New Brunswick - Pictures

Back into Canada

Hopping the ferry to Deer Isle at low tide

The view back to Eastport

The bikes sporting new panniers and converted Office Depot inbox basket up front

Inland New Brunswick made for great pastoral riding

The world's largest tides on the Bay of Fundy

Local delicacy?  Either very expensive or the best deal in Canada

Typical "stealth" campsite...  50ft from the Trans Canada Highway

Down to the North Atlantic

Maine - Pictures



Telling it like it is...  This place smells

Bamboo bike frame in Camden.  I'd get a hernia doing this with our bikes.

What?

Belfast.  I could live here... in Summer

Lisa maintaining momemtum

Cabot Trail in Nova Scotia to Newfoundland

The first mountain crossing was fairly long with a decent grade, making for an easy climb although fairly sweaty because the humidity was intense. Coming around a turn, there were a few cars and men directing traffic as a cop car was stopped off to the side next to a yellow tarp. Oh no. Sure enough, just before we arrived, a motorcyclist must have missed the turn and ran into the rock and ditch and unfortunately died. Not a good way to start the weekend. Life is so short and this was a great reminder to be even more careful and appreciative of this time we have. So, if you are debating on taking time to do something out of the ordinary, the best advice is to just do it. That is the most difficult part.

A steep windy decent led down to Pleasant Bay where we ate our worst meal of our trip. I can't wait for American-sized portions for breakfast again one day to satisfy our ever hungry appetites. Our second climb was an intense grade over a shorter distance, 1,400ft or so over 4kms. Up, up, up. Compared to Guatemala, these climbs feel so easy, and it will take something extreme to ever complain on the bike. We wrapped our way around the park, and initially wanted to visit a few of the more northern communities that are referred to as more "wild", but the weather was spitting rain, opting to carry on the shorter routes. The rainy days are not as enjoyable but we must take the good with the bad and let's be honest, there are not many other places I would rather be.

Wanting shelter and place to get dry we came across a picnic area on a beach just as the sun was setting. No visitors and a three-sided shelter with a wood burning stove to warm our bodies, dry our clothes and a dry place to put our tent. Yep, tent inside with a fire to keep us warm and the sound of the surf breaking. Heaven. We set up late and took down early. The only downfall was that we didn't have enough fuel for our stove, so we unfortunately could not cook. Chips and cookies for dinner and granola bars for breakfast. We stayed through the morning, keeping warm by the fire while sitting in our chairs and reading our books as the worst of the weather passed by 10:30am. It was a wet day on the bikes, but not a soaker. Our wool clothing comes in handy in this weather, keeping us fairly dry and relatively comfortable.

Finding moose

After stocking our food supply in Cheticamp, we stopped at our first true coffee stop in weeks. Frog Pond Cafe is a little hut on the side of the road that had delicious coffee, something that is not an easy find in Canada. Canadians love Tim Hortons and as much as I try, I just cannot understand the draw. Don't get me wrong, we do stop for an iced coffee (which are surprisingly good as long as consumed unsweetened with the tiniest drop of cream which somehow still comes too white). If you happen to make your way around the Cabot Trail, the coffee stand is well worth the stop.

The ride starts off with rolling hills, windy along the road and into Cape Breton Highlands National Park. The second campground we came to was Corney Brook, offering maybe 25 open spots that overlook the ocean, simply beautiful. No electric, no frills but they did offer flush toilets but no potable water. We pulled in just as two travelers with backpacks almost as big as them were getting out of a car. These two ladies (oddly enough both named Lisa) in their mid 20's were from Germany and spending five months hitch hiking around Canada. How brave and cool is that? I am impressed. Before long, we were sharing a sight with them and another woman Jane, a solo traveler in her 60's from Ontario traveling in her Mazda Miata with a small tent. They set their tent up and Ryan kindly offered to set ours up while we hiked. He would stay behind to rest his foot. The three Lisa's set off walking our way uphill on the road with our thumbs out heading for the Skyline trailhead.

Walking maybe a mile, we were eventually picked up by an Israelian couple also on their way to hike. Taking a seat inside, I could understood why the Lisa's enjoyed this means of travel. They have been taken in by such wonderful people and are truly living day to day, embracing life as it comes. Kudos to them.

Taken in again

Spending the night in a picnic area with "No Camping" signs obviously posted, we were up bright and early. My favorite time of day to be on the bike is in the early morning. The air is crisp, few cars, no honks and full of energy. The only thing lacking is coffee and breakfast but I know my growling stomach will be satisfied soon with a delicious breakfast and chance to catch up on any news. We happily sit for a good two hours reading about the Olympics (for Ryan) and doing the crosswords/sudoku/word games (for me). The morning is my favorite time of the day when we wake early enough to enjoy those quieter moments.

Like I said, I have been craving a home. A place to sit that is cushioned and cook a delicious dinner that mostly consisted of vegetables. What do you know, it actually happened. We heard of a few places to possibly eat lobster which we have yet to enjoy because 1. it's a bit expensive, 2. we do not have a pot big enough to cook it ourselves, 3. Ryan had an allergic reaction to shellfish in the past, so eating it and having him react in the middle of nowhere is not that appealing. But, we pulled into a parking lot of a restaurant with a seafood sign and a guy was pulled over fixing his windshield wiper. Before long we were talking and he offered for us to put our tent up in his yard. A few minutes later he offered for us his home until he got back around 9:30pm; a shower, any food in the refrigerator, fresh veggies to pick from the garden. Yes! I was so thankful.

We parted ways knowing we would see him in a few hours. First stop, a dip in the crystal clear ocean with views going north and south of curving roads with just that one beautiful home sitting on the lands edge. Who lives there? The land here is spectacular, definitely some of the most beautiful we have seen in all of our travels. The pictures cannot do justice, you will just have to visit and explore yourself. Trust me, it's worth it. Kevin, the nice gentleman who offered his home, wanted to take a stab at homemade blueberry pie this evening, so we stopped at the local shop for some peaches, thinking if we are going through the trouble to make 1 pie from scratch, why not double the recipe and make two. We arrived at his house and without even sitting down, I grabbed a bowl and went directly to the garden to pick fresh veggies. Heaven. Snap peas, delicious. Beans, yum. Lettuce. Before long I had made myself right at home and was whipping us dinner while listening to the Olympics on the radio.

Nova Scotia ferry to Mabou

Our first ride in Nova Scotia was not in the enjoyable category. We followed the 4 lane highway for 70 miles, which was ok at times because it allowed for a shoulder. The unfortunate part came with the uphills, allotting two lanes for the automobiles and leaving nothing for us but a mere white line right on the edge of the pavement. One passing car full of guys yelled something out the window that ended with the word "fuck" while another car coming toward us went well out of their comfort zone to give us the finger. What is with people and their hatred of bicycles? To be honest, those are not the people who get to me. The ones that get to me brush by us and more often than not are driving a Dodge Ram. Again, why? I grip my handlebars and tighten my body to avoid losing my wheel traction and ride through the thick gravel that is tough to keep balance.

The first nights sleep was along the highway with the sweet lullaby of the swooshing cars lulling us to sleep. The ground was soft and we were well hidden, making for another surprisingly good nights rest.

Hitting the turn off from the highway at Cape Breton Island, we hopped on a bike path that was once railroad tracks and runs between the road and the water. Our next night of camping was one of our best yet... like it was meant for our tent. A circle of mowed grass on a cliff overlooking the water surrounded by overgrown shrubbery. After watching the sunset over the ocean, the lapping of the water and the light drizzle of rain made for an amazing nights sleep. This is why I love what we do.
Riding quite a long distance, Ryan's foot starting bothering him. It has even started to turn green and blue and he limps quite a bit when walking. Ouch. We took a slow day once we arrived in Port Hood which worked out perfectly because a 5 hour soaker of a storm came in and sat right above us. Luckily we found shelter with a grocery store diagonally across the street and a campground with showers for $1 just two blocks away. We easily managed to waste away an afternoon eating, reading, showering and resting Ryan's foot.

PEI to Nova Scotia

Not wanting to leave PEI, we rode our way through the north-eastern portion, more or less making a figure eight. The first day after stacking wood, we stopped in the town of Montague and found the 125th anniversary for The Guardian newspaper. They had platforms of papers dating back to 1887. Ryan and I strolled through and enjoyed reading the old columns that talked of a man shooting a woman who was not properly dressed standing in a window to "teach her a lesson", the building of the Titanic and then its run in with the iceberg, to the crowning of Queen Elizabeth. It was all very interesting, and when we read all that was offered, we happily enjoyed a free lunch of egg and tuna sandwiches accompanied with cookies. Talking with a group of local single older women, we were photographed for the paper. I wonder if our picture made it in?

Hitting the bike path after Montague, we got stuck in a storm but were fortunate to find shelter and wifi in the small port town of Cardigan. That evening we treated ourselves to dinner (something we do not often do and greatly miss from our previous life in Boulder). For me, an enormous burger accompanied with a baked potato and coleslaw, and for Ryan, a fried haddock sandwich with a baked potato. The portions were surprisingly large which is not always the case in Canada and the food was delicious. I think we would both recommend a stop at the Light House in Cardigan.

The rain subsided and we rode for an hour and a half before the sun sank below the horizon and we set up camp in the trees along the bike path. These camp spots along the trail are fantastic; soft ground because of the moss, many trees to block anyone from spotting us, both making it easy to sleep without worry and not having to get up at the crack of dawn. I love nights like these. Do people wonder how we put our tent in random places and feel safe? It has become so normal in our lives as we ride that I do not even think about it anymore. The times when I get nervous are when we are close to a city and there is the smallest chance that a crazy person will happen upon our tent. Ryan thinks I have a very active imagination. Yes, I do also realize how ridiculous the chances of that happening are. Thanks a lot dad! When we are tucked in the woods, away from any road, I sleep like a baby. It tends to be more enjoyable than any campground. Silent and cheap, keeping our travels going for as long as they have. Although these days, we are coming to the end of our finances and will get jobs sooner than later. How will we transition back into society?

Putting the wood in (for the winter in PEI)

The first true town, and I use the word town lightly because it's size could not have been more than a few hundred residents, we came to was Hunter Valley. Nothing more than a gas station, post office, church and bakery/restaurant where we ate for breakfast. Yum. Prince Edward Island is fairly pricey and this was extremely reasonable and the food was delicious. Ryan and I both opted for the special: 2 eggs, 2 huge sausages, potatoes and homemade raisin toast. What a way to start our day! By the time we left the restaurant it was actually afternoon because we once again enjoyed the Prince Edward locals, sharing our stories and learning about the lobster and hand line cod fishing. We would both love the opportunity to give a hand at fishing by hand line, but I guess that will come sometime later in life.

We rode our way along a bike path the entire way to Charlottetown, the "big city" for the 150,000 occupant island. There were a surprising number of big box stores, allowing us to resupply and get out of the intense heat and sunshine. Ryan had been in email contact with a the boat builder of Norseboats, a type of "swiss army knife" of boats he has had his eyes on for a good 8 years. This guy lived on the island and we thought we could stop by his place to meet him and Ryan could check out one of his boats. Before deciding to bike tour in 2009, we talked of sailing one of these 17 foot sailboats that are capable of sailing, rowing and camping aboard for a trip from Nova Scotia to the Caribbean. Maybe that will be a future trip of ours? Who knows.

Ryan had emailed that we would be showing up one of two days, not giving a specific time and did not have a way to call since we no longer own a cell phone. We showed up and they were out for the night. Bummer. We carried on down the country road to the lighthouse at the end of the point, hoping to find a space for our tent near the water without being shooed away by the locals. A family was in the front yard of a house playing croucette (a Gladstone favorite that was often played throughout my childhood). One of us made a comment and that started a short chat and found out the family would be stacking wood in the barn for the winter and jokingly suggested we come help tomorrow morning between 8-12. Great! A way for us to pay forward a bit of the kindness we have received forward.
Camping by the lighthouse was no problem and the lapping of the waves and cool breeze made for nice nights sleep. A gross first attempt at a new type of breakfast that advertised no sugar and extra fiber, we begrudgingly ate and dumped the uncooked grains in the garbage before riding to the house where they were stacking wood. The entire family, ranging in age from 13-70, were all lined up, passing log after log down the chain to be stacked in the barn. Ryan and I found a spot and started twisting to take and give logs. This went on until noon when we were offered showers, laundry and lunch.

The family could not have been nicer, constant joking with one another, us included. Moments like these definitely make me miss my family. I wonder when the next time will be that all my siblings and parents are in one room doing just the same. Sitting back and observing I took notice of the kindness and affection given throughout the family members. The dad/grandfather sat down beside his 44 year daughter, swung an arm around her and said, "Have I told you how much I love you today?" She responded with, "Yes." I smiled from inside to out and was reminded yet again of the importance of keeping in contact with family and friends. Life is all about human interaction and nothing beats family, whether that means blood or the family you make.

We ended up spending the entire day with them and camped out back before leaving fairly early. While passing logs through the basement window of the 80 year old neighbor's house , a rather large log was dropped right on Ryan's ankle. Because of the swelling and the inevitable aches with all the pedaling along, we only rode 60 kilometers before finding shelter in the town of Cardigan. We planned on riding from the bridge to the ferry and then over to Nova Scotia, but the island is simply too beautiful to only explore for 3 days. We will extend our travels and make a figure 8 on the eastern portion before making our way to Nova Scotia.

New Brunswick to Prince Edward Island

Jean, the woman who invited us to camp in her backyard, offered for us to join her, her sister and brother-in-law for dinner on the back deck. We happily accepted and spent a wonderful evening eating delicious food with great company. Just what we needed. Being on the road is absolutely a fantastic life, something I would not trade for the world, but it does get a bit redundant at times. Nights like these are rejuvenating and often give us an extra little pep in our pedal and conversations.

We woke early to buckwheat pancakes and coffee. Thank you again, Jean. What a host at such an opportune time. Shower. Laundry. Conversation. Food. What else could we possibly need in life? The road outside of Shediac was fairly terrible, many potholes and cracks and plenty of cars. This continued 22k to the main highway. Most people want the quiet roads, always avoiding any major highway. The tranquility is welcomed but the highway does offer big shoulders and smooth pavement. Oddly enough, I tend to feel safer on the major roads for these reasons as well.

We spent most of the day on the back roads, covering miles surrounded by farms and forests and the occasional motorcycle. Blue skies and temperatures in the 70's made for a perfect day on the bike. The cooler temperatures have definitely increased our appetites. Here is our list of food split between the 2 of us: 4 pancakes, 1 whole chicken, 1 large bag of potato chips, 2L Sprite, footlong sub, can of sardines with 2 tortillas, and 2 tortillas with peanut butter. This is a lot of food, yes? Well, I am sitting in the tent dreaming of what I can eat in the morning. Our appetites are in full force. What I wouldn't give for a brownie sundae right about now.

Crossing over to Prince Edward Island can be done via boat if coming from Nova Scotia or by bridge coming from New Brunswick. A private company built the bridge which was completed in 1997, charges cars $44, bicyclists $8.75 and walker $4.50 when they exit the island to pay for the cost of the bridge which is estimated to be paid off in 35 years. The 13 kilometer bridge is the longest in the western hemisphere and is quite a stunner but does not allow bicyclists of pedestrians. We rode to the information center that sits close to the bridge where they provide a phone to call the shuttle if it is not waiting outside. Within 15 minutes, our bikes and gear were loaded and we were on our way to one of the most beautiful spots I have ever seen.

First accident in 25,000 miles....not too bad

We started the morning with a cup of coffee and free wifi off the first exit from our home in the woods at Tim Horton's. Tim Horton's almost always has a line out the door, but neither Ryan nor I can understand why. The coffee is not very good, but we are thankful and appreciative for a place to sit and rest our legs throughout our days and moments off the bike.

Rather than taking the highway, we moved one street over and followed rt. 134 to the town of Shediac. One would think that traveling by any other means than the highway would be safest for a bicycle, but sometimes that is not the case. The highway tends to have a huge shoulder where some side streets have nothing but potholes and car flying by at 60mph. Riding along, we came across a golf course with maybe two holes running parallel to the road. I was tucked as close as possible to Ryan's bike, drafting off him and avoiding the wind in our face as much as possible. Out of nowhere we here, "HEY!!!!! blah blah blah blah!" Not understanding what this man on the golf course is yelling to us. Often times, the people who yell are saying something negative about us on the road, which of course we both assumed was the case. Either something negative or possibly something was wrong with our bikes, etc. Ryan gently slowed down as I looked at this guy off to my right, not knowing Ryan was putting on his brakes. Before I knew it, my tire was caught between Ryan's wheel and his pannier and I could not get out. As I pulled left in attempts to release my tire, it did eventually come free, causing me to twist the tire and the bike to go down, right in the middle of the street. Thankfully the car behind me was paying attention and not driving too fast. He slowed right down and did not hit me or the oncoming traffic. Wow! That was a shock. Our first true bike accident. My hand went down and rubbed some of the skin away, along with the skin on my left ankle, knee and hip. My head hit the ground fairly hard, forcing the brim to fly off. I am so glad I was wearing my helmet. I quickly got up, picked up my bicycle and pulled off to the side, gave the cars in both directions a wave to let them know I was ok.

Middle of New Brunswick

I forgot to mention that Dave, the guy who bought us dinner and would not take any money, has four jobs and three children to support. It just blows me away that people go out of their way to give us something. We woke fairly early, ready and waiting by the time Fred opened the doors and gladly took our time cleaning up in the ultra clean restrooms. Fred has lived a fascinating life, spending time in England and Saudi Arabia. He is quite the storyteller and we happily listened to his stories before taking off toward town for breakfast. Also, Fred gave us a $25 gift card to Tim Horton's, the Starbucks of Canada. What a guy.

Getting off the highway at Saint John, we opted for the free ferry to the Kindston Peninsula. A windy and hilly road through forest and farmlands along the river. The road quieted but a short stream of cars would come by periodically when the first cable ferry in the world crossed the river. We continued east -northeast up the Kennebecasis River valley. There are plenty of Dairy farms and forests that stretch for miles, making us feel like we were back in Vermont. This really is a wonderful place to ride bikes.

Making it to the town of Sussex two hours before dark, we got our requisite ice cream and were given directions to the outskirts of town for a free place to camp behind a local community hall. Although there were not many trees to hide behind, we set up camp just as the sunset and slept like babies without anyone the wiser. For unknown reasons, possibly the hillier roads, we were exhausted even after a full 10 hours of sleep.

Maine into New Brunswick

Our last night in Maine was spent just outside the town of Machias with a family that does not live life in the traditional sense. The children are home schooled, mom and dad often travel at different times throughout the year because Paul is a writer and Regina certifies organic farms, Paul and his son Asher (at the time 8 years old) hiked the entire Appalachian trail over a 7 month period, they have goats and chickens, an enormous garden, and left the United States to live in Mexico during the Bush years. I could go on for quite awhile. We spent the evening munching on snap peas freshly picked from the garden and popcorn made by Oona (12 year old daughter) while sharing stories of travel and experiences. What a way to end our riding in the states.

We crossed into Canada through the town of Lubec, riding over the bridge and smoothly checking in with border agent before exploring Campobello Island. This island is shared land between The United States and Canada, once owned and now donated by the Roosevelts. Totaling 9 by 3 miles, we easily and thoroughly enjoyed the beautifully kept land, cooking dinner by the water as the sun set before stashing our tent in the mossy woods.

The next day, we hopped a ferry (only $3 per person including bike) to Deer Island that was much less inhabited than we expected. The quiet roads were a nice change from highway 1 we had been following through Maine. The roads were a constant up and down, but the scenery made it worthwhile. The water surrounding this part of New Brunswick is a deep blue that is surrounded by forests. The occasional harbor, stack of lobster pots and smell of sweet salt water put constant grins on our faces as we rode on this almost perfect day. We caught another ferry to the mainland where we joined more cars but were fortunately still able to enjoy the beauty. Even riding on the four lane highway, we would find ourselves saying, "Wow....look at that lake." It is truly breath-taking with so much un-inhabited land.

Maine

Making our way across Maine, the weather has stayed warm and the humidity has remained high. We are mostly damp, never really drying off unless we stop for a few minutes and drape our clothes over our bike. Any chance we have, we soak our heads in the coolest water we can find... be that a river, lake or public drinking fountain.  Pulling into the town of Rockport, Ryan being a boat lover, his bike more or less was magnetically pulled toward the harbor as we rode into town. Out of the water, a 65 foot sailboat was sitting onshore and preparing to be put back in the water after two years of intense labor to refurbish. We were approached by the Harbor Master who offered us his house for the night if we wanted to attend the party taking place the following day for the boat. Tempting to take him up on his offer, but instead we carried on and rode our way into the town of Camden, a few miles further north. This short ride between Rockport and Camden was simply stunning. The rode is encased with beautiful trees and extremely fancy homes on either side. I can only imagine these homes all go for a few millions, especially the ones on the water. The landscaped lawns hold every color flower and seemed to be in full bloom. It felt surreal.

Camden was another beautiful town filled with bustling tourists and unique independent stores, of course all inflated due to the time of year. We grabbed bread and cheese from the local shop before enjoying our lunch down by the harbor. Sitting in the only shade we could find, a man joined us with much to say and couldn't help but tell us of the ways to enjoy life and how we are all connected. It was fairly fascinating but a little odd when he wouldn't give us his real name when he introduced himself because he wanted to remain anonymous. We really do meet all types. The library was hosting a huge book sale which allowed us to admire one of the most well constructed and beautiful libraries. It was three levels overlooking the harbor and decorated with small sailboats in cases, a floor telling the history of the town, etc. Oh yes, and it was air conditioned, which of course never hurts on hot days like this.

Ohio to New Hampshire - Pictures

Thousands of these barns were painted in the early 20th century as advertisements in the Midwest

Eastern Ohio is Amish country

Another State

Sometimes I think we are on an eating trip and just biking between ice cream stands

And another State

We followed the Erie Canal tow path for 90 miles

Home sweet home at the end of another day



Searching for my great-grandparents graves in Boonville, NY

Up in the Adirondak mountains on quiet roads

Biking the Adirondaks was great but canoeing would have been better up here

Crossing into Vermont was like stepping back in time... small farms, no chain restaurants and winding roads

After Hurricane Irene, Vermont has been busy re-paving their roads.  Great for us!

Cruising down out of the White Mountains in New Hampshire

Down the road we go



New Hampshire into Maine

A single night in New Hampshire, camped off a small dirt track that dead ended at an electrical box that I assume was for the White Mountain National Forest, we woke early at the base of our biggest pass since Guatemala, Kancamagus pass. 2000 feet of climbing over 12 miles, not too difficult, only hitting a 10% grade for the last few miles. 7:30am departure time, and since we slept at the base of the pass, we started climbing right out the gate. These initial pedals can be tough because our legs burn from the multiple days of riding. It is funny how we both give an "owwwww" right at the same time. Our bodies are so in sync with one another.

45 minutes up and the clouds started coming in on us, sprinkling for a few minutes before the downpour set in. Our luck prevailed once more as the rain just started to come down, we came upon a large shelter at an overlook. We turned our bikes and gladly took shelter to wait out the storm for almost an hour. Much better than being soaked to the bone like the group of guys riding behind us that powered through the rain to the shelter and couldn't fathom how our bikes were so clean and we were so dry after being on the road for over two years.

The rain did not cool down the temperatures and only intensified the humidity, but it did make for a nice chilly descent what with us being pretty wet. Sustaining on carrots with peanut butter and granola, we were starved by the time we cruised 22 miles down to the town of Conway. Changing up our diet, we steered clear of the breakfast cafe and headed for Mexican one. It was nowhere close to the deliciousness in Central America, but it was a nice change for our taste buds.

The beautiful state of Vermont

Vermont is an absolutely beautiful state, rolling land of lush greens. Rivers and lakes cover much of the state, providing a bit of everything for the outdoor junky. The locals are kind and always curious about our adventures, giving waves and honks as they cruise by on the windy roads. Throughout our entire visit in Vermont, we saw a single Subway and no other fast food restaurants. We barely ever saw any chains for that matter. Ahhh...Bliss. The land is used to produce organic produce, feed for animals and free range pastures. This state has a beautiful interaction between the land and the people, and the freshness of the food is apparent and definitely delicious. Back to our old ways, we stop at co-ops that can be found in most towns to stock up on veggies, fresh bread and Vermont cheeses. A personal favorite is feta, arugula, red pepper and fresh baguette. Yum!

The temperatures have been extremely warm and the humidity has been intense, making for sweaty and sticky days. I guess the positive is we have probably rid of all toxins that invaded our bodies in Central America. The rolling hills make for hot rides, but luckily the route follows the river and we are able to jump in and cool down.

We stopped in the town of North Royalton for a late lunch when the dark clouds behind us finally caught up. What do we do? We hopped on warmshowers.com in hopes of finding someone wanting to host two stinky cyclists for a night. Luck prevailed and the first call we made was happy to have us for the night. 1000 feet up the mountains in the downpour, we made it to Barbara and Wallace's house for a warm shower and a bbq'ed chicken dinner. They too are big bicycle tourers, riding down in Cuba and up in the Maritimes in the past. As we both told stories that included Mexico, we soon discovered that we were in the small town of San Agustinillo at the same time and were actually told of one another from another Wisconsin couple. Barbara and Wallace actually walked the town trying to find us. Although we did not meet in Mexico, we were destined to cross paths and were fortunate to hang out in their beautiful home state of Vermont. The small world interactions always bring a smile to my face.

 

 

It is amazing how wonderful a bed feels after only being in a tent for a few weeks. Our sleeping pads are pretty spectacular, not your average run of the mill roll-up pad. They actually inflate 2 1/2 inches making for comfortable beds and we have a single sleeping bag that zips into a sheet. This makes one bed and is much better than having individual sleeping bags for 2+ years on the road. It is always difficult to wake with the sun when we are comfortable and cozy on a mattress with a pillow. We did eventually get moving and enjoyed coffee and breakfast with Barbara and Wallace before we descended into New Hampshire.

Adirondacks into Vermont

Our mornings our fairly consistent, waking early to ride up to 20 miles into a town for a good old fashioned American breakfast. Although the diner was run down, we enjoyed fresh baked cinnamon raisin bread accompanied with eggs and pancakes in the town of Fulton. Full bellies and a few days without internet, we stopped by the library for internet to be in touch with family and friends and to update the blog with the latest written post. Yes, we are always about a week behind but do try and stay fairly up to date. Sitting outside the library on a bench in the shade of an enormous tree, a couple in their 70's stopped to chat. The man had just returned home after riding his way back to Fulton from Alabama. Kudos to him! A solo bicycle trip over the course of four weeks all the way from Alabama. Wow. Very inspirational. We swapped stories (we were told again how Kentucky is notorious for dogs off leashes. He was bitten. If you are reading this and live in Kentucky, maybe there is something that can be done about this???) for a few minutes and they were on their way. 30 minutes later, he returned in his car to stuff money in Ryan's shirt pocket. We tried to give it back but he wouldn't have it. He quickly left and we pulled out $50. What?!?! More generosity from a complete stranger. Unbelievable.
We started making our way into the Adirondacks, climbing mountains and riding along lakes and rivers. The small mountain towns have a block or two of stores, always having a pizza place and an ice cream shop. We have consumed quite the amount of soft serve ice cream as well as pizza. Our diets these days are not what they probably should be, but it's tough to eat in this heat, so getting anything down works for us.

Erie Canal

An unexpected four nights in Buffalo, we spent our days catching up with old friends, watching 4th of July fireworks, Ryan fixed our loud chains that were thankfully only put on incorrectly, and even went to the theater to watch Moonrise Kingdom. A great movie that we would all recommend. We finally left Buffalo, taking the bike path northeast along the Niagra River to avoid the city streets. The days have been hot recently, making for small appetites and drinking warm water. I think I will put cold water on my list of everyday things I miss while on the bike.

Once we hit the town of Lockport, we started following the Erie Canal, riding along the tow path on 90 miles of trail. All of the locks are still in use, connecting the Great Lakes to the Atlantic Ocean and New York City. This canal is the reason why New York grew to be the center of commerce in the United States. The canal provided an easy way for agricultural goods to move from the productive farmlands of the mid west to the populated east as well as carry settlers and equipment to the frontier. More recently in the last 30 years, the locals and the state have worked together to restore the canals and build biking and hiking paths along it. This has been a huge influence on keeping the small towns vibrate and filled with tourists.

Ohio to Buffalo

The month of June was spent in Ohio (and Chicago for a friends wedding) at Ryan's parents house helping get Patty (Ryan's mom) back on her feet as she broke her leg at the beginning of May. It was a nice change of pace to be with friends and family and to enjoy the luxuries; pillow, bed, shower, laundry, refrigerator. All the things we at times miss and think about when we are drinking warm water out of our metal water bottles on hot days. Where we will go from here? Do we look for jobs again? Research ways to extend our transient lifestyle by means of another transportation? Keep riding? And if we continue riding, where to?

After a few weeks back with the parents, we decided to start planning more roads to ride and places to visit on the bicycles. Before long, we had a route in mind and a departure date. June 30 we packed our gear and set off from the Secrest's abode in Silver Lake, OH. Lucky for us, a bike path started a mile from their home. Heading east through small, rural towns, we slowly made our way back to Buffalo where we left the route taken from Minneapolis. A heat wave was making us stop every so often in the shade to cool down and drink as much water as we could hold. At one point in late afternoon, the tiny farm road we were on started to melt beneath the bike tires, making it feel as if we were pedaling through glue. This became a reality as the tire treads filled with tar and tiny bits of asphalt and made a horrible noise rubbing against our fenders. Ryan spent about an hour with a screwdriver cleaning out the treads... After that, a nice shady bike path led us almost through all of Ohio before we dipped into Pennsylvania and on to New York along the shores of Lake Erie.
I'm not sure if it has anything to do with being in our own country, but we seem to easily find a patch of grass or forest floor to stash our tent. We do not trespass, and if we do, we first ask permission, but we always manage to tuck our tent away.

Off the bikes and with family and friends

The wind at our back combined with the long hours of daylight, we arrived two days early in Buffalo. It was great to spend the extra days with our friend Gretchen, soaking up the local Buffalo flavors. To my surprise, I find Buffalo more and more appealing with each visit. Gretchen must love reading this because she has been trying to convince me for years that Buffalo is one of the greats.
Being in Central America for three months and riding a month from Minneapolis to Buffalo, it was really nice to be around someone who has known us for years, making it easy to transition back into everyday life. Traveling has its many benefits but it does take away from the constant everyday topic interactions with friends, something that simply does not occur when we are on the everyday move. In no way am I saying this as a negative, it's just nice to have a change for a bit. It takes a few days/weeks to really get back into life, but it comes easily and I have grown an appreciation for the smallest of aspects and interactions with old acquaintances.

Canada to Buffalo, following Lake Erie

Crossing into Canada via St. Clair, MI on the Blue Water Ferry cost us each $2 including bicycles. Not too shabby. The US border officer thoroughly checked our bags and grilled questions about our travels. Lucky for us, we had nothing to hide. We casually answered his questions before boarding yet another boat with our bicycles. Of all the forms of public transportation, (bus, plane, train, etc) boats are far and away the easiest to utilize for bicyclists. We have been aboard everything from a 700ft passenger ferry in Greece to a motorized canoe in the Guatemalan jungle. Canada makes for our 21st country in 26 months, riding somewhere close to 25,000 miles. Life has been nothing short of spectacular and I wouldn't trade a second of it.....not even the trying times in Central America. All experiences in the past, good and bad, lead to this exact moment. I hope to always be thankful for my past because it has brought me to now.

Crossing this river was a noticeable shift between cultures and landscape. This area of Canada is definitely rural and the locals had more smiles and less skeptical scowls on their faces as we approached on our old school means of transportation. Michigan is a beautiful state with extremely kind people, but riding just north of Detroit was a bit different than the northern part. A little less unkept, a bit more sketchy and not quite as many friendly people.

The kindness we have received continued through Canada. Our first breakfast at a tiny cafe in a town of a few thousand was picked up by a complete stranger who simply paid our bill and left without saying a word. How are people so generous??? And why are we the lucky ones to receive their generosity??? We filled up on pancakes covered in peanut butter, a new find in Canada. The containers that hold jellies also contain peanut butter and honey, a nice switch from our usual stacks slathered in butter and syrup.

Through the Heart of Michigan

Following Lake Michigan with the strong winds in our faces, our day was slow and did not cover as many miles as intended. It happens. The sun was shining and the skies were clear as we rode along Lake Michigan into the town of Harbor Springs, a beautiful town that sits along the water. The streets felt deserted as it is obviously a tourists town and only few shops were open as we pulled up hungry as always. Opting for pizza before finding a place to stash our tent for the night, we were approached by a retiree asking if we would like to join him and his wife for dinner. We gladly obliged and joined them in their booth to swap stories over pizza and soda. He too invited us to their "cottage" for ice cream, shower, laundry and a bed. How do we get so lucky? I use quotations around cottage because it is not your typical small cottage image that comes to mind. The old Victorian style house built by his grandfather sleeps 21 people. So much history sits in this house and it was shown through photos and artifacts displayed in every room.

The people in northern Michigan may take the cake for the nicest people we have come across in all of our travels. We are constantly approached with curiosities about our travels or to simply help us along our way. These moments are always thankful and we embrace each encounter. Here is an instance of extreme generosity, another tick on our giving back board: On the other side of the lake from Harbor Springs sits the quiant town of Petosky, a place we would consider living. A stop at the local cafe Roast and Toast for some delicious coffee and people watching, we made our way to the organic food store for a complete re-stock as we were down to a few granola bars and oatmeal. A man and his daughter approached us inside curious about our travels. He too was a traveler prior to having his daughter and because he could not travel at the moment, he wanted to donate to us to help extend our trip. As nice as that would be, and we have had a few people ask such a question, we decided that if we were riding for a purpose or charity and not pure selfishness, we would maybe take these offers. "Thank you kind stranger, but we simply cannot accept any money." A quizzical look and he pulls out his credit card in the check out line and pays for all of our resupplies. What?!? People are amazing and such a breath of fresh air. We joined him and his daughter at a table for lunch, asking about the area and his previous travels. I love meeting people

A Day on Mackinac Island

First off, my apologies for the lack of updates. Yes, we are bit behind. I hope/plan to be up to date before we start riding here again on Saturday, June 30. We have taken a few weeks off in Ohio visiting Ryan'a parents.

Mackinac Island is a historic island only 8 miles in circumference, consists mostly of historic buildings starting from the early 1800's and most of the island is now a historic landmark. The streets were bustling with people on bicycles or foot, horse drawn buggies and work horses. Not a car or motorized vehicle in sight. The main street in town sits along the water close to the ferries lined with buildings selling taffy, homemade fudge, cheese, coffee shops, restaurants, souvenir shops, one grocery store, clothing stores, etc. Unfortunately there is one Starbucks in town, but we discovered that it is owned by a local, making it not quite as bad I guess. We still chose to support the truly independent barista.

The streets having parking spots designated for bikes, forbidding bicycles on the sidewalks. Barely anyone locks their bike although we did hear of some thefts that are often discovered because well, where can you hide on an island that is 4 square miles? The locals were all friendly and although we were slightly reprimanded for tucking our bikes and gear under an awning on the sidewalk to avoid the 20 minute rainfall, we gladly accepted an offer to start our morning off with a bloody mary. The manager of the restaurant Seabiscuit greeted us outside as we avoided the rain and we gladly took his offer to sit at a bar for a cocktail and conversation. What a way to start our day on Mackinac. John was the manager of the restaurant and could not have been nicer. He was definitely a highlight of our trip, someone we will continue to refer back to. Yes, he truly was that nice and that much fun.

Minneapolis to Buffalo - Pictures

Landing back in the USA late at night, Lisa and I "camp out" in the airport 

The riding was quite an improvement over Central America. 

Lisa enjoying the sunshine

Into the north woods

Late afternoon rest break

Yard art

Riding along the north shore of Lake Michigan.  Our first bike lane in months!

The five mile long Mackinac bridge

Commuting with new friends

Between the French, Native tribes, British and the Americans Mackinac Island has changed ownership 8 times.

Hundreds of miles of forest in the UP of Michigan

The east shore of Lake Michigan

Riding on a old railroad line paved into a bike route

What?

Great Lakes fishing boat unloading at Port Stanley

Bikes and hoverboards to the left

This is why we do this