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 ride.
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!

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? Can 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!"

Rutland VT to Claremont NH
58.2 miles; 11:25-6:00; 60s, 70s, rain, shine, clouds, sun
"The longest journey is the journey 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 longest 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.

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!

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 tee 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 affrey 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!

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.

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 CBS/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 he 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?

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.