Peaceful (Sept. 27, 2013)

The riding the past few days has been along the Erie Barge Canal (current navigable route) or along the original Erie Canal.  Both routes provide a care-free way to end a bike tour.  Riding to the hotel in Syracuse was not so peaceful, but that part of the ride was short and direct.

About eight weeks ago, Kim and I left Minneapolis heading east.  We rode through some amazingly beautiful areas ... areas that I had not experienced before.  Having lived almost my entire life in the desert areas of Arizona, constant green is not something I am used to.  Naturally occurring lakes are not something I am used to.  200 year-old structures and villages (without stop lights) I am not used to.  Highly repetitive steep ups-and-downs ... etc., etc., etc.  Many new experiences; many new memories.  Several new insights into the history of North America have been absorbed.

And so this bike tour is now over.  All that is left is to ship bike and panniers back to Tucson, and fly home tomorrow.  Back to Tucson.  Back to the place that is home.  Back to normal living again.  Back to friends.  Back ...

I am ready to be home.  The touring this summer has been good, but it does get to be tiresome sometimes not having a routine, not having familiar vistas, not being able to drive.  I love touring, but I also love Tucson.

Have I thought of any future touring plans?  Nope, don't have anything in mind at the moment.  May even take next summer off from touring and do something else.  I am lucky in that I have several friends who will be touring, so I can follow their travels via their journals (as I am following Sandy and Mark Doumas on their cross-country tour).  It is definitely easier to read about long climbs and 35 degree mornings than it is to experience it in real life.  Safe travels, Sandy and Mark.

So a true feeling of peacefulness has come over me.  I am happy with the touring completed, happy with having experienced new places, happy to be coming home.

A Joyous Day of Rest (Sept. 23, 2013)

On these long bike treks, there are "rest days" and there are "joyous days of rest".  Yesterday I enjoyed one of the latter ... a very enjoyable day of rest.

This morning I will again be loading up the bike ...  heading the 50 miles south to Amsterdam, NY.  I arrived in Queensbury, NY Saturday afternoon after an extended number of days of riding after the last rest day in Bar Harbor ... Bar Harbor to Searsport to Augusta to Lewiston (all in Maine) to Conway to Lincoln to Hanover (all New Hampshire) to Rutland, VT and finally Queensbury ... right at 400 miles total.  For the most part, the days were quite nice for riding (weather wise), and with a few notable exceptions there was a minimum of hard climbing involved (but those exceptions were long and difficult).  The final 30 miles into Queensbury were into a ferocious head wind (15 to 20 mph winds).  The rest day was earned.

Yesterday, Nancy McCarthy drove up from her home in Western Massachusetts for a quick visit.  Nancy is a long-time friend from back in college days in Tempe.  There is a lot to be said for long-time friends.  We spent a wonderful day in-and-around Lake George Village.  Our conversation was the type of conversation one has with a friend you have not seen for a great while.  On a side note, beyond the joy of spending time with Nancy, I felt great liberation in riding in her car.  Lake George Village is only about 7 miles from Queensbury, but I would never think about riding my bike over on a side trip.  Included in our day was a drive up a 5 mile long road (up is not so hard in a car) to an observation spot for a view of the entire area.  Riding in the passenger seat was effortless as compared to riding on my bike ... but of course the ride back down was not as much fun.

When biking, one's sense of travel time becomes very distorted.  If I were to ride my bike down to Nancy's home, it would take a very long day ... driving took her about an hour and a half.  I long for my truck in Tucson.

 So today I start the last leg of this two month trek ... four days of relatively easy distances and terrain.  In Amsterdam I will pick up the Erie Canal tow path into Syracuse ... tow path = level.

Should be a good week ... good way to finish up.


Quite a Grind (Sept. 19, 2013)

Put the chain on the granny gear and the large cog and just sit there and grind ... and sit there and grind ... and sit there and grind ... endlessly.

Even though Kancamagus Pass is only at an elevaton of 2855', you have to climb about 2300' to get to the Pass.  After leaving Conway, NH, there is roughly 10 miles of 4% climb which, while not easy is not at all hard ... just find an easy cadence and ride.  Beautiful day ... sky is blue and little or no wind.  While most of the leaves are still green, there are patches of gold and red, and the small river running along the road adds very pleasant visuals.

Life is good and then life turns hard (as did the saddle in the later stages of the coming climb).

After that hour-and-a-half of 4% climb, the road took a noticeable turn upward ... my guess is 7%.  Twelve miles to the pass.  Again it is a beautiful day, but the climbing tends to be distracting.  Three to four miles an hour ... you do the math.  But much unlike the climbing of the past few weeks ... short ups-and-downs ... there is a certain serenity in doing one of these long climbs.  You fall into a cadence rhythm that allows you to push ahead without becoming physically uncomfortable (other than the hardness of the saddle toward the end ... pun intended).  As with most people, I have an ego.  One of my prides is that at my age I am capable of doing what I have been doing for the past seven weeks ... and yesterday's climb has bolstered my self-pride.  It is a quiet pride, but a pride none-the-less.

In the picture above, down the road there is the ever popular "down-hill" caution sign ... 9% for the next 3 1/2 miles.  Very nice reward.

After descending the west side of the Pass for about 8 miles, I stopped to talk with a young couple who were heading east to Bar Harbor ... four days away from completing their cross-country ride.  We had a joyful conversation and talked of things Southwest (they were from San Diego).  They asked about the coming climb they were about to take on ... I just smiled and asked if the granny gears/big cogs were functional on their bikes.  Smiles all around.

Another week and the riding will be completed and I will be in Syracuse, NY.  Mileage for this trip at this point is just over 2300 miles (Lincoln, NH).  And Bill, even though the leaves are not meeting my demands, the visuals are stunning.  There are a few trees that have been considerate enough to alter the color of their leaves, which gives me a glimpse of things to come.  Many former New Englanders had said "middle of October" for the prime time, so the trees not providing me with my needs is my own (scheduling) fault.

Today looks to be another beautiful day ... and the nights are bright due to the Harvest Moon.  60 miles to the next stop.  Tires are pumped up and chain is lubed ... should be a good day.

If, like me ... (Sept 16, 2013)

If, like me, you are still a 10 year-old boy when it comes to certain topics ...

The name of this river near Belfast, Maine, is pronounced (tee hee):  pass-a-gas-a-wau-keyg

Fart jokes get me every time ... snicker, snicker.

Smooth Sailing (Sept 16, 2013)

There are times, when riding, that it all seems to be too easy.  Beautiful day, no wind to speak of, low level of traffic ... and a recently paved roadway. Add to that a smug feeling of fitness, and you have a sense of smooth sailing.

Yesterday's ride from Searsport to Augusta, Maine provided me with that sense.  Yes there were climbs of the nature discussed in a previous post, but nowhere as unrelenting as previous days.  The 54 miles into Augusta were blessed by blue skies and a sense of progress moving toward Syracuse.

Two days ago Kim and I left Bar Harbor and rode to Searsport.  Again, it was a good day of riding ... just under 50 miles with some repetitive climbs (but not depressingly so).  The rest day in Bar Harbor was enjoyable and relaxing.  We again boarded a tour bus for a two hour tour around the Bar Harbor/Acadia National Park area.  The day was overcast, rainy and the island was cloaked by fog.  The tour guide/bus driver pointed out many, many beautiful sights that we could have seen if the fog had not been shrouding it all.  It was a good informative tour none-the-less.

Back in the 1890-to-1920 era, Bar Harbor was a summer home for many of the super rich ... Rockefeller, Aster, Mellon, etc., etc., etc.  These folks built summer "cottages" that were astounding in size and design.  I have to wonder just how much money those people had that they could build such large homes at so many different locations around the country.  Anyway, putting financial envy aside, the tour was enjoyable and the day spent browsing around town was very nice.

Kim and I said our good byes yesterday, and are each heading to our respective airports.  It has been said by me before, but I will say it again ... it is hard to say good-bye not knowing when we will see each other again.  This ride has been a good ride ... I miss Kim already.

Today's ride to Lewiston, Maine will be an easy day of about 30 miles ... however, the blue skies are not visible and the rain is falling.

Oh well, take the bad with the good.  

Up and Down (Sept. 13, 2013)

Twenty minutes up ... two minutes down ... repeat endlessly.  Endlessly I say ... endlessly.  Crest the current climb only to see the next climb ... endlessly.

Ah, New England, you are so very wrinkled.

Since reentering the United States, this pattern of riding has been a daily occurrence.  While the climbs are not overly long, they are overly repetitive ... endlessly repetitive.

And listening to Kim, who just rode from upstate New York to here in Bar Harbor, my next two weeks riding from Bar Harbor to Syracuse offers more of the same.  Endlessly.

Kim and I met up yesterday in Bar Harbor, Maine, and are taking a rest day to explore and rest.  We have a bus tour scheduled for this morning, then plan to take it easy for the rest of the day.  Beautiful area here in Bar Harbor ... my first glimpse of the Atlantic Ocean on this outing.  Weather calls for rain today, and it is overcast and quite humid.  I have tasted the food of this area ... crab and lobster ... still looking forward to sitting down in Tucson to chips, salsa and chicken enchiladas ... "looking forward to" does not really convey the yearning, but will have to suffice.

Getting back together with Kim, even if it is for only a few days is wonderful.  Touring alone has a few positives, but being able to share time with a good friend is very nice.  Saturday we will be heading out for a few days of riding together, then we part ways again ... she to Portland, Maine and me to Syracuse, NY.  (Just in case you have forgotten ... from what Kim said, the ups-and-downs are even more unrelenting where I am headed ... oh, joy.)

Two weeks ... twenty minutes up ... two minutes down ... repeat endlessly.  Endlessly I say ... endlessly.  Crest the current climb only to see the next climb ... endlessly.

But home awaits ...

The End is Nearing (Sept. 9, 2013)

I have discovered on my various rides that once I finalize my "end of ride" plans, that I tend to focus on putting in the miles as opposed to focusing on the views and the joys of the moment.  Thoughts of things to do once I return to Tucson tend to dominate.  Riding schedules become more important and rigid.  Structure tends to rule as opposed to spontaneity.

While riding the three days between Montreal and Quebec City, I began the process of thinking about when, where and how I was to finish the ride.  I knew I did not want to fly back to Tucson until the last days of September, so I needed to lay out the number of days I had left to ride ... and follow that with mileage to various finish locations.  I will be using airline points to get my return ticket, so I needed to finish at a location from which American Airlines flies.  I want to ship my bike via Amtrak, so that is a consideration as well.  So after evaluating all of these factors, I have decided to end this ride in Syracuse, NY.

I had planned on spending a day in Quebec City doing the tourist thing, but having just done the tourist thing in Montreal, I was not overly excited.  Throw in my discomfort with not speaking French (I was able to communicate, but it was getting tiresome), and I decided to head for the border and get back to the English speaking country that I love.

That first day out of Quebec City was a long  ride of  73 miles.  I rode through maybe 15 villages and town that were named for some Saint or another ... Beautiful church structures built around the 1890's ... it is clear that religion played a big part in the settlement of Quebec Province.  After riding through all of these Saint Whatever towns, it was quite refreshing to come to a town by the name of "Scott".

I am now in Bingham, Maine, heading toward Bar Harbor.  Kim and I will be meeting up in Bar Harbor for a few days, then she will head to Portland and I to Syracuse.  I had thought that by now I would be "scenic views" immune, but I must say the views here in Northern Maine are incredible.  Some leaves are beginning to change the color from a deep green to a lighter shade of green, and some leaves are already turning to rust colors. 

One of the main factors in causing the color changes is temperature ... as the temps get colder, the leaves lose the green hues.  It was 39 degrees upon waking this morning.  I have been wearing arm warmers, knee warmers, gloves, wool socks and wind vest for the past several days while riding.

The end is nearing, and I am looking forward to getting back to Tucson ... but I still have about two and a half weeks here in New England.  Lots of new scenery to see, lots of time to think about the coming year in Tucson.  For right now, 'tis time to load the bike and get back out on the road.

Montreal (Sept. 3, 2013)

I am a lucky guy.  In recent days I have had the opportunity to experience three things that I truly enjoy.

The first item, naturally, is getting to experience the joys of bike touring.  I was thinking the other day while riding into Montreal that it is extraordinary that I was riding into Montreal.  Twelve years ago when I first started riding in a reasonably serious manner, I told myself that one of the reasons for riding was to go on bike rides while on vacation.  Little did I anticipate what a vacation retirement can be, nor where my rides would take me.

The second aspect of my life that I enjoy greatly is relatively new.  A couple of years ago I stumbled on to a group in Tucson by the name of Living Streets Alliance (LSA).  LSA's mission is to improve transportation-related infrastructure, in Tucson/Pima County, for pedestrians and cyclist.  Being a volunteer with this group has opened a world that I am passionate about.  Seeing what other cities/towns are doing for cyclist has brought great joy to my bike touring.  The adjacent photo is of one of the many separated bike lanes/routes that are very common here in Montreal.  Bike share (short-term rentals) is very prevalent also, with many rental stations scattered around the city.  The last 20 miles of my ride into Montreal, this past Sunday, was on bike paths and roads along the lake shore.  My guess is that there were between 1000 and 1500 cyclist out on this route.  Very enjoyable.

Now, to the third item of enjoyment.  Yesterday I took the "double-decker" bus tour of Montreal.  Very good way to see the primary tourist spots of any large city.  After the two-hour tour I returned to the Pointe-a-Calliere History Museum.  While I had hoped to be able to learn more about the lead-up to the War of 1812 (British history is not a thing of pride in this area), there were some very informative displays of how the City of Montreal developed from the time of the early fur traders up to present day.  But, for me, the highlight of my visit to the museum was yet to be seen/heard.

As a high schooler in the mid-60s, there was an invasion that had a great impact on even a naive kid living a naive life in Scottsdale, AZ.  The Beatles!!!  Even though I am a Medicare/AARP card-carrying member of society, the music and history of The Beatles brings much joy into my heart.  I imagine when my sons get to be my age they will no doubt experience similar joy when they see a retrospective of the works of Vanilla Ice.

It is time to head off toward Quebec City ... three days of riding along Route Verte #5.  My fear of all things French has dissipated to a great degree.  I have found that most of the locals that I have interacted with speak both French and English ... and I have not experienced any of the reported "rudeness" that is so often reported.  Lovely city ... I am glad I made the decision to come this way.  By the way, Kim is having a wonderful ride over in the Lake Placid area ... if you so desire, you can follow her ride at Biking with the Tailwind.

So, it is time to load up the bike and head to Quebec City, then to Bar Harbor, Maine.

As I say, I am a lucky guy.  

Sacre Bleu (Sept. 1, 2013)

Riding along easily after leaving Cornwall, Ontario ... nice roads and reasonably nice weather (no rain as I had anticipated).  Just rolling along and feeling good about this new adventure.  The wonderful Waterfront Trail was to end at the Ontario/Quebec border, and the Route Verte bike trail was to begin ... I plan to follow this trail to Montreal and Quebec City.  Life is good.

Crossed into Quebec Province ... feels like I crossed the Atlantic Ocean!!  Where as in Ontario signs and such were in English and French, in Quebec Province everything is in French.  The inhabitants look like normal people, but the sounds coming out of their mouths are just that ... sounds.

After Patricia and Steve's presentation at the GABA (Tucson bike club) meeting concerning their bike tour to Asia, I made the comment to Patricia that I would feel very uncomfortable being in a place where I can not read the signs or speak the language.  Patricia indicated that my fears are due to my being "A GRINGO!!"  My few travels to non-English speaking countries has always been with someone who spoke the local language.  Sacre Bleu ...

To say I was uncomfortable is a vast understatement.  I considered heading back to Cornwall/Toronto or making a run for the U.S. border.  Being in this state of abject fear, my usual less-than-reasonable thought processes went out the window ... or maybe over the handlebar as my bike has no window.

I eventually found my way to a town by the name of Salaberry-de-Vallyfield, and checked into one of the two hotels.  Delightful place, beautiful location.  The adjacent picture is the small bay across from the hotel.  I plan on riding into Montreal this afternoon and spend tomorrow experiencing the city.  Maybe my fears will ebb somewhat ... for now I just indicate that I do not speak French, and hope for the best.

Fear is a powerful force ... best that I face it ... although the United States is but a half-day's ride away.