And More New York

This week I have a couple stories to tell which will take up the majority of my post. The pictures will have to fill you in on the rest. 

I started out in Watertown/Fort Drum, where I'd spent the night in a hotel someone set me up with. Because hotels aren't apt to say, "Oh, stay as long as you want, we don't mind..", or at least, when they do so, it's with the expectation of what, in my estimation, seems almost extravagant pecuniary compensation, I was pushed for time when it came to writing emails, going through my pictures, and my last blog post. After checking out, I spent a couple hours in the lobby finishing up. 

I needed to buy food for the week on the way out of town, then sat outside the store and ate a fair proportion of what I'd just bought. As a side note, I sat there for about an hour, and the only person that really stopped and talked to me happened to have been from the Midwest.

Finally, I made it out of town towards late afternoon, facing the largest hill I've had to deal with since the western states for sure, pushing my bike most of the way to the top.

Just after cresting the hill, I went for my headlight, having settled to the bottom of my pack, only to discover that the bracket had come loose. It was almost fully dark, and I had to find everything, and put it back together. Apparently I'd got the attention of a lady living locally, who came and asked, from a distance, not knowing much more about me than that I was stopped, and slightly uncertain, if I needed help. I said I was alright, but could use a place to camp for the night, and so was handed off to Sean, the "hired man", working for his stay on the premises. He gave directions, and went on ahead.

The old restaurant, apparently, and now shed and greenhouse where Sean lives.

Well, I don't know if you can tell from the picture, but when I arrived, Sean already inside, I wasn't exactly sure where the entrance was, or how to let him know I was there. So I had an awkward few moments, not sure quite what to do, 'till he came out looking for me. 

Now, this "home" of Sean's.. he had electricity, but no plumbing. In fact, water for drinking, watering the tomatoes, washing up, everything, was collected rainwater from the roof. (Water off a galvanized tin roof has a distinctive flavor to it, by the way). He had a bucket toilet around the corner. The building was heated by wood, he had a refrigerator and microwave, and an ancient commercial kitchen gas cook stove/oven. 

The guy slept on a recliner next to the stove, with the radio on all the time. He said since his TV broke, he's been reading a lot - 1000+ page novels, some political commentary.. he had a decent shelf of books. His bib overalls didn't appear to have been washed in some time, and he obviously had neither shaved nor had a hair cut in a few weeks at least. I'd have guessed Sean was 70 something, till he mentioned visiting and taking care of his 84 year old father..

"I bet you've met a lot of interesting people along the way."

I felt like saying, "Yeah, I think you go near the top of the list..". When mention was made about wondering if I was a safe person, I told him that as long as he expressed any concern for my safety, I knew I had nothing to worry about, he appreciated this statement of trust.

I was still hungry, so was grateful when he offered me some food. He'd have given me some fresh apple cider, but it had been started on its way of going hard..

It's beginning to feel quite natural for me to sleep outside rather than in some unfamiliar context, so I turned down the offer to sleep in the camper or inside the shed, and slept quite well. As I was packing to leave in the morning, he said he'd give me some money, but didn't have any himself, to which I assured him that he'd given me more then plenty, in food, shelter, and just being hospitable. 

A Civil War Memorial

Well, the next few days I had limited interaction with people. The Adirondack region of New York is the least heavily populated place I've been since the western states. 

I saw houses for as low as $50,000. Later I saw townhouses for $300,000. I guess which road you're on makes a huge difference.. 

Oh, yeah.. and lots of "No Trespassing" signs.  

Spent a bunch of time on gravel roads - not because it was the less busy route, but because it was the most direct route. 

I should say, I spent more time with less cell service in New York than in anywhere else on this trip.

This is a good section of the road. Some places the sandy gravel was almost too loose to keep my bike upright on..

At one point, Google tried getting me on a road that, for all I could tell, did not actually exist. Consequently, I found myself headed in the wrong direction (again on a dirt/gravel road). I passed a couple pickups, and within half a mile broke my chain. So, I pushed my bike back, and asked one of the guys for a ride to the nearest bike shop - 10 miles away. The next shops on either side would have been over an hour distant..

Fortunately, with only some 2200 miles on my chain and rear sprocket, only the chain needed replaced - saving me $25. After a few hour delay, I was ready to hit the road again - in the right direction this time.

Interestingly, first thing in the morning I find my lens has a tendency to fog up, till it gets acclimated. I took a dozen fuzzy pictures before I got this one. 

Another thing I should say.. I was expecting the "mountains" to be a little bit more of a challenge physically. I hardly gained 1500 feet from where I started to the highest point. I've had single hills over 1000 feet before..  

The next incident particularly worth mentioning was visiting Fort William Henry, from the 7 Years War. Alternately known as the French-Indian War, or by some, the First World War.

At any rate, the modern reconstruction of the old fort exists on the southern edge of Lake George in New York. On learning I could take a tour, by reenactors, hear a canon and a musket, see the bullet moulding process, etc., I thought I'd go for it.  

Fort William Henry, Lake George, New York - 1755-1757

Actually, when this canon was fired, the amount of powder used (2 ounces) was a fraction of what was used in a grenade, which was a fraction of what would actually be used to fire the canon. It was kind of loud, but not nearly as loud as it would really be..

If they weren't all out of budget, I thought about buying one of their non-firing replica guns "for protection".

The Minne-Ha-Ha, docked, and I think the Mohican coming in to port. 

After my tour, which happened to have 3 guides, I being the only one in tour, I loitered around a little, and ended up talking for an hour or so to the youngest of the three, who happened also to be 20 years old. Nate and I really have a lot in common. We're both 20 year olds without clear direction. We both like history, music, traveling.. We both admire those of times past, we both know what it's like to go to college without a clear direction, though he's stuck with it, and I haven't.. 

Modern replicas of the canon that were originally here.

The dungeon cells, in the basement of the fort.

Because I'd spent so much time at the fort, unscheduled, I wasn't sure if I was going to make my originally intended destination, being the William Miller Home. It was 4:00, and I still had 34 miles. At first I planned to only do 20 miles. However, after hitting that point, I wasn't tired yet, and couldn't find a camping spot, so I kept going. 

I find this entertaining: People carrying backpacks, people riding horses, and bicycles, take the trail to the left. Must be self propelled bicycles..

I made an error, in that I didn't let them know I was coming, much less coming late. I thought to call, but didn't get around to it. Consequently, on arriving, at 8:30, no one was expecting me. I saw lights on, and called, and let them know I was there, and asked if I could camp behind one of the buildings, and they said that would be alright. 

An original barn at the William Miller estate.

Actually, someone knew I'd be coming sooner or later, it just wasn't the guy who answered the phone. So I eventually settled in, and got to sleep, and slept in a while. From time to time I thought I'd hear something, and wake up, but not see anything, so go back to sleep. 

Finally, I was awake, and saw someone come in my direction, so we greeted each other. I was given a towel for a shower (much needed, on account of my feet mostly), and told to come in for breakfast. 

As it turned out, those living on site had felt bad about not inviting me in for the night - something they frequently do, and actually I'd been visited a couple times already that morning while I was sleeping - so they saw me long before I saw them.. 

Ascension Rock - where, apparently, a few dozen people at least gathered on the night of October 22, 1844, the night when nothing happened. 

Eventually I ate up, and got the grand tour of the place, including a few extra side trips and such. Before I left, I was invited to visit my tour guides in Maryland, and then again in Florida, if I make it to the keys.. 

The chapel William Miller built, after being told he was no longer welcome in his old church. 

Right about the Vermont/New York boarder, looking at the Green Mountains (from which the state gets its name) on the horizon.

Now I really should make mention of my present context. I rode the afternoon after the Miller Home to Rutland, VT, where I found an Adventist church that had a Friday night Bible study, which I showed up to, part way in, completely unannounced. 

After the study, one of the members was so kind as to do for me what I'd never do for myself, and buy me a couple nights in a hotel room, as well as give me a ride to church in the morning.

Thanks Mr. Adams..

A last shot, just for spite. :D

New York, Canada, New York

This last week has felt eternally long. Hmm.. I guess this isn't the first time I've said that. But I do have difficulty believing that just 10 days ago I was in Ohio still..

This last week I broke my longest week travel record by 1 mile, but traveled a bit further, as, in order to meet with contacts, I was assisted along about 70 miles further down the line, bringing my total to almost 600 assisted miles (or just over 10% of the total anticipated distance). At some point I'll have to slow down enough that being assisted along my way will become unnecessary, but in the last two weeks I have cut down the estimated time till Maine down by a full week..

I started out in Brocton, NY. Because I chose to take care of emails instead of giving myself a head start, I started on Monday with ~75 miles to cover that day. Fortunately, I didn't care to arrive before dark, so I had about 12 hours to get there. 

Before this week, my longest day was 63 miles. 

Buffalo, New York. Yet another site of Rust Belt decay..

Arriving in Buffalo, I managed to deal with the traffic without too much difficulty. However, finding the pedestrian access to the bridge across the Niagara River into Canada was a little more of a challenge. I finally asked a couple Customs and Boarder Patrol officers for directions. As it turns, I'd already passed the place, and now had to backtrack around the block. 

Apparently they were doing some sailboat racing. This was one of two groups in the channel.

"Where are you riding to, and from?"

"Oh, from Oregon, to Maine, to Florida."

"Oh, yeah.. that's nothing at all. I do that all the time."

*Pause

"That's a long ride.."

After the traditional though not overly repulsive hassling at the boarder, I was in. The first thing I saw once I hit the road again was a Smart car.

Darkness fell, and the temperatures with it. I managed to stay warm enough, however.

Niagara Falls, Ontario, Canada. A vastly more brilliant sight than the US side of the river..

Finally, at about 9:30, I made it to the falls. I've pretty much avoided tourist areas on this trip, not so much deliberately, as because they rarely fall along my intended path. Niagara Falls is a tourist attraction in the truest sense.. 

I noticed that people were almost more reluctant to make eye contact, or any contact for that matter, than in downtown Cleveland, or Toledo, or Rochester, or even Buffalo (several people stared at my bike, but no one said a word to me while I was at the falls). I guess it's because, first, tourists are more likely to be big city folk, second, being a tourist means by definition that you are on someone else's turf, so more cautious by nature. Third, tourist attractions are like magnets for strange travel people, and maybe I didn't seem all that abnormal after all..

Interestingly, Orthodox Jews seemed in the majority as far as tourists went.

The American falls

The source of light and color for the falls, something first attempted over 150 years ago..

After a couple hours, I ended up finding a closed road, which turned out to be a perfect place to camp for the night. 

The Canadian power houses seemed to resemble fortresses, or palaces perhaps, externally. 

In the morning, I thought I'd find, rather than make, something to eat before heading back to the US. I changed $20 USD into $18.05 CAD, then looked at my options for food. Then I learned that, for $15, I could visit the backside of Niagara via tunnel. As this wouldn't leave enough money to eat anything, much less a meal of the proportions necessary after a record setting ride the day before (and a light supper), I decided to use my debit card instead. Not realizing that as soon as I paid I was taken to the falls, I had left my camera on my bike, so only had my phone camera to document the trip.

I wasn't sure if it was worth the money. 

Due to erosion, tourists were not allowed to the edge, and seeing a wall of water from 15 feet isn't all that inspiring..

While I was down there, a group was debating what coin they saw, as it looked like a euro, but the metals were reversed. I jumped the fence, and recovered a $2 Mexican Peso, and picked up some Polish currency. So, it wasn't a thoroughly lost effort..

Well, I did get a side view of Niagara Falls.

After coming back up top, I got the best deal I could find - $13 for a pre-made veggie burger, fries, and a 12 ounce cup of soda. 

Finding my way out of Canada was as difficult as finding my way in. However, the boarder patrol officer was just a little less cordial. Not harsh or unkind, but lacking in warmth.. 

By the time I made it out of Canada, still starving, I had spent more money in a single day than I'd spent in the prior 5 weeks (each, not total). At least I got some decent images, and a few stories..

After cutting across a field, I made it to this road, which was actually on my map, and the recommended route. 

After reentering the US, I was put in contact with my Dad's cousin Mark, I've not met in so long I can't remember. He was quite enthusiastic about me visiting, that night. On arriving, I was greeted with a characteristically warm and generous Wood family welcome, slept in a bed someone gave up for me, and a big supper, and breakfast, and was sent off with a large lunch (which I managed to eat by the time I arrived at my next destination).

The former rail line went on top, the foot bridge was build underneath.

My next stop was the former Hiram Edson farm, where many of the Adventist doctrines were first unified. I called ahead, and let they caretaker, Roena, 83, know I was coming, not arriving until 9 pm. 

As it turned out, I arrived at a good time (of the year), as Roena will be leaving in a few weeks for the winter, and had lots of food to get rid of.

Hand planed timber, at the Edson barn.

The Erie Canal 

Lake Ontario - the third and last of the Great Lakes I will see on this trip.

For some reason I'm finding myself irresistible drawn to this part of the country. Maybe it's because of realizing I'll spend more time in this state than anywhere else, so it's growing on me. Maybe it's because people I know and like say it's a great place. Maybe it's because I keep seeing potential employment opportunities. Maybe it's the beauty of the area.. The culture doesn't seem that striking (positively or negatively), but maybe I'm picking up something I like, but haven't put my finger on it yet. Maybe it's just that it's Upstate New York, after all.. haha, I don't know. At any rate, if I were to move anywhere in the US right now, where I'd previously been drawn to the western plains, now I'm adding upstate NY to that list.

Apparently they were flushing the hydrant system. I was wondering if they were doing studies on urban hydroplaning. 

Well, now I can say I've been to Mexico.

Low lying northeastern fog. A strange sight for a westerner..

Friday night I slept behind the small Pulaski, NY Adventist church. How small? Well, no one else was there till 9:25. At the end of the service, there may have been 18 people present, including myself. The guest book was only 2/3 used, and yet had been in place since I was 5 years old.

There was no potluck, but I had a contact, who drove down and picked me up. However, I found myself alone at the church for about 45 minutes. Not having anything better to do, I decided to sing, for the fun of it. Not having done a lot of singing lately, I had to keep shifting down the scale to keep from straining my voice. It was great being able to belt out at full volume. I've always liked singing, but I've always been afraid to let anyone hear me, at full capacity. It seems somehow self assertive.. Nonetheless, I've found nothing more euphoric than singing (by myself in this case), powerfully and energetically..

My first picture proving I've seen Amish activity. I actually saw three wagons on Sabbath - or maybe it was one twice..

Bill Meyers is a good friend of a person I've actually never met in person, but have become friends with through Facebook. Old enough to be my grandfather, his mission in life is being a missionary to US military personnel - having spent years in the Air Force himself. He's lived an exciting life, visiting every state, 13 countries, living 6 years in the Caribbean, traveling extensively.. Not being able to put me up in his house, and wanting me to have a good night's sleep, he set me up with a hotel room for the night.

Well, I think that's all I have to say for now..

Till next time..

Fellow Young Adventurers, etc.

This last week has been rather full, to the extent that it's hard to believe that only one week ago I was in Toledo writing my last entry, and that the week before that I was in Battle Creek. It feels like a month ago...

I left Toledo Sunday afternoon, with only 28 miles to the house I was going to stay at - a WarmShowers contact, of course. Heading out of town, the securing system for my rear panniers proved ineffective, and I ended up using almost all my zip ties to secure my load so I could just make it where I was going. By the way, riding a bike through a city that has 1/3 the population it did 50 years ago, on a Sunday afternoon, results in very little traffic to contend with.

Eventually I made it to the house of Gordon Hille, a teacher, who is preparing for a bike trip across Europe next year, and maybe more. We talked a little bit on topics such as theology, sociology, and psychology, 'till his daughter and her boy friend arrived.

Adam and Madelyn, 24, just completed a canoe trip of the Mississippi about a month ago. Something like 2500 miles, in 70 days. I'd actually thought of doing something like this myself, so it was interesting talking to someone who had. Comparing our trips was also fascinating. We both started out with no prior experience, and very little training. I think ultimately, however, the river is a greatly larger challenge, as in a way it's fighting with a living organism, where riding is simply pushing against a still and lifeless road.. After many glasses of wine, cigarettes, and bagels, (I consuming only the last), we finally headed to bed around 5. I think that's the longest conversation I've ever had..

Heading east on Monday, I learned that the "North Coast Inland Trail" is sometimes a bike route, and sometimes more of a horse trail. Not that I saw any horses, but the fine gravel was definitely less suited for bicycle travel.. I did see more hoof prints than bike tracks for a while, though. 

I thought it time to take an updated picture of my bike, as it looks on the typical riding day. I keep my rain covers out and on the ready, and now keep my sweat shirt up front (instead of behind, as in the beginning).

That night I slept behind a church, which I'd arrived at after dark, due to my late start. Unexpectedly, there was something going on both when I got there, and when I left. However, I found a shed out back, behind which I could sleep completely undisturbed, and undetected. 

My next stop was in Cleveland. I'd originally planned to head a little south of town, but after sending out half a dozen requests, finally decided "Hey, people live in Cleveland. Certainly I could survive riding through.. hundreds of people do every year.." So, I made contact with a bike shop owner in downtown Cleveland, who I ended up staying with. While at the shop, I got a little maintenance taken care of. Alex, a cross country cyclist himself (self supported), had the bearing of a dignified and intelligent craftsman.. unfortunately, I had a much superior description, but in the ensuing week, it was forgotten. 

Alex giving my bike some TLC.

Cleveland is the largest city I've been in, as it took me probably 50 miles from the time I entered the suburban area, till I was back into the country. In this time I went from richer, almost exclusively white towns, to poorer almost exclusively black towns. As always, I didn't feel threatened by anyone. At Taco Bell, the manager and another employee (though honestly I don't know who was who.. maybe they were both managers? or transitioning?) saw my bike, and found it hard to believe.. 

Downtown Cleveland.

Before this week I'd only heard the "dialect" known as "Ebonics" in movies and such, so finding myself surrounded by those who spoke only in this version of my mother tongue was certainly a new experience.. At AutoZone, where I stopped for bungee straps and zip-ties, I had to ask the lady at the checkout to repeat herself, and still only understood half of what she said.. I always thought I was good at deciphering accents.. I guess I got enough, though, as my money was accepted, and I left with what I came to purchase. And the amounts seemed right..

I think this church was in East Cleveland, but I could be wrong. 

By now I was behind schedule. I'd made contact with a guy out of town, but he said he had things going on and wasn't available. Later, though, he called, saying he knew the difference between sleeping in a bed and sleeping on the ground, so I could stay there the night, he'd just be busy. Then, after telling him where I was, he offered to pick me up in the box truck he was bringing home (with a Ferrari kit car body someone gave him), since there was no way I was going to make it on my own. 

This town is over 200 years old. Not ancient, but nearly so, by western standards...

Tim is a motorcycle traveler primarily, though does ride his bike frequently, but once quit his job and left his house and hitchhiked around the us for 6 months.

Reminding me of another Stateline Road, thousands of miles away...

A bean field, of some sort.

A gravel road Google Maps put me onto. I probably had between 15 and 20 miles of gravel to deal with.. Fortunately it was mostly packed well, so I was able to make good time. I almost tipped over on loose gravel once, however..

My next stop was Erie. I made contact with a young lady, who this summer rode across the US solo, with perhaps less training and preparation than myself, but she said she wasn't able to host anyone at present. However, she knew of a church I might be able to camp at. Mentioning that I was 20 changed things, however, and soon I was told I could stay there, arriving a couple hours before first anticipating. 

That should do it..

In Ohio I'd pretty much run out of things to take pictures of. Everything looked the same as it had for the last several weeks. However, scenery began to shift as I entered Pennsylvania, and then New York. 

A fresh fruit/vegetable stand outside of North East, PE where I was given grapes, plumbs, an apple, a peach, and a couple nectarines.

One thing I noticed, just inside New York - while the architecture is old, and beautiful, while the landscape is attractive, there seemed to be more obvious signs of poverty here than in most of small town America I've been through. Things like tattoos and piercings, more hollow faces and sad eyes, the way people were dressed.. Not just that I saw poor people here and there, but that the Amish were about the most dignified people in town! Even the fact that "No Alcohol to Minors" signs were much more visible than other places I've been could be seen as an indicator. It seemed so.. incongruent. I guess it's because of the grape/grape juice industry in the area, bringing in lots of low skilled workers, and also because of near proximity to the economically depressed lakes region. 

I was told that barns were built octagonally in order to keep the devils out of the corners. 

Lake Erie

This happens to be part of the Concord grape belt. Vineyards from 40-100 acres all over the place. Apparently harvest is 2 weeks out. 

Some old church, with quite a steeple system. Too bad I couldn't have gotten the whole building in the shot..

A war memorial in the middle of a Cemetery - Portland, NY. 

They say this used to be a fine dining establishment, called "The Castle". Nowadays some call it the "rock pile"..

I'd made contact ahead with Mr. and Mrs. Wahl, who gave me a place to stay over the weekend in Brocton, New York. This house has apparently been in the family for a couple generations at least. The Wahl's have grandchildren my age.

At dinner on Friday, the conversation turned to comparisons of culture - Mr. Wahl talked about how amazed he was, on a visit to South Dakota, by how well everyone knew their neighbors, even 25 miles away, and how friendly they were to him, a complete stranger. He said that other than the neighbors he has working relationships with, he hardly knows more than their names.. 

Yeah, I guess I'm in a different culture alright..

Out my window

I made a huge tactical error today.. I failed to "strike while the iron was hot" and write while my ideas were fresh, and so my train of thought got derailed. So, the last part of this entry is running towards the stale side, and there's so much I've left out. Or, at least, I'm sure there is, because I have a couple days barely covered, only I don't even know what to say about them.

I'm tired. I've got a long day ahead of me tomorrow..

Fall is coming..

This week has been quite remarkable as far as how many interesting people I've been able to meet. I only ended up having to camp once. Meanwhile, I also set a distance record, at 258 miles, plus another 20 I didn't ride. As I'm headed towards upstate New York, it looks like both the amount of people, and the distances I'll be able to make, will begin to drop..