Erie Canal Post-Mortem

Just a few days ago Kent received an email from someone who did the Erie Canal ride a year ago; he wanted to know of the details, a post-mortem of our 426 mile ride.

On the flight home I made some notes. I’ll enjoy preserving these, sometimes quirky, notes of our trip — an after-action report of sorts.

First, let’s get biological: we were traveling in the middle of nowhere much of the time, so there were no bathrooms. We quickly adapted, finding a tree to hide behind, but this habit served us less well as we approached cities and towns along our route. We joked about finding relief in front of one of GE’s massive fortresses outside Schenectady where we were sure we were on video. Unfortunately, there were too many times we had little privacy as we sought relief along roadways and freeways.

While I’m on the subject, next there was the issue of, say, exiting a restaurant after breakfast to discover that my belt was undone and my fly was open. Unsettling indeed, but because I was always wearing padded bike pants under my shorts, the telltale breezes that would alert one to a flag at half staff were missing. Pardon me to all those who encountered me so disheveled. This long distance bike ride continuously reminded me of backpacking; the attire was similar in many ways, and the back-country informality lent itself to our daily behaviors.

The vivid dreams were a surprise. Was it because of our early bedtimes? We would pass out most nights before 8:30pm, so our disposition to REM dreams in the early morning hours was predictable. Nonetheless, the LSD dreams would have me up early many days.

I equipped my bike with the Bontrager Interchange Waterproof panniers. Even before I started the journey I had doubts about their durability, but they went the distance with no problems. I brought wire to perform on-the-trail repairs because I feared the clamps to the rear rack were the weak link in this system. I needn’t have given it a second thought. Kent had waterproof covers for his panniers and they worked not nearly as effectively as mine. I like the added visibility of these bright yellow panniers.

I wrote about it repeatedly — the impressive courtesy we were shown as we pedaled the roadways of upstate New York. Many times the off road trails would convert to the roads; other days the rain or wet conditions forced us off the gravel paths — they’d be too soft and kick up too much dirt onto the cassette. So we found ourselves on quiet back country roads and busy inner city expressways. While we always preferred the quiet of off-road, the motorists were considerate to an extent seldom seen here in Southern California, for example.

Interacting with passers-by was a real treat. We found opportunities to ask directions on many days and everyone smiled when they heard our our cross-state ambitions. It seemed like we made some peoples’ day just by stopping to say hello. Next time I’ll be even more outgoing and I hope to enjoy even more personal connections with the people we meet along the way.

I fretted about footwear, SPD’s or toe-clips, but quickly settled on toe-clips and we were both happy with the easy in-out they afford. There’s just too many times a day when you may find yourself coming off the pedals. The toe-clips meant I could use a single pair of sneakers for the whole trip; this was a bonus until we hit the giant mud fields on the last day as I had nothing to change into for the long flight home.

My set of tools will grow before I set out again on such an adventure. I don’t have the same wrench tool Kent brought along and it saved us as we performed fender-surgery along the trail.

Rain gear: my Showers Pass Club Pro Rain Jacket was a big disappointment — it didn’t breathe so I was dry until soaked in sweat. It was the only coat I packed. Kent’s O2 Original Cycling Jacket did a better job for half the cost.

I never expected mosquitoes in late September. Kent and I met on a lake in New Hampshire in 1968; all the bugs would get cleared out by the cold temperatures of a typical late August morning — not so along the Erie Canal. We had to keep moving to avoid them, so any issue that caused us to stop, to walk around mud, or find relief, had us running back to the bikes to escape. I don’t like bug sprays and usually don’t need or use them when backpacking, so this was a huge surprise.

Kent had a steel frame bike, me aluminum. After fully loading both bikes the aluminum weight advantage is quickly offset. I noticed this as I attempted to pedal while standing off the saddle up a hill — my bike did not respond well in these situations and I expect the more rigid steel frame would. Some long term followers will remember the Brompton I purchased this spring; it would’ve been fine if my companion was also traveling on one, but the big wheels of touring bikes move faster and seem better suited for such excursions. I would’ve loved a belt-drive with an internal gear set instead of a chain and cassette — there’s just so much dirt, mud and grime on a trip this long, but belt drives don’t lend themselves to emergency repairs on picnic tables in the woods either.

Food: We ate ravenously many evenings, always sitting at the bar. After 71 miles we could eat anything we wanted; we were burning calories by the thousands. Sitting at the bar offered opportunities to make new friends.

Lunch was a challenge some days. We’d always have a place in mind, where we were going to end the day’s ride, but some days a break around lunch time didn’t match up with a restaurant. Some days, too, we weren’t hungry at noon and passed by possibilities to later find ourselves without choices an hour later. Next time I’d be inclined to stop and eat, usually before the lunchtime rush, even if I’m not starving because who knows what may lie ahead.

Packing: There was only one clothing item, a bathing suit, that didn’t get used. Temperatures in Albany as we departed were predicted in the 80’s; a soak in a hot tub would’ve been sublime, but the cool temps we encountered meant this item would go unused. The Contour HD video camera never got used either. I had previously mounted it to the rear rack for cool shots of everything behind me, but the panniers immediately obscured this possibility and the trip forced us to keep moving; there was never any time for experimenting with new camera mounts. Maybe it was because of the nightly blog posts and uploading the day’s photos, but I never felt I had much leisure time for much of anything. The great distances kept us focused on moving each time we paused.

Friends have asked, would we have allocated more layover time along the way? It would have given us more time for sightseeing, visiting museums and lingering over a beer at lunch, but many locales along this route didn’t offer much more than a passing glance — we would’ve been bored if we had slowed our pace too much more.

Electronics: I used my backpacking waterproof sacks to protect my big camera, the Sony A55. I was tempted to bring my Canon S95 pocket camera, but left it home at the last minute to save weight. The Sony sat nicely in my top bag and the quality of the photos was appreciated. Quick photos along the way could be had with the smartphones. This littlest of MacBooks came along; I had a separate sack for it and its accessories — it was the heaviest item on the trip, but no iPad could do the work this 11″ wonder did. I had no problems with moisture anywhere on the trip, so I’ll bring these items again. WiFi was available each night except once, so it was easy to keep in touch.

Lastly, the Erie Canal guide book was an essential resource. We used it several times a day to follow the path, to find hotels and bike shops. Smartphones, my iPhone and Kent’s Droid, each served us well as we checked weather radar for rain or searched for a nearby B&B. I wouldn’t do the trip with out one. Cellphone service was uniformly excellent all along our route with few exceptions, better than here in Newport Beach; I never had a run-down battery at day’s end.