West Vermont (S36O) - Day 2

The night was cold and at first I didn't want to leave my sleeping bag. But once I got up, I realized that I was actually warmer when packing up the tent than lying in the bag. This gave me some extra motivation to get going.

Once everything was packed up, I made a quick meal. Some instant oatmeal always works well for me. And since this was the first field test of my alcohol stove, I must say I was quite impressed. This thing is tiny and weighs little, boils a cup of water in about 4 minutes and is completely silent.
 

I left the campsite at 8:30am, which is quite late by my standards, and rode west, towards Poultney. This place used to be a college town but after closing of Green Mountain College earlier this year, it's probably a bit quieter right now.

Green Mountain College, Main Hall

I kept going west and soon I left Vermont, entering New York and the town of Whitehall. I noticed a small number of Shaker homesteads on both sides of Route 18. It's always nice seeing these people on road, riding their horse-drawn wagons. Unlike speeding drivers, they always wave their hands, saying hello. Somehow I feel that the slow way of traveling by bicycle is in some sense compatible with their slow way of life.

Whitehall, NY

From Whitehall, I made my way north to cross a small bridge and enter Vermont again. My goal was to ride several miles along Poultney River by means of Bay Rd. I discovered this place by accident while browsing Google Maps. It turns out that the full length of Bay Rd has a Street View available so you can take a look and see what it looks like.

The first (southern) section of Bay Rd was muddy but didn't look too bad.

And it looks great. Well, actually, it looked great... back in 2012. The one thing I didn't realize soon enough was that Street View was dated 2012 and apparently things have changed quite a bit in the next 7 years. The slow-moving Poultney River is still there, same with thousands of birds and widespread wetlands. What's gone though, is road's sandy surface, now replaced by mud and hundreds of flooded craters.

But the further north I went, the worse it got, being completely flooded, edge-to-edge, in most places.

Essentially, the entire length of Bay Rd, running alongside the river, is a wet mud-bath. There are very few and very short rideable sections. Most of the road is either flooded edge-to-edge or extremely muddy. Not wanting to risk being stuck in the middle of a giant puddle, I decided against riding through the middle of all of it. I had to go around, but the only way around was through the bushes on either side of the road. Unfortunately, these bushes carry thousands of burs - the type of seeds that have hooks. Very quickly my socks, shorts and shirt were completely covered in burs. Not fun!

After a nearly 2-hour-long struggle, I finally go to the end of this mess and the intersection with Cogman Rd. From there, things were much better.

Next, I basically rode straight north, staying as close to Lake Champlain as possible. Things got a bit tricky once Stony Pond Rd turned into Singing Cedars Rd. Technically, these two are not connected and there is a "dead end" sign, warning you that you won't be able to drive through. But being on the bike I learned that "dead ends" can often be ignored.

And I was right. Once I ran out of the "regular" unpaved road, I found a narrow maintenance road through the forest, running under the old power line. It was in a surprisingly decent shape and let me connect with Singing Cedars Rd with ease.

At that point I realized that my breakfast was a long time ago and all that walking through bushes and mud made me very hungry. Fortunately, Buxton's Store in Orwell came to the rescue. Their sandwiches are yummy, although I had to wait much longer for one to be made for me, than it took me to actually eat it.

International Paper Company, as seen across the lake.

Things were going well. My belly was full, my bike was rolling well, shedding off dry mud at higher speed. Views over Lake Champlain and Vermont countryside were spectacular.

A good portion of my route turned out to run where Champlain Bikeway is, but don't be fooled. There is no dedicated bike path there - just a few signs marking it. You still have to share roads with cars.

 

 Lake Champlain Bridge to NY State.

 

As I mentioned earlier, I started my ride a bit late in the day for my standards, which combined with shorter days in late October meant I didn't have much available daylight left. I kept pedaling but decided to skip some places I originally planned on visiting, namely Fort Crown Point, just across the bridge in New York and the D.A.R. State Park nearby.

I arrived at my car just at sunset, around 6:15pm. From there, I still had a long, 3.5hrs drive back to Boston.

The whole mini tour was a great experience as for the first time I had a chance to try something like that late in the season. If only there was more daylight left in the day, you could keep going further and further.

West Vermont (S36O) - Day 1

After my last quick tour through New Hampshire I wanted to rest a little bit from constant climbing and go somewhere flat. So I picked Vermont - the state that is nearly completely covered by hills and mountains. Right...

Actually, I planned my trip through the flattest part of Vermont - the western parts of Addison and Rutland counties, which is a place where Green Mountains end and a wide valley of Poultney River and Lake Champlain begins. Still, as it turned out, some hills were unavoidable but it was nothing, compared to what you would normally find in the other parts of the state.

 

I started my tour at a Park & Ride in Waltham, just south of Vergennes, VT. It was a pretty long drive north from Boston so I started riding quite late, at 11:45am. The day was cloudy and I was a bit worried it would rain a lot, but the little rain I got on the way, stopped before I even got to Waltham.

 

It all started at Route 66. Not that famous one, though...

 

The weather in late October can be somewhat unpredictable, so that adds more complexity to planning of any longer bicycle ride. Despite a cloudy day, it wasn't actually that cold (53F or 12C) but I quickly found out that I either overheat on climbs or get cold from wind chill on descents. Seems like no matter what you do, it's never right.

 

I think I matched the environment quite well.

I sort of regretted that I didn't have time to make this ride happen a bit earlier in the season. Clearly, foliage was past its peak colors but there were still plenty of red, yellow and orange hues around.

Because it was only a quick, sub-36hrs trip, I didn't need to pack much, yet at the same time, colder weather required me to bring some extra clothes. I managed to fit everything in the handlebar bag and two fork-leg-mounted sacks. Also, for the first time, I packed a mini cooking set with alcohol stove. I figured that since the night is going to be cold, it would be nice to make a simple hot breakfast next morning.

I kept rolling through the countryside, passing by numerous farms on the way, counting different types of cows I encountered and photographing grain silos.

Farms. Farms everywhere...

 

Twin towers of Vermont.

Finally, I arrived in East Poultney, quickly resupplied at the local store and headed to Analog Cycles, where I arranged earlier to stay for the night. I covered 60mi (95km) on day 1, which normally wouldn't be that much, but since I started late, I arrived at my campsite after sunset. Considering shorter days in late October, I think the next time I would rather pick a shorter route and start from a Park & Ride location closer to my final destination.

General Store, East Poultney, VT.

I admit, I have never camped out that late in the season. I expected air temperature to drop rapidly at night so I had to apply all common sense to survive. That included:

1. putting all clothes on, including the woolen hat,
2. placing all leftover clothes inside the sleeping bag to keep them warm through the night,
3. doing the same with phone and all batteries to protect them from cold.

It worked. I survived and all electronics made it as well, even though temperature at 7am was only 30F (-1C). However, the next time I would seriously have to consider a better sleeping bag. The one I had was technically rated to 35F but let's just say it was barely adequate at 30F. Certainly, I wasn't cozy warm during the morning hours.

Continue to Day 2.

Summer time in the fall - Upper Charles River Trail and Milford/Hopkinton area

What is your favorite month of the year and why is it October?

Living in Boston, I quickly learned to appreciate the two months in the year when it's absolutely mandatory to spend as much time outdoors as possible. In fact, I even question why would anyone take time off in July, when it's clearly better to stay in the climate-controlled office. It's not July but September and October that are the ones to enjoy.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with weather in Boston (or on East Coast in general), it typically looks like this:

• January, February - freezing down to -2F (-20C) or lower, lots of snow
• March - freezing at night/morning, melting in the day = ice everywhere
• April, May - warmer but tons of pollen in the air
• June, July - hot and very humid, frequent heavy thunderstorms
• August - still too hot and humid
• September, October - warm, dry, little rain, just perfect
• November, December - chilly and rainy, gets dark quickly

To use this rare, good weather, I managed to sneak out last Sunday on a ride around Milton/Hopkinton area. I started in Ashland and quickly merged with the Upper Charles River Rail Trail in Holliston, which I have never visited before. The trail is nice but it's so perfectly graded that it could be easily crossed on a road bike with skinny tires. At least it's unpaved, so it has that "close-to-nature" feeling.

 

The trail ended in Milford where I soon entered town forest, which turned out to be the test ground for local MTB riders. I did a wide loop around this area and soon crossed I-495 to find my way to the Peppercorn Hill Conservation Area.

The next section was running under a high-voltage power line. These places are typically pretty rough to ride. Sometimes you may find a truck load of chunky gravel or a very overgrown footpath. The trail I found was clearly used by ATVs and had deep tire tracks cut into the mud. These tracks were well covered with tall grass so I often had no idea where my front wheel was going. I had to proceed slowly, not wanting to fly over the bars.

On top of that I discovered multiple warning signs to watch for bees, wasps or hornets...

... and moments later I discovered a large hive, size of a watermelon.

Soon enough, I reached Upton State Forest and then Whitehall Reservoir. There is narrow path around the reservoir, which I thought would be a good unpaved trail to ride. Unfortunately, it turned out to be full of roots and generally inaccessible for bicycles.

From there I had to make my way to Hopkinton State Park and Ashland State Park. Both are nice, but more appropriate for beachgoers or Sunday grill parties than bike riding.

That's about it. How was your Sunday?

Keep riding or die trying

Summer is over, cooler days are here and at least for me, it's the most enjoyable time of the year to spend outside and ride bike. Unfortunately, my usual day job is keeping me very busy and my kids are back in school. All this means I had little time recently to get back to my regular blog posts.

 
Anyway, just recently I read a report that "cyclist fatalities have gone up 25 percent across the U.S. since 2010". And "75 percent of these cyclist deaths occur in urban areas", with New York City leading this grim statistics. The major cause of these fatalities are crashes with motor vehicles and that's not surprising since U.S. cities are the "car-friendly death traps".

You would hope that in such case our Departments of Transportation and urban planners would join forces to build a better, safer cycling infrastructure. Unfortunately, after decades of neglect and catering mainly to motorists, there's very little chance for that.

"The future is four wheels, cyclists be damned", writes Jacob Bacharach in his The Outline article. Our cities were basically designed for cars, we prioritize cars and any other mode of transport than driving isn't simply taken seriously, being considered eccentric, at best.

As such, cars became something more than just 4 wheels that take us to destinations:

"The car is a very specifically American symbol of freedom, but like so many instruments and symbols of American freedom, it is a tool of domination and control. A car is a missile and a castle, a self-propelled, multi-ton fortress, hermetically sealed against the intrusions of weather, environment, and, of course, other people. Drivers view the world through the lenses of speed and convenience — most of the anger at cyclists, in my experience, is at having to drive at something resembling a normal urban speed limit because there’s a bike in front of them — but also through the lens of ownership. Streets belong to cars. The rest of us are interlopers, invaders, invasive species."

All this has a sad consequence of treating nearly 40,000 deaths on U.S. roads annually as collateral damage - just a price we need to pay for this "freedom". Almost like, in similar fashion, many agree that deaths in mass shootings are an acceptable price to pay for freedom to own guns.

Of course, there are voices of reason (Michelle Wu from Boston City Council deserves a honorable mention here), coming from people who want to change this tragic status quo. But too often, these voices are silenced by a very loud NIMBY opposition - people who seem to enjoy protesting anything that could cause them a minor inconvenience, in order to make sure life of others won't get any better.

Reading about such situations really makes me think thank God, cars didn't exist when the Founding Fathers wrote the Constitution. Because if driving and free parking were a right, the way owning a firearm is, this country would be completely screwed.
 

I still have a glimmer of hope though and I hope the tone America's car problem is often reported would change. Unfortunately, blaming the victim and not even mentioning the driver is now the default. We had an example of this recently, when ABC7NY reported the "accident" in which 10-year old Enzo Farachio was killed in Brooklyn/NYC. Apparently, in NYC cars already drive themselves:

 

On top of that, the initial reporting stated that “police believe Farachio was looking at his phone and did not see the vehicle coming”, implying that it was boy's responsibility to avoid the crash, even though at that time he was standing on the sidewalk, where cars should certainly never drive.

Still, our car culture is so deeply-rooted that when a cyclist kills a pedestrian, we see articles like this one from New York Post:

The author mentions that since 2011 7 pedestrians have been killed by cyclists in NYC and presents this as a major issue, conveniently not mentioning that in the same time frame there were thousands of people killed by drivers. But I guess since "accidents happen", being killed by a driver is something perfectly normal and totally acceptable in this country.

 

I know that some of you may think that many of these cyclists are scofflaws, running red lights, not paying attention and were simply asking for it. However, even when a cyclist obeys the law, he/she may still end up dead because some idiot driver decides to drive way too fast - an example of which we got recently in yet another Brooklyn crash.

Sometimes I seriously think that the sooner we transition to autonomous vehicles the better. Even though AVs certainly won't solve all problems, they may help at least reducing number of these fatal crashes. And you would be able to legally sleep in your car when driving, unlike this guy in Massachusetts.

 

What is truly frustrating that whenever a cyclist dies in America, we keep rejecting proven solutions from European countries and get the same stupid ideas again and again. Case in point - New York City is going into a pointless debate over mandatory cycling helmets.

I honestly don't doubt that Dr. Herrera is an expert in head trauma, but he clearly knows nothing about cycling in the city, transportation and helmets in general. He keeps repeating the same wrong statements, just like those who think they know what they are talking about.
 
Apparently, as the video states, 54% of cyclists killed in 2017 were not wearing helmets and pictures of their crushed bikes were "so awful". This immediately makes me wonder - how many of those cyclists would live if they were wearing a helmet? I suspect not many, since even the best helmet won't save you from being flattened by a heavy SUV.

When asked if mandatory helmets would lead to decreased participation in cycling, Dr. Herrera simply said "I don't think it's the case at all", ignoring all the data we have showing that that's precisely the result and repeating the same, debunked claim that helmets save lives with 80% efficiency.

I wonder if Dr. Herrera is ever going to visit Denmark, Holland or even Germany. He may get into a deep culture shock, being surprised that nearly nobody wears a helmet, yet people don't drop like flies.

It's almost like there's something else that can be done to make our streets safer. Something that doesn't include large, heavy, metal boxes speeding around.

How much does your bike weigh and why it's a lot more than you think?

We, cyclists, love to talk about weight. Not our body weight, of course, but our bikes weight. We obsess about putting together the lightest bicycles, because for some reason it seems to matter a lot.

Now, if you happen to just ride for transport - getting groceries by bike, or dropping kids to school, all this doesn't apply to you. Besides, you're not even a cyclist - you're just a person on a bike.

But if you happen to own a sporty, recreational bike, chances are you want it to be lightweight, because - you know, that's what the pros use!

So how much does your sporty bike weigh?

You may quickly say: "I know exactly! It's 18.5lbs or 8.4kg. I spent months carefully selecting components to make it feather light". Well, I have bad news for you. Your bike is likely a lot heavier than that.

It's all because we rarely ride our bikes "empty". I'm guessing that when you go for a ride you do typically bring a couple of water bottles, your phone, wallet, multitool, pump, spare tube and likely even more stuff. All this adds a lot of weight.

But, does it really matter? I bet it doesn't, unless you are really into racing (but then you don't carry your own pump or spares anyway). Actually, all this weight truly matters in one situation - when you have to carry your bike for quite some time.

My bike itself is not exactly superlight. It's an all steel construction with a rack, dynamo hub, lights, leather saddle, etc. In fact, all 5 bottle/cargo cages, front rack and lights add two and a half pounds alone (1.15kg to be exact).

I also usually carry a lot of stuff on my bike - a canvas handlebar bag with a camera, 1-2 lenses, lock, batteries, snacks, pump, a small saddlebag with tools and spares, 1-3 water bottles, phone, etc.

 
All this adds up to 40lbs or 18kg (in a very minimal configuration). I admit, at first I was worried - that's a lot of weight! Maybe my bike is too heavy? But then I realized that having a bike that's not the lightest of the lightest is actually liberating. I simply care less of what I carry on my bike or what components I use. Had I used a true weight-weenie bicycle, I would likely constantly think: "Is this going to add too much weight?"

But as it is, that 40lbs rides surprisingly well. As such, it doesn't bother me much.

Cardigan Mountain and Northern Rail Trail (S36O) - Day 2

Read Part 1 first.

The next day, I got up around 6:15am and was ready to leave the campground at 7. I was a bit more optimistic about that day since I knew it was going to be all downhill (or at least flat) once I cross the Cardigan Mountain. I expected crossing this mountain to be difficult. What I didn't know was the mess I was putting myself into.

It all started easy - Halls Brook Rd from Rumney to North Groton is nicely paved and was actually fun to ride, despite the fact that it was all uphill at a steady 5-8% grade. After reaching North Groton my original plan was to take Edgar Albert Rd, which theoretically (on the map) should connect to Coolidge Rd on the other side of the mountain. But the entrance to Edgar Albert Rd was marked with a dead end sign. Knowing my luck from the day before, I decided it wasn't worth chancing it and I took the main North Groton Rd all the way down to Groton. This was actually fun! It's a 5km (3mi) mad downhill ride that will truly test your brakes.

My decision turned out to be a good one because it meant I had to pass by the Sculptured Rocks - a geological park I have never heard about before. It's a great place to visit. Fascinating how a running water can erode and shape rocks over thousands of years.

The next section of my route was meant to be difficult. It turned out to be a real hell. It all started with a warning just at the entrance to Orange Rd.

To be honest, I didn't even know there were roads categorized as Class 6 so I wasn't sure what to expect, except that it was likely going to be bad. And it was bad - like a very, very rough and rocky, ATV-only trail. I ended up pushing my bike up a lot. Trying to ride up the hill on such surface makes little sense. I would get more tired fighting my way uphill on a bike, than by simply walking.

Then about 2km (1.2mi) up the hill, it got worse. Much worse! There was no road anymore, only an extremely eroded snowmobile trail. I didn't think about taking any pictures of this section, simply trying to finally make it through, but if you can imagine what a snowmobile trail may look like in higher mountains, think of a narrow "road", resembling a small canyon made by running water from melting snow, with millions of boulders thrown all over the place. There was simply no way to ride a bike there - no matter uphill or downhill. I pushed the bike up, carried it wherever required, until after 5km (3mi) of walking I finally reached the summit.

An old stove? Not something you'd expect to find literally in the middle of nowhere in the forest.

I was exhausted. It was still relatively early in the morning, which meant the deep forest was humid. My cap and shirt were completely soaked from sweat. Then out in the open where the air felt a bit drier and I could catch some mild breeze, the sun was scorching my head immediately. The only solution was to keep going and get off this bloody mountain as soon as possible.

Of course, this meant I had to then ride downhill and I was afraid that if my road down looked exactly the same as the road up, I wouldn't be able to ride it at all and will need to now carry my bike for the next 3 miles. Fortunately, and to my pleasant surprise, the road from the summit to the town of Orange was very decent, not counting a few sections damaged by erosion. I made it back to Canaan in no time.

This all means that if you want to visit Cardigan Mountain State Forest, use New Colony Rd from the south and forget about Orange Rd in the north. While it's technically possible to cross the mountain that way (as I did), it's absolutely not worth it.

In Canaan I resupplied again, rested for a while and entered the easiest part of me entire route - the Northern Rail Trail, which stretches all the way from Lebanon to Boscawen (93km or 58mi). Of course, being a former railway, it's all flat. I could finally pick up some speed and keep going.

I have to admit, the trail is really nice. Its surface changes from black gravel to crushed stone to compacted dirt. It's a double track in some places to turn into a single track running through a narrow canyons carved in rocks in others.

I was moving fairly quickly and reached Danbury to stop at their country store for some lunch. One Reuben sandwich later I was back on the road. It started raining lightly but it didn't bother me at all. In fact, that meant the sun stayed behind the clouds and temperature dropped a bit.

After nearly 9hrs I finally reached my car in Boscawen and could pack things up and head back home.

I certainly learned some things on this trip. First, I need to plan my routes differently. Too often I end up in some weird places on snowmobile-only trails that are inaccessible to bicycles at all. Second, I really need to correct for the fact that in a hilly terrain 150km (93mi) in one day is just way too much (and that's what I ended up doing on the first day).

Cardigan Mountain and Northern Rail Trail (S36O) - Day 1

It's really all about time.

Recently, Russ from Path Less Pedaled asked what "What is keeping you from going bike touring?". For me it's time - or the lack of it to be precise. As the owner of two mini humans in a very early school age, I simply can't leave everything behind and go for a bike trip, even a short one. First, I need to negotiate terms with my wife.

Anyway, the rare opportunity happened last Friday so I packed my stuff, put it on the bike and went to New Hampshire for a S36O (sub-36hrs overnight) tour.

I tried a little bit different setup this time. I used a Teardrop canvas bag from Bags By Bird and two Big M.U.T. fork bags from Randi Jo Fab. It worked really well. Those Big M.U.Ts are spacious enough to contain my tent (except the poles), Tyvek foot print, air mattress and the sleeping bag. They also proved to be stable enough to never swivel into the turning wheel, even on the most bumpy roads. The Teardrop kept my camera, tripod, batteries, snacks and other items secure.

I drove up north to Boscawen, NH where I left my car at a Park&Ride lot. This is also the trail head of the Northern Rail Trail that I would be taking on my return the next day - more on that later.

The first miles were easy. I moved quickly and made my way to Contoocook and briefly stopped at the old rail depot. Next, I rode northwest and reached Waterloo Covered Bridge, which reminded me of the time when I visited this place years ago, riding my own Kearsarge Klassic.

Just like years ago, I followed North Rd along Stevens Brook and reached Sutton and then New London. Very soon I discovered that Star Lake Rd is private and what's worse, gated. There was a sign though, stating that bicycling is allowed so I proceed through the automatic gate and kept going. Soon, the road became rough and unpaved, only to soon disappear (sort of).

I made it through and next reached Grafton Pond. At this point it was already afternoon, humid morning air was gone and sun was high up in the sky. It felt way too hot to ride a bike. My water bottles were nearly empty. I reached Canaan and stopped at the convenience store to resupply. Riding in heat and on constantly rolling hills wore me out. I was tired. Little I knew, the worst part was still ahead of me.

My destination for the day was Rumney - a small town just at the edge of White Mountains. Getting there from Canaan is easy - just follow Rt 118 north. But easy wasn't in my dictionary since I wanted to stay off the main, paved roads. So I took Fernwood Farm Rd instead and then tried Bob Porter Rd directing me towards Mascoma River Wildlife Mgt. Area. It all started well - the road was nice and flat...

...but soon turned into a rocky mess.

The worst however was yet to come. First I found a gate with a warning against bears in the area and a "no bicycles" sign. Then, I found out that the section of the road that was supposed to take me north didn't exist in the real life.

I had two choices - keep pushing through what looked like a snowmobile trail, heavily taken over by lots of vegetation or go back. Trying to cross the wildlife management area was not only technically illegal, but also risky - not just because of bears but simply because I had no idea what kind of trails or roads were ahead of me, which meant I could've been stuck there for a long time.

This, and the fact that it was already late in the afternoon and I was tired of riding thousands of hills and the scorching sun, I decided to ride back. For the rest of my ride I stuck to Rt 118 and made my way to Rumney fairly quickly.

I've never been to Rumney before, but I knew there were at least 2 decent-looking camping options nearby: Mountain Pines Campground (conveniently placed right at the bank of Baker River) and Barn Door (a hostel with some camping spots in the backyard). Both were only about $10/night, which meant I was happy to pay the price and have access to a hot shower, rather than try to wild camp somewhere.

Another great thing about Rumney is The Common Cafe and Tavern - great place if you're hungry. They serve good burgers and some great looking pizzas. Live music is a plus too.

When I was done with my dinner it was already dark and it cooled down a lot. I guess I forgot that temperature can drop quite a bit closer to mountains. I felt better after filling my stomach but was ready to call it a day and go to sleep. The next day was supposed to be easier, except the strenuous climb early in the morning, so I needed all my energy back.