After my musings last night I actually WANTED somebody to ask me why I was riding my bike from MN to MA.  Sure enough, I got a question from a librarian in Herkimer that was close.  "Are you riding for a charity or anything like that?"

An inner voice reminded me of Hemingway's bullying, the research for Princeton, the gold stars, etc.  But all that came out was, "Nope, just doing it for fun."  So much for being clever.

Would you like to know something interesting about Utica, New York?  Well, so would I.  It is possible that Utica has a rich and tantalizing history.  What does it have to offer now?  As far as I can see, only failure.  I rode through the downtown area and took a main street (Bleeker St.) eastward.  It was lifeless and I can't even rationalize that it was a Sunday like I did for Rochester.  There were no interesting-looking restaurants or retail establishments.  No cool buildings.  There was minimal traffic and the people on the streets looked unhappy.  I have never seen so much broken glass on city streets.   Yuck.

Then, on the way out of town, somehow I got onto Interstate Highway 5S.  I can't blame the city for that, but I'd LIKE to.  No, it was my own naïve, head-in-the-clouds persona.

Biking on the interstate is illegal in New York, but rather than turn around, I rode three or four miles to the next exit.  People stared at me, and rightly so.  The entire way I had feelings of anxiety from the thought of a state patrol officer spotting me, doing a double-take, and riding up behind me with his warning lights flashing.  I will let YOU imagine how that traffic stop might have played out.

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