78.5 Miles. Avg Speed 13.4MPH Top Speed 36.3MPH
Total 906.8 Miles
Asparagus picked this very morning by my wonderful host Carole was blended into my omelette for breakfast. What a way to start the day, huh. I must say I was overwhelmed by the hospitality of Jim and Carole. They said they host about 12 people a season, and the previous incumbent was in residence just 48 hours prior to me, so to show me such warmth was really considerate of them. I was on my way by 10 to head straight to the Erie Canal, but wait, what’s this I hear you say, James (Jim)? The very spot where Mormon founder Joseph Smith definitely, definitely discovered the golden plates with a words on it from the Lord himself is but two miles from the beginning of the canal path! Well, that deserves a detour. I pedalled with all the fervour of a missionary on the promise of a kiss from God when he got to the clams innards' gates.
When I arrived at the Sacred Grove (yes, Sacred Grove) I tossed Black Betty to the side like a rebound nightclub pick-up and made my way into the most sacred of sacred spots. The problem was it was like a maze in there. Meandering footpaths twisted and conjoined with no signposting to the actual point of revelation. The forest became a labyrinth with no exit. All this designed no doubt to keep the casual attendee in for as long as possible in order for them to “find God”. It nearly worked, as well, except an incredibly obese group of eight kept staring disapprovingly at my outfit, which made me feel very uncomfortable indeed. I did take off my helmet, but the cycling gear stayed on. The Lycra Cowboy doesn’t get changed for anyone. Not for Robert Mugabe, Jemima Khan and certainly not Joseph Smith Jr or a posse of Octo-chubs. I left after about 30 minutes and returned to the spurned BB. She looked at me for a moment as if to say she’d never forgive me. But my eyes told a different story, one of whimsy and a misplaced trust in golden plates and magic underwear. Never again will I be so foolish into discarding the one I love for a legend. She took it alright, to be honest. She likes the tough love aspect of our relationship.
Back to the canal path and although parts of the gravelly area were cutting my calves, it was pleasant overall. The sun came out at about 2 o’clock and it was plain sailing. I did have my first fall today, though. I slowed down behind an elderly gent and his dog and when I went to go around the mischievous wee pooch he moved in my direction causing me to rather embarrassingly crash at 3 miles per hour. The humanoid of the pair helped me up and we had some casual chat. I liked his hat. It said “UFO – Unfortunately Forgetful Octogenarian”. He still hadn’t lost his sense of humour, though, had he. Wacky old bugger.
So I continued along the towpath finishing the day in the town of Holley where I have set up camp for the night. My camping gear is a bit musty from the rainstorms, but it’s been balanced out as I’m set up for free (and with the blessing of the police) next to the canal and I have access to the showers in the morning. It’s a beautiful little town on the canal like so many are, with twee bridges and a very strong community vibe that I picked up after talking to some of the electorate outside a polling station. Plus the park here has a beautiful artificial waterfall powered by the canal.
Tomorrow I should hit the big waterfall, though. Oh yes, I mean she of the mist - Lady Niagara. Will probably pop over to Canada for some decent beer and mayonnaise, too.
Total 906.8 Miles
Asparagus picked this very morning by my wonderful host Carole was blended into my omelette for breakfast. What a way to start the day, huh. I must say I was overwhelmed by the hospitality of Jim and Carole. They said they host about 12 people a season, and the previous incumbent was in residence just 48 hours prior to me, so to show me such warmth was really considerate of them. I was on my way by 10 to head straight to the Erie Canal, but wait, what’s this I hear you say, James (Jim)? The very spot where Mormon founder Joseph Smith definitely, definitely discovered the golden plates with a words on it from the Lord himself is but two miles from the beginning of the canal path! Well, that deserves a detour. I pedalled with all the fervour of a missionary on the promise of a kiss from God when he got to the clams innards' gates.
When I arrived at the Sacred Grove (yes, Sacred Grove) I tossed Black Betty to the side like a rebound nightclub pick-up and made my way into the most sacred of sacred spots. The problem was it was like a maze in there. Meandering footpaths twisted and conjoined with no signposting to the actual point of revelation. The forest became a labyrinth with no exit. All this designed no doubt to keep the casual attendee in for as long as possible in order for them to “find God”. It nearly worked, as well, except an incredibly obese group of eight kept staring disapprovingly at my outfit, which made me feel very uncomfortable indeed. I did take off my helmet, but the cycling gear stayed on. The Lycra Cowboy doesn’t get changed for anyone. Not for Robert Mugabe, Jemima Khan and certainly not Joseph Smith Jr or a posse of Octo-chubs. I left after about 30 minutes and returned to the spurned BB. She looked at me for a moment as if to say she’d never forgive me. But my eyes told a different story, one of whimsy and a misplaced trust in golden plates and magic underwear. Never again will I be so foolish into discarding the one I love for a legend. She took it alright, to be honest. She likes the tough love aspect of our relationship.
Back to the canal path and although parts of the gravelly area were cutting my calves, it was pleasant overall. The sun came out at about 2 o’clock and it was plain sailing. I did have my first fall today, though. I slowed down behind an elderly gent and his dog and when I went to go around the mischievous wee pooch he moved in my direction causing me to rather embarrassingly crash at 3 miles per hour. The humanoid of the pair helped me up and we had some casual chat. I liked his hat. It said “UFO – Unfortunately Forgetful Octogenarian”. He still hadn’t lost his sense of humour, though, had he. Wacky old bugger.
So I continued along the towpath finishing the day in the town of Holley where I have set up camp for the night. My camping gear is a bit musty from the rainstorms, but it’s been balanced out as I’m set up for free (and with the blessing of the police) next to the canal and I have access to the showers in the morning. It’s a beautiful little town on the canal like so many are, with twee bridges and a very strong community vibe that I picked up after talking to some of the electorate outside a polling station. Plus the park here has a beautiful artificial waterfall powered by the canal.
Tomorrow I should hit the big waterfall, though. Oh yes, I mean she of the mist - Lady Niagara. Will probably pop over to Canada for some decent beer and mayonnaise, too.
You have my attention. Go on...
Oh, its just a forest.
The closest church to the sacred grove
Chocolate and Almond. Just as you recommended, Jim.
Pretty Bucksport. As pretty as can be.
Nice Bridge, mate.
Sunset from my room.
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