My original plan for May 2nd, was to do a 95 mile round trip from Rochester to Canandaigua, around the lake, and back.  The night before I'd already begun changing my mind and suggested to my wife that we have a date at the Bee Hive in Canandaigua so I could get a ride home.  Luckily, Dave joined me on the trip around the lake.  Dave has a journal on this platform and leaves for his cross-country trek in about ten days.  He has generously provided a lot of knowledge and inspiration, but on this particular day, he saved my dumb @#$ in a number of ways. 

The day before I'd done the trip to Canandaigua with my panniers loaded. Today I removed the bags, in part to see if I noticed a difference.  I still have a bit of gear to purchase, namely, bottle cages, a helmet light, maybe a trunk/rack bag.  Without the panniers--and no bottle cages--I decided to put my water bottle, air pump, bike lock and phone charger in a string bag.  Then I decided to use a bungee cord to strap the string bag to my bike rack as if it were a trunk bag.  I should have checked my check list.  

Ride to Canandaigua went quickly--no wrong turns today.  I made it with 20 minutes to spare.  First thing I noticed: I'd forgotten my wallet.  Luckily, in anticipation of burning calories, I'd eaten a substantial breakfast.  Oh well, instead of ordering food I put one of my Nuun tablets in a cup of water.  Legs felt good.  It was a beautiful day.  Dave arrived and we set off.

The route around the lake is about 42 miles.  The route also requires climbing 2800 feet of elevation.  The first half went pretty smoothly.   There was a sizable hill.  My rigged trunk bag was still attached.  Until it wasn't.  "Dave!" I was trailing and struggling: at this point we were on our third or fourth sizable hill.  He stopped and I explained I needed to backtrack and find my string bag.  Truthfully, I was glad to be out of the saddle--I started walking back.  After about 50 yards, I looked up to see a motorcyclist coming my way with an arm extended, holding a teal-colored string bag.  I thanked him profusely.  The bungee cord had snapped and there was a tear in the bag.  I asked Dave to put my phone charger and Nuun in his actual trunk bag.  Dave was extremely gracious.  At this point I was feeling like a burden, as if I was Dave's 12-year-old son: I'd forgotten my wallet, Dave had given me one of his snack bars during a short break, now he'd had to wait while I dealt with my lack of proper gear.  I put the tattered string bag on my back, we saddled up and continued.  

The hills were brutal.  If it weren't for Dave, I would have walked portions of at least one.  I huffed, puffed and hacked my way up and we made it.  Actually our time was decent, considering my little equipment mishaps.  

Dave bought me a beer and offered me a ride home--saving my wife a trip, and continuing his role as my savior.  I have little doubt that I have confirmed his decision to do the cross-country trip solo, rather than with a friend.  If you haven't read Bill Bryson's A Walk in the Woods, I strongly recommend it; on this day Dave was Bill, I was Bill's friend.

It was a great day.  Weather couldn't have been better.  Ride was beautiful.  And Dave saved my @#$ three times over.  Unfortunately, my gray matter was so focused on keeping my legs moving, that I forgot to get photos.