A Grave Experience
Day 4: Tuesday, May 24th
Lockport, NY -> Brantford, ON
Miles: 95.58
Total miles: 271
Average speed: 11.1 mph
Weather: Sunny with moderate headwind
I began the day a bit late, having a huge and filling breakfast with Kathy and Dave before taking many pictures and saying goodbyes and setting off.
I knew that soon I would encounter The Railroad Tracks: the tracks that I fell upon last time, when it was raining and I was miserable. Crossing The Tracks now felt like a test of my skill. Had I become so skilled at railroad tracks that I would make it to the other side unscathed, or would I once again be defeated by strips of metal and large gaps of nothing? I was anxious and I approached them. I saw them from very far away and my palms began to sweat. Traffic was heavy; if I fell, I would plunge headfirst into a sea of fast moving cars and trucks, ready to squish an a assuming cyclist. Closer, and closer they came. Finally, I was upon them... And then I was over. It felt a little anticlimactic.
After I crossed The Tracks, I stopped in a park and spent a few minutes updating my family and making sure they knew that I was going into Canada: no service for a few days, and don't worry, I'll be fine!
I crossed into Canada quickly and easily. There was no sea of cars like last time, just me, rolling up to the window as though I had four wheels instead of two. After the crossing, I wandered about niagara until I found a good view of the Falls and basked in their cool spray for a few minutes before leaving. This time, unlike last time, I would not parallel the river or Erie Lake. I cut straight across Niagara and found out just how funky of a town it is. It is a huge, magnificently done, tourist trap! There were strange museums and weird buildings and lots of flashing lights and colors and noises and tourists. I thought it was pretty funny and I liked it, but I was happy I didn't have to stop.
I rode to the north of the lake, far enough north that it was only a concept. I did not see any touring cyclists after that point (I did see one in the morning, going the opposite direction on a busy road. We waved cheerily at each other and continued moving!). I had a bit of trouble without google maps, and often had to correct my directions using my paper map-- like when Google maps tried to send me down a road that was closed. Whoops.
It was strange, not having a place to stay at the end of the day. I was having a wonderful ride and wanted to keep going to infinity when I realized my tail light was broken or I didn't know how to work it: it wouldn't stay lit longer than a minute. This was troubling because it meant I couldn't keep going to find a nice stealth camp spot, like I imagined I would be able to. It was already getting late so I had to stop at the next best place I saw. Unfortunately, the houses just seemed to keep going and going with no stop in sight. I was getting genuinely worried when I saw a road labeled "cemetery".
What a godsend, I thought! I rode in tentatively to check it out, and when I looked at dates on some of the tombstones I began to worry a little. Some were as recent as 2011-- what if those still have visitors? Many graves were very well tended to. I walked around for awhile and traipsed in the surrounding bushes and finally decided that continuing was no longer an option. I tried to find a spot far enough back in the shrubbery that I wouldn't be spotted, even if someone came into the cemetery. I set up camp quickly and jumped into my tent, feeling anxious and prepared for a night of poor sleep as I listened to cars drive past and dogs bark. I was certain the dogs knew I was here.
I had just closed up my tent and was examining my maps when I heard a car enter the cemetery at great speed. I froze and hoped it would leave. It didn't. I heard the gravel crunch as it drove off of the road onto the grass and then it stopped, idling. I couldn't breathe. I slowly unzipped my mosquito netting, and then the teeniest bottom corner of the outside fly, and peeked out to see two tail lights-- 40 feet away, right in my corner of the cemetery. I was so thankful that I had thought to go pretty far back in the bushes, and hoped to hope that my tent and bicycle wouldn't catch their eye. I slowly lay back down and crossed my fingers, trying not to make any noise and listening to the car idling. I was waiting for the crunching leaves of a person walking up to my tent and asking me "what the hell are you doing here" (although frankly everyone I've met so far around here has been ridiculously nice). Finally, I heard the car door shut and it drove away. I breathed a sigh of relief, but couldn't help wondering, what if they called for reinforcements?
Later, I put my shoes on and got out of my tent to walk over to where I thought I saw the car. I looked back over at my tent. I could hardly see anything; if I hadn't known it was there, I don't think I would've noticed it. I walked closer. Still inconspicuous. I'm glad my tent is a neutral "woodsy" color and not bright orange or red! I imagine they didn't see me, but it was still freaky.
For now, I'm fine. Tomorrow, I wake early and get the heck out of here as soon as I don't need lights anymore. Perhaps the next time I have to camp... I'll stay in a campground.
Lockport, NY -> Brantford, ON
Miles: 95.58
Total miles: 271
Average speed: 11.1 mph
Weather: Sunny with moderate headwind
I began the day a bit late, having a huge and filling breakfast with Kathy and Dave before taking many pictures and saying goodbyes and setting off.
I knew that soon I would encounter The Railroad Tracks: the tracks that I fell upon last time, when it was raining and I was miserable. Crossing The Tracks now felt like a test of my skill. Had I become so skilled at railroad tracks that I would make it to the other side unscathed, or would I once again be defeated by strips of metal and large gaps of nothing? I was anxious and I approached them. I saw them from very far away and my palms began to sweat. Traffic was heavy; if I fell, I would plunge headfirst into a sea of fast moving cars and trucks, ready to squish an a assuming cyclist. Closer, and closer they came. Finally, I was upon them... And then I was over. It felt a little anticlimactic.
After I crossed The Tracks, I stopped in a park and spent a few minutes updating my family and making sure they knew that I was going into Canada: no service for a few days, and don't worry, I'll be fine!
I crossed into Canada quickly and easily. There was no sea of cars like last time, just me, rolling up to the window as though I had four wheels instead of two. After the crossing, I wandered about niagara until I found a good view of the Falls and basked in their cool spray for a few minutes before leaving. This time, unlike last time, I would not parallel the river or Erie Lake. I cut straight across Niagara and found out just how funky of a town it is. It is a huge, magnificently done, tourist trap! There were strange museums and weird buildings and lots of flashing lights and colors and noises and tourists. I thought it was pretty funny and I liked it, but I was happy I didn't have to stop.
I rode to the north of the lake, far enough north that it was only a concept. I did not see any touring cyclists after that point (I did see one in the morning, going the opposite direction on a busy road. We waved cheerily at each other and continued moving!). I had a bit of trouble without google maps, and often had to correct my directions using my paper map-- like when Google maps tried to send me down a road that was closed. Whoops.
It was strange, not having a place to stay at the end of the day. I was having a wonderful ride and wanted to keep going to infinity when I realized my tail light was broken or I didn't know how to work it: it wouldn't stay lit longer than a minute. This was troubling because it meant I couldn't keep going to find a nice stealth camp spot, like I imagined I would be able to. It was already getting late so I had to stop at the next best place I saw. Unfortunately, the houses just seemed to keep going and going with no stop in sight. I was getting genuinely worried when I saw a road labeled "cemetery".
What a godsend, I thought! I rode in tentatively to check it out, and when I looked at dates on some of the tombstones I began to worry a little. Some were as recent as 2011-- what if those still have visitors? Many graves were very well tended to. I walked around for awhile and traipsed in the surrounding bushes and finally decided that continuing was no longer an option. I tried to find a spot far enough back in the shrubbery that I wouldn't be spotted, even if someone came into the cemetery. I set up camp quickly and jumped into my tent, feeling anxious and prepared for a night of poor sleep as I listened to cars drive past and dogs bark. I was certain the dogs knew I was here.
I had just closed up my tent and was examining my maps when I heard a car enter the cemetery at great speed. I froze and hoped it would leave. It didn't. I heard the gravel crunch as it drove off of the road onto the grass and then it stopped, idling. I couldn't breathe. I slowly unzipped my mosquito netting, and then the teeniest bottom corner of the outside fly, and peeked out to see two tail lights-- 40 feet away, right in my corner of the cemetery. I was so thankful that I had thought to go pretty far back in the bushes, and hoped to hope that my tent and bicycle wouldn't catch their eye. I slowly lay back down and crossed my fingers, trying not to make any noise and listening to the car idling. I was waiting for the crunching leaves of a person walking up to my tent and asking me "what the hell are you doing here" (although frankly everyone I've met so far around here has been ridiculously nice). Finally, I heard the car door shut and it drove away. I breathed a sigh of relief, but couldn't help wondering, what if they called for reinforcements?
Later, I put my shoes on and got out of my tent to walk over to where I thought I saw the car. I looked back over at my tent. I could hardly see anything; if I hadn't known it was there, I don't think I would've noticed it. I walked closer. Still inconspicuous. I'm glad my tent is a neutral "woodsy" color and not bright orange or red! I imagine they didn't see me, but it was still freaky.
For now, I'm fine. Tomorrow, I wake early and get the heck out of here as soon as I don't need lights anymore. Perhaps the next time I have to camp... I'll stay in a campground.
Comments
Post a Comment