Sunday, 03 September 2006

Boston (Massachusetts) over the pond to Over (Cambridgeshire, UK)

By Sunday morning the remains of Hurricane Ernesto had arrived and it was pouring with rain. It rained all morning, so I stayed in and finalised my packing. I said my goodbyes and thanks for a very pleasant stay before David very kindly drove me to the airport. With all the mist and rain it was impossible even to see planes taxing or taking off; I hoped the air traffic controllers were on top of their game today. I had no help or sympathy here with my large bike-box and had to queue up like everyone else and negotiate the zig-zag of barriers at check-in. I had to stand the bike-box up on end to fit between the cordons which meant I couldn’t see where I was going and kept bumping into the lady in front. (Sorry) (Sorry) (Sorry)

Once I was checked in, I went for something to eat before going through security, which wasn’t as painful as I thought it might be. The flight back was uneventful and I arrived to a pleasant, sunny Monday in Heathrow.

At one and the same time it was both sad and a relief to be at the end of my travels. It was a relief to be able to look forward to staying in one place for a little while and have a rest, but I wonder how soon I will get itchy feet once again. Have I learned anything from my journey? About myself? Probably not! At least nothing I didn’t already know. I certainly learned a bit about the places I travelled, mostly Newfoundland. I travelled to some great places, saw some great things, but most of all, met some great people. If the world was ruled by people who didn’t want power the world would be a far better place.

Saturday, 02 September 2006

Boston (Massachusetts)

I had been made very welcome by David, Lucy and Charlotte. It was that perfect combination of being looked after but not fussed over. Unfortunately I didn’t get to meet Dan as he had left on Thursday to go to college, but it did mean that I got to stay in his bedroom. Before I had arrived I had asked about bike shops where I might be able to get hold of a bike-box, and very thoughtfully they had already got hold of a bike box for me. I spent the first part of the morning making sure that I could get the bike in; it was a slightly smaller box than I had travelled out with as it was for a 16 inch frame bike, but with a little extra dismantling (taking the front forks off) I could squeeze it in and pack out the rest of the box with everything else.

In the afternoon I went out to do some shopping (buying those things that are half the price, or less, of what they cost in the UK) and then went to the Museum of Fine Arts which has large and diverse collections on display. I could easily have spent much more time there.

Friday, 01 September 2006

Friday, 01 September 2006
Ashby to Boston (Massachusetts)

It was dark under the trees but I was in no rush as I figured that I only had about 40-45 miles to go to Boston. I was packed and ready to go by about 8:30 and as far as I could tell under the coniferous canopy it was a nice day overhead. I threw away my cycling water-bottle as it had sprung a leak and I was hoping that it would be the only puncture of the day- and the whole trip! (I can definitely endorse Specialized Armadillo tyres.)

I cycled back to the SR 119 and just a couple of miles into Townsend where I stopped at Chris’s Café for breakfast. When I started this trip, and people would ask me where I was cycling from and to, it wasn’t very impressive as I hadn’t travelled very far. By the time I got to Newfoundland, Labrador or Quebec it was much more impressive. But now, as I get near to Boston again and people ask where I have cycled from, it doesn’t sound too impressive to say Boston – it’s not that far and I feel compelled to explain that I’ve been via New England, Nova Scotia, Newfoundland, Labrador, Quebec and Montreal. I hope more to fan the flames of conversation rather than to bask in the supposed glory of a Herculean effort. It’s certainly been an adventure. (I did have one person who was amazed I was cycling all the way to Boston today!)

By the time I’d finished breakfast the library was open (10 am) and now that I was pretty certain of arriving in Boston today I could start to organise my return to the UK – changing flight and arranging transport from the airport. As I was cycling out of Townsend in the sun I nearly fell victim to the ‘car driver opening the without looking’ type of accident, but luckily I was going slow enough to swerve around – I couldn’t have stopped in time.

I was quite fortunate to be finishing my trip today as it’s a long weekend in the States – Monday is the Labor Day Holiday, which means that the roads and possibly the campgrounds will be busy. Also, with the tail end of Hurricane Ernesto heading this way, the weather forecast isn’t too good. The roads already seemed quite busy to me, perhaps with people starting the weekend early or perhaps just because I was so close to Boston.

I cycled through Groton and crossed the I-98 before detouring onto the SR 225 which was quiet and pleasant – until something hard and heavy hit me on the head as I cycled along under the trees. It seemed to fall straight down out of the trees, but clunked like a stone. What is a stone doing falling out of a tree? A cycling helmet is often an annoyance, but I was glad of it now. I was beginning to think that my last day was jinxed and might really be my last day so I resolved to concentrate and take special care for the rest of the day.

At Bedford I could cycle on the Minuteman Trail – a “Rails to Trails” project that would take me 10 miles into the Cambridge area of Boston – just where I needed to get to as Lucy and David live in Cambridge. The trail was busy with pedestrians, skaters and other cyclists and was a pleasant easy cycle as far as ‘Alewife’ in North Cambridge. As soon as I stopped and pulled out my map to figure out my next move, two separate cyclists converged on me to ask if I needed any help. Of course, I did. Being America, Cambridge is not quite the leafy suburb you might imagine – at least not all of it. One of the cyclists led me through a labyrinth of cycle paths to a bridge that would lead me to Concord Avenue, my first landmark. Once on Concord Avenue I simply asked at a gas station for directions to Walden Street, and still nearly went wrong at a point where Concord Avenue branches at a rotary (roundabout). For a country so big, the street name signs are often inconspicuous or absent. Once back on track I found Walden Street and David and Lucy’s house, the end of my cycling odyssey.

Distance: 45.1 miles
Cycling time: 4:02
Total distance: 4560.0 miles (7341.6 kilometres)

Thursday, 31 August 2006

Harmonyville (Vermont) to Ashby (Massachusetts)

Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me...

It had been a lovely clear evening with a pinkish sunset, so the temperature had dropped and it was a cool night. Here the sunsets and sunrises were even earlier and later because of the hills all around. I had a bit of a birthday lie-in then dried the flysheet in the sun while packing up the bike and then set off at about 8:30. Already it was nice and warm in the sun but chilly when cycling in the shade of the trees or hills.

From Harmonyville I cycled south on SR 30 the 17 miles to Brattleboro. I wasn't leaving town without a breakfast inside me. I would never had found the charmingly named Backside Cafe without asking for directions, but dammit it was MY birthday and I wanted breakfast! Afterwards I went to the library to see if I could find any campsites along my planned route through New Hampshire and into Massachusetts. There weren't many choices. Well, really only one.

From Brattleboro I crossed the Connecticut River on SR 119 and into New Hampshire. It was a pretty warm day and I was getting through my water supply so I stopped at the Mount Pisgah Diner in Winchester for a tea top-up. From Winchester through Richmond to Fitzwilliam was quite hilly and the miles went by quite slowly as a result, but heading east i was grateful now for the shade cast by the trees at the side of the road. In Fitzwilliam I stopped at the Sunflower Cafe for a mid-afternoon refreshment break; vanilla ice cream and of course a pot of tea.

The road continued on its hilly way from Fitzwilliam but the shoulder disappeared and the driver became strangely inconsiderate. In a few places along the way the leaves were starting to turn on the trees; in the hollows where the colder air collects and in the waterlogged places or the north facing edges of lakes. After 40 miles in New Hampshire I crossed the state line into Massachusetts, and as the afternoon moved towards evening the temperature started to drop quite noticeably.

The Pearl Hill State Park had been the only campsite I could find along the way which had made for quite a long day, so I stopped in Ashby to buy a bottle of birthday beer and ask for directions to the campground. It's lucky I did as I would never have found it on my own. I followed the recommended short-cut down Turnpike Road, which as the guy has said was indeed all downhill - my sort of road - and it was fairly steep as I hit my highest speed of the day, but also very rough in places so I had to be careful. The sign for the state park was small and just said 'Pearl Hill Recreation Area' - no mention of state park or campground. As I turned into the side road for the last mile and a half, 'kertwang', spoke number 10 gave out, (Actually on of the replacement spokes rather than an original) so rather than having a nice relaxed evening I had to rush to replace the spoke and cook before it got dark. By the time I'd had my shower it was pitch black under the trees and even my head-torch did little in the inky blackness as I edged my way gingerly back to the tent which I only found because of the reflectors of the bike in the torchlight. ($14, showers free)

Distance: 72.4 miles
Cycling time: 6:15
Total distance: 4514.9 miles

Wednesday, 30 August 2006

Killington to Harmonyville (Vermont)

I didn't sleep very well for some reason - I'm sure it wasn't the rain dripping off the tree onto the tent. Oddly the noise of the rain dripping down through the trees sounded just like the crackle of campfires all around. By the morning it had stopped raining - at least from the sky; underneath the trees it was still raining. I was tired and slow to get up which of course wasn't helped by the gloomy conditions under a grey sky and dark tree canopy, so it was nearly 9 am by the time I set off.

From Killington there was along downhill section which can be either good or bad depending on whether there is an 'other side' to climb back up. This seemed to be good. I couldn't find anywhere open for breakfast so I stopped at a gas station in West Bridgewater to buy a breakfast muffin and tea. I was still following the SR 100 south; at times it would be busy and at other times quiet as other roads joined and left at various places along the way.

When I got to Ludlow I had the choice of two route south, so I stopped for another breakfast roll and tea to study the map. Sometimes you need to force yourself to take a break, not just for a rest but also to take time to think and plan properly. As far as I could tell the distances were the same both ways so I opted to follow the SR 103 as this might offer more chance of places to stop on the way.

A few patches of blue sky started appearing in the sky around noon, and with the appearance of the sun it started to warm up quite a bit once again. From Chester I turned onto the SR 35 which had quite a steep climb, and as I was about half way up I felt that annoyingly familiar ping of spoke #9 letting go. I carried on as far as the next village, Grafton, which turned out to be a beautiful little place - all the more so as it was now basking in glorious sunshine. I stopped at the Public Library and did a quick email check before setting about replacing the broken spoke on the library's lawn.

I was sorely tempted to stay in Grafton a little longer and visit the old tavern or the cafe at the museum, but having had one bike failure I thought I ought to keep going even though I didn't have too much further to go. The distances I am travelling each day at the moment are mostly governed by the availability of campgrounds and daylight hours rather than any physical capability. Around Townshend I had the choice of three campsites, but after that nothing for quite a while. In the end I decided that I'd stay at the most convenient - Camperama in Harmonyville. (A really naff name is always an indicator of high prices in my experience. $27 - ouch. Showers free) Since I was stopping early enough in the day, it was not quite 5 pm, I would have enough time to do some laundry too.

As it is my birthday tomorrow, I stopped at the Harmonyville store and bought myself a tub of Ben & Jerry's Dublin Mudslide ice cream and a bottle of beer. Since I don't know if I'll get the chance to 'celebrate' tomorrow I thought I'd better celebrate tonight just in case.

Distance: 55.9 miles
Cycling time: 4:44
Total distance: 4442.5 miles

Tuesday, 29 August 2006

South Starksboro to Killington (Vermont)

After the heat of yesterday, the morning was misty wet and grey. I waited a while in the tent for a time when the rain seemed to ease up a little , then packed up the tent and set off to scale the rest of the Green Mountain Range. I had made a start yesterday cycling up from the 2A to South Starksboro on the SR 17 and so I decided to continue east on the 17 rather than lose all the altitude I had already gained. I stopped at the gas station/convenience store in Jerusalem for a breakfast of bananas, muffins and tea before tackling the rest of the ascent.

It was pretty much all uphill all the way with the serious climbing being just before the summit of the pass - a steep climb up to 2356 feet at the Appalachian Gap. I was cheered to the top by a group in a School Bus parked at the col. I stopped at the top in the mist to catch my breath before plunging down the other side with the rain stinging my face. I had to moderate my speed for some tight corners and rough patches in the road. I had dropped down by 1600 feet by the time I came to the Easy Street Cafe near Irasville where I stopped for the proper breakfast I felt I fully deserved. It was also a chance to dry out a little.

Say what you like about Americans, for the most part they're considerate drivers I've found. It's a real pleasure not to be in fear of imminent death every time you hear a car coming up behind. They give you plenty of room when they pass and will often wait behind you if there is oncoming traffic, sometimes even when you're on the shoulder and not on the actual carriageway. Who are the worst drivers? MPV (Mini-van) drivers and 'White-van man' just like in the UK.

The SR 100 took me south alongside the Green Mountain National Forest on a designated 'scenic drive' and indeed it might have been, in better weather. As you'd expect for a road running alongside the Appalachian mountain range it was a little up and down. For 20 miles there was nothing along the road except tress until can to Granville and then a few miles later Hancock. From there the view was a lot more open rather than being hemmed in by the trees; the valley floor was flat and a few hundred metres wide with the tree covered hills rising up on each side and the low cloud swirling around the tops.

I stopped in Rochester for a bite to eat and a quick email check before setting off again to make sure that I'd get to a campsite before dark. It had been dry for a couple of hours in the afternoon until I got to Killington when it started to drizzle again. This was the cue I needed to call it a day as I was at the Gifford Woods State Park ($14, showers 25c per 2.5 minutes) It was another one of those annoying campgrounds in the woods where the sites are hard gravel that you can't get your tent pegs into.

Distance: 59.1 miles
Cycling time: 5:30
Total distance: 4386.6 miles

Monday, 28 August 2006

South Alburg to South Starksboro (Vermont)

It was grey and gloomy in the morning but the howling gale had dwindled to a southerly breeze. The days suddenly seem much shorter, but hopefully it just seems worse than it really is because of the weather and being shaded by the trees.

It was a relief to be able to get moving again. I think I would have had to set off today whatever the weather. I am back to cycling in miles again rather than kilometres which, although I always mentally convert between the two, somehow seems harder as the numbers click up slower. It's also harder to mentally visualize or estimate a mile.

Alburg is on an isthmus that projects down into Lake Champlain, and State Route 2 heads south through a series of islands connected by bridges before crossing east onto the mainland again just above Burlington. There were plenty of views of the lake from the road; the angry white horses were gone but there were still dark grey all around the horizon and a light drizzle was falling.

I stopped in North Hero at the Hero's Welcome Cafe for a tea while the sun made an effort to break through the clouds. I wasn't the only person to have been marooned yesterday, a family on a canoeing trip were eagerly buying food in the store having been marooned on an island in the lake until this morning. According to the newspapers there had been some other rescues on Lake Champlain too.

In spite of the clouds it was quite a warm day, and I pedalled on hoping to find somewhere for breakfast... there's never a Diner around when you want one. Instead I just snacked along the way until I got to Essex Junction where I stopped at a pizza place for lunch and had a lasagne - a very big lasagne as it turned out. I was almost too full to pedal any further. While I was eating I was chatting to someone about my travels and he was asking if I'd met any nice people and I said, yes, lots. He said "Good, just because..." and at this point paused to look over both shoulders to see if anyone was listening, "...just because we have a jackass president doesn't mean we're all bad. Less than half of us voted for him." I guess the checking over the shoulder indicates that too much Homeland Security leads to too much homeland insecurity.

I guess I can forgive you for voting him in once, but twice? Okay the first time was election fraud, but what happened the second time. Maybe John Kerry didn't come across so good, but look what he was up against! He can't have been THAT BAD. Not that we can talk, we've voted lap-dog Bliar in three times. He had us all fooled - I thought we were voting for a socialist, he was in the Labour Party after all, even if it was re-branded 'New Labour'. That label is badly soiled; I think it should be changed to 'Tory-Lite'

And how did we know he'd hitch our flimsy caravan to the back of George's behemoth steamroller on their [im]moral crusade and put us all in jeopardy. I certainly didn't vote for him last time around. I think if you're religious you should be barred from positions of public power - the ultimate separation of church and state - as it demonstrates a clear lack of critical or analytical thinking. (Is expressing such an opinion cause for deportation?)

The day was getting very warm and muggy as I followed the 2A south; it was getting hillier the further south I went. It became so warm that I was drenched in sweat at the slightest effort of cycling, and guzzling water at every opportunity. It gets quite unpleasant when you sweat out a lot of salt as it eventually becomes concentrated and everything feels greasy as a result. By the time I reached the junction with the SR 17 it was about 5 pm and I was hoping to find a campsite. From the junction the road was all uphill to South Starksboro and Jerusalem. The Maple Hill Farm campsite was rustic and basic but fine for my needs - a warm shower and somewhere grassy to pitch the tent. ($20, showers free)

There was not a breath of wind now and as the sun was setting at 7:30 condensation was already starting to form on the tent as the temperature dropped.

Distance: 70.2 miles
Cycling time: 6:18
Total distance: 4327.5 miles

Sunday, 27 August 2006

South Alburg (Vermont)

I slept right through the night and through my early alarms. I probably didn't hear them going off because of the noise of the wind. I knew as soon as I woke up that I wouldn't be going anywhere today. The sound of the wind in the trees and the rain on the tent was enough to know it would be too dangerous to even think about cycling (although I did think about it, but sensibly ruled it out) If it had been just the wind, or just the rain it might have been okay, but the combination of the two - No. In addition the wind was from the south, so it would have been very hard going.

I had been so tired when I climbed into the tent last night that I hadn't quite zipped the fly-screen door shut properly and so there were two fat bloated mossies in the tent in the morning and another one later on. Oddly, I could find out where they'd bitten me.

It was a very long and boring day. Nothing to do and nowhere to go. The campsite office /shop was open in the morning and I sat chatting over a coffee, but soon everyone else was packing up to leave and the office closed so I was relegated to the tent, reading and snoozing - which probably means that I won't be able to sleep tonight.

By 6 pm the rain had stopped, although the wind was still blustering around. The sky brightened up a little and the sun was briefly visible through the cloud. Hopefully tomorrow will be better; I couldn't stand two days trapped here. I ventured out of the tent to cook and make some tea, whilst trying to make sure that nothing blew away.

Saturday, 26 August 2006

Montreal, Quebec, Canada to South Alburg, Vermont, USA.

It was a beautiful cloudless sunny morning and after the now usual bagel breakfast I packed up the bike, bade farewell to the dungeon, and went out for a cup of tea to study the maps once again to figure out how I was going to get out of Montreal and possibly Canada. I feared that the cycle-path I wanted to take would still be closed and this turned out to be the case so I ended up taking a rather circuitous route out of the old city and across the St. Lawrence to St. Lambert. The cycle paths were pretty good, but mostly not sign-posted with the 'La Route verte' signs I was hoping for.

I had set off at about 8:45 and by 11 am I had cycled 30 km but only travelled maybe 8 km 'as the crow flies'. I stopped for a late breakfast to use up some of my Canadian dollars - what better way to use them than fuelling my body. I got lost a few times in St. Lambert even though I had picked up a local area tourist map. Without signs it was impossible to follow the supposed 'La Route verte' but at least I had the sun to help me navigate in roughly the right direction, and, with a bit of guess work I was soon back on the right cycle path as it headed out of town.

There had been quite a few cyclists on the various cycle paths I had been on, but soon I was passing hundreds of cyclists, literally hundreds - from the casual to the serious multi-coloured Lycra-clad enthusiasts. I don't think I could dress up in all that serious cycling wear - it all seems a little too earnest. I'd be too embarrassed to leave the house. I'd feel a bit of a pillock. Pillock; there's a word you don't hear much anymore. It's fallen out of fashion. Like Twerp.

I asked someone if it was a organised event, and from what I gather it was a charity ride in aid of MS. I had thought that it seemed like a lot of cyclists, even for a sunny Saturday morning. I think I must have seen more cyclists today than I have in the whole of the last three months.

The route from St. Lambert was on a cycle-path all the way to Chambly where I found a cycle-shop that had a good free cycling map of the local area; La Montérégie. I had been cycling against a light wind from the south-east, as I had yesterday, which seemed an odd direction from the usual south-westerly winds but I didn't know if was indicative of any impending weather, but it was still hot and sunny so I was happy.

The bike had developed a strange new squeak that I couldn't identify, and was trying to track down; it reminded me of the scene in the film Delicatessen where they're trying to locate the squeak in the bed-springs. Worth seeing just for that one sequence.

From Chambly 'La Route verte' followed the Chambly canal for a very pleasant easy ride along the tow-path, often with water on both sides; the canal to the right and the Richelieu river to the left. After 20 km alongside the canal I came to St. Jean-sur-Richelieu where the canal ended. For a while I was on the busy 233 road but then 'La Route verte' detoured inland through agricultural land - often fields of maize. In Saint Paul de L'Ile aux Noix I stopped to sample some Poutine - something I had been putting off for quite a while; really since I arrived in Quebec. This might be my last chance. I had been told while I was on the Relais Nordik ferry from Blanc Sablon to Natashquan, that Poutine was Quebec's contribution to French cuisine - chips with cheese in a BBQ sauce. Maybe in some places it is, but the one I had was more like chips and cheese in gravy. You don't need me to describe it any further. At least for once there was a good pot of tea to wash it down with as the proprietors wife was a tea drinker too.

I set off again in the direction of the US border hoping to find a campsite along the way as I didn't have a detailed map or campsite information for the US, but the two campsites marked on my map didn't exist, not as formal campgrounds anyway. It was already getting late by the time I arrived at the border customs post for my usual hard time. Do these guys get lessons in 'stern' or are they chosen because they are naturally stern and brusque?

First he had a go at me for exceeding my 90 days I'm allowed in the US. Excuse me, but I'm coming into America - I've been in Canada for 3 months. "No you haven't." "Yes I have." Eventually he found my entry stamp into Canada from 30 May. "Have you got $6? You need $6 to enter the country." I rootled around and found the US currency I had left over from when I left Bar Harbor; $5.84 (Arrrrgghhh!) "Er, I don't suppose I could nip out to an ATM and then come back?" Needless to say I didn't actually bother to ask this question. "Wait here!" He stalked off to his car to get some of his own loose change to make up the difference. See, underneath a heart of gold.

Then, having filled in the Visa Waiver form (No, I'm still not a Nazi) the final request; "I need an address for you in the US." Bugger, I always forget this one. "What's the name of the nearest campsite?" Needless to say... Luckily I did have one address in the US; John and Kathy had given me the address of his sister in Boston, with the offer of a place to stay, so I panicked and gave that and hoped that they would mind.

Finally they stamped my passport and allowed me on my way with directions to the nearest ATM - over the bridge from New York State into Vermont. I was probably in New York State for a grand total of 20 minutes - 15 of which was being char-grilled at the customs post. Even when he wished me an enjoyable stay in the US it sounded more like a command than anything else. I turned left crossed over the bridge into Vermont, stopping at the Mobil station ATM and then cycling on to the Welcome Center in Alburg - closed as it was so late. I cycled on until I came to a nice little cafe where I stopped to ask if they knew of any campsites nearby. They had a booklet with campsites listed and insisted on phoning the one nearest for me.

By now it was about 7 pm so after a quick cup of PG tea I set off to cycle the 5 miles to the Goose Point campground. ($19.08, showers free) The campground was right next to the road, so I couldn't miss it, and it looked as if it was going to be a party night. There was a band playing, churning out all the usual dreadful C&W ballads. Having pitched the tent and had a shower, it was too dark and I was too tired to cook. I had planned to join the party long enough to down a beer or two and write some diary but I just fell into the tent and fell asleep.

Distance: 134.6 km
Cycling time: 6:59
Total distance: 6851.2 km