The overnight rains that were predicted came showering through the trees about 8pm. With sunset at about 7:30, I had ample time to get the campsite set properly. I am in site 23 at Wildwood National Forest campground. It is primitive site, but does have cold, fresh water. I choose this site because of the layout of trees and picnic table. My tent has become less sea-worthy over the past two months and its double decade old age is starting to show. The taped seams and other water-proofing issues needs some attention I cannot give it at the moment. These have been discovered the hard way in the past weeks. So I have a plan to use my emergency tarp to cover the exposed areas, extending out to cover my bike and create a bit of a canopy over the tent entrance. It actually looks hideous, but works well. The rains come blowing through, but I am perfectly dry with my impromptu breeze ways creating a fine shelter. The rains drain the sky for a couple of hours and the tarp has a tin roof effect with the rain and I am soon forced to check my eyelids for holes.
The morning breaks to the enjoyment of some instant coffee with maple and brown sugar oatmeal. I feel a bit melancholy that this is my last day of camping for the trip. I am at hotels and Inns for the remainder. I have truly enjoyed the camping experiences and just sit and enjoy the cool quiet morning in the forest, reflecting on the various places I have stayed. As I stuff my wet and gritty tent and tarp into their compression sacks, put on my damp cycling clothes again and have some schmeg from the tree fall into my coffee, the feeling quickly evaporates, like the morning fog. Time to move on.
My tent and its owner is not the only thing that appears to be wearing out on this trip. My well-documented shoe repairs, along with my main cycling socks are disintegrating. My cycling gloves that I bought on this trip are worn and have tears in them. The handlebar tape is seeing its last days. Yesterday, my back pannier needed "field" repairs to keep on the bike. The cyclometer has not worked for weeks and the heart monitor is intermittently active. Both battery issues, I presume. This will be the third battery on the cyclometer, but I am not going to change it out. All in all, not bad really, but normal wear and tear is showing its ugly head.
Kancamangus pass was the highest climb of the last week and on the elevation profile, looked daunting. Yes, it was the highest and longest climb of the week, but comparatively turned out to be the easiest. The grade was gradual and steady for the 12 miles of climbing. The weather was perfect, overcast and cool, giving the sensation that this pass could be climbed all day. Where the earlier climbs had 10 and 12 percent grades, this climb and descent was about 7% at the worst and made both up and down hill exhilarating. I hardly had to tap my breaks on the way down except for the roughest spots on the road. On the earlier mountain descents I was burning some break pads. The views and the Pemigewasset River cascading over the abundance of rocks and stones made this a top 3 ride of the trip. I have discovered of all the landscape features that have been encountered, I have enjoyed the creeks, rivers and falls the most. This ride will not top the 94 mile climb in Idaho, but it will compete for a podium finish for sure. Loved this ride today.
Early in the day, I crossed the Appalachian trail and met some hikers by the road. They were trying to hitch hike into Lincoln for supplies. Three of the hikers were mid twenties, but one was about age with full dreadlocks that just did not quite fit. He had recently hooked up with this team, but had actually started his hike in Key West. They eventually catch a lift and pass me. I run into them again in Lincoln where they holler out and I whip in a parking lot to chat a second. The 50 year old is massaging his gnarled feet while holding court on some hiking philosophy. At that very moment I decide that bike touring across the country beats hiking the Appalachian Trail.
As I leave Lincoln there is an adventure store that's
advertising Moose tours, 97% sightings. I remain hopeful.
I have seen some gorgeous sights on this trip, but tomorrow will be the best sight I have seen. My wife, Brenda, meets me for the final two days and when I stop pedaling tomorrow she will be there. I cannot express how excited I am. No, she will not be cycling with me. She will spend the day sightseeing while I am doing the same from the comfort of my bike saddle. Can't wait.
Moose Search: 0
Song in my head: Etta James; At Last
There are three big climbs today and the first starts just as I pass Sharon, VT, then Thetford Hill, and finally the last climb was in the White mountains just past North Haverhill, NH. I don't have the stats on them, as I have no service while I am typing this and cannot pull up Strava. They are all a workout for sure. I take them incredibly slow and just find a gear and grind. True to my previous Intel, they are not as steep as the first climb. I actually enjoy these climbs, the challenge, the views and the easier descents. I am definitely tired tonight, but it was a good ride. 
I creaked my way downstairs on wooden floors that have been treaded upon for over 200 years. Molly, the host brings breakfast of warm banana bread and an English breakfast of potatoes and poached eggs. A spot of coffee and orange juice rounded out the morning meal and I feel a bit spoiled, frankly. Certainly beats the camp breakfast options of the earlier weeks. 
I finish my snack and return to the saddle in great spirits and hope that my new found Intel proves accurate. Indeed the ride turns easier and a much more manageable ascent. I feel good as I pedal on, which frankly could have as much to do with the Bit O Honey chew I also had at the break. I love those little guys. There is one more hard turn of the wheel during the final scale of Broadloaf that have the legs screaming again, but it was not quite as bad as before. Close, but not quite. As I discover on a road sign, some of the grade was 12%. 
I enjoyed great rest days with my brother and nephew in North Creek, NY. We relaxed on a train ride down and back the Hudson River, played some spirited games of Frisbee Golf (Chase, my nephew is really a good driver, I stink out loud), and a steep hike up Crane Mountain with incredible payoff views at the peak. The hike included climbs up rocky faces and trail-built wooden ladders to scale two granite facings. The vista at the top of the Adirondacks and multiple mountain lakes were stunning. One of our best day hikes in our history of trekking. 
After coffee and oatmeal, I wait for the heavy morning fog to lift. It is humid and there is no wind, so it has set in for quite a while. After it somewhat of an impatient wait, it appeared to lighten enough, so I decide to pedal forth. It takes me the next two hours to cover just 15 miles. The fog had not lifted and is in fact thicker and heavier in patches along the way. There is no shoulder on this road and although I have my flashing taillight and my yellow cycling vest on, I am afraid they do little to penetrate the density. In fact, I hear some cars before I can finally see their headlights dimly emerge at what is essentially the last second. I pedal slowly and every time I hear or think I hear a car I get off the road as far as I can. I am a bit unnerved by my mistake to leave and often hear cars that never transform. Where the gravel edge of the road it rideable, I stay off the road as much as I can. This has been a very bad choice. The moisture is so heavy that my helmet is literally dripping wet and my arms and legs look like spiderwebs in the early morning dew. Finally, the sun starts to break through the abyss and melt the fog. About this time I come upon a small town where I plan to find a place to eat something and wait until it is crystal clear. There is a small market up the road, so I get a bottle of milk and a snack and wait it out. 
Finally the sun breaks through completely and it is time to get rolling. The hills today ensure that I do, in fact, roll up and down the Adirondacks. It went from a mistake of a start to a truly glorious ride. I spend most of my day on Moose River Road. Yes, Moose River...so my hopes have risen again for Moose sighting. I was warned that this road was hilly and windy by some folks at lunch yesterday, but their alternate suggestion of "just up the road you can take Woodgate road and it is straighter" added about 10 miles to the route. That is another lesson of the road, be careful who you ask. Most people give directions with driving in mind. "Just up the road" can be miles. Ask follow up questions such as "would you walk it"?...."it is uphill?" Etc. As it turns out I loved riding this road. It was narrow, unlined, and winding, but beautiful with light traffic. Rustic cabins and homes set in the Adirondacks. You might think that road such as this would cause safety concerns. These do not bother me as people traveling here are paying attention to the road, usually with a higher level of intensity. Even those that speed around like they are on a slalom course, are intent on the road and pass me with a wide berth. 
Pulaski is a town along the route and it has that All-American Main Street feel, with a well-adorned Central Park. In another 10 miles stop in the small town of Orwell at the Village Restaurant. Literally, the only place to eat. As I select a seat, as often happens, I am a bit of a novelty in the smaller communities. Teresa, the owner, is welcoming everyone that enters by their first name and makes me feel welcome as well. As I am asked about my trip, I am asked where I reside. As it turn out, Teresa was born and raised in the Combee area of Lakeland. Small world indeed. 
By the time we stop for lunch, we don't want to venture far from the route to save the miles, so we eat at a small, sparse marina diner near Sodus Point for lunch. As is typical, people often strike up conversations about the journey. Two of men who are fishing a weeklong tournament hold our conversation as we devour our sandwiches. As it turns out, they have been fishing this tournament for 18 years and the previous day was the first time they had large fish of the day. A 28lb King Salmon that earned them $500 for the day. 
Short day of riding and it was made better by another good weather day. It was forecasted to rain in the afternoon, but short of some light sprinkles, it never materialized. 
There is a trail that takes us to Niagara Falls, but much of it is a very rough ride and we turn back to the main road for the last 13 miles to the falls. Ultimately we start seeing a heavy mist in the distance and we realize we are close. Certainly we take several photos of the rapids leading to the falls and then as we make the turn, the magnitude of the falls is revealed. Heavy mist blocks some of the views, as is standard, but multiple angles reveal some nice photos ops. Brian takes the best pictures, as we compare later. 
Brian elects to rest for the night, but I angle my way back to falls to see them illuminated at night. Sunday nights they also have fireworks over the falls to top off a great day of seeing sights. 
We weave our way out of Erie to Alt 5 which is also bike route 17. The mostly gentle rolling hills increase the entertainment of the ride. The variable shifting, slow easy climbs and then the downhill payoffs are fun and a great diversion to the mass of miles that we must roll over today. More than that the rolling hills increase the texture and views of the landscape. The smoky grey hillside silhouettes in the distance to our right or the wide expanses of Lake Erie to our left are the borders that surround the acres of vineyards we pedal past. Many of these vineyards are coop supplies to nearby Welch's plant and processing. They combine to create a beautiful backdrop for a ride. 
Tandem riding is paying off for both of us as we share time pulling so the other person can draft behind. The drafting reduced the workloads or effort by 20% or so. Brian is 6ft 3in tall and has always broken the wind effectively when I draft. I am 5 inches shorter and a relative light weight, so I create quite as wide of a crease in the wind. However, he comments that with my luggage racks I am finally pulling my weight, in more than one way. Brian is riding a road bike and panniers do not attach to the speed machine. So he has a seat post trunks and other bags on the bike. His main hauling device is a backpack, which adds to his challenge. For me, however, it adds to the wind break and when I am in second position, I can hear the angels sing. It is glorious. 
At this point our plans begin to go awry. A bridge is out and there is a detour that adds time to our ride. As we are looking at maps to see what we can do, a helpful motorist stops and explains that is it well signed and the turn off is about 1/2 mile up the road. It is amazing how often we mis-judge distance when our transport is a car. As it turns out it is 1 1/2 to 2 miles up the road, adding 3 to 4 miles to the route. Nevertheless it is all part of a days work. 
The views from the road are more variety of houses, cottages and rentals, with views of Lake Erie. We pedal over what feels like cobbled road to lunch where we grab a sandwich and some rest. Just a few miles down the road after lunch we enter Pennsylvania where the road is gloriously smooth. It is fresh wide pavement and we are happy to be on it. As a matter of fact, when the section of new road ends, the old road they were tearing up was better than the roads we were on in Ohio. 
