Tuesday, December 6, 2011

The Wrap Up - Part 1

The Great American Rideabout ended on June 22nd, 2011. There is no good reason for not writing this entry sooner than December 6th, but here it is. We left off in upstate New York, somewhere not too far east of Syracuse.
We found a pretty great campgroud to stay at, where we had our pick of what seemed like hundreds of nicely spaced and nice and grassy lots. Paul and I did our usual reconnoiter to check out the most hammock friendly sites, and found plenty of contenders. We settled on a big lot with no immediate neighbors. The bathroom hut (with proper running water) was close enough to be convenient, but not so close that it was noticeable. It was warm and grassy enough that I could enjoy a lovely lay-down in the grass while I called Andrea and let our hot water for dinner boil. What I didn't notice at the time, however, were the tiny biting flies. They don't hurt when they get you, but they leave a potent red itchy bite behind, and they like to travel in large numbers. These bites would be me companions until about a week after the rideabout ended.
Setting off the next morning, we resumed our eastward course toward none of than Massachusetts! New York provided us with a great ride on a cool sunny road cutting a swath through the woods toward home. Rt. 20 was just right. Not a boring highway, but not a wandering back road either. Light on strip malls, and heavy on small town centers. It was the kind of road we had in mind for this trip from the outset.



We were making great time that day, thanks in part to camping a little further east than planned the night before. We whizzed by the Petrified Creatures Museum of Natural History. Just look at this sign and tell me you wouldn't stop.



So, we turned our bikes around and went back to check it out. Of course, you enter into a gift shop filled with Chinese crap. Mostly dinosaur and fossil related. The owner of the place was behind the counter and she was apparently looking for a lengthy conversation, but that was OK. We were doing good on time and she was perfectly pleasant. But, the price of admission was too high for what appeared to be someone's back yard filled with home made dino-statues. I don't mean to sound like a snob, but at this point we've seen a lot of impressive dinosaur statues, and I don't think what we saw through the fence would stack up. So, we got back onto our bikes, legs slightly refreshed, and set a course for Nassau, New York!
What's in Nassau? There is an abandoned barn there, and if you drive by in the right lighting, you can see hundreds of reflective little cat eyes looking out at you. But more importantly, our friends Skippy and Jill live there, and it's on our way to our final destination for the night. It was sort of surreal pulling into their drive way, early in the evening, like I have done many times before. Jill made us dinner and cookies and Skippy shuffled around in his slippers like the old man that he is. It was a great time with old friends. Even though the end of the trip wasn't far ahead of us, it felt like a needed moment of home and familiarity.


This is Jill and Skippy at my wedding months later. See, Skippy's not really an old man.

We couldn't stay that long though, because we had one more stop before we were through for the day. Continuing east, we headed for Pittsfield, Massachusetts. Pittsfield is what passes for the big city around the Berkshires, and I know it well. It's not far from where I went to college in North Adams, and our home for the night is a house I've slept at many many times.
Rick Derby and his family Sandy and Kemly are long time friends of mine. Rick produces a documentary film I have been shooting with him for what seems like forever. Many many years. The shoots are usually around the Berkshires and southern Vermont, so his house in Pittsfield is like the film's headquarters. This time, though, no one was home but me and Paul. That night I slept in a familiar bed in a familiar house after visiting friends from college, but I still had a long way to go before I was home.

No comments:

Post a Comment