Adirondack Loop Stories - Stick a Fork in Me, I'm Done

"That which does not kill me, makes me stronger." - Nietzsche -

After the ride I had just endured, this quote wasn't exactly running true in my head. I was hot - tired - hurting - discouraged. I was at the end of my rope and there was no ledge upon which to place my feet.

This was only the second day of my tour. I still had a lot more miles to cover and mountains to climb. As I lay there, I had no idea how I was going to do it. In fact, I wasn't even trying to figure it out. The only thing I could think about was how to get back to my car, which was parked some 110 miles away. I can honestly say, at this, the lowest point (emotionally) of my tour, if I could have surmised a way, I would have quit right then and there.

I glanced over at my bike and uttered aloud, "if you were a horse, I'd shoot you!".

Adirondack Loop - Preparation

My gear is gathered...

My bags are packed...

My bike is clean...

All is ready for my week long tour around the Adirondacks of upstate New York which begins this coming weekend...

Heaven's Length

I have it on good authority (mine), that Heaven is at least 42 miles in length. Trust me - I know - I've ridden it.

It was the last day of a recent weekend mini-tour. Two days earlier, I rode from my home and had been riding and camping since.

My final night was spent at Chickahominy Riverfront Park. It was a beautiful camp sight overlooking the river

I was treated to a marvelous sunset.


The evening proved to be quite windy and cold. After burning what little firewood I had, I crawled in my tent and slept in relative (I use this term loosely) comfort. I awoke the next morning to nature's call, which I ignored for as long as I dared and then crawled out of my sleeping bag cocoon to face the raw cold.

For cooking on this trip, I chose to take along my Trangia alcohol burning stove.

I bought this stove late last Spring and used it to great effect several times this summer. I fell in love with it's simplicity and functionality. This was the first time I used it on a freezing, gusty, winter morning. The wind and cold combined to dampen my enthusiasm for it's functionality. I arranged my panniers as a make shift wind break and still had to fill the bowl twice in order to boil a single kettle of water. It was a frigid, if not thoroughly frustrating exercise.

After finally warming up with several cups of coffee, I decided to skip trying to cook breakfast. So I packed up and got an early start.

For the last day and a half, I had been heading predominantly North the entire time and, seeing how I chose to start my final bike tour of the year just as the first cold front of the season blew through the area, had a stiff headwind the whole time.

Since I was taking a circuitous route, it was only a matter of time before I would head South. The final day of my mini-tour was that time. I rode to Jamestown, crossed the ferry and then traversed the counties of Surry and Isle if Wight to Smithfield.

The skies were clear...

The sun shone bright...

The traffic was next to non-existence...

The country roads were peaceful and pristine...

The fields were freshly harvested and settling down for a long winters nap...

Does it get any better than that? You bet it does. I rode a total of 42 Miles that day and had the pleasure of a stiff TAILWIND the entire time. Pedaling was almost effortless. With such a tailwind I could have flown down the road, but instead chose to use it to maintain my normal speed with less effort. I was in Heaven and not knowing it's width or breadth, I was in no hurry to happen upon it's boundary.

Vacation and Bike Tour Dreams

My wife and I, along with 3 other couples, spent last week on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. We rented a 3 story, 7 bedroom, 9 bathroom home, complete with pool and hot tub. We were right on the beach. It was a gorgeous house. The weather was perfect. We all had a great time.

I digress, for this blog is not about my non-bike related activities. I did take my road bike along for the week. Unfortunately, it stayed in the truck the majority of the time. However, all was not lost for I was able to get out for one ride. Bob, Buck, Ray and I took a 15 mile round trip to the Currituck Light House.

Atop the lighthouse, as I leaned against the rail, enjoying the breathtaking view...


...an idea began to percolate in my mind. Along the Outer Banks of North Carolina are 5 light houses:

Currituck

Bodie Island

Cape Hatteras

Ocracoke Island

Cape Lookout

Wouldn't it be cool to start where I am right now and do a 3 or 4 day tour along the Outer Banks and visit each of these light houses, while camping on the beach along the way? Now that's a great idea. Stay tuned - I got a sneaky feeling that "Tour de Lighthouse" just might be in my future next spring.

GRT - Let's Get In

Let's get in... Those were the words that Ray uttered as we stood on the bank, enjoying the view on our final day. We were less than 5 miles from the end of the trail. In line with my tentative schedule, were were on track to arrive in the parking lot at 11 am, for the loading of the truck and the 4-1/2 hour drive home.

Ray, just 2 days earlier, was speeding along the trail intent on arriving "at the destination". Well he caught onto this touring thing pretty quick. He grasped the fact that bike touring isn't as much about "where you are going", than "where you are".

Let's get in... Right then and there, Ray wanted to put the ride on hold and get in the water. A hoard of reasons not to ran through my engineering mind in an instant.


- We only have a few miles to go.

- I don't really have any swimming clothes to change in to.

- We have a 4-1/2 hour drive to get home.

- We have a schedule to keep.

- If I get on my Brookes saddle all wet I could damage it.

- What will riding all wet do to proper butt care?

My logical mind wanted to protest, but strangely enough, I found myself taking off my shirt. The next thing you know, we were laid back in the middle of the river.

The water was perfect. The sky was a beautiful, clear blue. We were surrounded by breathtaking mountains.

We frolicked around in the water like kids for 30 minutes. I can honestly say, it was the best 30 minutes of bike touring that I've had the pleasure of enjoying in my life.

Thanks Ray for those 3 simple words, "let's get in."

GRT - Eating Like Kings

When I tour alone, I try to keep things light and simple. That philosophy extends even to my meals. In fact, my ideal menu consist of packing the Mini Trangia stove and food that necessitates nothing more than boiling water.

With this being Ray and Buck's first tour, I wanted to leave a good taste in their mouths (pun intended). As a result, my panniers were loaded to the brim with "real" food and we indeed - feasted like kings:

Friday Dinner - Spaghetti with pepperoni (garnished with red pepper flakes and Parmesan cheese). Garlic and cheese biscuits. Apple cobbler. Coffee.

Saturday Breakfast - Breakfast Burritos (eggs, pepper, onions, cheese and Spanish rice), Coffee.

Saturday Dinner - Chicken Jambalaya (with Tabasco hot sauce). Corn bread. Crumb cake was also on the menu, but we were too full to bother cooking it. Coffee.

Sunday Breakfast - Pancakes. Coffee.

I was a bit disappointed that our mutual friend, Bob, wasn't able to make the trip, I had a special meal prepared for him.

Don't worry Bob - I'll save it for next time.

GRT - Perfecto Weather

I've done numerous bike tours over the years, ranging from a long weekend to a full week. During that time, I've experienced a broad spectrum of weather conditions. In fact one time, I took a 4 day road trip in which 2 of the days were in literally hurricane conditions. That story is too long for the likes of a blog post. Buy me a beer sometimes and I'll be glad to tell you the story.

Yet in all the bike tours I've had the pleasure of taking, the weather for our weekend ride on the Greenbrier River Trail, was hands down the absolute best.

The humidity was low.

The winds were mild.

The skies were clear with not a drop of rain falling along the entire eastern seaboard.

The highs during the day were the upper 70's - perfect for riding.

The lows at night were in the upper 50's - perfect for sleeping. Perfect that is unless you're Ray and Buck who decided to ignore my sage advice and fore go a sleeping bag. Their bedding consisted of something akin to Grandma's shawl.

Given the awesomeness of the weather - I suspect Ray and Buck have been lulled into thinking that all bike tours are like this. I didn't have the heart to tell them different. If they keep riding, they'll discover the truth eventually. I just hope that when the weather forecast is calling for a hurricane moving up the East coast - they have enough sense to stay home - I wish I had!

GRT - Beerless

On the first night of our trip, as I mentioned in an earlier post, I was aiming for a campsite that was completely remote. I managed to accomplish just that.

It wasn't until we were unpacked and the camp set up that I came to the realization of a serious tactical error. When we went through the last town, some 5 miles back, I failed to pick up any beer. For those of you who have followed this blog for any length of time, I know you think I'm pulling your leg. I can assure you that I may joke about a lot of things, but never when it concerns beer.

A small saving grace in this utterly despicable situation is that I managed to tuck into my panniers a couple of beers from the night before. They were warm, but given my current plight, the best beer on the planet.

As I finished the second and final beer is when the relationship between myself and my fellow touring companions was strained for the first and only time on this tour. I calmly asked if they would be willing to ride to the nearest town and buy me some more. A request that they simultaneously and summarily rejected as ludicrous.

- Never mind that I had spent the last two weeks planning out every detail of this tour.

- Forget the fact that I bought and prepared all the food.

- So what that I helped them each select the proper bikes and outfitted those bikes with MY racks and panniers.

- Who cares that I had brought all of my vast experience and resources to bare so that they might have an awesome, trouble free weekend.

I uttered no complaint, all my efforts were but a labor of love. Now I make but one simple request of them and they trample it under foot with a reckless disregard for my selfless sacrifices.

The degree of their self centered attitude was truly manifested the following morning when a scant 3 miles down the trail we happened upon this establishment.

For the normal person, the pang of guilt upon such a discovery would have been incapacitating. However, Ray and Buck are obviously not normal people, cause despite my protest and eloquent articulation of their self-centered, shameful behavior, they displayed not a morsel of remorse.

A lesser man than I would have let spite eat away at the essence of who they are, but I chose on the other hand to use that negative energy for good. I spent the predominance of the remainder of that tour pedaling and mulling over in my mind an idea for an "instant beer". A concentrate of sorts that by simply adding water could be converted into that most lovely beverage among beverages - beer. I'll save the details for that idea for another post. Suffice it to say for now, I think I'm on the cusp of discovering something that will not only make me independently wealthy, but even more importantly, will be my contribution to the betterment of mankind. My legacy.

To think that this awesome gift to mankind was born because a humble, simple and selfless man (i.e. ME) refused to let the self centered act of his companions (i.e. Ray and Bob) make him bitter, but instead make him better. As a result future generations of mankind, no matter where they find themselves will be able to enjoy the unbridled ecstasy of GOOD beer.

GRT - In Camp

"A bike tour" represents so much more than just a bike ride. It encompasses riding, observing the surroundings, experiencing new things, meeting different people, battling the elements, separation from modern amenities and surviving solely on the stuff you bring along (including your ingenuity).

Camping is a part of the whole experience that I've come to enjoy as much as the riding. Good thing because the fact of the matter is, one spends more time in camp, than on the bike. My goal for this trip was to avoid public campgrounds with all their modern conveniences like electricity and running water. I wanted us to camp in the most remote areas possible. The Greenbrier River Trail accommodated that goal quite well in that they have primitive sites set up along the way. Those primitive sites consist of a picnic table, latrine, tent pad and if your lucky, a hand water pump.

Toward the end of our first day, we arrived in the town of Marlinton with the tentative plan to camp at the Marlinton Municipal Park. While the camping area was located toward the back of the park, it was still - way too urban for me. We pressed on another 5 miles or so to this jewel.

Remote - quiet - primitive - no electricity - no cell phone signal (yea) - no wireless internet (yea)- no water (darn) - perfect - except for the fact that they had no water (darn).

Once in camp, we are occupied with an assortment of activities:

Unloading our beasts of burden...

Setting up our tents...

Cooking...

Taking care of the call of nature...

Yet in the midst of all this bustling activity, as the sun sets, there's always time to relax by the soothing sound and glow of a campfire...

GRT - Current Pedal Stroke

This past weekend a couple friends of mine (Ray and Buck) and I rode the Greenbrier River Trail. This a beautiful "rail to trail" nestled in the mountains of eastern West Virginia. We parked my truck at the southern end of the trail near Caldwell and arranged for Chuck, owner of Appalachian Sport, to shuttle us to the northern end of the trail at Cass to begin our slow trek southward.

At least I thought it was going to be a slow trek southward. This was my companion's first bike tour and they were focused intently on getting to our destination. As a result, much of the first day my view of them was such...

While I was left to...

My companions, at least initially, failed to realize that on a bike tour, "your current pedal stroke is the best place to be".

Life is Like Riding Through A Tunnel

Sometimes, life is like riding a bike through a tunnel. It is dark and lonely and cold and frightening.

Turning around is not an option, cause it's just as dark behind you.

Stopping is not an option cause then the darkness just closes in around you.

You really only have one choice, point your handlebars toward the small light at the end and keep pedaling. Before you know it, you're leaving the darkness behind and riding back into the glorious warmth of the light. Funny thing is once you find yourself back in the light of day and you turn around and look back at where you been, the tunnel doesn't seem near as dark or long or imposing.

My First S24O

About a month ago, I came home from work on a Friday, threw a few things on my Cargo Bike and rode off to Sandy Bottom Nature Park. It was a mere 3 mile ride from my house that I covered in exactly 15 minutes.

I set up camp.
I rode to a nearby grocery store for beer and ice and then skipped over to a Mexican restaurant next door for chips and salsa.

I spent the rest of the evening chillin on TOP of the picnic table (namely cause Sandy Bottom has the highest population of canebrake rattlers than anywhere in Hampton Roads), drinking my beer, eating my chips and feeding wood into the fire.
Just As I was about to head over to the tent for bed, a nearby camper came sauntering over. He said hi and handed me what he categorized as his own patented version of a tent bottle. He then bid me goodnight and walked away. It was a 2-liter bottle with a hole strategically cut on one side, towards the top.
Most people would have found this gesture to be rather disgusting, but I thought it an act of kindness on the part of a stranger. It's encounters like this one that remind me that there is still a lot of good in the world.

With tent bottle in hand, I climbed in my tent, turned on the IPOD touch and read a few minutes. That night, I slept like a baby.

The next morning, I brewed a pot of coffee, sat back on TOP of the picnic table (don't forget the snakes), drank a few cups and then started packing my gear.
I was back home by 8:30 Saturday morning. My first "sub-24 hour overnight" (S24O)bike/camping trip was in the books.

The following Monday, when I mentioned my mini adventure to my co-workers, they looked at me rather puzzled and for the life of them couldn't understand why a grown man would jump on his bike, ride 3 miles and camp. They thought me strange indeed. From my perspective - I was on my bike - off the grid - completely self sufficient - with plenty of cold beer, chips and salsa and the proud, new owner of my very own tent bottle. That's Living!!!!

Remnants of Days Gone By

Riding solo on the New River Trail gave me plenty of time to think. My thoughts wandered in time to the trail's earlier days. To before it was a bike trail. To the back breaking work of chiseling out these mountains to make a level foundation upon which to lay the tracks. I found myself imagining the times when trains lumbered through these mountains and along this river. I put myself in the Engineer's seat, leaning out the window of his engine,riding along with his own thoughts. Letting the wind blow in his face. Drinking in the beauty of the surrounding wilderness. Lucky for me, the beauty that beset that Engineer's eyes many years ago, has not faded.The physical evidence of the railroad are largely gone now; largely, but not entirely. As I rode along, I happened upon remnants of those days gone by, to subsidize the images in my imagination.As I chugged along under my own powerand my thoughts wandered, I could have sworn that a time or two, the deep silence of the forest around me was interrupted by a faint, almost indiscernible whistle. It wasn't a new sound, but instead one that had been emitted generations before, but it's echo still lingered.