July 28, 2001--Albany, NY.

Today I took it easy after yesterday's rush for the finish line. The ride began in the cold morning air that registered at just above 50 degrees. We headed out of the small community of Little Falls and began climbing through more hills and valleys. Following a route that bordered the Mohawk River, we cycled our way through the chill of the morning air. The rural countryside included small cornfields, historic towns, and small unique shops that sold one of a kind hand made goods such as custom furniture, crafts, and jewelry. Thick patches of morning fog sat motionless in certain sections of the valley creating passable pillows of moist air that blocked the early sunlight. We passed an old stone bridge with arches that crossed the river. The fog surrounded the ivy covered bridge creating a picture perfect stage for a National Geographic photograph.
Along the river I found plenty to look at. The river widened and there were several old abandoned buildings lining the aqueduct. Large buildings with broken windows and peeling paint sat lifeless on the riverside with deserted and rusty loading docks. The building designs resembled many from the turn of the century with archway windows and decorative brickwork. There are many remnants of the past that sit idle but visible from the road. Aged telephone poles in an out dated style sit unoccupied by the roadside but still at attention even though their usefulness has expired. Many old forts and even some castles exist dating back over one hundred and fifty years to a time when cars didn't speed past them hurriedly everyday.
The route grew more populated as the day wore on. The closer we got to the route end, the more traffic we encountered. Suddenly we found ourselves inside a city of substantial proportions when just 5 miles earlier we were making our way through colorful countryside roads surrounded by meadows of purple wild flowers and trees. The buildings were old and the roads inside the cities were poorly maintained. The older architecture continued within the cities in concentrated areas. Heading out of town more modern and commercial buildings appeared with more familiar names.
While in the more populated areas I noticed a change in the courteous behavior I had experienced from cars in the more rural areas of New York and much of the United States. My friend John had a car turn right in front of him with his left signal on. John hit the car, denting the door and breaking the window. The driver got out of the car and yelled at John. John, built like a line backer, noticed his bike was damaged and came unglued, frightening the driver enough to make him flee the scene. Unfortunately his front break/gear shifter is broken and needs replacement immediately. His components are extremely expensive. (Campinoglo Record! L) John ws unfortunately hurt and many other riders had close calls with drivers that seemed to be rushing everywhere.

July 27, 2001--Little Falls, NY.

Today was a quick day. Even though we did 85 miles, my goal was to get in fast. Since my goal was to push for a good arrival time, I rode with a girl who is an Ironman tri-athlete. Jocelyn and I rode the whole way together, switching off every few miles and stopping for nothing. We passed by some beautiful landscapes. Many of the roads we passed resembled this one that I snapped a picture of while behind Andy and Jocelyn in the early part of the ride.
At the first SAG stop I thought this church was very beautiful and I took a picture of it. We passed over the Mohawk River and several beautiful tree covered mountains. Most of the landscape was covered in a thick carpet of trees.
Today I got to hang out with the #1 Santa Clara Vanguard drum line fan, Tony Pellegrino. Tony sponsors a drum line member each year and has the largest collection of SCV memorabilia in one place. He has been a loyal drum corps fan ever since he marched a small Corps in the 1950's. Tony has multiple sclerosis and is paralyzed from the neck down. I remember playing for him in SCV each year at Rome NY. He would come and watch us all day from his wheelchair in the front row. As a group we would push out so much energy because he was there, that we would exhaust ourselves by the end of the day. I remember vividly Tony sitting in his chair and only having the strength to nod his head when he liked what he heard. My goal was to make him nod his head as many times as possible.
Tony's wife lead me to their basement that was plastered full of SCV memorabilia, pictures, banners, posters, drum heads, plaques, trophies, and even a mannequin dressed in a Santa Clara Vanguard uniform. I looked through thousands of photographs taken by Tony when he was well. He only has 15% of his lung capacity and can only say a few words at a time. I asked him why out of all the Corps in the world he chose the Santa Clara Vanguard to be so connected to. He answered with six simple words, "I love, . . . what it stands for."
We had an excellent dinner and agreed to exchange photographs by mail. Hopefully I will have more to say about the road tomorrow.

July 26, 2001--Syracuse, NY.

This morning started wet. A light rain fell from a dark and foreboding sky that showed no sign of remission. Relieved that today was a low mileage day, I grabbed my rain gear and hit the road. The unanimous goal for the group today was to take it easy. I rode for the first 20 miles alone and quite content in my leisurely pace. Before long my roommate Dave caught up to me and we rode together till he got a flat tire at the Erie Canal. The two of us stopped and I waited for him. That's where I took this lovely self-shot of me next to the canal.
We shoved off again in the cold morning air under the dark leaden sky and rode through several small towns as the morning sun began to peak through the clouds and dry the road under our wheels. We passed several other riders with flat tires. One town we passed through called Waterloo claimed to be the birthplace of the women's rights movement. There was a museum, a national park monument and several stores with a woman's power theme. I took a picture of this signpost that was on the corner next to a skeleton of a building that hosted a series of the first woman's rights meetings.
The second half of the ride proved to be the most spectacular part of New York yet. We followed an old country road that wound through a serene region filled with farms, vacation homes, country clubs and even some open space. Beautiful purple wild flowers waved back and forth in the wind creating the artificial movement of entire pastures. Large trees covered much of the landscape and on top of the hills all that could be seen were miles of green treetops with an occasional radio tower emerging above the tree line. Many of the fields of dry grass that we passed glowed gold in the sunlight and were hard to pass by.
The wind ganged up on us toward the end of the ride making progress laborious. I had some extra energy at the end of the ride so I did a few extra hill climbs along the way. The group thought they had lost me when all of a sudden I flew passed them while chasing a dump truck down a flat country road.
Jeff took it easy today with a steady pace and no chasing. He said that he tried to stay in the same position on the bike all day because moving was too painful.

July 25, 2001--Canandaigua, NY.

This morning we started from Hamburg. The first stop on the trip was the National Bicycle History Museum. The entire group met at the museum to begin the ride. I took a picture of one of the most memorable bikes there. This bike was a proto type that was designed for the army for quick attacks on the enemy. Many obvious problems existed with the idea so it was soon abandoned. Man, I could do a lot of damage with a rifle mounted on my handlebars. There were more than a thousand bikes on display from various times and places. I don't know how people could ride some of the older ones. The designs were almost comical.
Ben, a cyclist that joined our tour in Missouri, has been schooling a few of us on the psychological aspect of bicycle racing. This morning we decided to use some of our newly learned tactics in the pace line that we started with. Many of these tricks involve watching other riders body movements to judge when they are at their weakest aerobic rate. This is the best time for an attack. We rode hard for the first 45 miles, launching a new teammate out in front of the pack and making the others chase them and ware themselves out. I learned a lot today. There is much more to racing than just riding hard.
Much of New York is rural country that has rolling farms and colonial style houses. Route 20 today was beautiful and had much to look at in the way of green hills and rolling pastures. Many of the areas we passed today were uncultivated and awe inspiring in their natural beauty. With blue sky in all directions the riding today was perfect.
The seven of us from the original pace line met at the last SAG stop and decided that we would take it easy for the last thirty miles so that we could catch our breath and not completely kill ourselves. We formed a pace line and headed back onto route 20. I was rider #3 in the pace line when the memo came back in the form of a hand gesture that we were to avoid a certain spot in the road. I passed on the memo and followed the tire in front of me out into the lane of traffic. At that instant I heard a crash and a painful yell come from behind me in the pace line. We all stopped to find Jeff lying on the ground with blood on his arm. Stunned, a few of us rushed back to where he was. He had his teeth clinched together and didn't want to move his body. Knowing Jeff's personality we knew that he is not the kind of person that wants to be coddled and fussed over in times like this so we let him be for the moment pending any necessary help he asked for specifically. He slowly rose to his feet and staggered across the front lawn of the home near where we were. He was in severe pain, so much so that he couldn't walk in a straight line. A lady who lived in the home ran out the front door and asked what she could do to help. "He's bleeding, we need something to clean the wound." said Ben in a calm but concerned voice. She escorted him to the garage where they worked on his arm with soap and some Neosporine. What had happened was Jeff had crossed his wheel with the rider in front of him. When the rider in front of him moved to avoid the pothole it completely swept him off his bike at 25mph. It was Jeff's mistake but it is a sin that all of us partake in at one time or another. When a collision like that happens, it is always the rider behind that ends up loosing.
Jeff painfully made his way back out to the bike after getting cleaned up. He complained that his rear end and ribs hurt terribly. Like the strong willed individual he is, he mounted his bike and we were off again, this time with a much easier pace and a very cautious pace line. It was obvious that he was in severe pain while he was riding. On the hills he grunted with every pedal stroke and extended great labor on the climbs. When we reached the hotel he said that he might have bruised his ribs during the fall. It is also possible that he could have cracked a rib. He is 53 years old, but he is tough as nails and nothing will stop him from finishing this trip. I guarantee it.

July 24, 2001--Hamburg, NY.

The day off was good. Andy's parents from Ohio came and took Andy and I out for a picnic. We ate on the shore of Lake Erie surrounded by trees and chirping birds. They were kind enough to include me in their picnic dinner that included great food and lots of it. Andy's mother does triathlons and placed first in her division that very day in a race!
The ride from Erie to New York started off wet. We never got rained on directly but the air was so wet that there was no chance for the pavement to dry off from the rain of the previous night. Luckily the air was so warm that the dampness from the road served well to cool us down.
We followed Route 5 bordering lake Erie up into New York. The road continued to be damp the whole way. Off to our left through the trees we could catch glimpses of the lake all morning as the thick trees and brush parted for shorebound roads that were usually paved with loose gravel. John, Andy, and I rode together today and spent much of our time teasing each other and doing impressions of different people on the ride.
Among some interesting things we passed were an Ostrich farm that had at least a dozen Ostrich standing in a pen set back from the road. We passed a few ranches with horses penned up in large areas. One horse obviously had an itchy back and was rolling around on the ground back and fourth. Other horses seemed to look on in disgust at a horse with no dignity, rolling around in the dirt. It was really quite a sight for animal lovers like myself.
We had our one and only SAG stop at a fishing dock on the shore of Lake Erie not far from the New York boarder. We stopped and took pictures at the boarder sign as the ritual requires. I then straddled my steed, heading back in the opposite direction because I try to get some speed before I cross the line and yell Art's name. I turned and charged toward the border standing up out of the saddle to get the maximum effort out of each pedal stroke. As I yelled his name I sat back down and looked at the sky to find a small patch of blue sky opening and letting the sun show through for the first time. I knew that he was somewhere listening to me and that his rays of happy sunlight were shining down and protecting me on my way through the country. Could I be reading a little too much into a simple parting of the clouds in the morning as the sun finally burned through the morning fog? Well, it's possible, but I simply find nothing wrong or harmful in it. That was simply my way of recognizing his presence.
When we rode into Hamburg New York the wind abruptly shifted and hit us in the face. We were very close to the hotel when strong gusts of wind made us work for the remaining distance. I'm certainly glad we didn't have do deal with that all day.

July 23, 2001--Erie, PA.--Free Day, No Update---Happy Birthday Sheri!

July 22, 2001--Erie, PA.

Today's ride began with the most beautiful sky. To the east the light of morning could be seen along with a hazy cloud cover. To the northwest the sky loomed a dark gray that was threatening. The road we traveled headed due north so into the darkness we traveled in our shorts and short sleeved shirts. Before long the road began to become soaked with the cool morning rain. We had no rain gear on us and rather than stop and freeze up we decided that moving was the best option. The movement made the cool rain more tolerable and I would go as far as to say that the rain that fell this morning was pleasant. Soon we emerged from the darkness to a sky that was lighter and less daunting. As we rode through the old roads the morning due made the air damp and our cloths, already wet, stuck to our skin as we moved about the countryside on our iron horses. A mother duck and about 15 tiny yellow ducklings crossed the road all huddled closely together in a sweet caress that was more beautiful than anything else I saw all day. Unfortunately it all happened so fast I wasn't able to get my camera out fast enough. Knowing that I wouldn't do it Justice I just watched and enjoyed the moment as the young family made their way to the side of the road where they entered the brush and disappeared.
The first SAG stop was at one of the only remaining covered bridges in Ohio. It remains as a monument away from the river and is only open to foot traffic. The bridge sat as a ghostly remembrance of the vehicles of yesterday. Just as so many abandoned farm houses and barns the bridge would tell some wondrous tails if it could talk about all of the people and things that have happened on and around it through the years. It now sits on a brick foundation with nothing but a lonely picnic table inside at one end. I got plenty of pictures.
Andy and I then traveled about thirty more miles to a town on the border of Ohio that had an old fashioned Root Beer stand. We happened to roll up just as the employees were opening the windows for business. We pulled in and had some root beer floats. Before we were done a whole group of riders had caught up to us and ABB cyclists invaded the root beer stand.
Not long after the root beer stand we hit the Pennsylvania boarder. John, Andy and me took a side trip along the boarder of Lake Erie. The river stank and the bike path was crowded but when we got back on the road where we were more comfortable the ride was more enjoyable. With this side trip, along with several riders, I completed four centuries in a row. I will enjoy my day off tomorrow pending the last stage of the trip.