Days 5-7: Utica-Weedsport-Spencerport-Niagara Falls
Writing daily entries proved to be too ambitious, since there is so little time after recovering from the ride and handling the daily chores of preparing for the next day. I’ll give a brief recap of the last three days and post some photos.
Day 5, from Utica to Weedsport, was rainy and cold, but that was preferable to the prior day’s heat and humidity. Around mile 30, we stopped at Flo’s Diner, home (apparently) of the world’s only 10 cent coffee. After Flo’s, we had a beautiful stretch of road along the shores of Lake Oneida, one of the Finger Lakes and the largest lake entirely within the bounds of New York State. At this point, I was rolling with Ted and Rob, and we were flying, helped by flat roads, a headwind, and teamwork, with each of us taking turns at the front of the train.
The rain eased for our last 20 miles as we rolled into Weedsport, where we camped on the ground of the Weedsport Speedway dirt racetrack. There was a celebration after dinner, featuring awards for fundraising leaders and brief remarks from the top executive of Roswell Park, followed by beer, pizza, and live music and dancing (for those with the energy).
Day 6, Weedsport to Spencersport, was the best weather of the week. A lovely ride with many miles on the gravel towpath along the Erie Canal.
I started feeling a bit feverish that evening, a portend of a disastrous night. It was cold, with temps in the low 40s, and I was unprepared, with only the lightweight throw that had been on my son’s bed when he was a toddler. I was also unprepared for the dysentery which hit me at 1 a.m. and demanded numerous brisk 75-yard walks in the silent dark between then and 5 a.m. to the portapotty parked on the tarmac. At 2 a.m. I walked 150 yards to the shower truck to fetch 4 clean towels from the bin, which I laid horizontally on top of the throw in an effort to get warm enough to sleep.
In the morning, I got a coffee and sat with the guys as they ate their bacon, eggs, hashbrowns, pancakes, yogurt, granola, and fruit. For me, eating was unimaginable. The nurse at the medical tent gave me two antidiarrhea pills and I prepared to ride. It was the final day, 75 miles to the finish line. I’d have to do it on an empty stomach.
The ESR staff offer a “boost” service, where they’ll put your bike in a truck and drive you in a van to the first (or second) rest stop, to give you an option of cycling to the next campground but only having to pedal partway. It was an option chosen with regularity by many of the less fit riders. It was not an option for me. It would be cheating.
My group rolled out at 7:30, maintaining our usual brisk pace, averaging 16.5 mph, with stretches on the flats in the low twenties, and I did my share of pulling. I made sure I stayed hydrated and took electrolyte capsules on the hour. I had half a banana at the first two rest stops, and gingerly ate a granola bar, hoping I wouldn’t regret it.
My legs kept the pedals moving somehow, and it wasn’t until 5 miles from the end that I started to flag. It was going to take more than intestinal distress to keep me from the finish line.
Rainy Day 5: The white rain jacket was porous, letting water in, which would then heat up and act like a wetsuit. When I took it off at Flo’s, water poured out of the sleeves. It actually kept me pretty warm.
Day 5, on the shores of Lake Onieda. (l-r) Ted, me, Rob. My friends from North Carolina I met and rode with two years ago at ESR23.
Near Macedon, halfway between Weedsport and Spencerport on Day 6.
Day 7: The photo on the left shows us at De Veau Woods State Park, 2 miles from the Falls. That’s where we all stopped and regrouped for a police escort to take 250 or so of us, riding two abreast, into Niagara Falls. As we entered the city, the street was lined with family and friends of the riders, with posters, bells, whistles, and shouts of congratulations. In the photo on the right, you can see water of the Niagara River as it approaches the Falls.