Ride # 27: Drumlin Ramble

Saturday, March 29, 12:30, high 40s

I'd intended to ride big this weekend but then allowed myself to be diverted from that plan and instead I drove to the coast of Maine, Kittery Point, for an ad hoc gathering of old book-selling friends. That meant that I only got out for a couple hours.

But fine hours they were. Despite being dressed in full tights and skullcap and lemon/lime insulated windbreaker zip-up top, it's really no longer winter and I can no longer construe these rides as "winter riding." We have definitely crossed over into rough spring. Today for example was almost warm in the high 40s ... and yet it still held a lap dog's snarl and nip so you had to be careful not to under dress.

Headed out into the hills which, I now realize, are actually the Sterling Hills as well as the Princeton Hills. It depends on where in the hills you are. "Hey! Wheren' th' hill am I?" Ha.

Naked Drumlin

In a weird sort of suddenness, large swathes of bare ground have emerged. The Dexter Drumlin is completely bare. The Davis Farm lands are bare, big expanses of dun flank.

On this Saturday in late March the light is completely flat, not a shadow cast from the gauzy thick sky. An overcast of maudlin wan. The roadsides are etched by corroded snow banks, dull in muddy gouache. Every edge is round.

I see other riders today, several different encounters but they're all going the opposite direction. No rabbits to chase.

No road kill either. But plenty of live pigeons, doves, robins, blue jays, starlings, cardinals.

Ride Stats: 30.93 miles (48 k), 14 mph, 2 hours and a few minutes.