The Northern Voyage: The Rainy-Day Picnic

A baby ferret unsuredly stumbles across the paved trail. A chipmunk, munching on an acorn, sees my bicycle at the last minute and lunges into the tall grass. A bright yellow bird plunges inches away from my field of vision, fluttering away in a fury. The location is the Harlem Valley Rail Trail. Once again, an old train railway that's been turned into a pedestrian path.

The day before was a bit of a struggle mentally. Enveloped in that heavy apathetic fog, I decided, hey, I really don't want to write today's blog. An extremely difficult climb today physically, seems to have awakened me mentally.

Yesterday was a pretty great day if biking was taken out of the equation. The boys and I went back to the FDR museum but this time to explore the entire property. Josh's mother was awesome enough to get all of us National Park Passes, which discounts (or makes free) entry to all National places of importance.

In Hyde Park, we actually went inside of Franklin Delano Roosevelt's home. Only those who paid for the tour were allowed in and the guide said 98% of the home was still exactly as it appeared the last time the ex-President was there. I'll leave the rest of this story to the pictures but we were there on the property for about four hours. In summary, Franklin Delano Roosevelt was and is the most important president of the last 100 years, hands down.

Shortly after the museum visit, we began our 30 something mile trek to a campground in Salisbury, CT. It was raining, miserable, and we were at each other's throats. Thankfully, at a road turnoff where I was studying the map; someone pulled onto the road next to us.

"Where you guys headed?" asked the man.

"Maine. Yourself?" I responded, still a bit heated from recent events.

He laughed, "Well, I teach at this school you're standing in front of. My name's Tad."

Tad told us he was housing a pair of cyclists from Florida traveling along the Atlantic Coast.

"Although I'm sure I'll hear it from my wife, you guys are more than welcome to stay at our home tonight."

I struggled to accept the mere couple of miles we'd traveled for the day but I was more than happy we stayed. For starters, Tad's wife Sue was absolutely splendid, cooking up a large portion of baked ziti and serving up all of the nuts, fruits, and vegetables that we could fit into our bellies. She works a night shift at a hospital and was just coming home at 8:30 AM as we were just heading out today. That's one hell of a human.

Sue is originally from New Zealand as her accent testified. Mike noted to her, "I thought it was Australian". No more than five minutes after, we heard the other two cross-country cyclists in the kitchen.

"Is that an Australian accent?" we overheard.

"A lot of people say that. I'm originally from New Zealand" she remarked politely.

If she had a nickel for every time someone's gotten that wrong.

Tad and Sue have a son named Corley who had just finished his first year of college. For almost the whole night, Josh and I played Super Mario Party on Nintendo WII with Corley, sharing laughs all night. The adults stayed in the kitchen, conversing of... adult matters? I'm not entirely sure.

Two of those adults were Deborah and Chamile (surely butchering the name). A couple originally cycling from Florida, they were really encouraging to listen to. They had done the TransAm over the summer the year before, starting out just a week after me. I must've just missed them. The best part of their story was the fact they were riding a tandem bicycle. Two people, one bike. A pretty awesome endeavor.

This morning, Deb and Chamile (sorry) got out of the house about a half-hour or so before us. The first couple miles (as Tad told us but I refused to really believe) actually were fairly difficult, rising and falling with the Appalachia like a roller coaster.

We had a Warm Showers "appointment" set for a place in Barkhamsted but the distance ended up being too much. We all had a pretty lax day. I met up with Deb and Chamila, both complaining of the early climbs so that was encouraging. Josh and Mike traveled together while I largely kept to my own travels. We went through the towns of Salt Point, Millerton, and Amenia in New York. Crossing into Connecticut, we moved through Salisbury, Canaan, and Lakeville.

At the end of the day, we met up in a campground in East Canaan, CT. Yeah, by the way, we did cross into Connecticut today. I'm fairly jumbled from attempting to write about two separate days... and the shock that just occured.

We were relaxing; the beans, tuna, salmon, soup, wine, and whiskey had been consumed. A feast for kings. The final consumptive item was a bit of tea to ease our minds and bodies into sleep. Then, out of nowhere an absolute downpour rained down. We all panicked, running in every direction, trying to cover the clothes, bags, electronics, tents, ect. I hurried inside my tent carrying the important items; whiskey. Inside my tent, Mike cackled, "Ralph, your ipod and charger and everything is out here!"

Once more into the frey.

Finally leaping into my tent and hurriedly shutting the rain canopy, I laid down and listened...

"God help us all!" screamed Josh.

"My tent is soaked! There's no escape!"bellowed Mike.

"It's coming in from all corners! Oh my god!" I shrieked.

Wild, maniacal laughter followed.

"This is awful but I can't stop laughing", howled Josh.

"We're all gonna die!" I yelled.

I stuffed my socks in one corner, my underwear in another, a shirt in one, and laid naked, glancing every now again to see if rain had accumulated. And here I wait. It sounds like Mike may have to share Josh's tent. With no cushion or tarp to separate him from the earth, he's going to have the worst time.

Good Luck Heench... God be with us all.

FDR and Eleanor are buried here on the grounds.

The house.

FDR's childhood room.

FDR's adult room. Unfortunately, after he was diagnosed with infantile paralysis at the age of forty, him and Eleanor no longer shared the same room or bed.

FDR's custom hotrod, made so that he could control it with his hands

Today, I came to this stop sign as a crow was picking at an empty bag of chips. Almost noticing me watching, it dove into the shade as I attempted to snap a picture. The crow, one of if not the most intelligent bird on earth, waited. After about five minutes, I impatiently went to snap the picture without it there. My plan was to describe its witted behavior without it in the frame. However, as I went to take the picture, it flew back into focus, snapping at the empty bag. Google more information about crows. I'm telling you, they're going to be one of the most developed and evolved birds thousands of years from now.