To Malone

July 27, 2021

We look forward to an easy, straight-forward ride this morning. We’re changing directions again, breaking away from the Seaway and bending southeast toward Malone. Under different circumstances we might have continued northeast along the Seaway but we’re constrained by the international border and Covid travel restrictions that won’t ease for another week yet.

It’s only 37 miles to Malone. A short ride, mandated by the lack of other towns in that direction with lodging. Our main consideration today is the weather. We need about four hours, and it looks like that’s available. We leave our motel at 8:30, just after a brief shower ends. The next ones aren’t due until about 2 so we should be fine. Arriving in Malone around noon, we’ll be too early to check in at our hotel so we plan on having lunch as our main meal of the day when we get there.

Leaving Massena. It’s overcast still and almost chilly enough for an extra layer, but dry. The last showers ceased about fifteen minutes ago.

The first ten miles meet our expectations for the day. We’re off the highway and on quiet roads, biking past attractive fields and old barns. For the first five miles we bike east following the Raquette River, and then cross it and angle southeast for another five miles before coming to the Saint Regis. We’re making good time, almost a third of the way through the ride and I’m starting to think about lunch.

Barn of the day. I like the structure of this one. It looks like the back side was patched on as an afterthought.

It’s turning into a surprisingly pretty ride. The wildflowers lining the road seem particularly striking this morning.

Some hives. They blend in nicely with the chicory.

Zooming in on the second bridge in the photo above. I’m glad to have taken this shot, because we’ll soon find this bridge more interesting than expected.

Immediately after crossing the Saint Regis we turn right and discover that the day has unexpected surprises in store for us. There’s a second, smaller river, the Deer, that flows into the Saint Regis here. Our route crosses it too, but not today - this bridge is out and the route is barricaded. When I arrive Rachael is discussing our options with a construction worker who’s not much help because he’s not from around here and it’s his first day on the job.

I stare at our Garmin looking for alternatives. It looks like there’s potentially an easy one - over that second bridge in the photo above. If it’s open (for all I can tell, it might just be a railroad bridge) we can just backtrack to there and cross the Saint Regis again just downstream from the confluence with the Deer.

I ask the construction worker, but he doesn’t know. Then a man calls out from the front yard of his house and says he thinks bikes can cross it. It’s a short enough detour that we might as well test it out.

Well, there’s a problem. This bridge is barricaded too. It looks like we could get across if we can get the bikes through the barricades at both ends. They can’t go under or around, but lifting them over the top works. Not the best activity if you are nursing an aching back, but otherwise it works out fine. Slow going though.

We’re on the bridge, might as well take another photo of the river as long as we’re here.

Interesting. The day is turning into an adventure.

So, that all worked. On the other side, we bike past the first bridge closure and confirm that crossing it was a definite no-go.

Yes, the bridge is definitely out for repairs.

An attractive old home in Helena, the village on the other side of the two bridges.

The next few miles are delightful riding. Other than one motorcycle, there’s not another vehicle than ours on the road as we bike through woods that we later learn are in the Brasher Falls State Forest. Then we cross the Deer River again, turn right off Smith Road, and - the pavement ends.

The next six miles are interesting as we cross the swampy state forest on a path that from the map I thought was Seasonal Road, but I now see was ‘a seasonal road’, perhaps only viable at certain times of the year. We’re lucky that its in pretty good shape at the moment - dry for the most part, and a reasonable cycling surface except in spots where it becomes too sandy to bike so you have to dismount and push.

Rachael has gotten ahead of me because it’s all quite beautiful so I stop a few times with the camera. I’m startled to suddenly hear her shouting and cursing. She’s weaving pretty badly so I assume she’s cursing the sand, but then the words start registering: BUGS!!! She’s being swarmed by bugs and can’t escape them easily because it’s too sandy to bike.

On a seasonal road. From the map, we come to a junction in about a half mile - maybe we’ll find pavement then.

Nope. Not on pavement yet. We’re still on a seasonal road. Our Garmins tell us it’s 4.2 miles until we get to Best Road. With a name like that, surely it will be paved.

4.2 miles later, we finally come to Best Road and are disappointed to find out that it’s not the best after all, but is at least better. In another half mile though we do finally return to pavement and are back on track, with an easy 16 miles left before reaching Malone and our planned lunch stop.

Not the best road, but at least somewhat better.

Video sound track: Where the Road Gets Rough, by Frank Foster

Except that the day still has some more fun in store for us. Almost as soon as we hit pavement it begins raining. It’s a light shower for a few miles and teases us into thinking we’ll break out of it. But it’s just a tease. Instead, it gradually intensifies into a real rain.

It’s not a terrible rain, but sixteen miles of it does its damage. By the time we reach Malone we’ve abandoned plans for a lunch stop and instead head straight to our hotel, arriving pretty well soaked - the first time in awhile I’ve been able to wring water out of my gloves.

And here, we want to put in a plug for this Red Roof Motel. I’m always apprehensive entering a motel looking like a drowned rat, wondering how I’ll be received. We’re an hour and a half before check-in so we don’t really expect our room to be ready yet; but hopefully we can hang out in the lobby and Rachael can access a badly needed bathroom.

The lady at the counter doesn’t flinch at all. Our room isn’t quite ready, but she’ll walk down the hall herself and help the cleaning lady get one ready immediately and we can access it in about ten minutes. In the meantime, of course we can sit in the lobby, use the facilities, and have some coffee or hot chocolate. And of course we can bring our dripping bicycles inside and take them into our room once it’s ready.

She returns a few minutes later and says our room is ready and cautions us that the floor is still wet because they just finished mopping it. Which is fine, because it gets wetter still anyway once we’re done unloading things. To top it off, wonder of wonders, the place has a washer and dryer so we can dry out all of our wet clothes. I have a feeling of immense gratitude toward this Red Roof motel.

We imagine they’ll still be soggy in the morning.

Heart

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Ride stats today: 36 miles, 1,100’; for the tour: 2,200 miles, 64,700’

Today's ride: 36 miles (58 km)
Total: 2,200 miles (3,541 km)

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Bruce LellmanYour two swamp photos are really beautiful.
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3 years ago

Scott AndersonTo Bruce LellmanThanks for the feedback! They came at a cost - four or five mosquito bites that must have come when I stopped for these shots.
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3 years ago