Day 77: Salmon, Turkey, Wildcat, Moose, Pig

Day 77:  Thursday August 21st, 2014.
Pulaski, NY to Old Forge, NY.  84.6 miles.

I slept in a little to give my body a chance to fight off the cold.  It turned out to be a good thing, as there was a fairly strong band of rain moving through for about an hour in the morning while I was getting ready to leave.  By the time I was ready to go, the rain was not as intense.

I made my way over to the market to buy some fruit and other things for lunch.  While in town, I noticed that Pulaski was big on tourism focused towards fishermen.  The Salmon River flows right through town, and there are several lodges that offer accommodations in the evening and drift-boat fishing excursions during the day.  There were also a lot of bait shops around town.

I headed out on what would be another wet day.  The moderate elevation gains of yesterday would pale in comparison to the almost 5,000 feet of climbing that I would be faced with today as I headed into the Adirondacks.  The climbs, while shorter, but more numerous, reminded me of riding through the Rockies in Idaho and Western Montana.

Along the way, I was reminded that this was Amish country by way of a road sign warning drivers to keep an eye out for slow-moving horse-drawn buggys.

I passed a few small dairy operations.  One of them had a storefront where they sold cheese.  I was disappointed to find out that it was closed.

I passed through the town of Redfield, with a historical marker indcating that the first settlement here occurred around the late 1700's.  Alongside the town, a large lake owing it's existence to a dam built along the Salmon River.  The reservoir is appropriately named the Salmon River Reservoir.

After much climbing, I made a descent into Boonville.  Just before entering town, a large gathering of wild turkeys crossing the road caught my attention.  They weren't stubborn, intending to hold their ground like the Canadian geese I ran into before.  These turkeys were on the move well before I was close to them.

I passed through a residential neighborhood of Boonville as I made my way to the city center.  In one yard, I spotted a hand-written sign that read, "Maple Syrup - $40/gal".  Oh man did I want to stop and buy some.  But, there was no way I was going to load a gallon of maple syrup onto my bike.  I imagined knocking on the guy's door with a plate of pancakes in my hand, wondering if he would sell me a slightly lesser quantity, like maybe just what I needed for my steaming hot pile of pancakes that I just so happened to have with me when I showed up at his doorstep.  I then thought about how expensive it would be to ship a gallon home.  I was thinking about all of this long after I had passed the house, of course.

I ate lunch at a great little family-owned diner just off the city square.  The food was good, and the people were really nice.  I mentioned to the waitress that I was going to try and make it to the town of Old Forge by this evening.  She, along with another customer, spoke of the impending rain, and of the fairly steep climb up to the town.  But, they also mentioned that it really was a beautiful place.  One guy at the counter tried to give me different directions than what was on my map.  I listened and thanked him, but stuck with the bicycle map I've come to rely upon.

Heading out of the diner, I checked the weather radar after seeing a few dark cumulonimbus clouds in the distance in several directions.  On radar, there were several significant thunderstorms surrounding me.  But, it looked as though the direction I was headed was not being affected by those storms at the moment. I had some concern about forging ahead, but decided to move on with caution, keeping an eye on the sky condition.  Since I left Pulaski, I have had "No Service" on my cell phone, and can only access data while in a location with a WiFi signal.

Out of town, I continued to descend downward until I reached the Black River after about 3.5 miles of fast pedaling.  I noticed a sign in the last mile that read, "Bridge Closed Ahead".  I wasn't sure what to do with that information, so I just kept pedaling all the way to the river.  After all, I didn't want to just turn around and have to ride 2.5 miles back uphill to find an alternate route.  I was already committed.

I spotted a detour sign at a crossroad, just before a road block, with the bridge site visible in the distance.  It didn't look good, but I had to work my way around the barracade to see if it would be possible to navigate around the construction.  Apparently, the "bridge is closed" because there isn't one.

Navigating around the construction would require that I forge through a rushing river with my bike and gear.  That wasn't going to happen.  And, there was no other way to get across through the construction mess.  So, I crossed back over the road block and followed the detour sign for what would turn out to be an extra six miles of riding.  Frustrated, I decided to see if there were any roads off the detour route (Moose River Road) that could save me some time.  I found one, just short of Moose River Road, called Wildcat Road, that looked as though it could save me a few minutes.  

Sometimes, detour routes avoid small roads that would impact residential neighborhoods or be too small for trucks.  So, I thought that Wildcat Road was probably not used for that reason.  I turned onto it and started climbing steeply.  It seemed to be just fine.  The road was recently paved, and with almost no traffic.  I really had to work at climbing what seemed like a continuous ascent, with varying degrees of steepness.  Then, I rounded a corner and noticed dirt on the road up ahead.  As I moved closer, I realized that actually, the road was suddenly changing to dirt.

And, it was the steepest segment by far.  I really had to work at keeping my momentum going, as the somewhat soft dirt did not provide much grip.  Fortunately, it wasn't raining at this point in time, so the road wasn't muddy.

In what seemed like a long time, I finally made the connection with the original Moose River Road that I was detoured away from.  After riding on it for a short while, the road met up with the Moose River.  It was gorgeous.  There were rocks and trees and moss and fern.  It made me yearn for the mountains of the West- that which I had taken for granted, as it was such commonplace for so many days of riding in the Western U.S.  But here, I was experiencing it all over again.

I finally made it to Old Forge, managing to avoid most of the rain, with severe storms looming in several directions in the distance.  As I rode through the main thoroughfare, I could tell that this was a touristy town, with lots of souvenier shops, kayaking outfitters, restaurants, etc.  It looked like a fun place.

I was making my way to a KOA campground that was on the East end of town.  I arrived out in front of a big water park, and stopped on the sidewalk to look up more details about where I might find the campground.  While looking at my map, I noticed a man crossing the street, then heading down the sidewalk in my direction.  I didn't look up, as I was tired and wanted to focus on getting settled in for the night.  But, he walked right up to me, held his hand out for a handshake, and said, "Hi - my name is Ryan!"

I shook his hand and replied, telling him my name.  He then proceeded to tell me that he spotted me from across the street, that he and his wife have let cyclists stay at their house before, and while they are not on WarmShowers.org, they would be happy to host me for the evening if I was looking for a place to stay.  I told him that I was actually looking for the KOA campground.  He went on to say that his wife Catherine works there, and that it's just around the corner.  But, he encouraged me to stay with them.  Knowing that I could not put off doing laundry for one more day, I asked him before committing if he knew of a laundromat in town.  He said, "We have a washer/dryer at our house that you can use, along with a bed, shower, and WiFi."  I replied, "Well, why not!  That sounds great!"

Then, Catherine came across the street and met me as well.  She gave me directions to their house, about a mile down the road.  I was still somewhat in disbelief that Ryan would go out of his way, running across the street to stop me and offer their hospitality.  It was such a great act of human kindness.

The room they had for me was very nice, with a comfortable bed and it's own private bathroom next to the laundry room.  They went upstairs to eat their dinner while I got situated.  But, a few minutes later, Ryan came down with a plate of food and a beer for me.  The bbq pork sandwich was so good it paralyzed me from doing anything else until it was gone.  

I sat and chatted with them for some time.  They were such good people, I didn't want my stay to be so short.  But, we exchanged information so that hopefully Victoria and I can return the favor for them if they come visit us in San Diego in the future.