Erie Canal Day 1: “Git up there, Sal”

(Ok, I promise: I won’t use lyrics from the classic elementary school folk song for the entire eight days of the ride.)

Saturday, I spent the morning visiting in-laws: first, Pam’s mom and dad, and then her brothers and sister-in-law. It was a gorgeous summer day, the kind that made me fall in love with Buffalo when we lived there. In the afternoon, I met up with my BSF (Bestie Sistah Friend) Julie Snyder, and had a great (but too-brief) time catching up with her. In between those events, I went to the campus of the Nichols Schools (Buffalo’s oldest, uber-elite private K-12 academy) and set up my tent.

Right off the bat, I was a little bit stunned by the magnitude of the campgrounds. I got to Nichols early, so there was still plenty of room to pitch a tent, but it was filling in fast. I had known that this was bigger than the Grand Illinois Bike Tour (150-200 riders), but I didn’t realize how much bigger. They announced at dinner that there were 650 registered riders, plus another 100 or so volunteers who would also be camping and riding at various points on the trail.

Almost immediately, the “logistics center” of my brain began throbbing. Granted, this is the 25th annual ride, it’s been very well-attended for most of that time, and the organizers certainly didn’t seem intimidated by the size of the group. I guess my biggest concern, though, wasn’t so much logistic as personal: how would someone like me, who rides alone 95% of the time, adjust to 749 other riders?

After Day One, the answer is, “Pretty well.” I know from other group rides that people get spread out quickly. The first ten or so miles leaving Buffalo were fairly tightly packed, but after we reached the first rest stop at Pendleton (mile 23), I probably encountered fewer than two dozen other riders the rest of the way. Then, after the stop in Lockport, things really spread out. The trail itself changed from asphalt to crushed limestone, and my bike just begged me let her fly; she’s truly engineered for that kind of surface. (NB: I’ve named her The Lorelei, or Die Lorelei, after the siren of German folklore.) I wasn’t the first to arrive at the campground (Medina Middle School), but I was plenty early enough to get my tent set up and get showered before the bulk of riders arrived.

Tomorrow morning, I will be reversing what I did this morning, when I had all my gear packed and loaded on the truck before going to breakfast… only to discover that all the coffee was gone. When breakfast is from 6-8, and coffee is gone by 7, that’s a problem (q.v., my concern about logistics). The second catering company may do better, but I’m not taking any chances. Eat first, pack second.

Tomorrow: Medina to Fairport