As the trek north continues, I’m attempting to adapt to temperature changes from 86 to 26 in a matter of 10 days. Yes, my first week in Whitehall, NY has been quite a rude awakening. Each day begins with my hand upon the window, then shaking my head. This small town of nearly 2,500 residents initially attracted me for its affordability, as well as access to the Adirondacks, the Empire State Trail, and Western Vermont. Whitehall is in a valley at the southern end of Lake Champlain and has been declared the “Birthplace of the US Navy” based on Revolutionary War activity (though Philly may argue this point). So, mountains, a cycling trail, history, and spitting distance to my favorite New England state. All of that said, I plead ignorance. Beyond my definition of “spring weather”, the hiking trails were far too icy and/or muddy to hike, and the Empire State Trail in this area is a death wish, as it’s busy roadway not canalway. This meant daily driving to destinations that I did enjoy. Bottom line – Whitehall is a pass-through town for me.
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With trepidation, I began my journey from South Florida to Vermont plotting intentional drive times of less than five hours. Sanford, Florida is first on the itinerary, for just two nights, to hop the overnight auto train and leave the driving to Amtrak for 810 miles. My last visit to Sanford was in 2006 for the same purpose, but oh-what-a-surprise to see this town's transformation, and to enjoy a stay with a host that is chatty, cooks great fish and loves to read. Hon, you just never know. Which brings me to my next stop, Winchester, Virginia -- a location chosen for its proximity to the station and an affordable bed. After a 4.5 hour train delay and a nearly 2-hour wait for my Element, it was grand to simply go west in less than two hours and be in place for four days. Yet, the best was still to come and Winchester requires more of my time in the future. Onward, and in just 10 miles I cross into Maryland, then 20 more and it's West Virginia, before I hit the never-ending state of Pennsylvania to regroup in Avery for a few days. It's 29 miles to the New York border, and while I am certainly in good company; if this is spring, I'll never winter here. April 2 is a cold, blustery day but I'm so close to the last big push that I can taste it. I'm now safely in Whitehall, New York, just east of the Adirondacks. As I write, I'm wearing a turtleneck and Woolie Boolie sox, while remaining optimistic that flowers will bloom during this two-week stay before I cross into Vermont. For highlights along the "my engine is dying!" journey, see below. The driving is nerve-racking, but the people and places continue to surprise. Perhaps you’ve read that the Earth's inner core recently reversed its rotation, which I guess occurs every 6 years. News to me, but I do believe this one must be different as it’s controlling my life pattern, too. At year’s end 2022, I was quite pleased with my projection of what the first half of 2023 looked like. While I was still pondering my auto’s idle issue, I would be escaping Florida before March’s tourist stampede, and slowly moving my way through the Carolinas toward spring in Vermont. A few reservations were in place, including a lovely loft stay for two months in Middlebury to poke around the western region of the state. From here, perhaps Grand Manan Island and Newfoundland this summer. I was ready to roll again! Fast-forward two weeks and the Vermont cancellation came in with just 17 minutes for me to cancel other reservations without a loss. Now that I was back to the drawing board, I decided to call the mechanic I adore and was told “the idle should have relearned by now”. Yes, the planet is reversing and so did I, thankfully. When you live in your car, it’s quite important that it learns good behavior. So, in disbelief, I’ve been in South Florida for 3 weeks, but oh-so-happy to have a place to stay and a mechanic I trust. I’ve now redesigned my travel pattern with reservations from Virginia to Vermont as I’ll be hopping on the auto train soon. This cuts my driving miles in half as the new Element diagnosis is “you’ll need a new engine within 6 months”. My inner core is definitely turning. With reservations in place in-state, the Carolinas, and ultimately Vermont, I hit the road early February to push my way out of Florida before the March mania begins. Florida has felt quite busy these past few years, but it's over the top now as the year-round and seasonal population has simply exploded. Too many people and far, far too many cars, so hence my decision to push out before March, the busiest winter month of all. I'm thinking this is the last hurrah, so my first stop is Sebastian, a place I've felt at home these past few years. It's also just a 2.5 hour drive to test out the Element, which remains questionable. I've spots on both the inlet and the mainland, and I'm really looking forward to a few weeks of the outdoor life. There was an interesting mix of people camping from throughout the US and Canada -- newbies and veterans, young and old, outdoorsy types and those seeking a cheap bed. The inlet is pretty well developed now and the traffic on A1A is an all day event. In town, the New Yorkers with a smattering of Californians are changing the culture here, and the locals are shaking their heads. I'm so pleased that I found this spot oh-so-many years ago, and so thankful for Paul Kroegel, Teddy Roosevelt, Roy Couch, and Archie Carr for saving greenspace for the wildlife and me!
When I rolled into South Florida to help a friend, I could not have imagined the magnitude of what I was stepping into. Let me be clear, 2023 is a kick-in-the-ass odd numbered year already.
My friend’s house needed serious attention, and with injuries that just won’t quit, he was committed to performing at three events, as well as renovating an empty condo he needs to sell. So, for the past two months, I’ve been a sander, a painter, a cleaner, an installer, a hauler, a secretary, a motivator, an organizer, a cook, a DJ roadie, and quite a few times, a nag. That’s life? Perhaps, but not all of it. While cycling is difficult in this concrete jungle, I did sustain my minimum weekly miles. Pedal -- but never let your guard down. I also did a bit of writing and editing as two clients reconnected; so incoming moolah is starting up again. Good timing as my dear Element, also known as home, has taken a bad turn. A few sensor fixes and too many dollars later, I’m now sitting on the edge of my seat as a used part arrives tomorrow that must be the solution. Just what makes that little old ant Think (s)he'll move that rubber tree plant Anyone knows an ant, can't Move a rubber tree plant But (s)he's got high hopes, (s)he's got high hopes (S)he's got high apple pie, in the sky hopes* To say that I’m exhausted is an understatement, but okay February, bring it on slowly. My itinerary has me back in my tent this weekend and out of the Sunshine State by month’s end. I’m so ready to be back in my element. *Van Heusen, Jimmy and Cahn, Sammy, "High Hopes" (1959). Vocal Popular Sheet Music Collection. Score 2890. |
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May 2024
AuthorCyclist, writer, teacher, avid reader, bike/ped advocate, nomad, pie lover Categories |