Today we rode west along the south coast of Lake Erie. We are still in New York; I didn’t realize so much of the coast of Lake Erie was still in New York State. Parts were pretty, but basically it was just looking down the road and making miles go by. I realize that this is the first time in decades that I wake up in the morning and have essentially only one thing to do all day. Biking for so many hours is sort of hypnotic; that can be dangerous when you are biking on a busy road with trucks wizzing by.
We are biking in and out of Seneca Indian reservations. Even without the signs the difference is obvious; the houses change from incredibly ornate seasonal beach houses to trailers and houses in disrepair.
Tomorrow is the longest day so far; 97 miles, still along the coast of Lake Erie.
Today we biked around 50 miles in total distance but not far in our westward journey. We crossed into Canada at the Kingston-Lewiston Bridge, rode the parkway to Niagara Falls, and took the Maid of the Mist boatride into the middle of the Canadian falls. I did this a decade or more before with my family, but the power of the falls is still exhilarating. It was raining most of the day, so the water from the falls just blended into the day.
The contrast between border security on the Canadian and on the US side was interesting. On the way into Canada, a Canadian border security agent opened up a lane for us, was interested in our trip, and in general facilitated our crossing. On the way back across the Peace Bridge, construction made it difficult for bikes and pedestrians to cross. Half of us were shepherded across the bridge by a Canadian agent; the other half came slightly later, tried to go through the auto lanes as there were no other options, and were cursed at by US agents for not going through the non existent bike lanes. Oh well.
Tomorrow we start along the coasts of the great lakes through Ohio and Indiana.
Today we spent the entire day cycling west on the Erie Canal, from Spencerport to Lockport, about 53 miles away. Sounded like an easy day, but the path was in terrible shape, so it was mostly like mountain biking with skinny tires. Fell 4 times, and am stiffening up sitting as I write this. The canal is beautiful, but I’m glad to be moving on. I was again struck by how many draw bridges there were across this section of the canal, each with at least two workers, and all waiting for the very occasional pleasure craft to pass through. It is certainly nice for folks with big boats, but I continue to wonder about the economics of it all.
We are staying tonight at a Lutheran church; when we got here, volunteers were busy preparing dinner, and then started a shuttle to the local YMCA so we could shower. Finally getting hot, so that was much appreciated. It is remarkable how many people are volunteering time and effort to help this trip go forward.
Today we rode from Sodus Point to Spencerport, just west of Rochester. We spent 40 miles on the Erie Canal path. When I lived in Syracuse, the Erie Canal was a favorite place to bike, walk, and run. The western portion that we’ve been riding through is more functional; there are intermittent locks that allow large pleasurecraft to get from east of Rochester through to Lake Ontario, and then to the ocean via the St. Lawrence seaway. This costs New York State tax payers untold millions. Over 40 miles of riding and one large boat was going through the locks. Another reason why real estate tax in New York causes people to move away.
Riding along the canal in some ways is monotonous but in other ways incredibly interesting. There are areas that are highly touristed with funky shops and restaurants, others where new housing developments face the water, and still others which are as close as New York state gets to Appalachia. This time of year, as with the rest of New York State, everything is brilliant green.
Don’t forget, if you’re reading this blog, the ride is to benefit multiple sclerosis. If you are so moved, please visit the donation page or click here.
Today we biked from Pulaski (spoken PulaskI) to Sodus Point, a beautiful spot on Lake Ontario. This is an area called the Tug Hill Plateau, one of the snowiest areas in the US. When my son was in college in Potsdam, NY, driving to visit him in winter was a potential nightmare; a 2 hour trip could take 8. This time of year it is incredibly green, moderately hilly and almost completely farmland. 68 miles went by quickly, except for:
RIDING WHILE OLD
This is obviously not a novel finding, but riding 60-80 miles daily is a whole different story for a 67 year old than a 30 year old. At some point during the day, almost every point in your body hurts. Some are old familiar aches, and some are new ones. They migrate, can seem disabling for a short while, then fade away (usually). I don’t remember this from decades ago. And then there’s the “when you gotta go, you gotta go” phenomenon. This may be TMI, but it is a significant part of the ride. Doesn’t preclude enjoyment, but it certainly emphasizes one’s mortality.
Today we biked from Old Forge west. After a 20 mile beautiful ride along the Moose River, we took a right and were immediately out of the Adirondacks. The transition was sudden; from deep woods, lakes and rivers everywhere to rolling farmland. The weather was gorgeous, for the first time. High 60s, blue sky, perfect biking conditions. There were enough rolling hills to account for about 3000 feet of climbing, but 77 miles were actually pretty easy.
We stopped in Osceola for lunch; the diner owner was talking about his daughter, who was a graduate student at Upstate Medical University who had her career ruined by a scientific misconduct case. Turns out I knew her, and was the chair of the committee that investigated the misconduct. Brought back old times, though not in a good way. She ended up teaching at Le Moyne College in Syracuse, but completely turned away from a research career. An uncomfortable interaction all around. The restaurant owner also was reminiscing about other Upstate scandals, including the conviction of the president, COO, and others. Although today was a perfect upstate NY day weather-wise, the conversation was a great reminder of why I decided to leave. Tonight we are staying in another church; I’m camped outside hoping not to hear the snoring.
On Tuesday, we left Middleberry, Vermont and biked to Lake Champlain where we took a small cable ferry across the lake to New York State. We went through Ticonderoga and then started going up the Adirondacks. It turns out that the Adirondacks are actually a large plateau with mountains perched on top of it. We biked about 1500 feet up to get to the plateau and then the grade mellowed out and we biked passed lakes, rivers, and streams. It rained all afternoon, which has been the pattern since the beginning of the ride. Ultimately we landed at Newcomb, New York in Hamilton County, which is one of two New York counties completely inside the Adirondack Park. We stayed in a small Catholic church. The pastor is 78 and is caring for a diminished flock. He says he will do this for as long as he can and when he dies or is unable to perform his functions, the church will close. It seems like a microcosm of Central New York; people leave, and institutions get smaller and ultimately disappear.
Today we continued biking through the Adirondacks. It’s incredible how different the three mountain ranges that we have passed through are. The White Mountains of New Hampshire were the most sheer and rocky, the Green Mountains were green as expected but quite steep, and the Adirondacks are much more gentle and there are lakes everywhere you look. We stopped at Old Forge, which I learned got its name from its mining past. This region was extensively mined for iron but not terribly successfully as the iron was impure. The impurity turned out to be titanium which was used in the construction of submarines and airplanes during World War II.
So, I’ve been biking for 6 days, starting in Bar Harbor and now in Middlebury, VT, 382 miles away. Last night we stopped in Thetford, VT. Thetford has 2617 people living in it; one resident is a young mom with MS, and seemingly the whole community welcomed us in their community center. Signs encouraged us up the hill to the village, and we were greeted with warmth, drinks and snacks, followed by an amazing potluck dinner with each dish made by a different community member. Vegan and gluten free riders were of course accommodated. I spoke with one couple with small children; she has MS and is being treated with the most current of agents. He has a PhD from the University of Chicago in radiation physics, and is working at Dartmouth, 20 miles away. It’s a little jarring to think that this community, which seems remote and isolated from much of the world (no cell service, no internet, one general store open a couple of hours a day) is less than 30 minutes from a major university medical center. I had a hard time understanding what life would be like here, especially in the winter, but everyone I met seemed unreservedly happy.
The biking has been probably a bit easier than I expected, at least so far. Two days ago, we climbed 4600 feet over 77 miles; hard but doable. Yesterday was a relative snap at 50 miles and 3000 feet. Today we biked 68 miles in a cold rain, up the Middlebury Pass which ends with a 12% grade. Physically harder than anything I’ve done before, but I made my way up the hill. The group is incredibly heterogenous, with respect to athletic abilities, age, personality, past lives. Everyone over 50 is retired except for one other fellow who is actively trying to do so; the younger people are teachers and others who have had a variety of jobs without a clear next move. However, all of them feel that they are providing an important service by being on this ride. There is also an amazing lack of barriers between age groups; there is no older social group vs younger, and biking abilities cross age boundaries so that people ride with different partners virtually every segment.
The countryside has been pretty much as expected; I’ve been this way before, and so the hills, greenery, mountains, and small roads are much the same as that stored in memory. However, biking gives you sudden glimpses you might not have appreciated in a car. A covered bridge, or cows running across the road herded by a farmer in an ATV, or hills so steep that it is terrifying to bike down even though they wouldn’t be noticed as unusual in a car.
63 days of biking left; at this point, I’m anticipating the experiences to come. Given the number of repeat riders in the group, I’m wondering whether at the end of this I will feel that the experience is complete or if I will be planning my next ride. I guess I’ll see.
Jeremy Bikes NEALS 30th Anniversary Ride 