The ride back from Bar Harbor was much better than the ride into Bar Harbor. my legs had two days of rest and were feeling great. They did have to be conditioned a little bit, but after an hour or two they felt like rocks again and performed like machines. I learned from my mistakes coming into Bar Harbor and just enjoyed the ride. It went much faster and I enjoyed myself that much more. Riding 90 miles that day felt like 20. Time went by so fast, it was really enjoyable again.
Around 5:20 I entered Camdon, ME, got some ice cream, and walked to a tavern I visited on my way up north. They had really good pizza and beer last time I was there, so it was n obvious call in my book. Like always, I headed for the bar. No, not because I love to drink, but because when you are own you own, you can always expect a fun time sitting at the bar. People are usually interested in why you are alone and want to hear your story. If not, you can always keep a conversation with the bar tender. That's always a a good time, and if not there's usually a TV tuned to Sports Center.
Sitting at the bar to my right were these three scruffy looking guys. They looked a lot like I look, so we started talking. I guess it followed the "Similar to Me" relationship most people have in new places. They asked me what my deal was and I the same. What I learned though, was that these guys had just sailed from Key West. They were the crew on some guys boat and this was one of two stops they had made. Apparently the engine on the Sail Boat needed repairs this time, and the last time they had stopped in NJ for fuel and supplies. That's Awesome! They said that the weather was mostly nice, but a few days they had about 34 knot head winds and they only were going about 2 mph for a long time. That sucks, but the trip sounded Awesome. I would love to sail like that, just think of how incredible that would be. Maybe that's my next trip........?
So after a few local beers, pasta, garlic bread, a salad, and the check I headed about ten more miles to my cap site. Turned out that it was a nascar sponsored one so it was expensive. Somewhere like $31 for a crappy tent location. My average is about $7 with electricity, wi-fi, and water. This place sucked. Thank God there wasn't a nascar event anytime soon or I would have went nuts. It was quite however, so I can't complain. It was also a nice night allowing me to sleep without the rain fly over my tent. I wasn't worried about the due in the morning since I was sleeping on dirt, and I checked the weather to make sure it wasn't going to rain. Although there was a canopy of trees above my head, there was a show put on for my by the local fire flys. They blinked on and off creating an effect of blinking and shooting stars. It was really pleasant to fall asleep to.
Waking up was a bit chilly, but I was off again and making great time. I called Katie a few times that day (today) because it was (is) her last day at cosmetology school ever. Her mom specifically booked her the entire day, which I thought was really nice. She's usually booked by a bunch of people anyway so to have her mom for the day seemed to be a good change of pace. Congratulations Katie!
That day went really fast as well. I knew I was going to see my old roommate that night, and the next day we were going to brewery hop around the state. Best of all, I was going to ride in a car for the first time in about 3 weeks. "That's going to be weird". My last stop was in Freeport, ME just north of Portland. The campground was called "The Desert of Maine" so tell me, how could that not be promising. When I got there I learned that glaciers deposited a whole hell of a lot of sand in this region, and about 100 years ago farmers here over worked the land, exposing the sand. Ever since then sand has been taking over the area and now covers over 200 acres. It is really strange to walk from this lush forest into this massive sand dune, and back to the lush forest. Really weird. The sand reaches more than 20 feet tall in some areas and has covered a house that stood near the natural creek. The campground also houses the original barn from the farm dated back to 1749 (I believe that's the right last two digits). The barn is still held together by the same wooden pegs and still has the original farm equipment inside. It is really cool.
Okay, back to present tense. Finally. I have no service here. Joe is currently driving here and even though he has a GPS and the address, this place is tricky to find. It's tucked away on a dead end street with barely any markings. Trust me. I was going about 5mph on my bike, in broad day light, and it's still hard to find. My tent location is even more difficult to see. I am tucked awake in the back of the camp ground, down this trail, and perched above a little cliff overlooking the natural spring. Haha, let's see how Joe does.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
A chance of showers with a week long forcast of breweries
Bar Harbor was a blast. The city was really cool and my dad was right. If you aren't dressed from head to toe in Patagonia you don't fit in. Luckily I looked like one of the locals. Unshaven, cargo zip pants, hiking shoes, and mostly all Patagonia. The people in the bars were super friendly, and the food was all around amazing. Even the pizza was really good. One man even bought me a beer because of what I was doing. He loved the fact that I just did it for no reason other than to do it. We talked for a while, mostly about the trip and eventually about breweries. He told me to visit Gritty's Brew Pub and to tell the guys that he sent me. He knew the owner and played golf with him frequently.
I didn't sight-see as much as I thought I would. I was just too damn tired. I mostly walked around the town for two days, and took naps in various places. My favorite place to nap was on this grassy knoll overlooking the harbor. It was great watching the various yachts and lobster boats cruse in and out. It was very soothing. I really wanted to go sea kyaking, but it was quite windy both days I was there and I didn't feel like putting a lot of effort into it. I wanted to just float for a while around the coast, not really do any work, and relax. 10-15 mph winds seemed like they would make that plan difficult. Whatever though, I'll do it next time. I'm definitely coming back to Bar Harbor. The place is just hands down perfect.
Leaving Bar Harbor was hard. I had so much fun relaxing there and walking around I did not want to leave. While I was there though my last roommate from Michigan State and I got to talking. He had just came back from a cruse and was jealous of my trip. Originally he thought I was nuts, but he admitted to it sounding really cool and something that he would have liked to do. At this point in my trip I felt as thought I had completed everything I wanted. I conquered the hardest portion of the Northern Tier and did it with great time. Every Cyclist I have talked to has been shocked I made it to Bar Harbor from Detroit in 18 days. "You must have just flown!" they would say. I was tired, sick of riding so much, and wanted to take a break. So when my roommate Joe and I got to talking I suggested that he drive up here and we take a brewery tour of Maine.
I got the Idea when I was at the Bar Harbor Brewery. I saw this little pamphlet that had all 25 Maine brewery locations on it. I thought that it would be really cool to go visit all 25. Plus, if you do all 25, with signatures from each, you get a prize from the Maine Brewers Association. Joe was the first person to show me how to extract brew, so it was almost an instantaneous "YES". He just had to make sure he had some things in order and he would get back to me. It didn't take long for him to say that he was in and that he would be leaving in two days.
Our plan would be to circle the state and hit all 25 breweries, then move down the east cost to Boston, if we have time, to get more breweries under our belt. Joe also suggested that because we both want to own a brewery one day that we should see if we could write this off as an R&D expense. I mean, hey it's worth a shot right? We technically are going from place to place to discover what and what does not work, which is a form of research. One place we do want to go is the Dogfish Head Brew Pub. Unlike the major Brewery, the Brew Pub has a lot of test beers and exotic creations. Ever since their show on Discover Channel, which was great by the way, Joe and I have been wanting to visit. It just looks like a whole lot of fun.
I didn't sight-see as much as I thought I would. I was just too damn tired. I mostly walked around the town for two days, and took naps in various places. My favorite place to nap was on this grassy knoll overlooking the harbor. It was great watching the various yachts and lobster boats cruse in and out. It was very soothing. I really wanted to go sea kyaking, but it was quite windy both days I was there and I didn't feel like putting a lot of effort into it. I wanted to just float for a while around the coast, not really do any work, and relax. 10-15 mph winds seemed like they would make that plan difficult. Whatever though, I'll do it next time. I'm definitely coming back to Bar Harbor. The place is just hands down perfect.
Leaving Bar Harbor was hard. I had so much fun relaxing there and walking around I did not want to leave. While I was there though my last roommate from Michigan State and I got to talking. He had just came back from a cruse and was jealous of my trip. Originally he thought I was nuts, but he admitted to it sounding really cool and something that he would have liked to do. At this point in my trip I felt as thought I had completed everything I wanted. I conquered the hardest portion of the Northern Tier and did it with great time. Every Cyclist I have talked to has been shocked I made it to Bar Harbor from Detroit in 18 days. "You must have just flown!" they would say. I was tired, sick of riding so much, and wanted to take a break. So when my roommate Joe and I got to talking I suggested that he drive up here and we take a brewery tour of Maine.
I got the Idea when I was at the Bar Harbor Brewery. I saw this little pamphlet that had all 25 Maine brewery locations on it. I thought that it would be really cool to go visit all 25. Plus, if you do all 25, with signatures from each, you get a prize from the Maine Brewers Association. Joe was the first person to show me how to extract brew, so it was almost an instantaneous "YES". He just had to make sure he had some things in order and he would get back to me. It didn't take long for him to say that he was in and that he would be leaving in two days.
Our plan would be to circle the state and hit all 25 breweries, then move down the east cost to Boston, if we have time, to get more breweries under our belt. Joe also suggested that because we both want to own a brewery one day that we should see if we could write this off as an R&D expense. I mean, hey it's worth a shot right? We technically are going from place to place to discover what and what does not work, which is a form of research. One place we do want to go is the Dogfish Head Brew Pub. Unlike the major Brewery, the Brew Pub has a lot of test beers and exotic creations. Ever since their show on Discover Channel, which was great by the way, Joe and I have been wanting to visit. It just looks like a whole lot of fun.
Falling asleep that night I had fully intended to wake up the next morning, get in a car, and drive to Bar Harbor. The two brothers from England, Tommy and Johnny, seemed pretty cool and were more than happy to give me a ride. The most beautiful rides were behind me, the most challenging mountains were behind me, I wasn't missing anything, everything was great, that is, except one major thing.
I woke up the next morning with guilt. I felt as though I had cheated myself by accepting the car ride, and if I went though with it, I wouldn't be able to say "I biked to Bar Harbor, Maine from Detroit Michigan. There would always be an astris somewhere in there leading to the exception of the past 240 miles, or three days of hill riding. "THREE DAYS!" I yelled at myself! "You're going to give up now....really?! You have biked for two weeks and you're going to give up on a couple of days!?" I paced back and forth in my room waiting for the answer for about twenty minutes and then it hit me...much like a pillow...made of feathers...without a pillow case or anything to hold the feathers together really. It was a timid decision, but I chose to ride rather than drive.
When the brothers woke up I told them I wasn't going to take the offer after all. I wouldn't have waited for them to wake up, but my gear was already in their car. Their rental was a hatchback and we needed to see whether or not the bike would actually fit. The night before we went out to the car to test it out. For a while we manuvered the seats and the bike even more and once we got it, we decided to just keep the bike in there. We figured that it took us long enough to get the damn thing in the car, why go through it again? So when the brothers woke up and I told them that I had changed my mind, we ate breakfast and got all of my stuff out, said out goodbyes, and I took off. In hindsight, I should have considered The Clash before my decision because staying on my bike turned out to be double the work.
The next three days were, without a doubt, the worst days on my trip for my legs. Although there weren't any mountain climbs, the center of Maine is littered with lots of steep hills and add up to a lot. You never really have a break because you constantly climb 200 foot elevations over and over and over until you want to lie down, but you cant because it's not even noon yet and you still have more hills to do. Aside from the relentless steep hill climbs, the fact that I was now just trying to get to Bar Harbor instead of enjoying the ride really payed a major toll on my motivation. I found myself staring at the road more than my surroundings hoping that if I look at the road enough the ride won't seem as long. Doing that for 2 and a half days was really hard on me both mentally and physically.
My first real boost of energy came when I saw my first sign for Bar Harbor. My spirits lifted and my legs re-energized. The pain from 4 days of 80 mile riding in hills went away and I was racing for the finish. Even though I still had about 25 miles left, I was riding faster than before, and a genuine smile came on my face for the first time in what felt like forever.
Now this may be weird, but after riding for a full day, all I want is ice cream. I usually never eat ice cream, but when I am cycling my body just craves it. Maybe its the protein or just the fact that it reminds me of being young, but it's all I ever want. With only about 17 miles to go I came across this popular looking ice cream stand. There was a giant line out the door so I knew it was good. The only problem was that I was 17 miles from Bar Harbor and riding that far after a lot of ice cream is nothing I wanted to do. It took a lot of me to continue on and wait until I got to the Island. 15 miles to Bar Harbor. 10 miles to Bar Harbor. I even passed the freeking Atlantic Brewery just to get some God damn ice cream. Nothing could stop me now. I was determined to get some rum raisin one way or another, even if it meant buying a pint of vinella and a pint of rum. I was going to get my ice cream.
Once I checked into the hotel that my parents got me for making 1000 mile trip (THANK YOU SO MUCH) I went out on the town looking for my prize. I saw this couple holding toasted waffle cones filled with fresh delicious ice cream. I was close. They looked so happy and I needed that after these past few days. I held my cool as much as I could while asking them where they got their ice cream. The told me to go down the street, then make a left on the second block. I went down the street, counted 1 block, two blocks, turned left, AND THEY GAVE ME THE WRONG DIRECTIONS! WHY?! I came to this blocked off street with nothing on it, only a whole bunch of dirt and cement mixers. Thankfully when I came back to the main street I found some other people with ice cream and they led me in the right direction.
I basically ran into the ice cream store I was so excited. I was all ready for my rum raisin on a waffle cone, but right in front of me was a sign that said "Lobster Ice Cream!" With a bright red lobster painted on it. Like a dog when introduced to a new word I cocked my head to one side, and dropped my eye brows in wonder. "I must try this" I said aloud catching the attention of three children walking past me instigating the same look at me as I had at the sign with the "Lobster Ice Cream". We awkwardly glared at one another, me at the children, the children back at me, and then the children at each other, all with the same expression of confusion and wonder.
Once inside I ordered my double scoop of Rum Raisin in a waffle cone, but I tried the lobster ice cream as well. It was odd. Vanilla ice cream with chunks of lobster in it. It wasn't bad per se, but I would never order a whole serving of it. At the end of the day I was happy again. I had rum ice cream, I made it 1000 miles in 18 days, I freaked out some children, and I had a bed to sleep in. It was prefect.
I woke up the next morning with guilt. I felt as though I had cheated myself by accepting the car ride, and if I went though with it, I wouldn't be able to say "I biked to Bar Harbor, Maine from Detroit Michigan. There would always be an astris somewhere in there leading to the exception of the past 240 miles, or three days of hill riding. "THREE DAYS!" I yelled at myself! "You're going to give up now....really?! You have biked for two weeks and you're going to give up on a couple of days!?" I paced back and forth in my room waiting for the answer for about twenty minutes and then it hit me...much like a pillow...made of feathers...without a pillow case or anything to hold the feathers together really. It was a timid decision, but I chose to ride rather than drive.
When the brothers woke up I told them I wasn't going to take the offer after all. I wouldn't have waited for them to wake up, but my gear was already in their car. Their rental was a hatchback and we needed to see whether or not the bike would actually fit. The night before we went out to the car to test it out. For a while we manuvered the seats and the bike even more and once we got it, we decided to just keep the bike in there. We figured that it took us long enough to get the damn thing in the car, why go through it again? So when the brothers woke up and I told them that I had changed my mind, we ate breakfast and got all of my stuff out, said out goodbyes, and I took off. In hindsight, I should have considered The Clash before my decision because staying on my bike turned out to be double the work.
The next three days were, without a doubt, the worst days on my trip for my legs. Although there weren't any mountain climbs, the center of Maine is littered with lots of steep hills and add up to a lot. You never really have a break because you constantly climb 200 foot elevations over and over and over until you want to lie down, but you cant because it's not even noon yet and you still have more hills to do. Aside from the relentless steep hill climbs, the fact that I was now just trying to get to Bar Harbor instead of enjoying the ride really payed a major toll on my motivation. I found myself staring at the road more than my surroundings hoping that if I look at the road enough the ride won't seem as long. Doing that for 2 and a half days was really hard on me both mentally and physically.
My first real boost of energy came when I saw my first sign for Bar Harbor. My spirits lifted and my legs re-energized. The pain from 4 days of 80 mile riding in hills went away and I was racing for the finish. Even though I still had about 25 miles left, I was riding faster than before, and a genuine smile came on my face for the first time in what felt like forever.
Now this may be weird, but after riding for a full day, all I want is ice cream. I usually never eat ice cream, but when I am cycling my body just craves it. Maybe its the protein or just the fact that it reminds me of being young, but it's all I ever want. With only about 17 miles to go I came across this popular looking ice cream stand. There was a giant line out the door so I knew it was good. The only problem was that I was 17 miles from Bar Harbor and riding that far after a lot of ice cream is nothing I wanted to do. It took a lot of me to continue on and wait until I got to the Island. 15 miles to Bar Harbor. 10 miles to Bar Harbor. I even passed the freeking Atlantic Brewery just to get some God damn ice cream. Nothing could stop me now. I was determined to get some rum raisin one way or another, even if it meant buying a pint of vinella and a pint of rum. I was going to get my ice cream.
Once I checked into the hotel that my parents got me for making 1000 mile trip (THANK YOU SO MUCH) I went out on the town looking for my prize. I saw this couple holding toasted waffle cones filled with fresh delicious ice cream. I was close. They looked so happy and I needed that after these past few days. I held my cool as much as I could while asking them where they got their ice cream. The told me to go down the street, then make a left on the second block. I went down the street, counted 1 block, two blocks, turned left, AND THEY GAVE ME THE WRONG DIRECTIONS! WHY?! I came to this blocked off street with nothing on it, only a whole bunch of dirt and cement mixers. Thankfully when I came back to the main street I found some other people with ice cream and they led me in the right direction.
I basically ran into the ice cream store I was so excited. I was all ready for my rum raisin on a waffle cone, but right in front of me was a sign that said "Lobster Ice Cream!" With a bright red lobster painted on it. Like a dog when introduced to a new word I cocked my head to one side, and dropped my eye brows in wonder. "I must try this" I said aloud catching the attention of three children walking past me instigating the same look at me as I had at the sign with the "Lobster Ice Cream". We awkwardly glared at one another, me at the children, the children back at me, and then the children at each other, all with the same expression of confusion and wonder.
Once inside I ordered my double scoop of Rum Raisin in a waffle cone, but I tried the lobster ice cream as well. It was odd. Vanilla ice cream with chunks of lobster in it. It wasn't bad per se, but I would never order a whole serving of it. At the end of the day I was happy again. I had rum ice cream, I made it 1000 miles in 18 days, I freaked out some children, and I had a bed to sleep in. It was prefect.
Monday, June 20, 2011
2855
I would like to apologize for not blogging the past 4 or so days. I have gotten a lot of crap from my friends and family for not writing so I hope this one can make up for it.
4 days ago I woke up facing the hardest couple of days in my entire trip. I have been told by multiple cyclists on the road that the white mountains were the worst out of the entire Northern Tier. I knew that if I could handle the next few days I could do anything. It wasn't that the mountain was so high or that the degrees were so steep. The reason why the white mountains were so bad is because of the relentless steep hills after the Kankamagus Pass.
I knew I would be reaching the base of my 2400+ foot climb before noon so I loaded up on carbs. In the morning I had a cliff bar when I woke up, then about 30 minutes later I had a 1200 calorie sub from subway. One of the perks from this trip is that I can literally eat anything and as much of what I want, whenever I want it. People ask me every day "How can you eat that much, and then go bike? I don't think I would be able to do that. I'm pretty sure I would get sick". The answer, I have narrowed down to this. "It hurts for about 15 minutes, then you just get hungry again." Literally each time I have stopped I get asked that, and answer the same way, laughing each time. I think it still amuses me, even after all this time, because I still cant grasp how much I have to eat. It's crazy.
When I got to the base of the mountain I needed to eat again. I went to a local cafe and got a breakfast sandwich with extra everything, a v8 splash, chips, and a large chocolate milk. Roughly another 1100 calories. If you have been counting in your head that's approximately 2700 calories (don't forget the cliff bar) before noon. The only reason why I decided to count that day was to make sure I was getting enough food. I noticed I lost some weight and that is not what I wanted. I figure it is just something that is just going to happen, I just have to slow it as much as possible. I took a bit to digest, walked around the town, and get some more water and cliff bars. Time to climb.
I made it about half way up before I needed to stop. I dropped my head on my handlebars waiting for my heartbeat to slow down. I've gotten pretty good at controlling my breathing normally when doing extensive exercise, so I wasn't panting as much as I had in the bast, but my heartbeat was going a mile a minute. When my heart slowed back to normal I turned around and took this:
It would have been more beautiful if the black flys didn't decide to come back and screw with me the entire way. Ugh, I hate those things. When I got to the stop of the mountain I snapped this: Elevation 2855 feet.
Coming down was fun. (PLEASE as much as I appreciate all of your concern I already get enough from my parents I do not need more. Risks are fun and I'm going to take them). The way down was only a 7 degree, so it was a smooth nice ride. Nothing too fast. When I got to the bottom, after 4 miles of no pedaling (Awesome) I saw this turnoff for a white mountain trail. I felt as though I deserved a break from the climb so I turned off and walked around. Up ahead was a sign pointing for a waterfall about .3 miles away from me. That sounded fun so of course I went, and it didn't take long for me to ignore the "Do Not Swim" sign and jump right in. At the end of the little falls was this narrow 12 foot deep crevasse carved out by glaciers and that is where I jumped in. The water was freezing, but it was completely worth it. I have a video but it's too big to be uploaded. I also have a video of a fish hanging out in the falls water. It's pretty cool.
That night I stayed in my first hostel ever. My dad had told me about it while on the phone with him, but I really didn't want to pay a lot for a dorm room so I told him I wasn't going to do it. The reason why I stayed was because when I turned on a random street a little old woman with a lisp asked me if I was looking for the hostel. I couldn't say no.
The hostel experience was weird, but I met these two brothers from England. They seemed normal so we started talking over a few beers and it turned out they were about done with their 4 month trip around the US. After a bit of talking they offered me a ride of Bar Harbor. It would save me a few days of travel and the most beautiful parts of my ride to Bar Harbor was already behind me. So I accepted.
4 days ago I woke up facing the hardest couple of days in my entire trip. I have been told by multiple cyclists on the road that the white mountains were the worst out of the entire Northern Tier. I knew that if I could handle the next few days I could do anything. It wasn't that the mountain was so high or that the degrees were so steep. The reason why the white mountains were so bad is because of the relentless steep hills after the Kankamagus Pass.
I knew I would be reaching the base of my 2400+ foot climb before noon so I loaded up on carbs. In the morning I had a cliff bar when I woke up, then about 30 minutes later I had a 1200 calorie sub from subway. One of the perks from this trip is that I can literally eat anything and as much of what I want, whenever I want it. People ask me every day "How can you eat that much, and then go bike? I don't think I would be able to do that. I'm pretty sure I would get sick". The answer, I have narrowed down to this. "It hurts for about 15 minutes, then you just get hungry again." Literally each time I have stopped I get asked that, and answer the same way, laughing each time. I think it still amuses me, even after all this time, because I still cant grasp how much I have to eat. It's crazy.
When I got to the base of the mountain I needed to eat again. I went to a local cafe and got a breakfast sandwich with extra everything, a v8 splash, chips, and a large chocolate milk. Roughly another 1100 calories. If you have been counting in your head that's approximately 2700 calories (don't forget the cliff bar) before noon. The only reason why I decided to count that day was to make sure I was getting enough food. I noticed I lost some weight and that is not what I wanted. I figure it is just something that is just going to happen, I just have to slow it as much as possible. I took a bit to digest, walked around the town, and get some more water and cliff bars. Time to climb.
I made it about half way up before I needed to stop. I dropped my head on my handlebars waiting for my heartbeat to slow down. I've gotten pretty good at controlling my breathing normally when doing extensive exercise, so I wasn't panting as much as I had in the bast, but my heartbeat was going a mile a minute. When my heart slowed back to normal I turned around and took this:
Coming down was fun. (PLEASE as much as I appreciate all of your concern I already get enough from my parents I do not need more. Risks are fun and I'm going to take them). The way down was only a 7 degree, so it was a smooth nice ride. Nothing too fast. When I got to the bottom, after 4 miles of no pedaling (Awesome) I saw this turnoff for a white mountain trail. I felt as though I deserved a break from the climb so I turned off and walked around. Up ahead was a sign pointing for a waterfall about .3 miles away from me. That sounded fun so of course I went, and it didn't take long for me to ignore the "Do Not Swim" sign and jump right in. At the end of the little falls was this narrow 12 foot deep crevasse carved out by glaciers and that is where I jumped in. The water was freezing, but it was completely worth it. I have a video but it's too big to be uploaded. I also have a video of a fish hanging out in the falls water. It's pretty cool.
That night I stayed in my first hostel ever. My dad had told me about it while on the phone with him, but I really didn't want to pay a lot for a dorm room so I told him I wasn't going to do it. The reason why I stayed was because when I turned on a random street a little old woman with a lisp asked me if I was looking for the hostel. I couldn't say no.
The hostel experience was weird, but I met these two brothers from England. They seemed normal so we started talking over a few beers and it turned out they were about done with their 4 month trip around the US. After a bit of talking they offered me a ride of Bar Harbor. It would save me a few days of travel and the most beautiful parts of my ride to Bar Harbor was already behind me. So I accepted.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Day Off
I decided to take today off. My legs needed a little r&r before tomorrow mountains. One of which is going to be a 2400 foot vertical climb. Ohhh boy.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Long Trails
What is today Sunday, Monday? I'm too tired to remember anymore. It's my 13th day on the road and it has been one of my favorites so far. Just saying 13 days doesn't seem like a long time, but because I have been measuring the days in distance rather than time, it has felt like 800 miles and not 13 days. I left Middlebury fairly early and got some food, chatted with a Middlebury swimming and diving alum about cycling for a bit, and took off. The Green Mountains in Vermont, let me just say "Wow". The Greens were amazingly beautiful. Rock formations on either side of the road, streams turning into waterfalls every couple hundred feet, and beautiful mountains at every turn. If I were to compare the beauty of the Adirondacks and the Greens, I would say the green wins easy. True the Ads have more lakes, and you can see further to vast stretches of rolling hills, but there's something romantic about the Greens that the Adirondacks lack. For me at least.
They reminded me of back packing through the Wind River Range in Wyoming when I was a freshman in high school. There aren't a lot of people there, and that's how I like nature to be. Having tons of people disconnects you with your environment, and to not sound too much like a hippie, it disconnects you with the world. Now, don't worry, I'm not about to start meditating or anything, but when you are in an area that looks, smells, and feels like it did hundreds of years ago and you take a moment to let it all sink it, it is truly sublime. It is a great feeling, it really is.
Not too far into the Greens I came to my first major ascent. It was a 1500 foot vertical climb with parts reaching 12 degrees. I did not know that I was coming up to such a climb until I was 3/4 done with it. I was out of breath and I was pushing myself really hard. Eventually I stopped and was like "There has to be a top to this thing. I mean I feel like I've been climbing non stop". So I looked at my map and realized where I was. Duh. I got to the top, took in the sites for a bit, and began my descent. I wanted to just rocket down, but there was a lot of water on the cracked winding roads hugging the mountain. Even though I was riding my breaks before every turn, I was still flying. I reached 42.6mph and I could have reached well beyond that. It was nuts. I can only imagine how fast I could have gotten. Geese. Luckily I was able to get another big downhill with some dry roads before the day was through.
After four hours of mountains and then 1500 feet of more vertical I was hungry. I stopped in this little place where I was told to get their Banana Pecan Pancakes. Oh how that sounds good, but breakfast was over. I died a little inside when the waitress told me that. Instead, I got a turkey swiss and avocado melt with a side salad. For dessert...get ready...a Vanilla Maple Syrup Malted Milk Shake. OOHHHHOHOHOHOOHO YEAH! The maple syrup was fresh Vermont maple syrup made two shops down. It was heavenly. If someone said to me, "Hey Evan if you had to eat..." I would interrupt them there and say Vanilla Maple Syrup Malted Milk Shake for the rest of my life, yes. It was that good. If only I could have had the pancakes with it. Oh Damn.
After more mountain climbing I met up with these two students from Princeton. One was getting his PHD and the other one had just graduated. They were from Sweden and decided to take some time off and bike the states for a while. I am terrible with names and I feel bad I forgot them. They were both really nice people. We cycling for a while together, but eventually I pulled ahead of them after the second major climb and downhill. 1000 feet vertical feet of climbing at about 10 degrees. It was tough, but beautiful. The way down was a bit more dry than the first descent and I made it up to 45.3mph. That was fun. Especially on winding roads.
I'm going to cut this short because I could not be more tired than I am right now. At the end of the day I made it through the Green Mountains In a single day of riding. 80 miles through mountains, and I worked my ass off. It was spectacular and I recommend driving, camping, lodging, (or riding) through them to anyone. It's a great experience. I made it from Middlebury Vermont to Orford, NH. When I got to Orford I went into town, got a large phili cheese steak and mac-n-cheese with ground beef in it. I ate that in about 5 minutes. I also go two 22ozs of Long Trail Brewery's Amber Ale. They are a micro brewery (or macro im not sure) out of Vermont and this beer is great. Get it next time you are up here.
I'm going to bed though. Good night and as always, thanks for reading.
They reminded me of back packing through the Wind River Range in Wyoming when I was a freshman in high school. There aren't a lot of people there, and that's how I like nature to be. Having tons of people disconnects you with your environment, and to not sound too much like a hippie, it disconnects you with the world. Now, don't worry, I'm not about to start meditating or anything, but when you are in an area that looks, smells, and feels like it did hundreds of years ago and you take a moment to let it all sink it, it is truly sublime. It is a great feeling, it really is.
Not too far into the Greens I came to my first major ascent. It was a 1500 foot vertical climb with parts reaching 12 degrees. I did not know that I was coming up to such a climb until I was 3/4 done with it. I was out of breath and I was pushing myself really hard. Eventually I stopped and was like "There has to be a top to this thing. I mean I feel like I've been climbing non stop". So I looked at my map and realized where I was. Duh. I got to the top, took in the sites for a bit, and began my descent. I wanted to just rocket down, but there was a lot of water on the cracked winding roads hugging the mountain. Even though I was riding my breaks before every turn, I was still flying. I reached 42.6mph and I could have reached well beyond that. It was nuts. I can only imagine how fast I could have gotten. Geese. Luckily I was able to get another big downhill with some dry roads before the day was through.
After four hours of mountains and then 1500 feet of more vertical I was hungry. I stopped in this little place where I was told to get their Banana Pecan Pancakes. Oh how that sounds good, but breakfast was over. I died a little inside when the waitress told me that. Instead, I got a turkey swiss and avocado melt with a side salad. For dessert...get ready...a Vanilla Maple Syrup Malted Milk Shake. OOHHHHOHOHOHOOHO YEAH! The maple syrup was fresh Vermont maple syrup made two shops down. It was heavenly. If someone said to me, "Hey Evan if you had to eat..." I would interrupt them there and say Vanilla Maple Syrup Malted Milk Shake for the rest of my life, yes. It was that good. If only I could have had the pancakes with it. Oh Damn.
After more mountain climbing I met up with these two students from Princeton. One was getting his PHD and the other one had just graduated. They were from Sweden and decided to take some time off and bike the states for a while. I am terrible with names and I feel bad I forgot them. They were both really nice people. We cycling for a while together, but eventually I pulled ahead of them after the second major climb and downhill. 1000 feet vertical feet of climbing at about 10 degrees. It was tough, but beautiful. The way down was a bit more dry than the first descent and I made it up to 45.3mph. That was fun. Especially on winding roads.
I'm going to cut this short because I could not be more tired than I am right now. At the end of the day I made it through the Green Mountains In a single day of riding. 80 miles through mountains, and I worked my ass off. It was spectacular and I recommend driving, camping, lodging, (or riding) through them to anyone. It's a great experience. I made it from Middlebury Vermont to Orford, NH. When I got to Orford I went into town, got a large phili cheese steak and mac-n-cheese with ground beef in it. I ate that in about 5 minutes. I also go two 22ozs of Long Trail Brewery's Amber Ale. They are a micro brewery (or macro im not sure) out of Vermont and this beer is great. Get it next time you are up here.
I'm going to bed though. Good night and as always, thanks for reading.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Kowabunga
I left Jill and Toms house today around 7:00am only to notice that I had broken one of my rear spokes. I do not have to tools to fix that, nor could I have the right tools to do it properly, so I had to go to a bike repair shop. The closest one is in Middlebury, Vermont. My maps were leading me there, but It was still about 30 miles way. It would have only been about 20 miles away but the ferry was flooded and no one believes about bridges around here, so I had to ride 17 miles north to go to the next ferry. Although they were half way through building a bridge up there, come on. Really? They even had bridges this big in the 1800s, what the hell New York / Vermont. Get it together.
Riding in Vermont was just as beautiful as NY. Not much difference in landscape, but everything is flooded. I took pictures of this one road that they had to raise 3 feet, and then make a break wall just to keep the water from washing it away again. The winds in my face the whole way, but only at about 10 mph. My legs were having the hardest time though. For some reason I couldn't ride like I was in the mountains. My legs weren't having it. Even with my wobbly warped wheel on the back, I should have been able to do these 30+ miles easy, but I guess I have just worked my legs too hard.
Not too far away from Middlebury, my legs were sore, I was exhausted, and I couldn't ride anymore. My friend Luigi, a friend I met through a friend, told me about couchsurfing.net. It is a lot like warmshowers.org, but it is for anybody who is traveling and needs a place to crash. I signed up, made a profile and sent a few people a request to crash on their couch. There isn't any camping for a while outside of town so If I could get a college kid who had a place for me to crash, that would be idealistic.
Middlebury is a beautiful town with a very beautiful college campus. The town was originally a white marble mining town so every building is made out of this flawless white marble. Churches, admin buildings, the library, science building, cafeterias, statues, everything is this pearly white. Truly remarkable. When I got to town I found the outdoors store / bike repair shop. One of the owners was working there and had her one year old Golden Retriever puppy in the shop. The Golden's name was Georgia, and was a typical, happy, loving, friendly, playful, pretty Golden Retriever. She loved to play and I loved to play with her. The owner got a kick out of me and her dog and made me feel at home in her store.
While walking around I got a message back from one of the people from couchsurfing.net His name is Thom, and he just graduated. He had just couch surfed across Europe so he was more than welcome to have me crash at his apartment. It was also raining out so to get a place to stay dry is more than generous. We got some food and checked out the local brewery. Otter Creek Brewery was the name, and the brewer used to brew at dogfish head. Really tasty beer and great prices. Try them next time you are in the east coast.
Side note: Before this trip I truly believed that the majority of people were corrupt and wouldn't help out a sole. I have to admit I have acted that way in the past, but I always try to be helpful to people, even if I can't help them directly. Since I started just under two weeks ago my mind has almost changed entirely. There are so many cool people out there willing to help out a stranger in need. Maybe it is because outside of a big city there isn't as much crime and people just trust one another. It is really specially and I am eternally grateful to everyone that has helped me out here on my own. Without the hospitality of the people I have met, I would not be having a good time. I would be more shut in, unwilling to trust people, and completely withdrawn.
Riding in Vermont was just as beautiful as NY. Not much difference in landscape, but everything is flooded. I took pictures of this one road that they had to raise 3 feet, and then make a break wall just to keep the water from washing it away again. The winds in my face the whole way, but only at about 10 mph. My legs were having the hardest time though. For some reason I couldn't ride like I was in the mountains. My legs weren't having it. Even with my wobbly warped wheel on the back, I should have been able to do these 30+ miles easy, but I guess I have just worked my legs too hard.
Not too far away from Middlebury, my legs were sore, I was exhausted, and I couldn't ride anymore. My friend Luigi, a friend I met through a friend, told me about couchsurfing.net. It is a lot like warmshowers.org, but it is for anybody who is traveling and needs a place to crash. I signed up, made a profile and sent a few people a request to crash on their couch. There isn't any camping for a while outside of town so If I could get a college kid who had a place for me to crash, that would be idealistic.
Middlebury is a beautiful town with a very beautiful college campus. The town was originally a white marble mining town so every building is made out of this flawless white marble. Churches, admin buildings, the library, science building, cafeterias, statues, everything is this pearly white. Truly remarkable. When I got to town I found the outdoors store / bike repair shop. One of the owners was working there and had her one year old Golden Retriever puppy in the shop. The Golden's name was Georgia, and was a typical, happy, loving, friendly, playful, pretty Golden Retriever. She loved to play and I loved to play with her. The owner got a kick out of me and her dog and made me feel at home in her store.
While walking around I got a message back from one of the people from couchsurfing.net His name is Thom, and he just graduated. He had just couch surfed across Europe so he was more than welcome to have me crash at his apartment. It was also raining out so to get a place to stay dry is more than generous. We got some food and checked out the local brewery. Otter Creek Brewery was the name, and the brewer used to brew at dogfish head. Really tasty beer and great prices. Try them next time you are in the east coast.
Side note: Before this trip I truly believed that the majority of people were corrupt and wouldn't help out a sole. I have to admit I have acted that way in the past, but I always try to be helpful to people, even if I can't help them directly. Since I started just under two weeks ago my mind has almost changed entirely. There are so many cool people out there willing to help out a stranger in need. Maybe it is because outside of a big city there isn't as much crime and people just trust one another. It is really specially and I am eternally grateful to everyone that has helped me out here on my own. Without the hospitality of the people I have met, I would not be having a good time. I would be more shut in, unwilling to trust people, and completely withdrawn.
WarmShowers
Before I went to bed last night I e-mailed a couple in Ticonderoga about staying at their place for the night. If you skipped over a few posts ago, Warm Showers is a cycling social network where other cyclists allow people, who are currently on tour, to stay at their place for the night. They either allow them to camp outside or give them a bed for the night, shower, hospitality, laundry, and sometimes food. It really is a great way for people to extend their kindness to others. I hadn't heard back from the couple that night so I was going to call them in the morning. If they weren't having anyone it wasn't a big deal, I would just camp somewhere.
I woke up on my 11th day to the sound of poring rain. I opened my eyes to look out of my rain fly window and it was as if my tent was made of tin, and nails were being dropped on me. "Ugh" Riding in the rain isn't bad if you are going a short distance. It is actually kind of fun, until you are dripping wet and cold. Then all you want is to escape and never do it again. Much like bowling. (Thanks Joe Dowd) My roommate one said about something I don't remember "It's like bowling. You haven't done it for long time and you really want to, but once you do it you are like,' let's not do that for while'."
I laid in bed for about an hour, staring at the rain hoping it would stop. I turned on my phone and checked the weather. Rain for 3 days. Dammit. As I watched the barrage of rain drops falling inches from my head onto my tent I got a call from Jill, the woman who lives in Ticonderoga I e-mailed about regarding warm showers. She told me she had room and that I could use a bed. That lifted my spirits right away. After I got off the phone I got dressed in my tent to avoid getting wet, put cut up ponchos on my feet I made from my trip into Horseshoe Falls with Katie, and took off.
For the past two days everyone has said "Oooo watch out for that hill coming up to Ti' (Ticonderoga). It's a big one" or "That big hill before Ti' is going to be real tough, but coming down should be fun". I was expecting the climb of my trip, but every time I thought I was coming up to it. I had more uphill. I couldn't find just one hill. Well, it turns out they were talking about the entire set of climbs because the downhill into Ticonderoga was awesome. It was about 2 miles of all downhill. I reached speeds of about 50 mph. There was some traffic on the street with a speed limit of 50 mph. I was just keeping up with them. Reeeaaallllly fun. It would have been better had it not been for the rain, but whatever. Still fun.
I made a few stops in Ti'. Subway for lunch and Wal Mart shortly after to stock up on some supplies. I also Stopped at a liquor store and got the couple a bottle of wine for letting me stay. I was soaking wet and it was such short notice. It was the least I could do.
Jill's husband Tom directed me by phone to their house. They have a beautiful house right one Lake George. The construction began in 2008 and they moved in June of last year. It is all wood and stone, two stories with a lofted second floor, and a vaulted ceiling that I could stare at for days. The whole house is controlled by little touch screen displays on the walls, which control the music, lights, hard to reach windows, security, everything. Tom showed me to my room on the basement level / the first floor from the back yard and told me I could take a hot shower. Best thing I have heard someone say for a while. I was so cold and wet that there wasn't anything better anyone could have said right then and their to top that. When Jill came home I introduced myself to her and we talked about biking, my trip, and her past trips. I learned though the two that they are semi-retired and have several kids, their youngest being 25. We listened to blues and jazz with a little bit of funk, drank wine, watched horse racing, discussed which speakers they should buy, and ate great pasta and meat sauce. Their hospitality was beyond anything I could have wished for. They opened their lovely home to me and treated me like I was part of the family. It was very special and I can't thank them enough.
I woke up on my 11th day to the sound of poring rain. I opened my eyes to look out of my rain fly window and it was as if my tent was made of tin, and nails were being dropped on me. "Ugh" Riding in the rain isn't bad if you are going a short distance. It is actually kind of fun, until you are dripping wet and cold. Then all you want is to escape and never do it again. Much like bowling. (Thanks Joe Dowd) My roommate one said about something I don't remember "It's like bowling. You haven't done it for long time and you really want to, but once you do it you are like,' let's not do that for while'."
I laid in bed for about an hour, staring at the rain hoping it would stop. I turned on my phone and checked the weather. Rain for 3 days. Dammit. As I watched the barrage of rain drops falling inches from my head onto my tent I got a call from Jill, the woman who lives in Ticonderoga I e-mailed about regarding warm showers. She told me she had room and that I could use a bed. That lifted my spirits right away. After I got off the phone I got dressed in my tent to avoid getting wet, put cut up ponchos on my feet I made from my trip into Horseshoe Falls with Katie, and took off.
For the past two days everyone has said "Oooo watch out for that hill coming up to Ti' (Ticonderoga). It's a big one" or "That big hill before Ti' is going to be real tough, but coming down should be fun". I was expecting the climb of my trip, but every time I thought I was coming up to it. I had more uphill. I couldn't find just one hill. Well, it turns out they were talking about the entire set of climbs because the downhill into Ticonderoga was awesome. It was about 2 miles of all downhill. I reached speeds of about 50 mph. There was some traffic on the street with a speed limit of 50 mph. I was just keeping up with them. Reeeaaallllly fun. It would have been better had it not been for the rain, but whatever. Still fun.
I made a few stops in Ti'. Subway for lunch and Wal Mart shortly after to stock up on some supplies. I also Stopped at a liquor store and got the couple a bottle of wine for letting me stay. I was soaking wet and it was such short notice. It was the least I could do.
Jill's husband Tom directed me by phone to their house. They have a beautiful house right one Lake George. The construction began in 2008 and they moved in June of last year. It is all wood and stone, two stories with a lofted second floor, and a vaulted ceiling that I could stare at for days. The whole house is controlled by little touch screen displays on the walls, which control the music, lights, hard to reach windows, security, everything. Tom showed me to my room on the basement level / the first floor from the back yard and told me I could take a hot shower. Best thing I have heard someone say for a while. I was so cold and wet that there wasn't anything better anyone could have said right then and their to top that. When Jill came home I introduced myself to her and we talked about biking, my trip, and her past trips. I learned though the two that they are semi-retired and have several kids, their youngest being 25. We listened to blues and jazz with a little bit of funk, drank wine, watched horse racing, discussed which speakers they should buy, and ate great pasta and meat sauce. Their hospitality was beyond anything I could have wished for. They opened their lovely home to me and treated me like I was part of the family. It was very special and I can't thank them enough.
Black Flys
My 10th day on the road was a fun one, and all down hill. After climbing the Adirondacks for a day it was nice to do some fast downhills. It was a great temperature, not too hot, not too cold. It was somewhere around 73*F The visuals were stunning. I could see more than I could the previous few days because of the downhills allowed me to look around more. I could see the various mountains in the back ground, the memorizing blue hue of the trees reflecting the clear sky, and the many glacier lakes that envelopes the range. The Adirondacks have definitely been the most beautiful riding of my trip so far.
Half way through the day I met up with a few more cyclists. They were doing Portland, ME to Portland, OR. We were traveling in opposite directions so we exchanged some advice for what lies ahead. As we were talking these little black flys kept landing on us. They had been landing on me all day, but they weren't bothering me so I just let it go. I figured that because I am in the mountains, and on a bike I need to be more tolerant of insects and where they are. Obviously there are going to be a lot of them, I thought, so I might as well get used to them.
A few hours and a couple rest stops later to stretch my legs to prevent them from seizing up, I rubbed the back of my neck. It felt like powder. It was as if the suntan lotion had dried up and had stuck to my neck in clumps. Curious I began scratching off the clumps. As I brought my hand back in front of me I noticed it wasn't sun tan lotion at all. What it was, was my blood. It was everywhere. Behind my ears, on my neck, on my lower back, under my chin, everywhere. I began to freak out a little bit, but then I remembered those little black flys. "Nooooo" I thought. "I watched them land on me, there's no way they did this." As I was trying to figure out what happened I scratched the back of my ear and felt something more solid than dried blood. When i looked at what it was, it was one of those black flys! You can't even feel the little things bite you, they just latch on with their tiny sharp teeth and suck your blood. Hands down they are worse than mosquitoes. At least you can feel them when they land on you and bite you. You can't feel these little black flys land or bite.
Not soon after another swarm attacked me. Because I was rising along lakes and rivers the entire day I was like their personal traveling buffet. They travel in packs of about 30 or so, so you really have to hurry up when ever you stop. I had about 10 seconds each stop to recover before I was swarmed. It was aweful.
I eventually made it to my camp ground which was only $5. I am loving these deals for cyclists. It is really helping out my financial situation. I made some calls and everything was going fine until I decided to walk to the edge of the camp site. There, a group of black flys attacked me and I had no where to run. I got my bug net on my head, put on pants and a long sleeve. I then made a massive fire (much bigger than my fire pit) to smoke the bugs away from me. I constantly added living foliage to create smoke so drive them off. My neck is riddled with bites it looks like I had a bad reaction to an allergy test. You know, the ones with the block of 50 needles or so. It's bad. The night wasn't a total failure tho. I did ride 85 miles today: about 30 uphill and then the rest flat or downhill, and my campsite is overlooking a water fall. I am truly loving this experience. Even if I am being eaten alive by these things. Best part about it is, when you are lying in your tent and they struggle to get in, you can just relax and sleep well. You're safe.
Half way through the day I met up with a few more cyclists. They were doing Portland, ME to Portland, OR. We were traveling in opposite directions so we exchanged some advice for what lies ahead. As we were talking these little black flys kept landing on us. They had been landing on me all day, but they weren't bothering me so I just let it go. I figured that because I am in the mountains, and on a bike I need to be more tolerant of insects and where they are. Obviously there are going to be a lot of them, I thought, so I might as well get used to them.
A few hours and a couple rest stops later to stretch my legs to prevent them from seizing up, I rubbed the back of my neck. It felt like powder. It was as if the suntan lotion had dried up and had stuck to my neck in clumps. Curious I began scratching off the clumps. As I brought my hand back in front of me I noticed it wasn't sun tan lotion at all. What it was, was my blood. It was everywhere. Behind my ears, on my neck, on my lower back, under my chin, everywhere. I began to freak out a little bit, but then I remembered those little black flys. "Nooooo" I thought. "I watched them land on me, there's no way they did this." As I was trying to figure out what happened I scratched the back of my ear and felt something more solid than dried blood. When i looked at what it was, it was one of those black flys! You can't even feel the little things bite you, they just latch on with their tiny sharp teeth and suck your blood. Hands down they are worse than mosquitoes. At least you can feel them when they land on you and bite you. You can't feel these little black flys land or bite.
Not soon after another swarm attacked me. Because I was rising along lakes and rivers the entire day I was like their personal traveling buffet. They travel in packs of about 30 or so, so you really have to hurry up when ever you stop. I had about 10 seconds each stop to recover before I was swarmed. It was aweful.
I eventually made it to my camp ground which was only $5. I am loving these deals for cyclists. It is really helping out my financial situation. I made some calls and everything was going fine until I decided to walk to the edge of the camp site. There, a group of black flys attacked me and I had no where to run. I got my bug net on my head, put on pants and a long sleeve. I then made a massive fire (much bigger than my fire pit) to smoke the bugs away from me. I constantly added living foliage to create smoke so drive them off. My neck is riddled with bites it looks like I had a bad reaction to an allergy test. You know, the ones with the block of 50 needles or so. It's bad. The night wasn't a total failure tho. I did ride 85 miles today: about 30 uphill and then the rest flat or downhill, and my campsite is overlooking a water fall. I am truly loving this experience. Even if I am being eaten alive by these things. Best part about it is, when you are lying in your tent and they struggle to get in, you can just relax and sleep well. You're safe.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
"Boonville, No parking after dark."
Day 9
Last night in the state park I had my first major storm scare of the trip. I was originally camping under a lot of trees, but when dark clouds started moving in and distant roars of the sky began to sound, I moved to open ground. Open ground is always more safe than under trees during a storm for many reasons. If the storm carries strong wings then limbs and even entire trees have a good chance of falling. There are many stories about trees falling on camp sites, cabins, and even tents. I did not want to be one of those stories. Another reason is lightning. Lightning tends to jump from place to place once it makes contact with something. What ever is in the area of the connection tends to get blasted as well. If a connection was a tree near my tent, I would for sure have gotten a shock. Lightning can also break off limbs of trees and that goes back to my original reason for leaving.
In my tent It sounded like a train rushing by. The winds were getting exceedingly dangerous and the storm, although no rain, was getting stronger. I turned on my emergency weather radio that was lent to me by Katie's mom Gayle, and step dad Al.
"For the various counties there is a severe weather watch...although this is not a warning, the storm as the potential of creating golf ball sized hail and creating winds exceeding 50 to 70 miles per hour. If you are inside seek shelter immediately and stay away from windows..."
That was not what I wanted to hear. After doing a five second synopsis of my 1 person 7' x 3' tent I opened the fly, secured my tent, and headed towards the bathroom. It was the only structure I knew about for a while so it seemed like the obvious choice.
In the bathroom I noticed I was not alone. Living in the bathroom were more mosquitoes, flys, giant moths, and massive spiders catching all of the above hanging from the ceiling to about eye level. I hate spiders. They creep me out and I want nothing to do with them. At this point is was brave the storm or squat with the insects in the state park bathroom. Ugh. To be honest I was leaning on the side out the storm, but I needed a minute.
20 minutes after I had entered I was fairly bored so I called my father. We talked for a bit, he found the comedic aspect of my situation, and laughed accordingly. I asked him to go on the weather and look it up for me. Eventually we realized that the storm had just missed me by a few miles. Anywhere north of my position was blasted with massive winds reaching 50mph with gusts up to 70mph. I had some winds, but nothing substantial, and no rain what so ever. I got back to my tent after saying goodnight to my dad and decided to call my girlfriend. We talked for a bit, I thanked her for the weather radio, and we talked about the weather. She also said that it looked like I was in the clear. I could sleep well now.
On my 9th day on the road I began to climb hills. Lots and lots of hills. There were some downhills but most everything was up. I knew I was getting into the Adirondacks and this was to be expected. I figured that I would only go about 60 miles to rest my knee, but on meeting and talking to a twosome (Paige and Tulief) I decided to push further. They talked about Old Forge and how it was a bigger city with lots to do. Sold. They also told me about a social networking, community, if you will, of cyclists called Warm Showers. Warm Showers was started a number of years ago and is maintained by a number of volunteers. What it is is hospitality by touring cyclists, for touring cyclists. When you register you enter your personal information and a bio about yourself. People on the road can look you up, contact you, and request to either camp in your back yard or, if you allow, stay in your home with you. The best part is it is free! If you stay with a member they have the ability to rate you as a guest. If you aren't a good guest and do not do your part, then you will get a bad rating and probably not be allowed a place to sleep in the future. It really is an amazing thing. I told Paige and Tulief thank you for the tip and wished them luck on their trip.
I road past the town where I was going to camp, made it to the next bigger than 600 people town and found an internet cafe. "Boonville, no parking after dark" is what a sign read as entering into the town. Not the slogan I would have chosen, but I guess it gets the message across. They do not want people in the streets after dark, period. I logged into the internet at the cafe and joined Warmshowers.org. Paige and Tulief told me there was supposidely a nice couple in Ticonderoga and that I should look them up if I'm passing through. I couldn't really figure out how to work the site so I just decided I would work on it later. I needed to get on the road to make it another 30 miles to the town of Old Forge anyway.
A few hours later and I had made it about 85 miles up hilly terrain to Old Forge, however not without consequence. The last 8 miles were terrible. My knee was killing me. I couldn't ride on it for more than 20 minutes at a time without getting sharp body crippling pain. I would ride for a bit, feel my knee beginning to seize, and rest. I continued this until I reached the city. I went to a rite aid, bought some bengay, and got a cheep motel. I justified the motel with my pain. I also justified going to a local pub and getting some craft beer and a pulled pork sandwich with fries with the pain. Ohohohoohhooh the food and beer was so good. I paired them perfectly and I smiled the entire time I was eating it. The bartender was laughing at how happy I looked and I told her my story. "You happy makes me happy sweety" she said to me with a smile. I was in heaven.
When the meal ended, and my pint glasses were empty, much to my dismay, I headed back to the hotel. I saw a Doe and her Fawn on some lawn in the middle of town like it was no big deal. I took some pictures and headed back. I put about 3 bengay patches on my leg that night and fell asleep in a heartbeat.
Last night in the state park I had my first major storm scare of the trip. I was originally camping under a lot of trees, but when dark clouds started moving in and distant roars of the sky began to sound, I moved to open ground. Open ground is always more safe than under trees during a storm for many reasons. If the storm carries strong wings then limbs and even entire trees have a good chance of falling. There are many stories about trees falling on camp sites, cabins, and even tents. I did not want to be one of those stories. Another reason is lightning. Lightning tends to jump from place to place once it makes contact with something. What ever is in the area of the connection tends to get blasted as well. If a connection was a tree near my tent, I would for sure have gotten a shock. Lightning can also break off limbs of trees and that goes back to my original reason for leaving.
In my tent It sounded like a train rushing by. The winds were getting exceedingly dangerous and the storm, although no rain, was getting stronger. I turned on my emergency weather radio that was lent to me by Katie's mom Gayle, and step dad Al.
"For the various counties there is a severe weather watch...although this is not a warning, the storm as the potential of creating golf ball sized hail and creating winds exceeding 50 to 70 miles per hour. If you are inside seek shelter immediately and stay away from windows..."
That was not what I wanted to hear. After doing a five second synopsis of my 1 person 7' x 3' tent I opened the fly, secured my tent, and headed towards the bathroom. It was the only structure I knew about for a while so it seemed like the obvious choice.
In the bathroom I noticed I was not alone. Living in the bathroom were more mosquitoes, flys, giant moths, and massive spiders catching all of the above hanging from the ceiling to about eye level. I hate spiders. They creep me out and I want nothing to do with them. At this point is was brave the storm or squat with the insects in the state park bathroom. Ugh. To be honest I was leaning on the side out the storm, but I needed a minute.
20 minutes after I had entered I was fairly bored so I called my father. We talked for a bit, he found the comedic aspect of my situation, and laughed accordingly. I asked him to go on the weather and look it up for me. Eventually we realized that the storm had just missed me by a few miles. Anywhere north of my position was blasted with massive winds reaching 50mph with gusts up to 70mph. I had some winds, but nothing substantial, and no rain what so ever. I got back to my tent after saying goodnight to my dad and decided to call my girlfriend. We talked for a bit, I thanked her for the weather radio, and we talked about the weather. She also said that it looked like I was in the clear. I could sleep well now.
On my 9th day on the road I began to climb hills. Lots and lots of hills. There were some downhills but most everything was up. I knew I was getting into the Adirondacks and this was to be expected. I figured that I would only go about 60 miles to rest my knee, but on meeting and talking to a twosome (Paige and Tulief) I decided to push further. They talked about Old Forge and how it was a bigger city with lots to do. Sold. They also told me about a social networking, community, if you will, of cyclists called Warm Showers. Warm Showers was started a number of years ago and is maintained by a number of volunteers. What it is is hospitality by touring cyclists, for touring cyclists. When you register you enter your personal information and a bio about yourself. People on the road can look you up, contact you, and request to either camp in your back yard or, if you allow, stay in your home with you. The best part is it is free! If you stay with a member they have the ability to rate you as a guest. If you aren't a good guest and do not do your part, then you will get a bad rating and probably not be allowed a place to sleep in the future. It really is an amazing thing. I told Paige and Tulief thank you for the tip and wished them luck on their trip.
I road past the town where I was going to camp, made it to the next bigger than 600 people town and found an internet cafe. "Boonville, no parking after dark" is what a sign read as entering into the town. Not the slogan I would have chosen, but I guess it gets the message across. They do not want people in the streets after dark, period. I logged into the internet at the cafe and joined Warmshowers.org. Paige and Tulief told me there was supposidely a nice couple in Ticonderoga and that I should look them up if I'm passing through. I couldn't really figure out how to work the site so I just decided I would work on it later. I needed to get on the road to make it another 30 miles to the town of Old Forge anyway.
A few hours later and I had made it about 85 miles up hilly terrain to Old Forge, however not without consequence. The last 8 miles were terrible. My knee was killing me. I couldn't ride on it for more than 20 minutes at a time without getting sharp body crippling pain. I would ride for a bit, feel my knee beginning to seize, and rest. I continued this until I reached the city. I went to a rite aid, bought some bengay, and got a cheep motel. I justified the motel with my pain. I also justified going to a local pub and getting some craft beer and a pulled pork sandwich with fries with the pain. Ohohohoohhooh the food and beer was so good. I paired them perfectly and I smiled the entire time I was eating it. The bartender was laughing at how happy I looked and I told her my story. "You happy makes me happy sweety" she said to me with a smile. I was in heaven.
When the meal ended, and my pint glasses were empty, much to my dismay, I headed back to the hotel. I saw a Doe and her Fawn on some lawn in the middle of town like it was no big deal. I took some pictures and headed back. I put about 3 bengay patches on my leg that night and fell asleep in a heartbeat.
Dr. Doolittle
Day 8
After I left the Bike the US for MS group I headed further east, toward the Adirondack mountains. Though I was still a few days away from the range, the hills let me know what was coming . There isn't much to tell about today as cycling is concerned. I only went about 65 miles because my knee started acting up again. I was planning on going 80-90 miles, but whatever. The kids in the group, and the other cyclists I have met only go 65 on average so I didn't feel too bad about it. What is mentionable about today has to do with the odd interactions I had with animals.
#1 Nothing is special about seeing cows. They are everywhere. I saw more of them when I was in Canada, but that's probably do to the path I was taking and the specific topography. In Canada I passed hundreds of farms, most if not all with at least some numbers of cows. All they do is graze, look up at you riding by every now and then, and go back to grazing. This was the story up until my 8th day on the road.
As I approached this one tract of land on the left side of the road I saw cows. Nothing special yet. There was about 20 or so of them and again, nothing special. What was weird however, is that they were all looking at me. What makes it even more weird is that not one went back to eating. All 20 were just looking at me and not moving. Naturally I stopped because I hadn't seen this before. They didn't move, they didn't look down or make any noise, they just looked at me. Now, before this they were all scattered, but as I stopped they all bunched together. As if I was the weird creature and they were all whispering about me, while not looking away. They began to get closer and closer to eachother, still not one looking away. At this point it had been about five minutes. Me looking at the cows, the cows looking at me. I snapped a few pictures just so stunned by this event.
They looked friendly enough, as friendly as a cow cult could look, so I approached the fense. As I walked a little closer to the fense the cows walked a little closer. I took a few steps, the cows took a few steps. We did this dance until I was at the fense and the cows were about 5 feet away, all looking at me. I reached out my hand and one cow hesitantly came up to me. She put her nose up to my hand and licked me. I jumped back because I have never saw a cows tongue before (large, blue, pink, and black) and as I jumped back and made a "ehhh" noice (high pitched of course) the cows jumped back about a foot and made some grunts (low pitched of course). Now knoing that it wasn't trying to eat me I reached back over the fense, the cows came closer, and the same cow began to lick my hand. It was really strange. I tried to take a picture but all that came out was the cow looking at my hand and no tongue. It is still a good picture tho.
I was laughing at the whole thing for a bit. It was unlike any experience I have ever had with a cow, let alone a group of cows. When I turned to walk back up the hill to my bike, on the other side of the road was another equal size group of cows all looking at me! "What is going on!" I laughed. It was so strange. I had cows on either side of me, all staring at me like I had fallen out of the sky and they have never seen a person before. It really was something else.
#2 I decided to camp in a state park overnight. I thought It would be a good change from the private campgrounds and away from people, but I was half right. There were little children running around like they all just drank mountain dew and coffee within minutes of me arriving. I probably would have been pissed if I wasn't so freeking tired from my knee hurting and the hills. I made my tent right away and took a nap.
Before I fell asleep I did the classic roll around until you find a comfortable position for five minutes, which so happens to be the first position you tried dance. When I tried to lay on my stomache I noticed a little chipmunk inches from my head. The little guy was checking out my tent and probably looking for scraps. Because I knew he hadn't noticed me yet I cleared my throat twice. *gruhh gruhh* The chipmunk immediately looked up, saw my eyes and took off like a missle into the woods.
Not too long after I finally fell asleep only to be woken up by something rubbing against my foot. Turns out that the chipmunk was back and decided to play chicken with my foot. I looked over down my tent, heard the chipmunk running, then bounce off of my tent near my foot. I said "What the hell are you doing!", he looked at me, and took off. Crazy little bastard.
#3 After my nap I saw my mother had called so I got out of my tent and walked to the sunny portion of the camp grounds to call her. I walked to the sunny part because the temperature had finally begun to raise thus triggering mosquitos. About 10 minutes in to talking with my mom I look back at my tent and gear only to see a large raccoon put his paws up on the picnick table, where I put my gear, and sniff around. I told my mon "hang on", put down the phone, raised and extended my arms and said "What the hell are you doing?! Get out of here, what is going on today?" As I was talking to the raccoon and walking closer, he finally noticed me and just looked at me. His face had the expression of question and innosence as to imply that he was doing nothing wrong and had no business to be interupted by me. As I got closer he walked away but not far. He walked behind a tree. Not up the tree. Not behind as if he was walking away and dissappeared behind a tree for a while, but rather he walked behind a tree and stayed there. "I can see you ya' know", I said. "I know you're there, it's not like I think you've vanished". He then reached with his left paw on the right ride of the tree and stook his head out only enough to reveal one eye. "Yeah, I know now get out of here". He started walking away again, but only to the next tree. This went on for about 6 trees until he walked away to harrass another camp site.
I went back to my mom, talked to her for a while, and went back to nap some more. Mid nap I heard a dad say to his kids "Oh kids look, right over there behind the firepit (my firepit), there's a raccoon!". My eyes open. "He's probably looking for some food" he said. That little F&@%$R!
After I left the Bike the US for MS group I headed further east, toward the Adirondack mountains. Though I was still a few days away from the range, the hills let me know what was coming . There isn't much to tell about today as cycling is concerned. I only went about 65 miles because my knee started acting up again. I was planning on going 80-90 miles, but whatever. The kids in the group, and the other cyclists I have met only go 65 on average so I didn't feel too bad about it. What is mentionable about today has to do with the odd interactions I had with animals.
#1 Nothing is special about seeing cows. They are everywhere. I saw more of them when I was in Canada, but that's probably do to the path I was taking and the specific topography. In Canada I passed hundreds of farms, most if not all with at least some numbers of cows. All they do is graze, look up at you riding by every now and then, and go back to grazing. This was the story up until my 8th day on the road.
As I approached this one tract of land on the left side of the road I saw cows. Nothing special yet. There was about 20 or so of them and again, nothing special. What was weird however, is that they were all looking at me. What makes it even more weird is that not one went back to eating. All 20 were just looking at me and not moving. Naturally I stopped because I hadn't seen this before. They didn't move, they didn't look down or make any noise, they just looked at me. Now, before this they were all scattered, but as I stopped they all bunched together. As if I was the weird creature and they were all whispering about me, while not looking away. They began to get closer and closer to eachother, still not one looking away. At this point it had been about five minutes. Me looking at the cows, the cows looking at me. I snapped a few pictures just so stunned by this event.
They looked friendly enough, as friendly as a cow cult could look, so I approached the fense. As I walked a little closer to the fense the cows walked a little closer. I took a few steps, the cows took a few steps. We did this dance until I was at the fense and the cows were about 5 feet away, all looking at me. I reached out my hand and one cow hesitantly came up to me. She put her nose up to my hand and licked me. I jumped back because I have never saw a cows tongue before (large, blue, pink, and black) and as I jumped back and made a "ehhh" noice (high pitched of course) the cows jumped back about a foot and made some grunts (low pitched of course). Now knoing that it wasn't trying to eat me I reached back over the fense, the cows came closer, and the same cow began to lick my hand. It was really strange. I tried to take a picture but all that came out was the cow looking at my hand and no tongue. It is still a good picture tho.
I was laughing at the whole thing for a bit. It was unlike any experience I have ever had with a cow, let alone a group of cows. When I turned to walk back up the hill to my bike, on the other side of the road was another equal size group of cows all looking at me! "What is going on!" I laughed. It was so strange. I had cows on either side of me, all staring at me like I had fallen out of the sky and they have never seen a person before. It really was something else.
#2 I decided to camp in a state park overnight. I thought It would be a good change from the private campgrounds and away from people, but I was half right. There were little children running around like they all just drank mountain dew and coffee within minutes of me arriving. I probably would have been pissed if I wasn't so freeking tired from my knee hurting and the hills. I made my tent right away and took a nap.
Before I fell asleep I did the classic roll around until you find a comfortable position for five minutes, which so happens to be the first position you tried dance. When I tried to lay on my stomache I noticed a little chipmunk inches from my head. The little guy was checking out my tent and probably looking for scraps. Because I knew he hadn't noticed me yet I cleared my throat twice. *gruhh gruhh* The chipmunk immediately looked up, saw my eyes and took off like a missle into the woods.
Not too long after I finally fell asleep only to be woken up by something rubbing against my foot. Turns out that the chipmunk was back and decided to play chicken with my foot. I looked over down my tent, heard the chipmunk running, then bounce off of my tent near my foot. I said "What the hell are you doing!", he looked at me, and took off. Crazy little bastard.
#3 After my nap I saw my mother had called so I got out of my tent and walked to the sunny portion of the camp grounds to call her. I walked to the sunny part because the temperature had finally begun to raise thus triggering mosquitos. About 10 minutes in to talking with my mom I look back at my tent and gear only to see a large raccoon put his paws up on the picnick table, where I put my gear, and sniff around. I told my mon "hang on", put down the phone, raised and extended my arms and said "What the hell are you doing?! Get out of here, what is going on today?" As I was talking to the raccoon and walking closer, he finally noticed me and just looked at me. His face had the expression of question and innosence as to imply that he was doing nothing wrong and had no business to be interupted by me. As I got closer he walked away but not far. He walked behind a tree. Not up the tree. Not behind as if he was walking away and dissappeared behind a tree for a while, but rather he walked behind a tree and stayed there. "I can see you ya' know", I said. "I know you're there, it's not like I think you've vanished". He then reached with his left paw on the right ride of the tree and stook his head out only enough to reveal one eye. "Yeah, I know now get out of here". He started walking away again, but only to the next tree. This went on for about 6 trees until he walked away to harrass another camp site.
I went back to my mom, talked to her for a while, and went back to nap some more. Mid nap I heard a dad say to his kids "Oh kids look, right over there behind the firepit (my firepit), there's a raccoon!". My eyes open. "He's probably looking for some food" he said. That little F&@%$R!
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Day 7
Day 7
Lazy sunday, meet lazy tuesday. As I stated in my last post I was thinking about taking today off to recover from my leg injury. I still woke up around 5:00am, but I stayed in my tent to about 9:15am or so. It would have been really great if my leg wasn't in pain. Breakfast consisted of two bananas and some granola. After walking around for a bit, looking at the water and trees I decided it was lunch time. I road on into town without my gear (felt weird) and found one of the two open dives in town. One said steaks on it for $15 as the special, no thanks, the other said home made malted milkshakes, yes please. At the local malt shop I ordered a chicken tender sandwich with ranch and of course a chocolate malt. Totaled me around $8.00 but it was well worth it.
After lunch I rode around town and to this historic lighthouse where there was some battle of 1812. I didn't go in due to the scam of charging every body to see a piece of history but whatever. Still cool to be there. Because the town was only a mile from my camp site I decided to ride a few more miles to Burnap's Fruit Farm. I picked up some pasta sauce for my 1/2lb of pasta left and some cherry tomoatos. The woman was also kind enough to give me some salt from the restaurant. That will help for the future, especially with my camp famous hobo-stew. Mmmmmmmm.
My way back to camp I found a cemetery on the side of the road. It looked incredibly old so I checked it out. Almost every grave stone was eroded away to the point where you couldnt read the lettering, but some of which have been laid down and new ones have been put up. I took a picture of one man who fought in the revolutionary war and died in 1814. Amazing. What a life. He fought for the birth of our nation, and lived through our second war with the british. Wow. I stopped and paid my respects for a few minutes to all of the lives that helped shaped our country to what it is today.
Entering camp I saw these signs that I hadn't seen before. There had a bicycle on the front so I was sure I would have seen them before. If you're only doing one thing you tend to notice anything with a symbol pertaining to what you are doing. Under the bike says "Bike The US for MS". I was told there would be a group of bikers coming but I wasn't sure I would see them. There are 21 in their group and they all raised money for MS so they could do this trip. The group leader was the first one there (he traveled by van). We started talking and he gave me a beer. 1st free beer of the trip so I was very thankful. The rest of the group eventually showed up and I talked to nearly every person for a bit. Some invited me to join them, although very tempting I wanted to do it my way.
After talking for a bit I learned that each person had to raise about $4,445 to ride $4,445 miles. It sounded like a great cause and I wish them the best luck. I may even see them in Seattle when I get over there. Who knows?
Lazy sunday, meet lazy tuesday. As I stated in my last post I was thinking about taking today off to recover from my leg injury. I still woke up around 5:00am, but I stayed in my tent to about 9:15am or so. It would have been really great if my leg wasn't in pain. Breakfast consisted of two bananas and some granola. After walking around for a bit, looking at the water and trees I decided it was lunch time. I road on into town without my gear (felt weird) and found one of the two open dives in town. One said steaks on it for $15 as the special, no thanks, the other said home made malted milkshakes, yes please. At the local malt shop I ordered a chicken tender sandwich with ranch and of course a chocolate malt. Totaled me around $8.00 but it was well worth it.
After lunch I rode around town and to this historic lighthouse where there was some battle of 1812. I didn't go in due to the scam of charging every body to see a piece of history but whatever. Still cool to be there. Because the town was only a mile from my camp site I decided to ride a few more miles to Burnap's Fruit Farm. I picked up some pasta sauce for my 1/2lb of pasta left and some cherry tomoatos. The woman was also kind enough to give me some salt from the restaurant. That will help for the future, especially with my camp famous hobo-stew. Mmmmmmmm.
My way back to camp I found a cemetery on the side of the road. It looked incredibly old so I checked it out. Almost every grave stone was eroded away to the point where you couldnt read the lettering, but some of which have been laid down and new ones have been put up. I took a picture of one man who fought in the revolutionary war and died in 1814. Amazing. What a life. He fought for the birth of our nation, and lived through our second war with the british. Wow. I stopped and paid my respects for a few minutes to all of the lives that helped shaped our country to what it is today.
Entering camp I saw these signs that I hadn't seen before. There had a bicycle on the front so I was sure I would have seen them before. If you're only doing one thing you tend to notice anything with a symbol pertaining to what you are doing. Under the bike says "Bike The US for MS". I was told there would be a group of bikers coming but I wasn't sure I would see them. There are 21 in their group and they all raised money for MS so they could do this trip. The group leader was the first one there (he traveled by van). We started talking and he gave me a beer. 1st free beer of the trip so I was very thankful. The rest of the group eventually showed up and I talked to nearly every person for a bit. Some invited me to join them, although very tempting I wanted to do it my way.
After talking for a bit I learned that each person had to raise about $4,445 to ride $4,445 miles. It sounded like a great cause and I wish them the best luck. I may even see them in Seattle when I get over there. Who knows?
Behind
Sorry im a few days behind on the update thing. State parks and camp grounds tend to not have wi-fi. Im in an internet cafe right now. I would type more but I have 30 more miles today and it's already 2:33pm. Ill update when I can.
Wish for no thunderstorms for me please.
Wish for no thunderstorms for me please.
Day 6
Day 6:
Last night around 8:00pm (that's night to me now that I've been on the road) Wally (The fellow cyclist I met riding alone) and I hung out near the camp fire and talked about miscellaneous stuff, mostly about biking. Since we have both never toured before, but I had a few days under my belt, I told him about the mornings. "I usually wake up around 5:45." I said. It didn't take more than a few nano seconds for him to react exactly as I thought he would. It was the same way I would have reacted If someone told me this before I started riding. I didn't want to tell him the sun actually rises at about 5:15am and you actually wake up a few minutes before that, but he found that on his own. He also found out about the birds. For those who don't wake up to the crack of dawn on a daily basis outside in a tent (used to be me) all birds, not just some birds, or a few species of birds, but all god damn birds on the earth begin chirping away at each other the second the sky begins to turn to day. It really is miserable. Luckily for me tho, I've gotten semi-used to the squacks, chirps, peeps, beeps, pecks, clicks, whistles, flaps, screeches, screams, and any other noise a bird can make. Wally unfortunately had not. At Daybreak, what I thought was a raccoon trying to mess with our stuff, searching for anything for it to scrounger up in its thieving little hands, was actually Wally wide awake at 5:14am. It gave me a chuckle as I mouthed those four special little words ever so quietly as I laid my head back down in my tent and closed my eyes; "I told you so". I tired to go back to bed so I could have about 30 minutes of sleep left, but the between Wally decommissioning his tend and those god damn, short of murder, Alfred Hitchcock birds I was wide awake. When I finally got out of my tent Wally was about ready to go. I could see in his eyes he did not have a pleasent morning and woke up quite abruptly. All I had to do was look at him while smiling to have him reply "Those god damn birds". "Haha" I laughed, smiled and rolled back into my tent chuckling.
Wally left about 20 minutes before I did. I took my time packing up camp, checking and double checking, making sure I didnt drop anything. I'm already living out of a few bags. Losing something isn't an option. I left around 6:30am or so to began my day on the Erie Canal. Nearing just south east of Rochester I caught back up with Wally. "Hey buddy" I said cheerfully. "Hows it going?" His day before was only about 40 miles and he started at noon. He didn't look like he was having a blast. I was right. Turns out he did not expect any hills on his tour to Albany, NY, which by that point we had a few smaller rolling hills. We exchanged quick stories about what we saw. Did you see this? Did you see that? Was that homeless guy under the bridge dead or just sleeping? He didn't move for you either? Haha, yeah that actually happened. We started riding for a while longer before I took off again. I like to keep a pace of about 15mph with all of my gear. It doesnt sound that fast and that's because it's not. You carry 50lbs on a bike, going over hills and you tell me that's not a good speed. When it was only about 10:30 I stopped in this one little town for lunch. There were a fair amount of people there, either in the park for a birthday or moms with babies yoga. It was a pleasant surprise. Many of the towns resemble project Manhattan test sites with a few homes and nothing to eat. The yoga thing was pretty funny tho. A bunch of new moms all huddled around trees doing yoga with their kids in identical strollers facing each other like they had their own little group meeting. I came up with stories about what that kids would be talking about but I'll leave that to your imagination. Doing things like that is high brow entertainment out on the road. Always good for a laugh.
When I stopped for lunch I asked some woman, that was packing her child in the car, if there was a good breakfast place in town. She looked at me, said nothing, and continued on packing her child in the car. That really made things awkward. I wasn't sure if she was just being rude or if she didn't hear me. To top it all off there was a man pacing around, watching me on the other side of the road. It was almost like he wanted to say something, perhaps answer my question, but couldn't find the right words to. That too was very awkward. Very awkward people in that town. Fearing that the people in this town may all be socially inept I turned around and Vwala, a breakfast place with a $3.95 2 egg, sausage, home fries, and toast special. Sold.
Half way through my meal I heard a familiar voice behind me. "Okay, this is just getting creepy" It was Wally. He had recognized the same food opportunity as I had and decided to come to this town to get some breakfast. Again we shared stories about what we saw, mainly about the mothers doing yoga. Highlight of the day so far.
After breakfast we road for a bit and again I took off. This time we didn't cross paths again. The next major city I was to head north into the mountains and he was to continue east along the Erie Canal. Not soon after I turned north I came to my biggest hill yet, and destroyed it. I completed my first major hill! It felt good. Well, after panting like a hot dog for 5 minutes and downing a half a liter of water it felt good. The rest of the major uphills I wasn't so lucky. I would get about half way up and my legs would stop working. I had to walk the rest making the experience dreadful. I eventually got the hang of how to take on hill climbing and successfully did some more medium sized ones. The path led me to the cool old town of Williamston...burg or something in Northern NY, near Lake Ontario. The town was founded like 1804 or something and had some of the original churches, homes, and shops. It was very cool. Further north I finally hit Lake Ontario and took full advantage of that refreshing lake breeze. Today was 80*F, tomorrow will be 90*. It was and will be a great help as I continue down the lake. ALong the lake I came up to an old safe house / estate for the underground railroad. I stopped, looked around for a bit, fiddled with my bike and continued on the rolling hills. It was about this time when I pulled a muscle on my right thigh. It's the one on the left side right above the knee. Physiology majors help me out here. I had planned on going another 30 miles but my right leg was getting worse and worse. I just didn't have it in me. A few more miles of hills and I was only using my left leg to propel me. My right leg could help on the up swing, but I had to let it lose coming back down or a bolt of pain would shoot through the muscle and into my knee. Just about the point where I was going to stop again for a rest I came across a sign that said "Burnap's Fresh Fruit: Farm Market". I took my break there. A break at Burnap's Farmers Market was just what the doctor ordered. Not only does Burnap's carry fresh produce, they also offer lunches. I ordered a Turkey Sandwich on home made wheat toast, with lettuce, tomato, cucumber, pickle, topped off with a cranberry mayo. I also bought a few bananas and home made granola made with fresh maple syrup. I'm currently eating it with a spoon. Really delicious. Thankfully there was a campsite not too far away from my lunch spot so I could get off of my leg, but not without a few left legged up hills first. Up hill, down hill, up hill, back down, small up, big down and I saw some RVs. I had told myself that if this wasn't the camp site I was just goin to pitch tent and say to the hell with it. As it turned out it was the campsite and because I'm a cyclist it was gonly $5! How cool is that?! If my leg isn't any better tomorrow then hell, I'm staying. It's only another five bucks, why the hell not right? It's right on the lake too, so the view is spectacular.
The woman who worked the front office of the camp ground was very friendly. A sign said "If I'm not here then walk around to lot 20 and find me". So that just what I did. It turns out that she had just sat down to talk with some friends not too far down the camp road. She laughed and told me to find a place then walk on over to the office. We got to talking, which led to laughing and sharing cycling stories. I then told her about my bum leg and when I hurt it. "You know those gals I was talkin' to over there? Go ask for an ice pack, they'll get you one". "I already love it here and may never leave", I told her with a big smile. After I paid my $5 for being a cyclist, just sayin', I went over to the two older woman in their 60's and asked them for some ice or an ice pack for my leg after apologizing for breaking up their fun with Merry, the manager. They laughed, said it was no trouble and both went into their own separate Rvs. One got me a bag of ice, the other got me an ice pack. The people in the country are super nice. A bit slow with how they work, but truly friendly.
As I sit here now iceing my leg there is a man behind me about 20 yards away or so that is worth mentioning. He is probably in his mid 40s and is wearing clothes only found in Nepolian Dynamite. He has just been sitting there with his two tiny little yippy dogs taking to the smaller, less harry of the two, on his lap. I've tried not to stare, but some thigns are just out of your control. Just until a moment ago I thought he lived alone with his two yippy little dogs. Turns out he lives with his mom (I think). This could get weird. One more person and then I'm done I swear. A nice man (joe dirt esq without the mullet) is in the trailer not too far away from me. He recently went out into the field to pick some flowering weeds and stick them in a lemonade jar to, and I quote, "Impress my lady friend who is currently mad at me". She's pretty but her two little kids (probably his) remind me of the two kids from Ricky Bobby. Walker and Texas Ranger. I'm just waiting for one to say "I'm gana come at you like a spider monkey!" and "Chip I'm going to scissor kick you in the back of the head!". This is truly a special place.
Thats it for today I hope you enjoyed it. I'm going to make camp and call it a night.
Adios!
Last night around 8:00pm (that's night to me now that I've been on the road) Wally (The fellow cyclist I met riding alone) and I hung out near the camp fire and talked about miscellaneous stuff, mostly about biking. Since we have both never toured before, but I had a few days under my belt, I told him about the mornings. "I usually wake up around 5:45." I said. It didn't take more than a few nano seconds for him to react exactly as I thought he would. It was the same way I would have reacted If someone told me this before I started riding. I didn't want to tell him the sun actually rises at about 5:15am and you actually wake up a few minutes before that, but he found that on his own. He also found out about the birds. For those who don't wake up to the crack of dawn on a daily basis outside in a tent (used to be me) all birds, not just some birds, or a few species of birds, but all god damn birds on the earth begin chirping away at each other the second the sky begins to turn to day. It really is miserable. Luckily for me tho, I've gotten semi-used to the squacks, chirps, peeps, beeps, pecks, clicks, whistles, flaps, screeches, screams, and any other noise a bird can make. Wally unfortunately had not. At Daybreak, what I thought was a raccoon trying to mess with our stuff, searching for anything for it to scrounger up in its thieving little hands, was actually Wally wide awake at 5:14am. It gave me a chuckle as I mouthed those four special little words ever so quietly as I laid my head back down in my tent and closed my eyes; "I told you so". I tired to go back to bed so I could have about 30 minutes of sleep left, but the between Wally decommissioning his tend and those god damn, short of murder, Alfred Hitchcock birds I was wide awake. When I finally got out of my tent Wally was about ready to go. I could see in his eyes he did not have a pleasent morning and woke up quite abruptly. All I had to do was look at him while smiling to have him reply "Those god damn birds". "Haha" I laughed, smiled and rolled back into my tent chuckling.
Wally left about 20 minutes before I did. I took my time packing up camp, checking and double checking, making sure I didnt drop anything. I'm already living out of a few bags. Losing something isn't an option. I left around 6:30am or so to began my day on the Erie Canal. Nearing just south east of Rochester I caught back up with Wally. "Hey buddy" I said cheerfully. "Hows it going?" His day before was only about 40 miles and he started at noon. He didn't look like he was having a blast. I was right. Turns out he did not expect any hills on his tour to Albany, NY, which by that point we had a few smaller rolling hills. We exchanged quick stories about what we saw. Did you see this? Did you see that? Was that homeless guy under the bridge dead or just sleeping? He didn't move for you either? Haha, yeah that actually happened. We started riding for a while longer before I took off again. I like to keep a pace of about 15mph with all of my gear. It doesnt sound that fast and that's because it's not. You carry 50lbs on a bike, going over hills and you tell me that's not a good speed. When it was only about 10:30 I stopped in this one little town for lunch. There were a fair amount of people there, either in the park for a birthday or moms with babies yoga. It was a pleasant surprise. Many of the towns resemble project Manhattan test sites with a few homes and nothing to eat. The yoga thing was pretty funny tho. A bunch of new moms all huddled around trees doing yoga with their kids in identical strollers facing each other like they had their own little group meeting. I came up with stories about what that kids would be talking about but I'll leave that to your imagination. Doing things like that is high brow entertainment out on the road. Always good for a laugh.
When I stopped for lunch I asked some woman, that was packing her child in the car, if there was a good breakfast place in town. She looked at me, said nothing, and continued on packing her child in the car. That really made things awkward. I wasn't sure if she was just being rude or if she didn't hear me. To top it all off there was a man pacing around, watching me on the other side of the road. It was almost like he wanted to say something, perhaps answer my question, but couldn't find the right words to. That too was very awkward. Very awkward people in that town. Fearing that the people in this town may all be socially inept I turned around and Vwala, a breakfast place with a $3.95 2 egg, sausage, home fries, and toast special. Sold.
Half way through my meal I heard a familiar voice behind me. "Okay, this is just getting creepy" It was Wally. He had recognized the same food opportunity as I had and decided to come to this town to get some breakfast. Again we shared stories about what we saw, mainly about the mothers doing yoga. Highlight of the day so far.
After breakfast we road for a bit and again I took off. This time we didn't cross paths again. The next major city I was to head north into the mountains and he was to continue east along the Erie Canal. Not soon after I turned north I came to my biggest hill yet, and destroyed it. I completed my first major hill! It felt good. Well, after panting like a hot dog for 5 minutes and downing a half a liter of water it felt good. The rest of the major uphills I wasn't so lucky. I would get about half way up and my legs would stop working. I had to walk the rest making the experience dreadful. I eventually got the hang of how to take on hill climbing and successfully did some more medium sized ones. The path led me to the cool old town of Williamston...burg or something in Northern NY, near Lake Ontario. The town was founded like 1804 or something and had some of the original churches, homes, and shops. It was very cool. Further north I finally hit Lake Ontario and took full advantage of that refreshing lake breeze. Today was 80*F, tomorrow will be 90*. It was and will be a great help as I continue down the lake. ALong the lake I came up to an old safe house / estate for the underground railroad. I stopped, looked around for a bit, fiddled with my bike and continued on the rolling hills. It was about this time when I pulled a muscle on my right thigh. It's the one on the left side right above the knee. Physiology majors help me out here. I had planned on going another 30 miles but my right leg was getting worse and worse. I just didn't have it in me. A few more miles of hills and I was only using my left leg to propel me. My right leg could help on the up swing, but I had to let it lose coming back down or a bolt of pain would shoot through the muscle and into my knee. Just about the point where I was going to stop again for a rest I came across a sign that said "Burnap's Fresh Fruit: Farm Market". I took my break there. A break at Burnap's Farmers Market was just what the doctor ordered. Not only does Burnap's carry fresh produce, they also offer lunches. I ordered a Turkey Sandwich on home made wheat toast, with lettuce, tomato, cucumber, pickle, topped off with a cranberry mayo. I also bought a few bananas and home made granola made with fresh maple syrup. I'm currently eating it with a spoon. Really delicious. Thankfully there was a campsite not too far away from my lunch spot so I could get off of my leg, but not without a few left legged up hills first. Up hill, down hill, up hill, back down, small up, big down and I saw some RVs. I had told myself that if this wasn't the camp site I was just goin to pitch tent and say to the hell with it. As it turned out it was the campsite and because I'm a cyclist it was gonly $5! How cool is that?! If my leg isn't any better tomorrow then hell, I'm staying. It's only another five bucks, why the hell not right? It's right on the lake too, so the view is spectacular.
The woman who worked the front office of the camp ground was very friendly. A sign said "If I'm not here then walk around to lot 20 and find me". So that just what I did. It turns out that she had just sat down to talk with some friends not too far down the camp road. She laughed and told me to find a place then walk on over to the office. We got to talking, which led to laughing and sharing cycling stories. I then told her about my bum leg and when I hurt it. "You know those gals I was talkin' to over there? Go ask for an ice pack, they'll get you one". "I already love it here and may never leave", I told her with a big smile. After I paid my $5 for being a cyclist, just sayin', I went over to the two older woman in their 60's and asked them for some ice or an ice pack for my leg after apologizing for breaking up their fun with Merry, the manager. They laughed, said it was no trouble and both went into their own separate Rvs. One got me a bag of ice, the other got me an ice pack. The people in the country are super nice. A bit slow with how they work, but truly friendly.
As I sit here now iceing my leg there is a man behind me about 20 yards away or so that is worth mentioning. He is probably in his mid 40s and is wearing clothes only found in Nepolian Dynamite. He has just been sitting there with his two tiny little yippy dogs taking to the smaller, less harry of the two, on his lap. I've tried not to stare, but some thigns are just out of your control. Just until a moment ago I thought he lived alone with his two yippy little dogs. Turns out he lives with his mom (I think). This could get weird. One more person and then I'm done I swear. A nice man (joe dirt esq without the mullet) is in the trailer not too far away from me. He recently went out into the field to pick some flowering weeds and stick them in a lemonade jar to, and I quote, "Impress my lady friend who is currently mad at me". She's pretty but her two little kids (probably his) remind me of the two kids from Ricky Bobby. Walker and Texas Ranger. I'm just waiting for one to say "I'm gana come at you like a spider monkey!" and "Chip I'm going to scissor kick you in the back of the head!". This is truly a special place.
Thats it for today I hope you enjoyed it. I'm going to make camp and call it a night.
Adios!
Monday, June 6, 2011
Born in the USA
Today started at 6:20am. It was the first time I've had to use my alarm clock since I started this trip. Probably because I spent nights 3 and 4 in the Howard Johnson Inn in Fort Erie. Resting up for a full day was exactly what my legs needed. They were absolutely terrible. It felt as if I had hit my thighs with a hammer for about 10 hours. Not comfortable.
When I left Fort Erie I headed north along the Niagara Parkway. It was beautiful. The landscape was lit orange and red with the rising sun on the morning dew. It was truly picture perfect. The Niagra river was to my right and colonial styled, and actual colonial homes from the 1700s were to my left. About 10 miles before I entered into Niagara Falls I came up to the historic town of Chippewa. How Chippewa came to become a historic town has to do with my "Days 3 and 4" entry. During the battle of 1812 there was a massive battle called The Battle of Chippewa. I stopped and saw a memorial park and the actual battle ground where soldiers and native American soldiers gave their lives to defeat the british. It was awe-inspiring to say the least. Just looking over the field I could almost hear the muskets firing and people yelling for covering fire. I envisioned lines of soldiers dressed in green, grey, and red coats, all storming against one another, and firing cannons filled with golf ball buck shot. To stand where men fought a major battle, to physically see the battle field from a war that long ago in our nations history was simply amazing. It took me a while to muster up the will power to leave such a historic front, but Niagara Falls was only about a mile away and I could see the river begin to turn rapid. As I moved closer to the falls the moisture in the air become more pungent. I could faintly hear the roar of the Canadian horseshoe falls and the water turned white. Riding along the endge of the river gave me a better appreciation for the forces at work that shaped the falls. It wasn't too long ago I took the Maid of the Mist tour into the falls with Katie, but riding along the entire river put it all into perspective. When I entered the path along the actual falls I stopped for a few minutes, took some pictures, and went on my way. I had seen the falls before so a little reminder was nice. They are truly remarkable, unlike the city, or should I say hollywood cluster-fuck that encompasses it. Following the actual falls are a set of hills that are pretty fun to climb up and ride down, that is, until you have to ride back up again, but whatever. About a half an hour later I was under the queenston bridge where my Adventure Cycling Maps told me to ride my bike onto and cross into The United States. The only problem is, is that these maps seem very outdated due to people like me who complain about it, but fail to actually do anything about it. Where the maps failed again was here. According to the maps I just go under the Queenston bridge, then do a little loop around and get into customs. Well, it turns out that customs security has been upgraded. I had to ride about 1.6 miles away from the bridge, turn onto the 403 (MAJOR EXPRESSWAY) and ride on the shoulder. Cars were buzzing past me at high speeds, truck blazing in the right hand lane. It was nerve racking. I then crossed the bridge into the USA with traffic and stood in line with all of the other cars. The looks on those peoples faces were priceless. Naturally I got a lot of questions from different cars and one man began to laugh and said "I have been traveling this bridge for a very long time and I have Never seen anything like this before. Are you even allowed to go through here?" I laughed and told him I haven't seen anything like it either. Even if customs didn't allow me to do it, what were they going to do? Deport me to where I'm going? When it was my turn to proceed to the New York customs police again he wasn't phased with what I was doing. We talked about my trip and he found it very cool and wished me luck.
When I entered the US I had an overwhelming feeling to sing "Born in the USA" and I did. Although I go by Canadian Bacon rules because I only know the words "Born in the USA" and I sing them over and over. I tried raising my arms in victory, but bike was unevenly weighted so it violently turned forcing me to grab back on. I made some calls and used my smart-phone for the first time in five days which was nice. Good to have technology on the road again. In New York I followed the Erie Canal to the camp ground / City park in Holley, MI. Along the way I saw one of the Adventure Cycling group tours ride past me. They started in Bar Harbor Maine, and are heading to Seattle, Washington. I would have been impressed hadn't been for the fact that they put all of their gear in a van following them. Wimps. I also met a kid from NY who was on his first day of his first tour ever. Because we were, and are, going to same way and the next campground is about 50 miles away, we decided to ride together to Holley and camp. He told me that the actual campground has been closed for years now (he got the about 10 minutes before me), but there was a park that was rumored to allow campers. I said "What the hell" and so we checked it out. It turned out that they do allow tents and it was free. Music to my ears. The town is quite small with a pizza place and a Subway being the only food open on a Sunday after 3. Go figure.
The lake Erie Canal is a great way to tour if you have never toured before. Because the trail hugs the man made canal within 5 feet at all times, it it a very smooth, flat ride. The road is not paved however, but is made of ground pebbles, then pack down, which makes it fairly decent to ride on. I recommend it to anyone who has never biked in NY before and wants to ride coast to coast.
The current time is 8:35pm on June 5th, 2011 and It's time for bed. Good night and I look forward to writing tomorrow.
When I left Fort Erie I headed north along the Niagara Parkway. It was beautiful. The landscape was lit orange and red with the rising sun on the morning dew. It was truly picture perfect. The Niagra river was to my right and colonial styled, and actual colonial homes from the 1700s were to my left. About 10 miles before I entered into Niagara Falls I came up to the historic town of Chippewa. How Chippewa came to become a historic town has to do with my "Days 3 and 4" entry. During the battle of 1812 there was a massive battle called The Battle of Chippewa. I stopped and saw a memorial park and the actual battle ground where soldiers and native American soldiers gave their lives to defeat the british. It was awe-inspiring to say the least. Just looking over the field I could almost hear the muskets firing and people yelling for covering fire. I envisioned lines of soldiers dressed in green, grey, and red coats, all storming against one another, and firing cannons filled with golf ball buck shot. To stand where men fought a major battle, to physically see the battle field from a war that long ago in our nations history was simply amazing. It took me a while to muster up the will power to leave such a historic front, but Niagara Falls was only about a mile away and I could see the river begin to turn rapid. As I moved closer to the falls the moisture in the air become more pungent. I could faintly hear the roar of the Canadian horseshoe falls and the water turned white. Riding along the endge of the river gave me a better appreciation for the forces at work that shaped the falls. It wasn't too long ago I took the Maid of the Mist tour into the falls with Katie, but riding along the entire river put it all into perspective. When I entered the path along the actual falls I stopped for a few minutes, took some pictures, and went on my way. I had seen the falls before so a little reminder was nice. They are truly remarkable, unlike the city, or should I say hollywood cluster-fuck that encompasses it. Following the actual falls are a set of hills that are pretty fun to climb up and ride down, that is, until you have to ride back up again, but whatever. About a half an hour later I was under the queenston bridge where my Adventure Cycling Maps told me to ride my bike onto and cross into The United States. The only problem is, is that these maps seem very outdated due to people like me who complain about it, but fail to actually do anything about it. Where the maps failed again was here. According to the maps I just go under the Queenston bridge, then do a little loop around and get into customs. Well, it turns out that customs security has been upgraded. I had to ride about 1.6 miles away from the bridge, turn onto the 403 (MAJOR EXPRESSWAY) and ride on the shoulder. Cars were buzzing past me at high speeds, truck blazing in the right hand lane. It was nerve racking. I then crossed the bridge into the USA with traffic and stood in line with all of the other cars. The looks on those peoples faces were priceless. Naturally I got a lot of questions from different cars and one man began to laugh and said "I have been traveling this bridge for a very long time and I have Never seen anything like this before. Are you even allowed to go through here?" I laughed and told him I haven't seen anything like it either. Even if customs didn't allow me to do it, what were they going to do? Deport me to where I'm going? When it was my turn to proceed to the New York customs police again he wasn't phased with what I was doing. We talked about my trip and he found it very cool and wished me luck.
When I entered the US I had an overwhelming feeling to sing "Born in the USA" and I did. Although I go by Canadian Bacon rules because I only know the words "Born in the USA" and I sing them over and over. I tried raising my arms in victory, but bike was unevenly weighted so it violently turned forcing me to grab back on. I made some calls and used my smart-phone for the first time in five days which was nice. Good to have technology on the road again. In New York I followed the Erie Canal to the camp ground / City park in Holley, MI. Along the way I saw one of the Adventure Cycling group tours ride past me. They started in Bar Harbor Maine, and are heading to Seattle, Washington. I would have been impressed hadn't been for the fact that they put all of their gear in a van following them. Wimps. I also met a kid from NY who was on his first day of his first tour ever. Because we were, and are, going to same way and the next campground is about 50 miles away, we decided to ride together to Holley and camp. He told me that the actual campground has been closed for years now (he got the about 10 minutes before me), but there was a park that was rumored to allow campers. I said "What the hell" and so we checked it out. It turned out that they do allow tents and it was free. Music to my ears. The town is quite small with a pizza place and a Subway being the only food open on a Sunday after 3. Go figure.
The lake Erie Canal is a great way to tour if you have never toured before. Because the trail hugs the man made canal within 5 feet at all times, it it a very smooth, flat ride. The road is not paved however, but is made of ground pebbles, then pack down, which makes it fairly decent to ride on. I recommend it to anyone who has never biked in NY before and wants to ride coast to coast.
The current time is 8:35pm on June 5th, 2011 and It's time for bed. Good night and I look forward to writing tomorrow.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Days 3 and 4
Day three started at 5:45am with the sunrise. After another day of riding 100+ miles the day before, day 3 was looking pretty good. I only had about 60 miles to Fort Erie where I was going to spend the night. It was the end of my first set of Adventure Cycling Maps (Lake Erie Connector) and my first break from all day riding. I arrived around 3pm to Fort Erie. When I came up to the town I road around for a bit and found the historic Fort Erie. The fort sat on top of a small hill with a road leading up to it.
As I rode up the road I noticed a guy about my age holding a musket, dressed in revolutionary war attire. Naturally I was intrigued. When I got to the top of the hill I started talking to the kid about the fort. It turns out he had only been working there for about a month now and had just been able to shoot his musket with live ammo the day before. He walked me through the procedure of how to load the musket and make sure it doesn't misfire or anything, which is exactly what happened twice in a row to him the day before, his first two times pulling the trigger. The way it happened was this. Four guys and himself got in a line to fire. It was a sort of demonstration for a big group of people who came through. He told me that when you load the musket and prepare to fire you look down and let the brim of your hat cover your eyes. This is so when the back powder explodes and burns, the smoke won't get in your eyes. (Explains a lot about those wars doesn't it?) Anyway so when the commander or whomever gave the order to fire, everyone pulled the trigger, lots of bangs went off, and then you look back at your weapon to make sure everything went well. Well, as for him, it didn't. He still had a live round in the barrel with the possibility that it could explode the barrel, sending shrapnel at him and everyone else. The weapons expert told him it would be okay and just load a little more powder in the hammer thing (I don't remember the name) and try again. Ready. Aim. Fire....Click. Nothing a second time. Everyone apparently back away except for the expert, they redid some stuff and it finally fired. He was also given the privilege of firing a mortar, which is pretty bad-ass in my book.
After a while of talking to him about the war of 1812 I learned my favorite story of the day. Apparently after the Americans took control of Fort Erie from the British they packed it full of powder kegs and blew it up, never to be used again. What else could be more American? If we can't use it, nobody can! Reports from Buffalo across the river said that when the explosion happened it lit up the sky like it was daytime with flames reaching over 250 feet in the air. THAT IS AWESOME! They rebuilt the fort, then a pile of rubble, in the height of the depression as a public works program and have been adding onto it ever since to make it exactly the same as it was. This is about the time where this kids shift was over and a red coat came out to guard the fort. I wanted nothing to do with the red coat so I said my goodbye and road around the town for a bit. I found a little motel to stay for the night and rest up.
When I woke up I was painfully sore from the past 260+ miles of riding and so I decided to take day 4 off. It turned out not to be such a bad idea seeing as how it is currently thunder storming out side, or as Canadians call it thunder showering. It will be good to have another day of rest. Besides, its not like I have to be anywhere. Right?
Cheers
As I rode up the road I noticed a guy about my age holding a musket, dressed in revolutionary war attire. Naturally I was intrigued. When I got to the top of the hill I started talking to the kid about the fort. It turns out he had only been working there for about a month now and had just been able to shoot his musket with live ammo the day before. He walked me through the procedure of how to load the musket and make sure it doesn't misfire or anything, which is exactly what happened twice in a row to him the day before, his first two times pulling the trigger. The way it happened was this. Four guys and himself got in a line to fire. It was a sort of demonstration for a big group of people who came through. He told me that when you load the musket and prepare to fire you look down and let the brim of your hat cover your eyes. This is so when the back powder explodes and burns, the smoke won't get in your eyes. (Explains a lot about those wars doesn't it?) Anyway so when the commander or whomever gave the order to fire, everyone pulled the trigger, lots of bangs went off, and then you look back at your weapon to make sure everything went well. Well, as for him, it didn't. He still had a live round in the barrel with the possibility that it could explode the barrel, sending shrapnel at him and everyone else. The weapons expert told him it would be okay and just load a little more powder in the hammer thing (I don't remember the name) and try again. Ready. Aim. Fire....Click. Nothing a second time. Everyone apparently back away except for the expert, they redid some stuff and it finally fired. He was also given the privilege of firing a mortar, which is pretty bad-ass in my book.
After a while of talking to him about the war of 1812 I learned my favorite story of the day. Apparently after the Americans took control of Fort Erie from the British they packed it full of powder kegs and blew it up, never to be used again. What else could be more American? If we can't use it, nobody can! Reports from Buffalo across the river said that when the explosion happened it lit up the sky like it was daytime with flames reaching over 250 feet in the air. THAT IS AWESOME! They rebuilt the fort, then a pile of rubble, in the height of the depression as a public works program and have been adding onto it ever since to make it exactly the same as it was. This is about the time where this kids shift was over and a red coat came out to guard the fort. I wanted nothing to do with the red coat so I said my goodbye and road around the town for a bit. I found a little motel to stay for the night and rest up.
When I woke up I was painfully sore from the past 260+ miles of riding and so I decided to take day 4 off. It turned out not to be such a bad idea seeing as how it is currently thunder storming out side, or as Canadians call it thunder showering. It will be good to have another day of rest. Besides, its not like I have to be anywhere. Right?
Cheers
Friday, June 3, 2011
Day 2
Yeah, so when I said I was excited for tomorrow, I was wrong. My second day on the road was north winds around 20 knots. I was traveling west so I fought the winds the whole way. At the end of the day I do not remember the last time I was so physically tired. Once I got in my tent I couldn't write I just slept.
Once I woke up I only remembered bits and pieces of the day, the rest was looking down at the road waiting for the wind to quit on me. What I do remember was being chased by two dogs 10 minutes apart within the first hour of the day. I also remember looking up at the sun every now and then, wondering why my shadow was facing west. "It has to be about 3 or 4pm" I thought. "There is no way this makes sense. Did I get turned around somewhere and backtrack?" I was partially dehydrated and a bit delusional. Safe to say I am never doing that again. Even though I swore I would only use my phone to call or text at night I decided to turn it on to check the time. IT WAS 11:49am! Not even the afternoon. I had already eaten breakfast, a snack, as well as food the entire time. I was still very hungry.
After a few more hours of riding I arrived at a small town. I found a general store so I decided to grab some food for the road. It has been rare that I ride through a town with any kind of food so it is a must stop. I asked the woman if there was a restaurant in town. After three days of riding I now realize how dumb of a question that was. She simply laughed and said "In this town? Try about 15 miles that way", and pointed to the west. Well, At least I am going that way. Before I left I bought a bag or Doritos, nacho cheese, a can of Pringels, and a muffin. I sat down and ate the whole can of Pringels in about 5 minutes.
The rest of my trip was pretty grueling. Up hill, down hill, and back up hill, into the wind, perpendicular to the wind, but it could have been worse. I met a bunch of great people and saw some amazing sights. Bed time tho. Ill talk about today, my third day next time I have internet.
Prost!
Once I woke up I only remembered bits and pieces of the day, the rest was looking down at the road waiting for the wind to quit on me. What I do remember was being chased by two dogs 10 minutes apart within the first hour of the day. I also remember looking up at the sun every now and then, wondering why my shadow was facing west. "It has to be about 3 or 4pm" I thought. "There is no way this makes sense. Did I get turned around somewhere and backtrack?" I was partially dehydrated and a bit delusional. Safe to say I am never doing that again. Even though I swore I would only use my phone to call or text at night I decided to turn it on to check the time. IT WAS 11:49am! Not even the afternoon. I had already eaten breakfast, a snack, as well as food the entire time. I was still very hungry.
After a few more hours of riding I arrived at a small town. I found a general store so I decided to grab some food for the road. It has been rare that I ride through a town with any kind of food so it is a must stop. I asked the woman if there was a restaurant in town. After three days of riding I now realize how dumb of a question that was. She simply laughed and said "In this town? Try about 15 miles that way", and pointed to the west. Well, At least I am going that way. Before I left I bought a bag or Doritos, nacho cheese, a can of Pringels, and a muffin. I sat down and ate the whole can of Pringels in about 5 minutes.
The rest of my trip was pretty grueling. Up hill, down hill, and back up hill, into the wind, perpendicular to the wind, but it could have been worse. I met a bunch of great people and saw some amazing sights. Bed time tho. Ill talk about today, my third day next time I have internet.
Prost!
Day 1
I began today, June 1st 2011 at 7:15 am Eastern time. My best friend matt, his mom, my mom, and my dad were all waiting for me. Matt had been home on leave from the marines for 13 days so it was a pleasure seeing my childhood friend whom I do not hesitate to call brother. I headed north in my Dragonmead Jersey and Black Bike shorts. It took me about 3.5 hours so go from Grosse Pointe Park to Marine City. Not bad timing considering I am on a touring bike and carrying about 50lbs of gear. When I hit marine city I asked a woman where I could get a good breakfast. She recommended me to The Riveriara, right next to the USA/CANADA customs ferry across the river. I immediately said "yes" partially because I felt as if I was starving and partially because The Riveriara or "The Riv" as it is known, was my girlfriend and my favorite bar in East Lansing, MI where we went to college together. In fact that is where we met. I'll tell that story another time. Although it has nothing to do with this trip, it is one for the books. Anyway I called my girlfriend although I couldn't hear her. Because of the terrible cell service I was able to make out 1 out of 5 words. Texting became the fallback.
After breakfast (2 scrambled eggs, 2 sausage links, 2 pieces of bacon, American home fries, 2 slices of ham, Pineapple, two pieces wheat toast, and all swished down with a small glass of OJ and water. mmmmmmmm. It was called "The Skipper". They had one called "The Captain" but even after 50 some odd miles I didn't think I would have been able to eat that. I was right, although three men sitting in front of me ordered "The Captain" and guaranteed they weren't biking 100 miles that day. Hey, America's Fat what can you do. It's who we are. But I digress. I crossed the ferry and was pleasantly surprised to meet a fan of Dragonmead
and his friend "A new MSU father sporting a Michigan state "S" hat. His daughter is attending this coming august. The two men, let's say Bill and Ted (no relation to the movie), were crossing into Canada to get their muskie license for the up coming tournament. They both though I was crazy but applauded my goal and were envious. One other man however standing next to them thought I was crazy and swore I am doing this because I lost a bet. He then said "And you trained for this....On PURPOSE?" I pleasantly laughed. Hey, I mean I have to be a little to moderately crazy. Don't I?
So, as I got off the boat and uneventfully passed though customs (the guy wasn't phased at all about my journey, but I guess that's his job) I headed through Canada. Heading east was probably the best thing I could have had that day. There were 20 knot winds from the west with gusts up to 28knots. IT WAS HEAVEN! I've only cycled into the wind or w/o wind at all so it was a true gift. The small miles I headed south or north I had that same wind causing me to cycle on an angle. It would have been funny had it not been me pedaling my ass off, although I did have a laugh about how ridiculous it was when I felt as if I was taking a turn on an Olympic downhill going dead strait.
My first stop was in a town called Dresden. I went to a banks ATM and took out Canadian money. Yes in Canada if you go to an ATM it spits out Canadian Money. I had that conversation a week prior with one of my close friends. Pretty funny, but if you have never done it before it makes you stop and marvel for a minute. Anyway after I got the cash I went to a convienence store to get some more water, three liters to be precise. I had already drained two liters in the states, filled up one, but drank it fast so I only had one more.
Walking out of the store a woman that was walking in and out and looking at the shelves looked at my hand, which was equiped with a power bar. 11 grams of protein.. bla bla bla it doesn't mater. She then looks at me and says "I'm power bar". Of course, like any sane person I thought I must have heard her wrong,
so I didn't think anything of it and I said "Excuse me?" Her reply was "I'm power bar" SHE SAID IT AGAIN! As I was about to walk away in utter confusion she follows up with "I work for Power Bar" "Okay", I thought. Thank makes sense although it is a weird way of stating that you work somewhere. What if I was at Dragonmead Microbrewery and walked up to a total stranger carrying a 4 pack of Final Absolution and said "I AM DRAGONMEAD!" In a zeus esq voice. Yeah. That person would have dropped the 4 pack and ran away. We then began talking about the new products and what not and we went on our seperate paths. But Evan, You are a marketing major. You are cycling around the United States and parts of Canada Go talk to her. She's a rep. Who knows where you will be in a year from now, you could have made a made a contact. I know I know just wait! As I was riding away I thought of that and turned around. I walked up to her, told her my story, gave her my name, my blog, and she gave me a few free bags of the new power energy bites! She was very enthusiastic about my trip and was blown away by it. It felt so good I needed to tell someone, but again No Service! So I told myself and a few farm animals as I passed. They looked at me with a blank stare while following the 20 bites-of-their-grass-before-swallowing-rule, but I know they were excited for me. I only wish I had gotten her name. That was dumb.
Continuing on I made a correct turn which I though was wrong, stopped, backtracked, turned back on my original route and realized that the road changed into another road, then continued 5 miles down that road. Get it? Me neither. Thanks Canada! Anyway I continued on and made it to my first weird encounter of the trip. My goal was to camp in Clearvill, at least that was until I did another dumb name mistake. As I was
resting in Morpeth. I was greeted by four people. Three of which were a mom and her two kids. The Boy kept saying how much he liked my handle bars. That was nice. I like them too. The mom laughed and the little girl was interested in how much water I was carrying. We exchanged our goodbyes and good lucks and off they went. This is where I met the fourth person and the reason why I didn't stay in clearvill. After the family left I looked to my right to see a man driving up in a golf cart. Now I didn't find anything weird about this. My family has been going down to Boca Grande, Florida my entire life and the most popular mode of transportation on Boca is by Golf Cart. The weird thing about this golf cart was that it was supposed to be on a golf course. The divot repair sand was still on the side, and there were straps on the back meant to carry golf clubs. I'm pretty sure he stole it. As he approached closer to me I tried to look away, but my lazy attempts to avoid him did not work what-so-ever. When he was about 10 feet from me, he parked his stolen cart at the abandoned gas station to my right. His hair looked as if he had just woke up (5:30pm) and he was wearing an xl short sleeve, gray shirt when he could have fit into a medium just fine. He was also wearing ratty cargo shorts. Big surprise. When he opened his mouth to talk I noticed he only had about 7 teeth. Most of which were molars. He began talking to me about how he is used to seeing cyclists and asked where I came from. I said I was from Detroit, MI (bad idea) and where I was headed. Niagara Falls (even worse Idea). He then asked me if I was camping along the way. This is where my brain failed at all defense measures. I told him I was planning on staying in Clearvill at the camp ground. WHY ON EARTH I told this strange, decrepit, borderline homeless looking man where I was staying...ALONE I have
not the slightest idea. He said he has never heard of one there and that I should stay at the rv park in Morpeth. Something had told me that is where he lives. It could have been the fact that he told me "I have tried them all" confirmed that feeling. He then said something I really didn't expect. He said, "Hey, why not come back with me? We can bunk together!". That's when I got the fuck out of there. He told me he would come with me, but my bike was probably faster. Jesus Christ! And here's where my brain failed me once more. To make it not seem so obvious that I thought he was a deranged x-con who probably been to the county pub then to the jail and back, I politely said "I have to get going, what was your name again?" (Idiot)
He told me his name and asked for mine. "Evan" I responded. Dumb. "What's your last name" he continued. Feringa. WHY WHY WHY WHY? I knew it was a bad move but I couldn't stop myself. Thankfully he said Meringa? And I said "Yes, Meringa. Thats it" Then I left with him telling me he is going to
tell his friends about me. Christ.
On the road again and scared he was going to get a truck from one of his homeless murderer friends I booked it. Wind at my back I kept on going and blew past Clearvill, past Another 2 camp grounds, past another city and ended up in New Glaslow and down to Port Glasgow where I made camp. I figured the golf cart wouldn't have been able to make it 20+ miles. Knowing I had pasta I stopped at this fresh food stand and got some of the best nectarines and tomatoes I have ever had. Along with white onion, green onion, and baby carrots. Yes, I still eat better than most people even when I am camping. My mother made sure of that. I made a stew with those ingrediants, using my camping knife to chop every thing in my hands and then cooked the pasta in it. So good, I just needed salt.
My first day I met such nice people. Being from a city I never thought I would have been treated so kindly by complete strangers. It was really amazing and I can't wait for tomorrow.
Oh yeah, I was the first cyclist of the season. Boo Ya!
Good Night.
After breakfast (2 scrambled eggs, 2 sausage links, 2 pieces of bacon, American home fries, 2 slices of ham, Pineapple, two pieces wheat toast, and all swished down with a small glass of OJ and water. mmmmmmmm. It was called "The Skipper". They had one called "The Captain" but even after 50 some odd miles I didn't think I would have been able to eat that. I was right, although three men sitting in front of me ordered "The Captain" and guaranteed they weren't biking 100 miles that day. Hey, America's Fat what can you do. It's who we are. But I digress. I crossed the ferry and was pleasantly surprised to meet a fan of Dragonmead
and his friend "A new MSU father sporting a Michigan state "S" hat. His daughter is attending this coming august. The two men, let's say Bill and Ted (no relation to the movie), were crossing into Canada to get their muskie license for the up coming tournament. They both though I was crazy but applauded my goal and were envious. One other man however standing next to them thought I was crazy and swore I am doing this because I lost a bet. He then said "And you trained for this....On PURPOSE?" I pleasantly laughed. Hey, I mean I have to be a little to moderately crazy. Don't I?
So, as I got off the boat and uneventfully passed though customs (the guy wasn't phased at all about my journey, but I guess that's his job) I headed through Canada. Heading east was probably the best thing I could have had that day. There were 20 knot winds from the west with gusts up to 28knots. IT WAS HEAVEN! I've only cycled into the wind or w/o wind at all so it was a true gift. The small miles I headed south or north I had that same wind causing me to cycle on an angle. It would have been funny had it not been me pedaling my ass off, although I did have a laugh about how ridiculous it was when I felt as if I was taking a turn on an Olympic downhill going dead strait.
My first stop was in a town called Dresden. I went to a banks ATM and took out Canadian money. Yes in Canada if you go to an ATM it spits out Canadian Money. I had that conversation a week prior with one of my close friends. Pretty funny, but if you have never done it before it makes you stop and marvel for a minute. Anyway after I got the cash I went to a convienence store to get some more water, three liters to be precise. I had already drained two liters in the states, filled up one, but drank it fast so I only had one more.
Walking out of the store a woman that was walking in and out and looking at the shelves looked at my hand, which was equiped with a power bar. 11 grams of protein.. bla bla bla it doesn't mater. She then looks at me and says "I'm power bar". Of course, like any sane person I thought I must have heard her wrong,
so I didn't think anything of it and I said "Excuse me?" Her reply was "I'm power bar" SHE SAID IT AGAIN! As I was about to walk away in utter confusion she follows up with "I work for Power Bar" "Okay", I thought. Thank makes sense although it is a weird way of stating that you work somewhere. What if I was at Dragonmead Microbrewery and walked up to a total stranger carrying a 4 pack of Final Absolution and said "I AM DRAGONMEAD!" In a zeus esq voice. Yeah. That person would have dropped the 4 pack and ran away. We then began talking about the new products and what not and we went on our seperate paths. But Evan, You are a marketing major. You are cycling around the United States and parts of Canada Go talk to her. She's a rep. Who knows where you will be in a year from now, you could have made a made a contact. I know I know just wait! As I was riding away I thought of that and turned around. I walked up to her, told her my story, gave her my name, my blog, and she gave me a few free bags of the new power energy bites! She was very enthusiastic about my trip and was blown away by it. It felt so good I needed to tell someone, but again No Service! So I told myself and a few farm animals as I passed. They looked at me with a blank stare while following the 20 bites-of-their-grass-before-swallowing-rule, but I know they were excited for me. I only wish I had gotten her name. That was dumb.
Continuing on I made a correct turn which I though was wrong, stopped, backtracked, turned back on my original route and realized that the road changed into another road, then continued 5 miles down that road. Get it? Me neither. Thanks Canada! Anyway I continued on and made it to my first weird encounter of the trip. My goal was to camp in Clearvill, at least that was until I did another dumb name mistake. As I was
resting in Morpeth. I was greeted by four people. Three of which were a mom and her two kids. The Boy kept saying how much he liked my handle bars. That was nice. I like them too. The mom laughed and the little girl was interested in how much water I was carrying. We exchanged our goodbyes and good lucks and off they went. This is where I met the fourth person and the reason why I didn't stay in clearvill. After the family left I looked to my right to see a man driving up in a golf cart. Now I didn't find anything weird about this. My family has been going down to Boca Grande, Florida my entire life and the most popular mode of transportation on Boca is by Golf Cart. The weird thing about this golf cart was that it was supposed to be on a golf course. The divot repair sand was still on the side, and there were straps on the back meant to carry golf clubs. I'm pretty sure he stole it. As he approached closer to me I tried to look away, but my lazy attempts to avoid him did not work what-so-ever. When he was about 10 feet from me, he parked his stolen cart at the abandoned gas station to my right. His hair looked as if he had just woke up (5:30pm) and he was wearing an xl short sleeve, gray shirt when he could have fit into a medium just fine. He was also wearing ratty cargo shorts. Big surprise. When he opened his mouth to talk I noticed he only had about 7 teeth. Most of which were molars. He began talking to me about how he is used to seeing cyclists and asked where I came from. I said I was from Detroit, MI (bad idea) and where I was headed. Niagara Falls (even worse Idea). He then asked me if I was camping along the way. This is where my brain failed at all defense measures. I told him I was planning on staying in Clearvill at the camp ground. WHY ON EARTH I told this strange, decrepit, borderline homeless looking man where I was staying...ALONE I have
not the slightest idea. He said he has never heard of one there and that I should stay at the rv park in Morpeth. Something had told me that is where he lives. It could have been the fact that he told me "I have tried them all" confirmed that feeling. He then said something I really didn't expect. He said, "Hey, why not come back with me? We can bunk together!". That's when I got the fuck out of there. He told me he would come with me, but my bike was probably faster. Jesus Christ! And here's where my brain failed me once more. To make it not seem so obvious that I thought he was a deranged x-con who probably been to the county pub then to the jail and back, I politely said "I have to get going, what was your name again?" (Idiot)
He told me his name and asked for mine. "Evan" I responded. Dumb. "What's your last name" he continued. Feringa. WHY WHY WHY WHY? I knew it was a bad move but I couldn't stop myself. Thankfully he said Meringa? And I said "Yes, Meringa. Thats it" Then I left with him telling me he is going to
tell his friends about me. Christ.
On the road again and scared he was going to get a truck from one of his homeless murderer friends I booked it. Wind at my back I kept on going and blew past Clearvill, past Another 2 camp grounds, past another city and ended up in New Glaslow and down to Port Glasgow where I made camp. I figured the golf cart wouldn't have been able to make it 20+ miles. Knowing I had pasta I stopped at this fresh food stand and got some of the best nectarines and tomatoes I have ever had. Along with white onion, green onion, and baby carrots. Yes, I still eat better than most people even when I am camping. My mother made sure of that. I made a stew with those ingrediants, using my camping knife to chop every thing in my hands and then cooked the pasta in it. So good, I just needed salt.
My first day I met such nice people. Being from a city I never thought I would have been treated so kindly by complete strangers. It was really amazing and I can't wait for tomorrow.
Oh yeah, I was the first cyclist of the season. Boo Ya!
Good Night.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Leaving Tomorrow!
Woooo! I'm leaving tomorrow. The weather has been and is looking really solid lately. It looks like this is a window for me to leave and that is precisely what I am doing. Also the westerly winds will probably help. I'm excited. I'll update when I cross into canada. I'm really excited as to what customs is going to say.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Easterly Winds
Holy downpour batman...but seriously the east is miserable. I went to Niagara falls for the weekend with my girlfriend and had planned on cycling from there to Holley, NY, then continuing onto Ticonderoga and further. What I didn't plan on was the equal amount of rain falling from the sky as was cascading from the two falls themselves. I want this trip to be an adventure and not Point A to Point B and so on. I am not doing this so I can say I did it. That is the last thing I want out of this adventure. I want to experience the country, its people, its cultures, and everything in between. The last thing I want is to be suffering through torrential downpours with my head down cursing at every drop. I'm going to give the weather another week, 2 tops. If the east still looks like a barrage of thunderstorms that only Zeus could have dreamt up himself after a night of tequila shots and failed conquests, then I am saying, "Screw it, I'm headin' west." I'll head on south through Ohio (as fast as I can) and meet up in Kentucky on the Trans-America trail. I don't think I could have picked a worse spring to do this. Ugh.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Delay
So I got sick. Started out with just a sore throat and escalated. I was going to meet my girlfriend in Niagara Falls this weekend on my bike, now I may just drive with her, bring my bike, and start from there. All dependent on if I can get all of my gear in the car.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
18 days
I just looked at my countdown app on my phone...I leave in 18 days! I'm kind of freeking out a bit, but I'm really excited.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Sunday, April 17, 2011
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