Ted describes the NYC cycling scene succinctly; ‘race, race, race’. Lucia sees it as ‘diverse, passionate and defiant’. Steph agrees on the diversity, saying there is much more representation compared to the rest of the white male dominated world of cycling. They all agree, however, that the best thing about NYC riding is the community. No matter what type of cyclist you are, you will find your tribe. And the truth is, these days, people often float between the packs – one day urban masher, next day crit racer and, increasingly, wayward weekend adventurer.

Enter the Catskills. When people hear of the Catskills they usually think of Woodstock. Perhaps you’ve heard of that small music festival that happened back in 1969. The actual festival took place in the town of Bethel but that’s another story. Head another 60 miles further north west of Bethel and you’ll reach the small town of Bovina. The clue is in the name – this is remote, rolling countryside. ‘Farmland for days’ as Steph said. And Bovina is indeed bovine, with our beefy friends literally everywhere, outnumbering humans and profiting from the great outdoors just as we were about to.

Dissecting the green spaces are smooth paved rollercoaster roads and shooting off to criss-cross the fields and dive into the forests are crisp gravel doubletracks, or ‘groads’ as they are known in these parts. A friend, Nik, had recently built a cabin on top of Bramley Mountain, just north of Bovina's centre, and had offered it up as a ride base for the weekend. “Magical” is how he described it, which is certainly the case for Steph who arrives for the start of the weekend just as the burnt red sun rests on the horizon.

With hammocks slung under the awning of the cabin, focus turns to the riding, and more particularly, to the forecast. Around the campfire, comparing weather reports reveals that rain would be the theme for the weekend. But what becomes apparent amongst the group is that competitive racing backgrounds breed tenacity. No-one will let a little water get in the way of this city escape – there is too much on offer right outside the front door, including the ridiculously steep ‘groad’ driveway leading to it.

Sunset was not followed by sunrise, as a blanket of fog seemed to stop the big yellow ball getting out of bed. Ted helped lift any mental fog with some AeroPress coffee and wheels were turning in no time. A big day on the saddle was planned – a short distance at 48 miles but 5,800 ft. of climbing, most of which would be on dirt roads. At least that’s what was hoped for. Google street view hasn’t made it out this far west so a bit of guesswork was involved.

But the rain…..A couple of miles in and the trio were completely soaked and freezing - wishing for that heatwave they’d gladly left behind in the city. Logic prevailed, and shelter was sought. The good thing is low density does not mean fewer options. The Catskills have been a NYC escape destination for over half a century and it has the culture and the cuisine to show for it. As evidenced by Russell’s General Store - a Bovina staple since it opened back in 1919.

A second round of coffee and a proper big breakfast and things risked getting too comfortable. After a couple of hours the downpour had reduced itself to constant drizzle so there was no option but to continue even if bib shorts were still on the damp side. The trio crawling out from the café like the little orange newts that Lucia found adventuring out of the grass and onto the road. Steph can add a new species to her weekend of wildlife discoveries.

Another discovery was the dirt. Half way round the route and faces are speckled with mud and backs stained from the wet unpaved roads. It’s not just kit and bikes that suffer – the soft red clay mud requires a lot of power to make progress. The topography might be rolling, but like the Ardennes or the Strada Bianche, that also means some steep ramps are hidden in the folds.

The second half of the ride was more mud slinging than gravel grinding. But suddenly – finally - the sun came out, just in time for the planned stop at Wayside Cider to stay true to the farmland theme. With craft brews and artisanal food on offer, the five mile climb back up Bramley Mountain to the cabin was always going to be the hardest part of the day’s pedalling.

Day one had been due south, so obviously day two was a loop to discover what lay in the opposite direction. The sun was out and the weather was looking promising. The thought of riding in dry kits got everyone excited. However, dark clouds suddenly appeared as soon as the descent down Bramley was done. A light drizzle then turned into a downpour

It was time to talk tactics on how to endure the weather. Riding on Highway 10, the discussion focused on whether the paved road or the nearby rail trail was the better option. The debate was settled by a German Shepherd. Clearly feeling his farm was at threat by three non-bovine beings, he charged the group. A sprint ensued, and thankfully the dog gave up first.

The effort helped open up the legs for the cyclocross style ride over the rutted rail trail. More mud required more power and concentration to pick a line. Which meant the weather became a secondary concern. The benefits of all road riding are many. And the scenic trail arrived back at the bottom of Bramley, of course, as soon the sun came out to shine on the last climb of the weekend.

The drive home to the city was broken up by a visit to the famous Phoenica Diner, whose owners transplanted themselves into the natural beauty and nearer to the great ingredient box of the Catskills back in the 80s. That raised the question about moving from the city to the wide open spaces. The consensus is the trio could never leave their beloved NYC. Lucia gets her energy from the city, and tomorrow morning it’s going to be needed – being wet for almost 48hours somehow saps a lot of energy.

But rain and mud aside, Nik was absolutely right. Bovina is quite a magical place.