Back in the Mountains: Brighton, NY to South Royalton, VT

Leaving Brighton we made a quick stop at the Bagel Bin to stock up on a favorite carb cache. After many many miles of disappointing bready ringlets painfully labeled as bagels, the sight of a true New York bagel store had us running... or pedaling... whatever.

Full of crispy exterior and soft interior goodness we headed back to the Lake Erie Canalway Trail. We pedaled past draw bridges and tourist-laden river craft for ~20 more miles of trail before heading north to Lake Ontario. The trip north took us through the second largest apple producing county in the nation (after whatever county Seattle, WA is in). As we made our way to Sodus, NY we stopped briefly to grab a fishing license. The ensuing visions of trout over warm coals were enough to keep up our momentum despite the unexpected 6 mile detour required to trace the Lake Ontario coast to our night's camp site... yet another trailer-filled, waterfront lot (no... we didn't catch squat... but not to worry... we didn't even have time to dwell on our deflated hopes for a fishy meal as our attention quickly shifted to the evenings torrential downpour, giving way to the early mornings torrential downpour with a side of 40 mi/hr winds).

As it turns out, 2.5 hrs of sleep is just enough to get you 63 miles. The day's ride through an orchard rich countryside lead us to Selkirk Shore State Park. The sunset was breathtaking and Matt didn't even mind learning that the recently acquired fishing pole didn't have enough line to reach more than 25 ft off shore, trumping his every effort at making the most of the week-long fishing license.

*note: despite the negative undertone of the preceding paragraphs, NY State was proving to be a wonderful threshold to reaching New England. (at this point it may be worth mentioning that ol' Selkirk has a little secret... it is riddled with skunks and raccoons... both of which graced us with their presence and - er - fragrance that evening).

Dawn brought dewdrops, morning doves and many thanks that the preceding evening's skunk vs. raccoon battle royal didn't end up leaving a longer lasting impression on our camping gear. Riding through the increasingly hilly terrain was accompanied by the perfect riding temperature and we made quick time of 60 miles en route to Boonville, NY. We arrived just in time to sign up for the local talent show at the friendly 1950's soda fountain. Matt decided that competing against a field of 10 year-old American Idol hopefuls and 60 or better sock hop veterans was not the place to display a barrage of beat box antics and opted instead to retire to Stych's Camp Barn to watch the Olympics in both Canadian and US coverage.

Friendly Stych (Dan) welcomed us with open arms, gave us free reign of the barn accommodations and showed us the way to perhaps the most pleasant camping site we had to date. The expansive property boasted an undulating field of glacially formed eskers (offering gorgeous views of the countryside) and a babbling brook swollen with the month's heavy rains swirling to avoid massive boulders (known as erratics) carried into place by the regions notorious glacial tongues.

Heading deeper into the Adirondack mountains, we saw other evidence of the glacial history of the region. Deep lacerations of bedrock (schist, basalt, sandstone, and limestone) alerted us to seasonal streams and waterfalls. Pockets etched out of the hills were formed of glacial lakes and deposits of debris resulting in current-day lakes at varying altitudes. We found many places to stop, swim and curse at the complete inability to entice a single fish to bite our rubbery worm imitations.

The towns of the upper Adirondacks were charming and delightfully irritating in their impeccable ability to draw tourists to their overpriced bounty. It was in this context that we met Big Bad Bruce. A seasoned recumbent bicycle tourist, Bruce was managing the hills with a bum kneecap forcing him to lug his 14' bicycle across the grain of hills with one leg. To his credit, the fearless iron horse rider achieved 50+ speeds careening down mountainsides we only dared white knuckle.

Approaching VT, we hopped on our 3rd ferry of the trip to cross into the green mountain state. Not yet completely put out by his fruitless efforts, Matt cast his lures out into the NY waters until the 10-car ferry made port and required his retirement.

Almost as soon as we disembarked in the new state, we found ourselves back in farm country. New England at this time of year is brimming with garden goodies and orchard treats. Not 5 miles from the ferry did we stop and load up on apples and plums (cider was not yet quite ready). We rolled into Middlebury that evening and enjoyed more local food at the Two Brothers Tavern before being picked up by Sue Levine. Sue graciously offered up her in-law cabin for the evening and was even willing to tote us between Middlebury and her town of New Haven both that evening and the following morning. Thanks Sue and Charlie! Your new home is lovely.

We now find ourselves alternating between sitting in a hot tub and lounging in leather lazy boys to watch whatever daytime programming we are able to digest. Matt's aunt, Jane Reed, called up a childhood friend, Kit Hood, in South Royalton, VT to alert her to our trans-am route. Kit kindly offered up her house despite not being around to greet us and told us to make ourselves at home. We thoroughly appreciate the beautiful house nestled in the green mountains and are appreciating our last day off before making the final push to Appleton, ME. Thanks Kit and Allen. Take a look in the freezer to find a home-made treat as a token of our thanks.