Not sure that pun works very well. The point I’m trying to make is that “[Insert name here]port” is a rather common naming convention for towns and villages along the canal. Yesterday, we passed through Lockport, Gasport, and Middleport; today’s route took us past Brockport and Spencerport, to our destination at Fairport.
Lessons Learned, chapter 1: After yesterday’s coffee debacle, I got up at 5:30, put on my biking clothes, and got everything else packed except the tent, my toothbrush, and the stuff that I would be riding with. I then went to breakfast, and enjoyed a hot cup of good coffee. (I also confirmed with the nice young woman who was staffing the breakfast beverages that they would not run out.) After eating, I returned to the tent, brushed my teeth, packed the tent, and carried my gear to the transport truck. I then walked my bike over to the school building and went back inside for a second cup of coffee. I filled my water bottles using the drinking fountains that had a bottle filler. I was on my bike and on my way by 7:15. This is the way.
Today’s ride was long—a little over 65 miles—but smooth and uneventful. The air was cool and the sky was mostly overcast, but with high, non-threatening clouds. The sun was a bright, if hazy, white circle. Several of the towns along the route were lovely, picturesque villages; I made it a point to leave the trail and bike up and back the main drag. There was genuine historical ambience about most of the buildings. I’ve noticed, however, that the most attractive storefronts and signage belong to tattoo parlors.
I’ll let some photos tell the rest of today’s story….
Rideworthy 