Maybe it's natural to want to look back and see how things have changed, or not, as you age. I'm not immune to curiosity, so my next big day-ride had a theme of checking out my initial entry portal to the Finger Lakes, namely, Waterloo NY. I was ten when my family first moved there from deep in the mountains of Pennsylvania, and we lived there roughly five and a half years … longer than I had lived anyplace prior to my final return to New York in 1991. By "final", I mean that I had moved in and out of the state a couple times before returning for keeps. I'm sure avid cyclists understand the lure of the Finger Lakes that has drawn and kept me here.

With another sunrise start on a perfect weather day, I put the pedal-to-the-metal and zoomed out of Rochester, straight down Route 96 …

and arrived in Waterloo in 3 & 1/2 hours. I caught Karen still lounging at home with a FaceTime call while sitting on the steps of my old elementary school on Main Street where I started 6th grade.

We chatted about if either of us remembered a huge stone memorial in the park. The weird thing about the memorial (which neither of us remembered because it wasn't built yet) was a plaque embedded in stone that listed the names of the "Centennial Committee" recognizing 100 years of high school education: 1886 to 1986. It's one of those plaques that will eventually become corroded and no longer legible. It's already on it's way, just since 1986, and since I left there in 1971, that makes me feel kinda crusty too. But even more so, I read the list of names and recognize one: Roger Meadway. 

On my way around town, I got to "The Place" that first captured this little ten-year-old's fascination in the summer of 1966 as he explored his first day in town on his bike. Just a few blocks from our new home ...

… I discovered the "Coolest Thing I'd Ever Seen". The Cayuga-Seneca Canal Lock 4.
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Imagine, a poor little hic kid from the mountains of Pennsylvania discovering this river-thing with the BIGGEST doors on the planet and BOATS rising and falling in the DEEPEST hole in the world and water spraying and exploding all over and … and … HOLY CRAP! That kid spent the WHOLE DAY watching all this excitement!!!  (That kid STILL loves watching all this!)

So after waiting a while and no boats were coming through (sniff), I headed out toward Geneva on the (new since I lived there) Cayuga-Seneca Canal Trail. Excellent condition, no trouble riding with inch and a half tires, and shady-wooded almost the entire way to Seneca Lake State Park. One delay: I stopped at the bridge crossing at Kendig Creek for a photo.

Where the creek fills into the canal was a favorite summer swimming hole way back when. There was a tree with a rope, of course, that hung over the water providing tons of fun.

So important to my formative years, I made a point of revisiting the spot on one of my two summer bike tours from Ohio.

On the bridge, I met a group of three siblings, including Mark Venuti, Geneva Town Supervisor. We discovered in chatting that we had both been at Babcock-Hovey in the same years and he knows John Kenny who was a popular scout leader and now owns a business on the north side of the canal (on RT5&20), renting houseboats for overnights like an AirB&B. How cool. Gotta go pay a visit.

​On to Seneca Lake State Park. I took a PB&J break at the shoreline …

… and thought about Rusty. Rusty was a good friend and member of my boy scout troop. I was working on camp staff and my troop came down for a week at camp Babcock-Hovey near Ovid. After their week, Rusty's parents picked him up and they spent the day/evening boating off Geneva when he and his dad were killed by drunk boaters who slammed into their boat, killing both of them. I, and members of our troop, carried him to his burial. Only a couple years later, I enlisted in the Coast Guard.

Out of Geneva, I ran into the Ontario Pathways trail on County Road 4, and "redirected" yet again from my pre-planned route. I'm easy.

Since I'm clearly in "path" mode now, I may as well finish the ride by heading north and taking the Erie Canalway Trail home. I headed up to Newark, connected to the canal trail …

… and followed it home toward Pittsford where, yet again, I rendezvoused with Karen, this time at the dairy barn. But … they were NOT serving milk shakes (my standard post-ride recovery drink), so we headed home and I got my reward at Netsins in my neighborhood.

All is Good!  Century #11 today. 118 mostly flat riding miles today. I'll get my hilly stuff later.

I had mentioned to Karen a couple discoveries from yesterday's century. The first of which was what appeared to be a development of a trailhead along Conesus Lake that I had not seen in past rides in the area. Another was a Nature Conservancy property, with marked trails, that I'm certain did not exist the last time I had been on Bald Hill many years ago. Looking for an excuse to chill out and recover gracefully from yesterday's hammerfest, I suggested to Karen we could grab our fat bikes and explore a little and maybe do a "little hiking" as well. Karen was totally up for that. I wondered what I just got myself into.

We headed up to Purcell Hill Road and got to the trailhead of the Canadice Haul Road along the west side of Canadice Lake. Canadice Lake, along with Hemlock Lake, way up in the hills south of Rochester, are the primary water reservoirs for the city. That means the shorelines are undeveloped unlike all the other Finger Lakes, and are surrounded by protected State Forest lands. And they are stunningly beautiful and pristine. The Conesus Haul Road is gated to prevent motorized vehicles, but hikers and bicyclists can easily traverse the 4.2 mile route along the west side of the lake … which we did.

That was sweet … easy flat cruising along the side of the lake and in the woods was too serene. But then we packed the bikes back in the car and headed up to "Rob's Trail". I discovered this yesterday.

The Conesus/Hemlock state forest has a gap of land between the two lakes that got "connected" by the Nature Conservancy. The land creates a bridge between the two lakes enabling hiking shoreline-to-shoreline. So we parked at the trailhead on Bald Hill (NY Route 15A) and initially started hiking Rob's Trail down toward Hemlock Lake because of a trail note about a waterfall along the trail. We saw that NO water was flowing in the gorge, so we reversed course toward Canadice Lake. Gorgeous.

These are steep hills between the lakes … great for biking but for hiking as well!

We plan to return to finish the section going to the Hemlock shoreline, most likely in a future springtime when the water will be flowing. So, 8 miles biking, 4.2 miles hiking, and I expect to sleep well tonight. Maybe tomorrow is a REAL rest day?
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Cheers!

​b

I hacked out a plan to visit the four smaller Finger Lakes due south of Rochester: Honeoye, Canadice, Hemlock and Conesus. I did manage to visit each one on today's ride, but not in the way I had planned. My "plan" was based on the local Rochester weather I saw that promised low 70's and little to no chance of rain, although a bit windy. What I didn't plan for was the weather expected for down south!

Heading out, I saw a bit of sprinkles getting south of Pittsford, but it passed quickly. I wish the wind had as well, but I'll take it. As usual, it was a bit of a struggle getting into the hills with significant southwest winds, but as the days are long, I knew I had time to add-on a bit of extra hills approaching Honeoye in the early part of the ride. From Honeoye, the fun really started.

Up Jersey Hill Road.
UP CR37.
Down Burch Hill Road.
Up Purcell Hill Road.
Up Lawrence Hill Road.
Down Old Bald Hill Road. (42.7mph!)
Up Johnson Hill Road.
Up Canadice Lake Road.
Down Marvin Hill Road.

Whew! Let's stop for a coke break in Springwater and stand in the rain. Yeah … I'm gettin' rained on since turning onto Canadice Lake Road … PLUS getting blasted by the winds. I ask the young lady at the Dollar General checkout: "Is it supposed to rain today?"

"Yes"

OK … let's think about this. My "plan" was to climb out of Springwater on Marrowback Road, a 6 mile climb on a dirt road. Plus another three miles to Wester's Country store in Conesus, my first chance at shelter if the rain and wind gets dangerous. Never mind the mud on Marrowback. So, thinking like an adult (which I'm not too skilled at), I decide to skip Marrowback … the whole REASON for coming down here … and head straight up NY15A toward Hemlock where I could quickly find shelter if necessary. Five miles later, I'm on the top of the hill and sure enough, the sun pops out!

#@%^*!

I decide in Hemlock, I can take Rix Hill Road westbound and reconnect with my planned track, but the bridge over the outlet is under reconstruction. So, I stop at the Hemlock Lake Park to pause and figure out a plan. Nice park, but there's a bronze plaque at the entrance that catches my eye.

It's a historical plaque showing the routes of the Sullivan and Clinton expeditions going through here in 1779, "… against the Hostile Indian Nations …" and "extending westward the domino of the United States." Yeah, I'd bet the native Indian Nations of our area were very hostile to white man coming in, spreading disease, raping their women, destroying their crops and murdering everyone in their quest to colonize the new world. Yeah, I'd be a bit "hostile" too.

Outta there via Adams Road, I eventually reconnect with my route and soon after arrive in Avon. Now, I've ridden through Avon countless times but I admit I've only "noticed" a big statue/memorial in the village's park/traffic circle, but I stopped for a break to eat my PB&J, and discovered yet another historical piece. The huge monument (45' tall) in the center, which was installed/completed in the late 1800's, is a dedication (with names) to the local Union Civil War soldiers who fought for the end of slavery.

Happy to see that, I still left town confused how our leaders (and followers) justified killing one group but fought to save others from slavery. What can explain the confusing morality, or if any exists at all?

Back up into the city, I wrap up century #10 with 103 miles and one helluva tan. The red line in the image below was the plan, and the green line was the actual. And now … What next?

Looking to cobble together another century ride, I noted that our club has only a few rides "out that way" toward Batavia of particular interest. It's pretty farm country for the most part, but lacks the geologic amenities we so love east and south of Rochester. But if one wants a gentle long day ride, there are plenty of nice back roads to be had there. In fact, farm country doesn't have a lot of traffic as compared to other places, so that is a draw in itself. Wanting to take my Pangea out for a spin, it was a good fit. Comfy riding, comfy bike. To get started, I headed out toward Brockport on the Erie Canalway Trail.

Early morning in Brockport, on a Sunday, with Covid-19 restrictions, I assumed the main street in town would be quiet. Correct. But surprisingly, I was able to score a quick red-eye at the only open biz, Java Junction. Only in town long enough to chug one, I was quickly headed south on NY19, aka "Bike Route 19" with it's clean, wide and smooth shoulder for miles and miles. Nearing Bergen, I ran across a previously undiscovered rail-trail and stopped to chat with a guy and his dog (dog wasn't into chatting much) who had just walked out one side of the trail. He shared that although not very long, the West Shore Railroad Trail is a nice quiet trail and he made a point of assuring if not encouraging me that it's open to bikes! (I would hope so!) Pinned it on my GPS for later exploration.

But in the Bergen area, I picked up on clear signage of political leanings. I went past a row of at least 6 or 7 or 8 properties that enthusistically displayed lawn signs and huge flags promoting the current narcissist-in-chief with slogans like "No More Bullshit" and "Promises Made, Promises Kept" making me wonder what un-reality TV shows the owners tune into. Clearly, I haven't made any plans of homeownership and supporting the local tax base in the area. Feeling sad about the neighborhood, I continued on to Batavia.

Arriving in Batavia's downtown, I'm further offended by the loud noise of a pickup truck driving down Main Street way too fast, horn blaring incessantly while the owner displayed yet another "Bullshit" flag. Getting closer to the main street, I then see a crowd of people gathering around city hall.

Feeling uncomfortable, you know what I'm thinking now, right?

I was wrong.

Stopping at Main Street, I realize that not all the neighbors in the area agree with the truck driver. In fact, there were at least (my guess) about two or three hundred folks there with very clearly different opinions, and entirely in line with mine. I spent a while in the crowd enjoying the unity of the group protesting, peacefully yet firmly in support of Black Lives Matter.

Batavia, you surprised me, but you made me proud. As the march headed off, I too headed off into the countryside heading back toward Rochester. I took another break at a small park in Leroy, to get rid of a fresh-this-morning PB&J. It was just as good as the two week old one I had on an earlier ride. The rest of the day was really nice with only a slight pushback from northerly winds to slow me down, and once getting back to Scottsville after a glorious cruise on Oatka Trail and North Road, I jumped on the Genesee Valley Greenway to hide from the wind and got back in town to rendezvous once again with Karen who was already out cycling.

One hundred and three miles for Century #9 of 2020, making my biggest mileage week (423) of the year. At 3789 to date, my mid-term goal is to hit 5000 by the end of June.

Wish me luck!

A short recovery ride to downtown.

Jumping into the Wayback Machine yet again, I plotted out a track file mostly representing RBC #54, The Lake Ontario Centuries, more generally known as the Lyndonville Century. Because who would want to cut such a great opportunity to knock off an easy century … in fact … perhaps the one that so many old timers cut their "First Ever Century" teeth on?

Knowing from experience how near totally flat this one is, I felt it was a great choice for Old Blue, once again. As you may have read in an earlier post, my Old Blue (built in 1977, yet modded extensively since) has since been converted to a "semi-single-speed". Semi, meaning it's a single cog freewheel in the rear, but employs a crank with two chainrings, most recently switched from a 34/48 to a bigger geared 39/53. And as a "flip-flop" rear end, I can choose to use a 22 tooth cog if I think I need to take it easy, OR in today's case, I can use a 17 tooth for faster rolling.

And fast (for me anyway) it was today. With mostly steady and gentle winds, plenty of sunshine, and perhaps some of the quietest (if not nearly abandoned in places) roads with lightly used surfaces in generally great shape, Old Blue managed the job just fine.

With a sunrise start while it was still cool outside …
​

... it was a pretty quick cruise out to Lyndonville with only one stop along the way for a coke and a (shortie!) can of Pringles. Fat. Salt. Ya know? On the way, my slightly modified route took me down "Woodchuck Alley" that started out paved, yet soon turned to gravel, thereby explaining the "Seasonal Use Highway" sign that appeared to make no sense, at least initially. So, about a mile of gravel on super-skinny tires isn't the greatest part of the ride, but it revealed a gem of a pretty spot at the Beechwood Cemetery. With my attention split between observing the park, and watching for road hazards, I had an "Oh-Phooey" moment a few miles later for not stopping for a photo. Especially when I learned of it's "history". Check it out:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Agd1zurrUR4

Onward into the mild headwinds (and thankful for the cooling as the day warmed), I reached Lyndonville, 57 miles out and in just over 4 hours. Yay Old Blue!
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Another quick c-store stop, this time for an icy cold chocolate milk, and I'm back on the road heading north toward the Lake Ontario shoreline. Aaaaah … the tailwind I was hoping for! On the way TO Lyndonville, I was switching frequently between the 39 and 53 chainrings, but on the return, it was 53/17 big gear tailwind fun nearly the whole way back to Rochester. The first detour off the planned route was a photo-op at the Oak Orchard Lighthouse …
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… and I took another stop in Hamlin Beach State Park to FINALLY eat that PB&J sandwich that I made two weeks ago.
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One more coke stop at the corner of Long Pond Road and Edgemere where I texted Karen to let her know I was inbound. She was out on her bike and we rendevoused in the city before heading home. But arriving home, I was JUST SHORT of a double metric century, so we remounted and headed for Netsins Ice Cream. Nice way to wrap it up for the day!

Hmmm .... that's eight centuries so far in 2020. What's Next?
Cheers!

​b

An Oldie but Goodie for sure, RBC #84 is a "vintage" ride, designed in 1972 by Dr. Richard Burns, or "Dick" as everyone knew him. And yes, EVERYONE knew him. Dick was among many things, best known as the Maps Director for what seemed like an eternity of RBC's growing years. And it was on this ride back in 1978 that I first met him … as he led The Old Hilly. Many years later, the Doctor took me under his wing and transitioned the duties of the club's maps management to me, at a time that he had upgraded the map drawing procedures to AutoCAD.

Procedures and staff have evolved, but without question, RBC's maps development into a powerhouse of an inventory of rides was kickstarted by the good Doctor's dedication, and a wonderful sense of humor. Dick's passing was a huge loss to the club, but a great many of us likely honor his memory when we do one of his rides.

And today, I honored him once again by revisiting the ride I first met him on, so many decades ago.

The Old Hilly (currently exists only in pdf format … no RWGPS GPS track as yet) normally starts at the Wegman's plaza at Bay and Empire … conveniently close to where Dick lived, so he could ride to the start. Extra Credit. Coming from the city (via Empire BLVD) I was able to intercept the route at Plank Road, and exit the route toward home at Atlantic. Otherwise, I meticulously, though not perfectly, adhered to the 106 mile route as mapped and ended up with 112 including my short commute from/to home. Anyone having done this ride will understand that the ride uses roads that are recycled many times over on other RBC mapped rides. It was a very "exploratory" ride back in it's day, but obviously, RBC members have done countless explorations since then.

An early start on nearly empty roads got me out to Canandaigua Road pretty quickly with "Stop #1" for a coke at the C-store at the corner of Lakeshore and NY364 in C-daigua. Till then, the Old Hilly really isn't by current standards, but it starts to pick up with the turn up County Road 18 (Lincoln Hill). Up to Middle Road and down to Rushville, the route packs it's first surprise at Pierce Hill Road … the steepest (but thankfully short) incline of the ride. After that, it's a free ride to Middlesex where The Old Country Store is back in operation after years of silence. I was really ready for pizza, but at 9:30am, they were already out of slices from the 1st batch, so I settled for the last remaining breakfast sandwich … and a coke. (Shocking, I know!)
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Having refueled there, I didn't need to stop at Crosby's in Naples as normal, but I did pause at the village park and noticed that the water spigot wasn't operating, the park tables/benches had all been removed, and Bob and Ruth's was unstaffed. I didn't see a single human in town. On a beautiful sunny day in May. Inconceivable any other time. Sad.

Up County Road 12 (no wind and blistering sun … as usual), I reach the overlook of Canandaigua Lake. I'm sure most club riders know the spot.
​

New development (or the first I've noticed?), they now have a couple binocular stands there. You know, the kind you plug a quarter into? Hey … no quarter required! So, of course, I lost a few minutes there before continuing on to Bristol Springs, Bristol Center, and my next pause (Stop #2) at the C-store at the corner of NY64 and 5&20 for a … (insert best guess here).

OK, so at this point, the Old Hilly has presented the rider with only two or three noticeable climbs, all after a really easy cruise to Canandaigua from the start. So, how come we call it a "Hilly Century"? Two things …  #1 … back when this ride was developed "10-speed" bikes were the standard and triples for touring were rare. And we had 5-speed "freewheels", not the nine, ten, eleven and even 12 cog cassettes of today.  #2 … after about 70 miles and heading north of 5&20, one starts to realize that our terrain starting just south of Victor and up to the north of Perinton ain't exactly flat. My Stop #3 happened at Fellows Road Park, less than an hour from home. With few stops getting to this point, rising humidity and temps approaching 90 degrees, I Really Wanted A Break! I finished a Clif bar, added electrolyte to my remaining water bottle (2 liter hydro-pack already exhausted), and just sat in the shade for 15-20 minutes. That helped, a lot.

Finally back in my hood, I texted Karen and advised her I was approaching Netsin's Ice Cream shop just before home. She hopped on her bike and met me there, and I celebrated a nice day with a … WRONG … Malted Vanilla Shake! (Thought you had me, 'eh?)

Thanks Dick!

Because, that's what Old Blue did today.

If you had followed my original blog or social media posts in the old days, you'd be familiar with Old Blue. But for newer readers … Old Blue is my custom frame bike from 1977. Frame was built right here in Rochester, and I built it up to become a fast touring bike from parts sourced from local bike shops.

Remember "bike shops"? In pre-internet days, we always got everything we'd need from our LBS's.

I still do.

Anyway … Old Blue has countless miles and adventures on it. ("It", not "he", "she" or any other gender pronoun. It's a bike. Don't anthropomorphize it. It hates that.) And it's been through a lot over the years. The original fork developed a crack near the crown and had to be replaced. I changed to a Chris King headset with a higher stack than the original, so the head tube had to be milled down to fit. The top tube got dented during shipping (or assembly at a bike shop, I really think) to a bike tour in Utah. And while leading it's first Southern Tier tour for Adventure Cycling, the down tube developed a really nasty crack after grunting up a mountain to an observatory. It survived the tour with creative use of hose clamps, but that last incident inspired me to take it to my bike frame builder and buddy Andy to actually rebuild the front 1/2 of the frame … and it came out wonderfully! Oh … and THREE paint jobs over the years.

To say I got my money's worth from this machine would be an understatement. So too would be saying I LOVE this bike. But as a circa 1977 frame, the "5-speed freewheel" standard has long been obsolete so keeping the bike rolling was achieved by converting it over to a single-speed. And Old Blue has really shined in that regard. In fact, it completed TWO Southern Tier gigs as a single-speed (San Diego California to St. Augustine Florida), not to mention a whole bunch of fun solo and club rides, endurance events, as well as many, many self-contained tours for which it was designed.. The latest tweak was installing a double chainring crank with a front derailleur making it a "2-speed" … sorta. It's more technically a "4-speed" since the rear wheel is a flip-flop, meaning a single cog freewheel on BOTH sides of the hub … a 17 tooth on one side and a 22 tooth on the other. To shift THOSE gears, I need to stop, drop the wheel out, flip it, and chain it up again. Kinky, 'eh?

But it all works, and today, it worked like a dream. Shooting for a century closer to home, I dreamed up a route that sorta loops around the city/county and touches some places I haven't been in a while.
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The day started sunny, clouded over, got humid, got warmer, and got sunny and dry again all within the under 8 hours it took to march through 102 miles and getting home surprisingly early. My total "stopped" time was a mere 23 minutes … just enough for two stops … one at 51 miles to wolf down a PB&J, and another for a coke and a taquito. (I do have my habits.) Little of the ride was anything special or notable, but I do have to wonder if I'm the only person who thinks the bike trail along the Lake Ontario State Parkway could use a better name than "LOSP Trail".

Century #6, and cracked the three thousand mile mark for 2020 today … I'm on a roll!

Rubber Side Down.

Looking for a "moderate" century (#5) to a new(er) destination, I remembered that I haven't been down to Springwater in a while, and THAT triggered a memory. "Long-Time" members of the club (aka: Us Old Farts) will remember Al Davis; Al was the author of a plethora of new RBC maps and he had a penchant to inject notable details into his creations. In particular, he had a pair of century rides that were less than intuitive (intentionally) in their names. For example, one might think something called the Mendon Century (RBC#151) would likely be yet another Mendon area ride swirling around the Mendon Park area with a bunch of rolling hills. But noooo …. THIS little Mendon ride only —> starts <— at the park, yet heads south to Naples and accumulates nearly 9000' of climbing. And, if that doesn't quite fill your day, the optional "G" route heads to Springwater and delivers a total of 127 miles and 12,000' of heart attack level climbing.

But, shouldn't that be named "Springwater Century"?  No, of course not. This is an Al Davis Ride. It starts in Mendon … so … Mendon Century. Simple.

OTOH … Al's "Springwater Century" is almost as confusing. You'd be forgiven for assuming that anything going to Springwater would be a real death march of a ride, seeing that Springwater is deep in the hills south of Hemlock Lake. And just because the Mendon Century starts in Mendon, that doesn't mean the Springwater Century has to start in Springwater.

​Confused yet?

​Strangely enough, this route messes around in the gently flat to rolling Genesee River Valley for over 40 miles before it even begins any noticeable climbing. But eventually, it does start climbing. The worst kind, as I seem to have forgotten. Not the extreme steep stuff (like, the Mendon Century), but the same long steady grind right into the predictable headwinds up Livonia Center, Federal and Stagecoach roads like I did on my century to Dansville a few weeks back. Again? Lack of planning again?

Short memory. Once again, I took a recovery break at Wester's Country Store in Conesus for pizza and chocolate milk. Still need fuel to finish up with Stagecoach and Liberty Pole Roads ahead, but other than that, there's only one short steep climb on Johnson Hill Road up to Canadice Lake Road …

…  and then it's a breeze of a ride after that all the way back to Rochester. My adaptation of the ride added some miles as I rode from home in the morning to a spot to intercept the route heading out, and a place to break off upon return home. All total, I scored 112 miles and under 5000' of climbing, making this century very doable. Back in town by 3:30pm, I had enough juice left for heading out at 7:00pm with Karen to add on another slow and easy 9 miles. We did our own "Ride of Silence" since the real event had to be cancelled due to the pandemic. Maybe next year, we'll be on again.

With the Springwater Century completed, I guess I have to do it's "pair" sometime soon.

Sunday, May 17, 2020

Having learned my lesson on Thursday (and how many times do I need to learn this lesson?), I closely inspected the weather reports on Saturday night and determined it was pretty safe to squeeze in another century on Sunday … with limitations. Most of Sunday should be good, but a blob of green on the radar was expected to appear in the area around 5:00pm, so an early start would be advised. I'm a fair weather rider (except if it's freezing cold, windy and snowin' like hell … THAT's fun!), and not fond of rain when it's below 60 degrees. And 60 was about the tops forecasted for Sunday.

Regular routine Saturday night. Prep the bike, get the kit picked out, etc, etc … and get to bed early. Well, no … PBS had a Moody Blues concert on at 10:00pm … so much for enough sleep. No matter. I plotted a reasonably flat to rolling route that I sorta stuck to, and I had an optional section in it to cut out if I figured I had to cut short if threatened by rain. The route was a mod of my annual Sodus Bay ride. For many years, I've liked to take at least one nice ride out to the beach at Sodus to grab an italian sausage with onions and peppers and meat sauce, of course! From the days when I lived in Webster, that was typically a 60 mile out and back. Make that 80 miles since moving into the city of Rochester. But now, I'm looking at a loop with an optional spur to Chimney Bluffs. I ended up cutting the spur because it's pretty certain I'll get out that way another time this summer anyway. Karen Loves That Ride, so I'll save that to share later.

But cutting was a good move anyway as I made it home less than an hour before the rain started. Whew!

Heading out at 6am again, on a Sunday, during the Covid shutdown, the roads were all mine. The Lake Road (aka: the Seaway Trail) is pretty quiet normally, but almost abandoned now. On the way out, I started to get "distracted". (No discipline!) I noticed a dirt road on my map that looked like it looped out to the shoreline and back to Lake Road on another dirt road. I'm on the "right bike" for that! Turns out, it dead-ended at a fancy lakeside property, so I had to turn back. Too bad … it could have led to a whole day of exploring.

By the time I reached the Sodus lighthouse …

​… I had 40 miles of generally flat cruising … but no italian sausage! The beachside food stand was closed, but I expected that. It was early and still a bit cool, but likely closed by current issues anyway. And the rest of town, sans the c-store and Captain Jacks bar was all shut down too. I paused to consider the open door at Captain Jacks. My buddy Dave and I stopped in there for lunch while out motorcycling a couple years ago, and like many others, I'd guess the place is struggling now. I considered stopping to "provide support" (beer and burger) but at 9:30am on a Sunday, it was more likely they were just airing out and cleaning in hopes of a survivable day ahead. Best wishes gang … another time. I stopped at the c-store for a coffee and quickly hit the road for the hills!

By "hills", I mean the drumlins of Wayne County. One might assume that the landscapes near Lake Ontario would be pretty flat, but there was this "event" many kiloyears ago that not only created our gorgeous (gorges!) Finger Lakes, but was also responsible for the unique terrain beginning a few miles south of the lakeshore. The glacial retreat could not have created a better playground for cyclists than the roller-coasters our bike club visits very frequently. Love this stuff!

Sunshine, tailwinds and wild whoop-de-doos make for one really sweet day of riding. At one point, I even thought I was going to get in some fun exploring when I took a turn at a road marked with my favorite sign …
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… but alas … it was just another example of human encroachment over what in years past was a network of old dirt farm country roads. What has been dirt adventures in the past are now often paved over for some "practical" reasons I'll never appreciate. But the drumlins are not easily scoured away so the riding was smooth, and a constant affirmation that the super-wide ratios of my bike's Pinion gearbox are an asset even with a bit of added weight. 
​

Out in the country where I rarely meet anyone, I'm OK about going naked, but around the trails which have become more popular than before, I'm now pretty disciplined about staying covered up. As the trails get even more popular, I'm spending less time there. Imagine … feeling safer out on busy highways than your local bike trail.

Perhaps, someday, this may pass.