I’ve had a week to reflect on my bike ride across the USA following the Yellowstone Trail.  I’m glad I took up the adventure, it was a great experience.  It was challenging, but not as difficult as I thought it would be.  It was easier than hiking the Appalachian Trail.  Starting out slow with only 30 miles a day for the first week, and then building up by 10 miles a day each week helped my body prepare along the way for the challenge.  Those early miles were some of the toughest when I went over the Rockies in eastern Washington, Idaho, and western Montana.

            While it would be fun to bike across the USA on any route, following the Yellowstone Trail added another element of interest in the journey, and I learned a lot about its history, and history of the regions along the route.  And following the Yellowstone Trail provided an opportunity to meet some wonderful people along the way that I otherwise would not have met.  Not only did the YT make my ride more interesting, but it also made it more challenging as I was spending a lot of time on undeveloped roads and gravel roads.

            There are a lot of people I need to thank for their support along the way; helping with navigating, providing help along the way, and even riding some miles with me.  I appreciate your interest in following my adventure.  Having an opportunity to share it with you made it more meaningful to me.

            Two mysteries developed along the way that went unresolved, but I think I have some good answers.  The first was the red circle in a white square painted on the walls of the hotel in Waterville, WA and again in Coeur d’Alene, ID.  Dave King suggested that it may have been a sign used by the railroads as a seal of approval, that those hotels were approved for business by the railroad.  The second mystery was the “Ka Plunk” sound that woke me when I camped next to a pond at Warm Springs, MT.  Dale Sexton reported that the “Ka Plunk” sounds were beaver tails hitting the water.  That makes sense to me.  

            While biking I thought a lot about the differences between hiking and biking.  An obvious difference was mountain peaks.  When I saw them on the Appalachian Trail, I knew the trail was heading up and over them.  The point of the Appalachian Trail was to link the mountain peaks of the Appalachian Mountains.  However, in biking, I knew the trail would go through a pass between the mountain peaks.  It was tough enough biking over the pass, at least I did not have to bike over the peaks.  Another difference is that when going downhill on a bike, I could coast.  When hiking, I would still have to hike down, and some steep downhills were tougher than the uphills.

            During my bike ride, I met more people; but during my hike, I met people more.  My encounters with people along the Yellowstone Trail were usually a matter of minutes; hiking the AT, I spent weeks on and off with some people.

            You can eat a lot more while biking versus hiking.  Hiking the AT, most days you can only eat what you are carrying; you come to a town only every four or five days.  Biking, I was going through a town almost every day.  I’m going to miss my afternoon root beer floats.

            My Trek 520 performed very well for me.  In the 3,657 miles, I put it through a lot with off road riding on dirt trails, through fields even, and a lot of gravel.  I went through three pairs of tires, two chains, two sets of brake pads, and a pair of pedals.  The bike is now back in Jackson, Michigan being restored to like new condition.

            My cross country bike journey was a wonderful way to spend 65 days, and a great way to see the country and meet interesting people.  I recommend you get out and try it, not necessarily across the country; but a small trip across the state, or even the county.

Happy Trails,

Jim

             This morning I left Worcester, Mass. on Hwy 9 and then to Hwy 20 after Shrewsbury; and on through Northborough, Marlborough, South Sudbury, Wayland, and Weston.  After Weston, I took Wellesley Road to Hwy 30 into Boston, and then to Beacon Road.  I turned off Beacon Road at Park Drive, to Hwy 203, to Hwy 28, to Hwy 53 to Hwy 3A.  I went through Milton, Quincy, Weymouth, Assinppi, Hanover, North Pembroke, and Kinston and into Plymouth.

            I thought that with a good day, about 80 miles remaining, I would make it into Plymouth and finish my ride across the USA on the Yellowstone Trail today.  I knew that it may be a long day because cities usually slow me down with heavy traffic and traffic lights.  Right out of Worcester, I started up a steep hill.  If I was already closer to Boston, I would have thought this was “Heartbreak Hill”.  At this point I made a decision to not try to make Plymouth today; I will just get through Boston, down Hwy 53, look for a place to stay, and position myself to finish on Wednesday morning.  It made more sense to have two enjoyable days, than one hard day.

            As soon as I made this decision, it took the pressure off, and the ride became more fun.  I’ve generally lived my live with goals and targets, maybe this is a lesson to know when to back off and smell the roses.

            I liked biking through Boston; the traffic was not too bad.  I did find that Boston itself may have more colleges and universities than even Indiana has.  Boston seemed like a nice place to live.  But I noticed that people do not smile, even when greeted.  Earlier this year, when I put my house on the market, I created a spreadsheet to identify where a great place to live would be.  I have categories for financial and environmental factors like taxes, snowfall (I’m actually looking for a lot of snowfall for XC skiing), etc.  Maybe I need to put that all that aside and just look for a place where people smile a lot.

            After navigating myself through Boston, I encountered some street repair in Milton.  A policeman there, Officer Caputo, was interested in my ride.  He told me there was an old marker stone I missed identifying mileage to Plymouth, it was 38 more miles.  This route was used in the 1700’s for clergy to travel from town to town.  He also pointed out that I had stopped right in front of the house that George H. Bush was born in.

            A little further down the road I stopped at a Wal-Mart to buy a duffel bag to carry my stuff on the bike back home in.  My plan was to ship my bike home from Martha’s Bike Shop in Plymouth, to On Two Wheels in Jackson, Mich.  At the checkout, a young boy asked me if I was doing a lot of biking.  I told him what I was doing, and he said that it was more biking than he had done all his life.  That made me think, this may be equal to as much biking as I have done all my life.

            It was getting to be late afternoon, and I realized I was getting very close to Plymouth, and could easily make it tonight.  So I continued on.  At 6:30 I arrived in Plymouth, Mass.  I rode down to the waterfront, and the Plymouth Rock memorial.  The rock is nothing more than a large stone, down in a pit, with a memorial built above it.  It had even been cracked in half and cemented back together.  Still, it was exhilarating for me to have arrived at this point of the Yellowstone Trail, “A good Road from Plymouth Rock to Puget Sound”.  I had traveled 3,657 miles across the USA from the Pacific Ocean to the Atlantic Ocean.  I was feeling really good about this accomplishment.  And a lot of people there where taking an interest in it.  One woman mentioned that the Pilgrims were on the Mayflower for 66 day, just one day more than I was on the Yellowstone Trail.

            It was time to celebrate, so I checked into a motel and headed to Woods Seafood for a lobster dinner.

Epilogue:  Tuesday morning I rode my bike to Martha’s Bike Shop and dropped it off to have them ship it back to Michigan.  Then I took a bus form Plymouth to Boston Logan Airport and a flight to Detroit, and the Michigan Flyer to Jackson.  I’m back home and will sleep in my own bed tonight.  I will take a week, reflect on my ride, and write a final report on my bike ride.  My initial reaction, what a great experience!!!

            I leave Bonny Rigg Corner on Hwy 20 heading for Chester.  It is mostly down hill as they told me it would be last night.  I continue on Hwy 20 to Russell, Westfield, Springfield, and to Palmer.  East of Palmer, I take Hwy 67 through Warren and to Brookfield where I take Hwy 9 to Spencer, Tafts Corner, and through Worcester.

Along this route, I am crossing over and under I-90 several times.  Reminds me that just two months ago, I was dong the same thing in Washington state along I-90.  In Springfield, I looked for the Simpsons, but didn’t see them.  Nor did I see any Duff beer.

            It has been a long time since I have seen any evidence of the Yellowstone Trail, probably back in Indiana.  I understand that the Yellowstone Trail Association was not as active in the east back during the early years.  It may be that in the east roads were already more developed for automotive transportation, and they didn’t have the same needs.  It has also been a long time since I have met anyone who has heard of the Yellowstone Trail.  When I mention it, there is generally interest in its history, particularly learning they live along it. 

            Yesterday, the Yellowstone Trail traveled over the historic Jacobs Ladder route.  Today it traveled over the historic Boston Post Road.  With all the miles I have been covering, it leaves little time to explore.  That’s unfortunate because there is so much to explore here.  They have twice as much history as we have in the Midwest.  And as I get further east, it is taking on a very New England appearance, the architecture and the scenery.  Even people’s accents are sounding Bostonian.

            I’m not sure what a “tag sale” is, but there are lots of them this weekend, I’ve seen many signs.  It appears to be the same as a yard or garage sale.

            Late in the afternoon I got some rain again.  When I got through Worcester, it was already starting to get dark; it gets dark here earlier being more east.  After biking 87 miles today, I stopped at a motel, not making it as far as I wanted.  I was hoping to get closer to Boston to be sure I could finish tomorrow.  Now I’m not sure, it will depend on how it goes getting through Boston tomorrow.  Either way, it looks like I will get home in time to work on the final days of Brian Rooney’s campaign for Michigan’s 7th Congressional District.  The primary election is Tuesday August 3. 

            Another day of easy navigation, just follow Hwy 20 out of Rensselaer and thru Nassau to Lebanon Springs and into Massachusetts.  The road is still hilly, I am making slow time, and it begins to sprinkle as I get into Lebanon Springs, so I stop for lunch.  A guy says he just drove through rain that was coming down so hard he had to stoop driving.  A few minutes later, it came down that hard here.  I was glad to be inside.  I thought it would be one of those summer rains that quits soon and the sun comes out.  I waited an hour; it was still raining, so headed out in the rain. 

            I follow Hwy 20 to Pittsfield, Massachusetts and then down to Lee and across to Westfield.  I know this area because I lived in Pittsfield in 1974 when I worked for General Electric there.  I recall driving my 1973 VW Orange Beetle on Hwy 20 in the fall to see the beautiful fall colors in the valleys.  At the time I did not know I was driving the Yellowstone Trail.  Nor do I recall it being so hilly.  I‘m surprised my little VW made it up those hills, especially the hill that goes up and up and up for miles.  I’m also surprised my Trek 520 made it up, my legs are getting sore.

            It’s after 3:00 before I get to Pittsfield, the hills are slowing me down, and I’ve stopped a few times to rest, and to check out some old cemeteries, plus trying to wait out the rain.  Everything here goes way back.  I found one grave marker from a Revolutionary War veteran.  There are a lot of great places to see around here, but I am on a mission to finish, and take care of the closing on my house.  One of my favorites is the Normal Rockwell studio and museum at Stockbridge, Massachusetts.

            The Appalachian Trail crosses the Yellowstone Trail on Hwy 20 east of Lee.  When I got to Lee, I stopped and bought a bunch of Gatorade, M&M’s and hard candy.  When I got to the AT, I took the treats down the trail a bit and hung them on a tree.  It is a tradition on the AT to provide “Trail Magic” for hikers.  Just as I finished, three south bound thru hikers approached.  It is a hot and very humid day, and they enjoyed the Gatorade.  We talked a while about hiking and biking.

            It was late when I headed back on the road, and I still had not gone very far.  I’m recalling stories from when I hiked the AT, about hikers that really slow down when they approach the end because they don’t want to stop.  This is not the case with me.  It is the Berkshire Mountains slowing me down, not a desire to keep it going. 

At Becket, I stopped at Uncle Larry’s Tavern; it’s called Becket, but is actually at Bonny Rigg Corners.  I have only gone 58 miles and it is 7:30 pm already.  They tell me it is all down hill from here.  I am offered a place to camp out back, so I agree, and decide I will get up early and try to get a good day in tomorrow.  If I have a good day, I can position myself to finish my journey on Monday at Plymouth Rock.

            Navigation should be simple today, just stay on Hwy 5 from Little Falls to Albany, going through Johnsville, Palatine Bridge, Fonda, Amsterdam, and Schenectady.  Then take Hwy 20 out of Albany across the Hudson River.

            It was raining when I started in the morning, and rained all day until late afternoon.  So I got soaked, but it had been awhile since I was rained on like this.  Not only was it rain, but was raining hard, and right into my face, so I was also biking into the wind.  As the morning went on, I was getting a burning sensation in my eyes.  I had to stop and wipe them to relief it.  It kept getting worse and worse.  I did not know what was causing it; I’ve biked in the rain before, but never experienced this.  I considered acid rain, but knew that wasn’t it.  I considered that maybe cars and trucks driving by were kicking up road salt dissolved in the rain water and splashing my helmet which then dripped down into my eyes.  Nothing seemed to make sense, but it was turning into a serious problem because at times I could not keep my eyes open without hurting.  It was getting so bad, I was spending about half my time stopped wiping my eyes.  I decided that I could not continue biking in the rain and would stop when I got to Amsterdam.  I could not understand why I used to bike in the rain without my eyes burning, and now I can’t, what changed.  Then it occurred to me; back in Pennsylvania, I bought some felt stick-on pads to put in my helmet because it was fitting too loose.  Maybe something on the adhesive, or on the pads, was getting soaked and running into my eyes.  I took the pads off and had no problem after that.    

            The area between Little Falls and Amsterdam had a lot of dairy farms; at least from what I could see when I had my eyes open.  I saw more cows here than I did in Wisconsin.  When I stopped to take a picture of a “Drink Milk” sign on a barn, I met Kimberly.  She is a fifth generation dairy farmer.  She said it is very tough right now making it financially.

            In an Amish community before Palatine Bridge, I stopped to take a picture of two Amish girls at a roadside stand.  But they said no when I asked if I could take their picture.  Along with other foods, they were selling small six inch pies.  I bought a peach one and ate it their under the tent out of the rain.  The mother came out and we talked about biking across the country.  She said it was a cheap way to travel.  I told her that it was cheaper than a horse because I did not have to feed the bike.  Before I left, she gave me a plate of cookies that she said she could not sell because they were broken. 

            I was totally soaked from the rain.  When I got to Palatine Bridge, I stopped at a laundromat and changed into my street clothes, and put my biking clothes in a dryer for 30 minutes.  This may be a bit crazy, because I knew that when I put them back on they were going to get wet again.  But it did feel good to put on the dry clothes.  And they did get soaked again as soon as I got back on the road.

            By the time I got to Schenectady late in the afternoon, the rain had let up.  From Schenectady to Albany is all city biking, but it was late enough that traffic was not too bad.  I crossed the Hudson River and found a motel for the night.  Everything is spread out drying.

            I decided to deviate from the Yellowstone Trail, and take a ride on the Erie Canal.  Talking to Coach and Sharon last night, they piqued my interest in it.  Also, Daniel MacKay who is following my trip from Albany, and rode the Erie Canal with his family this summer, recommended the section from Syracuse to Canastota.

            Hwy 92 took me out of Syracuse to Lyndon Road where I picked up the Erie Canal State Park.  The tow path is a nice firm base, level, and easy to ride on.  It is relaxing not having to worry about traffic, and did I mention it is level.  It is hard to believe that all day yesterday, I rode 90 miles on hills, and this morning I rode on hills getting out of Syracuse; yet here they found level terrain to build the canal.  I stopped and took a tour of the boat yards museum at Chittenango.  Along the trail two spotted fawns jumped up in front of me and ran down the trail.  I had to slow down to keep from running over them before they ran off to the side.

            At Canastota, I got off the canal and rode back to Hwy 5 to Sherrill and on to Utica.  The road is still rolling, but not as steep as yesterday’s hills.  I am feeling slow, sluggish and tired; probably from the 90 miles of hills yesterday.  After Utica, Hwy 5 leveled out as it follows the Mohawk River downstream. I rode through Ilion and Herkimer and stopped at Little Falls for the night.  I got in late, managing to cover 76 miles today.

            Following are the words from the Song “The Erie Canal”.  They make more sense to me now.

I’ve got a mule,
Her name is Sal,
Fifteen years on the Erie Canal.
She’s a good old worker
And a good old pal,
Fifteen years on the Erie Canal.
We’ve hauled some barges in our day
Filled with lumber, coal and hay
And ev’ry inch of the way I know
From Albany to Buffalo.

Low Bridge, ev’rybody down,
For it’s Low Bridge,
We’re coming to a town!
You can always tell your neighbor,
You can always tell your pal,
If you’ve ever navigated
On the Erie Canal.

We better get along
On our way, old gal,
Fifteen miles on the Erie Canal.
Cause you bet your life
I’d never part with Sal,
Fifteen miles on the Erie Canal.
Git up there, mule, here comes a lock,
We’ll make Rome ‘bout six o’clock.
One more trip and back we’ll go
Right back home to Buffalo.

            First thing I did in the morning was to Google Map Syracuse to find out where the motel was in Syracuse.  The big surprise was that Syracuse is 90 miles away, not 60, a big difference on a bike.  I packed up quickly and headed out.  In addition to being a longer day than expected, the route has become very hilly, additionally slowing me down.  I’m still biking on Hwy 5 that goes into Syracuse.  I will bike through Lima, Bloomfield, Canandaigua, Geneva, Waterloo, Seneca Falls, Auburn, Elbridge, and Camillus.

            The area is very scenic, but the hilly.  I was told that the USA Bicycle team used this road for training before they moved to Colorado.  If I didn’t need to do 90 miles, and not having to get to Syracuse, it would be a lot more fun.  To make sure I get to Syracuse, I take fewer and shorter breaks.  At least the temperature is a little cooler, and I was treated to a refreshing shower in the afternoon.  This route takes me through the Finger Lakes area of New York.  Unfortunately, being pressed for time, I just ride through.

            Just outside of Canandaigua, I met Vera pushing her bike and cart up a long hill.  Vera is a Mennonite who went into town on her bicycle with cart to do her shopping.

            Late in the afternoon, I passed a large field of sunflowers.  I finally arrived in Syracuse a little after 6:00 pm.  The motel was right on Hwy 5.  I called “Coach” and met him and Sharon.  We went out to dinner at a pizza place, and caught up on the last two years.  “Coach”, is a professor at Indiana Wesleyan.  I knew he has hiked and biked a lot, but leaned he has written a couple books.  One was a guidebook on his canoeing of the Missouri River.  It was really great seeing him again and meeting Sharon.  I still can’t get over the coincidence that our paths crossed here n Syracuse. 

My plan was to ride Hwy 5 through Buffalo and on east.  But soon after continuing on Hwy 5, it turned into a freeway with many exists and entrances.  These are difficult because I ride the shoulder and then have to cross traffic lanes at each entrance and each exit.  So I decided to get off the freeway, and just pick my way through Buffalo.  Unfortunately, I got off into a maze and could not get out of it.  Even my Garmin GPS was working against me, showing me roads that didn’t exist.  I was stuck in tangles of railroads and waterways.  I back tracked out and finally got into downtown Buffalo and made my way out of town.

Buffalo has some nice parks and I noticed that nearly everyone in the park was talking on a cell phone.  I wonder if we are really better off with all the communications we are doing.

            I got back on Hwy 5 on the east side of Buffalo and took it to Harris Hill, Clarence, Pembroke, Batavia, Stafford, Le Roy, Caledonia, and Avon.  At Clarence, the Akron Bank was providing a lunch of hot dogs, ice cream and soda for their customers and the community. I explained that I was neither, but was invited to join them anyway.  So there is such a thing as a free lunch.

            When I got through Batavia, I stopped at Blondie’s Sip-N-Dip for a root beer float.  It was crowded when I got there, and people kept streaming in.  I asked why it was so popular, and was told by late afternoon would be even more crowded.  They said Blondie’s is known for large servings at a good price. 

            While, at Blondie’s I responded to an e-mail from “Coach”, a guy I hiked for a while with on the Appalachian Trail in 2008.  He mentioned that he and his wife were biking along the Erie Canal from Buffalo to Albany, and where in the area.  I responded that they must be several days ahead of me, and that unfortunately I would not likely catch-up before they got to Albany.

            I stopped in Le Roy and found out that this is where JELL-O was made from 1900 to 1964.  While going down to see the plant it was made at, I met Kodey, TamTam, and Kizzy who asked me to mention them in my trail report.

            In Avon, I stopped at Duffy’s for dinner.  I’m sure you are reading Avon with a pronunciation similar to the cosmetic products.  But they take pride here in correcting us visitors that the city of Avon is pronounced with a short “A” sound and the accent on the second syllable.  I checked my e-mails and found a response already from “Coach” who said he and Sharon would be in Syracuse tomorrow night.  I asked and was told that Syracuse was 60 miles away.  So I planned to get a room in Avon, already having 77 miles in today, and only need to go 60 tomorrow.  I was told there was a hotel in East Avon.  On the way out of town I was told to stop at Tom Wahl’s root beer stand; it is homemade and the very best.  When I got to Tom Wahl’s the parking lot was full and signs for overflow parking at a car dealership next door.  There was a long line for service, so I left and missed the world’s greatest root beer.

            I got to the motel and called “Coach” and told him I would see him tomorrow night, and called and made reservations at the same hotel in Syracuse.  How strange is this that someone I hiked on the Appalachian Trail with, that our paths would cross again while biking?  It will be good to see him again.

            I biked out of Harborcreek continuing along Hwy 20 towards New York.  The first two miles were all down hill, I didn’t need to peddle at all.  Plus it was a cooler morning than previous days, but skies were threatening rain.  On both sides of the road are rows and rows and rows of grape vineyards.  There are grape vineyards as far as the eye can see.  For about 60 miles, there was nothing but grapes.

            As I biked toward a vegetable stand, I heard what sounded like a shotgun.  I had guessed that it was intended to scare away birds.  I stopped at the vegetable stand and Anna confirmed the blast was to scare birds from the sweet corn fields.  It goes off about every 15 minutes.  She also told me the grape vines were primarily Concord and Niagara.  Since she was from a grape producing area, I asked her if she knew why if wine is made in both red and white colors, how come grape jelly is only made in red color.  Anna did not know, but guessed that Niagara grapes did not make good jelly.

            Shortly I arrived at the New York state line.  I stopped for a blueberry sundae, and while stopped got a call from my insurance agent.  Before I left on my bike trip, I thought I had taken care of all bills that would be due in June and July while I was gone.  But I missed my car insurance.  It had now lapsed and I needed to get a fax to her that I had no claims during the last several days to reinstate it.  The next city up the road was Westfield, NY.  I stopped at the Key Bank there and asked Linda if I could receive and sent a fax.  She was very kind to do this, so that got taken care of.

            A little further down the road, I met JoAnn.  She was walking her bike, so fully loaded with bags of stuff there was no room for her to ride.  She was heading for Long Island, New York.  Joann had started out from South Carolina about a year ago, and headed to Florida and then back up north to New York.  She said didn’t walk the entire way, sometimes she gets rides from people.

            By the time I arrived at Silver Creek, New York, the sun was coming out.  I had missed the rain, and it had been a cooler day today.  I stopped at the Am Vets Club for a beer.  There I met Ken Ditcher.  Ken is a WWII veteran of the Navy and served on a submarine in the South Pacific around the Midway Islands.  He is 84 and was awarded the Bronze Star for his service.  The submarine crew had kept in contact over the years, and he is now the last survivor.  After the war, he worked 30 years as a tool and die maker at the Ford Buffalo Stamping Plant.

            Out of Sliver Creek I biked toward Buffalo on Hwy 5, and found a Best Western at Lackawanna.  I called a couple motels in Buffalo and fond some where filled for the night, and others more expensive, so I checked in here for the night, already having gone 80 miles for the day.  I suppose Buffalo gets a lot of Niagara Falls tourists in the summer.