Top of New York
Oneida to Palatine Bridge - 66 miles
Average Speed - 9.7 mph
That 12 miles to New Hartford turned out to be closer to 20 miles, so we were happy that we had decided to stop in Oneida. There were several motels scattered along the way outside of Oneida.
Having Fun
We climbed again today, although I found the hills much more gentle today, even though there were plenty of them. I don’t mind the long gradual hills. I hate all hills, but tolerate the long gradual hills much better. Today was the 4th of July, so there wasn’t too much traffic on the road, which made the riding all the more pleasant.
Top of the climb
A view of the state
After all of our little climbs today, we came to the summit of what appeared to be a hill that simply dropped off the face of the earth. I quickly evaluated the situation and dismounted. There’s no shame in walking up hills, but there is also no shame in walking down hills. When I feel that I might somersault over my handlebars, I have no interest in riding.
Too Steep for Me
At the top of this hill the phone rang and it was Nate calling to say that he had been chased by a German Sheperd while going down this hill. Apprently, the owners found it quite funny. Nate should have called the sheriff. I watched for the dog and couldn’t even imagine going down this hill and being chased.
We reached the very small town of Frankfort where all dining options were closed due to the holiday. A local recommended that we continue on for two miles to Ilion, where we found a pizza place open and waiting for us. While eating our lunch, the skies opened and the rained came down. What kind of day would it be without hills, wind and rain?
Mary Ellen had to get to the train station in Albany, so she was being picked up in Little Falls, from where Robert, Nate and I would continue on the trail to Palatine Bridge. Tatiana has to return to work tomorrow, so she would leave here as well. With the advantage of a car, we scouted out the start of the trail as there are no directional signs to the trail. I know that I expect too much, but don’t understand how any of these municipalities on the trail expect tourists to easly find this outstanding resource. The refugees left and the three of us departed through a canyon as the trail skirted the canal, using an old railway bed.
This section of the trail was one of the nicest that we had experienced so far. You might think that the trail is uniform throughout its several hundred miles, but each section has its own flavor. We didn’t always see the canal from the trail, but did hear the traffic from I-90, which seemed to be always at our side.
At some point, the trail became paved, which made the riding easier. Passing through Canajoharie, we were blocked on the trail by some locals who obviously assumed that they owned that section of the trail and that it was humorous to stand in the path of cyclists. Just a short way past this incident, we had firecrackers tossed in front of us. We don’t understand the mentality of these people.
We crossed the Mohawk and headed to our motel, which as luck would have it, had a steep driveway. The owner requested that we let our bicycles dry off before taking them into the room. It was a good thing that he didn’t get a look at me. My legs were encrusted with the black dust from the trail and had much more dirt than the bicycles.
We met with our son, Jeff, who lives nearby. The original plan was for him to ride with us for a few miles, but since it was raining, we abandoned that plan. We visited over a pizza - the only option in town - and went to bed early. Tomorrow, we will be sleeping in our own bed.