The Second 1000 kms

The 2nd thousand Kms took us just over 4weeks, from Boston to Birmingham, Alabama.We ferried across to Cape Cod, took a bus out of New York to Washington, and an overnight train from Charlottsville to Birmingham. Amazing friendly hosts made it possible for us to stay handy to all that the cities had to offer, most especially the art museums.
Having biked this way and that through Manhattan I find myself saying, we can do anything. It was only scary for a while. Washington seemed like a little village by comparison, and stuffed full of wonderful treasures in the Smithsonian museums. The Canal path out of Washington was as gentle as the Skyline/ Blue Mountain road was tough going. With a forecast for considerable rain we jumped on the train, to be met in sunny Alabama by Serena and Jim, and whisked away to their lovely home.
Although we always knew we would not ride the whole way from Montreal to New Orleans I think we both secretly hoped we might. Once we acknowledged this we settled down for a more relaxing....

Third thousand Kms...
We pottered south from Birmingham, through rough hunting country, towns remembered for Civil Rights activism, past (and sometimes camping behind)every sort of church and with delightful weather. The bugs were bigger, fire ants and itchy things. We saw a man finishing off a decent sized rattle snake, and the news told us that bears were invading from the north and swimming the Mississippi. Once at the coast we turned right, for New Orleans and were over whelmed by the ongoing catastrophe of hurricane Katrina. Wrecked coastline, homes, businesses and communities. I think everyone we spoke to mentioned Katrina within the first minute of conversation. The oil spill is like another knock back, to an already battered community We helped out at a Habitat for Humanity site for 4 days, good fun and a well run project. New Orleans was easy going and a fun visit, food, music and museums. It was so nice to sit still. at last, on the 48 hour train ride to LA. We had a minute sleeping cupboard, nice food and endless amazing views of the desert,(never let me try to ride anywhere near there please)
We planned this trip that we would meet people, and be able to talk with them. We chose the East side of USA to see historic places,small towns as well as cities and the coast, with the expectation of varied cultures,climates and geography. Any stereotypical views we might have harbored about America and Americans have been well and truly smashed. We have loved it all,expectations surpassed and we are deeply grateful to all those generous folk who made it SO special.

Possum in the Headlights – an Alabama story.

“Buddy” did'nt know we were camping on his property until he looked out the window of his house and saw strange lights flickering in his paddock, half a mile away. We had spoken to a chap operating a digger on Buddie's property and he said he thought it would be ok, as long as we “took out our trash”.
“Get out around the back of the hill near those trees where the crazies won't see you” was his advice as I thanked him and headed back to my bike.
We were sitting finishing our meal when headlight beams sliced through the darkness around the side of the low hill which shielded us from the road. Like a possum caught in the headlights, I stood and began walking towards the vehicle which came to a stop about 20 paces from where we'd been sitting. Reflected in the dashboard lights I could make out a man in his mid to late forties, eyes a bid bleary looking as if he'd had a few drinks, I could not see past him to ascertain if he had a gun on the seat!
“We're cycle tourists from New Zealand. Do you own this land” I asked
“Yes Sirr“
“We spoke to the bloke on the digger and he said he thought it would be ok to camp here, is it OK?”
“Yes Sirr, thats fine. Where yaaal from ?”
“We started in Montreal and we're headed for New Orleans”
“Montreal Canada?” incredulously
“Yeah, 8 weeks ago”
“ Yew got ever thin yew want there?”
“Yes thanks, we carry everthing we need, are very careful campers and will leave only footprints”
“Ok Sirr, then yew have a good night”
Then “ Yew say yure frome Ontario ?”
“No, New Zealand”
He turned the ute and bumped back around the track out of the paddock.

We finished our tea, crawled into out tent, read for awhile and were just dozing off to sleep when a glow from vehicle lights lit up the inside of the tent.
Dressed in my cycle touring pyjamas, I was not really in a state to welcome visitors, so I unzipped the tent fly and stuck my head out, the ute was on the far side of the tent.
“Hope ahm not disturbin ya'll, ma wife sent some sausages and pork ribs down for yew” It was our landlord back again.
“Thanks very much that's very kind “ The ute door opened and he made his way around to my side of the tent and handed me an alfoil tray, containing the barbequed food, then hurriedly made his way back to the ute.
“They's a Homecomin Dance on back at the school, I just come on down to see things are all right, hope I'm not disturbin y' all”
“No, that's fine, hey these sausages are really good” They were spicy hot and salty, I passed one into Val – she took a bite and almost caught fire, too hot for her.
“Ah got some bread and mustard here if ya want”
“No, wer're okay, if fact we've not long finished our tea, but I'll just have to have another one of these sausages and the rest will be good tomorrow for lunch”
A long pause then “Well if ya'll right here I'll be goin now, Ya'll have a good night'
“I'm sure we will thanks, night”
The ute rolled off, following the swathe cut by its headlights, but only travelled 20 metres when the tail lights blazed and it backed up to the tent once more.
'I hope ahm not disturbin y'all again, but where 'r yew frome”
I poked my head our again
“No, you're not disturbing us, We're from New Zealand”
“I used ter work urp n Quebec, got a good buddy still up there”
Öh yeah, what sort of work was that”
“Forestry, it's sall forestry round here”
“Are you still in forestry”
“Yeah, I run a logging machine”
Here was my chance to show off my logging knowledge
“Do you operate a feller/buncher”
“Yessir, I do”
“It's all pretty flat land round here I guess
““Yessir, not too hilly, not like Canada. I went to a logging conference up there a year or two ago, they sure know their logging up there”
The conversation went on like this for a while, then went he was quiet and I could see a blue light coming from his cell phone as he opened it and began dialling. Shortly a canned voice drifted over to me, saying that so and so could not take the call now but call back later.
We fancy buddy wanted to check with his mate in Quebec as just where in Canada was this place called New Zealand.

 

Supermarket missions

Don has had it hard with out his Vegmite, and my supply of Peppermint tea was seriously interrupted.

 

Why no tandem ???
Don races down hills as fast as poss, while I, having struggled to the top, like to savour the down hill experience.

 

Sausage buddy
WE camped in a fairly desolate field, having been told the owwer probably would not mind. While eating dinner a huge Ute bounded across through the darkness. 'Buddy 'leaned out of the window and said its all fine. stay as long as you like.
When well asleep,about 10 30, he returned to say it was sad we missed the Homecoming game the previous night. It was also sad we missed the dance H tonight, but..oh yes stay as long as you like... He gave us a box of very spicy snd rather burned sausages. Don popped out of the tent, having pulled on some pants and tried to make conversation about the logging industry and local issues. 'Buddy'said again we could stay as long as we liked, and headed off. As we were 3 days between shops the sausages were very welcome.

 

A Bike for Serena
Jim and Serena were great hosts in Birmingham. Jim is keen to cycle tour, but Serena prefers to make glorious patchwork quilts. This may just solve the problem

More from Val

 

In Praise of Ponchos.
I have in the past been quite dismissive of cheap plastic ponchos.. well...
While in Toronto I bought a smart new biking rain jacket. It has long long sleeves, zippy underarms and is a lovely red colour. On it first outing I was thrilled, dry inside , comfy and warm. But then it really rained, record breaking rain it was too. The rain coursed off my helmet and through the over large neck hole of the jacket. My body was soon soaked and cold, and big pools of water collected round my elbows in the sleeves. I solved the problem that day with a super market bag under the helmet and a bundle of rags round my neck.
Yesterday I bought a cheap plastic poncho, and already have delighted in is efficacy. Worn over the red jacket it sheds the rain. Don says I look like the Vicar of Dibbly, cosy, round and very content.
At a recent camp ground there were no showers of washing facilities. Don solved an old problem of clothes washing by filling an empty pannier bag with water and clothes, and swishing it round for a bit. I can feel a poncho combo coming on. With a pannier of water up a tree, and a syphon pipe coming down to my neck I will be inside the poncho, enjoying a very public yet private shower.

 

As the day got hotter and the hills steeper I called for time out under a tree. We lay back and watched the buzzards circling way high. The sky blackened very fast and as the first huge drops of water fell we hurried to put up pinky, out little shelter tent. The thunder shook the ground and the lightening really did crack overhead. Sadly we had put up the tent inside out, so the rain drained in through the vents. I relaxed with my I pod, Mozart's violin no 3 was the perfect music and played exactly the length of the storm. The temp dropped many degrees and on we went.

 

Brooklyn PI

 

One of the big moments - arriving in NEW YORK STATE.

We came over to Long Island on a ferry from New London,Conneticut, with not a little apprehension, our attempts at making contact with Warm Showers hosts had come to nothing.

 

An indication that an annual festivity involving pumpkins is not too far away, was this display on a roadside stall on our first days ride on Long Island.

 

 

We wondered if we'd made the right choice when Tommy said

"I've got a 35foot Alligator in the house, with big teeth!

Wait here a moment"

When we met Doris she was not a bit scary; a tall, willowy figure, she looked as though she'd walked many miles in the shoes of others, and had a heart of gold.

Both brought up in Brooklyn, they lived about 2 hours drive from there, which Doris pined for, but Tommy only went back for Gridiron games, and to see his Mother.

Of medium to stocky build with an implacable and unruffled expression that sat well with a man who, only a few years before, had surrendered his Private Investigators Licence. His business on Wall St had once emplyed thirty people, but Internet security checks along with other modern techniques had driven the business under, finger printing became obsolete.

Tommy and Doris were preparing to host us in style,unaware of this, I was busy getting tea underway on the Trangia camp stove when Val informed me;

"Tommy is expecting to do Hamburgers for us"

I called to him

"Hey Tom, I think we are putting enough on you by asking for a place to camp, without you feeding us as well!"

"You're not telling me you do embarressed are you?"

We had a shared meal, he did the Hamburgers I did boiled potatoes - not a traditional American meal.

After dinner we sat over a glass of wine and a can or two of beer, talking about many things, among these, the intriguing fact that Doris had a friend who'd been a Bunny Girl at one of Hefners Playboy Clubs years ago, till late in the evening, Val and Doris headed their respective ways to bed and Tommy appeared with another couple of cold cans.

I was completely oblivious to the fact that next day was the anniversary of the most traumatic event in modern American History - 9/11 and this was something personally traumatic to both our hosts.

Tommy had wandered throught the Twin Towers Plaza on the previous day, knew a lot of people, business associates, firemen and policemen who had lost their lives, then to cap it all, he witnessed the second plane fly into the tower block from the deck of a Hudson River Ferry.

No wonder he had a few beers that night, (maybe our being there made things a little easier, I hope so) Doris also knew many killed and lost someone close, a young man whom she helped raise from a baby in nappies.

Next morning when I went into the house a TV relayed a ceremony from Ground Zero, reading out the names of all the victims.

Later along the road we passed a fire station with a firemans kit placed on the ground in front of fire truck out of the shed and facing the road. Flags all along the way flew at half mast and on the media the debate raged about the nutty clergyman in Florida who threatened to burn the Koran and opinions varied on the building of a Muslim Centre in the vicinity of Ground Zero.

On The Beach - Long Island

 
 
 
 

We had no luck yesterday finding people beside the road with a patch of lawn for our tent and last night we camped on a Long Island beach at a town called Fort Jefferson. Just after dark, some of the local kids were surprised to find us there as they began to party drinking Bourbon from a bottle and smoking their joints, but seemed to accept us being there first and moved on along the beach.

Then around 3am a noisy mob arrived right alongside us, but were too preoccupied to see us, and disrobing, began skinny dipping about 10metres away. A lot of noise, screaming and yelling – one loud voice even claimed a floating pontoon for “New Zealand” They left about 4am and we'd just got back to sleep when  a couple of lads turned up looking for a missing item. As they were only a few metres away, I stuck my head out of the tent and called,

“Do you want to borrow a torch?”

A shocked Irish voice said

"Fuckin hell, who's this"

“ We're camping here, on a cycle tour from NZ.”

His shock was such that he could barely stagger over to the tent, though he took the torch, found what they were looking for , returned the torch and mumbled an apology for being so noisy earlier on.

Another night on the cycle trail.

Next night we stayed in a B & B giving ourslelves some luxury and we plan a train trip into the Big Apple.

Dancing with Marilyn.

 

Fashion Week.

Just before we left home I had a rush of energy, and printed a 'Skirt for New York', virbant.. garish???.
Not many people in New York catch your eye or make contact, they have things to do and places to go. So when a young woman passed by ad said'Like your skirt "I was happy. It's New York fashion week, stand over Donna Klein. Victoria Beckam compered her own show it seems.. I might have to model my own next year.

Ups and Downs, val gj

Like life, a bike trips ups and downs, not only the geography, but my mood, my energy enthusiasm, and the amount of food in the bag. I trundle my way up a hill, enjoy the view, cruise down the other side and start all over again. I try to look from hill top to hill top, not valley bottom the valley bottom. And, like life, the bigger the down the better the up.
In the last 24 hours we went from a deep crevasse to an alpine peak We started the day, damp and cold, about 100 kms out of New York on Long Island. None of the many Warm Showers hosts whom Don had contacted had responded. Sitting in a huge Laundrette, which had WiFi we found all hostels in New York were full, and camp grounds impractical. And how would we get a permit to take bikes on the train. We did not wish to admit defeat, (and face an extended holiday on Long Island) but for quite for a while we really did not know what to do.
In Portland we had met Pam at a party, a lively, vibrant woman who insisted her nephew in Hoboken, New Jersey, would love to have us to stay. Even I thought it a bit of a cheek, as I rang the number.
Today we had a trouble free train trip, changing twice, en route to John and Ali's luxury apartment, ( $1 75 on the sub way to Manhattan ) with a squinty view of the sky scrapers just across the Hudson River. We have landed sunny side up again, and intend to stay on the hill top for quite some time. Within 24 hours hours of despair, we were biking round the waterfront like locals, taking in the views of Manhatta at sundown.

The first 1000kms, val gj

The 1000th Km slipped under the wheels on our way into Boston, and we are now in New York, and I thought a summary was due.
FAC,s (frequently asked questions)
1. How far each day... as little as 7 kms and as much as 77 kms. Over 60 demands that I have a mid day nap, hopefully under a tree.

2. where have you come from... Montreal, Quebec province, through Maine, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, Connecticut and New York State

3. What about the hills... well even thought we crossed the Appalachians we have not said, Oh the hills, except when it was very hot and muggy.

4 Where do you stay. 10 free camps, (gardens or by the road), 14 Warm Showers hosted, (and huge fun)10 paid camps and B and The generosity of people when we fall into their gardens and ask to camp is amazing

5 Best buy. A 40 minute bus ride, with bikes for $1 each.

6 Treats. Hereschoff boat building museum, Mystic Sea Port, Boston Institute of Modern Art, Ferry ride to Cape Cod, Niagara falls, lots of swims and more.

7 Lucky breaks, the hurricane which veered off course at the last minute, countless careful drivers and hosts going far beyond the expectation of Warm Showers.

Finding a Camp

Its a hot afternoon, we'd stayed on at a camping ground near Leeds in Maine, a bus camper on the next site, had offered us the use of his Canadian Canoe, and we found this too tempting to let slide.

It was near midday when we left the camp.
Not very interesting country, a late stop at a Supermarket and no offers for a place to put our tent, we got on the road and were put straight into a decent hill, climbing up from a river valley.

I was keeping an eye out for country dwellers out in their gardens, no one in sight, then a few kilometres along I saw a mailbox with something like a stuffed poo bear sticking its head out of a box, two women sitting on a balcony 100 m off the road,

“What about them” I called back to Val, she surprised me by saying

“They look a bit too alternative” - just the reason I thought they were worth a try, by this time we were well past and tooling along nicely, even though the heat was still in the air. Another shorp hill, the road taking a curving right hand bend, two minor roads running off to the left

“What about the forest down the side road” Val called,

I was looking at a horsey establishment on our side of the road and continued on. Val had got off the bike and was pushing it the last bit of the hill,there was a man shoving his snow plow into his garage on the other side of the road. Looking back I waved my arm thinking Val would see me, and rode up Mr Snow Ploughs drive.

“Hullo, we are from New Zealand on a cycle tour and are looking for a small pathc of grass to put our small tent for the night”.

“Uh, we don't really have much room here”he said, trying to ignore the one or two acres of mowed grass either side of the house, "maybe the horse place on the other side of the road would be a better ask. There's your wife just going past now”.

Just as well he spoke, Val had obviously not seen my hand signal and was just about at top pace chasing me, when I called to her. Just as she arrived on the drive, Mrs Snow Plough came out the front door, maybe she would be more forthcoming.

“These folk are from New Zealand honey; looking for a place to camp, I just suggested the horse farm over the road, they have more space than us”.

“New Zealand?” she exclaimed, “”Where all the sheep come from. I know that because I am a Spinner”,
Val pricked up her ears, and looked for an opportunity to claim a point of interest. (There's a subtle phychology to begging for shelter) We were then deflated by
“ No we have not got a lot of room here really”. I swear I heard the ride-on mower in the shed give a sigh of disbelief!

Just then a ute drove into the Horse Farm and we decided to head that way. Twenty minutes later we had the billy on and the tent up, with tea underway, tucked in behind the horse stables and alongside the post and rail corral, we were “home”for the night.



Camping at Carol's Horse Stud, somewhere north of Portland, Maine , with 45 pawing and kicking companions alongside us for the night.

Val Hangs Out The Washing

 

Clearly the best way to dry the washing is on ones helmet. And I do think the a display of wet underwear draped about the bike when parked must be a good burglar deterrant.
We have enjoyed the luxury of washing machines at the many host houses, but I have fond memories of washing things in mountain streams here and there

 

There are new laws in the states we have traveled in, demanding that mororists give way to pedestrians and bikers. People are enthusiastic in their compliance, almost to the point of embarassment to us. We stop at an intersection, wondering which way to go, but when traffic has stopped in all directions we cross the road, even if its not the way we want to go. We are thankful and amazed by the courtesy of 99.99% of drivers.

 

George, our most generous host in Boston, biked with us down town to catch to ferry to Provincetown. He explained that bike çulture could be different in various parts of town. So in the more relaxed are round the varsity we learned to Salmon.... that is go agaist the flow of traffic in a one ay street. It was all OK while I was riding hard on Georges back wheel, ttusting to luck as we dipped and dived across main streets, in and out of cycle ways and underpasses. Thanks George and Judy for a fun stay,(including Scrabble American size... (21 squares each way)

The Canadian Bit

 

Our Warm Showers hosts were at Marieville 45Ks East of Montreal, a good distance for our first days ride. However, by the time we arrived at their place we had 77Ks on our speedo and feeling quite exhausted. We were met about 15 ks out from Marieville by Michelle, our host and three of her nine children. What an amazing family. They live in a big rambling unfinished house of grand design.


 

Wooden tiled floor with occasional mosaics designed by Michelle, drawn and cut out in various timbers representing each of her children . In the work in progress main bedroom upstairs where we slept , a round mosaic with seed pods from differnt parts of the world, inclucing some Bunya Nuts from Queensland, had just been routed out and put into the floor the very day we arrived.

 

A real farmstyle meal with a whole chicken in the big casserole pot, a big bowl of potatoes and salad, the large table surrounded with six of the nine children , Michelle, Pierre, Val and I everyone spoke very good english and we had a livel y and enjoyable meal.

 

Michelle, her husband Pierre – French born – are a real pair of adventurers, just before her first son was born, they did a 3 month horse ride up the west coast of USA, then not long ago took the whole 9 kids on a Trans Canada cycle trek, Michelle making a film which she will be taking around schools in Canada, to demonstrate how families can have fun, helping each other and making the most of the great outdoors

From The Sidelines With Val

 

Cick on the pics to make them bigger.
There will no more moments like this, now the GPS is full of maps of America. Don and an Irish cycle tourist had a merry couple of hours transfering from Morgan's GPS to Don's.


 

Never , ever, drink Tim Hortons Coffee. A chain of shops has spread like the pox across Canada, and in to USA. It tases unspeakably bad. Sam, owner of Java coffee in Lexington ville, a real dusty sofa, whirring fan sort of a place, says the stuff is fixed, so people become addicted to it, (more than ordinary coffee???)His place was pretty quiet.

 

Mom, Pop and Mary Lou take a nice walk by the ocean. Its nearly time for school to start up again, but many reluctant teens can be seen out and about.

 

Don, Luke and I heading off in Lukes powder blue roadster. Sometimes I feel not a day over 40.

Val Sketches From The Track

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I was drawing, a slightly judgemental picture, of Camp America, when the lovely owner offered to loan us his canoe. We had a sunny paddle up the river. Thanks man.


 
Mr Dentist, his wife and her brother were surpried to find us camping in their forest. But no problem, we were invited to walk the grounds and see the water fall, the lake and go up to the log cabin for a shower and a beer. More grateful thanks.


 
Here we are , tackling the kiddy size ice cream. Maybe this will be the first bike trip where we do not shed some kilos.

Cool Hand Luke

We spent two nights at the house of a Warm Showers host in Portland, Maine.
Luke, had only been a member for just over two weeks when he got our email the day before we arrived, we had hoped to call him on the phone and confirm, but we arrived along the street he lived on before we found a phone.

Fortunately he was home from work having a late lunch when we knocked on his door, he made us most welcome, and was all for putting us in one of the spare bedrooms when we found out his wife did not know anything about Warm Showers (or the fact that we had been in touch,) on top of this she was expecting two of her brothers with their wives and kids for a holiday stay the next night,so we insisted on putting up our tent in the backyard.

His wife was most gracious when she arrived home to find strangers camping on the lawn and taking over the bathroom, she even invited us to a surprise party for a friend of hers some way out of town as well as to the barbeque she was putting on for her family and a few friends the next night. She went off to her friends surprise party, Luke went back to work for a couple of hours.



When Luke came home he loaded Val and I into his 1962 Ford Coupe, one of those extremely long and wide cars, it had a hood that folded down and a front seat that would fit four at a squeeze.

Off we went, and at every traffic light someone from the next car would lean out and tell Luke what a great car, what size motor did it have (think it was a 360)etc, etc. then when it got to sunset, they started telling him that the near side tail light was not working - this happened at least three times.



Val just loved the big gas guzzler, you can tell by the look on her face, and it made us both laugh out loud as she sat there. What an experience.

Next night at the family barbecue, we witnessed another side of American life, when a snitchy neighbour, firstly called the police and reported Lukes boy and his cousin for playing with fireworks (they were'nt, someone over the road had let off an exploding skyrocket) but the first we saw was a fully armed policewoman appear in the corner of the garden, looking at me and asking if I was the parent!!
Luke was quickly summoned and soon sorted this out. Then later in the night when one of the guests had stoked up the in ground fire pit a bit too high, causing the odd spark, but nothing too bad, we suddenly had two firemen appear from the same corner of the garden, brandishing fire extinguishers with which they proceeded to hose the fire out.

We wondered what Luke was going to turn on next.

From Our Side Of The Track

 

Roads in USA (for the most part) have a wide safety lane, which is great for cycling, drivers have been very courteous, and even though the separation is more than adequate, still go our over the centreline to pass - and drivers coming the other way give them room - quite unlike NZ, where drivers appear to go as close as possible, without knocking you off the bike.

 

Here we crossed the famous Appalachian tramping trail which runs almost from top to bottom of the USA. We were familiar with it from Bill Bryson's book on it.

 

In spite of warnings to watch out for Moose, and "You'll see them on the road, around here", this is the closest we got to the real thing. Of course, we did not have expert corroboration of the find, but are reasonably confidant in our claim.

 

We called this "Coyote Camp" just after dark, a coyote started calling from up above in the forest, after a couple of howls, another started up below us and across the road from our camp, both kept calling and getting closer, eventually meeting up less than 100 metres from us. At this point all went quite, so we assumed that love conquered all, and they loped off into eternal bliss.

Val's View From The Track

 

Val says... "'Don and Val on balls on bikes... trying to find the balance."..
Hello....Lily, the most delightful host in Montreal is a yoga and dance teacher, (philosopher, biker and much else) She provided us with 2 hard rubber balls, covered with spikes, with which to massage away all the stress and strain of the day. They can be very painful, so presumably very good for us!!