I've hit 20 states!

Well, I left the last post in Middletown, NY. That morning I got up to continue my trek east, and it was clear and sunny. For a while. It was very strange. The sun was out and shining, then I passed through a wooded area that was less than a mile long, and when I came out on the other side, I think the visibility was less than a half mile due to very thick fog. It stayed like that the whole way through this river valley that I was following. I hate riding in fog. I can't wear my glasses or sunglasses because they fog up instantly and stay that way, visibility is low so I'm paranoid, and humidity is at 100%, so I am soaked in minutes with perspiration.

As I was following this river valley, I came around a corner and saw a deer standing in the middle of the road. I was able to snap a picture of it before a car came by and scared it away (sorry, pictures to come later, crunched for time). As I pedaled past where the deer had been standing, I looked to my right where the deer had bounded up the hill, and it was still standing there, maybe 40ft away. I stopped, got out my camera, and the thing just kept looking at me. There was a small tree in it's line of sight, so it kept bobbing it's head back and forth around the tree to figure out what the heck I was doing. I got a couple more pictures of the thing, all the while thinking about how I need to get a hunting license in the state of New York if this is how the deer behave.

As I continued on, the terrain just continued to roll up and down all day. None of the hills are worth mentioning on their own, but collectively they were enough to basically demoralize me at how slow my pace was going, and I didn't even have any mountains to blame.

Eventually I crossed into Connecticut, but I hadn't planned ahead very well as to where I would rest for the night. There were not any campgrounds nearby (down south there were RV campgrounds EVERYWHERE), and my GPS was only showing me a couple of bed and breakfasts in the area (which are generally out of my price range). I went to one of the bed and breakfasts to just test the waters, and the woman at the counter said that their nightly rate was $359. That's dumb. I asked if she knew of any more modestly priced lodging available, and she suggested that I call a woman named Marie that lived down the street. Apparently Salisbury, CT, is very close to the Appalachian trail (which I think I've crossed 5 times now), and Marie likes to host hikers for a small fee. Marie is an older woman from northern Italy that loves company. She seems to be loving life, but wishes she were 20 years younger so she could host hikers for another 20 years. This woman is fantastic. I got there and she showed me right in to my room, gave me a cold drink, and said that she was taking a couple of hikers to the laundromat a little later and offered me a ride as well. While our laundry was in, we ate pizza at this awesome little place that was basically connected to the laundromat and chatted about the Appalachian Trail and cycling. Marie hosts so many hikers throughout the season that she wouldn't cook for them, but she said each of us could have 3 eggs, a bagel, a banana, and a glass of orange juice in the morning. She sleeps in. I couldn't have asked for better lodging. Even if the ridiculously overpriced bed and breakfast would have let me stay there for free, I believe Marie's place trumps it.

The next morning I got up a little later than I wanted, but the bed was just too comfortable. I made myself breakfast and chatted with one of the two hikers that had also spent the night. Sidenote: apparently hikers on the A.T. have nicknames they go by. All of them. Cheese and Sticker were the two that stayed at Marie's place that night. Anyway, Sticker was up early with me and he had done some touring himself in the past, so we talked about gear and miles and how much climbing sucks.

When I pulled out of the driveway, I was feeling pretty good. As I rolled on for the day, miles were adding up quickly and I was making good time. Then sometime near 11:00am I hit a little snag. I was just riding along, minding my own business, staying as far right as I deem safe out of respect for the very light traffic on that particular road. The grass in the ditch was pretty tall and had been brushing my right leg most of the morning, but that wasn't a problem. It became a problem when I was glancing down at my map (on top of my handlebar bag) and the grass camouflaged the start of a guard rail. Since I was so far to the right, the guard rail went between my right front bag and my front wheel. This, of course, stopped my bicycle very quickly. I, however, did not stop, and over the handlebars I went. It all happened quite quickly, so I don't know exactly how I managed to get a hand down and sort of turn myself and end up in a seated position looking back at my bike. Somewhere in the process my left knee hit the ground, so now it looks like it's trying to digest a racquetball. That was my only injury, and it's pretty minor. It hasn't had an impact on the riding. My bike is also fine, but the front rack is quite bent. It is functional at the moment, but I should really find a way of getting it bent back into shape. Now if I hit big bumps, my right front bag sort of swings in and rubs my spokes a little, but normal riding is fine. I should also mention, that the first thing I saw when I landed from my trip over the bars was a white car that was close enough that the driver had to have seen me wreck. The jerk didn't even slow down, she just drove right around me and kept on her merry way. As I dusted myself off and wheeled my bike a little further down the road to a safer place to check for damages, I could only think of how mad I was at that person for not stopping. Granted, I ended up walking away, but what if I had been injured or my bike was rendered unrideable? It would have been nice for her to at least shout out the window, "You ok?"

At this point, I realized my day wasn't going to be as long as I had hoped. I adjusted my fender so it wasn't rubbing on the tire and started looking at the route ahead for lodging and a bike shop (with the aid of my sister and her internet connection). I ended up pedaling on without making any major decisions.

I got to the town of Ellington, CT, and figured I should look for a place to crash for the night (Ha, crash. Get it? Whatever). I pulled over and sought aid from my sister and her internet again, and this time I thought I was just on the sidewalk in a residential area, but I was in front of a small business called Thistle Glass Crafts. "Crystals, Minerals, Stone Jewelry, Herbal Products, Books, Labyrinth, Reiki Energy Sessions" is what it says on their business card. I don't know how else to tell you what kind of shop this was. One of the two women in the store came out to see if everything was ok and offered me air conditioning. I took her up on the offer. While we were inside, I told them about the whole trip and why I'm doing it. They got out a box with some rocks in it and told me I should take one. They said that they have healing properties. They also gave me a bar of soap that one of them made. It's the old fashioned stuff made with lye. When they told me that, my mind immediately went to the movie Fight Club, but I thought it inappropriate to bring up. As I was leaving they offered to fill my water bottles, but they didn't do it at the shop. They said that the well water at their house was better. I do have to say that it was a lot better than most of the city water I have drank along the way. While the one was getting the water, the other asked if I was taking donations. I told her that I was encouraging people to donate through the website, as that goes straight to MDS, thus simplifying everything. She said they'd go to the website, but made a cash donation to the "help feed Neal" fund. Now, I don't know what exactly to think about the healing power of rocks or Reiki energy stuff, but I definitely will not forget the generosity and eagerness to help that these two women exuded.

We're supposed to love our neighbor as ourselves. Who was my neighbor today? Certainly not the woman that passed by on the other side of the road. We didn't talk at length about beliefs, but I'm guessing the two women in the crystal shop and I don't have a whole lot in common spiritually, but honestly, who was my neighbor?

From their little shop, I headed up. It was a bit of a climb (for Connecticut standards) to get to Stafford Springs, where I stopped for a pizza. When I left the restaurant, it was raining. I climbed another 600ft or so in the next 6 miles to the top of the ridge and wheeled in to the Ashford Motel. There were flash flood watches for the whole area, so camping seemed like a bad idea.

When I got up this morning, my stuff was still wet, including my shoes. I had dry cycling gear to wear, of course, but putting on wet shoes in the morning just isn't fun. When I got out the door, it was still drizzling, so the rest of me got wet anyway. It was hard to get motivated out of the hotel room, especially with the rain. I continued through Connecticut, up in to Massachusets, back into Connecticut, into Rhode Island, back north into Massachusets, and eventually to the town of Westborough, MA. It had been a pretty hilly and very wet morning, and I was ready for some real food, which I hadn't really had any of yet. I pulled up to the first people I saw outside and asked them where a good local place to eat would be, and they pointed me to the building they just came out of: The South Street Diner. I pulled up to the bar to order a burger and some coffee (being wet and in the air conditioning, a hot beverage sounded great), and a guy behind the counter asked where I was coming from. Of course, I got to talking about the trip again (I hope I don't sound rehearsed by now). When I was about done eating, my waitress told me that the man I had been talking to was the owner, and that my lunch was on the house. Soon thereafter, he came by and told me that a guy from the newspaper was on his way over to take a picture and ask me a few questions. We went through the whole interview business and I got on the road. I looked at my maps when I was inside and had decided to stop at a campground about 20 miles away. Once I got to riding, things were just going too well to stop at that campground. The terrain had flattened out, my stomach had real food in it, and it was overcast but not raining. I decided to keep on going. Eventually I stumbled across this trail that had formerly been a railway. These are like gold for a cyclist. Trains can't go on anything steeper than 3% grade. This trail was very nicely paved and absolutely flat, maybe even a little downhill. I hit that trail and I was moving. I kept looking down at my GPS for updates on my speed, and I think I was rolling about 20 for my entire time on that trail. I ended up missing my turn, but I didn't really care, I just kept going because it was so gratifying to be covering so much ground. The trail ended up dumping me out in Nashua, NH, not very far from a Motel 6. I figured that since I had touched 4 states with my bike that day and that I was probably over 100 miles for the day, I could go for another hotel room.

As I rode, I reflected on how my travels have gone thus far, and what seemed to make the difference between a good day and a crappy day, or even a good hour from a bad hour. I think I'm an extrovert to the core. I'm not saying I'm always the most outgoing person, but an extrovert in the sense that I get energy from being around people and having positive interactions with people. The morning after staying with Maria and the A.T. hikers I was buzzing up and down the hills I was cursing the day before. After speaking with the crystal women I climbed another 1000 feet, half of which in the rain, and I was smiling when I got to the top. I had a rough morning going through Connecticut and Rhode Island, but when I stopped for lunch and enjoyed the hospitality of The South Street Diner I proceeded to rock out another 50 miles and get to another state. I can certainly see the strength and weakness in this. Right now I'm alone in a Motel 6, about to set out towards Maine, and I'm having a hard time motivating myself to just get out the door. But once I'm on my bike, things get a little better, and if I get a chance to interact with some random stranger along the road, even better. Now I just need to figure out how to overcome the weakness and utilize the strength in what I'm learning about how I operate. I know my body can do this, I just need to get my mental game in order.

Now I am heading to Maine. I intend to camp on the beach. I don't really care where, but I want to be on the beach. It should be a shorter day. This will be a pretty big landmark for the trip, as I will transition from a northeasterly trajectory to straight west. I'm not exactly sure how I'm getting through New Hampshire and Vermont en route to the Great Lakes, but it's looking like it's going to be some rough going no matter where I go. Oh, and I'll cross the Appalachian trail for the 6th time when I turn back west.

I didn't have as much time as I hoped for. I thought it was more important to write another entry than to upload pictures. I promise I'll get some up here soon.