Where am I, exactly? (Comments: 4)
Author: Jason Crane
Date: 30 March, 2008
Category: Road Stories, Xtracycles / Cargo Bikes
Distance: 49.27 miles
I rode my first half-century today. Well, it was 49.27 miles, but close enough! I’m not sure what my previous record was, but I think it was under 40 miles. I had originally planned to ride a metric century today (62 miles), but circumstances prevented that.
As you can tell by the title of this post, I spent a fair portion of my ride today wondering where I was. I decided to take the Mohawk-Hudson Bikeway to Schenectady and then come back, which would have been 62 or more miles. I looked at a map online to get the idea. After a couple minutes scanning the map, I thought, “OK, I’ve got it.” I mean, how hard can it be, right? You get on the trail, and get off when you see the city of Schenectady. (Ominous music begins…)
My ride started nicely. At the pedestrian bridge in Albany, I met Claire Nolan, a cyclist who was meeting some friends to practice the course for the upcoming Ride of Silence, a global ride to remember cyclists killed while riding. The ride is May 11, 2008, and more information on the Albany route is available here.
Shortly after starting out on the trail, I stopped to look at one of the many historical markers along the Bikeway. This one commemorated Al-Tro Park, an amusement park from the early 20th century. The park stood on an island in the Hudson River, but the island no longer exists. Many of the Hudson’s islands near Albany were lost when the 787 expressway was built. In 1901, before Al-Tro Park was built, a place called Lagoon Island occupied the same site and featured bicycle races.
I followed the Mohawk-Hudson Bikeway through Watervliet. Up to this point, it was the same ride I took last week. From here, though, I continued on the Bikeway through Watervliet and into Green Island. Part of Green Island is attached to the mainland, and part of it is, technically, a peninsula. (At least according to my map. Purchased, I might add, 35 miles into the ride.) According to one of my co-workers, Green Island has its own power-generating station on the Hudson, and residents of Green Island pay very little for their electricity. Green Island’s town offices are housed in an old church, but as far as I know, Green Island is not a theocracy. Not that it would be out of place in today’s America.
The Bikeway makes its way to Cohoes next, and there are quite a few switchbacks as you climb the bluffs that overlook the river. Midway up, I saw an old canal lock. It’s now a park, and you can see the old path of the canal like a skeleton under the park.
At Cohoes, I got on the “Crescent Branch” of the Mohawk River Trailway, presumably a tribute to John Coltrane. This trail begins by winding along the bluffs overlooking the town of Cohoes. At a few places along the ride the trail was marked by permanent wooden maps, the first of which had no marking to indicate where on the map you were.
Apparently there was a fair amount of snow while I was out of town, and much of the trail was snow-covered. I’ve never done much snowbiking, but I did read quite a few how-to lessons by the folks at Full Moon Vista Bike & Sport in Rochester, the most important of which was not to fight the bike. Just keep pedaling and let the wheels go where they may. That worked really well, and I made it through quite a bit of snow between Cohoes and Niskayuna. (I did have to walk once on an uphill stretch of the trail. The back wheel was spinning.)
The trail was really busy around Niskayuna. There were quite a few bikers, walkers, dogs, joggers — you name, people were doing it on the Bikeway. I stopped a family to ask how far it was to a town where I could eat. The husband was too spellbound by the Packet Boat (Xtracycle) to answer, but his wife gave me directions into Niskayuna.
I decided to stay on the trail, though, and eventually came to Lock 7 on the Canal. The lock featured a long cement pier that offered a gorgeous view of the water.
Not too far after the lock, I started seeing dozens of yellow signs reading NO TRESPASSING BY ORDER OF THE UNITED STATES DEPARTMENT OF ENERGY. The trail runs right along part of the General Electric R&D plant. Also nearby is a nuclear plant. (I should note that all the food service workers at the plants are members of my union, UNITE HERE.)
It was around this point that I started to wonder just where I was. I thought that Schenectady was still to the west, but I wasn’t sure. I tried to bring up a mental picture of the map, but I couldn’t remember it well enough. I decided to press on and hope for the best. I’d already ridden 25+ miles, meaning that if I turned around a rode back, I’d still set a personal best for distance.
Within a few miles, I had come to a moment of decision. The trail was completely snow-covered and in shade, and the snow was deep enough that I couldn’t sail the Packet Boat through it. I left the bike and walked a little ways up the trail. Snow — as far as the eye could see. Now I was starting to wonder. I’d already been out more than three hours, including stops, and I’d gone 31 miles, meaning that I could make my metric century if I just turned around and went back the way I came.
Two factors entered into my decision:
- I’d just come down a huge hill with several switchbacks, and had no desire to climb it;
- Going back the exact same way is boring
About 50 feet away, up a steep embankment, I could see the guardrail of a highway. Could I get the Xtracycle up that hill? If I made it, which highway was that? Would I be able to figure out which way to go? Was I, in short, an idiot?
My next action answered that final question with a resounding, “Yes!” I started pushing the Boat up the embankment, slipping in the snow and swearing quite colorfully, if I do say so myself. I finally resorted to getting behind the Boat and shoving it the last several feet. Luckily, I recently started riding with the WideLoaders on, and that helped keep the bike from falling all the way over or rolling back down the hill.
After a few minutes rest, I grabbed the boat and heaved it over the guardrail. I was about midway up a very steep hill, cars and trucks whizzing by on the two-lane road. I decided that downhill was the better part of valor. At the bottom of the hill was a sign for 146 East and 146 West. I still thought Schenectady was probably to the west, and I noticed that a few hundred feet to the east was a Saratoga County sign, so I knew that was the wrong way.
I started pedaling in granny gear up the steep westward hill. I was on Balltown Road, about which I knew nothing. Eventually, though, I saw a Mobil station ahead, so I stopped and bought a map. There was a Friendly’s restaurant behind the gas station. I decided to stuff my face and look at the map.
Turns out that the Bikeway was marked on the map, and I’d left the trail just a few miles from the point where it enters downtown Schenectady. According to the map, I could stay on Balltown Road and get to Route 5, which becomes Central Avenue in Albany — not far from my rental house. I ate a bacon cheeseburger and fries, asked the server to fill up my water bottles, and headed back onto the road.
Route 5 sucks for cyclists. I took the right lane, but still found myself watching my rearview mirror more than the road ahead as car after car sped by within inches of me. After a few miles of this, I turned right on Fuller Road in Albany (right near CK Cycles) and then took Washington Street home.
The ride was a blast. I was tired and proud when I got home.
Here are my pictures from the trip:
