Day 4: Rochester to Syracuse

After a few days of R 'n R with old college friends in Rochester, it was time to hit the road again. It wasn't far from my friend's house to the path in Pittsford, once on the path it was the same as the first day, the same gravel towpath and the canal had the same width. Even though things looked the same, I was enjoying being on the path, mostly because it was so quiet, no traffic to speak of.

Pittsfield, NY. Said to walk my bike, but with no peds, why bother? I'm a rebel, I know.

The same old path.

After Palmyra, when I was figuring for a snack, I saw two ladies walking along the path, fumbling with my Cliff Bar I was able to shove it in my jacket pocket and call out my pass. I passed no problem, but then I went to continue with my Cliff Bar and this was where things got hectic. Reaching into my pocket I pulled out a glove, my MP3 player, my headphones, and my food. Grabbing too many things, I struggled to keep them in my hands. Diverting my attention from the road to the objects in my hand I began veering right. I tried to regain control, but it was too late, I was off the path and squeezing my brakes. In slow motion I watched my tire slowly roll into a log on the side of the path and I went over my handlebars.

Glad I didn't fall into any mud or water, that would have been a one way ticket to cold.

Shortly after the crash, the steed survived of course.

I was fine, but being childish I swore a bit at the bike and threw my helmet. I was okay, the only thing to get hurt was my headphones, one of them ripping off in my ear, which I suppose things could have been worse. Still, second day of riding on this tour and the second day I ended up on the ground. After this crash, I began to get down on myself a little bit. I was frustrated at falling and feeling a little worn out from spending all day in the saddle, with no time to enjoy off then bike. But as I tried to convince myself to continue the tour, the path changed from the same old to something novel. Before I reached Lyons outside of Palmyra, the leaf covered path began to bob up and down, breaking the monotony of the flat path. This gentle change in riding  began me thinking of the possibly cross racing next season and I embraced the small rolls on the path and pushed a hard pace forward. This was enough to keep me happy all the way to Lyons.

Rolling foliage.

Swamps along the canal.

Locks outside of Lyons.

Then Lyons improved my demeanor even more. Pulling into town the town center seemed small and hardly existent, but I was here and about halfway done for the day, so I decided it was lunch time. I putted around for a bit looking for someone to ask and the only person, instead someone found me. Baldy Bob was his name and he greeted boats coming along the canal in the summer time. He informed me of how the Erie Canal Bikeway is actually a fairly popular touring route in the summer, because of this Bob had met some cyclists over the years and took their pictures to post on the Lyon's community blog. He snapped my photo and gave a short history of the town, of how the canal used to run right through town, akin to how US highways run through small Midwestern towns now, the canal climbed behind the main street (now a parking lot). He also told of how Lyons gained it's notoriety, once being the world's largest peppermint exporter in the mid 19th c. People like Bob make the road worth being on. He suggested a little diner, which was very little, and due to my new vegan diet, I only had a roll and some homefries, a sad lunch indeed.

Downtown Lyons.

Baldy Bob, displaying the steed.

The bridge at Lyons.

Beyond Lyons the towpath ended. I was now traveling along Bike Route 5, a cross-state bikeway (one of three, I don't know why the numbers are so far apart, but 17 goes across the southern tier and 11 goes up into the Adirondacks). I never thought I'd say it, but bless the interstates, because NY 31 between Rochester and Syracuse seemed very untraveled, I rarely met a car on the wide shouldered road going east. I popped over a few hills and ended up marveling at the swamps surrounding the Seneca River. There was a park along the West bank of the River with a mud laden road I wish I had time to explore, but unfortunately the little amount of sunlight and an over ambitious daily mileage meant I had to keep going.

Repair boats outside Lyons, nice Empire State Blue and Gold.

There was a lot of wilderness surrounding the trail, so quiet, I love it.

An old aqueduct outside Syracuse.

After a quick stop at Port Byron, where I took some light ribbing from some comical truckers, I began the last twenty mile bit into the city center of Syracuse. I abandoned the canalway prematurely, turning off around Weedsport to get on State Highway 5 for a straight shot into the city center. This was a bad idea. Not only did 5 turn into a freeway at one point (no bikes allowed) meaning I had to reroute, but the road also had some hills I was forced to battle. I was greeted with some encouraging honks (first ones of tour), but it wasn't enough to make me forget the struggles of pressing upward. Then once I began the descents the sun started doing the same, making those rapid descents chilly. By the time I reached Camillus on the outskirts of Syracuse, I was ready to quit. The last section into Syracuse was not exactly worth seeing either. A four lane highway shouldered by large parking lotted strip malls and big box stores, basically what I now refer to, and always will refer to, as the buttholes of America (I never understood these places, but a lot of people find them very enjoyable, to each their own I suppose).

The path going towards Syracuse, it was very rural here.

Bare leaved trees and swamps, not exactly the white path I was hoping, but still the change in  seasons makes NY so different in winter.

Distant hills, being on mountain tops, these hills look pretty weak from this height, but still Central NY is rollin'.

I avoided traffic and ended up in downtown Syracuse in Clinton Square, where the canal used to cut right through the heart of downtown Syracuse (the commercial route now diverts far north of the city). Downtown Syracuse was actually pretty quaint too, with similar well lit antiquated buildings as Buffalo and Rochester with a nice downtown public skating rink (like it's fellow canal cities to the west). It wasn't much further til I reached my Warmshowers hosts' house, where we swapped stories over dinner and some beers. It was another high mileage day completed in a hearty headwind with some hills thrown in, I wasn't really sure of how many more of those days I could put in.

Day 1: Buffalo to Rochester

The drinks from the night before came back to haunt me in the morning. My alarm went off at 6 30, when I wanted to be up, I rolled over and shut it off. I woke up again somewhere around sunrise, rolled over and slept some more. Finally around 8 30, I rolled over and realized, shit I need to get going. It took me some time to pack my bags and get going (plus my host Brian woke up and so I chatted with him for a bit too), by the time I put rubber on pavement, it was near 10 AM.

The steed before setting out.

One last look at the city.

Going under the Peace Bridge

Once again I tread the familiar Riverwalk (not going through the city to Amy's Place for breakfast as I wanted, being too late), heading north towards Tonawanda Creek, the last leg of the old Erie Canal journey before Buffalo. A light snow had begun to fall, finally, I get some of the white stuff I traveled across the country to see. Luckily though it wasn't a blizzard and by the time I hit the Tonawanda Creek, the snow had dissipated.

The Tonawanda Creek path in Amherst.

Empty pathways in the cold.

My first look at the manufactured section of the canal.

After about an hour and a half on the road I was jogging along fairly nicely with a decent tailwind. The bike path was fairly clear and dry and swerved back and forth, then a wet corner struck. I leaned into the corner and my wheels slipped out from under me and I went down hard. Less than two hours in and I already found myself on the ground. My right wrist and knee took the brunt of it, but after taking a second to check myself out, I was fine. My bike on the other hand needed a little love, my brake levers were pointing inward. But I was prepared and pulled out my tools and fixed that up too. From there on out I took the corners much more timidly.

Niagara Produce in Lockport

The last lock of three in Lockport, I should have gotten a better picture of all three, oh well.

I reached Lockport around noonish and grabbed some food from a supermarket, this is my first vegan tour so it would be interesting to see how eating would be. I passed a Subway, a vegan fast food staple, but figured that to be a last ditch effort, instead I found Niagara Produce, a nice little produce market and deli. I grabbed some fruit and some trail mix, I suppose this would be my future tour compromise, living by markets instead of fast food, probably for the better anyway.

Middleport

Medina 

Waterfall behind Medina.

From Lockport the towpath began. I was now on gravel, which oddly enough made me more confident about staying upright. The canal path looked about the same all along, not changing much. Middleport was the first town I hit, I checked it out found a nice coffee shop, considered coffee, but since I had just stopped in Lockport I decided to press on, figuring the next town would most likely have coffee as well. How wrong I was. I somehow circumvented the Medina downtown and watched the Main St pass by from across the marina. The next few towns were tiny little towns that lacked any sort of business district. Albion was my only hope. I recognized the name (as I had with Medina) so I figured it would be a larger settlement. As I approached Albion I looked across the canal and realized why I recognized the name, on the south side of the canal was a large institutional brick building behind a series of chainlink fences, the last topped with razor wire. That's why I know the name, Albion State Prison. It's strange to think how this could make a town recognizable. The downtown was fairly large compared to the others passed, the largest actually I've seen on the canal (besides Lockport), but it was empty. Two blocks long and one block wide crowded with storefronts lying vacant. Albion was a bust as well.

Along the path were a lot of wide open grassy fields like this one.

I was so excited to reach Albion.

All these shops made me hopeful. False hope

By Albion I was forty miles from Lockport with no stop and my toes were starting to get icy. My feet felt like ice blocks just spinning dead weight in my toe clips. I kept spinning and passed the tiny towns of Holley and Eagle Harbor, seeing no sign of any commercial life, I just kept  going. Once I reached Brockport the sun was nearing the horizon, I decided to skip Brockport too, in hopes of reaching Rochester before nightfall.

Brockport turning on their lights before I was even finished.

I didn't. The sun was down as I crossed into the suburb of Gates, where I reentered the roadways. I stopped first at Wegman's a regional (and awesome) supermarket where I feasted on the hot bar (vegan friendly) before meeting up with my friends Mike and Sam. Even just walking off the bike for a couple minutes and getting some food in me made me feel better and riding the two miles from the supermarket to my friends' apartment I rode out of my saddle happy to put the first day behind. Day one was a series of lessons learned, leave early to get enough sunlight and stop for lunch. Two days off in Rochester before my next day of riding to Syracuse.