Events: Hell of Hunterdon 2022
(2022) The calendar said spring but the atmosphere felt like fall as I rolled to the start of the 2022 Hell of Hunterdon spring classic. After a two-year hiatus for Covid, the twelfth annual ride returned with a muted reentry into the cycling lineup. Riding from the high school parking lot to the official start demonstrated the year’s differences: no mass start, no team tents, fewer participants. Rolling away at the last possible moment, it was no wonder the empty bike racks, vacant parking lot, and flapping banners whistling in the early morning gusts suggested alterations.
Kermesse Sport, the organizer for many of the spring classics, brought Hell of Hunterdon back for 2022. After losing the initial date, the event was swapped out to a later weekend. The ride showcased two distances - seventy-eight and fifty-three mile options - that featured some of the most iconic unpaved roads around Hunterdon County, New Jersey. Having ridden in awful weather the day before, the rider and bike set sights on the shorter route in hopes of rolling over new mileage. Riding into a stiff headwind alone, I departed into the 2022 Hell of Hunterdon course with curiosity and excitement.
Predictably unpredictable, the route had to be altered on account of storm damage from the previous fall. Three bridges were gone, awaiting replacement. Roads were washed away in places. The opening miles along Hollow Road featured a slow climb out of Blawenburg, NJ, with a peaceful stream off to the right in the woods. At one point the stream’s banks declared massive erosion, showing it isn’t always so peaceful. Riding across a newly-paved portion of road, it was hardly a shock to see a house being renovated, no doubt having been washed away by the story told in the opening miles. It was no surprise that the route was taken all the way into the sleepy hamlet of Zion before turns were made and the first gravel sector took the stage.
Shortly after the rest stop I had a sudden craving for fries, and here this sign popped up. Kermesse Sport has attention to detail in unique areas.
Having spent the previous day rolling in the muddy, oversaturated sectors of Lehigh County the day before, there was a curiosity as to the conditions of Hunterdon County gravel sectors. Each one, despite having endured a week of rain, was as pristine as could be. The sectors were compact with quick dampness. Even hitting Rocktown Road, my personal favorite gravel sector anywhere, was in a dreamlike state despite the gusty headwind. Only two other riders had been seen by this point, and even the gravel sectors betrayed little wear on whether three hundred riders passed through yet.
The long and medium route deviated shortly after a little town called Ringoes. Here is where new miles were scooped up. New Jersey may have accidentally set out to create roads with fun zig-zags, but I enjoyed the quick right-left on Garboski Road as it paralleled train tracks. The road embraced the autumn feel as dark clouds swirled overhead. Throughout the ride the low rumble of wind blowing through naked trees created soothing white noise. The smell of burn piles and fireplaces reinforced the notion that this was actually late November and not early April. Rain mixed with snow traded off with beams of sunlight. This new road displayed all this phenomena and I was grateful.
The flags of Belgium flap in the wind while I reached the finish line.
A left turn onto Bowne Station Road sent the route under the train tracks I had been following. From the road a sign along the tracks advised “Observe Rule 98.” I wondered if there was a cycling rule 98. (There isn’t. They end at rule 95.) The route easily accessed the forever propane smelling town of Mount Airy, leaving us to remember the road for easy access into the center of New Jersey riding.
Shortly after this waypoint, it was decided to head home and trim the southern portion of the route. Rain was picking up and a delicious tailwind plus a mostly downhill road back into Hopewell, NJ, beckoned. Sure enough hell subsided, perhaps the purgatory had been burnt off. Maybe the rain had tempered the heat of hell. Regardless, the ride back to the start was uncharacteristically easy. It was the best way to end the short course of the Hell of Hunterdon- by shortening it. Even the desire to find some hot cider lingered as I continuously fooled myself it was autumn.
The car loaded up, the head blasted, the windshield wipers clearing the falling rain, the event was reflected as a peaceful outing. What a difference from 2018 when people were fighting to get under the first wave banner ready to send a thousand cyclists into Hunterdon hills. This was the twelfth running of the Hell of Hunterdon, in which I had ridden in eleven. This year’s ride will come with an asterisk. Until this year I had rode every mile offered. The road to normal has been an uphill grind, but it is not formidable. Covering new roads on a decades-old route is quite an accomplishment. Making it feel like autumn when it’s really spring, that’s a whole new level.
