June 19

I've been saving this story throughout the entire trip, waiting for the right time to share it. I decided while out on my bike today that this would be the time.

You may have noticed from a couple earlier posts that music matters a lot to me. I find meaning in lyrics of songs and hold on to them to help me get through things. I have one song, in particular, that helped me make this trip a reality, and it has kept me going when I've been down and needed a boost. I've played it from my phone attached to my handlebars as I've been going down the road, and I've turned it up in my hotel rooms on mornings when I've been dragging and looking for something to get me going.

It's Steve Winwood's "While You See a Chance."

Just a few months before April 1, the date I assigned for the start of this journey, I was spending hours working out the logistics: daily mileage, hotel reservations, equipment purchases . . . I was deep into all the details. What I wasn't spending time on — as Susan frequently reminded me — was getting out on my bike to get myself in shape. 

I had even gotten into a strange routine. I repeated it several times. After getting up in the morning, I would tell Susan I was going out for a ride. I would then take forever to get ready. While I put on my cycling clothes, filled my water bottles, made sure my devices were charged, etc., I would find ways to procrastinate. This and that needed to be done before I could leave. Eventually, I would get to the garage, where I would open the door, look at my bike . . . and decide that today was not the day. It had gotten too hot. The wind was coming up. I was starting too late to be able to do a good, long ride before having to be back for some other commitment. I had all sorts of excuses. I'd close the garage door, head back to the house, and tell Susan that this day would not be the day.

One morning broke that cycle.

When I opened the garage door, I happened to launch iTunes on my phone and hit the "Shuffle" button. I was standing there, about ready to back out of another ride, when "While You See a Chance" started playing. The lyrics seemed to be written for somebody in my situation — somebody with a big dream who is holding back from living it.

And there were other lines in which I found personal meaning:

When the song finished that morning, I was out of excuses. I got on my bike and went for a ride.

Take a few minutes to have a listen:

I don't know if I would be sitting in Little Falls, New York, right now if it weren't for that song. I can only suppose I would have found other motivation to help me keep going. But I have leaned on that tune and those lyrics a lot in the last several weeks.

Today, I didn't need it.

The morning in Sylvan Beach was cool, crisp, clear and windy when I rolled my bike out of my AirBnB cottage shortly after 9 a.m. I turned the pedals a few times and coasted for the couple of blocks to the Circle K store. When I shopped there two days ago, I noticed they sold breakfast sandwiches and breakfast burritos made in the store. I got the Circle K version of an Egg McMuffin, an egg-bean-and-cheese burrito, a glazed donut with chocolate icing (I needed something healthy!) and coffee. I zapped the muffin sandwich and the burrito in the store's microwave and ate everything outside at one of the store's picnic tables.

With a full tank to take me the 57 miles to Little Falls, I pedaled out of Sylvan Beach at about 10 a.m. and immediately enjoyed a strong tailwind. I was riding south, east and to the southeast. The wind was from the west and northwest.

After a few miles on some quiet backroads, Google Maps directed me to a trailhead for the Erie Canalway Trail. Even though it started out as a narrow strip, I was looking forward to getting on  it. I stopped to take a picture.

Just then my phone dinged with an incoming text message. It was Rachel, wishing me a Happy Father's Day with a sweet note that got me choked up. And then four more Father's Day wishes came in from others, all within a few minutes. I was feeling blessed!

While I was standing over my bike, responding to all the greetings, a group of eight cyclists with fully loaded bikes passed me and headed down the trail. I caught up with them a mile or so later. They were young, 20-somethings, headed to Little Falls for the night as well, and using Google Maps for their navigation, so we would be on the same route. We talked for about 10 minutes. They peppered me with all kinds of questions, so much so that I felt I was burning up too much time chatting. I wished them safe travels and pedaled away — and then realized I hadn't asked where they had started and what was their final destination. They did mention that they were taking the Canalway Trail across New York, so maybe I'll see them again down the road.

The rest of the day was mostly a breeze.

For about three miles, the Canalway Trail's path narrowed down to just slightly wider than my tires. My bags were brushing tall weeds on both sides as I pedaled along. At a road crossing I took an option to get on State Route 69, which is also a state-designated bike route. It had a wide shoulder, smooth pavement and light, Sunday traffic. The tailwind that had been softened by the trees along the trail was now in full force, and I was flying — turning my pedals in my bike's two biggest gears.

I was making such good time that I didn't hesitate to turn a short ways off my route when I got to the city of Rome. A good friend from high school, Frank Leone, had mentioned that his wife, Janet, was born and raised there. When I told him I'd be riding through the city today, he asked if I could take some pictures that he could show Janet and her family. I took several of what looked like significant buildings. (I had a feeling about a little Italian restaurant. When Frank saw the picture of it, he was pretty sure he and Janet ate there a couple of times many years ago.) He liked the water-tower shot the best.

Near the village of Oriskany, Google Maps took me back to the Canalway Trail. After the speed I enjoyed on the road, I wasn't sure I wanted to slow down on the trail again. But when I got to the trailhead, the trail was a wide, smooth path of stone dust. After a few miles, as I neared Utica, the trail turned to asphalt. It would be paved for the remaining 25 miles to Little Falls.

Along the way, near the town of Herkimer, I came across this field with the red building off to the right. With the hills in the background, and the day's gorgeous blue sky, it looked picture-worthy.

With the tailwind I was enjoying, the day's ride was amazingly smooth and easy. I rode what ended up being 59 miles without a break, and felt fresh when I pulled up to my hotel at about 3:30 p.m.

Most of the restaurants close to the hotel were closed today. Fortunately, an excellent Neopolitan-style pizza place just a few blocks away was open. I ordered a thin-crust Vesuvius pizza and antipasto salad to go, and brought them back to my room to eat.

Tomorrow, I'm headed to the city of Amsterdam, just 43 miles away. I have a reservation at a castle, the Amsterdam Castle hotel. I hope to get there right around the 2:30 p.m. check-in time and wander around the place a bit. Looks like it will be fun.

Because, you know, while you see a chance, take it!

Contact me: Thoughts or comments? Email me at richardridesusa@gmail.com.

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