When to Say When

I was too knackered after yesterday’s ride to  put pen to paper, so to speak, or, more literally, to put thumbs to my phone and tap out my daily missive.

It was a long day on the bike, but that was not the issue so much as I didn’t drink enough water, and didn’t stop enough to stretch. I just kept hammering away, ignoring the throbbing muscles in my neck and shoulders, because traffic was picking up, and I just wanted to be done.

In essence, yesterday was just one of those days of pedaling with few highlights. I thought I might get some great views of Lake Ontario, but the glimpses I did get revealed a vast body of water that under gray skies was less than inspiring and difficult to photograph with any sort of effect.

One of the highlights of the day, however, was seeing deer grazing in the fields. The first pair I saw gazed back at me, far enough away to feel no compunction to bound off into the forest. Then there was the young deer who loped along on the field beside me. I slowed right down, not wanting the deer to dash across the road in an effort to escape. Luckily it went in the other direction, finding some woods by a stream.

There was something about the first part of the route yesterday that left me uninspired. I felt like I was in boating and hunting country, neither of which spoke to me.

As I approached Oswego, the traffic really picked up, which I attributed to being close to the city, but which I learned was due to Super Dirt Week at Oswego Speedway,  meaning race track participants roaring around the track and town.

I got on the sidewalk as I navigated the strip, and then as I road through downtown, I was thrilled to the see a banner for donuts and to discover the most charming little shop, Heidi Ho Donuts. Heidi was busy packing up donuts for the farmers’ market, the last of the season, which was clearly a big deal, as I had seen signs on the outskirts of town for free shuttles to the market. She had been up since two (I asked of course) to  be ready to open for 7 am. She used to get up at 1, she said, so she could open for 6 am. Wanting to celebrate autumn, I chose two different pumpkin donuts, inhaling one immediately (they were just as good as they looked), and packing up the second one for later in the day.

From there, I had about 110 kms to go, which I

rode straight through, stopping only to switch up my water bottles. I should have stopped more to stretch, but there was nothing inspiring to photograph, and the closer I got to Webster, the busier the traffic got. I rode Route 104 for most of the day, and when I got on it originally, it had been a quiet road. By the time I got off at the exit for Webster, it was a four lane divided highway, but at least it had an incredibly wide shoulder, so I was far removed from the traffic, even if it was abrasive in volume.

What a relief to roll into Webster, and then to travel to West Webster on a road with a clear bike lane. By the time I found the Relax Inn, I was finished. Done. Knackered. But I changed and walked down the strip where less than a km away, I was into a mecca of stores, one of which, a wine and spirits store, offered individual cans of local ciders. Finally.

I also found a small restaurant, Bento-Ya, where I was able to get a great salmon teriyaki bento box.

With dinner in my possession, I went back to my room, which was newly renovated, and had the best dinner of the trip. After that the weariness of the day overwhelmed me, and I called it a day.

Waking this morning, I feel much more myself, and am looking forward to a shorter day, and to staying at a family owned place, where I have booked a cabin for the night.

I don’t always know when to say when, but as my friend Carrie Anne always says, today is another day, and thus there is always another opportunity to learn.

Full Speed Ahead

Having seen that the winds were going to rise throughout the morning, and that Watertown was predicted to get rain starting around 2, I was determined to get on the road as early as possible, and to ride at a good clip with a minimum of breaks. It was a very different than yesterday’s sedate pace, but I felt rested and strong.

The winds were calm when I began, and I benefited from a gradual net downhill, meaning I climbed 900 meters throughout the day, but descended about 1300 meters.

With the air so still in the morning, the fog lay heavily over the rivers and lakes, making for some spectacular views as I crossed Raquette River. It really was the highlight of the day, other than the fact that Route 3 is also an official bike route, so once again I had a nice wide shoulder, and almost no traffic.

Other than stopping a few time for supplies and bathroom breaks,  I flew along, until about 30 km outside of Watertown, when the wind started to kick up, and the first drops of rain fell.

I tucked down over the bars, and battled through the last hour. My final gauntlet was Watertown itself, as I rode from its eastern boundary right across to its western end, seeing the good, the bad, and the ugly in between. There were some beautiful old homes and some lovely buildings downtown, but there were also quite a few weary looking houses, and people. I pushed onward until I reached the strip where I saw the red Ramada sign shining through the darkening sky. How happy I was to arrive.

The lovely woman at the desk let me check in early, and I was soon showered and doing my laundry. That may seem like a banal task, but when you are travelling, the joy of clean clothing is much greater. While doing my laundry, I watched the downpour begin. It was brief and fierce, and it would not have been pleasant to navigate in it.

Once the rain stopped, I headed out to shop at the grocery store beside the hotel. I got some fresh pasta from the deli counter, and lots of treats for tomorrow, so I am all set. It is only 6:30, but already my eyes are feeling heavy.

Tomorrow will be a big 200 km ride to Webster, so once again, I will leave as soon as it is light, especially as I am going to have some wind with which to contend. For now, though, I am going to enjoy my pasta, and a bevy, and maybe enjoy a few reruns of MASH.

The Magical Donut Shop

Perhaps I go too far in calling a donut shop magical, but when you take a 1970s laundromat, complete with its usual sounds of clothing churning about in washing machines, or thumping away in dryers, and you tuck a little donut shop in the front, where a woman makes fresh donuts all day long and puts on the topping of your choice, well that is pretty wonderful. Some would say sublime.

I had read about this little gem of a place, and could not wait to arrive in Tupper Lake to discover it. I turned onto the main street, and there it was, right on the corner.

But I am getting ahead of myself. As short as the day was, it did take me four hours of riding to cover 80 km, thanks to almost 1000 meters of climbing. When I started out this morning, it felt like -1 degrees, so I bundled up with arm and leg warmers, anorak, toque and gloves. I was toasty warm on the descents, but not sweating on the climbs.

The clouds were hanging low over the nearby mountains when I began, but by the time I reached Long Lake, there was a little blue sky and sun shining through. As with many of the Finger Lakes, much of the shoreline is privately owned, so it was a challenge at times to find spots to take photos, but where there’s a woman there’s a way, and I found a laneway down to the edge of Long Lake.

Having cooled off while stopping, I pedalled feverishly up the next few climbs trying to shake off the chill. When I reached the outskirts of Tupper Lake, I was greeted with 4 miles of newly paved road with a wide, wide shoulder, allowing me to ride with abandon.

The next thing I knew I was downtown, my day of riding complete, with the rest of the day to putter and explore the town.

Well of course I lingered at the laundromat, which was nice and warm, and which offered a wonderful opportunity to people watch. The nun who arrived in her habit and running shoes was clearly a regular as Tina,  the donut shop owner, (yes I learned her name upon reading a great piece by NPR) greeted her warmly.

I learned that Tina has been making donuts for 34 years and her dad, who was there as well, owns the laundromat. In between her rolling quarters, we talked donuts and cycling, and then more customers arrived, so I departed and headed for the library. It was lovely with its view of the lake and high ceilings, and the librarian was very welcoming, asking if I needed any help.

I spent a few hours reading and people watching, especially when a grandmother my age brought in her two charges, and they ran about getting clues for some kind of treasure hunt. They then got to choose a prize from the treasure chest which the librarian opened on the large table I was sitting at. The grandson was quite cherubic, while his younger sister, all of three, was a little pixie who had endless questions for her grandmother. The grandmother realized only after the small chest had been opened what she had gotten herself into, as her precocious granddaughter picked up one prize after the next, asking what is this, what is this?  Grandma finally gave pixie a ten second window in which to choose a treasure, and she chose what her brother had chosen, a small plastic top that she tried to spin on the table. Turns out the old fashioned toys still have appeal, even when they are made out of cheap plastic.

With her new toy and her dolls grasped in her arms, she marched out the door, and I packed up my belongings to head to the Park motel. Well it sure isn’t The Lorca, but it is neat and tidy, with towels and shower products laid out on the bed for me.

Tomorrow I will head for Watertown, which will be a beefier ride of 150 km, so I will say my adieus and make myself a salad with all of the things I got at the farmer’s market right next to the motel.

Today was short on riding, but long on much needed conservation. I am grateful for my pumpkin spice glazed donut, but even moreso for the words exchanged throughout the day.