Raindrops keep falling on my head

For the past week, when it hasn't been raining, it's been gray and gloomy at the very least.  Sometimes I've only seen the sun for a few minutes a day, usually towards the end of the day when the sun is low enough on the horizon to peek through the cloud cover directly overhead.

I take many fewer photographs when there is no sun to bring out the colors and contrasts, but sometimes my  surroundings take on a very quiet, almost mystical quality that creates a special mood.  It's not at all unpleasant, even for a Californian who loves bright sunny days. 

Before leaving home, I predicted that my biggest challenge would be to face days on end of rain, at times torrential, sometimes accompanied by great claps of thunder and terrifying strikes of lightning all around me.  I have been very lucky in that I've been able to sit out any severe weather --- only once did it cost me a whole day.  The rain I have encountered has been just regular old rain, not some deluge of Biblical proportions.  My biggest challenge turned out to be the headwinds, and I eventually learned to live with them as well.  The solution to get through any of this has been the same: just keep pedaling.

 

The Adirondacks

My favorite scenery is mountains, forests, lakes and streams, and that is exactly what New York's Adirondacks have to offer.  If the scenery alone wasn't enough to lift one's spirits, the weather turned gloriously sunny for a series of balmy end-of-summer days.  The roads were good; the climbs weren't too hard; and I was in a terrific mood.

Unlike California, the East has a well-defined season: Memorial Day to Labor Day.  My timing was perfect for spending the last two nights of the "season" camping at New York state parks.  The campgrounds shut down on Labor Day no matter what, even though there is another few weeks of real summer and a possibly a couple more of Indian summer.

I had two exquisite campsites for the two nights I was in the Adirondack State Park.  The first at Limekiln Lake, and the second at Lake Eaton [who decides whether the word "lake" comes first or last, anyway?].  Those civilized New Yorkers insist that their state campgrounds have hot showers, which suits me just fine, even if I am from the "other coast".  As I passed through the little town of Inlet (pictured), I stopped at a small grocery store for a steak, instant butter-and-garlic mashed potatoes, and an Australian Shiraz.  The forested "wilderness" of New York does not preclude a few amenities of advanced civilization.

The next night, I had no need of my little single-burner stove because I had a dinner date in Long Lake.  Long Lake is about four miles from Lake Eaton, so I had to dash out to the campground, set up camp, and, since I was running very late, cycle back to town (unshowered) so that I would only be a half hour late meeting Susan.  We decided that the Adirondack Hotel would be our dining spot, and sat out on the deck overlooking the lake to catch up on the 16 years that had passed since we last saw one another in person.  I have known Susan just about as long as I have know my friend Jim.  All three of us met more than three decades ago when we were living in Heidelberg, Germany.  With Susan it doesn't take long to find yourself totally at ease, laughing about past foibles that you know about, and sharing a few of the more recent ones.

Contrary to my bad habits, I got on the road early the next morning.  Despite the novelty of an early start, this is not truly a significant event of the trip, but I mention it because it allowed me the awesome sight of the foggy mist rising off the waters of Long Lake in the first hours of a very cold morning.  The photo does not do it justice, but it gives you a sense of what it was like to be there.

The Green Mountains of Vermont

 The mountains of Vermont are kept green and beautiful by abundant rainfall.  My short stay in Vermont was mostly damp, but at least it was a gentle rain.  I took the ferry across Lake Champlain from New York into Vermont, and at the top of the first knoll, I was greeted by a few picturesque Vermont cows who seemed intrigued, but not intimidated, by the sight of a cyclist in rain gear. 

Vermont is the only state in the Union where cows outnumber people.  In past times, the excess milk was turned into cheese and exported to the more populated mid-Atlantic states.  Today, thank God, it is turned into Ben & Jerry's ice cream and exported nationwide.

The nostalgic highlight of my twenty-four hours in Vermont was re-visiting Middlebury College.  I spent one summer there before heading to Paris to do graduate work.  The campus had quadrupled in size, but "Le Chateau" was as a remembered it, and the older buildings at the center of campus were just as beautiful.

For more pictures of the last week ...