NorthEast Two-Wheel Tour
Monday, May 24, 2004
Saturday, 22 May: Uxbridge MA to Providence RI
20.7 miles; 8:15-11:30; low 60s, overcast.
If a man rides from coast-to-coast, and no TV stations record his finish, did the ride matter?
Thankfully, I don't have to answer that question. I called the three network affiliates, and the CDB/Fox station showed up. The morning's ride was beset with problems - a flat tire and a bridge out on the bike trail put me behind schedule, forcing me to let Sue drive me the last few miles into Providence to the waiting TV reporter. In town, road construction left us lost so hopelessly that the cameraman had to come find us.
Andy Mihail proved genial despite our delays. We chatted while he set up, and he mentioned that he was from northern Indiana. "I rode through there. I talked at schools in Walkerton and Kendallville."
"Really?" he asked. "My mother teaches at Walkerton Elementary."
"You're kidding! That was the first school I spoke at this year!" Can we say 'small world'?
He did a great job filming me from several angles, conducting a short interview. In closing, he asked if the hours I had spent cycling had left me time to think and make any great philosophic conclusions. I pondered that, and one thing occurred to me.
On this ride I was able to mostly forget about time. Other than reaching the schools on schedule, I could amble along. If I reached town at 4:00 versus 6:00, who cared? If I chose to spend an extra hour at a national park, I could. Why do we allow our lives to be so ruled by the clock, rushing back and forth like rats in a maze? Are the things we clutter our lives with so important that we should lose the opportunities to enjoy the subtle, spontaneous joys of life?
Postscript
How appropriate. As we raced down I-95 en route to Sue's parents' home, we passed a spot where someone had lost a suitcase from their roof rack. Strewn for a hundred yard along the center median of the freeway was that poor soul's wardrobe. Shirts. Pants. Shoes.
And, of course....
Underwear by the Roadside.
20.7 miles; 8:15-11:30; low 60s, overcast.
If a man rides from coast-to-coast, and no TV stations record his finish, did the ride matter?
Thankfully, I don't have to answer that question. I called the three network affiliates, and the CDB/Fox station showed up. The morning's ride was beset with problems - a flat tire and a bridge out on the bike trail put me behind schedule, forcing me to let Sue drive me the last few miles into Providence to the waiting TV reporter. In town, road construction left us lost so hopelessly that the cameraman had to come find us.
Andy Mihail proved genial despite our delays. We chatted while he set up, and he mentioned that he was from northern Indiana. "I rode through there. I talked at schools in Walkerton and Kendallville."
"Really?" he asked. "My mother teaches at Walkerton Elementary."
"You're kidding! That was the first school I spoke at this year!" Can we say 'small world'?
He did a great job filming me from several angles, conducting a short interview. In closing, he asked if the hours I had spent cycling had left me time to think and make any great philosophic conclusions. I pondered that, and one thing occurred to me.
On this ride I was able to mostly forget about time. Other than reaching the schools on schedule, I could amble along. If I reached town at 4:00 versus 6:00, who cared? If I chose to spend an extra hour at a national park, I could. Why do we allow our lives to be so ruled by the clock, rushing back and forth like rats in a maze? Are the things we clutter our lives with so important that we should lose the opportunities to enjoy the subtle, spontaneous joys of life?
Postscript
How appropriate. As we raced down I-95 en route to Sue's parents' home, we passed a spot where someone had lost a suitcase from their roof rack. Strewn for a hundred yard along the center median of the freeway was that poor soul's wardrobe. Shirts. Pants. Shoes.
And, of course....
Underwear by the Roadside.
Friday, 21 May: Ashby to Townsend to Uxbridge MA
63.3 miles; 8:55-10:25 & 12:25-6:25; sunny, 80s.
"Timing is everything," Caitlin's father reiterated. "Caitlin needs a bit of inspiring right now. I think she'll really appreciate this medal."
Timing IS everything, and my timing failed me. My final, climactic talk was well received, but Caitlin - the reason I had Townsend on my route, the reason I went so far north - was not there to enjoy it. She had fallen ill, and was at the doctor's office this morning. After speaking, Sue and I went down to her father's office (he works at the school) to say 'Hi' and to give him the medal we had prepared for his daughter. He was visibly touched, and apologized for her absence.
The rest of the day featured a high-speed run unencumbered by panniers - with Sue here, I dropped my load into the car. The first couple hours excelled in scenery, until we started miles of mill towns and heavy traffic.
Sunday, May 23, 2004
Thursday, 20 May: Keene NH to Ashby MA
49.5 miles; 11:40-5:00; 73 at 3:00, sunny.
Another phenomenal day, as things definitely build to tomorrow's climax - and it seems as if each school provides a key for the day to come. Karen's bagels Tuesday provided a perfect breakfast Wednesday, when my early (7:30) start left me with little time to visit a cafe. The long-sleeve t-shirt I received from Stevens High helped ward off the evening chill that night while camping, since I had no other long-sleeves.
The night was perfect for camping, with temps dropping into the 40s and a campground in the woods of Wheelock Park. Symonds Elementary was adjacent to the park, where I gave a shortened talk to the second graders, then led them on a litter pickup in the park. They lit into their cleanup with glee, scouring the grounds for any stray trash. Afterwards, as I packed up, fifth graders showed up in the library, so on request I proceeded to show them my video and answer questions.
Following my talk, I headed east on the bike trail, and was quickly flagged down by Eric. "I saw you bike by my house, but couldn't catch you. I'm an old-time bike tourist, and my son," he said, pointing to 5-year-old Tyler, is a future bike tourist. In another couple years, we're going to bicycle to California!" He told me how to get around the trail detour, and asked if he could help in any other way.
The key that Symonds ES provided for me was directions to Townsend. Of three possible routes, they recommended the middle one - less traffic, more scenic, and (of course) more hilly. The road to Jaffrey was the second most strenuous of the trip. In Jaffrey, they urged me to stop at Kimball's for lunch - good choice! A popular spot with picnic table outside, generous portions, renowned seafood - and incredible homemade ice cream. I shared a table with Steve McCallum and friend, enjoying company and lunch.
The remainder of the day featured one short climb and lot of downhill to Townsend, where I thought my luck had run out - no motels or B&Bs in town! It took a couple of phone calls to find a B&B in Ashby, 8 miles west (and above) Townsend. What a find! Jim Mayrand, who runs Woodside Farm B&B with his wife Karen, was into cycling big time (years ago, he took part in an effort to set the mark for most miles cycled in one 24-hour period). We swapped tales of cycling over dinner, until his kids Daniel and Caitlin stole me away to look at a tree they had planted for Arbor Day. Tomorrow for breakfast - eggs laid by their chickens tonight!
Wednesday, 19 May: Claremont to Keene NH
44.2 miles; 1:00-4:50; 60s and sunny.
Another premier biking day - in the 60s, sunny skies, lush terrain, quaint villages. Hard to believe I'm nearly done...
Another warm reception at Stevens High School. During my third talk, they recorded my comments for a possible spot on NPR. After my fourth presentation, they gave me a Stevens HS shirt "to remember us by." (As if I could forget such friendliness!) Then before I could ride off into the noonday sun, Paul Couture (the principal) invited me to eat in the cafeteria, and we had a nice chat as I downed a light lunch. Thanks, Paul!
Wednesday, May 19, 2004
Tuesday, 18 May: Rutland VT to Claremont NH
58.2 miles; 11:25-6:00; 60s, 70s, rain, shine, clouds, sun
"The longest journey is the hourney inwards. Of him who has chosen his destiny, who has started upon his quest for the source of his being."
That quote from Dag Hammarskjold appeared on the 'Thank You' card from Karen McDonnell, who arranged my talk in Rutland. It came along with a bag of bagels and power bars to give me the energy to tackle the Green Mountains. Thanks!
While today may not be the high point of the trip, it was the highest point (in terms of elevation) since some forgotten hill in Kansas. The road east of Rutland rose for nine miles to cross Sherburne Pass, all of 2190' above sea level. The climb was far easier than my three big climbs in 2002, at least until the forecast showers arrived 15 minutes before I crested the pass. The rain climbing was a minor irritation, but a major pain on the opposite side. Wet pavement and heavy traffic had me gripping on the brakes down to Killington, where a lunch stop let me wait out the rain.
The remaining ride was terrific - a long downhill run beside the Ottauquechee River through a forested valley to Woodstock. In town I took a biking break to hike for an hour through Vermont's national park, wandering through the verdant woods as the sun finally burned through the clouds. Then it was another 25 miles to Claremont, with a short climb and a high-speed drop as I found a shortcut away from the traffic on US4. Near the end, I experienced another first: bicycling over a wooden bridge. Specifically, the longet wooden bridge in the US, and the longest two-span covered bridge in the world. I maintained an iron grip on my handlebars, praying there were no gaps between the boards that could snag my tires.
Monday, 17 May: Glens Falls NY to Rutland VT
58.8 miles; 12:15-5:00; 70s, sunny
Another fine day for cycling - temps in the 70s, a wisp of a cool breeze, and sunny skies. The first five miles of climbing out of the Hudson Valley featured several hills, but then the roads followed the valleys, staying mostly flat all the way to Rutland. A slight but significant difference from places like Ohio: instead of farmland stretching to the horizon, I watched farms hemmed in by forested hills.
'Twas my youngest crowd at the school this morning - I talked to the first grade classes. Still, they did better at answering my questions than some older kids. The cutest question they asked: "Can we see Caitlin's coin? Cna you pass it around?"
After class I was off to the bike shop for a final tuneup (my derailleurs were acting up) before tomorrow's big climb. When I told Bill the mechanic of my journey, his eyes lit up and he confessed to a desire to do the same. When I told him of my litter-fighting efforts, his smile grew broader - "I'm a devout litter-hater myself!"
Monday, May 17, 2004
Sunday, 16 May: Johnstown to Glens Falls NY via Great Sacondaga Lake
58.0 miles; 9:40-3:30; 50s and 60s, partly cloudy - BEAUTIFUL!
If I classified riding through the suburbs of Chicago and Buffalo as a 'visual cacophony', I could extend the analogy and call the endless miles of farmland as 'visual white noise'. The Finger Lakes? Maybe an overture.
In those same terms, today's ride ranked as a full-fledged symphony. I dipped into the southern part of Adirondack Mountain Park, riding the west and north shores of Great Sacondaga Lake. Lush forests, shimmering waters, quaint cottages, and mild hills marked the day, likely the most scenic ride of this entire three-year epic. It felt like a grand finale as I began the last week of my coast-to-coast.
As I sat admiring the scene from the overlook at the end of the lake, a man my age and his father pulled up to look. The father said to me, "The last time we were here, an eagle flew over and landed on that rock right there... We're not leaving here until we see another one!" His son grabbed their ice chest, and handed me a sandwich. Within minutes as we visited over lunch, a young eagle appeared over the tree tops, riding on the updrafts. What a way to underscore the wonderful day!
Saturday. 15 May: Rome to Johnstown, NY
65.7 miles; 11:00-5:20; high 60s, cloudy, some rain.
Today's ride was great, except it lasted ten minutes too long. The day cooled off as predicted, with temps in the high 60s under a gray sky, and the forecast showers only dampened me for 15 minutes after lunch. As I approached Johnstown, however, the skies grew foreboding and the wind picked up (to my back, fortunately). I must have averaged 20 mph the last six miles into town, racing the storm -- and as I entered the town limits, the heavens let loose. Sheets of rain drenched me. By the time I reached downtown and shelter two miles later, it had quit, leaving one very wet biker.
Friday, May 14, 2004
Friday, 14 May: Skanateales to Rome NY
71.0 miles; 9:45-5:35; 80s, sunny, humid.
Today my route-picking skills left a lot to be desired. I branched from US20 onto NY175, enjoying a long, high-speed downhill run to Marcellus. I paid for that with a 1 1/3-mile-long relentless climb out of town. Next it was another cannonball run down into Onandaga, with an even steeper 1-mile climb out. Down into Jamesville, and a lowest-gear climb out. And twice - twice! - motorists turned right directly in my path, forcing me to brake.
By the time I coasted into Manlius, I was ready for lunch and a change of terrain. For lunch I took my chance on a door marked 'Italian Affair' in an empty strip mall. As I walked in, the waitress immediately asked how far I was riding - "We had three guys from England here last year, riding from -- Jeff! Where were the Brits riding from?"
Soon the cook was asking me questions, Jeff (the owner) was listening in, and a regular patron waiting for friends was telling me of the road ahead. "If you head north five miles, you can ride the Erie Canal trail. Let me call my wife; she'll know if it goes all the way to Rome."
By the time his friends arrived, I had to repeat for them the tales of my travels. After I finished lunch and was telling them anecdotes, the waitress brought me a big bowl of their home-made soup. Then Jeff brought out a book about the Erie Canal (written and published by his neighbors) to look at while eating. By the time I left, they refused to take my money, so I left them a copy of my book. Thanks, Jeff and gang!
Back on the road, I took their suggestion and reached the 'Long Level' portion of the old Erie Canal: a 36-mile stretch with no locks - flat as a pancake! For 25-miles I rode on the multi-use path beside the canal, and hit another 15 on adjacent roads. Nice to escape hills and escape traffic at the same time!
Thursday, 13 May: Bloomfield to Skaneatales NY
59.9 miles; 12:40-6:50; 80s/sunny --> 60s/lightning storm --> 70s/humid.
I had marked the day for misery, but it surprised me - pleasantly. Two school talks kept me tied up until noon, and by the time I hit the road it was in the 80s. After only two hills, I dreaded a long day. But then I entered the shadow of the thunderhead, with lightning surrounding me. By the time I reached my first town, the temps had dropped to the low 60s. The light rain was over in only 30 minutes, but the temps stayed mild and the hills disappeared for 30 miles. I enjoyed one mile pedalling along the trail beside Seneca Lake, basking in its beauty.
I got to try something new at Bloomfield Elementary School. Since the kids hadn't seen me arrive, I hid in the locker room as they filed into the gymnasium. The teachers then played the To Tell The Truth video, letting the kids guess which contestant I was. I walked in at the end to hearty applause. After my presentation, around 30 kids asked for my autograph.
Wednesday, 12 May: Cheektowaga to Bloomfield NY
78.5 miles; 11:40-6:10; 80s, sunny humid.
It was great camping at the school last night, and having access to the building. I was able to write yesterday's weblog directly onto the computer, instead of copying it in later. This morning the kids were again great, with a handful asking for my autograph. Thankfully only a few - I couoldn't have lasted through signing a hundred!
I then took a break to visit a National Park site in Buffalo before starting late in the heat of the day. The day was long (my second longest of this leg so far), and despite a vow not to push hard in the heat, I still averaged over 16 mph the first 50 miles. After Avon, the hills worsened and slowed me down. The land is beautiful - rolling hills with woods and farms mingling - but the going is getting tough. And no more cool lake breezes!
Tuesday, May 11, 2004
Tuesday, 11 May: Westfield to Cheektowaga NY
67.5 miles; 11:45-6:00; foggy chilly morning, then light overcast, high about 70?
Today's school crowd was small: only 9 kids in the gifted/talented program. However, they made up in enthusiasm what they lacked in numbers. With a longer time frame, I could speak longer about the walk, telling them anecdotes for my time on the road. When I finished, they all asked for my autograph. Then as I changed into biking gear and packed up, they ran outside and picked up a garbage bag full of trash around the school. Finally, they raced me down the street as I got on my way.
Again, the day had a Jekyll-and-Hyde personality. The morning was cool, with the fog rolling off the lake and lingering in the numerous vineyards. AFter lunch, the fog lifted to a light overcast, and the quiet country road became a 30-mile, 4-lane strip of retail and residential sprawl. Then, trying to circle Buffalo to reach the Cheektowaga suburb left me on busy city streets with several miles of construction.
Sometimes it's nice to know I made a good choice. When I arrived in town, I could have checked in to the motel across the street from the school, likely paid $70, and spent the night vegetating in front of a TV set. Instead, I asked to camp, and the school volunteered their property. When I got to the school, I met the principal, the vice-principal, the school superintendent, another principal, several teachers, and a couple custodians - all eager to help. As I set up the tent, seven or eight students arrived to assist me. The staff invited me to use the showers, and gave me a 24-hour pass card so that I could get in the building overnight if I needed to use the restroom. Thank you all!
Monday, 10 May: Conneaut OH thru PA to Westfield NY
65.7 miles; 9:20-3:10; sunny, in the 80s
Let's call it the near-disaster day - repeatedly. I stopped in Erie PA at a bike shop to get another spare tube (yesterday's flat was not patchable) and to get the tires trued. The mechanic said I came in just in time - the spokes had loosened enough (as new wheels are wont to do) that one good pothole would have 'exploded' my wheel. The it was the rest of another high-speed jaunt (averaging nearly 20 mph the last 15 miles) into Westfield - where I hit that 'one good pothole' coming into town. The wheel survived better than the rack holding my panniers - the mounting bracket sheared nearly all the way through. Thankfully the hardware store was able to customize me a new one, of steel not aluminum.
Next, as I'm heading to the school, a kid on a bike began crossing the street directly in my path. If he hadn't stopped when I quickly yelled, I would have hit him broadside. On my way back into town later, I nearly got hit by a door suddenly opening from a parked car. Finally, I scheduled my first night of camping, only to have showers and lightning begin when I went to bed. And the 13th is still three days away!
Monday, May 10, 2004
Sunday, 9 May: Solon to Conneaut OH
79.8 miles; 9:20-6:20; 80s, sunny, cool lake breeze.
How different two halves of a day can be! The morning I rode sans panniers several miles on the regional bike trail, then got directions for a country road heading north: little traffic (and lots of bikes!), stately homes, great scenery, and (unfortunately) a plethora of potholes. In contrast, after Tim left, the long afternoon featured fifty miles along US20, marked by numerous stop lights, heavy traffic, urban sprawl, and only two farms. Still, my last day in Ohio was again highlighted by friendly faces, from the explicit and detailed directions from a fellow cyclist to the elderly couple I met at the ice cream stand, who offered to ride me the last ten eight miles into town (sadly turned down) and then drove ahead to locate a motel for me.
Saturday, 8 May: Cuyahoga Valley NP to Solon OH
21.7 miles; 11:40-12:40 & 6:00-7:00; 80s, sunny.
A bit early for a vacation day, but when I hit a National Park, I'm going to enjoy it! A friend joined me for the weekend, and Tim and I hiked to a waterfall, biked along the towpath, and took a train ride. With a hot day on tap, it was nice to put half the biking off until early evening. Still I found a bit of friendliness when a shop owner, hearing of my ride, told us about her town then walked us over to the neighboring bookstore/cafe and introduced me.
Friday, 7 May - Norwalk to Cuyahoga Valley National Park
56.0 miles; 11:50-6:00; rain and 40s, then clearing and low 50s.
I guess I have to experience everything on this coast-to-coast, and that includes weather. 2002 threw windstorms and a blizzard at me, and last year I dodged tornadoes. It was time to endure a steady, soaking, sodden rain. I didn't get started until nearly noon - Sue Goodsite (Pleasant ES principal) and I kept chatting after my presentation. By 12:30 the rain had returned, lasting three hours. It's all about attitude, though, and I slogged through it knowing it would soon end. (If my disasters yesterday had happened with today's weather, it'd have been a different story.)
Best question from today's talk: "Did you ever meet a drunk person on your walk?" We think so.
As I entered the National Park, I noticed a resident eyeing me. I stopped to talk with Chick, checking my directions to the hostel. First he gave me a very detailed description of the route, then hopped in his car to lead me the short distance. Halfway there he stopped to introduce me to his nephew. More Ohio hospitality!
Thursday, 6 May - Pemberville to Sandusky Bay 'No Bikes Allowed' Bridge
54.0 miles; 9:00-8:20 & 10:10-4:30; 84, sunny.
Thank heavens I'm in Ohio -- if I were in a less giving area, today would have been a complete disaster.
The day began well enough. I woke up with music (the bike shop had a stereo), then Larry met me for breakfast - and of course, he grabbed the check. Then I had a delightful time at Eastwood Middle School - since I had more time available, I started with the To Tell The Truth video. Picture this - a gymnasium full of 6th-8th graders, lights out, with the video projected on a screen. They cheered with the studio audience, and the boys hooted and hollered when they introduced panelist Brooke Burns from Bay Watch Hawaii. They were quick with answers to my questions, and I had time to answer all their queries. One boy asked, "Did you ever find any dead bodies?" He was surprised when I explained how we nearly did. Afterwards the staff took a picture with me, and presented me with an Eastwood polo shirt.
It wasn't until I left that things went downhill. Three miles from school I suffered my first flat. No problem, I figured I'd get some this trip. Big problem, my tire mounting/dismounting tool had disappeared. It was thumb a ride, or call... The principal drove out with a screwdriver so I could fix the tire and get motoring.
On to Port Clinton to catch the ferry. The delay menat I had to push hard, but with a tail breeze I again broke 17 mph. Somehow I missed the first ferry port - no problem, it wasn't running yet this season (despite the claims of their website). As I cruised to the next one eight miles further, a local in a convertible flagged me down. "You're the first one I've seen this year," he said as he rolled up his pant leg to show me a BikeCentennial tattoo. "I rode across in '76. I'm hoping to get laid off this summer so I can hit the road again." He drove ahead of me to the ferry port, and gave me last-minute hints.
As I left the ferry at Put-in-Bay, I asked where to catch the return ferry to Sandusky. "There is no ferry to Sandusky from here," the sailor reported. Big problem - if I had to return on this ferry, I would never reach Norwalk in time for my dinner invitation - especially since they allowed no bikes on the Sandusky Bay Bridge, and a detour would add 30 miles. So I went to the Perry Monument to refill both empty water bottles, and checked the town piers for confirmation - no ferry to Sandusky (again, their web site had misled me).
Out of luck, I returned to the ferry back to Catawba. On board, I reached for my water bottles - and realized I'd left them at the monument. Okay - one disaster I can handle, two maybe I can grind through, but three? Time to give in. I called ahead to Norwalk, and the principal sent her husband to rescue me at the foot of the bridge.
Thankfully the evening was incredible. The home-cooked dinner was delicious, the company entertaining - we wound up talking from 6:00 to 10:30. Now it's time to rest for another day.
