Mohawk-Hudson Trail
The next morning dawned bright and sunny and proved to be a wonderful day for bike travel. Little Prince and I breakfasted on donuts from X’s to O’s bakery and headed out around 8:00 in the morning. The first few miles were through urban terrain until we crossed a set of railroad tracks and climbed the biggest hill of the day (which wasn’t that big) and we began our journey along the Mohawk-Hudson Rail Trail. This trail begins in Cohoes, though the official Erie Canal trail guide which I finally found at an amazing bookstore in Troy indicates that the trail continues on into Albany. From what I could tell however, this is not always a segregated bike path but rather follows a combination of city streets and a waterfront trail. Cohoes is the start of the largest portion of complete bike path which we followed all day, stopping at well-used parks (even on a weekday) for bathroom usage, snacks, and to refill our water supplies.
The path was smooth and easy to ride and it was the first time in more than a week that Little Prince was able to be disconnected and only worry about pedestrians and other cyclists rather than the stress of riding in the city where a car or person can – and will – often appear suddenly from around a corner. For me, riding without the added weight, and at the slower speed, equates to what I imagine the Sunday drives of yore were like. I just amble along, sometimes singing or humming a tune or bantering with Little Prince. While this sometimes happen when we are attached, there is a relaxed nature to the ride when we are separated that I have found incredibly enjoyable.
About 3-5 miles after being unhooked from the follow-me, however Little Prince had reached the apex of his stamina so we hooked back up and on we went to our first lock of the day: number 7!
Lock 7
Lock 7 on the Erie Canal was our first introduction to the purpose of the Erie Canal: to transport goods and people westward from the coast. It is the source of the New York State nickname: the Empire State.
Camping for free
Back in Rensselaer, A and M had been full of advice and good tips about touring and two tips that I will forever appreciate were: all the locks are available to camp at, and if needed, camping on the bike path is an option. And at lock 7 I was able to confirm with the lock captain that camping on the locks was indeed allowed and encouraged! Sadly, it was only around noon that we had arrived at lock 7 otherwise we would have stayed for this lock had one of the larger grassy areas, a port-a-pottie, and potable water available. But my goal was to get to lock 11 by that night, for we had great weather and the trail was easy. However, a week of rugged terrain and then two days off the bikes lulled me into a false sense of ease and when Lock 11 did not look as inviting to camping as expected I continued to pedal us on until the sun was setting and we had yet to reach the next lock. Around 7 we were both tired and cranky so when the bikes fell for the second time, we pitched our first bandit-camp on the side of the path.
Some people passed by as we set up around 8 in the evening but didn’t say anything and in no time the tent was up, dinner eaten, and we were tucked quietly into our sleeping bags. My only fear was that thunderstorms were in the forecast.
Thunder
Close to 4:00 the next morning a large rolling boom in the distance woke me from a fitful sleep. The sun and birds were not even awake yet and so I lay there listening, unsure if it were the thunder I feared or some other source. I didn’t have to wait long to hear it again and suddenly an intense and overwhelming fear sent me into action. While our campsite was well away from people and we were unlikely to attract the attention of animals or authorities we were not well protected against lightning, and my only thought was that thunder brings lightning. Waking Little Prince from his sound sleep (I swear he could sleep through anything) we broke camp and packed the bikes in record setting time. I wasn’t completely positive where on the map we were but I did know, from looking at it last night, that there was a crossing of I-90 within at least 5 miles of our campsite and so I prayed that it was an overpass and we’d be able to wait out the storm underneath it. Thankfully, my hunch had been correct and we reached the overpass not long after the storm began in earnest.
Around 5 AM the rain was not as hard and soon was reduced to little more than a drizzle with the sun promising to arrive in full force soon enough. The trail that early, and just after a rain storm was something no picture can ever fully convey but we did meet these folks just outside of Canajoharie:
Ft. Plain Museum
After meeting the herd of deer Little Prince and I moved on into Canajoharie where we hoped to find a restaurant with something to warm our bellies and a source of water to replenish our water supplies. While the restaurant we chose was not the most vegan-friendly, we were able to get some potatoes and oatmeal before setting off for a hardware store to find some pliers. Just before the hardware store Little Prince saw a sign for the Ft. Plain museum. Since we had gotten such an early start and were already more than halfway to that night’s destination I didn’t have any qualms about at least seeing how much admission might be.
As it turned out the museum was not only free, but came with an amazing personal tour of their exhibits from early Native American habitation of the area through to the days when the Erie Canal brought a booming business to the area. And afterwards we went up to the top of the hill where the fort had been and explored a bit.
And… Hail.
The area surrounding Ft. Plain is much as it was in the 1800s: farming is still the major source of occupation and income for the residents. Therefore, it is no wonder, as we followed bike route 5 back to the trail, that we began to see signs warning drivers of horse and buggy in the area. Sadly, we didn’t see any of these but we did meet a man who spoke with a thick Dutch accent and was kind enough to keep us company as we put sunscreen on for the day that had started cold and wet was turning hot and humid. The humidity was my first clue, the dark clouds rolling while we sat and ate our lunch at the top of one of many rolling hills was another. But, it wasn’t until about a half hour after we were back on the trail that the thunder started to roll. We were close to Lock 17 by this time and the map also showed a nature park close by that was sure to have shelter so, back onto the follow-me Little Prince was hooked, as I raced us towards the promise of safety.
When the rain started coming down it was in large fat drops and on we raced, Little Prince pedaling his heart out. But it wasn’t long before the rain turned to hail and fearing injury I drove the bikes straight for the treeline and found shelter midst the undergrowth and sheltering branches of the trees on the edge of the path.
The hail didn’t last very long, thankfully, and just as it was clearing I spotted another cyclist coming towards us decked out in rain gear and clearly prepared for the weather with protective coverings over his panniers and clearly looking much drier than I was feeling at that moment! It must have been quite a shock to see Little Prince hiding like fugitives among the trees, but he was nice enough to stop and chat for a while. It turned out JW was coming from Buffalo on his first tour of the canal, to spend the Memorial Day weekend with family in Troy. We exchanged contact information and I hoped that we might run into each other again. Our two groups went on our separate ways as the rain slowed to a clear, hot, sunny day once more.
Lock 17
I had been correct that shelter wasn’t far, but no longer useful to us, Little Prince and I continued on to lock 17. While there were plenty of quiet places along the trail that day to bandit camp, my reason for going to lock 17 was to see and take in the multitude of lessons available. Not only are there geological marvels, the glacier potholes, but there are also mechanical and engineering achievements to witness.
At this lock the boats are raised by the greatest amount (40.5 feet) along the canal and it is truly breath-taking how incredibly huge this lock has to be in order to achieve this, especially when compared with the ruins of an original lock that was one of many to raise boats to the same elevation.
With two highly successful days under our belts and our imaginations fed by exploring Moss Island for a good hour Little Prince and I turned in for the night and hoped for little more than lunch at a vegan restaurant the next day.
Elizabeth E. Yahn 