Day 52. Shoreham, VT to Royalton, VT

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. 

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.  

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.  

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.  

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%.  

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.  

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.  

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.  

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.  

Moose Search: 0. 

Song in my head:  The Proclaimers; I'm gonna be (500 Miles)

Day 51. North Creek, NY to Shoreham, VT

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.  

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.  

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.  

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.  

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.  

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.  

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,  the owners are fantastic.  He was born and raised in Manchester, so that certainly trumps my remote fandom of Tottenham.

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

Moose Search: 0. 

Song in my head:  Aerosmith; Back in the Saddle.

Day 50. Eighth Lake Campground, NY to North Creek, NY

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.  

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.  

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.  

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.  

The towns along the route 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.

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. 

Moose sighting:   0.  Although deer and turkey are still in abundance.  

Song in my head.  Dave Brubeck; Take Five

Day 49. Osceola, NY to Eighth Lake, NY

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.  

After coffee and oatmeal, I wait for the heavy morning fog to lift.   It is humid and there is no wind, so it has set in for quite a while.  After it somewhat of an impatient wait, it appeared to lighten enough, so I decide to pedal forth.  It takes me the next two hours to cover just 15 miles.  The fog had not lifted and is in fact thicker and heavier in patches along the way.  There is no shoulder on this road and although I have my flashing taillight and my yellow cycling vest on, I am afraid they do little to penetrate the density.  In fact, I hear some cars before I can finally see their headlights dimly emerge at what is essentially the last second.  I pedal slowly and every time I hear or think I hear a car I get off the road as far as I can. I am a bit unnerved by my mistake to leave and often hear cars that never transform.   Where the gravel edge of the road it rideable, I stay off the road as much as I can.  This has been a very bad choice.   The moisture is so heavy that my helmet is literally dripping wet and my arms and legs look like spiderwebs in the early morning dew.  Finally, the sun starts to break through the abyss and melt the fog.  About this time I come upon a small town where I plan to find a place to eat something and wait until it is crystal clear.  There is a small market up the road, so I get a bottle of milk and a snack and wait it out.  

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.  

(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). 

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.  

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.  

Tomorrow to North Creek, NY.  

Moose Search: 0

Song in my head:   Van Morrison; Into the Mystic

Day 48. Sterling, NY to Osceola, NY

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. 

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.  

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.  

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.  

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.  

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. 

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.  

Moose search:  zip

Music in my head:  The Band: Up on Cripple Creek.

Day 47. Rochester, NY to Sterling, NY

A good nights rest in Rochester allowed Brian and I to get started early on our quest to Sterling, NY.  

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. 

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.  

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. 

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.  

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.  

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.  

We turn in for the evening and prepare for Brian's last day.  

Moose Search: Nada

Song in my head:   Joe Cocker; a little help from my friends.  

Day 46. Niagara Falls, Canada to Rochester, NY

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.  

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.  

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. 

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.  

It is still a long day and we turn in early get some rest for the ride to Sterling the next day. 

Moose Search:   Real 0. Large fake carving 1.  

Music in my head:   The Allman Brothers Band; Ramblin' Man