Did Thomas Wolfe Live in Albany?

August 19, 2004

Little Falls to Albany

Knowing that this would probably be my last day on the road, I didn't sleep particularly well. I woke up and found that my clothes were still a little wet from last night. I took each piece of clothing and wound it up inside a towel. Then laying the bundle on the bathroom floor, I stood on it for a minute or two. Most of the remaining water in the clothes was absorbed by the towel. I put on my freshly laundered clothes and walked across the road to the McDonald's where I bought some liquid refreshment.

Back in the room, I had a sumptuous breakfast of cold pizza, coffee and OJ while listening to the somewhat dreary forecast. Rain and thunder storms were predicted for most of the day.

I checked out and paid the bill, now with $6 in room taxes tacked on. Oh, the injustice! Nellie and I decided not to backtrack up the long hill to Bike Route 5. Instead we rolled through town and took another road that, after a much shorter climb, met up with Route 5 about 2 miles to the southeast of town. As it turns out by making this little improvisation, we managed to bypass most of one of the few hills of any size on Route 5.

Luckily for us, the only real big climb lay just ahead. Nellie and I dropped into the granny gear and started the long slow pull through farmland so pretty you could just spit. Near the top we took a break and chowed down on a candy bar purchased from one of the fine vending machines conveniently located in the lobby of the Best Western. The five-mile climb lasted the better part of an hour but was not particularly difficult. I really enjoyed the panoramic view of the valley even with the gray skies looming overhead.

I had hoped to take a bathroom break in Fort Plain but after a long descent into town found that there appeared to be no public restrooms in town. Actually, there appeared to be very little town in town. In Fort Plain I picked up a paved rail trail that is apparently part of the Erie Canal Trail System. I had a scenic view of the New York State Thruway and Bike Route 5 as I made time on the flat straight path. As it turns out, I could have camped anywhere along this trail, but the two hills getting here would have been much harder at the end of what would have been a 100 mile day.

On I rolled through Canajoharie and Fultonville, where services were well hidden in the rust bowl decay. I rolled passed Auriesville and the Auriesville Shrine. When I was very young, my father would pack our family into our Ford Country Squire station wagon and drive out to the Auriesville Shrine. It was always a special outing, but I couldn't remember why. My mother later explained that the Auriesville Shrine commemorates Catholic missionaries of upstate New York who were killed and mutilated by the local Indians. She told me that some priests had their fingers cut off so that they could not raise the host during the consecration. Ah, the leatherstocking days! What fun they must have been! The hillside below the shrine is landscaped with a white stone sign imbedded in the grass and a hedge in the shape of a cross, beckoning the travelers on the Thruway far below in the valley. How disappointed they must be to find no roller coasters or Mickey D's, only memories of hardship and conflict from a nearly forgotten time.

Yogis says, "When You Come to a Fork in the Road, Take it"

Here the pavement on the trail comes and goes until just before Amsterdam. The trail into Amsterdam turns to the north following the river and leaving Bike Route 5 and the Thruway behind. I entered a state park marked on my map as the Canajoharie Historic Crossing Site. I saw no interpretive signs to educate me as to what the heck this park was all about so I rolled on. The park, as far as I could see, is little more than a bike trail with a 25-foot flat grassy side path alongside. The terrain and lack of traffic noise made this an absolutely perfect (albeit potentially illegal) site for camping.

In South Amsterdam I wandered around looking for restrooms and food. It quickly became apparent that neither would be found here, so I crossed the river using the sidewalk on a high bridge. Downtown Amsterdam was more of the same: depressed, torn up, weary. I found a gas station and mini-mart and accomplished my two tasks, trying not to interfere with the locals, who were desperately purchasing cigarettes and lottery tickets.

Armed with a ham and cheese, some water and candy bars, I headed back across the river. All I could think of was that these towns need a sugar daddy with deep pockets. I don't think the locals are holding their breath though. Another odd thought crossed my mind; maybe Amsterdam should rename itself Hampsterdance, the name of one of Leah Mayes' (my sister in law) favorite websites. It sounds the same and certainly evokes a better mental picture than the grim reality I witnessed here.

Just east of Amsterdam, the bike trail gives out and I found myself back on Route 5. I rolled past a bar with a sign that said, 'Bike Parking Only'. So I parked Nellie and took her picture.

Just past the bar, an arrow on the road pointed down a narrow lane. Since I figured this to be a left over marking from the Erie Canal group ride, I followed it. With some encouragement from some local kids, I rode down a long unpaved hill into what looked like an abandoned neighborhood. There at the end of the lane was the towpath along a section of the old Erie Canal. After a mile I crossed Bike Route 5. Then another mile and the trail gave out, putting me back on 5.

As I closed in on Schenectady I was starting to think more about the finish than the riding. I saw an arrow pointing off the road down a path to the right and, without slowing down, turned. Just ahead I saw a trail with three or four posts intending to block motor vehicles from using the trail head. In the other sections of the canal trail system, access was controlled by a gate that reached halfw2ay across the trailhead. As I came upon the posts, I realized that this would be a tight fit. I slowed a bit and tried to zig zag through an opening. As I zagged my front wheel hit some algae on the path and I went down. Somehow I was going slow enough that I simply bounced off the seat and onto the ground. On a conventional bike this kind of crash can send you to the emergency room (been there, done that), but with Nellie I came through it without a scratch. I was unhurt but disappointed as it had been 51 weeks since my last crash on a bike trail in Ohio last summer.

Back on the bike I was rewarded by a smooth and unpopulated paved bike trail and pleasant views of the Mohawk all the way to Scotia. In Scotia I left the trail and followed the arrows on the road to a public park. Apparently this was where the group had some sort of party. I backtracked only to find myself on Bike Route 5 crossing the Mohawk into Schenectady.

I was faced with a choice, continue on 5 through Schenectady, Guilderland and straight into Albany or follow the bike trail along the Mohawk as it meanders to the north, eventually reaching the Hudson at Waterford. Since I have already run this section of the trail (in a marathon many years ago) and biked several sections of it as well, I decided to try the much shorter Bike Route 5.

Bike Route 5 immediately became State Street, the main drag in downtown Schenectady. At a traffic light I met a local bicyclist who warned me of hostile motorists. He told me they yell 'Get on the sidewawk' at you. (Yes, it's time for cawfee tawk.) Forewarned I plodded uphill away from the Mohawk. I came to an block long road construction site. The pavement was all torn up so I had to slowly grind through the gravel and dust. A local motorist, displeased at my pace, raced around me, slowed, then accelerated throwing stones up in his dusty wake. Fortunately Nellie's fairing deflected the stones and I managed to survive my first experience with one of the many fine motorists of Schenectady.

A few blocks later I heard a woman yell 'Get on the sidewawk!' as she drove past. Undaunted I followed the signs for Route 5 until I passed Altamont Road. Knowing that Altamont was a village somewhat west of Albany I began to suspect that I was lost. After about a half mile of riding it became apparent that I was. I asked for directions and was told to go back a half mile and get on Hamburg Street, which is NY Route 146 and Bike Route 5. After some residential exploring I made it to 146 and headed east. Some miles later I entered the village of Niskayuna which I knew to be much too far north to be on route. I consulted my map and learned that in order to go east on Bike Route 5 one must go west on Route 146. I turned around and headed back across Schenectady and, after missing the turn onto Hamburg Street (bad lab rat indeed), somehow found myself on 146 crossing over into Albany County and the Town of Guilderland.

Bike Route 5 and NY 146 is rather treacherous through this stretch. There is nearly no shoulder and the traffic moves like a drunken bowler, heavy and aggressive. The only way to survive this is to take the lane and ride aggressively. This is no fun, but I did it anyway. Fortunately, after several miles of this insanity, I came upon two little girls selling lemonade and cupcakes from a roadside stand. I knew that I was only a short distance from my brother Jim's house so I asked one of the girls if she knew his daughter Anna. 'We're best friends.' Certain she wasn't going to poison me, I bought a cupcake and two lemonades and proceeded to demonstrate how not to politely eat a snack.

Fortified I rode on to Jim's house (getting lost briefly on the way), hoping to get a rowdy reception from Anna and her two brothers and maybe jump in their pool for good measure. They weren't home. So it was on to Mom's house.

Back on 5, NY Route 146 gives way to US 20. This is a four-lane highway that, most of the time, has a three-foot-wide bike lane on it. The bike lane is fine except for the fact that it is strewn with stones and small car parts. With storm clouds brewing overhead, I rode on as aggressively as could, and in another 25 minutes found myself rolling up my mother's driveway on a quiet dead end street in Albany. After saying hellos to various relations, I rolled Nellie into the garage. I sat down to have a glass of water and the skies opened up.

How dry I am.

Today's ride: 92 miles (148 km)
Total: 355 miles (571 km)

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