Therese Marie

The Beginning of the End

Day 9 was the beginning of my steady downward spiral. I hate to say it…because I KNOW that I know better…but I really wasn’t taking care of myself at all. I was absolutely not eating enough to replace the calories I was burning. Unfortunately, there were a lot of factors contributing to this lack-of-food-intake situation. Too many to unpack in this post. So, accept the blunder. It happened. I didn’t eat enough.

Then there was my pitiful water intake. I didn’t use any electrolyte replacement drinks? Why? I honestly, I really don’t know. Stupid! Stupid stupid stupid. Just, silly nonsense. Because on Day 9 I drank about 1L total, which is just! not! enough! water! for anyone!

Camping at the Lock was nice.

I had a peaceful night alone by a lock in Montezuma. No one else came, it was just me and a bunch of Blue Herons. And the stars, the stars were very nice that night.

My ride in to the lock proved to be emotional. This was one of the moments on the trip where I was thinking on overdrive, realizing truths that I hadn’t wanted to admit even only days ago, and I started to reckon with reality. With what was actually happening. I felt angry, sad, tender, embarrassed. And in the midst of all these big emotions, I looked up to see a great expanse of farmland on either side of this very straight road.

The sun was dipping closer and closer to the tree line. Everything was golden and green. A flock of birds burst up into the sky on my right. I let myself get lost in the skyline and all I could think about was the soundtrack from the Secret Life of Walter Mitty.

I think that was the moment I realized I’d found what I was looking for on this trip.

Day 10 I woke up believing I could be invincible.

I really didn’t drink enough water the day before, but that’s FINE, I told myself. “I’ll be fine I’ll just drink a body armor and a coffee and have a snack and I’ll be on my way.” I stopped at a gas station, Rosie’s Corner, and did just that. But I had to ride 5 miles to get there, so.

The body armor made me feel electric. Like, alive again. I started to come to terms with how dumb I’ve been. Why have I not been taking care of myself? Thinking back on it, I wish I ate more at Rosie’s.

There was a woman smoking a cigarette who’d come to buy a 6 pack of tallboys. “I don’t usually start my day off like this. But my brother was visiting, and you know what I woke up to this morning? No TV. No jewelry. He took it all. Sold it, for sure. I’m not getting it back. God. I am so angry, you have no idea. But I thought, you know what? I’m not going to let this ruin my day. Might as well have a good one.”

She asked questions about my trip, about why I was riding, about how long it was taking me. “I’d never be able to do that,” she said. I told her she could, though, if she really wanted to. She said that maybe since all of her valuables just got stolen, maybe it would be better living off of a bike.

I told her the best time to start a grand adventure is when you have nothing to lose. That’s what I’ve always done, at least.

We parted way, and I rode on.

But eventually, I had to stop.

And I don’t just mean, oh I had to stop because I wanted to take a little break. I had to stop because I was about to fall off of my bike. I felt absolutely TERRIBLE. I was almost hyperventilating. I was not ok. I ate a cheese stick, drank some water, and found a place nearby in Lyons to complete my workday and also eat. Because I needed food, desperately.

That’s how I happened upon the Trolley Station, which would save me in more ways than one.

While I was working and scarfing down a sandwich, a woman came in. “Is that your Surly outside?” she asked. “Yes!” and we got to talking, because she has the same one except in blue, and loves biking, and actually owns the building, and has made it a bike-friendly stop to rest and re-up on supplies. She was a host on Warmshowers, too. She gave me her card.

I kept working, then I moved to the lock/fire station to keep working there. You were allowed to camp for free there, so I thought that’s what I’d do. Hunker down. See if I could feel better after some deep rest. The day wore on. I got dinner in town. I felt worse and worse. I started thinking about my plans, about what missing a day of miles would mean for the whole trip, about how I would eventually get home, about meeting up with my friends in the Finger Lakes on the weekend. The sun set.

I soon realized I didn’t feel safe sleeping at the fire station alone. So I called the woman from the Trolley Station. She lived not far and had a place for me to stay. I almost cried.

The next morning, I needed to rest more. So I started planning.

And the grim truth became clear: my ride was over. I had done all I would do on the Empire State Trail this season.

It wasn’t a super easy decision to make, but with all the factors and upstate NY’s general lack of rental cars, I had to give in. I had to stop. I wouldn’t have been able to get home otherwise.

I won’t bore you with the details.

So, Day 11 and 12 were spent on Cayuga Lake, looking out at the water, working, regrouping, drying out my tent and clothes. Reflecting on…everything.

Even though I felt slow while I was riding, I’d still traveled such a massive distance in a short time, and I saw it all up close and personal. Being on a bike is a beautiful way to see the world.

And so comes the end of this adventure,

though like most adventures, I don’t really feel like it’s over yet. There is still much to learn from my time on the Empire State Trail, and many more stories to tell and share. For now, I’m back on my own two feet, back in my regular life, waiting for my elbows to heal, trying my best but still making mistakes in the process. Like we all do.

Thanks for following along, and I hope you’ll tune in next time?!

Until then, Fly on

Lil