We did have to stop on a hill, a long climb, but we didn't have to walk; and, like I said, no real rain to speak of, but it was overcast all day and the temperatures were very cool. And so we kept pedaling, not even stopping for lunch, because there wasn't really anywhere to go but on up the road.
The scenery along this route is gorgeous; even with the overcast skies, we could see the lush green of the New York Mountains. Along the way we found numerous little waterfalls (and some larger ones) and lots of lovely little streams. And when we finally reached a point where we could see the southern tip of Lake Champlain, and saw the bridge we figured we would cross the next day, it looked fabulous (perhaps because we thought our day was nearly done).
We reached Port Henry fairly early, around 3:30, and stopped at a sign that depicted both Port Henry and the nearby town of Moriah, listing several businesses by name with their number and location on the map. The sign also listed the names of people who claimed to have sighted Champ, the sea monster alleged to live in Lake Champlain, and the dates of the sightings (the last of which was in 1990 - you may draw your own conclusions). For this reason, the signs are together known as the "Champ Sign".
We were standing there at the Champ Sign trying to find somewhere to stay for the night (having ruled out camping, even at Bulwagga Bay, because it was clearly going to rain overnight), when a car pulled up. Inside were Barb and Jesse Dayton, a couple in their 60's who had themselves ridden across the country last year; we talked with them for a few minutes before they invited us to come stay the night at their place in Westport, another 15 miles or so. Of course, even though it meant another hour and a half to two hours, we accepted because we wanted to hear their stories and experiences (and they promised dinner . . . YUM!)
I don't mind admitting that, knowing Jesse had a truck, I was secretly hoping the whole way from Port Henry to Westport that he would magically appear and give us a ride the rest of the way (Nancy told me later that she was thinking the same thing). It was not because we didn't want to ride; it was because we were so sure we were done at Port Henry but then went on. That's a psychological disadvantage; if you expect to go 43 miles and end up going 58, then those last 15 miles are just harder than ordinary.
Let me state right now, at this juncture, that those miles were well worth it; the evening we spent with Barb and Jesse was an unexpected delight. Jesse did meet us just as we entered Westport; we had both noticed the red pickup truck go by because he had their dog Buddy with him. The ride from where he picked us up was basically uphill about 90% of the way, and we were glad for the short respite. When we got to their house, Jesse asked us as we entered (somewhat hesitantly) "you're not strict vegetarians, are you?" -- Barb had started a dinner of spaghetti and meatballs. Laughing, we assured him we were not.
We met their two cats, as well; Cleocatra and Marc Anthony. Marc Anthony was the larger and fluffier of the two, looking much like the "Badcat" on the Kliban cat cartoons (for those that remember the Kliban cats). Barb and Jesse were wonderful hosts, and we had a great dinner with them, including dessert of brownies and ice cream. Barb had told Jesse not to bore us with their stories, to let us tell ours, but of course we are always interested in the experiences others have had; we told Jesse we wanted to hear their stories, and we did. We were up until after midnight talking, and looking at their pictures from previous trips. We were never bored, not for an instant.
They not only rode bikes across the country (on the Transamerica Trail, which we will use through part of Missouri, Kansas, Colorado and Wyoming), they also made news when they rode to Barb's 50th class reunion in Minnesota by way of some remote parts of Canada. They told us about how they had taken a "bush train" to a sawmill town, and got to know Lloyd, the steward on the train. When they realized just a few moments too late that Barb had left her wallet on the train (and the train would return this way the next day sometime), they had to spend the night in this little town in the middle of nowhere. They were able to call the rail company, who was able to contact the train, and when the train came through the next day it slowed down just enough for Lloyd to hand the wallet to Jesse at the siding.
Barb, by the way, is a triathlete, and would have been out swimming (in training) tonight if we had not appeared. She has competed in Lake Placid, Hawaii, and other locations, and even holds the record for her age group at Lake Placid, breaking the old record by more than two hours. Her plan was to go for a 60-mile bike ride first thing in the morning. She's in pretty good shape :-).
They put us in a guest room that was incredibly comfortable, and we slept like big logs; Nancy got up and left the door open in the morning, just a little, but it was enough for Marc Anthony to get in and jump up on the bed, startling Nancy. I know how to deal with cats like that, though; Nancy got a picture or two, and we'll post that soon.
Our plan for tomorrow is now to ride to the Essex-Charlotte ferry and ride that across to Vermont. We think the rain will hold off until late tomorrow, by which time we should be at Kurt and Holly's place in Burlington. Pictures to come . . .
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