Omaha to NYC Day 33
(Lenette and Jennifer have me forks!)
Animated map: https://www.relive.com/view/vevYGJrJMJ6
The day at Lock 28B began sunny and dewy. It was such a nice spot that I decided make breakfast at camp instead of heading to the coffee shop. Tom and Jack were still sleeping about 100 ft away so I crept around quietly. I explored the lock at bit between oatmeal and coffee. I put the tent on a railing to dry, but the sun wasn’t strong enough. I packed the wet tent and headed to Lyons.
I found Community Coffee at the corner. I wondered if Hisako and I had driven through it on our way to an anniversary get away to Lake Ontario while we lived in Ithaca. It’s possible. The nice women who run the coffee shop let me dry my tent outside. I sat down and began a blog entry. It wasn’t long before I realized I’d forgotten my tent stakes! The water bottles last night, now this. I really didn’t want to go back. It was five miles. Instead, I called Tom who let me know, Floyd, the lock master had them. Next I texted Charlie. He and Audrey could pick them up and I could wait for them. Unfortunately, they were further behind me than I thought. While I was doing logistics, Lenette and Jennifer who run Community Coffee, hit on the idea of using forks! They gave me eight forks at ersatz stakes. It takes a village to help one forgetful cyclist. In the end Jack grabbed the stakes. He and Tom are going to Buffalo then back to Albany. I’ll connect with them there to collect them. Gratitude.
Solution and dry tent in hand, I pedalled on down the road. At Clyde, I noticed that my tire pressure was low. I added air to both tires and moved out quickly. I’d lost time with stake logistics. Five miles east of Clyde, I noticed that my rear tire, the one that had extra sealant added in Buffalo was suddenly really low, not flat, but really low. I stopped and saw that sealant was spilling out between the tire and the wheel rim. That meant that my theory in Buffalo had been correct, the tire needed to be repeated on the wheel, but you can’t do that on the road. Reluctantly, I decided to put a tube in. Debbie stopped to check in on me. Her brother cycles and she was worried about me. I said I was OK and she told me she’d be back after running her errand just in case. I wrestled with the tire for 30 minutes. I consider it a sign of personal growth that I didn’t panic even when struggled to get the sealant slimed tire off. Finally, I was done! Between the stakes and the tire, I’d lost an hour. I’d be late to Green Lakes Park. I went to put my bags back on. One, two, three, s**t! Where was four. Did it fall in the ditch. No. I am losing my mind. How do you lose a bag strapped to your bike? Then I remembered. Clyde. I took off the bag to pump up my front tire in Clyde. I’d have to go back.
I raced with a tailwind back to Clyde. I wondered if anyone would take a bag. When I got there, I saw a group of cyclists. I was about to ask them about the bag when one said, “the town police officer has your bag. You caused a commotion!" As we were talking, Officer Aaron came out of the deli across the street. He’d seen the bag, found it suspicious and called for the county bomb dog! He verified my identity from my name on some meds and recommended the deli. He told me he would have done some Googling to try to find me if I hadn’t returned. It’s nice to know he would have gone the extra mile.
I had a sub in the coffee shop. It was really good. I was now two hours plus behind schedule. I’d be riding at least an hour in the dark then have to set up camp. A hotel seemed like a much better option. I used Expedia to make a reservation in Camillius, a town just west of Syracuse.
The rest of the ride unfolded without incident. I did the big road section east of Clyde, repassed the tire change site. I looked especially hard at Montezuma because Hisako and I had been there when we lived in Ithaca. I bought a farm fresh apple in Port Byron, and garden stakes in Savannah (sorry Lenetta and Jennifer, they work better). I passed more old canal ruins. I learned that when the current canal was built, they chose a new alignment and abandoned the old. That was why I was biking by dried up canalway. The change hit towns hard and they shrunk. One, Jordan, seems to have found new life as a commuter suburb.
Just west of Jordan I came across a pair of old locks that you could explore. I appreciated being able to get up close. In Jordan, I found a great use for the old, dried up canal, a garden! From Jordan or was bucolic cycling through a park-like area. I was excited to be nearing my hotel in Camillus after a beautiful, but hard day. I'd be sleeping next to a Costco near an Azteca, but can you really experience America without sleeping behind a Costco near an Azteca?
I pulled into the hotel, got off my bike, and strode through the doors. The desk manger had time of goth face piercings including fangs. She was on the phone, but asked, “Are you Mr. McDonald?” I said I was then she said to the person on the other end, “Why did you let him book a room at a full hotel?” Oh boy. Expedia had indeed let me book a room at a full hotel! It was getting late, I had no reservations, there were no other hotels nearby, and I was on my bike. I decided to push on into Syracuse. I called the Expedia number I'd been given by goth clerk. I unloaded on Joel, the Filipino, customer service rep when I learned that Expedia’s version of making it right is waiving the cancellation fee for the room I couldn't occupy anyway. I was a total Karen. Throughout the day I'd kept my smile, but it had become more and more rigid. Now the dam had broken. After I unloaded on Joel, not my best moment, I called the Parkside Hotel in Syracuse. I made sure to talk to a human. No problem the desk manager said. And that was that.
The way into Syracuse had a bunch of nice greenspace that a dedicated stealth camper could have used, but that's not me. I would be happy to have a hot shower without the fear of discovery. I was pedaling hard now, following Google because the Empire State Trail signs seems to disappear in the city. I needed dinner and wasn't sure what I'd do. I spotted a sign, “Eva’s European Sweets, Polish Restaurant”. What the hell. I was already late. Amazing! I waiter with the disposition of a therapist who bikes, took me to a secure place to leave my bike in the somewhat rough neighborhood, seated me right away in the busy restaurant, and handed me the menu. I had something that I can't pronounce, but it was the most delicious potato pancakes with a stewed vegetable sauce and an egg. Wow, just wow! I should have ordered more, but suddenly I wanted to be in a comfy hotel room. The same waiter (I wish I got his name) didn't bat an eyelash when I went to the front to ask to pay and even gave me bike directions. Look them up six stars, https://maps.app.goo.gl/Rfxbm1whWy7weeub8?g_st=ac.
The night ride to hotel was fun on a a full tummy. It wasn't so late, 8:00 ish. The Parkside had been a hotel for 110 years. It's comfy without being fancy. I had to carry my bike up some stairs, but I enjoyed the character over bland efficiency. The desk manager was the same person I talked to. It hit home that it's people not faceless corporations that get you through so on my gratitude list for today goes: Parkside desk manager, Eva’s waiter, Floyd, Tom, Jack, Charlie, Lenette, Jennifer, Aaron, and a gob of other folks who I interacted with more briefly.
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