Circling the U.S. Chapter 11: Diversions

Day 19: Tuesday, June 25, 2019

Give me rain, give me hills, but please don't give me wind.

We've been told that we're going the wrong way. The prevailing winds go west to east so most people riding across the United States start on the west coast and finish on the east coast. But we wanted to start and end in New Hampshire, where we live, and going counter-clockwise made sense for a lot of reasons. We'd spend the summer along the northern border and winter in the south. The ocean would always be on our right hand side.

This was a day to prepare us for those winds with a headwind that hit us as soon as we got on the trail. It was rough sailing. Even though we were riding on the crushed stone trail that was in great shape, I was working hard to keep up a seven to eight mile per hour pace. Rob was a ways behind. I stopped to let him catch up.

"Try and stay close behind," I said. "Maybe I can pull you." Although I know Rob isn't comfortable riding close enough to draft. I don't really like it either, because when he is too close he can't see holes and obstacles in time to avoid them.

Stopping to watch this barge come down the canal provided a nice distraction from the hard riding.

I said, "Look, there's a tugboat pushing it." Rob said, "No, that's part of the barge."

Yup, it's a tugboat.

Earlier on the trip we saw two barges going through a lock and only one tugboat. We've only seen empty barges.

The riding was challenging, but still lovely.

When we arrived in Gasport, barely ten miles after we'd begun, I stopped.

"I need a break," I said, and walked my bike over to a shady spot in the park next to the lift bridge that crossed the barge canal.

The towers on either side allow people to walk across the canal when the bridge is up.

We stretched out on the grass and ate peanut M&Ms and bananas, while we observed nothing much going on in the canal.

"I prefer rain to wind," I said.

"What about rain and wind together?" Rob asked.

"That would be worse."

Then a boat with four young rowers and a coxswain came down the river, with a pontoon boat filled with other people came close behind.

They came to the bridge and stopped, the rowers struggling to stay balanced.

I looked at the bridge and there wasn't much room under it. Possibly, if they all ducked, the rowers might have made it.

But they would have left their pontoon escort behind.

We chatted a bit and found out that they were rowing the entire canal to raise money for a homeless shelter: http://www.rowforhope.net/home They had called ahead to have the bridge raised, but it appeared that no one was home in the control room.

Rob said, "Do you want me to go see if anyone is there?" He headed over to the control house. Nobody. "Do you want the phone number?" He called it out. And then, just a few minutes later, the bridge started rising.

And the young people were on their way.

If we thought that maybe the wind would die down while we were taking a break, then we were sorely disappointed. It hadn't. "This will get us ready for North Dakota!" I shouted back to Rob.

After several more miles I started getting pissed. I wished that Rob didn't have lung disease so that he could take a turn in front. I'd look down at my odometer. Seven miles per hour. Rob said, "Do you want me to take a turn?"

"No, I'm fine." I figured he wouldn't be able to ride fast enough and I'd just wind up passing him anyway. I wasn't pissed at Rob, I was pissed at the situation. I finally gave in and Rob pulled for the last couple miles into the small city of Lockport.

From our Erie Canal bike trail guide:
Lockport derives its name from the locks that were built to partially overcome the 70-foot difference in elevation as the canal crosses the Niaara Escarpment, a massive geological formation of sedimentary rock cliffs running in a northern arc around Lakes Huron and Michigan to Wisconsin. Niagara Falls is a result of the water from Lake Erie spilling over the Escarpment on its way to Lake Ontario.

In Lockport, one of two original sets of five-step locks built in 1825 stands alongside a modern working doulbe canal lock, making for a great comparison of two centuries of canal engineering. Commercial boat rides enable visitors to "lock through" these engineering marvels.

Looking upstream into the modern barge canal double lock system. This was certainly taller than any of the others we'd seen.

The bike trail took us directly to the bottom of the two sets of locks. We didn't go into the city, just explored the lock system. We happily watched a boat going through the double lock.

They'll operate the lock for a single boat. Notice how someone on the boat holds a line attached to the wall of the lock.

Going down.

The gates open up to let the boat into the second lock where the water is now the same level as the first one.

The boat we just saw will now go through the process again, being lowered to the level of the canal below.

Part of the old set of 5 locks. According to one of the historical signs, the discipline of civil engineering originated in the United States with the construction of the Erie Canal and the Flight of Five locks in Lockport.

Sadly, even after our Lockport diversion the wind still hadn't been turned off. We left the bike trail to go to Lewiston where a family friend of a close friend of ours lived. After another ten miles, with about ten to go, I saw a winery. We needed a rest.

The Honeymoon Trail Winery. 

We tried two reds and two whites, including a sweet red and a sweet white. The sweet white suited our budget and seemed an appropriate gift for the gentleman who was hosting us for the next two nights. We all enjoyed it over the salmon dinner Rob cooked that evening.

We'll remember this day as a challenging ride, but well worth it for the pleasurable diversions along the way. Without the wind we likely would not have stopped in Gasport and would have missed the lift bridge adventure. And we might not have stopped at the winery either. (Although Rob whines every time we pass a winery.)