Imagine how the engineer in charge of the Hubble Telescope felt when it was determined that the mirror was ground too flat by a couple of measly millimeters. He probably said “I don’t know how that happened”. Pete Best, the first drummer for the Beatles; the coach that cut Michael Jordan from his high school basketball team; the Japanese Ambassador that was 30 minutes late getting the Ultimatum of War to the President. They all probably scrunched up their eyebrows, squinted, cocked their heads to the side, and said “I don’t know how that happened.”
It’s the same thing that I said at 2:45 this afternoon when I was slowly coming to realize that I could still be 60 miles from the Brockport hotel that I had reserved that morning. At 4:00 I stopped for more fluids in Lockport (I would consume eight large water bottles today in addition to a few cold sodas). I studied my maps and my heart rose into my throat as it became apparent that I was still 40 miles out. If my cell phone had a signal I would have cancelled my reservation right then and there.
I had a few things going for me. The wind, while not directly behind me, was a quarter off my back. The terrain was generally flat with gentle rolling climbs. I had chosen not to use the gravel of the Erie Canal bicycle trail, opting instead for the huge, smooth shoulder on Route 31A. I arrived at my hotel at 7:45, over seven hours in the saddle, 93 miles on the day!
How did that happen? I got a late start this morning and I underestimated the length of the route north alongside the Niagara River. It is a great route, on a beautiful recreation trail from Fort Erie to the falls, with spectacular views of the river and New York. The headwind was strong and I tucked in behind some recreational riders.
I knew I was getting close when I saw the mist rising high, pushed up by the north-west breeze.
The viewing area was packed with tourists, a multitude of languages wafting through the air. I had to walk my bike and eventually I chose the road to get away from the insanity. I knew I had to get moving but I kept stopping at every interpretive sign and self-guided tour. I finally made it to the bridge and I rode past all the vehicles. My Adventure Cycling map stated to go to the central office and I knocked on the door that said “no admittance, authorized personnel only”. The guy inside turned and looked at me as if I had two heads. Another uniformed customs agent appeared behind me and asked me what I was doing. I thought to myself “this is not going as I planned.” They told me to get in line, I cut in front of the cars, and they let me back into the USA anyway.
Bonus photos;
The Flower Clock at the Botanical Gardens.
Being the 200th anniversary of the War of 1812, there are lots of Canadian flags everywhere, re-enactments of battles, and brand new interpretive signs. Here’s three flags, of three democracies at the site of the Chippawa battlefield;
nealbikestheusa 
You weren’t knocking on the door with your feet, right?
Sometimes, while reading your blog I get this feeling that the people at Adventure Cycling might be sitting in a room getting a good laugh. Some areas may be unpaved. LOL. Hey, lets send our customers to the border agents office and have them knock on the door with all the prohibition signs! ROFL!
On a serious note, after being home for a week was it more difficult to return to finish your ride than going out for the first leg of the trip?
I was actually anxious to get back to Detroit and start cycling again.
Here I sit in the Adventure Cycling office…giggling just a bit. BUT had you talked to me before you tried the Ambassador Bridge I would have saved you a ton of money, time and headache. Oh well, it’s an adventure! I have biked the route you did yesterday. It is pretty awesome, isn’t it? I did it in 2008 I think, part of the Underground Railroad bike route. Have fun out there!
My remarks are intend to give everyone a chuckle. I knew bikes were not allowed on the Ambassador Bridge. But being in Detroit, I guess I just had to go and see for myself. I find it amazing that cyclist are considered the problem and not the solution.
And I wonder what the logic of Customs is. The supervisor told me that they do not even allow the Bridge employees to throw a bike in a pick-up truck and bring them across. They do not allow a cyclist to hitch a ride. Yet, being in a taxi is OK? What extra level of security was provided by the taxi driver?
I remember that other door! Looking at the google maps, it looks like you will be climbing a lot of hills to get to Portland. When is your EST?
I am headed to Portland, Maine. I should be there within two weeks. Then I think I will bike home. Check back here often for a more accurate time frame.
You are almost there Neal!
Looking GOOD man!!!!