Finding Comfort in the Familiar

I’m not sure if any of you can relate to this, but as much as I love exploring new places, I find myself drawn to and seeking comfort in the familiar. For that reason, I was happy to see several Mennonite families out working in the fields early this morning, and was comforted by the signs warning drivers to slow down for buggies, even if it looked like the buggies were empty.

In Ithaca, I was thrilled to find a bakery and a running store just two blocks apart. My two favourite stops. The Ithaca Bakery has been a fixture for some thirty years, and it did not disappoint with its array of offerings from croissants to cookies the size of my helmet. I limited myself to a croissant with hazelnut filling: 8/10 on the croissant, I would say, but 10/10 on the filling, which was a perfect reward after the long climb out of Ithaca.

Did I mention it was another day of hills? The day began innocently enough with a gradual climb out of Penn Yan, and then rolled along consistently until a vertigonous descent into Watkins Glen at the southern tip of Seneca Lake. You know what a steep downhill into a place means. Unless you plan to stay forever, you will face a long climb out of it, and it was indeed a punchy climb, heading northeast to Ithaca.

As I approached Ithaca, I saw signs warning truck drivers to check their brakes. I checked mine as well, as my rear brake was squealing yesterday on a very, very steep pitch with a stop sign right at its base, meaning no opportunity to run out the hill. I thought I had burned through my brand new brake pads, but I think they had just overheated from the assault, as they were fine today.

I wish I could provide video of the ride into Ithaca, since it is such a pretty town, but I was on the brakes and taking every turn as tightly as I could, so there was no chance to get out the camera. Still I enjoyed seeing Cayuga Lake once I arrived.

As with Watkins Glen, descending into the town meant a long climb out of it, but I took quiet back roads all the way to Cortland, so I had no one roaring past me, and let’s face it, I am in Trump country where all too many people fly past in trucks with signs pledging to make America great again, or to take back America. Take it back where, I want to ask. To the dark ages?

As soon as I began chatting with the owner of the running store, I could tell he was a Democrat (he runs ultra trail races for goodness sake!) so I felt comfortable asking him about the upcoming election, and the workings of the Democrat party. I learned a great deal, but I can’t say I was any less demoralized after our chat. If anything, I was more struck by how polarized the country is, and how acrimonious people are towards each other when it comes to politics.

Still, it was too beautiful a day to stay deflated for long, so after purchasing a running shirt to remember Ithaca by, I got back on the bike and continued climbing. I am happy to report that my legs felt really good, even on the longer climbs, and I rolled into Cortland with lots of energy to spare.

I am staying at a family-owned motel that was built in 1961 and is now run by the grandchildren, though their 90 year-old mother still does the books. (She looks much older than you do, mum!) I was drawn to this place, as it reminded me of the motels I stayed in while crossing Canada back in the 80s.

The Main Street is under construction, so was a little short on charm, but I found a great restaurant, Wild Ginger Asian Fusion, where I got a pad thai dish big enough to  fuel me through my entire ride tomorrow.

As I write this, I am sitting on my bed covered with a lovely quilt, enjoying the fresh air through windows I can actually open. On the eve of Pumpkinfest, there is quite a buzz downtown; however, I fear I will be pedalling towards Syracuse before the festivities begin.

I have cycled past so many farm stands, with pumpkins piled high, or arranged from the diminutive to the gigantic, but it’s got to be just the right vibe for that perfect autumn photo. In other words, I guess it has to feel familiar.

So Many Lakes to Explore

My second day on the bike turned out to be a 200 km ride, and by the time I rolled into the campground, showered and hustled down to the shore to catch a glimmer of the sunset, I was too spent to write.

Thus, here I am at the end of day three, trying to recall the beginning of yesterday’s ride, which already seems so long ago. There is something about crossing the border that seems to expand a sense of time and space, when in reality, it took me a matter of minutes, maybe less, to ride across the Peace Bridge. The signage for pedestrians and cyclists is excellent, and the pedestrian walkway allowed me to ride at a distance from the traffic.

When I got to the customs office, I had to wait about 20 minutes for an officer to come on duty, but after asking me a few perfunctory questions I was on my way.

I thought navigating Buffalo might be dicey, but I got on the designated bike path, which separated from traffic, and though the views of the rather rundown looking buildings might not have been inspiring, I felt very safe.

Once I got on the Erie Canal Trail, which is part of the larger Empire State Trail, things started looking much better, and the further I got away from Buffalo and Tonawanda, the prettier the trail got. I would say the loveliest section I rode on was between Lockport and Rochester. I saw lots of wildlife, including dozens of herons, and I also saw some great old boats, chugging down the canal, their owners waving happily at me on the shore.

I was grateful for the trail as a means of circumnavigating Rochester, and I only had to endure its commuter traffic for a few kms before it thinned out, on the road heading south to Lake Conesus.

I finished the day flying along the lake’s west shore on a newly paved road; with the late afternoon light, it was my kind of perfection.

Arriving at the campground, I discovered it was situated on a steep hill across the road from the lake. When I say steep, I mean I pushed my bike up the hill to my charming cabin in the woods. The reality was I had the entire campground to myself, but for its owners. I didn’t mind the solitude, and felt safe knowing they were on site.

The temperatures dipped down to 8 degrees overnight; consequently, I was grateful for the heated cabin, and the microwave allowing me to boil water for coffee this morning.

After bundling up with a vest, arm sleeves, gloves and leg warmers, I rolled out into a sunny morning, and was greeted almost immediately with my first steep hill on a very quiet road. It was so quiet, that two deer stood in the middle of the road watching my laboured progress up. Alas they didn’t wait to greet me, but instead leapt off into the woods.

That hill was just one of many today. In fact, I was either climbing or descending for most of the ride, leaving me grateful that it was a “shorter” day.

Canadice Lake was the first lake I stopped at, and my favourite, as it was completely undeveloped due to being a water reservoir for Rochester.

The rest of the lakes I rode by were heavily developed. With most of the land being owned privately, it was difficult to find a spot to stop and take photos.

When I got to Canandaigua, I got on a rail trail that has been developed by Ontario Pathways, a local organization. I meandered along on it for a time, enjoying the sheltered path, but after a few miles I felt the need to pick up the pace, so I got back on the roads, and finished the day with a nice tailwind coming into Penn Yan.

After yesterday’s long ride, and today’s 1600 meters of climbing, I am ready for an early night. Already my eyes are starting to close.

Tomorrow I will explore the shorelines of Seneca and Cayuga lakes, and then head to Cortland, where I am staying at a nice family owned motel.

I am so grateful to be back exploring, and to be having such lovely weather in which to enjoy the fall colours.

Days Like This

Days Like This

In “Days Like This,” Van Morrison sings of times “when everything seems to fall in place like a flick of a switch;” that is how today felt.

My route from Guelph to Port Erie was largely on paved biked trails, starting with Burlington to Grimsby, along the lakeshore. Once I got to Grimsby, I rode up the escarpment (with a nice little section of 10% grade), and then zigzagged along quiet roads past beautiful farms and orchards. I took a rail trail into Welland, and then took the cycleway along the canal to Port Colborne. From Port Colborne to Fort Erie, I rode the friendship trail, which was pretty and peaceful—a great way to end the day.

Coming into Fort Erie, I only had to contend with the main road for a matter of blocks before turning up a back street to the Comfort Inn. The staff were friendly and welcoming, and they put me on the first floor to save me hiking my bike up the stairs since there is no elevator.

There is a Sobeys a few blocks away, offering not only great produce but a full selection of cider and wine. Got myself a nice cold cider to go with a salad and a great burrito from a Burrito place next store.

On most trips I have found the first day to be daunting, but perhaps because I started at my own doorstep, today felt easy. I also gained a great boost of confidence from the half marathon on Sunday, where I exceeded my goal by several minutes, and ran a steady pace from start to finish. That gave me a huge lift, as did the road trip with four great runners from Guelph.

As soon as it is light tomorrow, I will head for the Peace Bridge. The web site for the bridge offers very helpful instructions on how to navigate the bridge as a pedestrian or a cyclist, and there is a pedestrian walkway, which I plan to use. Of course I have gone over the instructions several times.

It is good to be a traveller once again; it feels familiar in a lovely way.