Plants need watering, bicyclists don’t: Day 5

It’s a cool and rainy morning in Syracuse as we look to bike 48 miles to Rome. Unlike our circuitous entrance to Syracuse through a maze of back roads, our exit couldn’t be simpler, safer or nicer. A new bike trail has been built on Erie Boulevard (on top of a filled in section of the Erie Canal)  that is smooth, protective and a joy to ride. It leads us to Towpath Road, where the old canal picks up.

The air is clean and moist but not too humid after last night’s rain. We feel strong as we traverse a small incline to pass over an expressway and coast down to the entrance of Old Erie Canal State Historic Park. This canal is the expanded version of the original.

Seeing that the rain is getting stronger, we cover our saddlebags as well as ourselves in anticipation of a wetter ride. Our assumptions hold true and we spend most of the day in rain gear. Ironically, only on a vacation like this do you bicycle because you have no other choice. Each day there is a different hotel to get to and distance that needs to be covered. But we don’t mind and expect it to some degree. 

With the rain, wildlife is in hiding. No birds are out. Bugs are no where to be found. Rabbits and groundhogs are snug in their respective dens. The activity of the day is muted.

With the rain abating, an opaque mist rises off the canal water obscuring the reflection of the surrounding trees. The birds come out looking for food and a few butterflies flutter about. Observations are more fleeting for me as my main focus is not to slip on the stone dust with my bike though I try to catch a glance around when I can. Hooded rain gear makes that a trying task.

With a break in the rain, we decide to stop at the Canal Boat Museum in Chittenango. It is a fabulous place with great historical artifacts and descriptions of work and life when the canal was alive with commerce and traffic unlike today. A scale model ship, a sawmill, general store and dry dock are some of the well-prepared exhibits. This visit is a welcome departure for us to take. 

Leaving the museum, the rain starts and increases in intensity. Soon it is falling in sheets and its sound reverberates in my ears as heavy raindrops bounce off the hood covering my helmet. My legs become drenched as do my biking shorts. My sneakers fill with water and little about me feels dry. Approaching the next town we hope to stop, dry off and get some lunch. (See separate post.)

After a wonderful lunch we pedal off, halfway to Rome. The sky is unable to make up its mind concerning weather to rain or not. Intermittent sprinkles start and stop. But the ducks care little and we spot two cylindrical mallard nests made of metal mesh propped up in the canal. A wetlands across the street to our left is filled with birds swooping high and then landing low. A hawk flies overhead with lunch dangling from its talons. It flies over a continuous stand of northern white cedar that line the other side of the canal.

This portion of the canal is supported by a number of aqueducts, which take the canal over other bodies of water. They are truly amazing engineering achievements. Soon we find ourselves trapped between the canal on one side and a road with speeding cars on the other. Only does the buffer of wildflowers and tall grasses mute the effect.

Stopping can be dangerous now because the mosquitoes come to visit the moment we slow down. Ted is particularly vulnerable as these blood suckers prefer him to me (not that I am complaining). So any stop is short and brief.

For the remainder of our time, we are on and off dedicated trails and must share the road with cars and other traffic. But there is a consistency in this as we hug the canal on one side or the other. Sometimes our path bisects hay and corn fields and other times we ride in a cathedral of vegetation. In some places, the canal has little water but is filled with cattails and croaking bull frogs taking on the appearance of a swamp.

The trees along the towpath have become more diverse. Black and white birch, black cherry, locust, chestnut oak and others create a diverse palette of trees. Also volunteer apple trees appear in places where they normally do not belong though I am sure no one (or thing) minds harvesting their fruits.

Closing in on Rome, we pass over lock 21 as a boat passes through it. We push on finding ourselves in a wooded glade bisected by our path. At first glance, there is little evidence of an old canal but soon it comes into view filled with a thick coating of green algae and many turtles lined up like soldiers in a row.  They are sunning themselves and the clouds have cleared.