Events: Hell of Hunterdon 2025
Through the middle portion of Kermesse Sport’s Hell of Hunterdon, I rehearsed sentences for this article. Up to that point I was disciplined in my nutrition. I had enjoyed a significant tailwind out of the southeast. The relatively dry start to the day had fluctuated on gobbish rain drops or cold misting and drizzle. As I rehearsed my sentences, in what was expected to be a headwind, I realized my words were not coming back to me. The 2025 Hell of Hunterdon may have thrown me respite in supplying marginal headwind conditions on the return leg.
A whole handful of maple nutrition courtesy of Untapped.
The Hell of Hunterdon is a gateway event for cyclists in the northeast. It unofficially starts the road riding season. While gravel has exploded in popularity, the Hell of Hunterdon has been mostly accomplished atop a road bike. This year was no exception. The asphalt bike was outfitted with Cadex Classics tires, the perfect tubeless set up for the 80-mile day that covered thirteen unpaved sectors. This year’s Hell of Hunterdon was my return to the long course. Amidst the waning miles I cobbled words to form sentences while in disbelief at my elongated tailwind benefit.
The Hell of Hunterdon was ushered in with proper spring classics weather. Initially believing I was overdressed, I did not take the legwarmers and fleece lined long sleeve jersey for granted. The gravel descents were firmed up by the recent precipitation, making them more predictable than last autumn’s drought-ridden dust paths. I concluded I had nailed my attire amidst the 45 degree (8 Celcius) and persistent moisture conditions.
The weather likely contributed to the lighter turnout for 2025. Rain was predicted days in advance. Event organizers suggested riders come to the reception area of the Princeton Elks Lodge in Blawenburg, NJ, with a backpack of clothes to change into. Much of my day was spent with empty roads and a phantom rider ahead, often identifiable only by the blinking rear light. The weather has not been kind to the Hell of Hunterdon, leading to its last minute cancellation last year. This year’s experience was tame.
One of the longer climbs on the Hell of Hunterdon course includes Pine Hill Road which gets steeper beyond the crest.
What I rehearsed through those miles was admiration for the Hell of Hunterdon’s ability to capture Hunterdon County. Hunterdon County is one of the most affluent in the country. Adjacent to the Delaware River, the county manages numerous gravel roads and the only covered bridge in northern Jersey. At one point movement in the woods caught my attention. Not knowing what it was, I want to point out Hunterdon County has a healthy black bear population. Meanwhile the route popped in and out of hamlets and towns. As soon as we entered the enclave of Harbourton, NJ, named after a schoolteacher from the early 1800s, we were back out in a rural setting within Hopewell Township.
Upper Creek Road is one of the most northern points on the Hell of Hunterdon course.
The stars of the Hell of Hunterdon are the gravel sectors. Each sector has its own personality. Dutchtown Zion Road, the first sector, takes riders from pristine black top to an abrupt unpaved segment. It is followed immediately by Montgomery Road’s reverse order of an uphill unpaved sector into a roaring paved descent. Stony Brook Road’s secluded gravel feels haunted while Rocktown Road’s perfect texture could be mistaken for a British farm road snaking through stone walls. I ripped down Stompf Tavern’s gravel, past an apprehensive rider, letting my bike do its thing along the knife edge of a drop off. My confidence soared in the second half of the route.
Though the participants were spaced out, the enjoyable aspect about the Hell of Hunterdon are the interactions. Both rest stops for the long course were manned by the most polite volunteers, tucking their chins and their fists into their jackets under EZ UP tents as the rain played games. Given the amount of people seen fishing, I asked one volunteer if today was the opening day for trout. No one knew.
It was when I cleared the course, checked out with control, and asked a lone participant if any other seat was taken at his table, that I assembled my new sentences to sum up the event. I never got his name, but he told me it was his first Hell of Hunterdon. He was from Upstate New York and was staying with his sister. Our conversation continued. Both of us inquired about each other’s spring calendar. As it turns out, he plans to be at Battenkill Race in five weeks. I passed along the Black Fly since it was in his area. Shortly after we enjoyed both the catered food and Flying Fish beer we said our so-longs. There I remained in the Elks Lodge while other riders headed over the horizon to their cars.
The Kingwood United Methodist Church was the site of the first rest stop on the long course at mile 36.
To come back to Hell of Hunterdon was coming home. I’ve lost count how many of Hell of Hunterdons I have ridden, which means I cannot add up how many miles I’ve accumulated around Hunterdon County with a number pinned or a participant bracelet. But I love this event.
I kept coming back to a motivational thought I heard recently from a cycling show - each event has multiple ups and downs. Some years the Hell of Hunterdon absolutely had my number. Even this year, considered a success, I entertained the shortcut options, if only briefly. This year’s Hell of Hunterdon was a win, and hopefully next year all the former participants come home to ride the Hunterdon hills amidst the mid-New Jersey spring weather. Luckily I didn’t lose those words to the wind.
