October 15, 2016
Syracuse to Ithaca: Back in my day, I had to bike 60 miles to Ithaca, uphill and into the wind
As I was leaving the motel, I noticed a white-haired man with a tidy moustache was looking at me.
He started talking, with the exaggerated voice and expression normally reserved for surprised actors in comedies. He was astounded at what I was doing and wanted to know, "What do your parents think??"
I considered telling him some of the other places I've been, but as he was a good American--afraid of the rest of the world--he might have died of shock, so I stuck with the standard, "I think they're used to it by now."
New York Bicycle Route 11 took me out of Syracuse, and it was truly remarkable: I was able to follow the signs all the way out of the city. Not that it's a big city, nor a city full of traffic on Saturday morning; downtown was deserted compared to the insanity to the north. It was a good thing I had space because there was lots of glass on the road all the way through the city.
Syracuse itself had many industrial-looking, brick buildings, many with ads painted on their sides. Because they were 1800s buildings and not 1960s ones, they were interesting instead of ugly.
Further south, I passed through an area of formerly attractive homes, now falling apart, a slumping roof here, a rotting porch there, broken windows in the vacant homes. One blue one looked like it was collapsing into itself; it had a For Rent sign on the front.
After the city, the road went up. When I say it went up, I mean it went up and kept going up. It was one of those roads where you don't think it's possible for it to keep going up beyond that curve or once you crest the current rise, but then it laughs in your face and keeps going up, even though there's plenty of lower land around that you'd think they could've built the road on.
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Did I mention there was a headwind? It was just strong and gusty enough to make me uneasy where the shoulder was narrow, which was pretty much the whole first section.
It finished me off pretty quickly, but I was nowhere near Ithaca yet, so I had to keep going. I spent most of the day whimpering and pleading for it to stop every time I encountered the slightest climb.
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Not a day I'd like to repeat. The climbing would've been tiring enough on its own; the wind was devastating.
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Right at the end, there was a crazy steep descent, much of it through Cornell's campus, so steep that I barely managed to stop at one of the stop signs, and when I put my foot down on dry pavement, my cleat slipped.
When I finally reached the bottom and landed in downtown Ithaca, I looked down and saw my front tire was nearly flat. Oh crap, how long had I been riding on that? It looked fine when I wasn't adding my weight to the bike, could I have been riding like that all day?
Okay. Against all odds, I'm here. And beyond exhausted. I can't believe how bad my legs feel. Clearly there is no way in hell I'm ever going to make it back up that hill. I need to find another way out of this town. Maybe there is no other way; maybe that's why they say Ithaca is one of those places you visit and never want to leave.
I did some light sightseeing on Sunday, and it is a nice town. It has a really active community, I walked around and saw signs outside homes for "Porchfest." The farmer's market was quite professional, yet just outside the pavilion, along the waterfront path, there are assorted benches that look very homemade. There are tons of bikes, haven't seen so many since Montreal. Here, they're all locked with cables. In Montreal it was all U-locks and heavy chains.
Today's ride: 92 km (57 miles)
Total: 1,986 km (1,233 miles)
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