64 Miles. Avg. 13.2MPH. Top Speed 34.2MPH
Total: 746.4
It's back to motel life tonight. I've been strengthening my psychological callouses over the past nine days or so and learning what I can accept. I have learnt that camping in the rain isn't for me. No shame in that right? To be clear, the motel I chose tonight is a bit of a dump, but then again, as the rain poured down earlier I would've gleefully paid for the Bates Motel, so not too much back patting here. Oh yes, the rivers did flow again today, but I didn't get frustrated, mind you, I just ploughed on through and still managed to complete the days projected journey, so it wasn't a total wimp out.
It was an odd day today, the climate and sky may have contributed to the feeling of gloom, but the towns I travelled through didn't help. There is a real feel of desolation everywhere once the Adirondacks finish and it isn't helped by the aggressive signs aimed at the government that seem to be on display all over in towns like West Leyden and Redfield. It's about as cosy as a night in a Ukrainian cave with only Tubular Bells on the iPod and Joseph Ratzinger for company and I'm looking forward to hitting Lake Ontario proper tomorrow where things should perk up. It's also worth noting an increase in patriotic symbolism in these more impoverished towns, I'm not sure what we can learn from the correlation between jingoism and poverty, but it certainly opens an interesting debate. Obviously gun law regulations are high on the agenda here and I can't help but feel it brings out the worst in people. The chest puffing and machismo it seems to ignite in some citizens is not something I feel comfortable in nodding along to. It's a macho enough culture as it is, what with the big trucks and excessive facial hair, but these things are relatively harmless until talk of weaponry is involved. But you can't change cultural values, and the cultural values around these parts are deeply engrained. I guess I'm just surprised (possibly naively) to be discovering it this side of the Mason-Dixon Line.
I took a break from the rain to have lunch in Orwell at about 12:30 and talked with the owner and the patrons - which seems to be the usual fayre in this nation - and despite there being a level of bitterness and disenfranchisement in their conversation they still maintain the hospitality of the New Englanders whose company I enjoyed so much.
You will see from the picture above, but I am in Amish country now. Oh yes, those of wooden barns and horse drawn carriages fame. I saw one go past the motel window a moment ago, but they move with surprising pace and I couldn't quite catch it with the camera before it disappeared from view. I wonder if they'd be up for a race? There's nothing in their rules about a little friendly competition is there? I say friendly, Black Betty would slaughter those other mares if necessary. No doubt leaving a bloody homicidal trail of claret in her wake. You all know what she's like by now, but her competitive streak is fearsome, destructive and strangely arousing, certainly to some of the handle-bar moustache wearing gang I alluded to earlier, no doubt.
Well, it's back to the old nudey bed thing from Bethel last week. Not for too long, though. I have another "warm shower" tomorrow night.
Screw it, I might throw that tent out. It smells like a frat boys sock that's been left to fester in a fish tank, anyway.
Total: 746.4
It's back to motel life tonight. I've been strengthening my psychological callouses over the past nine days or so and learning what I can accept. I have learnt that camping in the rain isn't for me. No shame in that right? To be clear, the motel I chose tonight is a bit of a dump, but then again, as the rain poured down earlier I would've gleefully paid for the Bates Motel, so not too much back patting here. Oh yes, the rivers did flow again today, but I didn't get frustrated, mind you, I just ploughed on through and still managed to complete the days projected journey, so it wasn't a total wimp out.
It was an odd day today, the climate and sky may have contributed to the feeling of gloom, but the towns I travelled through didn't help. There is a real feel of desolation everywhere once the Adirondacks finish and it isn't helped by the aggressive signs aimed at the government that seem to be on display all over in towns like West Leyden and Redfield. It's about as cosy as a night in a Ukrainian cave with only Tubular Bells on the iPod and Joseph Ratzinger for company and I'm looking forward to hitting Lake Ontario proper tomorrow where things should perk up. It's also worth noting an increase in patriotic symbolism in these more impoverished towns, I'm not sure what we can learn from the correlation between jingoism and poverty, but it certainly opens an interesting debate. Obviously gun law regulations are high on the agenda here and I can't help but feel it brings out the worst in people. The chest puffing and machismo it seems to ignite in some citizens is not something I feel comfortable in nodding along to. It's a macho enough culture as it is, what with the big trucks and excessive facial hair, but these things are relatively harmless until talk of weaponry is involved. But you can't change cultural values, and the cultural values around these parts are deeply engrained. I guess I'm just surprised (possibly naively) to be discovering it this side of the Mason-Dixon Line.
I took a break from the rain to have lunch in Orwell at about 12:30 and talked with the owner and the patrons - which seems to be the usual fayre in this nation - and despite there being a level of bitterness and disenfranchisement in their conversation they still maintain the hospitality of the New Englanders whose company I enjoyed so much.
You will see from the picture above, but I am in Amish country now. Oh yes, those of wooden barns and horse drawn carriages fame. I saw one go past the motel window a moment ago, but they move with surprising pace and I couldn't quite catch it with the camera before it disappeared from view. I wonder if they'd be up for a race? There's nothing in their rules about a little friendly competition is there? I say friendly, Black Betty would slaughter those other mares if necessary. No doubt leaving a bloody homicidal trail of claret in her wake. You all know what she's like by now, but her competitive streak is fearsome, destructive and strangely arousing, certainly to some of the handle-bar moustache wearing gang I alluded to earlier, no doubt.
Well, it's back to the old nudey bed thing from Bethel last week. Not for too long, though. I have another "warm shower" tomorrow night.
Screw it, I might throw that tent out. It smells like a frat boys sock that's been left to fester in a fish tank, anyway.
Cow orgy. Not so sacred now, are they.
Who says Americans don't get irony.
Boring School.
Gratuitous panorama
You see what i mean by aggression? Allow me to translate:
"keep out or cops will be called. God won't help you"
Terrifying.
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