2/23/12
Living at the Ithaca Zen Center / Body Mind Restoration Retreat Center brings with it the (usually positive) bonus of living with 4 peacocks. 1 female, 2 young males, and one older male. The feathery details of the peacocks' social world are for another time, but today I find myself playing piano for a very curious peahen. My keyboard is set up right in a window overlooking the pond and far hills, and in the foreground is some of the peacock stomping grounds. As a young male tried his darndest to impress Ms. Peahen with his half-sized plumage, the object of his affection was curiously tilting her head at me as I fiddled around on the keys. It's nice to have an audience to play off of, and especially one that is hearing totally different frequencies than you can ever dream of. Here's a clip of some peacock music:
peacock music
After Peahen left, the young male came back to see what was so interesting about the sounds coming through the window, and he showed me just how cool his feathers are when he shakes them really fast.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Monday, February 20, 2012
The Pedaling Permaculture Pianist Continues
Yay!!! It's been a good 15 months since my first, most wonderful, and only bike tour ended. It seemed unnecessary to blog again, unless I embarked on another such crusade of joy; but I realized that I can still claim all of the titles a bestowed upon myself upon beginning this blog! That's 2 "upons," yes.
I am still pedaling, though much less frequently .... I live 8 miles from town, I have no car, and it's winter - but a very bike-able winter. So I at least bike to the bus stop and around town. Still Pedaling, check.
I am still practicing and promoting permaculture, and not just in the abstract inner permaculture/economic permaculture/mental permaculture ways. I'm managing the vegetable gardens for a real legit healing retreat center. Not as much perennial food growing and wildharvesting as I'd like, but there's enough scattered throughout my days to keep me satisfied. Still Permaculture, check.
And I am still being a pianist. I've gotten to play a good amount of music since my return to a more sedentary lifestyle - check out Polly and Travis music to see what we've been up to, and www.travisknapp.com for my own music site. Still Pianist, check.
And as far as being "Home-Free" .... for the residential aspect of the phrase, I've been living on the same property for nearly a year, though never in one structure for more than a couple months .... And regarding the "woohoo, I'm home-free!" aspect of the phrase, well ... that will take some further consideration. "Bicycle" has been discussed already.
So, in summary, I still lay claim to my catch-phrase and title, "Pedaling Permaculture Pianist," and my more-or-less "Home-Free Bicycle Blog"
This all was brought about by one silly little thing I wanted to say about spinach. It made me laugh, and I hold no expectations that it will make anyone else laugh, but at least I hope some folks will smile. Are you ready?
Here is the beginning of a list of things that I have never said:
1.) "Boy, I'm amazed at what a large amount of spinach I have, now that I see it cooked!"
(list to be continued, or not)
It's an oddly warm winter, so we're taking a chance to plant some spinach at an offensively early date (tomorrow). Why-the-heck not? I'll let you know in a few weeks if we get any greens.
For now, stay warm, keep smiling (even if you don't feel like smiling, just try it :-D).
-t
I am still pedaling, though much less frequently .... I live 8 miles from town, I have no car, and it's winter - but a very bike-able winter. So I at least bike to the bus stop and around town. Still Pedaling, check.
I am still practicing and promoting permaculture, and not just in the abstract inner permaculture/economic permaculture/mental permaculture ways. I'm managing the vegetable gardens for a real legit healing retreat center. Not as much perennial food growing and wildharvesting as I'd like, but there's enough scattered throughout my days to keep me satisfied. Still Permaculture, check.
And I am still being a pianist. I've gotten to play a good amount of music since my return to a more sedentary lifestyle - check out Polly and Travis music to see what we've been up to, and www.travisknapp.com for my own music site. Still Pianist, check.
And as far as being "Home-Free" .... for the residential aspect of the phrase, I've been living on the same property for nearly a year, though never in one structure for more than a couple months .... And regarding the "woohoo, I'm home-free!" aspect of the phrase, well ... that will take some further consideration. "Bicycle" has been discussed already.
So, in summary, I still lay claim to my catch-phrase and title, "Pedaling Permaculture Pianist," and my more-or-less "Home-Free Bicycle Blog"
This all was brought about by one silly little thing I wanted to say about spinach. It made me laugh, and I hold no expectations that it will make anyone else laugh, but at least I hope some folks will smile. Are you ready?
Here is the beginning of a list of things that I have never said:
1.) "Boy, I'm amazed at what a large amount of spinach I have, now that I see it cooked!"
(list to be continued, or not)
It's an oddly warm winter, so we're taking a chance to plant some spinach at an offensively early date (tomorrow). Why-the-heck not? I'll let you know in a few weeks if we get any greens.
For now, stay warm, keep smiling (even if you don't feel like smiling, just try it :-D).
-t
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Grocery Bag
In some recent reflection, I remembered a quick story that I wanted to share.
At a grocery store in Provincetown, Cape Cod, I was exiting with my food in hand. The man leaving ahead of me had taken all of his groceries with him, but had left one bag with 2 bottles of soda in the shopping cart. I picked up the bag, and walked steadily after him, and simply gave him the sodas once he had reached his car. He was grateful, and I went on my way. As I settled myself into the car that I was borrowing at the time, the man knocked on my window, and I rolled it down. He gave his best effort at expressing just how Nice it was that I had brought him his lost bag, and that I had absolutely made his day. He was relieved to know that such kindness "still" exists in the world. I accepted his thanks, and drove away smiling, myself (and considering the ubiquitous kindness that had made up my trip thusfar).
It had seemed such a simple thing to do, one that practically acted itself out. I would have had to have tried to not pick up the bag and walk with it in the direction i was walking anyway. The moral of the story, if it needs explaining, is that the universe is always conspiring to create goodness. Sometimes the most loving course of action is laid out on a platter, sometimes it requires a little more stillness to discover. There is little difference between the "giving" and "receiving" ends of kindness, and it's a blessing to be caught in the middle!
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Home to Ithaca, Greetings and Thanks!
Well, here I am, again at the very site that I departed on August 23rd. It was about 100 yds down the hill from the co-op house on Elm Street that I realized, "wait, this is where the trip started. this must be the end of my trip!!" I pulled in, soaking wet, after dark, to be greeted by the smell of dinner being prepared, and more familiar faces than I'd seen in months. Turned into quite the welcome celebration, and it really felt like coming home.
I'll summarize the end of the trip, but my main hope for this entry is to give some gracious energy to every living being and situation that contributed to the goodness of my bicycle journey!
So, after almost a week in Clinton and some good visiting, I packed my bags again and hit the road. Actually I packed the bags a little too much. It would seem that the only thing I added was a full backpack to my packs, but I'm guessing I had about 60 lbs (up from ~35). Poor decision #1. Poor decision #2 was to choose Monday to travel (there were things to be done on sunny Sunday, but still ...) - when I knew there would be rain. Sure enough, I hadn't even gotten out of Clinton before it began to sprinkle ... got the plastic bags out as the sun came up, and I realized I had set myself up for the most challenging day of travel yet - 85-90 miles with twice the normal weight, finger lakes hills, and chilly rain. It took until about 30 miles before I finally got into a groove where I could feel good about what was going on.
Knowing Ithaca was at the end of the ride made the whole day quite possible. Stopped at both Greenstar food co-ops in town, already seeing friends and familiar faces! I was rather spent when I finally made the top of the hill, and ready to rest for a good long time.
My goal had been to get to Ithaca for Thanksgiving at my aunt Barb's house in Erin. Turned out I helped to move a friend's piano to her house on the way! Barb's is the quaintest home imaginable, with an A-frame cabin, wood stove, loft bedrooms, stone counters, delicious food and herb smells, chicken and turkey raising, woods, Tarzan the cat, Chauncey the dog, and one Jasz (storyteller and hunter/trapper extraordinaire). The addition of a warm-sounding piano to the mix was just perfect. Thanksgiving was as swell as ever, 34 people this year, darned good food, but of course all too short a time.
Now I'm staying in the guest room of the Elm St Co-op, where I had lived for almost 2 years. 2 nights here and 2 fantastic feasts/celebrations! I'm of course confronted with actually deciding what happens with my life from here .... To put it briefly, I have some traveling left in me, but my Achilles(es ... plural) need(s) some serious resting, and there are many people to catch up with here, exciting interests to explore, and it's just a nice place to hibernate/dream for the winter. Looking into getting to the Pacific Northwest, and also some time in "the south." Maybe with bike, maybe on foot, with some help from trains. I'll put any traveling plans in the blog here ... even if it won't be bicycling.
But more importantly, onto the giving of thanks!! This is in the form of a roughly chronological/geographical list, with some time/place-unspecific gratitude thrown in. I imagine a map/timeline of my full route would make this easier to follow, so that may be in a forthcoming entry. Here goes:
- first and foremost, I need to thank every single person who wished me safety. that means you who are reading this, because I felt total support and blessings from all around. most everyone I talked to, briefly or longer, looked me in the eye and said "Be Safe," or "Safe Travels." I just had way too much positive support to even imagine that there could have been an accident. In fact, the worst/only fall I had was on Day 2 in a parking lot, when, with my first push of the pedal, I got jammed up in the front fender and fell exactly sideways onto the gravel. Must've looked pretty funny! So thank you for wishings of safety.
- along similar lines, thank you to every single driver who passed me and did not hit me. Most of you were indeed quite gentle and amazingly considerate of my presence on the road! I send thanks also to those of you who passed more closely and quickly, because you knew your abilities and kept us all safe in the end.
- thank you to everyone who empowered me to get on the bike and dive into the wild paved yonder - John R and Aaron M for initial encouragement; Glenn S for the bike/gear and loads of advice; fellow down at Cayuga Cycles for his advice; Dan T for the helmet, riding bibs, and sleeping pad, plus coffee and advice; Brad and Monica for encouragement, stories, advice, tire irons, and a pair of gloves (which I lost more promptly than I can even admit); Ellen for keeping Dancing Turtle alive; members of "That House," who tended the home fire, and in fact tended its brilliant growth; Nathan and Julie for the filter and support; Mom and Dad for encouragement, minimal worrying, and keeping me honest about checking in; Barb for her protection; Everybody who came to my sendoff celebration (PM and AM) - talk about making a guy feel loved!
- Into the first days of the trip, thank you to Kelly and Frank for housing and feeding me in Weedsport after Day 1!; to George and Diane for the bed, food, entertainment, maps, and full moon in Caz; Mom and Dad again, for helping me charge up and heal for a few days; Dad for the pump, and the gloves (this pair lasted a little longer); John C for pedaling/fit assistance
- Thanks to the railroad volunteer who guided me to a camp site just before the Adirondacks; to the friendly folks at the Inlet bike shop for air, conversation, advice, and well-wishings; Henry for some swift riding companionship, inspiration, plus a nice tenting setup; Blue Mtn Museum for letting me play the piano in the lobby; forked lake campsite attendant for suggestion on where to find a lean-to
- Thanks to all the bears and hungry creatures who left my food to me, all trip long. To whatever powers heard and honored my requests for safety and peace every single night.
- Thank you to Phil and Heidi for stopping to visit at the Wild Center (and for the map, though I didn't end up using it!); to the Wild Center for teaching such important ecology, etc, in such a relevant and fun way;
- Many thanks to everybody who offered directions and suggestions along the way! I didn't necessarily use all of them, but I was set more on track with options, and uplifted by everyone's willingness to help.
At this point, I need to get to sleep .... Part 2 of this Thanksgiving will be soon to come.
In another upcoming entry, I'll give some stats for the trip and assess whether some goals were met (I had goals, believe it or not!!)
I'll summarize the end of the trip, but my main hope for this entry is to give some gracious energy to every living being and situation that contributed to the goodness of my bicycle journey!
So, after almost a week in Clinton and some good visiting, I packed my bags again and hit the road. Actually I packed the bags a little too much. It would seem that the only thing I added was a full backpack to my packs, but I'm guessing I had about 60 lbs (up from ~35). Poor decision #1. Poor decision #2 was to choose Monday to travel (there were things to be done on sunny Sunday, but still ...) - when I knew there would be rain. Sure enough, I hadn't even gotten out of Clinton before it began to sprinkle ... got the plastic bags out as the sun came up, and I realized I had set myself up for the most challenging day of travel yet - 85-90 miles with twice the normal weight, finger lakes hills, and chilly rain. It took until about 30 miles before I finally got into a groove where I could feel good about what was going on.
Knowing Ithaca was at the end of the ride made the whole day quite possible. Stopped at both Greenstar food co-ops in town, already seeing friends and familiar faces! I was rather spent when I finally made the top of the hill, and ready to rest for a good long time.
My goal had been to get to Ithaca for Thanksgiving at my aunt Barb's house in Erin. Turned out I helped to move a friend's piano to her house on the way! Barb's is the quaintest home imaginable, with an A-frame cabin, wood stove, loft bedrooms, stone counters, delicious food and herb smells, chicken and turkey raising, woods, Tarzan the cat, Chauncey the dog, and one Jasz (storyteller and hunter/trapper extraordinaire). The addition of a warm-sounding piano to the mix was just perfect. Thanksgiving was as swell as ever, 34 people this year, darned good food, but of course all too short a time.
Now I'm staying in the guest room of the Elm St Co-op, where I had lived for almost 2 years. 2 nights here and 2 fantastic feasts/celebrations! I'm of course confronted with actually deciding what happens with my life from here .... To put it briefly, I have some traveling left in me, but my Achilles(es ... plural) need(s) some serious resting, and there are many people to catch up with here, exciting interests to explore, and it's just a nice place to hibernate/dream for the winter. Looking into getting to the Pacific Northwest, and also some time in "the south." Maybe with bike, maybe on foot, with some help from trains. I'll put any traveling plans in the blog here ... even if it won't be bicycling.
But more importantly, onto the giving of thanks!! This is in the form of a roughly chronological/geographical list, with some time/place-unspecific gratitude thrown in. I imagine a map/timeline of my full route would make this easier to follow, so that may be in a forthcoming entry. Here goes:
- first and foremost, I need to thank every single person who wished me safety. that means you who are reading this, because I felt total support and blessings from all around. most everyone I talked to, briefly or longer, looked me in the eye and said "Be Safe," or "Safe Travels." I just had way too much positive support to even imagine that there could have been an accident. In fact, the worst/only fall I had was on Day 2 in a parking lot, when, with my first push of the pedal, I got jammed up in the front fender and fell exactly sideways onto the gravel. Must've looked pretty funny! So thank you for wishings of safety.
- along similar lines, thank you to every single driver who passed me and did not hit me. Most of you were indeed quite gentle and amazingly considerate of my presence on the road! I send thanks also to those of you who passed more closely and quickly, because you knew your abilities and kept us all safe in the end.
- thank you to everyone who empowered me to get on the bike and dive into the wild paved yonder - John R and Aaron M for initial encouragement; Glenn S for the bike/gear and loads of advice; fellow down at Cayuga Cycles for his advice; Dan T for the helmet, riding bibs, and sleeping pad, plus coffee and advice; Brad and Monica for encouragement, stories, advice, tire irons, and a pair of gloves (which I lost more promptly than I can even admit); Ellen for keeping Dancing Turtle alive; members of "That House," who tended the home fire, and in fact tended its brilliant growth; Nathan and Julie for the filter and support; Mom and Dad for encouragement, minimal worrying, and keeping me honest about checking in; Barb for her protection; Everybody who came to my sendoff celebration (PM and AM) - talk about making a guy feel loved!
- Into the first days of the trip, thank you to Kelly and Frank for housing and feeding me in Weedsport after Day 1!; to George and Diane for the bed, food, entertainment, maps, and full moon in Caz; Mom and Dad again, for helping me charge up and heal for a few days; Dad for the pump, and the gloves (this pair lasted a little longer); John C for pedaling/fit assistance
- Thanks to the railroad volunteer who guided me to a camp site just before the Adirondacks; to the friendly folks at the Inlet bike shop for air, conversation, advice, and well-wishings; Henry for some swift riding companionship, inspiration, plus a nice tenting setup; Blue Mtn Museum for letting me play the piano in the lobby; forked lake campsite attendant for suggestion on where to find a lean-to
- Thanks to all the bears and hungry creatures who left my food to me, all trip long. To whatever powers heard and honored my requests for safety and peace every single night.
- Thank you to Phil and Heidi for stopping to visit at the Wild Center (and for the map, though I didn't end up using it!); to the Wild Center for teaching such important ecology, etc, in such a relevant and fun way;
- Many thanks to everybody who offered directions and suggestions along the way! I didn't necessarily use all of them, but I was set more on track with options, and uplifted by everyone's willingness to help.
At this point, I need to get to sleep .... Part 2 of this Thanksgiving will be soon to come.
In another upcoming entry, I'll give some stats for the trip and assess whether some goals were met (I had goals, believe it or not!!)
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Home to Clinton~! Sirius, Kripalu, Schenectady, and the Erie Canal
90+ miles today, the longest yet! I'm resting at my parents' house, and it sure feels like home. If I hadn't started my journey in Ithaca, I would feel like The Trip was over - but it isn't! I'll be here for a week or so, then on to try the 1-day route to Ithaca.
To back up to Amherst, I ended up staying an extra day with Ryan and co. to help finish the sheet mulching, and also participate in a work day/meditation/lunch at Sirius Community. Quite worthwhile, all of it. Moving firewood around the property and clearing out light for the oldest being on the land - a regal and spreading mountain laurel. There was a nice meditation of personal and planetary healing (this is a main focus of the community), then lunch with guests and community members. At UMass, we got nearly finished with the garden, and celebrated in the dining hall overlooking the magnificent work.
Sunday morning I got going early, the first part of the ride a beautiful and swift descent from Shutesbury to Amherst on country roads. The sun came out to present the most gorgeous of days .... At the top of a hill 10 or 20 miles from Amherst, a fellow in a pickup stopped to tell me he had seen me pass his office, and was "very impressed!" I'm not sure what exactly he was impressed with, but it was awfully nice of him to stop ... it made me think about the fact that maybe I have impressed or inspired far more people than I realize. I hope this is the case!!
The Berkshires gave me the longest climbs I'd had since Vermont, but it seemed plenty doable. I made it to Pittsfield, MA (~45 miles?) in good time, had a relaxing lunch, and wandered down to Lenox, where I had yet another great contact from my aunt Julie. I got to Charlene and Felix's and spent a little time in the woods behind their house to roll in the dry leaves before they got home. Swell folks and swell hosts! We chatted and went to Kripalu (10 min drive!) for an extremely healthy dinner. Quite the place, packed to the brim with yoga teachers and classes. A bit glossy/commercial/pricey overall, but I think the teachings are sound otherwise. I slept extremely well and got on the road early again, pre-dawn.
It was another climb to get through the rest of the Berkshires, though quite pretty. Trees are mostly bare. Then the hill turned downward, and as I was nearly flying, I gazed out on the most precious looking country-side hill. It turned out I was looking at New York State! "The Empire State," as I like to pretend it isn't called. With the smells, flora, and taste of home so close, I pushed ahead on the bike to Albany. I found a great trail up the Hudson, and started to dream that I would make it to Clinton that day - 150 miles, a few hours in the dark. Well, the trail was going north, and I should have gone northwest .... Discovering my folly and divergence from the prescribed route, I stopped in for directions (got more than I asked for, in about a half hour of explanations and computer musings from office workers looking for an excuse to not work!). What I took from it got me on the right course, but I panicked and tried to get to 5W via rte 7W. 7W was a highway, felt like the interstate, in fact. woops. for about 10 miles, I got my legs into a perfect groove, and my concentration was intense. every car or truck that passed felt too close, but I had to press on, so I surrounded myself in a protective bubble of white light, kept breathing, and made it off the interstate finally. I stopped for a sandwich, and found myself shaking with adrenaline. I knew something was up, because even all the city and car smells were pleasant to inhale. i felt good, but had to chill out or risk burn out.
A few more miles (on mostly sidewalk, which was a pleasant relief, this time) got me to Schenectady where I again lost track of the route and was misled by sporadic Bike Trail signs. I stopped into a gas station to look at a map (haven't carried a map since Maine ... it is what it is), and when it started raining and my muscles started tightening up, I decided to stop for the day, well short of my impossible goal. My sister's fiance's mom Helga lives right near Union, so I called her, and she very graciously put me up, on zero notice. Thanks Helga! Really nice visiting, and I felt unfortunately rude to have to speed off again early in the morning. But speed off I did, by 7 or so.
It was humid, cloudy, and unseasonably warm ... i found my way back to the trail, and got moving pretty well. The Mohawk River and Erie Canal have large sections of bike path along them. About 1/3rd of the length to Utica is paved, 1/3rd is unpaved, and 1/3rd is inaccessible. More or less a flat day, with my only stops being to read the informational signs (canal history, some herb profiles, maps, etc), and check out General Herkimer's house. The whole day was grey and heavy, which is how Utica/Syracuse/Ithaca seem to be so often after November. But I had to remind myself it had been as beautifully clear and sunny here the week before as it was in MA. Anyway, the canal is pretty cool, what with all the locks and water birds and outcroppings of cut-away hills. A fascinating look at history, geology, and canal culture. I've never been more glad to see Utica (and I understand its layout better than ever, just from one ride through).
Within 6 or 7 miles of Kellogg Street, it began to sprinkle, then rain. I reluctantly put the covers on my bags, and hunkered down for the home stretch. Most of the rest of the trip was uphill, making for a very humbling journey and arrival. My dad passed me and honked, about 2 miles from home. My glasses allowed limited vision, and I had to get into focused riding mode, rather than taking in the familiar scenes. And then ... I made it home ... woo! Things seem really well here, like there's a vibrant health about the place, people, and animals. Good news.
My Achilles seemed at an all-time low point after Sunday's ride. Then Monday I woke up and it felt better than ever! Lots of theories, but as long as I kept tabs on it all day Mon and Tue while riding, it was quite strong. Thank goodness, I feel hopeful for a real recovery.
I'm interested to see what the Canal culture develops into in the next decade or two ... I couldn't help but think about how great a completed bike/horse/pedestrian path would be, to link up the state further. And though the water doesn't always look so inviting, boat transportation/recreation seems pleasant. It was extremely coincidental that the headline of the Utica paper today was about canal traffic being up from last year! We'll see.
A Thanksgiving entry is in line in the next couple days!
To back up to Amherst, I ended up staying an extra day with Ryan and co. to help finish the sheet mulching, and also participate in a work day/meditation/lunch at Sirius Community. Quite worthwhile, all of it. Moving firewood around the property and clearing out light for the oldest being on the land - a regal and spreading mountain laurel. There was a nice meditation of personal and planetary healing (this is a main focus of the community), then lunch with guests and community members. At UMass, we got nearly finished with the garden, and celebrated in the dining hall overlooking the magnificent work.
Sunday morning I got going early, the first part of the ride a beautiful and swift descent from Shutesbury to Amherst on country roads. The sun came out to present the most gorgeous of days .... At the top of a hill 10 or 20 miles from Amherst, a fellow in a pickup stopped to tell me he had seen me pass his office, and was "very impressed!" I'm not sure what exactly he was impressed with, but it was awfully nice of him to stop ... it made me think about the fact that maybe I have impressed or inspired far more people than I realize. I hope this is the case!!
The Berkshires gave me the longest climbs I'd had since Vermont, but it seemed plenty doable. I made it to Pittsfield, MA (~45 miles?) in good time, had a relaxing lunch, and wandered down to Lenox, where I had yet another great contact from my aunt Julie. I got to Charlene and Felix's and spent a little time in the woods behind their house to roll in the dry leaves before they got home. Swell folks and swell hosts! We chatted and went to Kripalu (10 min drive!) for an extremely healthy dinner. Quite the place, packed to the brim with yoga teachers and classes. A bit glossy/commercial/pricey overall, but I think the teachings are sound otherwise. I slept extremely well and got on the road early again, pre-dawn.
It was another climb to get through the rest of the Berkshires, though quite pretty. Trees are mostly bare. Then the hill turned downward, and as I was nearly flying, I gazed out on the most precious looking country-side hill. It turned out I was looking at New York State! "The Empire State," as I like to pretend it isn't called. With the smells, flora, and taste of home so close, I pushed ahead on the bike to Albany. I found a great trail up the Hudson, and started to dream that I would make it to Clinton that day - 150 miles, a few hours in the dark. Well, the trail was going north, and I should have gone northwest .... Discovering my folly and divergence from the prescribed route, I stopped in for directions (got more than I asked for, in about a half hour of explanations and computer musings from office workers looking for an excuse to not work!). What I took from it got me on the right course, but I panicked and tried to get to 5W via rte 7W. 7W was a highway, felt like the interstate, in fact. woops. for about 10 miles, I got my legs into a perfect groove, and my concentration was intense. every car or truck that passed felt too close, but I had to press on, so I surrounded myself in a protective bubble of white light, kept breathing, and made it off the interstate finally. I stopped for a sandwich, and found myself shaking with adrenaline. I knew something was up, because even all the city and car smells were pleasant to inhale. i felt good, but had to chill out or risk burn out.
A few more miles (on mostly sidewalk, which was a pleasant relief, this time) got me to Schenectady where I again lost track of the route and was misled by sporadic Bike Trail signs. I stopped into a gas station to look at a map (haven't carried a map since Maine ... it is what it is), and when it started raining and my muscles started tightening up, I decided to stop for the day, well short of my impossible goal. My sister's fiance's mom Helga lives right near Union, so I called her, and she very graciously put me up, on zero notice. Thanks Helga! Really nice visiting, and I felt unfortunately rude to have to speed off again early in the morning. But speed off I did, by 7 or so.
It was humid, cloudy, and unseasonably warm ... i found my way back to the trail, and got moving pretty well. The Mohawk River and Erie Canal have large sections of bike path along them. About 1/3rd of the length to Utica is paved, 1/3rd is unpaved, and 1/3rd is inaccessible. More or less a flat day, with my only stops being to read the informational signs (canal history, some herb profiles, maps, etc), and check out General Herkimer's house. The whole day was grey and heavy, which is how Utica/Syracuse/Ithaca seem to be so often after November. But I had to remind myself it had been as beautifully clear and sunny here the week before as it was in MA. Anyway, the canal is pretty cool, what with all the locks and water birds and outcroppings of cut-away hills. A fascinating look at history, geology, and canal culture. I've never been more glad to see Utica (and I understand its layout better than ever, just from one ride through).
Within 6 or 7 miles of Kellogg Street, it began to sprinkle, then rain. I reluctantly put the covers on my bags, and hunkered down for the home stretch. Most of the rest of the trip was uphill, making for a very humbling journey and arrival. My dad passed me and honked, about 2 miles from home. My glasses allowed limited vision, and I had to get into focused riding mode, rather than taking in the familiar scenes. And then ... I made it home ... woo! Things seem really well here, like there's a vibrant health about the place, people, and animals. Good news.
My Achilles seemed at an all-time low point after Sunday's ride. Then Monday I woke up and it felt better than ever! Lots of theories, but as long as I kept tabs on it all day Mon and Tue while riding, it was quite strong. Thank goodness, I feel hopeful for a real recovery.
I'm interested to see what the Canal culture develops into in the next decade or two ... I couldn't help but think about how great a completed bike/horse/pedestrian path would be, to link up the state further. And though the water doesn't always look so inviting, boat transportation/recreation seems pleasant. It was extremely coincidental that the headline of the Utica paper today was about canal traffic being up from last year! We'll see.
A Thanksgiving entry is in line in the next couple days!
Friday, November 12, 2010
Cape Cod and Sheet Mulching UMass
It's been quite a week! I'm currently at the Sirius Community near Amherst, MA, staying with my permaculture friend Ryan Harb. He's spearheading a campaign on the campus of UMass Amherst to sheet mulch a 1/4 acre plot outside a dining hall, and turn it into a permculture demonstration site. So far, it's nothing but a huge success, and there's a huge buzz around campus and the community. I've been on since Monday, sheet mulching with anywhere from 1 to 40 people on the site at once. It's exactly the right work to be doing, it seems, lots of fun, attracting lots of positive attention from curious onlookers. Folks are gaining immediately useful skills that can turn lawn into garden. Read more about the project at http://umasspermaculture.wordpress.com/
Sirius is a great community that's been around a few decades, and is largely based on the model of Findhorn in Scotland. Ryan's place is a cozy apartment in the main building, with a wood stove and two kittens (not his). It's an immensely peaceful place to return to after long days of shoveling and facilitating at the sheet mulching site.
To back up to the last blog entry, I spent a couple more days with Julie and Gail, relaxing on the ocean. More fantastic sunsets, exploring P-town, helping a little at Twist'd Sisters, and a great walk in the Beech Forest with Julie. Thank you guys for a really swell time! I left early Wednesday morning, more or less backtracking toward the base of the Cape. A little colder, but no problem ... I took the rail trail as much as I could, and eventually made it to Camp Burgess, where my childhood friend Mike Thompson was leading teen outdoor expeditions all summer.
The camp was pretty quiet, as it's the end of the summer camp season. There were some really neat woods here, as the soil is stronger than out at the end of the Cape. I rested up my Achilles while it rained, took some nice walks, met Mike's fellow counselors, went to hear some great music nearby, and found a copy of Harry Potter VII. I started reading, and was drawn in for good .... What a nice world to be transported to, to remember some magic and nostalgia for a subconscious comfort. I got on the road early Saturday, throwing myself recklessly toward Amherst, MA. After a wrong turn or two in the dark, I got on track, pedaling to East Providence. It was of course a beautiful sunny day for cycling.
Then I arrived at the Blackstone River Bikeway, and I realized this was my destination for the day - it was the perfect bike trail on a sunny fall day in New England, gliding past a marsh and down a river, leaves more brown and burgundy than the more brilliant oranges and yellows of earlier in the fall. At this point, I think I had biked about 75 miles, and had taken almost no time off the bike and eaten almost no food. I was feeling light and grounded, and inexplicably blissful ... the air was all just more delicious than I could take in, and the world seemed all just as it should be. As the sun began to sink lower, I just kept on pedaling, trying to make as much of the 150 miles to Amherst as I could in Day 1 (when all was said and done, I think I did 90 miles, a new record again!!).
I ran into a tricky spot, as the supposed Southern New England Trunkline Trail had no entry where my Google directions said it should. In fact, there was just a little footpath down to a railroad bridge with no top to it. In my blissful state, I briefly considered walking across the foot-wide I-beam, but the bike made that a foolish impossibility. I managed to find roads around to another entrance to the Trail, and immediately found it to be more of a horse/atv trail, mostly sand, mud, rocks, and water. Still, it was through some really nice woods, and I didn't feel like finding a detour. I plunged ahead onto the trail, and in the waning light I pushed my bike about a mile in before deciding to camp. I climbed up the ledge to one side, and pitched my tent in a little depression out of site from most directions. It never seemed to get fully dark, and I was immediately and persistently surrounded by what sounded like 3 plump and cute woodland creatures scurrying about my campsite. At one point in the middle of the night, a motorbike's headlights roared past, and then an hour later back the other way, and I just had to trust I had picked a totally invisible site.
It must've gotten below freezing, though I hardly felt it somehow, even with the tent's fly off. In the morning I pushed and rode another couple of miles on the dirt trail before deciding it to be too slow going and detrimental for my bike. Finding a detour was no problem, and I was quickly on my way into central MA. I dipped down through CT, and then northward through some nice little towns. When I made it to the UMass campus and tracked down Ryan, he was in a circle with his "dream team" permaculture student committee/class, at the half-finished sheet mulching site. Now, 5 days later, the sheet mulching is nearly finished (250,000 lbs of organic matter distributed!), and the design phase of the garden can begin for the winter.
I'm planning to hit the road again tomorrow morning, westward, and within real striking distance of my parents' house in Clinton, NY. It feels exactly right to be heading for Clinton and Ithaca right now, as this journey eases to a close. About 200 miles to Clinton, and another 85 to Ithaca. Woo!
Sirius is a great community that's been around a few decades, and is largely based on the model of Findhorn in Scotland. Ryan's place is a cozy apartment in the main building, with a wood stove and two kittens (not his). It's an immensely peaceful place to return to after long days of shoveling and facilitating at the sheet mulching site.
To back up to the last blog entry, I spent a couple more days with Julie and Gail, relaxing on the ocean. More fantastic sunsets, exploring P-town, helping a little at Twist'd Sisters, and a great walk in the Beech Forest with Julie. Thank you guys for a really swell time! I left early Wednesday morning, more or less backtracking toward the base of the Cape. A little colder, but no problem ... I took the rail trail as much as I could, and eventually made it to Camp Burgess, where my childhood friend Mike Thompson was leading teen outdoor expeditions all summer.
The camp was pretty quiet, as it's the end of the summer camp season. There were some really neat woods here, as the soil is stronger than out at the end of the Cape. I rested up my Achilles while it rained, took some nice walks, met Mike's fellow counselors, went to hear some great music nearby, and found a copy of Harry Potter VII. I started reading, and was drawn in for good .... What a nice world to be transported to, to remember some magic and nostalgia for a subconscious comfort. I got on the road early Saturday, throwing myself recklessly toward Amherst, MA. After a wrong turn or two in the dark, I got on track, pedaling to East Providence. It was of course a beautiful sunny day for cycling.
Then I arrived at the Blackstone River Bikeway, and I realized this was my destination for the day - it was the perfect bike trail on a sunny fall day in New England, gliding past a marsh and down a river, leaves more brown and burgundy than the more brilliant oranges and yellows of earlier in the fall. At this point, I think I had biked about 75 miles, and had taken almost no time off the bike and eaten almost no food. I was feeling light and grounded, and inexplicably blissful ... the air was all just more delicious than I could take in, and the world seemed all just as it should be. As the sun began to sink lower, I just kept on pedaling, trying to make as much of the 150 miles to Amherst as I could in Day 1 (when all was said and done, I think I did 90 miles, a new record again!!).
I ran into a tricky spot, as the supposed Southern New England Trunkline Trail had no entry where my Google directions said it should. In fact, there was just a little footpath down to a railroad bridge with no top to it. In my blissful state, I briefly considered walking across the foot-wide I-beam, but the bike made that a foolish impossibility. I managed to find roads around to another entrance to the Trail, and immediately found it to be more of a horse/atv trail, mostly sand, mud, rocks, and water. Still, it was through some really nice woods, and I didn't feel like finding a detour. I plunged ahead onto the trail, and in the waning light I pushed my bike about a mile in before deciding to camp. I climbed up the ledge to one side, and pitched my tent in a little depression out of site from most directions. It never seemed to get fully dark, and I was immediately and persistently surrounded by what sounded like 3 plump and cute woodland creatures scurrying about my campsite. At one point in the middle of the night, a motorbike's headlights roared past, and then an hour later back the other way, and I just had to trust I had picked a totally invisible site.
It must've gotten below freezing, though I hardly felt it somehow, even with the tent's fly off. In the morning I pushed and rode another couple of miles on the dirt trail before deciding it to be too slow going and detrimental for my bike. Finding a detour was no problem, and I was quickly on my way into central MA. I dipped down through CT, and then northward through some nice little towns. When I made it to the UMass campus and tracked down Ryan, he was in a circle with his "dream team" permaculture student committee/class, at the half-finished sheet mulching site. Now, 5 days later, the sheet mulching is nearly finished (250,000 lbs of organic matter distributed!), and the design phase of the garden can begin for the winter.
I'm planning to hit the road again tomorrow morning, westward, and within real striking distance of my parents' house in Clinton, NY. It feels exactly right to be heading for Clinton and Ithaca right now, as this journey eases to a close. About 200 miles to Clinton, and another 85 to Ithaca. Woo!
Sunday, October 31, 2010
When I saw her standing there
Train, Ferry, Train, Train, Bike, Bus, Bike. Cape. I'm writing now from near Provincetown, MA, at the end of Cape Cod. The sun is glistening off the ocean, and the wind has died down to what I would consider normal.
After gathering myself and resting on a rainy Wednesday in Brooklyn, I strolled around town and finally to the Manhattan School of Music, where Emily had gotten me some free tickets to an orchestra concert. Beethoven's 8th Symphony, a Prokofiev violin concerto, and a piece by Poulenc. The violin soloist was wildly exciting to hear play. Had a slice of world-renowned NY pizza, and Emily gave me vegetables, then I took a train home to rest up - the plan was to get up at 4:45am to catch a train from Penn Station to Providence, RI (and bike from there) ...
... and sometimes it's just not worth making plans! What I thought would be a simple journey, turned into a series of frustrations that reminded me to just keep letting go. Turns out, Amtrack doesn't allow bicycles on their trains - unless you pack your bike in a box and take the baggage train (that only ever leaves at 2am). Because, as someone sarcastically pointed out to me, Amtrack is just doing so well, why should they try to encourage more customers?! So I tried a couple more things, pushing my loaded bike around Penn Station trying to find some vehicle that would transport me and my "burden." Finally, it ended up that I would take a MTA train down Long Island, and catch a ferry across the LI Sound.
Long Island is quite a cool place, they have trees! I very quickly noticed the change of everybody's demeanor as we rolled away from downtown NY. I got into Port Jefferson, hopped onto a Ferry, and happily floated north. Then in Bridgeport, CT, where the ferry landed, I caught a couple trains as far east as I could get - Saybrook, CT. At long last, I climbed onto my bike and put foot to pedal. It was sunny and the leaves were at a new sort of peak. A perfect fall day, and my route took me through some truly quaint parts of CT. A local fellow on a bike directed me to a bike shop, and suggested a place I could safely camp for the night.
It was probably only a 15 mi. ride, but so refreshing!! got my bike fixed and sat to watch a high school girls' soccer senior game. met some nice folks - I was in Niantic, which is apparently among the top places to live in the country (by some measures). As the sun set, I biked down the road into the back entrance of a park on the beach. I ended up setting up camp in front of a tree line on the beach, between a boardwalk and the high tide line. Wasn't quite sure if I was allowed to be there, but it seemed fine. Camping on the beach presents new challenges - sand, waves, and tide. The waves were crashing constantly, as it seems they do! My only security in the tent is being able to hear what's going on around me, but with wave sounds, it's just blind faith that I'm safe. A good exercise, to take away that sense of hearing. I slept for a couple hours without the fly up, because the stars were magnificent, and the air pleasant. At one point I awoke to a light on the tent, and what I thought was the tail end of a person speaking - I could track the course of blood and adrenaline flowing through my whole body. From then on, I just had to assume that someone knew I was there, and hope they were neither malicious nor law-enforcing. The train went by every now and then. Then I woke up, sat up, and threw off the fly, to reveal the brightest half moon lighting up the whole bay. In one of my next vivid dreams, I did the same thing - sat up in my tent, and looked out on the bay - and there was a whole party of sailing, surfing, pirate ships, and several dozen jubilant folks swimming and laughing, all bathed in the florescent blue-black shine of the moon.
Fortunately or unfortunately, the nights while camping are almost as interesting/exciting as the days. for probably half the night, as the tide was rolling in, I kept checking to make sure the water wasn't about to wash away my tent - because it sounded so loud it must be right below me. It was a relief to see the tide finally receding. Every time I awoke and opened the tent, I looked out on the moonlit star-speckled connecticut bay I had all to myself. Joyous, really. I got up before there was any hint of sunrise, packed in the moonlight, and was on the road as the sky began to lighten.
My morning ride took me into New London, CT, where I figured I'd give public transit one last chance. I waited for the bus station to open, and the attendant (among the more laid-back folks I've met all trip!) sold me a ticket to Providence, like it was no big deal, and he said the bike was no problem. But the bus driver descended the stairs wagging his finger at me and the bike, saying "No, we don't do that. Never have, never will!" to which I responded, "That's a terrible shame!" trying to counter the finality of his statement with some honest sentiment. I'm beginning to see why bicycle activism is so necessary - if no one hounds Greyhound to accommodate pedal power, will it ever change? (because in my mind, an america with more people biking around is a better america ....). I understand the inconveniences of a larger, strangely-shaped piece of luggage, but it's really just that - an extra piece of luggage. It seems a foolish discrimination. I would happily pay the same "extra luggage" as is usually available.
Anyway, the man who sold me the ticket came outside and talked with the driver for a few minutes, and the driver at long last gave me a resigned nod to put my bike in the luggage compartment (there was plenty of room there, but maybe wouldn't have been on a more crowded bus). So thank you to the chill bus station attendant.
I got out at Providence (which is a fine city, everyone is well-dressed it seems), and this time had committed to biking the rest of the way (because it was nice country after all, and I had time to make P-town by Halloween). I eventually found my way out of the city, with the help of those green bike route signs (so helpful, though sometimes misleading!). I would like to point out this pattern of sentence-then-parenthetical-addition (because I just really enjoy it!). I really started covering some ground - measuring it now, it looks like almost 70 miles, a new daily record (10 mi before bus, 55-60 after)!
The title of the blog refers to the song I've been singing since my first day on the bike, and comes up every time I think about the rotations/minute of my pedaling. I've been told to keep a fast pace with little resistance, about 80-90 beats per minute or faster. I haven't actually checked, but I know that a lot of those danceable beatles songs are around 80 bpm - and "When I saw her standing there" came into my head first, and it has stuck. I know my pace is pretty good if the song feels faster than it should when I sing it. So, on most days, I check in by singing "well she was just 17, if you know what i mean ..." and adjust accordingly.
So I found my groove riding east from Providence. There was only one glitch in the trip, which began when the 12.6 miles I was waiting for "Cohannet Rd" started to feel like it had been much more. Just when I was getting ready to find a gas station for a map, I came upon it, Cohannet Rd! So I head down that, looking for "Briggs St." on the right. After 10 or 15 minutes of riding, I found myself at a T intersection with a major road. A woman from a palm/tarot reading store came outside as I looked confusedly at my directions - I asked her what this road was called, and she said "44" - the same road I had been driving 12.6 miles on a few miles back. I told her I was trying to get to Cape Cod, and she flung her hand up the road, saying "You want to go that way." Well, she must have been upset at me not wanting to get a psychic reading, because she very blatantly pointed me due west (which i realized a mile into from the sun's location ..). I asked for directions from two Click and Clack-like fellows in a car, and turned back east. Well, biking that way, it all looked quite familiar. I had just done a big 5 mile loop to get right back where I'd started (add 5 to my daily record!). The first entrance to Cohannet Rd. had been obscured by construction, and traveling the opposite way down it led to my missing a road on the left instead of the right. So ... detours happen.
When I got near the Cape, I stopped at a store labeled "Bakery." Had a nice long conversation with the woman there, over a cran-apple brownie. She's soon going to take the world by storm with her 52 flavors of cannoli!!! check out www.cakesbylil.net to look at pictures of her artfully-crafted cakes (she proudly showed me her "Noah's Arc" creation). She then proceeded to send me away with about 10 pounds of baked goods - brownies, cupcakes, danishes, whoopie pie, and a little chocolate cake. And her motherly instinct intuited that I might need some big plastic bags, which I had been planning to stop for that day! Thanks, Lil!
I made it over to Scusset Beach, north and east of both of the Cape Cod Canal bridges. The highway between the two is not meant for bikes, and I ended up on the raised gravel shoulder for a few miles. Yuck. But the beach was a great recommendation (from Lil, I think) - a few people around, but much more open public space. I set up in the dark, said hi to a supa nice fisherman, and turned in. I could see the lighthouse of Provincetown! Sleep was again deep but spotty, and the wind was tossing my tent so much that I had to use my one earplug to stay sane. Once more, the magnificence of the half moon graced my own private beach home for the night.
I slept in until the eastern sky was lightening, and biked back west with the red-orange of the rising sun lighting up burnt oak leaves on all sides. Not really burnt, but ... you get it. I warmed up in Dunkin' Donuts and charged my phone, then head (illegally) over the Sagamore Bridge onto Cape Cod. I took smaller roads through some really nice little towns - the Cape has many more communities than I usually imagine it having. Then I got some good routes from the internet, which was fortunate, because I was coming up on the Cape Cod Rail Trail - one of the nicest rides I've had all trip! I made another record, as far as I know - 15 mi in one hour (which is nothing crazily fast, but without any obstacles or cars, I could go faster than I usually do).
This was Saturday, and when I stopped to eat in Wellfleet, there will little children parading in their costumes! Someone leaned out his car window and said to me, "You even look like a pumpkin!" as though we had been having a conversation about how I had been planning my halloween costume. Which I had been, but who knows how he knoew that. I then stopped to get some "tendrils" (stripped rose branches) and "blood berries" (autumn olive!!), and completed the ride to Julie and Gail's cottage on the bay. Gail was already getting ready for the evening, dressing as the Queen of Death. Julie was already down at Twisted Sister, her pizza and ice cream shop, ready for a busy evening.
After a dinner at the shop, Gail got to work handing out coupons, I wandered the streets for a while, and came back to get a guitar to play. The costumes and festivities were pretty rad, too much to begin describing! I'll get some pictures up, if I get my hands on any. It was definitely worth getting here to take part in Halloween, Provincetown style. Dancing in the streets, spooky/hilarious/ridiculous/naughty folks and costumes. Oh, and Nancy from Hartland, VT made a return appearance in my trip, helping out for the weekend at the shop.
It's really swell here, and I'm once again gathering myself together. I had a really good long "thinking" session this morning, after spending so much time all trip trying not to think too much, and being in the moment.
I keep asking Julie and Gail, "Is it always this windy," and now I'm wondering, "Is the sunset always this perfect?" It overtakes the entire landscape, which is impressively vast to begin with. Looking forward to more relaxing days out here!
After gathering myself and resting on a rainy Wednesday in Brooklyn, I strolled around town and finally to the Manhattan School of Music, where Emily had gotten me some free tickets to an orchestra concert. Beethoven's 8th Symphony, a Prokofiev violin concerto, and a piece by Poulenc. The violin soloist was wildly exciting to hear play. Had a slice of world-renowned NY pizza, and Emily gave me vegetables, then I took a train home to rest up - the plan was to get up at 4:45am to catch a train from Penn Station to Providence, RI (and bike from there) ...
... and sometimes it's just not worth making plans! What I thought would be a simple journey, turned into a series of frustrations that reminded me to just keep letting go. Turns out, Amtrack doesn't allow bicycles on their trains - unless you pack your bike in a box and take the baggage train (that only ever leaves at 2am). Because, as someone sarcastically pointed out to me, Amtrack is just doing so well, why should they try to encourage more customers?! So I tried a couple more things, pushing my loaded bike around Penn Station trying to find some vehicle that would transport me and my "burden." Finally, it ended up that I would take a MTA train down Long Island, and catch a ferry across the LI Sound.
Long Island is quite a cool place, they have trees! I very quickly noticed the change of everybody's demeanor as we rolled away from downtown NY. I got into Port Jefferson, hopped onto a Ferry, and happily floated north. Then in Bridgeport, CT, where the ferry landed, I caught a couple trains as far east as I could get - Saybrook, CT. At long last, I climbed onto my bike and put foot to pedal. It was sunny and the leaves were at a new sort of peak. A perfect fall day, and my route took me through some truly quaint parts of CT. A local fellow on a bike directed me to a bike shop, and suggested a place I could safely camp for the night.
It was probably only a 15 mi. ride, but so refreshing!! got my bike fixed and sat to watch a high school girls' soccer senior game. met some nice folks - I was in Niantic, which is apparently among the top places to live in the country (by some measures). As the sun set, I biked down the road into the back entrance of a park on the beach. I ended up setting up camp in front of a tree line on the beach, between a boardwalk and the high tide line. Wasn't quite sure if I was allowed to be there, but it seemed fine. Camping on the beach presents new challenges - sand, waves, and tide. The waves were crashing constantly, as it seems they do! My only security in the tent is being able to hear what's going on around me, but with wave sounds, it's just blind faith that I'm safe. A good exercise, to take away that sense of hearing. I slept for a couple hours without the fly up, because the stars were magnificent, and the air pleasant. At one point I awoke to a light on the tent, and what I thought was the tail end of a person speaking - I could track the course of blood and adrenaline flowing through my whole body. From then on, I just had to assume that someone knew I was there, and hope they were neither malicious nor law-enforcing. The train went by every now and then. Then I woke up, sat up, and threw off the fly, to reveal the brightest half moon lighting up the whole bay. In one of my next vivid dreams, I did the same thing - sat up in my tent, and looked out on the bay - and there was a whole party of sailing, surfing, pirate ships, and several dozen jubilant folks swimming and laughing, all bathed in the florescent blue-black shine of the moon.
Fortunately or unfortunately, the nights while camping are almost as interesting/exciting as the days. for probably half the night, as the tide was rolling in, I kept checking to make sure the water wasn't about to wash away my tent - because it sounded so loud it must be right below me. It was a relief to see the tide finally receding. Every time I awoke and opened the tent, I looked out on the moonlit star-speckled connecticut bay I had all to myself. Joyous, really. I got up before there was any hint of sunrise, packed in the moonlight, and was on the road as the sky began to lighten.
My morning ride took me into New London, CT, where I figured I'd give public transit one last chance. I waited for the bus station to open, and the attendant (among the more laid-back folks I've met all trip!) sold me a ticket to Providence, like it was no big deal, and he said the bike was no problem. But the bus driver descended the stairs wagging his finger at me and the bike, saying "No, we don't do that. Never have, never will!" to which I responded, "That's a terrible shame!" trying to counter the finality of his statement with some honest sentiment. I'm beginning to see why bicycle activism is so necessary - if no one hounds Greyhound to accommodate pedal power, will it ever change? (because in my mind, an america with more people biking around is a better america ....). I understand the inconveniences of a larger, strangely-shaped piece of luggage, but it's really just that - an extra piece of luggage. It seems a foolish discrimination. I would happily pay the same "extra luggage" as is usually available.
Anyway, the man who sold me the ticket came outside and talked with the driver for a few minutes, and the driver at long last gave me a resigned nod to put my bike in the luggage compartment (there was plenty of room there, but maybe wouldn't have been on a more crowded bus). So thank you to the chill bus station attendant.
I got out at Providence (which is a fine city, everyone is well-dressed it seems), and this time had committed to biking the rest of the way (because it was nice country after all, and I had time to make P-town by Halloween). I eventually found my way out of the city, with the help of those green bike route signs (so helpful, though sometimes misleading!). I would like to point out this pattern of sentence-then-parenthetical-addition (because I just really enjoy it!). I really started covering some ground - measuring it now, it looks like almost 70 miles, a new daily record (10 mi before bus, 55-60 after)!
The title of the blog refers to the song I've been singing since my first day on the bike, and comes up every time I think about the rotations/minute of my pedaling. I've been told to keep a fast pace with little resistance, about 80-90 beats per minute or faster. I haven't actually checked, but I know that a lot of those danceable beatles songs are around 80 bpm - and "When I saw her standing there" came into my head first, and it has stuck. I know my pace is pretty good if the song feels faster than it should when I sing it. So, on most days, I check in by singing "well she was just 17, if you know what i mean ..." and adjust accordingly.
So I found my groove riding east from Providence. There was only one glitch in the trip, which began when the 12.6 miles I was waiting for "Cohannet Rd" started to feel like it had been much more. Just when I was getting ready to find a gas station for a map, I came upon it, Cohannet Rd! So I head down that, looking for "Briggs St." on the right. After 10 or 15 minutes of riding, I found myself at a T intersection with a major road. A woman from a palm/tarot reading store came outside as I looked confusedly at my directions - I asked her what this road was called, and she said "44" - the same road I had been driving 12.6 miles on a few miles back. I told her I was trying to get to Cape Cod, and she flung her hand up the road, saying "You want to go that way." Well, she must have been upset at me not wanting to get a psychic reading, because she very blatantly pointed me due west (which i realized a mile into from the sun's location ..). I asked for directions from two Click and Clack-like fellows in a car, and turned back east. Well, biking that way, it all looked quite familiar. I had just done a big 5 mile loop to get right back where I'd started (add 5 to my daily record!). The first entrance to Cohannet Rd. had been obscured by construction, and traveling the opposite way down it led to my missing a road on the left instead of the right. So ... detours happen.
When I got near the Cape, I stopped at a store labeled "Bakery." Had a nice long conversation with the woman there, over a cran-apple brownie. She's soon going to take the world by storm with her 52 flavors of cannoli!!! check out www.cakesbylil.net to look at pictures of her artfully-crafted cakes (she proudly showed me her "Noah's Arc" creation). She then proceeded to send me away with about 10 pounds of baked goods - brownies, cupcakes, danishes, whoopie pie, and a little chocolate cake. And her motherly instinct intuited that I might need some big plastic bags, which I had been planning to stop for that day! Thanks, Lil!
I made it over to Scusset Beach, north and east of both of the Cape Cod Canal bridges. The highway between the two is not meant for bikes, and I ended up on the raised gravel shoulder for a few miles. Yuck. But the beach was a great recommendation (from Lil, I think) - a few people around, but much more open public space. I set up in the dark, said hi to a supa nice fisherman, and turned in. I could see the lighthouse of Provincetown! Sleep was again deep but spotty, and the wind was tossing my tent so much that I had to use my one earplug to stay sane. Once more, the magnificence of the half moon graced my own private beach home for the night.
I slept in until the eastern sky was lightening, and biked back west with the red-orange of the rising sun lighting up burnt oak leaves on all sides. Not really burnt, but ... you get it. I warmed up in Dunkin' Donuts and charged my phone, then head (illegally) over the Sagamore Bridge onto Cape Cod. I took smaller roads through some really nice little towns - the Cape has many more communities than I usually imagine it having. Then I got some good routes from the internet, which was fortunate, because I was coming up on the Cape Cod Rail Trail - one of the nicest rides I've had all trip! I made another record, as far as I know - 15 mi in one hour (which is nothing crazily fast, but without any obstacles or cars, I could go faster than I usually do).
This was Saturday, and when I stopped to eat in Wellfleet, there will little children parading in their costumes! Someone leaned out his car window and said to me, "You even look like a pumpkin!" as though we had been having a conversation about how I had been planning my halloween costume. Which I had been, but who knows how he knoew that. I then stopped to get some "tendrils" (stripped rose branches) and "blood berries" (autumn olive!!), and completed the ride to Julie and Gail's cottage on the bay. Gail was already getting ready for the evening, dressing as the Queen of Death. Julie was already down at Twisted Sister, her pizza and ice cream shop, ready for a busy evening.
After a dinner at the shop, Gail got to work handing out coupons, I wandered the streets for a while, and came back to get a guitar to play. The costumes and festivities were pretty rad, too much to begin describing! I'll get some pictures up, if I get my hands on any. It was definitely worth getting here to take part in Halloween, Provincetown style. Dancing in the streets, spooky/hilarious/ridiculous/naughty folks and costumes. Oh, and Nancy from Hartland, VT made a return appearance in my trip, helping out for the weekend at the shop.
It's really swell here, and I'm once again gathering myself together. I had a really good long "thinking" session this morning, after spending so much time all trip trying not to think too much, and being in the moment.
I keep asking Julie and Gail, "Is it always this windy," and now I'm wondering, "Is the sunset always this perfect?" It overtakes the entire landscape, which is impressively vast to begin with. Looking forward to more relaxing days out here!
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