The first problem we encountered leaving Burlington was a missing 50 yards of bike path en route to the ferry...
But not particularly wanting to cycle the 3 hours back around, superman-Tom leapt boldy across and saved the day! Huzzah!
Or maybe we got ferried across by two lovely Quebecois... I forget.
The Adirondacks is big lake, big tree, big space country.
Jon:
The last two weeks of riding have been a little different, we've slowed down a lot, doing as little as two hours riding some days, just generally rolling along at a more relaxed pace. Part of that was realising we were just going to burn out if we kept up the pace of the first week, but perhaps what put more pressure on us to do this was my knee, which has been aching since the long hilly days of Vermont. Tried various things and seem to have figured how not to aggravate it and keep up a reasonable pace. Just not pushing it too hard each day, and concentrating on my left leg a lot more for the climbs.
The riding through the Adirondacks was a little less spectacular than I had hoped for, (but perhaps all the better for it). We did take the 'easy' route with flatter roads thanks to my knee. The lakes and forests seemingly endless, but without the grand vistas I had hoped for. Still, waking up in the mornings and watching the sun set light to the mist off the lake was truly stunning.
Blinding light sings from the pond surface
Mist and water boil.
Steaming porridge breath, numb hands
Reflected light waves through the pines.
We also experienced our first rain. Stopping early one afternoon to wild camp away from the highway in the quiet of the woods. First opportunity to get out a book and just sink into another's tale, with the soft dripping of rain on the spongy forest floor. Making breakfast the next morning my music was punctuated with the heavy wet sounds of the rain making it's way from leaf to ground. Very pleasant indeed.
New York's grand open spaces seem very different from Vermont's. Much bigger, much more empty, much more desolate and without people.
As we neared the edge of the Adirondacks the landscape changed again; much flatter riding and the forests change from pines and firs to deciduous forests of lighter greens, looser foliage which seem to sway more with the freedom of space. Passing our nights in closed state campgrounds we heard wolves howling at full moons all night long. Cold too. Sleeping in hats and socks.
"After supper we went up-stairs and smoked and read in bed to keep warm. Once in the night I woke and heard the wind blowing. It felt good to be warm and in bed." - Hemingway, The Sun Also Rises
We were treated to several spectacular evenings; full moons dancing on slowly shifting ponds, and sunsets bursting through black clouds to light bands of spectacular reds and yellows sandwiched between cool blues of sky and cool greens of forest floor, clouds reminiscent of Constable.
Long periods without showers mean a lot of cafe-restroom-sink-washing. That's laundry AND full-body wash (when there's a lock on the door...).
Crossing the border at Cape Vincent was a one man and his dog operation. Smiling American custom officers laugh as we board the ferry, Canadian just nod and welcome. The scenery reminds me of the Northumberland of half-term holidays; and lo and behold, within days we pass through Northumberland county, then Durham, Newcastle, Bristol, Scarborough, Brighton... even Braintree. Apparently efforts of a government scheme to make a New 'England' to attract American royalists.
The change over to kilometres was a welcome one. As soon as we crossed the border a hellish wind rose up to meet us. Cycling against a strong headwind for a week is not cricket! If we were still working in miles the numbers would depress. The weather changed for the worse too, getting icy cold with rain and sleet. After I left my full-finger gloves behind on the pier stateside I resorted to socks as mittens, two pairs with sandwich bags as wind-breakers on the feet! Stopping plenty for tea and coffee to warm cold hands and dry damp bums.
Mindless pedalling days, days when;
Everything is better in the sun,
Everything is better when you stop.
Everything is better with a cup of tea.
The wind rips across long grass making it swell like rough seas.
"Heaven gives its glimpses to those,
Not in a position to look too close." - Frost, A Passing Glimpse
[more to come...]
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