wheelers.

Today was a less weighty undertaking, but I still had that desire to wander, not be pinned down to roads, throw off the shackles, and think up lots and lots of vague metaphors. I rode a bike, too often a revolutionary action in this world, one with mountain bike-ish tires and gearing, and a recently installed rack, my latest attempt to recreate the bike I rode a lot through the shutdown of 2020, but with 29" wheels. Bikes like that are a lot of fun in the woods, let me comfortably connect those sylvan sections with road miles, and then eventually arrive home with more on the rack than when I left.

I started by riding the old, unimproved railroad bed trails to the end of the Norwattuck Rail Trail in Belchertown. Apparently residents of the town had years ago fought the continuation of the official trail east from its current terminus because it would increase property values like in every other municipality where people have fought multiuse paths and, fortunately, lost. Oh well, the old, unofficial path that does exist is darn fun on an almost mountain bike!

Once into South Amherst, I departed the path for the village commons to take a gander at the holiday hijinx since the posters for festivities mentioned two things that caught my eye: bikes and free ice cream. There were a lot of bikes, always a fun perusal, but after a chance hello with my friend Max and son Shepherd, I settled for the first offered watermelon rather than wait for ice cream that still was playing shy an hour and a half past the start time. I do like watermelon.

I also like the trail system that laces its fingers through so many neighborhoods in Amherst. On the down side, while the town residents like the idea of a trail network, they don't like using it enough to prevent it becoming somewhat overgrown by two weeks past the solstice. No complaints, I'm happy it's mostly there, and I just needed to pick off burrs and wipe myself down with crushed jewel weed to counteract poison ivy a couple times.

Wheee!!!

And this section of the Emily Dickinson Trail

makes me smile every time.

But I eventually left the low road trail

to rejoin the high road rait trail.

The rail trail eventually connected me to lunch nibbles, although no ice cream today, and there was a short nap in there somewhere, and while I never went any furthet than Hadley, it was nearly eight hours after I left when I wandered back home. A substantial part of me believes the true measure of adventure is not how much ground is covered but rather how long it takes to cover very little distance at all! Nope, I wasn't the least bit bored!

And see,

I did come home with more on the rack.

This scrap pile bike had 

170mm cranks,

and I really wanted them,

and I didn't have a crank extractor with me.

The rest will go to Bike Lab 

with me tomorrow to find a new home.

Yes, yes, I have long legs, and any standard crank length calculator will ordain that I should ride a 175mm length crank, not the wee 170s on that 15" frame, but I think those calculators are in error looking at total leg length. Most of my leg length is below the knee, and in the pedal stroke of a bike, that part functions mostly as a connecting rod, and after imprecise experimentation, my legs are less fatigued with stubby cranks, so I guess IT DEPENDS!