Created in 2006, a satirical lifestyle cycling blog aimed to promote Ohio Valley Cycling, Trail Advocacy and Junior Development written by Joe Bellante, a racer for BioWheels in Cincinnati and freelance writer who's work has appeared in Velonews, XXC and Cyclocross Magazines. Thanks for reading.
A handful of riders were polled.What makes a good group road ride?They answered: a steady pace, the “best”
riders in town, a challenging route.Obviously those 5 riders skewed the results by having Bath Salts in their
water bottles.I’d answer with road rarity,
pleasant conversation, good friends, animal sightings, blue skies, temperature
in the mid 70’s, low humidity, great views, and a small general store.If you said average speed, few stops or
anything having to do with physically riding the bike, you need to stop
treating your bathroom as a pantry.
Rolling To Visalia on Decoursey Pike in Kenton Co. KY
like I missed a good one yesterday,” Mitch, the owner of BioWheels bike shop, said
to me Monday night. “Yeah. Great route.
Nice pace.” I tossed back too quickly.
Before my Bath Salt brain could dig for specifics, the phone rang. Mitch answered. I finished the conversation in my head as I concentrated
on wrapping my wife’s handlebars with new
tape and getting the spacing just right, no visible logos. I’m thinking maybe it was the chat
at the Visalia convenience store’s picnic table that made the ride so special. I’m not sure what it was about, but it was
light hearted, definitely not politics or even a hint of negativity. Then I remembered the turn off the beaten
path up a road called Moffett in rural Kenton County Kentucky. To date, there are only 4 people on the
Moffett Strava Segment KOM list, all of them on Sunday’s ride. The climb crested at a farm with two horses
at the fence, one umbrella tree an infinite amount of green rolling hills.
people rave about the Hyde Park Kroger grocery store with an in-house Starbucks,
Sushi chef and wine tasting bar. While
the price tag of the designer jeans and shades of Eastside shoppers may rival
the carbon fashion show I see on the Wednesday night ride, the best cycling
food stops have no aisles. There’s
nothing better than leaning your bike under a hand painted sign that reads “General
Store” and hearing your cleats clop across boot-worn splintering hardwood
floors. You better bring cash. They make change from a lock box. If they do take credit cards, the scanner is
the analog beep-booop-beee type. Better
yet, they don’t sell gas. In our area I’m
partial to the Claysville and Rabbit Hash General Stores. It’s a well earned 2 hour ride to either. Third on my list is the store we stopped at
Sunday in Visalia where 536 crosses the Licking River. While it’s not as historic, far away or
nostalgic, it has a picnic table out front.
If you approach from the South, it comes as a nice highlight at the end
of a two mile one lane road that parallels the railroad tracks called “Vises
Trail.” Sunday, we took the turn off
under the bridge and raced the train as its whistle screamed loud enough to
raise goose bumps on my legs.
Technically, it is a barn.
Even after living here for 12 years, a former cheesehead,
Kentucky horse farms still hold a mystique for me. The horse farm on Sunday’s ride was small
compared to those outside of Lexington.
There you’ll see horses along the white roadside fence with gorgeous shiny
brass bridals, some even with their name on them. In the distance, the freshly painted wooden
fencing leads to an exquisite barn that makes your suburban home look like a refrigerator
box under an overpass. Periodically,
you’ll see horses with hoods over their heads, ghost horses. At first glance it seems a little cruel their
eyes are covered up. Yesterday the
horses didn’t have hoods and their whole heads were swarming with flies. I learn something every time. The two, one brown one black, were grazing
under a tree near the top of the Moffett Road climb. It was the only patch of shade in their
corral. I felt bad our presence made
them shy away and saunter into the sun.
Still it was gorgeous. We were on
top of a ridgeline, horses in the foreground and a sea of soft green hills and
valleys in every direction.