Northern Tier Day #10 Palmyra, NY to Middleport, NY
Northern Tier Day #10
May 29, 2019
Palmyra, NY to Middleport, NY 81 Miles
Ride Time 7:36
Tour Total 790 Miles
I slept great last night under the pavilion in the city park by the marina in Palmyra. The overhead lights never bothered me. Despite the cold, it got quite warm in my tent by morning, and I probably shouldn’t have slept in my long underwear. The public bathroom at the pavilion was locked from 10pm to 6:30am. If I had realized there was a shower in there last night, I would have used it. Actually, there wasn't hot water so probably not.
I took my time getting ready as townsfolk walked their dogs in the park. I loved having picnic tables to organize and pack my things. My shoes were still wet from yesterday, and it was a drag to put them back on. I didn’t receive any calls from Slovenia this morning. The forecast predicted rain for the afternoon.
The Erie Canal towpath was amazing. I was basically riding through the woods underneath a green canopy alongside the original 50 foot wide canal. I was cruising down a cinder path that I had all to myself with the smell of flowers and squirrels and bunnies running across the path. It was cool, gray, and overcast. I was charged by a goose as I tried to take its photo. Those things can be vicious.
The pre-ride clothing calculus is important, and can make or break the beginning of a ride. Today I started with leg-warmers, a long-sleeve jersey, my cycling sweater, and rain jacket as a shell, plus my balaclava. It felt just right.
I passed lock number 30 in Macedon. The engineering behind Clinton’s Ditch completely amazes me. There were two tents at the hiker-biker site in Macedon, but it didn’t have a nice pavilion or picnic tables like Palmyra. At one point a deer ran down the path ahead of me and eventually out-paced me cutting off into the woods. I rode through a tiny hamlet where everyone had a camper in their front yard or lived in a trailer. The gravel road was lined with flowers, the smell of which was too fragrant for words. Then I was back on my towpath. I saw another bunny and a crane.
I was passed by an eastbound local cyclist. Workers were repairing the adjacent train line. This corridor has been moving vast amounts of freight for over 200 years. Numerous people were out walking on the towpath as I entered Fairport. In town, I went Durf’s for breakfast. It’s been family owned and operated for over 40 years. I had an egg sandwich with home fries, orange juice, and a coffee. I met a guy at the counter who taught at RIT and had done a lot of touring.
I saw banners for Fairport’s Canal days this coming weekend, and I was sorry to miss that. Outside of Rochester I encountered a plethora of cyclists. I cycled the Great Embankment, and was on the levee that separated the canal from the valley. The canal has lots of giant turn-off valves hanging from gantries that span the channel, and can shut off the canal’s water. They used to drain it in winter, but I’m not sure if they still do.
I’ve seen many signs promoting the repeal of the New York Safe Act, a gun regulation law passed by the New York State Legislature and was signed into law by Governor Andrew Cuomo in January 2013. At Pittsford I finally saw a boat on the canal. It was a proper narrow boat filled with sightseers.
I passed lock #32. When Charlotte and I rode the Erie Canal a few years ago, I had to take a photo of every single lock. I’m glad I got that out of my system. This time I can fly. At lock #33 Two elderly Sikh gentleman were seated at a picnic table. Nearing Rochester, amidst the freeway overpasses, I passed an REI co-op, but I didn’t need anything. I crossed the Genesee River and numerous water crossings circumnavigating Rochester.
I startled a deer who was standing right in the middle of the trail looking away from me. Further down the trail a downed tree completely blocked the way. A cyclist behind me exclaimed, “Oh the tree's still there!”. On the western side of Rochester the canal pierced a cut through stone. I’m amazed they were able to do that in the early 1800’s with shovels, pickaxes, and mules.
The trail was closed at State Route 390, and I had to detour out onto the highway and share the pavement with motor vehicles. This took me out of my bliss for a moment until I was back on the path. Soon I was back out on in the woods on cinder gravel. There were dozens of geese on the trail with their goslings. The parents were very protective and would threaten me with their wide open beaks showing their pink tongues while snarling at me. I just want to get down the trail guys. I’m not gonna run over your kids.
There were some serious ruts in the trail. It had started raining and I had to pull over and put on my rain pants and shoe covers. I found myself trying to avoid trenches full of mud. At one point I veered into a sticker bush. The trail became so narrow that it was literally 6 inches wide with tall grass to either side. I could see why Gary got frustrated and rode on the highway. Then I realized I was on the wrong side of the canal. The bike path was on the other side. I crossed at the next bridge and got back on route.
As I was coming into Greece, I noticed men fishing while others walked their dogs. I got to enjoy beautiful irises planted along the towpath. I was overheating a little bit. It was too warm for leg-warmers and rain pants, so I stopped underneath an overpass and removed my leg-warmers. It took forever. I put back on my rain pants and the temperature was better. At this point there was only a light drizzle.
In Spencerport I saw my first beautiful vertical lift bridge. At the intersection of State Route 280 there was a sign that said TRAIL CLOSED. A large dump truck filled with gravel was driving down the trail ahead. There were two workers sitting in a pick up truck. As I approached one of them rolled down the window, and I asked if I could pass. He said that it would be rough, but that I could. He said that I needed to be careful of construction equipment. I definitely learned my lesson from the Lolo Pass experience last year, and I was trying to be on my best behavior. Workers were rebuilding a long stretch of the levee and the path was mud. I was following bike tire tracks that seemed about a day old. I wondered if they were Heath’s.
In Brockport I went to the Lift Bridge Bookshop for some postcards and then to the Custom House, canal side, for a burger and 2 Hefe Weitzen’s. Leaving the Custom House and on my way to the post office, I had an issue with my bungee cord completely wrapped around my rear hub. This has happened before and it’s a bad habit. I could have broken spokes or screwed up my hub. The hook on the end of my bungee cord is completely bent out of shape. This bungee is the exact right length and perfect tension, and it has to get me to the Pacific.
After lunch and back on the trail, I encountered even more mud. There was more levee construction and the bike path was completely torn up. It was a lousy riding experience. My rig was completely covered in mud. It was packed up under the fenders, gummed in the brake pads and front hub, and caked all over my panniers. I could feel the resistance that it created. I would need to seriously clean my bike and all my gear. At one point I saw a bluejay fly up into a tree.
My friend Bill is the ultimate trail angel. Last year while I was riding the Trans Am, he found me two different places to stay in Oregon. My hosts were extraordinarily generous and I relished my visits with them. This year Bill has hooked me up with a place to stay in Buffalo. I wasn’t quite sure if I was going to be able to stay with Scott or not. He confirmed just the other day that he’d be there. Prior to that it had been up in the air. Long story short Bill got me a place to stay with his friend Leslie. I’ve been back-and-forth with Leslie by email, not quite sure if I was going to be staying with her on Friday or with Scott on Thursday. This morning Leslie let me know that there was chocolate from Bill waiting for me at her place. O.M.G.! I guess I’ll be meeting Leslie no matter what. Thanks Bill! You’re the best!
The path finally returned to cinder and there were miles of apple groves to my right. I saw another crane. I rode through Albion, another sad upstate town with beautiful buildings and history. All I could find were bars, haircutting salons, and the police station, so I kept rolling. I flipped my map at Noblesville Road, and was almost to the end of section 10. The towpath was littered with goose poop and I was back on cinders.
I rode over the Medina Culvert, which is the first and only road culvert ever built underneath the Erie Canal. The original culvert was built in 1823. I’ll venture to guess this was the work of Italian master stone masons showing off. I saw three buzzards sitting on a rock by the canal. They flew away as I approached, and their wingspans were ginormous. I passed the northernmost point on the Erie Canal. In Medina there was a huge concrete edge with a drop down 50 feet to the right. This was a designed canal overflow which included an underpass and waterfall, another demonstration of incredible 19th century engineering.
In Middleport I met westbound touring cyclists Marina and Kevin, who were riding from Buffalo to Portland Maine. It was their first day on the road. Kevin was from Pittsburgh and Marina was from Russia. She went to school in Seattle and was familiar with Anacortes. They were the first touring cyclists I’d seen since Gary, when I crossed from Vermont to New York. I went to Darrell’s Place for dinner, and had the fish fry, a green salad, french fries and two beers.
The marina camping pavilion in Middleport wasn't as nice as the one in Palmyra. There wasn't a bathroom, picnic tables, or lights, but it had power for my hungry devices and columns to hang my hammock. I was forty feet from the edge of the canal, the singing lift bridge was in site and within earshot. A few stars were out, and everything was good!
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