After a delightful breakfast discussion with some fellow travelers, Ted and I leave yet again on a rainy, cloudy morning. Today’s slog of 65 miles to Canajoharie is our longest trip yet and with rain expected for most of the day, we expect to get wet.
Approaching the Mohawk River, the trail is nicely paved and winds through a lovely park and promenade by the water. Soon we cross over to the other side and feel safe as there is little traffic on the road and the rain is but a slight mist—nothing I need to put on my rain gear for.
Five days on the road has toughened up not only my resolve but legs as the aches and pains of every evening have faded. Biking over 8 hours each day now seems second nature.
I will need this strength as we hit a section of trail that is dirt and grass. It is easy to lose control with a bike laden like a pack mule with one’s possessions. Key to not losing control is to maintain a straight line and not try to steer out of mud in an erratic fashion. Both Ted and I learned these lessons from our trip on the muddy and mostly unimproved C&O canal trail.
We both attempt to dodge puddles and the mud but after a while we and our bikes are covered with dirt and it then makes little sense to attempt these diversions.
This could be a very long day.
We should expect this as the streams surrounding the trail are flush with brown bubbling water flowing into the nearby bodies. This activity is keeping most animals at bay though a lone snapping turtle attempts to block our path.
We take a break along with the rain and the adjoining canal is languid, half of which is coated with a light green algae the other half being a dirty brown. At least a half dozen American goldfinches are swarming around us flittering between trees and the high grasses.
Moving ahead, we keep a good distance from each other for safety sake. We are still dodging in and out of the trail puddles, ruts and mud. Next to us, the Mohawk River looks dangerously close to the trail with some sections only 1 foot higher than the water.
After a short diversion to the street, we are back on the trail and it is no longer a muddy mess but solid asphalt. Our bikes roll effortlessly. Who ever thought asphalt could be so wonderful?
The rain starts again. And then it stops.
Passing through Utica, we enter a newly constructed section of the trail and it is quite lovely. To our left is a flooded wetlands and to the right is the Mohawk River. The wetlands are filled with many geese as well as large clumps of arrowroot. The entire area is in the process of being reclaimed and small strands of native rye grass emerge from the soil.
All good things must end and we are diverted to a side road and the rain increases in intensity.
This lone country road is flat and not well travelled so Ted and I don’t feel much angst. The solid surface with few hills permits us to keep a good pace as the rain splashes off our garments and bikes.
At this point, I really don’t care about being dry any more. Everything is wet and there is nothing to be done about it. So I try to be Zen-like and one with the weather rather than separate from it. It helps to pass the time.
In certain ways it is good to get off the trail so we can see the towns we would otherwise miss. They are are organized in the same pattern. Woods or farmlands are on the extreme outskirts, followed by occasional houses and businesses, followed by a density of a central district. Leaving, the opposite pattern occurs. I pass a solitary house with a large garden protected by a larger than life scarecrow.
Noon has long since passed and we both are more than peckish. Ted has his heart set on Crazy Otto’s Empire Diner in Herkimer. How can I say no? And I am rewarded with a wonderful meatloaf meal.
Well fueled, we look to complete our last 30 or so miles. We pass over the Mohawk River and Erie Canal, which are next to each other and rejoin the trail. And like some of the prior sections it is perfectly paved. For the first few miles, the trail adjoins the highway with lots of noise and vehicles.
But soon we veer away and the trail transitions to open fields and side buffers that have been remediated with a wide variety of native grasses, wildflowers bushes and trees. It is one of the nicest stands of plants we have seen on the trip with birds and butterflies agreeing in high number. In the background, low-lying hills are somewhat obscured by clouds and fog that have been lingering all day.
We push on though the rain and miles.
Coming to Little Falls, the trail divides two huge sections of stone that have been notched out to accommodate it. Water pours out of the rocks while mosses and other tiny plants hang on for dear life. Mini waterfalls spring to life with the draining rain.
We find ourselves in a wooded glade that isolates us. No noise, buildings or anything suggesting civilization. There are plenty of rabbits and woodchucks scampering around so I feel as if we have been transported to a different place. But this is a trick as within a few minutes I-90 comes within earshot.
For the rest of our ride, we hug I-90 as it hugs the Erie Canal and our trail. Approaching Canajoharie, the sky finally clears. Perhaps the weather will change tomorrow.
