Big Bird's Adventures

While covering 3 days in my last post, this post will look at the next 5 days in which I completed my Bike About, where I left my home in Ocean NJ, where I was intending to return 8 full days later after riding a giant clockwise loop into PA up through and across the Catskills in NY, and then down through Manhattan to the Pier 11 ferry terminal and onto a Seastreak Ferry back to Monmouth County where I would finish up.

After bidding my new friends farewell, I rode down through town, and into the train station parking area where the trail had brought me into Jim Thorpe, and turned North and started to pedal. Whether this section used to be rail or not, is unknown to me, but for the next 10 miles or so, the trail parallels the existing train tracks. There is a tourist train that takes people up the gorge and back again, and they always have the option to bring a bike and ride back, or to simply walk back. Much of the trail was a crushed cinder highway, and the D&L pretty much stayed that way well into the gorge.

The thing about these Eastern Rail Trails, is like the Appalachian Trail, much of it is done within the confines of a canopy of trees, so while the Lehigh Gorge was going by as I pedaled through, it wasn’t obvious. Yes, I could hear the rapids at times, and also the voices of the rafters and various watercraft, but there were very few points where any kind of “open” vista presented itself.

At one point I ran into Jim who had gotten up early pearly and instead of hanging around, went for a quick ride up to White Haven and back again. He was returning and would join the others for their return trip. Besides Jim, I saw very few people on the trail, and even fewer going in the same direction as I was. Even after White Haven, the encounters were few in either direction.

White Haven. When I got to White Haven the sky was blue, and I was hungry, and there was an old diner about a block off the route, so I locked up my bike, and went in for some eats. It was a standard diner, just like the old air stream trailers they resembled, stainless panels outside, and a bar stool counter and boothes to the left and right of the entrance. Collectively the average age in the place seemed to hover older than dirt, and that included the help. I am not entirely sure that I was well taken care of, but I wasn’t really in a hurry. The forecast for the day was 0% rain, even though the day before had the same forecast and we got rained on 4 times. Eventually my order was placed, and served up, and after finishing up I suspected that this was one of those “Cash is King” places where my card was worthless, so I ditched across the street to a bank and got $100 out of the ATM, and came back to pay, however, when I emerged back into the light of modern day America, the blue sky was gone, and it was nothing but “You are going to get rained on again!” clouds lurking in all directions.

Nothing to do but ride, and ride I did. The D&L is supposed to go all the way into Wilkes Barre, where it can join into the Heritage River Trail. The HRT is fairly complete and jumps back and forth along the Lackawana River until it morphs into the Delaware and Hudson Rail Trail. While I believe work is in progress to hook them up, the D&L does come to an end about 10 miles South of Wilkes Barre and you get dumped onto a not-so-deserted road with a speed limit faster than comfort affords. I tried to stop for a quick snack, and to take off my shoes for a little bit of foot respite, but then I felt the first drops. Shoes back on, and back on the bike I rode on. Whether I should have ignored my navigation is unclear, but I decided not to ignore, and soon was on a quieter road that came at a price, and that price was route 309. At least the shoulder was wide, and I rode 309 up an unexpected grade, and then had a very nice downhill into Wilkes Barre proper, while avoiding the 81 ramps, and veering off 309 onto local roads.

Wilkes Barre does not look well. The region was a coal region and we don’t do coal any more, and much of the heavy industry was also gone. At one point where my route seemed like it was going to roll through some ups and downs, I checked the map and moved over to River Road, which I surmised based on its name, that it would follow the river and not have too much elevation change. It was on River road when the sky started to look worse, and the drops started to fall, and I was lucky to get off the road and into a cafe that had was also a cat shelter. I hung out there long enough for the rain to pass and to decide that I was not camping, and I found a a good deal at the Raddison right in downtown Scranton. All I had to do was get there.

For the most part, it was a combination of River Road and Main Street through the various towns until I found this access path to the Southern start of the Heritage River Trail. I rode past the right turn at first and had to double back, and I think it was called Depot something, and it was very rough, but I found a way through and soon I was on the HRT and it looked like rain, and I was happy to heading for a night indoors. The HRT was smooth and paved and flat and within a few miles came to Hickory Street which I jumped off the trail and rode the final mile to the hotel. My hotel was the old train station in downtown Scranton, and while it wasn’t a Grand Central or a Penn Station it was a Reading Lackawana station, and that was indeed impressive. It had housed a bank, as evidenced by the giant coat room that was an old safe with an 18 inch thick steel door. I found the lobby and checked in, got an excellent rate to an excellent room, and unpacked so I could clean up and get some dinner. Dinner was in the hotel bar, tended that evening by a very friendly bartender gal who made it a point to introduce herself, as well as the other people who were sitting around the bar. A local couple just out for a light meal and drink, another couple in from Minneapolis, and a few others who didn’t want to socialize. I spent a couple of hours there, consuming a couple of beers and a nice salad plus more pizza than I could eat, so pizza for breakfast!!

The next morning I set off for Hancock New York. At least that was generally how far I wanted to go, and would have to ride further to find a campsite. My immediate goal was to get back on the HRT, and stay on that as it bounces back and forth across the Lackawana River, until I could jump onto the D&O (Stands for I don’t know) trail which looked in theory like it would take me all the way to Hancock. Through downtown I rolled and after a short mile or two the HRT went from paved path to grassy raised bed which just wasn’t all that much fun to ride on, so I ditched it for a mile or two and then by the time I jumped back on it was back to a normal paved trail. I didn’t initially route for this, so I was always “Off Course” to RideWithGps so I had to keep stopping to see where the HRT actually went everytime it came to an end. This continued all the way to the point where I was able to jump onto the D&O. Now, someone in the bar the previous evening heard me mention the D&O and went out of his way to come over and say that “It’s a very nice trail” which really got my hopes up. This in spite of the guy reminding me of that train nut in Bang Bang Theory that ruin Amy’s romantic train excursion with Sheldon. Anyway, as soon as I got on the D&O i was like “What the fuck is this?”. The trail was full of potholes, muddy as fuck, and it felt awful to ride on, and then the kicker came in the form of a bunch of ATVs speeding along the trail doing more destruction. I was thinking “What the fuck are they doing on this trail? That isn’t right.” After a mile more of that shit, I pulled off to look at my map and to start planning an alternative when I pulled my right foot out of the cleat, and the bike leaned to the left and over I fell on some pretty chunky rock fill. After picking myself up from that embarassment I could see 20 yards off to the left of the D&O was a perfectly nice cindered trail with a sign that said “No FUCKING ATVs” and I knew what I was doing next.

It turns out I jumped onto the D&H trail, and indeed it had the signage to keep those fucking ATVs off it, and it was a pleasant trail to ride on. My demeanor improved immensly. However, though they ran parallel to each other at this point, they quickly diverged so that the D&O went more Northeasty, and the D&H went more Northy and the further I rode it the more “Off Course” I was getting, but until Mount Ararat, I didn’t really care. I would have to navigate on roads before that because going too far put a lot of wilderness and very little road options between me and Hancock. For the time being though I was happy, and after some time hit a town called Uniondale where there was a nice deli that catered often to riders, and they catered to me. I sat outside and chatted up some others who gave me the scoop on what lay ahead, and that further solidified my plans to get off the D&H and wind my way on gravel and open road the rest of the way.

I was pretty lucky because I passed a bunch of private driveways that crossed the trail, and maybe a few gravel roads when I came to stop to take a nature break, and looking at the map I saw that I missed my turn, but I could correct myself in a quarter mile, which I did. Even though there was a small bridge out, I was still able to get back on course, and soon found a reason why the D&O sucks. It’s because that trail is designated for ATVs and those terrain killers do a fine job of tearing up that terrain. So, even way up that far along the trail, and it was a holiday weekend still, there were ATVs out in force, so I just stayed on the main road over Ararat and then began the long twisty descent off the mountain to the Delaware proper, and Hancock. I arrived in Hancock around 4-5, and while I tried to call a couple of camp ground no one answered the phone, so rather than ride out there and not being able to get a spot, I pulled into Hancock House, and they gave me a great rate for the night, and up to the second floor I took my bike, and cleaned up and unpacked I became, and sitting on a barstool in the hotel bar I soon was sipping a delcious IPA and ordering a black bean burger for dinner. Sated I retreated for a walk about town, and then I turned in for another indoor night.

The next morning was once again cool, and I had an early breakfast and got on the road by 7:45. No more trail for a while, however because the “Interstate 17” that replaced the Older 17 was in place, I could still ride the “Old Rte 17” which, though pretty hilly, was a surprisingly vehicle free way to travel through. It follows the East Branch of the Delaware aka Beaver Kill all the way to Livingston Manor where old 17 comes to an end. However surprise surprise, there is signage there showing that my route is indeed an actual bike route, that follows the Willowmec River/Creek all the way into the Catskills. The Beaver Kill was really beautiful and there were many fly fishermen (and fisherwomen) in their waders and casting their lines. Caddis flies were in abbundance in the air, so I am guessing that is what the fish were eating as well. Before I got to Livingston Manor I passed through Roscoe where I saw a sign for a deli that I just couldn’t pass up. I got a sandwich to go and figured I would find a picnic table somewhere to enjoy it. That table never was spotted, and so when I saw a trailhead along the Willowmec I pulled off and scarfed down that sandwich, and the not-so-cold drink I purchased as well. Re-invigorated again, I set off. This was going to be the most climbing day of my entire trip as my destination was on the other side of the pass that divides Big Indian from the Slide Wilderness. What that destination was was still up in the air at this point. I hadn’t made any reservations anywhere, and there did seem to be a camping option on the descent from Slide. There was something on Google Maps called Upper Esopus Creekside Camp which via hipcamp app didn’t show all the rates available but only a large group rate which was out of the question for a campsite. The reviews were old as well leading one to think that maybe they weren’t in operation any longer. Google is a little behind on that sometimes.

Until I get over Slide, where to stay can remain a mystery. I had to get over Slide first, and I was still following the Willowemec Creek up the valley. From the route profile I knew that I would crest this valley and then drop into a gorge at the South end of Frost Valley where the final ascent will be made. Though the road I turned onto, Debruce Road, never really seemed like it changed at all, it became Willowemec Road, and finally Pole Road before it dropped off on a fast descent. Again, the West approach was gradual while the East side was dramatic and fast. The further up the road I got the fewer and fewer vehicles I saw, though never at any time was that number very large. It was a weekday and the Memorial Day weekend was officially over. As I passed Davidson’s General Store I mused that would probably be the last place to get anything that I would see again until I emerged out onto Route 28, if there would be anything there. I didn’t need anything and so I failed to stop in and kept riding. The gain in elevation on Pole was so gradual that when I got to the top, I didn’t realize it was the top until I saw the “Steep Descent” sign and I passed a small lake that had nothing but private residences around it.

At the bottom I had a super tight hard 170 degree left turn onto Frost Valley Road with the West Branch of the Neversink River, the main drainage of the Slide Mountain Wilderness (Along with the East Branch of course). From there I was in an area where the hillside, the road and river are quite tight and though the traffic was light, that didn’t stop a rental truck from driving with reckless abandon past me into a blind curve with me cursing the bastard driver. I pulled over to collect myself and take a little liquid and some more energy for the push on. Soon Frost Valley opened up and the Frost Valley YMCA came into view. It was early in the season and probably no one was there, but who knows maybe there was a Memorial Day group that had just left, however what I did see was that reckless rental truck driving down the driveway and now heading South. My guess is that this driver always drives this route with little to no regard for anyone else on the road. I continued on as the road began its ascent again. Soon the tree cover closed in, the Neversink shrunk to brook size, and the Biscuit parking area came and went and I knew that my climb was coming to an end soon. Not soon enough as the road really started to make some gains in elevation as the parking area for Slide Wilderness slipped past on my right and now the road was defined by steps, short steep ascents with a little shelf for recovery. I could see what looked like a “Club Entrance” come up and then this lake appeared at the top of the climb where the road curved off to the left to begin the plunge down the other side. I pulled off and observed some “Club Members” packing their cars up after the weekend to head home. It looked very exclusive and private.

Down the other side I plunged. The road lost elevation quickly, not all that much different from the last mile on the other side, however on this side, those plunges kept going as the road demonstrated that going the other way on a fully loaded bike would be quite the chore indeed. As the Full Moon Resort came into view, I decided to pull into the parking area to consider it. It was right there on the road, and it looked pretty nice, but I decided that it was probably too much for me and I moved on. The next place, not terribly much further down the road was The Urban Cowboy Lodge. Ralph’s Bar and Bowling caught my eye as a potential place to eat with a bar so I pulled a left and rode up the hill to the lodge proper where it seemed pretty empty of vehicles. It was post holiday weekend so maybe they had some vacancies. It wouldn’t hurt to ask. I parked and strode up the stairs and through the front door. To the right was a small dais where they did check in, to my left a large open sitting area with a fire going in the fireplace, and directly in front of me was a small bar with a bartender who noticed my arrival and offered me a glass of water. I replied that what I really wanted was a beer though before we got to that I wanted to see what the young gentleman and lady taking care of arrivals would do for me. “What can you do for a cheap SOB who just rode 80 miles on his bike from Hancock and doesn’t want to ride any further?” Surprisingly the young man was able to do quite a lot. He offered me their lowest rate for their cheapest room which was $95 plus taxes and such. “Sold! I’ll take that beer I said to the bartender” and soon I was drinking a nice cold local craft IPA. Yum. I took care of the check in and then I was told that they would lead me on a tour and show me my room. “Let’s go” and I left everything there. On the walk over the young man informed me that since they are almost empty of folks this evening he was upgrading me to a better room at no extra charge. “Thank You” and as we approached the building I could see that the windows were all two way mirrors, reflection on the outside allowing people to see out from their rooms but protecting their privacy until the sun went down. We entered the room and my jaw dropped. Hand printed wall paper, a claw foot tub under the two way mirror window with a fantastic view looking out over the property. A giant bed, as well as a private porch next to the bathroom. After closing my gaping jaw I thanked my hosts again for the great deal and together we walked back to the main lodge where I retrieved my bike so I coiuld get into my room and get cleaned up.

When I stepped into the bathroom to take my shower that is when I realized the floor was heated. It felt so comforting to my acheing feet that I could have stood there for 10 minutes, but I wanted to get cleaned up and figure out my dinner plans. Cleaned up and dressed I returned to the lodge to have another beer and see what the menu looked like and ask about Ralph’s at the end of the road. Well Ralph’s doesn’t open for a couple more weeks, so it was either dinner from the kitchen, or eat one of my dehydrated meals. The menu didn’t offer anything that was Vegan, and so I simply ordered some fries to have with my beer, and I would do a dehydrated meal in my room. As I was drinking my beer, Eric the bartender came over and told me he had a talk with the chef and the chef would make something just for me if I wanted. That offer was almost too good to pass up, but pass it up I did, and returned to my room to grab some things to take down to the outdoor fire pit where I heated some water and made my meal. This was a hole in one decision and I decided then and there that I would have to come back and give this place a proper weekend paying the rate while taking in the local hiking options. I will do that this coming winter.

Next morning I got an early start and descended Oliverea Road all the way to Route 28 where I crossed the highway and proceeded on a smaller parallel road that followed the creek a little closer. While 28 had a decently wide shoulder and is a NY designated bike route, I wanted quieter until I had no choice but to ride 28. That turned out to be Shendaken and there I followed Rt 28 as it wound its way out of the Catskills past towns like Alleben and Phonecia. The further along I got the heavier the following traffic became until I reached the point where 28A branched off to the South to navigate the Western/Southern shoreline of Ashokan Reservoir. There is a fairly large project in progress there to replace the bridge (done) and re-engineer how to get access to the Ashokan Rail Trail (not done) so it took a little bit of figuring out, but eventually I found the parking entrance for the ART and soon I was motoring along in the quiet shade of the canopy (it was very cool) as chipmunks made suicide runs across the path in front of me. “I am not going very fast, so if you critters want to live you need to stop that!” I told them. The Ashokan is a large body of water that Jed once confused for the Hudson River when we were looking out over the area from Overlook Mountain. I cut Jed some slack on that identification and we joke about it a lot now. Nearing the final miles on the ART the tree cover gives way to an open causeway that offers up tremendous views of the lake and the surrounding mountains all of which are well known, Wittenberg, Cornell, Friday, Slide etc. After Shokan I was routed onto some side roads but eventually I was back on 28 when I saw a bakery and stopped in for a couple of scones. It wasn’t much of a place, I think they mostly rely on deliveries but have a small retail room where I bought my scones. After eating I noticed that my rear tire was soft and this worried me. Did I have sealant in these tires? I didn’t think so, and I didn’t have a spare. I looked at the map and Kingston was right down the road and there was a bike shop about to open soon so i set my GPS and bee-lined my way there and sat outside for about 5 minutes before the owner came and opened the shop. He took me right in, I dropped my bags and he put the bike up on the stand. “There is no sealant in these tires” he told me so I asked him to make them right please. I just assumed they came with sealant and since buying the bike I hadn’t really gotten to “know” it personally yet. While he worked on my bike I looked around and the shop was small and looked to not really cater to trying to stay in the front with bike sales. It looked like service and niche items were the point of this shop as he appeared to be a Brooks dealer and had a fair amount of their stuff for the “Old School” in all of us that have been through the Old School.

I paid up and got on with my trip and soon found The Empire State Trail as I left town on Route 32. The EST exits Kingston via the Walkill River Trail in this area, an old rail trail that has benefited this central NY area for decades and runs down through New Paltz where it is a central part of the tranportation scheme of the town. Before it gets to New Paltz though it winds its way back to the West side of the Thruway where it passes through a natural air conditioned section where 3 or 4 open caverns surround the trail dropping the temperature by about 10 degrees easily. It doesn’t last long but it is effective. I wondered how effective it would be on one of those dog days of summer, but I suspected it would be quite a nice feeling to walk through there. After that it was fairly uneventful until I pulled into New Paltz and though the Walkill continues South the EST hangs a left and navigates a local section over a couple of hills on its way to the Hudson River Walkway. Before that however I needed food as the scone energy was wearing off and I was starving. I diverted on Millrock over to Main St where I found Main Course however when I walked in the lights were all off because of a power failure in the area. They weren’t really taking any orders that required food prep so I could only take what was prepared already in their refridgerated display cases. I found something I could eat and something to drink and managed to pay after the slowest patron in the world wrote a check to pay for her food. A check! Who uses checks any more? Well I guess she did, and while time elapsed well beyond the ten minute mark for the entire transaction I was going through my own trials as I needed to get calories into me ASAP.

Outside I did just that and then swung my leg over the bike and proceded back to the EST where I soon found myself on the access trail to the Hudson River Walkway. If you are unfamiliar with it, then go check it out. Before the new Tappan Zee replacement, I would list this walkway as the number 1 place to get a great vista of the Hudson River Valley. Like the Tappan Zee there are food and drinks at both ends. The main difference between the crossings is that the HRW is open and the TZ has a see-thru protective wall against jumpers. Anyway the ride down to the walkway was reasonably uneventful and once across it wasn’t apparent to me that I was gaining elevation but I was. That is the beauty of the rail trail. You may have to pedal all the time, but at least it’s a clear and steady ridable grade with no real traffic. It’s called the Dutchess Trail on the East side and as I was riding along there were two things I noticed. 1) There were a significant number of Tick Warning signs along the route while the trail itself had a fair amount of vegetative high grass and weeds along it, thus discouraging me from wandering off the trail to pee nor making it a likely camping site. 2) I marvelled at the engineering of the embankment which rose more than 50′ above the forest floor in many places. That is a lot of fill material hauled in to create it and while I was admiring it I happen to notice a Bard Owl perched back in the wood visible only because the foliage had yet to fully come in yet. I was able to stop and position myself to get a couple of shots before it flew off further into the wood.

I was starting to worry about where I would stay that night as the Tick signs had been noted, and I knew Brewster wasn’t much of a town to stay in, and everything else that had even a notion of a possibility was far off the trail. The EST needs more infrastructure along it, but until that happens, we just have to make do and with rain coming on I decided that The Curry Estate in the greater East Fishkill area would have to work for me. It wasn’t that far off the trail and it was the closest place if I wanted to escape the weather that was blowing in. I didn’t get the deal the Urban Cowboy gave me, but it wasn’t too bad and I took it. They had a basement bar which is my kind of bar, and so I cleaned up quickly to go check it out. When I walked into the SS Beverly Bar the bartender (female) asked me if I was there for the “reading” which I didn’t have a clue as to what that meant so I answered “No, I just want to sit at the bar and have a couple of beers” to which I was told that would be fine unless they needed my seat since everyone that was coming had paid to be there. I agreed and settled into a nice IPA. The only other patrons in the place were a mother/daughter pair but as I sat there more women started to show up. Only women. As I sat there, the place filled up with nothing but women and me being the only testosterone-based life form it felt very weird. That is when I realized that the “Reader” was a Psychic and all these women were here for a f’n psychic. I am sure they were all in for an entertaining evening, so no judgement by me. As 7 PM neared, the arrival time, I decided I didn’t need to be there and went back to my room to eat another dehydrated meal.

I was in touch with my friend John Lewer who rode up to his mother’s house in Yonkers. The plan was I would text him when I started and at some point he would meet me on the way down. We had flirted a little with the idea of just riding as far as Yonkers and then finish up the next day, but I think by the time I was riding I was ready to be home again. The legs felt pretty decent, I got an early start and I am not sure what the forecast was for the next day, but I think rain was called for and that all drove me to finish up in one big ride home. As mentioned, the legs were good and so a final big day on the bike was in the cards. I was delayed slightly by an open gate that revealed a very simple cemetery on the other side. There were no warning signs or keep out signs so I went in and found that it was a prisoner cemetery and that would mean I was on prison property and probably should leave. The gate was open. Soon after I rode past the prison complex proper and continued on what was left of the ascent to get around this looming structure after which the trail heads mostly South to Brewster. Once over the top I really started to fly along as there was also a tailwind. I passed the lake where I thought I might be able to camp the night prior and while that might have been a real possibility, there was just enough over-grown vegetation along the tick warning signs that had me convinced that camping would have come with some risks. After another hour I pulled into Brewster where I found a local market where I could get some sustenance before carrying on.

The trail turns from the Dutchess Trail to the Putnam Trail though the two aren’t connected except by hilly local roads. The Putnam Railroad lost some of its early infrastructure as well and so once on the Putnam Trail it was clear this trail would have some hard transitions at road crossings. I was making pretty good time and I needed to leave John some time to finish his ride and head North so when I got to Millwood I saw a deli and decided to stop for a sandwich and a drink. This would be the food that would get me the rest of the way home. I took my time eating it and sat outside in front of the deli taking in the sun that was finally starting to shine a bit.

Back on the trail I ran into John along the trail where it ran betwen the Taconic and the Saw Mill and together we rode South, I was happy to have some company for this section of the trip. I told John that Yonkers was out and we set our sights on Pier 11. As we approached White Plains Road I realized that the Empire State Trail had managed to acquire and route behind an industrial complex that had been a barrier in the South County Trail that forced riders out onto 9A, which was very cyclist unfriendly and a very busy road. So, the trail went straight through to White Plains Road where it doesn’t have an easy crossing but it isn’t difficult to figure out. This is also the part of the SCT where as a member of the Two River Cycling Club we would hang a right when doing our annual Juneteenth ride. This Southern portion of the SCT was well known to me, and to John since he grew up in Yonkers. All along the route John pointed out places that had a story associated with them, and how he and his friends had done this and that over there and over there. Soon we were riding past The Birdhouse Project, a project started by someone and joined in by many, where for about a mile people had erected a number of unique birdhouses along the trail and in the area off the trail. Some simple, some elaborate, and I am guessing all effective. I don’t know. It looked nice to my eye at least.

We stopped at mile marker 0, the entrance to Van Cortland Park where the trail suddenly gets a lot narrower and enters the New York City boro of The Bronx. Fortunately it was a weekday and the pedestrian load on the pathway was low so John and I didn’t have any problems getting through all that and emerged into VCP traditionally park-like setting up around Broadway and Van Courtland Park South. This is where I kind of wanted to find an alternative route into Manhattan than simply straight down Broadway. Straight down Broadway is certainly the shorter flatter route however it comes with all the lighs and traffic that is complicated by the elevated subway and the double parking, and besides, the Empire State Trail doesn’t go that way and I wanted to see what that way was. It was hilly so we started to climb byt then the signage got very dodgy and to be honest I think we lost the EST and eventually just ended up back on Broadway where we stayed until we crossed the East River into Manhattan. On 218th we turned right and rode to Inwood Park where I had been hoping to get around the North side but it looked very hilly and my load was very heavy and it was a big day and I wanted an easier way. John suggested we work our way to Dyckman where we could pick up the trail south and that is what we tried. First mistake is that there are 2 trails accessible from Dyckman and we got on the wrong one first. It deadended with the way forward on large chunky rocks that basically said “Don’t go this way” and so we back tracked to find the other trail option was closed due to maintenance and there was no way through. So we had to navigate around Fort Tryon Park (very hilly) and eventually up onto Fort Washington Ave which we rode South past the GW and down good old Broadway again where we used 158th street to get onto the Hudson Greenway. From there it was the HG all the way south past familiar landmarks like the Passenger Liner piers and then the Intrepid Museum and Chelsea Piers until finally the Freedom Tower came into full view. It is a spectacular building. We continued on and around through Battery Park emerging on the East side by the Staten Island Ferry terminals and finally Pier 11.

We were early for the ferry and took our places 1 and 2 to start the line for the next one that would come through. I picked up a beer from the magazine stand and enjoyed that as we awaited, observing the comings and goings of the Lower NY ferry crowds. Ferries are an integral component of the MTA and people use them a lot in conjuction with scooters and bikes. There are at least 7 different ferry runs that dock at Pier 11 and that doesn’t count the Staten Island Ferry which docks just to the South. At least half of them handle traffic back and forth to various ports in Brooklyn and Long Island City. The rest go to various Jersey ports. The giant Commodore eventually arrived and we embarked for the 55 minute ride. On this day, we would hit Atlantic Highlands first, and then the Highlands. I let John talk me into disembarking at Atlantic Highlands and instead of riding to Highlands, I elected to follow John to his home in Rumson, 1) to say hello to Shelby, and 2) simply for a break. Before this day ended it would be 108 miles on the day, and 3 days prior I wasn’t even sure I would make it through the Catskills. There was just one consideration I had made about our route to Rumson. We were on a commuter boat, and while it was one of the earlier departures it still had a lot of commuters on it. What do commuters do when they get to their home port? They get in their cars if parked there, or someone is there to pick them up. The point being that a fair portion of those on the boat were also on their way to Rumson, and that made for a stressful ride as these commuters couldn’t give a rats ass for any cyclist adding to their final leg home. The number of boneheads was beyond what could be counted using my fingers, and it wasn’t until I was over the Oceanic Bridge that I finally felt like I could relax a little bit.

We found Shelby in the kitchen, I think she had some leftover pizza in the fridge which she offered up. I think I was feeling a little calorie starved when we arrived and one or two slices put something where something was needed. After 20 minutes of chat I knew it was time to leave. Those final miles wouldn’t ride themselves, and I was ready to end my day. The rest of the journey was an afterthought, and before I knew it I stood in front of my garage depressing the app icon to open the pod bay doors. Five hundred miles lay behind me, and 20 feet lay ahead. I laid my bike against the trash containers, and simply went inside. I had cleaned the place before I left, so it was still clean when I returned and you cannot underestimate the value of that. I showered and put on the first different clothes I could find ending an 8 day run in the clothing I had on the bike. Refreshed, I ordered my own pizza from Iliano’s across the street. I still had a couple of IPAs in the garage fridge. I enjoyed a nice meal and then never dreamed it would take me this long to publish this account of those final days. I was held up by the media, which I wanted to expand my video capabilities, but I just kept getting distracted. I can’t publish anything with respect to the real Bike About that occurred after that until I publish this. So here it is. In answer to the question “Would I do this again?” that answer is “In a second!”

• Day 4 Strava Instagram Relive.cc – Jim Thorpe Pa to Scranton Pa
• Day 5 Strava Instagram Relive.cc – Scranton Pa to Hancock NY
• Day 6 Strava Instagram Relive.cc – Hancock NY to Urban Cowboy Resort
• Day 7 Strava Instagram Relive.cc – Urban Cowboy Resort to Curry Estate
• Day 8A Strava Instagram Relive.cc – Curry Estate to Pier 11
• Day 8B Strava Relive.cc – Atlantic Highlands to Home

Tagged: Bicycle Touring, Bikepacking, biking, Cycling, Travel