Therese Marie

The long awaited weekend approached.

I had been riding for one work week and finally, I had two full days to just go. I went into the weekend with big hopes to do Big Miles. But a thought did occur to me: while I definitely had the time, did I have the energy to bike that far?

I started to feel very, very tired every day. I’m not sure if it was due to me generally over-working myself by trying to hold down a job while I bike 35+ miles a day and ride out the stress of organizing camping/Warmshower hosts/safe places to stay as I go, or if I just wasn’t taking care of myself.

I started to get the feeling that I really wasn’t taking care of myself.

But! No matter. Saturday came and I figured I’d knock out the miles early in the day so I could have a fun afternoon in Utica, NY. I mean…I don’t know. It’s a city in upstate New York. I’m not out here for anything groundbreakingly new, just maybe a fun time, good food, and a beer.

So I rode and rode and rode. I started seeing more and more people with loaded bikes! Which was exciting! Except for one caveat: they were all headed in the opposite direction. I started to realize ANOTHER thing: the way most people do this trail is from Buffalo to Albany, and they don’t often mess with any other part of it (meaning the Hudson Valley part or the Champlain Valley part).

I had a good Saturday, I got to my spot in Utica and did what I said I would do, ate good food and had a good beer. Utica doesn’t really have anything hugely alluring, though I WILL say I met a lady with amazing tattoos, so I might have to come back to go to her artist.

Sunday was difficult.

I woke up feeling so very, very tired. Again. I felt cranky and crabby upon starting the ride. So I gave in to my irritation and stopped at a Lock. That’s when I fully learned that you can camp at these locks for the price of for free. I wanted to just stay there, even though I’d barely gone 5 miles and it was only 2:30pm. All this planning and time-crunching and mile-crushing was getting to me.

But so were the mosquitoes.

I talked to another pair of riders who were heading in the opposite direction, per usual. The man was very friendly and he told me about how easy it is to camp at the locks. “That’s why I do it! Such a cheap vacation honestly.” He told me that it was possible to camp at a museum in Camillus, but wasn’t sure how far I was looking to go. Camillus was about 50 miles away.

Fine, screw it, I thought. Let’s go.

I went. I went and went and went.

I told my brain to shut the heck up, I popped in my headphones, and I had a pretty fun ride. That whole section was gravel gravel gravel, and there weren’t a lot of people walking, so I just tuned out and jammed. I called my family. I got into the groove.

Camillus is on the other side of Syracuse.

When I arrived in Syracuse, it was sunset. A beautiful sunset at that.

Which meant I would be riding in the dark again, because I still had 10 miles to go. I felt much more prepared this time. I retro-actively had a lot of fun riding in the dark last week, so I felt pretty good about it this time!

Like almost every day, I found myself with 1% battery remaining on my phone.

This proved to be exceptionally irritating this time because the trail got re-routed due to construction in the center of Syracuse. I had to goad my pitifully powered phone to stay alive long enough for me to figure out where the heck I’m actually supposed to be going.

On the other side of the city was a greenway around a river, and the sky was streaked with the colors of the dying light. I knew I was running late, but I had to pause. The world is really so beautiful. And here I was, on a beautiful mild night, alone on a bridge somewhere in upstate New York, surrounded by people in the distance living their lives, going about all their things.

Eventually, I had to give in to the power demands of my cellphone. I stopped at the security gate outside the New York Fairgrounds, conveniently located right on the trail as my phone was about to shut off. I talked with the security guard for awhile about the happenings of the day, how he used to ride his bike until he picked up smoking. I had so many more questions, but it was late, starting to rain, and felt too intrusive to ask.

Something I appreciated about the whole interaction, though, was that he didn’t tell me I was stupid for being a young lady out after dark on a bike alone. He believed me that I had a plan, that I had somewhere to go. That kind of quick, silent acknowledgement felt really good.

I’m sure you’re not going to be surprised when I tell you I couldn’t find the campground. I got to a small boathouse in the dark. There was a small pathway next to it, like the biker had described. But as I walked past the abandoned boathouse and into the dark, encompassing woods, I realized that this is how horror movies start. And I could just simply turn around, because cinema wasn’t pinning their plot on me walking any further.

I stumbled into a nearby hotel. I told her I would’ve booked it online, but my phone battery was at 1% again, and riding on at 9pm with no phone felt like a dumb idea. “You’re living your best life,” she said, and we laughed. Thriving, really.

Things are about to change fast.

I’m writing these posts retro-actively. We’re looking back in time after all. I know how this story ends, and it’s – well, it’s pretty alright. Everything ends up ok. But oh, dear Reader, things are about to change quickly.

(I’m making this sound so foreboding! It’s not that bad, really, haha I swear! Ok, until next time!)

Fly on,

Lil