You are currently browsing the daily archive for October 16, 2020.

The trail was in utter darkness, but headlamp riding had agreed with me the previous leg, so I thought to do it again.  Since Newark was the site of the new Urger mural by the mural mania folks, I wanted a photo by the mural, a photo I was too tired to take the afternoon before. My brother did the honors.

A half hour later I was at the section office in Lyons, where I’d been told by Wendy Marble that she would already be working.  A knock on her window yielded this photo by Wendy.  Note my reflective, high-vis outfit.

After a brief chat, I returned to the trail, past lock 27, and then to points east, on a refurbished towpath beside the 19th century iterations of the Erie Canal.  Initially it was smooth cinders, but not much farther, I encountered the worst trail conditions of the trip . . . before Lock Berlin, just a grassy bumpy and rutted, cleared strip.  I dismounted and pushed the bike.

At Clyde, I crossed the contemporary canal for the first time that day.

I’d long wondered how I’d cross the infamous Clyde railroad bridge, the lowest clearance of the western canal, the bridge marked by Luther Blount on subsequent transits.  For more context on the E-93 bridge that once carried the West Shore RR, click here and scroll. 

From the bike trail, that bridge looks like this as I crossed the contemporary canal the second time on day 3.

Surprisingly soon after crossing the bridge, the trail led to Route 31, and I “shared the road” with cars, trucks, tractors, and huge harvesters . .  for about 10 miles.

Eventually, I got to the east side of Port Byron, and after delicious pulled pork from the local grocery/caterers, I found the trailhead . . .

I had 20 miles or so to do yet that day, basically because I’d attained by goal of Weedsport by 1230, and figured it was too soon to take a room.

Near Weedsport, the port of Mr Weed, the trail crosses a bridge alongside one of 18 aqueducts operating in the 1860s.  I passed the bucolic scene, but I didn’t linger.

The trail was narrowed to a single tire track.

I stopped in Jordan, lock 51 of the 19th century canals.  Many sights and signs beckoned, but I had miles to run, and the forecast for the next day was not favorable.

I did stop to take stock at this sign;  assessing  my progress, I felt quite good . . . three days in the saddle and close to the midpoint..

Camillus is the home to a working aqueduct:  for a price, folks can ride a vessel through an aqueduct.  Alas, I rushed to find lodging, and took no more photos . . .  day 3 compete, 51 miles for this leg and over 160 miles total.

Report and photos by WVD.

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 1,600 other subscribers
If looking for specific "word" in archives, search here.
Questions, comments, photos? Email Tugster

Documentary "Graves of Arthur Kill" is on YouTube.

Read my Iraq Hostage memoir online.

My Babylonian Captivity

Reflections of an American detained in Iraq Aug to Dec 1990.

Archives

October 2020
M T W T F S S
 1234
567891011
12131415161718
19202122232425
262728293031