Gig Harbor Washington to Bar Harbor Maine 2001

This rates up there with the best day of riding ever. We were so careful about selecting our sites last night. There were no street lights anywhere to be seen, until dark. The marina across the street had a cluster of the brightest floodlights I've ever seen. One pointed directly at us. Between the light and traffic noise, we didn't get a lot of sleep. We still got up about 6, opened up the marina bathroom, and were on the road pretty early.

I was really excited about riding the Erie Canal trail. I put my fat, flat attracting, tire back on. Mike's bike and tires really weren't suited to the trail so he only rode a mile of it before taking to the highway. The surface was finely ground gravel, packed hard, most of the way. There was also some pavement, some big gravel, and some dirt ruts that looked like a team of donkeys could come by any time pulling a barge up the canal.

My personal path

I had the trail nearly to myself all morning. The sun was completely obscured by clouds making it nice and cool. Riding on gravel, instead of asphalt, next to the canal and trees also kept it cool. There was a nice tailwind most of the time. Quiet. Cool. No traffic. Pretty close to heaven.

Now and then marmot-like water rodents would scurry along the path. Once a huge red-tailed hawk rose out of the water with something in its talons. It flew into a tree on the other side of the path and I could see that it was a huge snake, dangling and squirming. I was watching the canal a short time later and surprised a snake on the path. We both frantically avoided each other and I kept my eyes on the road for a while.

The canal seems like a well disciplined river. As I was riding along, the wall of trees on the left began to fall away and a roar arose like the canal had sprung a leak. When I got close enough, I realized that an unruly, real, river had been rerouted UNDER the canal where it smashed against a rock wall and takes a spectacular fall back into its proper bed. Soon after, a road went under the canal. I remember studying the Erie Canal in grade school but I don't remember anything about rivers and roads running under it.

I passed a couple of cyclists several times, a retired naval officer and a retired teacher. They kept whizzing by me then stopping while I caught up. They were very interested in our trip and I gladly took a break to tell them about it. They turned around at Albion and recommended that I stop for breakfast. I stupidly went on for a couple more towns. It was straight up noon when I sat down at the last table at a diner in Brockport. The hostess brought me an iced tea and promised a waitress. Ten minutes later I gave up and left a canadian $2 coin. Outside it was raining. Should I have spent two hours eating a huge meal (I'd picked the 3 pancakes, 3 eggs, sausage and home fries) and writing this up, or should I have ridden in the rain and eaten my last bagel and peanut butter? Guess we'll never know. The rain ended while I ate under an overpass, but I sure wanted that breakfast.

First floor

There are all these huge gates hanging over the canal and they kept me wondering about locks. I finally got to see a couple in action. It's so simple it should be obvious - just a big hydraulic elevator - but sometimes I just have to see it to understand it.

The path started swinging all over the place as I approached Rochester. I went over train yards, through deep woods, then around a interchange of canals with an interchange of bike paths. I'm not sure how I stayed on the right one, but I did. The path got fairly congested through Rochester. There was a mini recumbent convention on a bridge - a Ryan and a TourEasy - and they were excited to see me.

Which way?

A few miles later in the tourist trap of Pittsford, there were so many ice cream eating pedestrians I had to take the adjoining road. I finally pulled into Fairport, our destination at about 4. I asked about the motel (I called for a reservation earlier. Too many nights of no rooms.) and was told that it was on Highway 31, the route Mike took, a couple of miles up a couple of steep hills. They were a shock to they system after a full day of complete flat. Mike had been waiting for about an hour, like I expected. Too bad I've got the credit card.

We dove into the shower and stumbled next door to the bar and grill. They have my favorite NA, Molson Excel. I never get Molson! We decided to drink and eat appetizers, potato skins with chili and cheese and cajun chicken quesadillas. Mike's waiting for me to finish this so we can go back for dinner - and more beer.