87.2 Miles. Avg 13.2MPH. Top Speed 37.6MPH
Total: 595.2 Miles
So a good nights sleep wasn’t exactly forthcoming last night and I have no one to blame but muggins. I was up all night and severely berating myself for opting to buy a cheap sleeping bag. I couldn’t stop sweating and then, in a fit of illogical rage after some semi-conscious dreaming I ripped the bag apart by the zip, desperate as I was for the minimal warmth it offered but without feeling like I was in a flexible sauna. Sleeping bag ruined. When morning eventually broke I looked down at my discarded poly-blend chrysalis to discover I’d had the bloody thing on inside out. No wonder I was sweating. The polyester should be on the outside. Oh well.
I stumbled around like Oliver Reed re-incarnate for a while trying to gain some grip on reality and I managed to settle down after a shower and a dose of Colombia’s finest. Coffee that is, and coffee that I brewed myself with the old propane canister. I really am getting used to this outdoor living vibe.
It was shaping up to be a beautiful day in the sky and on the ground with new landscapes to be discovered, but first thing’s first, I needed sustenance and fast. When you’re cycling this much four meals per day is the bare minimum. Problem was that I was out in the wilderness and diners and cafés weren’t as ubiquitous as they had been earlier on in the trip, I eventually found a private campground run by the excellently named Barbette to pick up some high-sugar snacks, not because I wanted them, just because that’s all that was on offer. We shot the breeze for the while, you know, as you do, and Barbette told me about her recent second knee replacement operation and I trivialised this by equating it to my ever-so-slightly aching 30 year old knees. What a dick.
After that ill-advised foray into empathy I made my way through the beautiful Adirondack National Forest. The landscape didn’t resemble what I had come to know so far, in fact, with the shadows cast by the hitherto hidden sun it was as if I were in a new country. This region mainly comprises of beautiful lakes and lots of them, and so I had my first contemplative stop of the entire trip at Paradox Lake today. I didn’t stop to think about anything in particular, but the sheer tranquillity of the view over the beach with the gentle rippling waves seemed to warrant my attention for ten minutes or so. (pic below)
I continued on with the day knowing I would be going 16 miles off route to stay with Jon and Linda tonight. They are the generous souls who would give me shelter for the evening after I enquired on warmshowers.org. It was a little hilly to get there, and I will admit I did let out my first “Fuck” as one corner turned into another, but I was soon there.
When I arrived the pair of them were recording music in their studio. Yes, that’s right. I had happened upon a pair of cool musos. Cue fear of inadequacy, especially when they asked me to put on some music to accompany dinner. I started off with some cool hipster shit, but that ruined the mood, so Daft Punk took its place. Safe bet. Embarrassment averted. Just. Phew. We chatted outside by the open fire and had a few local brews and it was the first time I had had a social occasion that was similar to one I might experience back home and for that I was truly grateful. They were a really great pair and it was a pleasure criticise (slag off) Rupert Murdoch and the Fox brigade with them. Every night must end, however, and as I settled into my bed for the night I realised just how much I had enjoyed conversing with like-minded souls. I’m eager for more of that, so America, don’t do you self a disservice by presenting me with reactionary tea-partiers from here on in. I need the stimulation.
Total: 595.2 Miles
So a good nights sleep wasn’t exactly forthcoming last night and I have no one to blame but muggins. I was up all night and severely berating myself for opting to buy a cheap sleeping bag. I couldn’t stop sweating and then, in a fit of illogical rage after some semi-conscious dreaming I ripped the bag apart by the zip, desperate as I was for the minimal warmth it offered but without feeling like I was in a flexible sauna. Sleeping bag ruined. When morning eventually broke I looked down at my discarded poly-blend chrysalis to discover I’d had the bloody thing on inside out. No wonder I was sweating. The polyester should be on the outside. Oh well.
I stumbled around like Oliver Reed re-incarnate for a while trying to gain some grip on reality and I managed to settle down after a shower and a dose of Colombia’s finest. Coffee that is, and coffee that I brewed myself with the old propane canister. I really am getting used to this outdoor living vibe.
It was shaping up to be a beautiful day in the sky and on the ground with new landscapes to be discovered, but first thing’s first, I needed sustenance and fast. When you’re cycling this much four meals per day is the bare minimum. Problem was that I was out in the wilderness and diners and cafés weren’t as ubiquitous as they had been earlier on in the trip, I eventually found a private campground run by the excellently named Barbette to pick up some high-sugar snacks, not because I wanted them, just because that’s all that was on offer. We shot the breeze for the while, you know, as you do, and Barbette told me about her recent second knee replacement operation and I trivialised this by equating it to my ever-so-slightly aching 30 year old knees. What a dick.
After that ill-advised foray into empathy I made my way through the beautiful Adirondack National Forest. The landscape didn’t resemble what I had come to know so far, in fact, with the shadows cast by the hitherto hidden sun it was as if I were in a new country. This region mainly comprises of beautiful lakes and lots of them, and so I had my first contemplative stop of the entire trip at Paradox Lake today. I didn’t stop to think about anything in particular, but the sheer tranquillity of the view over the beach with the gentle rippling waves seemed to warrant my attention for ten minutes or so. (pic below)
I continued on with the day knowing I would be going 16 miles off route to stay with Jon and Linda tonight. They are the generous souls who would give me shelter for the evening after I enquired on warmshowers.org. It was a little hilly to get there, and I will admit I did let out my first “Fuck” as one corner turned into another, but I was soon there.
When I arrived the pair of them were recording music in their studio. Yes, that’s right. I had happened upon a pair of cool musos. Cue fear of inadequacy, especially when they asked me to put on some music to accompany dinner. I started off with some cool hipster shit, but that ruined the mood, so Daft Punk took its place. Safe bet. Embarrassment averted. Just. Phew. We chatted outside by the open fire and had a few local brews and it was the first time I had had a social occasion that was similar to one I might experience back home and for that I was truly grateful. They were a really great pair and it was a pleasure criticise (slag off) Rupert Murdoch and the Fox brigade with them. Every night must end, however, and as I settled into my bed for the night I realised just how much I had enjoyed conversing with like-minded souls. I’m eager for more of that, so America, don’t do you self a disservice by presenting me with reactionary tea-partiers from here on in. I need the stimulation.
Paradox Lake in all its glory.
Is there any need to make serious signage cutsie? The answer is no. Grow up, NY State.
Pun of the day goes to...
This is a snapper turtle found alive on the road. They bite. That makes me brave.
If you build it, they will come.
Rich and Dave on their ride from Pittsburgh to Bar Harbor. Bloody nice chaps who brightened up my day. Don't they look nice, eh.
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