82 Miles. Avg Speed. 14.2MPH. Top Speed 23.2MPH
Total 1,066.4 Miles
The incredible thing about this trip is that every day has the capacity to surprise. I awoke this morning in the casino destination of Niagara Falls, Canada and as I type, my tent is pitched in a secluded spot on top of a beach overlooking Lake Erie. Today was very much a solo day, I didn’t have any real interactions except from a few “Are you, or have you ever been a member of the Nazi party?” queries from US border control. Although, unlike the Canadians they did have a dedicated bike lane when passing over the border. Well done, America, well done, indeed.
The problem with some of these maps is that they can be a little intricate at times, and that combined with some confusing signage can lead to potential disasters. In this case, the potential disaster was a full on disaster for about three minutes when I unwittingly pedalled onto the Interstate. That’s a flipping fast motorway for those who don’t know. I was frozen in a state of panic on the hard shoulder waiting for a prime moment to play chicken and run over two lanes and return back up the ramp from whence I came. Well, I did make it, but I’ll be sure to be a little more diligent in my map reading next time I’m near a road that resembles race day at Silverstone, or should I say Daytona.
After a few standard wrong turns and my second puncture of the trip I arrived in my planned location of Point Breeze. I did shop around for some campgrounds, but again they were expensive, the best part of $30. I went to the nearest Indian Reservation for some supplies and it's a shame I don't smoke, because at these prices you'd be mad not to, tax free cigarettes are everywhere. That's what you get as a pay-off for years of persecution, I suppose. Well, on my return I found a police officer and asked him if I could pitch up by a beach, he said “go for it”, so that I did. As I type now I am overlooking a beautiful sunset on Lake Erie, and Dick Mauer, my neighbour in the house behind me is about to bring me a beer and some of his wife’s lasagne. The only problem is that I'm so hidden away I can hear some raunchy youths awkwardly getting jiggy with it about 15 feet from where I sit. Oh well, you get what you don't pay for, I guess.
Total 1,066.4 Miles
The incredible thing about this trip is that every day has the capacity to surprise. I awoke this morning in the casino destination of Niagara Falls, Canada and as I type, my tent is pitched in a secluded spot on top of a beach overlooking Lake Erie. Today was very much a solo day, I didn’t have any real interactions except from a few “Are you, or have you ever been a member of the Nazi party?” queries from US border control. Although, unlike the Canadians they did have a dedicated bike lane when passing over the border. Well done, America, well done, indeed.
The problem with some of these maps is that they can be a little intricate at times, and that combined with some confusing signage can lead to potential disasters. In this case, the potential disaster was a full on disaster for about three minutes when I unwittingly pedalled onto the Interstate. That’s a flipping fast motorway for those who don’t know. I was frozen in a state of panic on the hard shoulder waiting for a prime moment to play chicken and run over two lanes and return back up the ramp from whence I came. Well, I did make it, but I’ll be sure to be a little more diligent in my map reading next time I’m near a road that resembles race day at Silverstone, or should I say Daytona.
After a few standard wrong turns and my second puncture of the trip I arrived in my planned location of Point Breeze. I did shop around for some campgrounds, but again they were expensive, the best part of $30. I went to the nearest Indian Reservation for some supplies and it's a shame I don't smoke, because at these prices you'd be mad not to, tax free cigarettes are everywhere. That's what you get as a pay-off for years of persecution, I suppose. Well, on my return I found a police officer and asked him if I could pitch up by a beach, he said “go for it”, so that I did. As I type now I am overlooking a beautiful sunset on Lake Erie, and Dick Mauer, my neighbour in the house behind me is about to bring me a beer and some of his wife’s lasagne. The only problem is that I'm so hidden away I can hear some raunchy youths awkwardly getting jiggy with it about 15 feet from where I sit. Oh well, you get what you don't pay for, I guess.
Pirates, eh.
In Canada, they party to the MAX. Well, they did. This place was shut.
My first exposed stadia of the trip. I love exposed stadia.
A little taste of (near) home.
Romance for one.
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