tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15192436147741815412024-02-18T21:01:51.998-08:00Boyd's Bicycle America - Alliance for IndependenceCycling 3800 miles from Astoria, OR to Bar Harbor ME. Raising Awareness and Money to support Alliance for Independence. Boydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129584376762381650noreply@blogger.comBlogger65125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519243614774181541.post-42585919238028523782015-09-18T09:40:00.000-07:002018-02-07T06:14:11.774-08:00Final Stats At over $13,000 (and closing on $14,000), we have exceeded our stated goal by over 30%. Thank you all for your incredible generosity and support of AFI. There are many lives that you are impacting. Thank you so very much. <br />
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Some Final Cycling Stats<br />
<ul>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOklcRVWeNlZ9EPcmw-5MDJA2WNziybpsde2ououBvhcaaSPGJGjiCT7rhpoBF8JQVrq7bUXJ0F0NzvHGum9nFpSZWfyPTPWE5d0TIitFoz-N5YkLq4w2XyePv9_rRrxAhr3gkHrszMK4/s1600/IMG_9579.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOklcRVWeNlZ9EPcmw-5MDJA2WNziybpsde2ououBvhcaaSPGJGjiCT7rhpoBF8JQVrq7bUXJ0F0NzvHGum9nFpSZWfyPTPWE5d0TIitFoz-N5YkLq4w2XyePv9_rRrxAhr3gkHrszMK4/s320/IMG_9579.JPG" width="320" /></a>
<li>119,600+ feet climbed</li>
<li>3,989 miles (with the "off Strava" cycling miles that were added at the end of the days, with your permission, I am calling it 4,000 miles)</li>
<li>318 hours of cycling</li>
<li>73+ miles per day average</li>
<li>60 sunrises</li>
<li>54 cycling days</li>
<li>14 states</li>
<li>9 dog chases</li>
<li>6 flat tires</li>
<li>4 ferry rides</li>
<li>2 countries</li>
<li>1 hawk attack</li>
<li>0 gallons of gas</li>
</ul>
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Not one moose, but one incredible adventure. Thank you for all your support</div>
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<br />Boydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129584376762381650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519243614774181541.post-38946353683258542072015-09-14T16:15:00.001-07:002018-02-07T06:22:28.057-08:00Day 57. Bar Harbor, ME<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;">In the 2004 Stanley Cup Final, the Tampa Bay Lightning </span></span><span style="font-family: uictfonttextstylebody; font-size: 17px;">had a grueling and stunning game 6 victory in Calgary to force the winner-take-all final Game 7 at </span><a href="x-apple-data-detectors://0" style="font-family: uictfonttextstylebody; font-size: 17px;" x-apple-data-detectors-result="0" x-apple-data-detectors-type="address" x-apple-data-detectors="true">the St Pete Times Forum</a><span style="font-family: uictfonttextstylebody; font-size: 17px;">. In that game, the Lightning open the 3rd period with a two goal lead, both off the stick of Ruslan Fedetenko, and are just 20 minutes away from raising the Stanley Cup for the first time in franchise history. They just need to finish. </span><a href="x-apple-data-detectors://1" style="font-family: uictfonttextstylebody; font-size: 17px;" x-apple-data-detectors-result="1" x-apple-data-detectors-type="calendar-event" x-apple-data-detectors="true">At 9:21</a><span style="font-family: uictfonttextstylebody; font-size: 17px;"> of the third, Craig Conroy scores a power play goal to pull the Flames within one. From our perspective in sections 316 row G, the next 10 minutes took an achingly and excruciatingly long 2 hours. Time stood still. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;">There is no comparison to the grueling intensity of the playoffs and riding a bicycle everyday. The boys on the ice win that one. But I can tell you that the last day of a relatively short 62 miles to finish the trip took a similarly achingly long time. The day starts with a sourdough Belgian waffle and great conversation with our Inn host. Our primary topic turns to our only children... adventurous and independent girls. Theirs is a 33 year-old hot spot firefighter in California and ours a 23 year-old Rhino keeper recently from South Africa. However, it does not take long for me to get antsy to get on the road. It is the final day. Soon the bike is packed and off to Bar Harbor.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;">Headwinds and rain in the morning are my escorts along route 3. It feels like I have covered about 40 miles when a honk forces me to glance to my left at a blue Subaru to spot 80 year old mom and dad passing me on the road. I just top the climb and I see them parked on the left and unadvisedly crossing the busy highway to greet me. I would shout to stop them, but I am out of breath and more specifically very happy to see them. Our greeting is fantastic, but short-lived as there is pedaling to be done. At that point I note that the progress has only been about 26 miles. Tick. Tock. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;">The rain ceases about noon to allow me to drop the rain gear. The ham sandwich from a general store is quickly eaten to keep the day moving. Still 30 miles to go. Tick. Tock. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;">I must admit that I note very little of the scenery today, with the exception of the wild blueberry fields passed along route 176. They lie low across the landscape in stark contrast to the rocks and forest. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;">Ellsworth is just 23 miles from Bar Harbor and it is downhill to Trenton and then back up hill just after Mount Desert. Now one more climb and 8 more miles.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;">With minutes left, Nikolai Khabibulin, the Lightning goalie, deflects a shot across ice into the path of an on-rushing Flame who sees an open net and the puck on his stick. Khabibulin is flying across the crease as the shot goes off and is later quoted as thinking "please hit me, please hit me...". </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;">The climb is slow, but the speedy downhill past Cadillac Mountain puts me 1/2 mile out at last check. I say to my intimate friend and trusty steed that has carried me almost 4000 miles. "Just get me home...."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;">To quote Khabibulin, "..and it did."</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoA0Xrx4O5S7M_BW4YYz_CAfulWdo9QCWtkvLSHTImHpMhreoTdIom4hKhcLuYssJkTSW1i5pGCQtqnLNHNJT3MaazQJ3Q18fA2EUP70O5oYBQKNY69shkUlYddjCB2XkFJQ2Po5mgn54/s1600/IMG_0549-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoA0Xrx4O5S7M_BW4YYz_CAfulWdo9QCWtkvLSHTImHpMhreoTdIom4hKhcLuYssJkTSW1i5pGCQtqnLNHNJT3MaazQJ3Q18fA2EUP70O5oYBQKNY69shkUlYddjCB2XkFJQ2Po5mgn54/s320/IMG_0549-1.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;">I arrive on the tip of Bar Harbor to whistles, cheers and photos from my parents, brother Blake and my wife Brenda. There is a banner that had been signed by family and friends at AFI. Typically preferring to be more under the radar, I admittedly relish the moment. After I FaceTime with my daughter to share the joy, we actually hangout for a minute and talk with a small crowd who has gathered to investigate and several of whom have given donations. Two of them have adult children facing special challenges and share in the energy. It is the perfect ending. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;">W</span><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;">e have raised over $12k dollars and it is not over yet. There is a bit more to come in and I will be entering the road donations over the next few days. Thanks to all for your support and generosity. Wish you could have ridden along, it was awesome. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;">I am going to blog for a couple more days with stats and other tidbits I want to memorialize. So those of you that are reading these will know to look for them. For now, I am going to celebrate by resting. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;">Moose Search: Clean sheet. Zip</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;">Song in my head. Kool and The Gang; Celebration. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "uictfonttextstylebody"; font-size: 17px;"></span>Boydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129584376762381650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519243614774181541.post-4880877865403689592015-09-13T09:13:00.001-07:002015-09-13T09:13:34.730-07:00Day 56. Bath, ME to Belfast, ME<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The actual date has often been evasive to me, much less the day of the week. For the past two months it has been "where today is", not "what today is." However, it seems easier to sense the weekend. Today was no exception. There is a different vibe in the air, more people out enjoying activities and events, less rush in the air.</span><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">It was a good thing people near Bath, Maine were not in a rush this morning as I was greeted by intervals of a parade of old Model A and Model T cars, (or similar), going counter to my route. There were old topless jalopies (probably not the right term, but it is what came to mind for me) with men and women in driving gloves and hats of the period riding some of the back roads of Maine. They looked to be on a specific road race type route, as often there was a co-pilot reading from sheets that seem to be maps or directions. These cars were pristine and smooth running machines. Cool to see.</span><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The antique automobile drivers had a great day for driving. The rains left yesterday and today was an absolutely gorgeous cool day. The fauna seemed to enjoy it as the daily sighting of deer and turkey were prolific. Literally spotted over two dozen turkey today. Most right along the side of the road. It struck me that with all the roadkill that I have had the unfortunate need to avoid including; deer, skunk, porcupine, ground hog, snakes, hawks, larks, swallows, chipmunks and myriads of others........not one turkey. Perhaps they are smarter than given credit.</span><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The deer are enjoying the day, especially two that prance and leap high above the tall field grass like a synchronized circus act. Impressive to watch.</span><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">This part of the country is absolutely spectacular. Mr. Wyman, I can certainly understand why you live up here....in the summer. Still working on why you live here in the winter. It has incredible bay views, mountain and lake vistas, all laid out among rolling hills and forest. Add in the architecture of the Inns and Farmhouses and you understand why US 1 is so busy with traffic and people trying to enjoy the area.</span><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">My route keeps me off US 1, for the most part, but I do combine it with back roads and byways. The highways are typically wide-shouldered, but that benefit is off-set by the traffic and the road trash that takes concentration to avoid. I do a poor job of the latter as I pick up a rusty sharp metal shard that cuts my front tire. After little road-side mechanic work that was supervised by two young fellas who stopped to offer help, I was off to meet Brenda for lunch.</span><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">In Rockport, we lucked upon a great little farm market and deli that set high on a cliff overlooking a harbor full of sailboats swaying amongst the silver glitter of the rippled water. The wind coming off the bay was refreshing and crisp, on the verge of cold as Brenda ate a zucchini hot dog (yes, zucchini hot dog) and I devoured my egg salad sandwich. We could not resist the molasses cookie on our way out and before we parted ways again.</span><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">A couple of hours and a total of 4300 feet of climbing later, the pedaling was done for the day as I reached the town of Belfast. We are staying tonight at a turreted bed and breakfast with antiques and collectibles around every nook and cranny. We enjoy sitting on the veranda as if in a time past, just resting and talking at tea-time. A pleasant evening, indeed. It is certainly a far cry from camping in some sketchy city parks of the earlier weeks.</span><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Sunday is a big day. It is the first weekend of the NFL season and the 'Fins enter the year with hopes of being above mediocre. They kick off the season in a battle with Washington. Tottenham also takes on Sunderland in the EPL, hoping to stay above the relegation zone and put Chelsea in that place. I will probably skip both of those contest as I have a project that needs to be finished. I can smell the salt water from here. ("Mainely" because Belfast sits on the Belfast Bay, but you know what I mean.....).</span><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Bar Harbor or Bust.</span><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Moose Search: Nil</span><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Song in my head: Norah Jones; Creepin' In. </span>Boydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129584376762381650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519243614774181541.post-8130838626608640442015-09-12T10:17:00.000-07:002018-02-08T10:34:44.838-08:00Day 55. Lovell, ME to Bath, ME<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Sandi and Pete were the host at the Old Saco Inn where I spent last evening. They are from Cape Town, South Africa and we commiserated over their homeland for a bit. My daughter lived in Limpopo, South Africa over the past three years working at a Rhino Orphanage, so I skated on her coat tails in that conversation. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Shortly after arrival, Sandi offers to do my laundry. She chuckles, explaining that they don't offer personal laundry services for guest in cars, only those on bicycles. Although I am appreciative of the offer, I also don't want to be an inconvenience and am about to "hem and haw" a polite decline when she says "No, I insist". Much in the same manner someone urges you to take the breath mint they just offered. On cue, I accept her generosity, excited about starting the day in fresh gear. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Often rewards first come with challenges. Today's reward is that I am reunited with my wife Brenda by day's end. The events of the day do not make it easy. Brenda has her wallet lost or stolen, so has no drivers license beyond the normal concern over lost credit cards, etc. Needless to say she is upset. She was wise enough to have taken her passport, a credit card and a spot of cash separately in her purse, so she can still navigate the air transportation world. Navigating the ground transportation world is another problem. She can fly anywhere she wants in this land, but can't get a rental car. Seems odd. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">We initiate plan B, which we just made up. I am now going to cycle into destination, then rent a car and drive up to the airport and get her. Ironically, this works out perfectly. First, because I am renting the car, the free National rental days I have acquired over the years can be used. Now the rental cost me $14 bucks, total. Second, we get to take some scenic back roads back to Bath, ME and I get to show her what some of my routes typically look like. What is more, is that Brenda gets to know all 8 employees at the Bangor Airport while waiting on me for three hours. Good times. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Oh, the other obstacles to the day. Rain, wind, closed roads, detours on steep gravel alternate roads. None of it mattered. The reunion was so much fun catching up and having dinner together. Joyous. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Next to last leg finishes in Belfast, ME today. I get to have lunch with Brenda along the way, so this should be fun. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Moose sightings: 0</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Song in my head. Cat Stevens; Wild World.</span>Boydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129584376762381650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519243614774181541.post-34360965295920120872015-09-11T09:47:00.000-07:002018-02-08T10:51:49.049-08:00Day 54. North Haverhill, VT to Lovell, ME<blockquote style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;" type="cite">
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. <br />
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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. </blockquote>
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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. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKLFNXwVtbft8Ckbph6W96co3K1xORZPl02-zJvrhyZv1HlEJ9EmgPCDSBtqkNs4MydlEschAuYgSxPsS6_fVOw6AOvk5DIKD4fxuI8JSvFzB7Z6JjoUN2GbFO-1tseJJmyk879GTkVfw/s1600/IMG_0405.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKLFNXwVtbft8Ckbph6W96co3K1xORZPl02-zJvrhyZv1HlEJ9EmgPCDSBtqkNs4MydlEschAuYgSxPsS6_fVOw6AOvk5DIKD4fxuI8JSvFzB7Z6JjoUN2GbFO-1tseJJmyk879GTkVfw/s320/IMG_0405.jpg" width="240" /></a>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. <br />
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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. <br />
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As I leave Lincoln there is an adventure store that's<br />
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advertising Moose tours, 97% sightings. I remain hopeful. <br />
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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.<br />
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Moose Search: 0<br />
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Song in my head: Etta James; At Last</blockquote>
Boydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129584376762381650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519243614774181541.post-1905031961304931152015-09-10T06:45:00.001-07:002018-02-08T10:43:35.779-08:00Day 53. Royalton, VT to North Haverhill, NH<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">If you woke up this morning and won an award, how would you feel? Coffee, blueberry muffins and an award is a pretty good start to the day. Add a scrambled egg, sausage and cantaloupe and you have the beginning of my day today. The breakfast was provided by Jim and Gerie, whose farmhouse in Royalton, VT I stayed in for the night. They are former dairy farmers and have quite the modern home with many antiques throughout. Oh, the award? Quietest guest they have ever had. That was the greeting and acknowledgement that I received this morning as I entered the kitchen for breakfast. I like it. We talked quite a while over breakfast on a variety of topics and I had them laughing over a few of my escapades, even when I was not trying to be funny, unfortunately. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">A light fog was resting over their farm, but it was clear on the roads, as they said it would be. Within 6 miles of my start, the Vermont Law School emerges from the trees. The corner that occupies many of the buildings and supporting shops is bustling with students apparently heading toward class with a cross between confidence and concern that can dictate the first days of school. The campus, especially being a law school, seemed a bit out of place, remote perhaps. But that is probably unfair simply because I happen upon if from a backroad. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCrI_FjXgrEJEd9bSJUDT0gf38cxitsUXU6kXJOYpE5FnkUlS4nQchDPKNn6MMrbV0OMZhGFV7rrFnVuaAL7Jaxj233oNz-gcwrdNqa267YDxv73j40fblYisJF8Z7cbyc64rAnNLPEjQ/s1600/IMG_0392.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCrI_FjXgrEJEd9bSJUDT0gf38cxitsUXU6kXJOYpE5FnkUlS4nQchDPKNn6MMrbV0OMZhGFV7rrFnVuaAL7Jaxj233oNz-gcwrdNqa267YDxv73j40fblYisJF8Z7cbyc64rAnNLPEjQ/s320/IMG_0392.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">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. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Beyond the morning encouragement of my award, (Yes, I choose to look at it as an achievement to have been the quietest) today was filled with more. On my initial ascent, a silver-bearded gentleman in a jeep slows to my turtle pace and ask me if I am headed to Maine. I affirm that is my destination. He ask if I started in Oregon or Washington and I reply Astoria, Oregon was the beginning of the trek. As a car pulls up behind him, he gives a fist pump and shouts encouragement and something about his butt hurting just thinking about it. I notice his yellow flashing light on top of the jeep and realize he is a rural route mail carrier. He passes me several times in the road, each time with me simply plodding along. Some time later, I turn left past a general store and he is out front talking to someone as he spots me and yells, "there he is." They both shout encouragement as I pass and wave back. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">I stop for lunch at a general store and deli in Piermont, NH. (Pop. 709). There I meet Rob Elder. I have taken my cranberry chicken salad sandwich with jalapeƱos and banana peppers to a picnic bench behind the store. Rob walks up and introduces himself and we talk about my journey and other adventures his family has been on. As I explain about creating awareness and raising money for AFI, he generously reaches into his pocket and hands me cash as a donation. (Adding it to the road donations I will total at the end). He grew up in the area and moved back after living in New York for many decades. His son passed away six years ago and he said he dedicated Friday's to waving and encouraging people in town every Friday. He goes on to say that he eventually gave that up..... and simply does it everyday. Apparently true to his commitment, today he was out delivering food to some of the elders in the community. I finish my lunch after he leaves and set out on my way. Shortly up the hill we meet again and he pulls over to share two thoughts that will give me a slice of New Hampshire. One is that there are two 80+ year old men who grew up in the area and now live up the road together in one of only two brick houses in Piermont. He gives me a brief version of their varied and colorful history and encourages me to stop by for a minute or wave if I don't have the time. The other was that he volunteered to come get me some 20 miles up the road at my campsite and take me to dinner, since it was predicting rain for the night. I politely decline the latter generosity, but find my way to the old brick house where I spend several minutes talking to Ron and Albert, colorful indeed. Ron is "an old 'Sailah'" who served in Korea. He does not drive, but still rides his bike around the area. He tells me he put over 1800 miles on his bike one 'summah'. Albert is dairy farmer that "all the kids used to work for", but had watered down his milk back in '87 and could not dairy farm since then. As I speak to some of you, I will tell you more about them. They got in their dented and hard worn old Chevy truck, that seemed to fit right in with the rest of the residence, to head to town. As I peddle off, Ron yells, "see ya in the funny 'papahs'". Cool. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">After a bit, I pedal forth and am drawn in by a farm stand, as I often am. The Indian Corn Mill farm stand specializes in Apples and Apple cider. I inquire if I could buy just two apples, one for now and one for my camp tonight. The proprietor says no, but that she will give me two. She selects of her finest and throws in a glass of apple cider since I had to cycle in the heat. She explains that they are known for their cider and that it get better in October with the different varieties of apples she uses. I must admit, with zero exaggeration that it was the finest apple cider I have ever tasted, even if it was just September. I agree to take her gift, but explain that I will add the value of it to the donations I have received on road. She bids me safe travel and I am off again. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Ultimately, I settle into the Wildwood National Forest campsite and prep my tent and tarps for the pending rain, cooking a quick dinner before it gets here. Behind the rain is supposed to be cooler weather to offset this recent heatwave they have had here. I will gladly welcome its arrival. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Oh yeah. Did I mention I made it to New Hampshire, the penultimate state on the tour. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Moose sighting: wait for it ---- 0. But the road side moose crossing signs are increasing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Song in my head: Stevie Wonder; Higher Ground. </span>Boydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129584376762381650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519243614774181541.post-72609346611181756392015-09-08T20:36:00.002-07:002015-09-08T20:36:46.849-07:00Stats update - Just a few days to go<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">We are on the homestretch and have exceeded our initial stated goal of $10,000. Frank Lyons doubled his generosity and put us over the top a few weeks back and we have continued to build on it. What amazing support for an amazing organization. As we finish this week, let's continue to create awareness among our friends and co-workers about the opportunity that they can help create through their donations to Alliance for Independence. A reminder, if your company has a matching program, please take the time to process the paperwork to make your donation go further. </span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH_B-yuVfh3riEDlSWfInBJFuigF3lV3e7t8xVq1P80swI0Rcn7NPvVHIxZjggSSLnFql4cy0nM3YRtw189vb69OnWjZYMoMSQ35ayZlcGjRJ4JtjFwpScc4Ee7OGV77BjFEAhWv-sN34/s1600/IMG_0393.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH_B-yuVfh3riEDlSWfInBJFuigF3lV3e7t8xVq1P80swI0Rcn7NPvVHIxZjggSSLnFql4cy0nM3YRtw189vb69OnWjZYMoMSQ35ayZlcGjRJ4JtjFwpScc4Ee7OGV77BjFEAhWv-sN34/s320/IMG_0393.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">We sit at $10,950 as of this writing. I think we can break $12,000 this week. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Thanks again for your incredible generosity and for taking the time to read the blog. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Cycling Stats. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">100,214 feet climbed </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">3,654 miles</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">286 hours in the saddle. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">57 days</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">51 riding days </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">12 states</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">8 dog chases</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">5 flats</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">4 ferry rides</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">3 time zones</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">2 countries </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">0 moose</span>Boydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129584376762381650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519243614774181541.post-77227967707542102542015-09-08T20:33:00.001-07:002018-02-08T11:01:59.303-08:00Day 52. Shoreham, VT to Royalton, VT<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtVd4gviH8tprOxEir5NmgLo7G0Yg-yE2C8ClPTws-JXwbary_wBNQBgM3Yiol9uwD1J9mlGzMoeRSfIKkeOsyugRiOGfyqNZDdKrsx1wlD_pvnWSa4597nepKS-3_QI2vqQO1yhzCt5I/s1600/IMG_0389.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtVd4gviH8tprOxEir5NmgLo7G0Yg-yE2C8ClPTws-JXwbary_wBNQBgM3Yiol9uwD1J9mlGzMoeRSfIKkeOsyugRiOGfyqNZDdKrsx1wlD_pvnWSa4597nepKS-3_QI2vqQO1yhzCt5I/s320/IMG_0389.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">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. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">The big meal should be the ticket to begin the assault on the final miles through the mountains. I am less than 500 miles from the finish and ready to start the grind over a few steep peaks. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">The ride starts with what I can expect each day, lots of ups and downs with a variety of grades. The early part of the route is through farms of apples, dairy and maple stands. The surrounding mountains are just getting the first brush strokes of autumn with initial shades of yellow, tawny, and a hints of rust or red just beginning to emerge like a breaking sunrise. Rivers and creeks are my roadside companions today and I prefer them when we are flowing the same direction. The water seems unusually low and that seems to be confirmed by a few of the local people. It is always low this time of year, but they have not had rain for some time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">I go upstream for the early part of the ride today and face the first of the big climbs. As a matter of fact, it is the second highest summit I will cross in the final days. My maps from Adventure Cycling show the elevation profile of this final week. Broadloaf, the big climb of the day looks intimidating, so I start the the trek with some concern. Shortly after passing through the college town of Middlebury, the climb starts just before I cross the Middlebury River where I see a sign the says Ripton 4 miles and Broadloaf 7 miles. Knowing the peak is a couple miles past the town of Broadloaf, I hit the bailout gear and start up the hill in earnest. In short order, my legs and lungs are on fire. A pair of walkers speak greetings and encouragement and I only have enough air to mutter a grunt of acknowledgement. The thought that I might not be able to do this for seven miles sets in. I am struggling and about the time that I know I will not be able to do this for the next 7 miles there is a slight relief in the grade. My legs are still on fire hauling the heavy bike and gear up the mountain, but my breathing is easier with the relief in pitch. In a bit less than two miles the road eases to a reasonable climb and I am encouraged that I can find the cadence to grind it out. At the 4 mile mark of the climb there is a roadside general store in Ripton. This jewel of a store offers a nice break. While paying for a drink and protein bar, the shopkeeper tells me that I just cleared the steepest grade on the entire route. -- the entire route across the country. I am skeptical, but elated as I want that to be true. Annoyingly, I ask clarifying questions to be sure and even a local shopper jumps into the conversation to offer his confirmation. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ISDFXc45zxyv0V4WRshQW5S-sR22ytRSXRVQqLbUwlQnq3N8RMVSCtJUIg6GIXtlcjWGtglSucMtp-PQH8Wg8kupTF4TfIHoQ6d_FvIUOk69bRFL4ZAJfHNtZvw6jotaWfisxFKjAw4/s1600/IMG_0394.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ISDFXc45zxyv0V4WRshQW5S-sR22ytRSXRVQqLbUwlQnq3N8RMVSCtJUIg6GIXtlcjWGtglSucMtp-PQH8Wg8kupTF4TfIHoQ6d_FvIUOk69bRFL4ZAJfHNtZvw6jotaWfisxFKjAw4/s320/IMG_0394.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">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%. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">The ascent quickly becomes history as the descent starts. The roads are incredibly rough and I burn some breaks diving down the mountain. There was a time that I would throw caution to the wind and see how fast I could manage. Not today, I am conservative on the downhill. I have ridden too far to do dumb now. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">My lunch stop is Rochester at a place Robert Frost often came on hot days to the soda fountain that was in the general store. Today, it is a cafe with a couple of tables on the sidewalk where lunch is enjoyed and finished off with a Maple shake. Yep. Maple shake. Delicious. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Cycling on, there is a warning roadside sign that cautions the road warriors to "Stay Alert" "Moose Crossing". I have been alert for a thousand miles. We are getting close. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Weeks ago many of the towns and villages that were passed through were established in the late 1800's. In this part of the country, the towns were chartered in the late 1700's. Tonight I am in Royalton, chartered in 1769. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Moose Search: 0. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Song in my head: The Proclaimers; I'm gonna be (500 Miles)</span><br />
<br />Boydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129584376762381650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519243614774181541.post-53119849242045488182015-09-08T06:17:00.000-07:002018-02-08T11:06:56.154-08:00Day 51. North Creek, NY to Shoreham, VT<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9GFQfS34_EEtFmowmqIXOPvTBmoCMz91U3eRT4xxkWOnIF4SF6bBIHzQOPL-DxN8S3jSin4cADcwIAYGhAGVnocv7riPIe6h8NzQvyS5blr9LE9IL5nxQixlrxsXXPgid4mJADeq2Iyg/s1600/IMG_0386.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9GFQfS34_EEtFmowmqIXOPvTBmoCMz91U3eRT4xxkWOnIF4SF6bBIHzQOPL-DxN8S3jSin4cADcwIAYGhAGVnocv7riPIe6h8NzQvyS5blr9LE9IL5nxQixlrxsXXPgid4mJADeq2Iyg/s320/IMG_0386.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">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. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">We had intended on fly-fishing and white water rafting, but neither worked out. The fishing had many obstacles and the local guide said the best bets were float fishing, but they were long distance trips that we did not have the time to do. The whitewater trip was actually cancelled after we sat by the launch area for several hours waiting on the dam gears to be fixed. Yes. I spelled that correctly, the dam release is what the rafters count on for the whitewater run. One of the gears stripped and after multiple updates that it would be only a "short while", the rafting guides had to call it off because it was getting too late to make it down the river. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">We took advantage of that time to just chill, get the laundry done and crank up a great fire for roasting hot dogs. Sometimes you forget just how good fully roasted hot dogs can be. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">After another round of frisbee golf on the side of Gore Mountain the next morning, it was time to get back on the bike and finish the final leg of the trip. A relatively short ride today to Ticonderoga, NY to catch one more small ferry ride into Vermont, home of the Green Mountains. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">The ride was beautiful with the mountains starting to get steeper and the banks of the lake becoming more sheer. The traffic seemed light for a Labor Day weekend which made for a relaxing run, especially on a long, fast 2 mile descent into Ticonderoga. That was certainly fun, but the cross winds had me feathering the brakes several times to keep a steady ride. Of course that just means that the climbs on the other side of the river are going to have a price that must be paid. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">It is unseasonably hot here with temps reaching 95 degrees in Shoreham when the highs this time of year usually barely break into the 70s. There is constant grumbling by the locals, and I must admit, I was certainly hoping for cooler temps as well. There are a couple of rain days ahead of me that should bring cooler temps behind it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">I only have one more camping night this final week, as I am staying in several inns along the way. Tonight I am in 200 year old Shoreham Inn that has a small restaurant and pub downstairs. Great place to stay and other than being a Manchester United fan, </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">the owners are fantastic. He was born and raised in Manchester, so that certainly trumps my remote fandom of Tottenham.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">We start climbing the Green and White Mountains over the next three days. I am told I am in for some beautiful cycling as I end this journey. Tomorrow is on to South Royalton, VT</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Moose Search: 0. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Song in my head: Aerosmith; Back in the Saddle.</span>Boydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129584376762381650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519243614774181541.post-61734924184121259072015-09-05T18:16:00.000-07:002018-02-08T11:15:25.048-08:00Day 50. Eighth Lake Campground, NY to North Creek, NY<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
The campsite last evening had a view of the lake and was a short walk through an open common grassy area to its bank. As the sun was setting behind me, I just sat at a bench under a hemlock tree and simply watched a loon fish in the middle of the lake and mallards along its edge. Of many lessons I have learned on this trip, one of the most enjoyable and rewarding is just to settle down and savor the moment in front of you. I have not always been good at just "sitting" and relaxing. As dusk approaches, in vain, I keep an eye out for the moose to grandiosely make an appearance at the edge of the lake. </div>
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The moose never appears, but the stars make a brilliant showing in the early moonless sky. The clear sky and calm lake create a gorgeous picture that I could not capture on film. Framed by heavy hemlock limbs and edged by the deep dark sloping hillside, the spectacle of the stars reflecting off the lake like hundreds of fireflies is striking. So I sit and savor. </div>
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My hopes of an early morning moose sighting are quickly dashed by the heavy fog on the lake. It is a short, 50 mile day into North Creek, so I am certainly in no rush, especially after yesterday. I break camp and head out to the ranger stand to better get a gauge of the weather. The fog is lighter today and I am off in short order. There are still patches along the route, but it is light and the road has a nice wide, but rough, shoulder. </div>
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The mountains, lakes and towns of Central Adirondacks make for a splendid ride. You certainly understand why this is a favorite destination of many vacationers. I have climbed about 10,000 feet in the last few days, but they do not fell arduous with the payoff of the scenery. </div>
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The towns along the route <span style="text-align: center;">such as Old Gorge, Inlet and Indian Lake are all preparing for the last big summer push of tourist to their towns this Labor Day weekend. I am preparing as well. My brother Blake and my nephew Chase will be meeting me here in North Creek for a weekend in the mountains for fishing and white water rafting. Over the past several years, we have been backpacking on this weekend. We kept the tradition going this year, sans the backcountry backpacking. We will probably take an easy hike or two, however.</span></div>
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It has been 21 days and over 1500 miles since my last full day off the bicycle. I am looking forward to this weekend before we saddle up and finish the trip next Sunday, if all goes well. </div>
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Moose sighting: 0. Although deer and turkey are still in abundance. </div>
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Song in my head. Dave Brubeck; Take Five</div>
Boydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129584376762381650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519243614774181541.post-11996277857801937662015-09-05T18:13:00.000-07:002018-02-08T11:24:55.227-08:00Day 49. Osceola, NY to Eighth Lake, NY<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">
The cross-country ski cabin was a super place to stay. The cabin is well- worn and with a distinctive slope towards the front door, but that creates more of the ambience and indeed the comfort of the place. </div>
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I have found the people of Upstate New York to be exceptionally friendly and generous. As I enter the town and check my map, a lady pulls alongside to make sure that I have everything I need and ensure I know my way. At the market, several different men coming and going ask me about the adventure. They stop and ask many earnest questions, one offers me a ride, since he is "going that way". Another buys me protein bars and all give encouragement and respect. As a matter fact, the previous day, I decided I did not want ramen noodles for dinner, so I biked a short way to town to the bar and grill. After many questions and banter from the locals, a couple bought my dinner. Earlier that same day, at a break two motorcyclist, Vinny and Chris in their full Andrew Dice Clay accents come over and talk for 10 minutes. They were hilarious and yet earnest in their inquiries. The store apparently specialized in fudge and they treated me to some of the finest. </div>
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(I am keeping all the direct donations and "free meals" to make a total donation from my friends from the road at the conclusion of the ride). </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1sSGZF0wDwqm5NsX1YNxne41qEWbxZ1k0glWutjONXJyuEUFxjNesiO1jEXOrqke-52uzY1AtGNp7zd4056TXAkkG6b0ICq2yedkD98O7VFIFMHNseGkIo-SccIEaHo8mqZWTPwd2Re0/s1600/IMG_0315.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1sSGZF0wDwqm5NsX1YNxne41qEWbxZ1k0glWutjONXJyuEUFxjNesiO1jEXOrqke-52uzY1AtGNp7zd4056TXAkkG6b0ICq2yedkD98O7VFIFMHNseGkIo-SccIEaHo8mqZWTPwd2Re0/s320/IMG_0315.JPG" width="320" /></a>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. </div>
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At lunch I am told there have been Moose sighted in the area. I am hopeful. I am staying on Eighth Lake tonight and will be up early in case one is spotted. My neighbor in the adjacent site tonight has a high end Bushnell scope on a tripod pointed out over the lake for such sightings. </div>
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Tomorrow to North Creek, NY. </div>
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Moose Search: 0</div>
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Song in my head: Van Morrison; Into the Mystic</div>
Boydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129584376762381650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519243614774181541.post-81582839780816743152015-09-03T06:40:00.000-07:002015-09-03T15:22:43.454-07:00Day 48. Sterling, NY to Osceola, NY<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Today (Wednesday) is the last day riding with Brian. We sink washed out cycling clothes the night before and hung them out on the porch of the cabin to attempt to dry overnight. They do not. The heavy dew and fog have ensured that the day starts with wet cycling kits. Except for the initial moments, it isn't really that uncomfortable, as we have some big hills to climb to start the morning and we will be wet in due time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">There is light fog and high haze during the morning ride and the upcoming sun is a shrouded deep orange ball as it rises above the trees. We ride together for the first 17 miles to Fulton, NY and have breakfast at a roadside diner and skating rink. Then we cycle over the bridge and part ways, Brian to the south to Syracuse and I turn north. Brian makes Syracuse in good time and takes his bike to the local shop for disassembly and shipping back home. He has time to relax at the airport before he returns home. It was a great week of riding. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">My cyclometer has quit working and my cycling shoes are coming apart in different sections. I make three different stops to fix both, only to have success in finding shoe goop to apply overnight to keep them together for another 11 days before they are permanently retired. Cyclometer still not working. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">The route turning north is increasing in climbs, a prelude to the mountains in front of me for the finishing 1 1/2. The towns and hamlets are becoming smaller and further apart in this part of northern NY. We have enjoyed various roadside wildflowers the last few days, but here the late summer high grasses have choked out the remaking sparse blooms. I cycle in heavy overcast skies past areas that appear to be seasonal shacks and cottages. Many of them are in various states of structural stability. The darker skies, thick woods and cabins in disrepair give off the feeling that this is the area that New Yorkers tell stories about around the campfire. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQR-W6883UFLwzgVbL_zk43_fSLloyC5elc5qMDxA9BAS79Z7eN3PX_lKRH8ajMgeTPXbAIiXGAOLFtQcOH5cgiKKFSy9VK5lnjYlnLyXM-VGer3UpcyR_BvhyphenhyphenD9Up3GmVvCqt1QFh9t4/s1600/IMG_0971.JPG.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQR-W6883UFLwzgVbL_zk43_fSLloyC5elc5qMDxA9BAS79Z7eN3PX_lKRH8ajMgeTPXbAIiXGAOLFtQcOH5cgiKKFSy9VK5lnjYlnLyXM-VGer3UpcyR_BvhyphenhyphenD9Up3GmVvCqt1QFh9t4/s320/IMG_0971.JPG.jpeg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">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. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">I finish the days trek covering some more rolling hills and stay at a cross-country ski cabin in Osceola. A terrific place and concept. It is a place that skiers can come for a holiday, and ski the local trails. It has a loft with beds and a full kitchen, communal room and a dryer, so I can finally get my gear dry. In the springtime, the owner has installed two 18 hole frisbee golf courses along the ski trails that have at least 10 visitors come through while I am here. I try my hand at one of the courses, playing basically a round of bogey+ frisbee golf. It was a great change of pace and a nice walk through the wooded trails. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">I end the day with a bit of bike maintenance before I enjoy just sitting on the couch and reading for a bit. Tomorrow is on to my campsite at eighth lake campground. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Moose search: zip</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Music in my head: The Band: Up on Cripple Creek.</span>Boydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129584376762381650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519243614774181541.post-62506567158711934542015-09-03T06:35:00.001-07:002015-09-03T06:35:45.587-07:00Day 47. Rochester, NY to Sterling, NY<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">A good nights rest in Rochester allowed Brian and I to get started early on our quest to Sterling, NY. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">We needed a good nights rest to recoup from not only the previous day's ride, but to settle our nerves from the closest call I have had the entire trip. The day before we were riding along the Erie Canal trail and had to be routed up on the road as the trail switched banks. As Brian and I were crossing the road, a driver coming out of opposite side cross street, accelerates into our lane directly at Brian. A slam of the breaks and evasive maneuver by Brian avoided any contact, but it was certainly unnerving. After of check of pulses and apologies from the driver, we got out of the road and continued on our way. The adrenaline rush pushed us on to our destination. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">The early part of this day's ride we return to the Erie Canal trail for a repeat of the previous riding style for about the first 20 miles. After that we are back on the country roads that are now small farms and orchards of apples, peaches and pears. We stop at several roadside stands along the way to sample the enticing fruit, along with delicious maple coated peanuts. At one particular stop, an intimidating but beautiful Great Dane kept a loud barking vigilant watch over us until we departed. We are grateful he was obedient to the invisible fence because he could have overtaken us in two gallops. The second stand we stopped at the owner must have thought we looked haggard and just simply gave us the fruit to eat. These stops are a favorite part of my day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">We had grown accustomed to the flat route by the canal and had to mentally and physically adjust our cycling style to manage the 2400 feet of climbing. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghC-PNsCxXgLRfDVkGeyveBFIwkqC2nTF7VmdS66oHfK4uqchyACh459PCiH23oUTiUxpgx1IKUP6FjOx4oQXdfgUmNQjyJADQrMA-o0DN-hKUe_-j9ZsIT4ZycK3jXatjWUXT8bX5u08/s1600/IMG_0970.JPG.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghC-PNsCxXgLRfDVkGeyveBFIwkqC2nTF7VmdS66oHfK4uqchyACh459PCiH23oUTiUxpgx1IKUP6FjOx4oQXdfgUmNQjyJADQrMA-o0DN-hKUe_-j9ZsIT4ZycK3jXatjWUXT8bX5u08/s320/IMG_0970.JPG.jpeg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">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. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Our destination for the night is a one room, primitive cabin at the Sterling Campground. It has a nice porch that we enjoy just relaxing after the ride. That is typically priority number one, relax and recover. We crank up the JetBoil for some Raman noodles, soup and leftover sandwiches from lunch. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Deb, who runs the park has literally left the light on for us so we know what cabin to use. She has worked all day and has a birthday party for her 80 year old mom that evening. She mentioned earlier that she would be around about 8:30 to settle up. Indeed her cart eases up in front of the cabin and we step outside to pay. We talk about the ride, the adventure and that I am raising money for AFI. We talk about AFI for a few minutes, she gets out of her cart and generously hands us back the money for the cabin and tells us to make it a donation. What an incredible gesture. She is amazing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">We turn in for the evening and prepare for Brian's last day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Moose Search: Nada</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Song in my head: Joe Cocker; a little help from my friends. </span>Boydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129584376762381650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519243614774181541.post-42609104332847653322015-09-03T06:30:00.000-07:002015-09-03T06:30:54.060-07:00Day 46. Niagara Falls, Canada to Rochester, NY<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">God has smiled on us with great biking weather. Today the winds are very helpful and ease the burden of the 94 miles we put in for the day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">We leave our Hostel and get a quick breakfast at a local bakery and then work our way around the Niagara River towards US customs. Along the way, we stop and gawk at the massive natural whirlpool created by the erosion of the Niagara Escarpment. We literally are in awe of this, almost as much as the falls themselves. Incredible. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">We have to do a bit of climbing when to reach the border where we navigate through the tolls and the auto lanes to the customs agent. There are "back ways" that cyclist are directed to skip the bridge toll, but we wait in the car lanes to clear customs, just like everyone else. We pass through with ease and are back in the States and headed to Rochester. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6D-B9E10prOUvhpApmIe2kC679ByQi0WMLGns23TB4WDDReF__kEOVWLKBmE4a2EPTiZavgnfaVmKPOrtJ_uTiW_wHFV1kblLap3B2YYKO632ZenV9P9ccwm0IUw1TQ6twUIeh9wCrOM/s1600/IMG_0967.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6D-B9E10prOUvhpApmIe2kC679ByQi0WMLGns23TB4WDDReF__kEOVWLKBmE4a2EPTiZavgnfaVmKPOrtJ_uTiW_wHFV1kblLap3B2YYKO632ZenV9P9ccwm0IUw1TQ6twUIeh9wCrOM/s320/IMG_0967.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Most of the rest of the route is on the Erie Canalway trail. We follow that for 60 to 70 miles, a simple slip and fall away from the banks of the Erie Canal. After some slight trouble finding the start, we cruise down the bank only to realize that this is an un-paved trail with fine gray gravel and and hard packed substrate. At first we are very concerned about the miles we must endure the "off-road" path. Especially Brian who is on much thinner tires than I. At is turns out, this route is fantastic. It is smoother than most of the roads we were on in Ohio for sure. Not even close. The winds are behind us, the deck is firm and it is flat. With the extra friction, it is certainly slower than a smooth road, but we make pretty good time. We also make a big mess. Our bikes, bags and ourselves are coated with the dirt kicked up by the road. We are a sight to see as we arrive in Rochester. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">It is still a long day and we turn in early get some rest for the ride to Sterling the next day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Moose Search: Real 0. Large fake carving 1. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Music in my head: The Allman Brothers Band; Ramblin' Man</span>Boydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129584376762381650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519243614774181541.post-7011675456773963112015-08-31T19:51:00.002-07:002015-08-31T19:51:49.804-07:00Day 45. Hamburg, NY to Niagara Falls, Ont CA<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKAyFpPcjc330aLyc95MOQjZBJj-3MS1cXlTSK98byTYPiypPohub7uUXA_bAL2rRAWJ5mOkZIyRIyeDkiim7ZyuLVB-T7XUwdHYrNc8yVaJIYR0kxdTdsiTDiFKoaD_7Fi3SYM8BbQbo/s1600/IMG_0349.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKAyFpPcjc330aLyc95MOQjZBJj-3MS1cXlTSK98byTYPiypPohub7uUXA_bAL2rRAWJ5mOkZIyRIyeDkiim7ZyuLVB-T7XUwdHYrNc8yVaJIYR0kxdTdsiTDiFKoaD_7Fi3SYM8BbQbo/s320/IMG_0349.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">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. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">The day starts as we cycle neighborhoods and industrial edges of Orchard Park and Buffalo, NY. As were are navigating toward the Peace Bridge that will transport us to Canada, we are stopped by the Buffalo Naval and Military Park. The first to grab our attention is the USS Little Rock, who alongside the destroyer USS Sullivans and the submarine USS Croaker, are on display. We snap several photos of the impressive and intimidating vessels. Surrounding them in the adjacent park and walkway are several memorial and statues honoring the service men and women of Western NY. We spent several minutes ready and taking photos, as the memorial has its intended impact on us. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Soon we weave through the streets and cross the Peace Bridge in the single northbound lane. We pass through the automobile lanes for Canadian customs and the officer is very helpful in showing us how to navigate back onto our path. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE712rXh1pcuXzRBOX9BW5weS-BhU-h-o6p7Z1Mc9xvxpRwA3hqkJQzBAnGf8uN-Z0a22ypP0kC5R9MnynS4PeLQoJw9QJ7Jjvdx5BCHcWp8tO5naTqHMS-6ziCM6mW6sTqOKRU9PUr4g/s1600/IMG_0351.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE712rXh1pcuXzRBOX9BW5weS-BhU-h-o6p7Z1Mc9xvxpRwA3hqkJQzBAnGf8uN-Z0a22ypP0kC5R9MnynS4PeLQoJw9QJ7Jjvdx5BCHcWp8tO5naTqHMS-6ziCM6mW6sTqOKRU9PUr4g/s320/IMG_0351.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">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. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">We enjoy lunch near the falls with the mass of tourist who are there to do exactly what we are doing: gawk at a natural wonder. It is certainly crowded, but we seem to create some gaps with our bikes that allow us good views. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Although it is a short day, we are tired from the long previous days' </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">rides and we find a park to rest and relax for a short time. At 4pm we go to our Youth Hostel to check in where we have bunk beds for the night. This hostel is a very cool place with a basement with pool table, washing machine and place to chill out and read. The bunk beds however are more troubling to navigate as you get older, apparently. Climbing down takes a level of dexterity better suited for some of my days gone by. Regardless, it is a great stay. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizJyFBYZeicU6tokRjxynpM8SXF4SDfn89-u26Aag5AErujmX1d3vSbmShHSibREeJO-wBCBEBya1_QpsBOokJMCukTnMcJlQ-GPluH0FWoQGh5lU_P4rvszGESmlDR8Kh8rkcwWMtjqY/s1600/IMG_0354.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizJyFBYZeicU6tokRjxynpM8SXF4SDfn89-u26Aag5AErujmX1d3vSbmShHSibREeJO-wBCBEBya1_QpsBOokJMCukTnMcJlQ-GPluH0FWoQGh5lU_P4rvszGESmlDR8Kh8rkcwWMtjqY/s320/IMG_0354.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">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. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Today (Sunday) is my wife Brenda's birthday. She is having a wonderful day with our daughter who has returned from South Africa. I, on the other hand, am spending her birthday in Niagara Falls with Brian. That just simply "ain't right" -- at any level. She has been wonderful for supporting me at every step of this ride, I think I will owe her big time for this. Actually, I know I do. Happy Birthday, I love you and miss you. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Tomorrow is back to the States in Western NY. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Moose Search: nope. 0</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Song in my head. Happy Birthday, to you. </span>Boydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129584376762381650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519243614774181541.post-63358803617461907532015-08-30T14:40:00.003-07:002015-08-30T14:40:25.973-07:00Day 44. Erie, PA to Hamburg, NY<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">A fine day for a bike ride. We start out on our 90 mile journey to New York in great cycling weather again. Light winds, overcast and comfortable temperatures allow for a relaxing journey. Today is much better at almost every level. Namely we had no flat tires nor detours, which helps settle us into our tandem attack on this leg. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix753xTCfRm7qdsgaCBiIq3BIPC5JualH1h8pH2jQfA6wIonGowoNegA4oKUU5t57CyIkQAOa7xBS8QTjsXId0uUp2MQqL-V0y0adtBj3l7mYLXtiNtJ_F5xnxJrYzLOgsN7xmPTQ8VzE/s1600/IMG_9332.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix753xTCfRm7qdsgaCBiIq3BIPC5JualH1h8pH2jQfA6wIonGowoNegA4oKUU5t57CyIkQAOa7xBS8QTjsXId0uUp2MQqL-V0y0adtBj3l7mYLXtiNtJ_F5xnxJrYzLOgsN7xmPTQ8VzE/s320/IMG_9332.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">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. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Our breaks work out better today, at least for Brian since he is not spending them wrenching on his bicycle. Our first stop is relatively early at a roadside fruit and vegetable stand where we munch on a juicy Pennsylvania peach. They certainly give the famous Georgia peaches a run for their money. At the stand we meet Kathleen and Barbara who are incredibly friendly and helpful. They ask a lot of questions on why we are so crazy as to ride bikes all day long. Barbara notes that several cross-stop by this stand during the year. We explain that the ride helps raise awareness and money for AFI and Kathleen generously donates to the cause. We are pooling these "roadside" donations that have been acquired. We enjoyed our morning break and chat. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Just down the road we take another quick break where </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">a young girl who had a roadside lemonade stand for 10 cents a glass. Worth it and she earned a tip. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">We eat a full late breakfast just a few miles from NY and then cross into the Empire State, our third State in three days. Our afternoon and lunch break time out perfectly as we stop near marinas or on elevated cliffs near a lighthouse overlooking Lake Erie. Relaxing and rewarding. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikhXch3nP3qXHSqA0ihURdvAxu85PU75nXjlYC41S-c5Nl6z3iUlFjF88QjthElzbiKodpW3nHdzf5XUo7Vr5DglTjiR_j3-67mSkCfP_va-uZYX_u44CAHKGI6UcrKmarLY9R9hi6F4g/s1600/IMG_9336.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikhXch3nP3qXHSqA0ihURdvAxu85PU75nXjlYC41S-c5Nl6z3iUlFjF88QjthElzbiKodpW3nHdzf5XUo7Vr5DglTjiR_j3-67mSkCfP_va-uZYX_u44CAHKGI6UcrKmarLY9R9hi6F4g/s320/IMG_9336.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">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. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Tomorrow we are on to Canada to see the falls. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Moose search: zilch, but getting closer to moose country again. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Song in my head: Frank Sinatra; New York, New York. That's Life. </span>Boydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129584376762381650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519243614774181541.post-21515602522677304522015-08-29T18:47:00.000-07:002015-08-29T18:47:26.846-07:00Day 43. Mentor, OH to Erie, PA<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">It is a great day for riding with the cool temps, calm somewhat helping breezes and partly cloudy skies. We leave Mentor about 7am. As we pick our way back to the main mapped route, we see 6 deer loping though the light morning fog in a field just to our right. We are slightly elevated over them and have a great view as they pass the road in front of us. We are off to a good start and our plan is to stop often on our 80+ mile day. </span><br /><br style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;" />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">In short order we are on secondary roads that are taking us away from the edge of Lake Erie. We are in communities where there are small farms and many different plant and tree nurseries. The roads are poor, but that seems to be the theme in Ohio so far. Eventually the route takes us back toward the lake where we plan to stop for refreshment at Geneva-on-the-lake. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2X3nDsICvODORjbQVMvId7I7yylav6t2r6dHcq50sIaxX7kVGhdbXO-1-6Ce18oZRqkzONMNK8oC9rLbGB2nyZB1Mdbdw0D3ktV-92eo3bGlNDomQAodaRNc-8184vDk0ebC4dEyRZ9Q/s1600/IMG_0957.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2X3nDsICvODORjbQVMvId7I7yylav6t2r6dHcq50sIaxX7kVGhdbXO-1-6Ce18oZRqkzONMNK8oC9rLbGB2nyZB1Mdbdw0D3ktV-92eo3bGlNDomQAodaRNc-8184vDk0ebC4dEyRZ9Q/s320/IMG_0957.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">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. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Eventually we do make the turn into Geneva and are surprised that the atmosphere is more carnival like than expected with arcades, rides, mini-golf, and wide variety of vendor shacks all lining the street. These are permanent fixtures and the gaudy, loud paint selections add to the ambience of the street. There are not many people in the streets as it still mid morning and perhaps it is coming to the end of the season a bit. We do find refreshment in the form of a donut vendor who has been there since 1938. Brian says he is a connoisseur of junk food and this is a quality donut. He is right. They were out of coffee, so we decide to slow pedal down the street. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">From behind me I hear, "ugh". I turn to see Brian bent over his bike squeezing his rear tire. Flat. After some unsuccessful investigation as to the cause, he has to pull things apart and change a tire. As he is working under the shade of a Gyro shack, I give my moral support from a park bench a few feet away. While he was struggling with the tire, I think I napped a minute. Not much support, I must admit, but bicycle tire change is a one man job. It is. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Soon the tire is changed and I get a cup of coffee from a small roadside joint with a crass and obnoxious waitress. She is harmless and somewhat funny, but admittedly I am glad to leave the half finished coffee behind. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6KKMjoA1P0RSvLaBHJdV4vk0LPW4a3E90WcHjgSNGLR5-ShCi5BOSqqgzhsOsAWPE18nw0sFE56mQ244PJtOKMEKwfurhOD0XFRjGjBdZb_ndtn9BxtX0pIXtcLdyGSDXXqSXf55-jBI/s1600/IMG_0959.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6KKMjoA1P0RSvLaBHJdV4vk0LPW4a3E90WcHjgSNGLR5-ShCi5BOSqqgzhsOsAWPE18nw0sFE56mQ244PJtOKMEKwfurhOD0XFRjGjBdZb_ndtn9BxtX0pIXtcLdyGSDXXqSXf55-jBI/s320/IMG_0959.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">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. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">We pass some vineyards right along the side of the road where we snap some photos of the grapes hanging from the vines. A bit further down the road Brian ask is the tire is low again. Sure enough, another flat. This time, however, he thinks he has found the problem. The wheel tape has shifted and looks like the tune has rubbed against the spoke ends to cause the slow leaks. As he is breaking down the bike again, two touring cyclist from Geneva, Switzerland pull along side. While Brian is slaving over the tire change, I spend the time talking and comparing notes with our cycling kinsmen. Again, I am not very helpful, but it is a one man job. It is. Brian does a temporary repair on the wheel tape, replaces the tube and we are off again. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">The stress and frustration of two flats creep into the ride and we are anxious to get to our destination. Fortunately, our Motel is within one mile of a bike shop. A huge help. We drop off our gear and head to the shop where the bike mechanic confirms Brian's diagnosis and she makes quick work of the repair. Relieved that the problem seems to be solved. We head out for some fish dinner, preparing for our ride to New York tomorrow. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Moose Search: not a chance. 0</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Song in my head: Tom Waits; Broken Bicycles </span><br />
<br />Boydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129584376762381650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519243614774181541.post-40089147155277788002015-08-27T21:40:00.001-07:002015-08-28T02:35:28.452-07:00Day 42. Sandusky, OH to Mentor, OH<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhonyF43J2WqHXHX-DgD2vuaVDNkiROkx86u8o9aWeYlFqhdLXasFu8vG2BUnnU-Ths-FigYaBANWTcP4FpNOBJddAb60aokEKgz6k7INFCn-19FQ5sE1G1EiriXBVegr-IHPCx7KzWmb4/s1600/IMG_0347.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhonyF43J2WqHXHX-DgD2vuaVDNkiROkx86u8o9aWeYlFqhdLXasFu8vG2BUnnU-Ths-FigYaBANWTcP4FpNOBJddAb60aokEKgz6k7INFCn-19FQ5sE1G1EiriXBVegr-IHPCx7KzWmb4/s320/IMG_0347.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">I left the camp this morning to head to Cleveland to meet my friend Brian who has flown in and getting his bike assembled and tuned for our rides together the next 5 days. It will be fun working the roads and the routes in tandem. From there we will tack on a another 32 miles to make the day a 90+ mile roll. It is another flat route and the winds are relatively light and favorable, so it makes the distance manageable. Did I mention I love the wind?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Shortly after leaving I return to the countryside for a few miles of crops and orchards. Quickly though, the journey turns to a suburban then urban ride that has quite a few twist and turns. The main route skirts the surf of Lake Erie. There is a wide variety of housing along the way. When the road is hard up against the lake, the homes are magnificent. Some quaint and charming, some massive and mansion-like. Some with the long circle drives around central flowing fountains in front of the the large pillared house. Others were stately older homes in a variety of styles and textures, including siding, brick and rock. All are multi-million (and higher) dollar homes that went on for miles. There were a lot of laborers hard at work keeping up the homes for the daily house parade. At one point it felt like the road was the comma that separates the millions on the left from the hundreds of thousandson the right. It was impressive to see and had something that everyone one would like, and dislike, for that matter. Most of my favorites were on the right side of the road (comma). </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJsBwvsg5sn_REyptYkB6bHOykVzosofG62_pTfBlLL8dQPqy5ml0RgIBHAP3j1FDFlJcFNieucRnqpbTIskG-3-DXhDTbesiW1tI9ZAd5oHgJ4itQ_HdpZvvM-qLsHkvgbikz1u96PXs/s1600/IMG_0348.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJsBwvsg5sn_REyptYkB6bHOykVzosofG62_pTfBlLL8dQPqy5ml0RgIBHAP3j1FDFlJcFNieucRnqpbTIskG-3-DXhDTbesiW1tI9ZAd5oHgJ4itQ_HdpZvvM-qLsHkvgbikz1u96PXs/s320/IMG_0348.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Then the road turns and the housing completely changes. As the route turns away from the lake, industry and commerce take over the real estate as I pedal through some hard worn areas. Then in a few miles, massive homes on Lake Avenue again. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Ultimately the ride turns urban, which is an altogether different part of the adventure. At this point, we are not a curiosity, we are just an impediment for people who have places to go in a hurry, apparently. As we set off the the final 32 miles, we get to meander downtown Cleveland to avoid the main thoroughfares. We see the underbelly of the city and some of its, frankly fascinating, infrastructure. The best part was the Center Street swing bridge, one of the oldest in the country. It allowed us t</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">o avoid the main bridges to create alternate cross routes over the Cuyahoga River. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">One of the two best auxiliary sights at these homes were the deer munching on the freshly manicured lawns of the mansions. It happened on multiple occasions. The scenario seemed bizarre this close to the big city of Cleveland. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Second, the most daring antic I witnessed was a banner approximately 3x8 with a large dark blue "M" trimmed in light maize adjacent to the words simple words "Go Blue" screaming from the sign. On a multi-million dollar home on the banks of Lake Erie....in Ohio. Priceless. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">As we leave downtown Cleveland we return to many of the expansive homes along the lakefront. Shortly thereafter, the ride is on rough, high traffic roads along harder suburban neighborhoods where we had to stay alert and defensive to avoid some self-absorbed driving. We are looking forward to calmer trails tomorrow afternoon. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">It is good to have a friend along and I am looking forward to the next few days. I have blabbered on about my routine, tour expectations, certain lessons learned, what to watch for, both good and bad. At this point, he may be reconsidering his decision. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">At times I find it hard to retell many of the experiences I have had on this ride. Having someone along to add perspective and to be able to help retell them, embellishing as necessary, when we get home will be entertaining. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Tomorrow we hit Pennsylvania. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Moose search: not a chance today. Still zilch. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Song in my head: Ian Hunter; Cleveland Rocks. (In honor of cycling past the rock n roll hall of fame.)</span>Boydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129584376762381650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519243614774181541.post-16703869905871871892015-08-26T21:57:00.001-07:002015-08-27T03:28:18.422-07:00Day 41. Sombra, Ont. CA to Sandusky, OH<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">My morning Canadian cycling route took me along the St. Claire River between enviable riverfront home and their docks. Most every dock had their red maple leafed national flag, proudly waving in the wind. Chairs and swings were positioned to over look their river toward the U.S. as if watching for the return of the elusive Stanley Cup. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Along the route, river otters, black squirrels and the oft present chipmunks were my morning companions as the scenery soon turned back to crops and fields. Apple orchards took center stage and my attention. I was certainly tempted nab an apple or two, but that was forbidden. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">The skies were obstructed windmills randomly placed throughout the landscape. I am pleased by the attempts to use alternative</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZugLrCpczdNzQ4xCnu8iyuzDCbTrwJG01TYU9dwxOtEi9IjyjL2hA6DcxHha6Liz03JkWbkRYcLYTKmkzRF0y3nGMJSKp59oDi2U2wW8gsh0wN7drCYPN9tSiwaV1Wd629iTrXtXQHT4/s1600/IMG_0342.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZugLrCpczdNzQ4xCnu8iyuzDCbTrwJG01TYU9dwxOtEi9IjyjL2hA6DcxHha6Liz03JkWbkRYcLYTKmkzRF0y3nGMJSKp59oDi2U2wW8gsh0wN7drCYPN9tSiwaV1Wd629iTrXtXQHT4/s320/IMG_0342.jpg" width="320" />energy, but the unstructured placing of them could have been more effective and less obtrusive, one would think. </a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">I get to take my third ferry ride in the past week to return to the States, this time by crossing Lake Erie. I have enjoyed each of them. My favorite, however, was the SS Badger across Lake Michigan. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Thursday my friend Brian Jackson will be joining me for 5 days of riding together. He is a cycling partner from Lakeland and this is the kind of trip we are always talking about. I am really looking forward to him joining in on the adventure the next few days. It has been a solitary ride up to now and having a friend to ride with will be fun. Having that friend be up </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">front doing long pulls as I draft behind him will be even more fun. It is like getting in behind a big diesel. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Sleeping in Ohio tonight and about to head through some big cities, including Cleveland tomorrow. Should be interesting. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Moose Search: 0</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Song in my head. Steppenwolf; Magic Carpet Ride. Etc</span>Boydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129584376762381650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519243614774181541.post-56411974894926063732015-08-26T21:52:00.002-07:002015-08-27T03:25:21.321-07:00Day 40. Otter Lake, MI to Sombra, Ont. Canada<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Breaking camp in overcast skies that would be with me all day, my destination is Canada, which is Southeast of my starting point. Seems odd but true. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">I made my peace with the wind last night. Our deal is that I will stop publicly complaining about it, and she will calm down a bit. After all, the wind is only doing its job, and it has been mostly helpful to me these past weeks. As a matter of fact, I love the wind. (Was that rushed? The last part seemed rushed). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">I am certainly wind-aided for the first 30 miles and the crosswinds that I encounter are less than 10mph, more than manageable. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMWpHVmm0j4zSUBW3b8YxqiejFcRP4p3_H4C8AjkMRr-SqMEKrjakhp9MVG61TZkTi6WL95AaWacNa1VyGPQuP9TsQ7-1HMgonAhQl19vneUXpfc3Npqgtn8MdEtEtOmmYVCU4vEqWe58/s1600/IMG_0329.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMWpHVmm0j4zSUBW3b8YxqiejFcRP4p3_H4C8AjkMRr-SqMEKrjakhp9MVG61TZkTi6WL95AaWacNa1VyGPQuP9TsQ7-1HMgonAhQl19vneUXpfc3Npqgtn8MdEtEtOmmYVCU4vEqWe58/s320/IMG_0329.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">The early part of the ride is right back out into the fields, farmlands and homesteads of the country. The crops increase their variety with tomatoes, cucumbers, various greens, beans and of course corn. The fauna is bountiful and has been for much of the past few days with deer and turkey being prevalent in the early mornings. The turkey have been present each day since Midland. Often they have been gathered at the sides of the country roads within a several feet of my passing bike. They are alert to my approach, but only shoo away when I come to a stop, in an effort to photograph. When I elect to simply pedal by, they just remain alert until I pass. So I did not get any good pictures. At some point I figured why bother them, just enjoy and pedal on. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Within the first 15 miles I happen upon North Branch, a proper Midwest small farm village, complete with feed store, farm equipment shop, garden center, bakery, cafe, barber shop and park. All aligned down main street with Lutheran Church at its center. Originally established in 1854, many of the surrounding houses were built turn of century and this town in particular seemed to have taken great pride in their preservation and restoration. I have seen many similar houses such as these along the way, but this particular village stands out among them. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj54flVbyUpTCEb229wXjPKKjbe63VR9MInDNqDItuhOHvNSIG66Dha0zwei1X-f7jSQphd2m5juNrZ4XAnJXIkzrjKFTYM0ixcpdPkgsjusJpmqrkijaFERqqHbq8jpNfcRBI-7Ic30fI/s1600/IMG_0331.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj54flVbyUpTCEb229wXjPKKjbe63VR9MInDNqDItuhOHvNSIG66Dha0zwei1X-f7jSQphd2m5juNrZ4XAnJXIkzrjKFTYM0ixcpdPkgsjusJpmqrkijaFERqqHbq8jpNfcRBI-7Ic30fI/s320/IMG_0331.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">My younger brother went to Yale. I now can say I went there was well.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"> The township of Yale, MI was on the route today. It goes without saying, but their Mascot for the local school is the Bulldogs. It is a nice place to stop, and has great history as well, including the Yale Hotel. Unlike North Branch, however, this town more dollar stores competing for space and attention than mom and pop stores. There is a small bakery in town where I take a break. With the cooler winds and overcast, I am looking to get warm for a minute. The bakery has a tempting looking apple fritter of odd design the beckons to be tried. As I want to help the local shop (my pure motivation) I decide to try the fritter with a cup of coffee. There is no seating inside so I find a place out of the winds on the sidewalk to test. Outside of the apples, perhaps, there's nothing good for you in this fritter -- and it taste like it. It was scrumptious. I only eat half, enjoying sips of my coffee. Then I eat the other half along with the remainder of my coffee and head down the road. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">St Claire and Marine city are the towns the route takes me on before I cross to Canada. St Claire has beautiful old estate homes on small rise overlooking the river of the same name. Some of the newest homes may even reach mansion status and are built right on the banks. Impressive, but ostentatious at some point. Marine City feels like an older fishing village that is still active, but with a tourist destination flair of BnBs and restaurants. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">I cross the river at Marine City on a small car ferry that cost 2 bucks for my bike. My journey officially covers two countries as I clear customs in Sombra, Ontario, Canada, short one small pepper spray bottle. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">On my way to the campsite for the night, a policeman pulls up alongside. Many thoughts go through my mind, including wondering if they take US dollars for bail money. As it turned out, he just asked me about the trip, with what eventually seemed like genuine interest as he was a weekend cyclist. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Moose Search: 0</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Song in my head: Stompin' Tom Connors; The Hockey Song, Rush; Tom Sawyer. </span>Boydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129584376762381650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519243614774181541.post-27687188921112214952015-08-24T22:54:00.000-07:002015-08-24T22:54:21.933-07:00Day 39. Midland, MI to Otter Bay, MI<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">The route for the past two days has been on US Bike Route 20, as mentioned. This route has taken me through city parks and trails, meandering paths and pedestrian bridges across the Saginaw River in Bay City. It has worked through alleyways and on sidewalks in long established hard working neighborhoods. Mostly it is on county roads and rail trails. It is well signed and creative. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiovqHEpbg_DbbMUxBVySdggvUnALEjb9I1tsU2xetYNAvsWnNaGDn2IMFk9ywERFQCBXX_ImTIr9TNRQxoq3KsUi68-5aumUPCIKk9FthtCTnsjuwg6TUEPuhKHSRfTS7JfoX6CAEyGhk/s1600/IMG_0280.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiovqHEpbg_DbbMUxBVySdggvUnALEjb9I1tsU2xetYNAvsWnNaGDn2IMFk9ywERFQCBXX_ImTIr9TNRQxoq3KsUi68-5aumUPCIKk9FthtCTnsjuwg6TUEPuhKHSRfTS7JfoX6CAEyGhk/s320/IMG_0280.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">The wind today is SW at 15-25 MPH. My primary direction is SE. So while not an absolute headwind, the crosswinds and I want to do battle again. The top of of that wind speed is a problem, no matter how you slice it. However, I could deal with a generally strong steady wind (not 20+). It is the swirling and gusts that frustrate me the most. If you can find the right gear, the wind is just like going up hill. However, when it dramatically gusts, like today, it forces you to constantly shift gears unexpectedly and to fight the bike. Of the nemesis of the road, the heat is still the worse, as it just beats you down. But the impish wind makes me angry at times. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Perhaps my attitude was not right to begin the day. About 4 miles into the effort, there was a road closed sign on the route due to roadwork. Looking for the detours, it would have added several miles, so I elect to press on toward the road closure. The thought is that I should be able to pass as I can simply walk around the issue. Well I could walk around it, just not simply. By the time I traversed through the construction work, passed the easement and through the fields, (over the river and through the woods) my bike and I were wet and muddy. It took me about 15 to clean the mud away from the tires and fenders with random sticks that I could find, so that it would freely roll. Not my best choice. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Meandering on the route, I came upon Bay City, Michigan. I did not take a break there, but U.S. 20 has me on a trail by parks and marinas along the river. That certainly appears to be the center of activities and of significant civic importance with the grandstands for events, parks, boardwalks, etc. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEindjGaOzjOnX_ow_G8miufvrIp4PBK9xAkFFMQbN5WkcfCyFcDh57y17vU59exv3sZufE4iQup4kiA9lFvLcf-oCOd5joPEt4Ws6TvX8aduMr4nST8Q0W7yThBYdlVLLtiE0sjQTeGoDg/s1600/IMG_0279.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEindjGaOzjOnX_ow_G8miufvrIp4PBK9xAkFFMQbN5WkcfCyFcDh57y17vU59exv3sZufE4iQup4kiA9lFvLcf-oCOd5joPEt4Ws6TvX8aduMr4nST8Q0W7yThBYdlVLLtiE0sjQTeGoDg/s320/IMG_0279.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">One of the dots on the map was Frankenmuth, MI. I ease out of the open farmlands, take a left, weave through the outskirts of a community and cross a river to cycle up on this Bavarian village. It was packed with people visiting the myriad of shops, inns and restaurants, as you would imagine a historic country German town. I am told this is the #1 tourist attraction in Michigan. I stop and walk the streets for a few minutes. It is certainly full of tourists. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">All was not battles with the wind, Bay City and Bratwurst today. The owners of a small deli where I had lunch gave me a discount for "being crazy enough to cycle that far". More importantly, the blustery wind had toyed with me enough today and as I headed the last 10 miles due east, she shifted full on out of the west and sailed me into my home for the night at the Sutter Campground. She was still blustery and swirling, just enough to let me know who was in charge. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Of note: I passed under I-75 today.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Moose Search: 0</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">I have been traveling predominately SE for the last two days. I will continue that trajectory tomorrow on my way to.......Canada. Seems a bit counter-intuitive. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Songs in my head: Bob Seger; Against the Wind. Grand Funk Railroad; We're and American Band. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">(note that the recent days artist are all purposefully from Michigan). </span>Boydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129584376762381650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519243614774181541.post-61479115105524975432015-08-23T19:53:00.002-07:002015-08-24T01:09:52.501-07:00Day 38. Leroy, MI to Midland, MIFirst light of the day was a little after 6am, with the official sunrise about 6:50. Unrolling out of the tent with my headlamp on, I fix a cup of coffee in the JetBoil. Folgers instant packs of black silk have been aromatic and a good way to start the day on damp cool camp mornings. Normally, it takes about 45 minutes or so to break camp, including the coffee and oatmeal prepared separately on the same JetBoil. Usually I sip the coffee as I pack away the sleeping bag, sleep ma,t and tent. Then make the oatmeal, find a place to sit and eat it. Preferably at the picnic table in most camps. After I clean up, a little maintanence prep for myself and my bike is all that remains before I hit the proverbial trail. I left the campsite a little after 7am and cycled back out of the area, across the road and down the hill to the namesack of the campground, Sunrise Lake, to indeed see if the sun rose out of the lake. It would appear to be true. <br />
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The route is about 77 miles to Midland, MI with the rain and headwinds of 12-14 mph out of the SE prepared to be my main foe. The terrain, is my friend however, as it falls gently away for a gradual overall downhill run. I am also aided by the last 30 miles as I travel over the Pere-Marquette Rail Trail that is closely shrouded by trees to break much of the wind. My friends more that mitigate the headwinds and together we make relative easy work of the course.<br />
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The morning actually starts out crystal clear for the first few hours, but about 10am, the first wave of clouds cast a literal foreshadow of the pending rain. In another victory over the days foe, I fortunately avoided the heavy rain. I made Midland just as the storm started in earnest. <br />
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It should be noted that for the days in Wisconsin, I was bombarded with the green and gold "G" of the Green Bay Packers, especially as I made my way further East. Since crossing over into Michigan, they have been replaced by the pristine gothic white "D" of the beloved Detroit Tigers. (Yes, I know they are different sports, I am just reporting the news). Being in Michigan, it is refreshing to commiserate with some of the locals on the recently over-priced, under-achieving Tigers. Quickly, some of the talk moves to UM and Lion football, which I care little about. I tried to steer one conversation toward hockey to throw down a little thunder and Lightning on the Red Wings, as it were, but I could not get anyone to bite. I will find a worth adversary that is willing to drop the puck before I leave this great State.<br />
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Speaking of adversaries, I did have a rare confrontation today. As I was pulling into a general store in Sanford to get a Lunchable and water, I pedaled through the parking area and settled my bike into the bike rack at front of the store. A young fellow in a truck started yelling at me for cycling through the lot. He was using some choice words and barking at me because he "nearly hit me". One would have thought if he had "nearly hit me", I would have been the one that was upset. Since he did not come close to hitting me, more precisely since he truck was not moving, I was not at all bothered. I attemped to encourage him to control himself and improve his language, especially in front of younger children. He did not appreciate my suggestion, or perhaps simply wanted to get closer to hear what I said and got out of his truck and stomped toward me. I simply looked at him (Hillary, you know it) and waited for his parting shot...."just go ride your little bike"... before I turned and walked in the store. Inside the proprietor apologized for his actions. Another couple came up to me, exclaiming disgust for how I was treated and then chatted with me for several minutes about the tour and raising money for AFI. I must tell you, the latter as been what I have experienced most. From the Cajun who fed me at the campsite on day three; to the lady in Montana who pulled over to check on me and ask me if I had enough water; to the road worker who saw me struggle up a steep grade and purposedfully pulled out a cold water bottle from his truck and handed it to me as I passed; to the saint who pulled over in Washington and turned on his light to escort me through the tunnels, to the bike shop owner who offered for me to sleep in a trailer to get out of the pending rain; to the cafe owner who offered a me use of a shower; there have been many generous and thoughtful people. Oh, there have been the few who like to squeeze by as close a possible, since they cannot be bothered to slightly adjust their steering wheels, only to purposefully blast the diesel smoke in your face as they roar away. Even so, in one such circumstance, the very next driver slowed to apologize for the "idiot" and ask if they could help me at all. Just them slowing down, was help enough.<br />
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Moose Search: 0 -- but still vigilant<br />
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Tomorrow is Otter Lake, MI<br />
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Song in my head: John Lee Hooker; Boom! Boom!<br />
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<br />Boydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129584376762381650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519243614774181541.post-64233700877263751682015-08-22T20:36:00.000-07:002015-08-22T20:36:10.931-07:00Day 37. Ludington, MI to Leroy, MI<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">The light day and the ferry ride yesterday were a welcome change and I truly enjoyed the boat trip. However, I was hoping I would feel more rested than I did when I retired for the night. My legs felt like they were full of a couple of thousand miles and were not as fresh after a light day as they had been. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Ludington was quite a nice town, with active farmers markets and active Main Street on a Friday night. Just beyond the restaurants were lines of several old historical homes, many that had been converted to Bed and Breakfast. Further down the road was an Inn that I stayed in for the evening. Ola Kvalaag, originally, was the Innkeeper that greeted me and showed me to my room. There are scant few things on this trip where my wife would want to join me. This would be one of them. Charming and cozy are words that spring to mind and certainly well beyond the campgrounds, recently. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Ola allowed me to put my bicycle in the garage and informed me that breakfast in the morning is typically served at 9 am, but there will be some fruit, cereal, coffee and juices out by 7am. He showed me to my room as we creaked our way up the wooden stairs. There were other guests and no one could come and go quietly. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEhy9Y7M5r5eisjAp2LXeP05-mhfeqFnzBLgRCVP4Wv7Ef_CXgB8jhB9qwKAk3dSOz7aX_TlxvkvflMAc-_OqHO9hPOjqc_AEm2duOZZ0O81nFwpViX62EXnpZ_8qhqu_D1rkgNsAT9hc/s1600/IMG_0946.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEhy9Y7M5r5eisjAp2LXeP05-mhfeqFnzBLgRCVP4Wv7Ef_CXgB8jhB9qwKAk3dSOz7aX_TlxvkvflMAc-_OqHO9hPOjqc_AEm2duOZZ0O81nFwpViX62EXnpZ_8qhqu_D1rkgNsAT9hc/s320/IMG_0946.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">After a restful night, breakfast was indeed ready to go as I heard them and smelled it early. The "pre-breakfast" assortment consisted of fruit dishes, blueberry muffins, cinnamon rolls, fresh homemade bread (mmm), Ola's grandfather's </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">oatmeal recipe that had to be seen and tasted. Along with juices, coffee and tea. Oh yeah, there were small plates of eggs and bacon, before breakfast. I literally stuffed myself and decided to rest a bit longer, simply for my legs that I was whining about, of course. Not because of the accommodations. Nope. Not at all. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">The route today was literally on a designated US bike route. Much of it was bike lanes on the road, but most of it was just the regular county roads. It is great that there is work done on designated bike routes. Many cyclist out this morning using the route and one such group came at me and gave a raucous cheer of encouragement. It worked. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">After about 18 miles outside the town, the woods and forest turned angry. There were signs literally on every third tree or so warning of no trespassing and keep out. Some were of the mass produced signs, others on old siding and plywood were hand spray painted in red the same succinct warnings. The latter certainly gave the feeling that more severe consequences would befall those that crossed the warning signs, perhaps beyond what the law allowed. Trust me, I did not venture off the road. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">The ride was good and my legs did feel better with the rest, after all. The scenes were not spectacular, as the more majestic farms and homesteads of the previous day were replaced by simply a more rural setting near the woods. It was a beautiful day for riding however and that is what I did, simply enjoyed the bike ride. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">There always seem to be a peculiar event each day. Today a Harrier swooped down the trees, turned in front of me and escorted me for a hundred yards or so before flying up into a leafless, dead tree and stared back at me as if to say, the coast is clear. Have a good ride. It was not the first time a bird had flown along with me. I have had a killdeer fly sporadically with me for nearly a mile in North Dakota. Swooping back and forth in front of the road in a combination of running and flying fits and starts. One particular, peculiar Canadian goose did the floppy running attempted take off for several yards in front of me one day. Only to stop and start again a couple of times before taking off for good. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhibvFd8eBlTySz2OZnbRjOjxhfITe4Yqc8xKVvS-ju_cINg1K3VEhP1YHuqdolPNmqj7YkD2He4lMdihJpgvF-TlgEgrOvUHGZoOdyNtGb6F0WTQS4YNVFeF4MYVMTEvrgRTfBClblxzk/s1600/IMG_0948.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhibvFd8eBlTySz2OZnbRjOjxhfITe4Yqc8xKVvS-ju_cINg1K3VEhP1YHuqdolPNmqj7YkD2He4lMdihJpgvF-TlgEgrOvUHGZoOdyNtGb6F0WTQS4YNVFeF4MYVMTEvrgRTfBClblxzk/s320/IMG_0948.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">I reach my destination just outside of Leroy, MI. I am at the Sunrise Lake State park where it is as quiet as you could want. I showed myself to my tent site for the evening and explained to myself that Quaker Oats Instant Maple and Brown sugar oatmeal will be served from the Jerboil at around 6:30 or 7 in the morning for breakfast. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Moose Search: 0. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Kevin Conner, my friend, did some research and found out there were rare few moose in Wisconsin. They have spotted like 3, or something. He informed of this a few days ago. While yes that news was dispiriting, spotting one in Wisconsin would have even been more note worthy, so I charged on. Ah, to no avail, I of course did not see what did not exist. The moose that were spotted by others in Wisconsin were believed to have been from those in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan where there are hundreds of Moose. I am in Michigan now, so the search continues. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Tomorrow is off to Midland, MI. They are predicting rain tomorrow, so I will get the rain gear ready. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Song in my head. Smokey Robinson/Temptations: My Girl. </span>Boydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129584376762381650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519243614774181541.post-89966067139705020822015-08-22T19:31:00.000-07:002015-08-22T19:31:25.407-07:00Day 36. SS Badger<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">The skies have indeed cleared and it is a beautiful day for a Friday bike ride. I have my typical oatmeal with PBnJ on tortilla breakfast and I am off. </span><br style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">The descent down the hill I climbed the day before is fun and fast. If only I still had those 10 logs strapped to the back, it would have been even faster, if not dangerously unstable. </span><br style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">A beautiful morning for riding. Light breezes, warmer temps (68 degrees and rising) and short ride will make it nice. The ride itself is uneventful. That is not to say that it did not have great scenes and birds escorting me along the way. It was however, very similar to the previous days. Small and large farms, mostly dairy were stretched along the county roads. The one issue that has come up several times, but especially on this route today, is that on the back roads they do not always take the time or effort to "sign" the roads. There will be an intersection about the mileage I think I should turn, but there are no signs. I guess if you are local, you know what road it is. Not helpful to us. When I have cell service, I pull out google maps and confirm. When I don't have cell service, I trust my count and turn. It has not been an issue, just one of those things to take your time to get right. "Measure twice, cut once", as it were. Not fun to add mileage to the route because of misread map. </span><br style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">A little over 40 miles I reach the port for the ferry I am to take today, the SS Badger. The notes I ready said it is 10-15 degrees colder on the water. What I was amazed by was that that cold water breeze hit me the instant I turned up the shore to the port. We know Lake Michigan is big, but it did have an ocean feel to it when you look at the watery expanse in front of you, including the whitecaps. </span><br style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">The boat is listed on the national historic registry, I note as I leave my bike in the undercarriage and head up on deck. They have a few buffets type places for lunch. A TV viewing area, quiet lounging sections, patio tables and a few lounge chairs around the bow. They even have a small movies room where they showed two selections on the trip. They coordinated some trivia games in one of the table sitting areas and allowed you to spend money in a gift shop, if so desired. The sailing was smooth with enough whitecaps to give the water texture. The breezes were cool and refreshing, as the predicted. I spend my time enjoying the relaxation. After 4 hours we dock in Ludington where there are boatloads of fisherman and quite the crowd waving and welcoming the ship. It was a fun and fantastic diversion, as I had hoped it would. </span><br style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">I am now in Michigan and the Eastern Time Zone. I must be getting close. </span><br style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;" /><br style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;" /><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Today song in the head: Gordon Lightfoot; The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald. </span>Boydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129584376762381650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519243614774181541.post-58589747050314006562015-08-20T23:28:00.000-07:002015-08-20T23:28:31.636-07:00Day 35. Shawano, WI to Sherwood, WI<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">The concept of the weather "clearing" I must not have understood. The winds are strong again, today from the west. I would normally be joyous, but I am traveling south today. I do get about 23 miles with the wind and it was like being pushed along. The major rain has stopped, but the dark, heavy overcast clouds keep drizzling rain periodically. Not enough to put on rain gear, as it is usually brief. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">I mostly travel today by small farms, many of which are dairy farms, mostly up wind it would appear. The crops are becoming more diverse with varieties of beans and cabbage to go with the corn. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">The homes on the farms and in the smaller communities and towns run the gamut, as you would expect. Many however, have manicured lawns and robust flower gardens to take advantage of the short season. Often there are displays of old farm equipment that adorn the lawn. With the houses surrounded by fields, barns and silos, they are picturesque. Even the ones that struggle against weather and decay grab ones interest, perhaps even more so. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">The ride is short and encouraged from the day before, I take another short off-road river trail for about a mile that parallels the route. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">I am camping tonight at High Cliff state park. It is a beautiful place, and as the name indicates, is on a high cliff overlooking Lake Winnebago. There lake is very large and there are moored sailboats in the marina. I check in at the station. (I do still get a kick out of the looks I get when I pull up on a bicycle next to these large RVs.). There is firewood for purchase and I buy a cord and load it on my bike as she tells me the campsite is a mile or two away from the station. I don't want to make two trips, so I load it up. I have hauled wood like this previously on the trip, so I know how to strap it across my rear panniers. It is a sight to see, but effective. It was good of her to tell me it was so far to my site, it would have been better if she told me there were two steep climbs. I had turned off my Strava that records my heart rate by this time, but I can tell you my lungs, legs, and heart rate were screaming when I cleared the steepest one. Just before I reached the first climb, a pair of cyclist came flying around the corner, one making an "oh boy" comment, knowing what was in front of me. "Oh boy" was right. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLwTU09IaqFp6dLs7T3MPeyYrbBKrevzQ73zq27XG0fkaMl2PPiu7Jw_cud9QlfKXg__BMI4OqA0nIb3ACZr46levO3Jyqev-94GLdAtG14OxnyaCi7k9YTkpFXNWK6Y0su2RTwmC91eg/s1600/IMG_0937.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLwTU09IaqFp6dLs7T3MPeyYrbBKrevzQ73zq27XG0fkaMl2PPiu7Jw_cud9QlfKXg__BMI4OqA0nIb3ACZr46levO3Jyqev-94GLdAtG14OxnyaCi7k9YTkpFXNWK6Y0su2RTwmC91eg/s320/IMG_0937.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">I am sure I entertained everyone that saw me, but I made it. Oh yeah, did I mention that it had been spitting rain. At this point, I cared not, I was going to burn that wood and enjoy a campfire for the night. I am happy to report that at this writing, the skies had cleared, the sun broke through for a beautiful sunset, and my fire is burning hot. It did take a lot of effort to get it going strong, but it was worth it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Friday is a big day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">First, it is a short ride to Manitowoc to catch a ferry across Lake Michigan. Part of the reason I chose this route was to take this ferry. Should be fun. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Also, it AFI Burger 21 day. Stop by Burger 21 for some tasty burgers and shakes and they will donate 10% of proceeds to AFI. Try the bananas foster shake. My wife and I have made the mistake of getting one to "share". It just ends poorly in a spoon fight, but it is good. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">Lastly, but wonderfully, my daughter starts her flight home from South Africa, where she cares for orphaned Rhinos. She will get to see her mother on Saturday when she lands. Excited. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">I am not using Pandora, as previously mentioned, but I do have voices and songs in my head. Today is a little James Taylor: Fire and Rain and Peter Gabriel: Red Rain.</span>Boydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11129584376762381650noreply@blogger.com0