Today’s ride would cross back into America, ending in Medina, NY. [We learned that morning that the town’s name is not pronounced like Funky Cold Medina.]
We had breakfast at the B&B, which was very nice, and met our B&B mates, tourists from France. After basic organization and taintenance, we got on the road, which we knew started with a climb up to the bridge, which was a pleasant, narrow path, probably an old railroad grade.
We were briefly worried by CLOSED signs on the approach to the bridge, but they were only relevant to a particular freeway entrance. The bike and pedestrian access worked the same as usual, which meant that we needed to talk to the bridge manager, who directed us to which lane to use;, which was the truck lane. After a quick stop in the duty-free for maple leaf cream cookies (Trader Joe’s makes a crappy knock-off; these were the real deal) we jumped out onto the bridge, which was a little nerve-wracking, but because we were closer to the edge, and high above the gorge, was a bit more dramatic than the Peace Bridge. We made it most of the way across before a truck came up behind us, and the driver was accommodating. When we got to the wider part of the bridge we let him by, and got in line to declare our cookies and get back onto U.S. soil.
The exit of the bridge was again not designed for bikes, and we had to basically take a highway exit to get down onto residential streets, and then to Upper Mountain Road, which we’d be riding for many miles. Upper Mountain is a lightly winding road, with light traffic and some small ups and downs. It traveled through Iroquois Nation land, which had many cannabis shops, and a 45mph Nation speed limit. I’m in. It was pretty pleasant riding.
After exiting the Nation we wound up in upstate New York agricultural land. Trump country. Signs like, “Jesus is my savior, Trump is my president.” Cognitive dissonance is real; have you ever listened to what either of those guys have to say?
We came upon an honor system farm stand at Becken Farm. Everything looked quite nice, but Nancy wanted to buy just one apple; everything there was in bags and bushels. They had a phone number, so Nancy (being Nancy) called to ask if we could pay for just one apple. Elaine, one of the owners, said she’d come right over because she loved talking to “you people.” They know that this road is on the Adventure Cycling Northern Tier route, and they’ve let cyclists camp on their farm. Elaine was really sweet, and even let Nancy use the bathroom in the house. She should be an Adventure Cycling trail angel!
We were approaching Pekin, which was listed on the Adventure Cycling map as having full services, but didn’t have a restaurant or cafe on Upper Mountain Road; we’d have to detour a couple of klicks. We decided the snack we just had (apple, cheese stick, and maple leaf cookies) was enough for now, and kept rolling along through agricultural landscapes, mostly corn and soybeans. Some fields were already harvested, while others were showing fall colors.
Traffic started to get busier as we headed into Lockport, which was about the halfway point of the day. (A notable landmark outside of town was our first Harris/Walz sign since Buffalo). Lockport from the east appears very industrial, with large warehouses and plants. Arriving in the old town, we had a bagel at Steamworks Coffee, and talked with the staff about Duane Flatmo’s sculpture, El Pulpo Magnifico.
Lockport is where we joined the Erie Canal. Growing up in Jersey, of course I’d heard about the canal, but I didn’t really understand how audacious a project it was. Begun in 1816, prior to the invention of the bicycle or the railroad, the canal crosses the entire state of New York to connect Lake Erie with the Hudson River. Lockport features the remnants of one of the most difficult bits of engineering of the entire length, the Lockport Flight which lifted ships 49 feet through a series of five locks.
Since the widening of the canal in 1935, the transition is made with a single large lock, and we got to see a boat using it.
After leaving Lockport, the rest of our day would be on the canal towpath, mostly gravel, entirely flat. It was pleasant riding through the trees and flowers, with many blue herons and cormorants in the canal.
We’d occasionally see other cyclists, some day tripping from town, others through tourists like us. There was no cross-traffic, so we made good time. One trail segment was out, which meant we needed to divert to roads which were cautioned as being for “long distance confident road cyclists.” Not sure what the concern was; the roads were fine. Our experience of the upstate rural roads is that there was typically little traffic; it moved fast but there was enough room that it was never a problem.
The canal is dotted with small historical towns, one of which is Middleport, where we stopped at a candy shop. (Of course, five hours into day two).
Our destination for the evening was another of those charming old towns, Medina. We were staying in an AirBNB which was very nice, though we had to haul the bikes up a narrow staircase. We walked around town a bit, stopped into a pub for a beer, then had a fancy anniversary dinner (16!) at a farm-to-table restaurant. We came back to our lodging and got to bed early; tomorrow would be Nancy’s longest day.