A few years back I was convinced that the Hart Barn in Carlisle was cursed, since every time I showed up for a ride there it seemed the weather was dreadful. So it was for Jim & Lyn’s classic “Carlisle before the Bugs” ride.
The only reason I showed up was that I figured no one else would. I’d say hi to Jim and then could morally proceed to the after-ride party. I figured there’d be plenty of food, due to the dearth of participants, and a feeding frenzy would ensue. But as cruel fate would have it, the party was cancelled due to lack of participants. And as it turned out, I was not alone. A small band of hearties showed up to do the ride in what started out to be bad weather and got much worse. So I succumbed to peer pressure and decided to do the ride too. I figured at least I could convince every one to bail out at the 30 mile split. As I saw the two riders in front of me take the long option, I once again succumbed to peer pressure and followed them.
Once I realized I wasn’t having fun anymore, I started thinking OK, as soon as I see something that looks familiar, I’m heading home. Unfortunately, at that point nothing looked familiar and things were getting more and more unfamiliar as the ride progressed.
I realized I was in a town named Dunstable, wherever that was. I saw a town line marker, hoping for a more familiar town. The next town was Tyngsboro. Now I didn’t know exactly where Tyngsboro was, but I knew it was darn close to New Hampshire. But I was still following Jim’s arrows, and Jim wouldn’t lie about a thing like that. Of course, I could have checked the map that I had tucked away in my jersey pocket, but real men don’t look at maps. Or stop, except to answer the Call of Nature. Jim and Lyn’s arrows were actually quite good. You could have followed the route in a car. And if I had any doubts there were plenty of other arrows for guidance. Fortunately all roads lead to Bedford. At various times I encountered Pam and John’s pi arrows, the Thursday night fitness ride upside down T arrows, Peter Serratore’s Friday night orange arrows, not to mention BMB, and the CRW fall century. I may not know where I am, but I know my arrows.
While wandering on the ride, I saw something that I could not believe. Coming down 225 just past 110, there is actually a road named Lyberty Way. Now I’ve seen a lot of this cutesy pseudo revolutionary Olde Tyme Whatevere, but this is really too much. I’m sure no one in Paul Revere’s day ever said “Give me Lyberty or give me death.” Here you have a brand new housing development that’s probably existed for a year and a half and they’re trying to give it character with a fake revolutionary name (to quote William Bendix “What a revolting development this is”).
(My apologies if any of you live on Lyberty Way — it’s not your fault, it’s the developer that should be hoisted on his owne petarde).