RideTheLightning

I’ve Got a Gal and Her Name is Sal…

Yup, you know the rest - “15 miles on the Erie Canal”.  Welp, for us, it was more like 400 miles along the Erie Canal.  We made tracks from Ashtabula (location of our last lame blog post sans working photos - now working and complete!) up to Erie, PA to meet up with my Aunt and Uncle.  They drove up from Butler, PA to intercept us and grace us to some fantastic company and a wonderful dinner on the shores of Lake Erie.  Great times and many thanks from us here at RTL mobile headquarters.  That night was spent in a modern day Gypsy Camp, complete with everything from permanently parked RV trailers to a cluster mess of tents on the beach nearly sharing stakes with one another.  We met some interesting folks that night, to say the least.  

Camp spot in Erie, PA. The modern day gypsy village.

We headed north east out of Erie, still following closely the shores of the great lake.  We made it to Angola-On-The-Beach, a bit shy of our goal of Buffalo, NY.  We hummed and hawed for a bit, riding some 15 miles up and down the shores trying to find a so called “campground” that allows tents, and failed to do so.  Luckily for us, a riggotta was in town and the town had OK’ed for them to tent in the park.  We cooked dinner elsewhere, waiting for night to fall, and, under the cover of darkness, slinked into the park and set up our tents.  It was a ragging party with music blaring and first-time drunkards stumbling around, but we fell fast asleep, as per the norm.  

Buffalo proved to be no different than any other urban metropolis that we’ve been challenged to navigate, complete with a flat tire, dead end roads, wrong turns, and less than 30 miles under our belt by 2pm.  But we made it thru there no worse for the wear and pinned it up north to Lockport, NY, from which the annual Erie Canal Bicycle Tour was leaving that same day.  Later that afternoon in downtown Lockport, we met up with the lagging members of the tour, managed to scrounge a map of the Canal Path out of one generous soul, and were back on our steeds in high spirits.  We began cranking down the crushed stone path, kicking up a wake of dust and dirt, covering ourselves and our bicycles in a dusty layer.  We began passing the tourers, some 500 of them, all setting out for 8 days along the canal trail (we only gave ourselves 4 days - nice planning).  We decided that we ought to see the accommodations - to get a taste of what camping with 500 people looks like -  so we rode into the tour camp some 20 miles down the canal trail.  It was tent city madness.  There was even a company that, for a fee, would set up your tent, inflate you air mattress, and pack it all up in the morning.  Now thats livin’.  Sometime later that evening, as BJ was stopped taking a pee along the trail, he spotted a rope swing, dangling some 30 feet above an algae covered pond.  With a simple hand gesture, a bit of nervous chitter chatter, it was on.  BJ first.  Sent it.  Made it.  Still alive.  Next Aidan.  Then I.  It was glorious.

Practice swing. More fun then actually dropping into the water below

The Erie Canal Path proved to be an absolute schedule saver and all around gem for us.  We made some serious mileage along the mostly flat trail, cutting nearly due East from Lockport to Albany in 4 days.  We met some characters, hung out with some modern day River Pirates (the classy folks keeping the locks in operation), and had some beautiful weather.  It was when we left the trail in Albany, making ready to cross the border into Mass (our final state), that the weather and trouble - or dare say adventure - hit…..