The registration and start areas for any ride provide similar experiences the world over.
The search for a good spot to lean the bike, the cleated waddle across the tarmac, names repeated and then spelled out as helpful volunteers scan sign-in sheets and then hand over safety pins and numbers, standing in line for the facilities, pinning on of numbers.
Then outside to sit nervously on top tubes, eye up bikes and riders, fiddle with Garmins, shout hellos to familiar faces or strike up conversation with strangers and discuss whether this is your first time doing this one, alarm times, how many tubes are being carried, sandbag your fitness and ponder what the weather's going to do.
At the Hell of Hunterdon on Saturday it was the usual story with a Belgian twist as Flemish and Walloon flags tugged in the breeze against a blue sky, last-minute fuel came in the form of stroopwafels and the guy in the magnificent pink woolen Merckx jersey caught the eye.
The day looked lovely and out of the wind it was. On the road it was chilly.
Brian Ignatin of Kermesse set out to create an event that is challenging, but doable, for serious recreational cyclists and amateur racers and the start line crowd certainly looked pretty serious and up for the challenge.
The guy on the PA system at the Princeton Elks Lodge in Blawenburg, NJ, issued repeated reminders that we were riding not racing, but the sideways glances and chuckles exposed a competitive undercurrent.
In retrospect I was probably "under-biked" on my Lynskey with 25mm tires, though, unlike many others, I got round without any mechanicals or punctures.
The first major gravel section claimed five or six victims, which is a hell of a strike rate given that I went out in the the first wave of 100-150. Even more common than punctures were lost bottles as they rattled free of cages on the rough stuff.
Most of the ride is on quiet country roads with only the event's moto support outriders buzzing past. There are no massive mountains, but frequent short sharp climbs, some gravel, up and over the region's ridges to test the legs and force up the heart rate. It is pretty country and a great setting, especially under a blue sky, for some spring suffering.
Once the first climbs were reached the wave broke apart and the usual routine of individual climbing struggles followed by regrouping once the road flattened again.
It became clear that there were plenty of very fit people who were happy to chat away effortlessly catching up with buddies while the rest of us wheezed and groaned around the New Jersey countryside.
I was lucky enough to fall in with and get a tow from the Hilltop Bicycles guys for the middle section of the course (check out the drone video on the Hilltop Facebook page) for which I am very thankful.
There were also gravel sections were you had to try very hard to stay upright.
Early on, I had a couple of scares when carrying a bit too much speed onto loose dirt. It was clear my gravel mojo was not fully functional. If those scares could be filed under "oh, could have lost it there" then later on there were two sections of deep stones which fall under the "Holy ****, how did I not come off!?!?" category.
Using Strava to compare 2016 to my 2015 outing tells a story.
Overall I was about 20 minutes quicker in terms of moving time and half an hour in total. I was faster in almost every flat or uphill sector and slower on almost every descent!
Tired smiles abounded amid the chatter of crashes narrowly avoided, incidents recounted, excuses proffered, excuses laughed at, punctures, pain suffered and the relief of the finish, as carbs were washed down by beer from sponsor Weyerbacher Brewing from Easton, PA.
Next up from Kermesse are the Fool's Classic in tribute to Ronde Van Vlaanderen on April 23 and the Ardennes-esque Fleche Buffoon on April 30.
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