Day 53 - Macedon to Camillus 75.6 miles

A poor nights sleep in the hot, humid and somewhat pungent tent didn't set us up well for the days riding. We ate the leftover cookies, fruit and crisps John gave us for breakfast and set off along the canal again. The first stretch of canal was working, with watercraft moving up and down, and plenty of users on the towpaths enjoying Labour Day weekend. The canal joined a river further up, and widened significantly. We rode through archways of trees, leaves starting to turn ochre hues, with drops on either side of the path into canal and ditch.

We stopped in Lyons for a cold drink and a cake from the service station. In contrast to the picturesque canal side towns we have been passing the last few days, this area seemed rougher, with some form of altercation occurring on the corner by the station.

The route joined Cycle Route 5 for the afternoon, along roads over rolling hills. The gradients were gentle enough that it didn't slow us particularly. This section made us realise just how tedious the road sections were compared to the canal, and with the heat approaching 40 Celsius, we were all a bit worn down come lunch time in Port Byron.

After lunch we joined a mixture of paths and road until rejoining the Erie Canal Path, although on an unused section of canal. Deadwood floated in stagnant brackish water. The occasional toad leapt out of the way on the path.

We stopped at a fire station to ask directions to a free camping spot, and were pointed a couple of miles further down the trail. On approaching Camillus we came across a small museum, and went inside to ask again. We were offered by the very friendly, elderly volunteers a place to camp out back, with access to the wash rooms, kitchen and water in the museum overnight. Liz Beebe kindly gave us some soft drinks and set out food for us in the morning. They also recommended the New York State Fair which was ongoing this evening, 6 miles up the road.

It was nice riding our bikes unladen for a change, responsive to turning, acceleration and braking. The fairgrounds were expansive. We entered at gate 9, into a car park that stretched as far as we could see ahead of us. We found the entrance to the Fair, and a State Trooper directing traffic through interpretive dance, keeping himself and the crowds at the ticket office amused.

As we approached the office, a man behind us called us over, and gave us three free tickets to the fair! Today was definitely a lucky day. We wandered the fair grounds, large enough to have their own shuttle bus inside. Large tents housed livestock expositions, tractor shows and other agricultural activities on the outside. Inside, roller coasters, amusement park rides, music and candy floss stalls abounded. We meandered through, taking in the atmosphere. All manner of food was on offer, and drinks tents served wine slushies, beers and ciders at inflated cost to thirsty customers, ourselves included. We ate some fairground food and watched the Monster Truck show from the bottom fence for a while. Later, we stumbled across a ten thousand strong crowd watching the Steve Miller Band perform during a guitar solo.

An iced custard, root beer float and a corn dog later, and we made our way to the exit. I needed a new T-shirt to replace one which has become particularly worn on this trip, so we stopped at a stall for that. The T-shirt designs were all pretty garish and so rather than find the least sore on the eye, we decided to go all out and find the worst ones we could. Stand by, New York.

Cycling back in the dark was uneventful, save for exiting the fair through four solid lanes of traffic at an interstate junction. We bypassed it along a short cheeky section of train line. We haven't done much cycling at night, and so it was refreshing with the cool breeze and different aspect to the scenery, particularly along the canal. We opted to camp inside the museum and have a good nights sleep rather than the tent.

Day 52 - REST DAY Rochester to Macedon 25.9 miles

A cool night meant for a good nights sleep last night in Davids garden. This morning Owen had to do some work for the job placement with the Royal Engineers he is soon to be starting, and so we spent most of the morning making conversation with David and Nancy over a cup of spiced Indian tea with Owen working away on their laptop. While working outside on the bike, I did managed to stand on a wasp, getting an unpleasant shock as it stung the soft arch of my foot, leaving me with cramp for the rest of the day. Cheers wasp!

Owen finished by midday and we set out on the canal towpath once more. We were stopped a number of times by cyclists asking about our travels, and we had our photo taken by one enthusiastic nature photographer who stopped us on a bridge. We caught up with a couple of tourers, Becky and Gary, who were cycling Seattle to Maine. We spoke for a long while, and decided to share lunch at a local canal side restaurant which made a nice change from the usual burger and chips!

Becky was from a military family, with three brothers of Colonel rank, one cousin a Lieutenant General in charge of NATO in Turkey, another Uncle of General rank and a brother who works as navigator for Air Force One. They were a big Republican family, and we debated the merits of socialised healthcare for a while.

We took photos and said our goodbyes. It was 3pm by this stage, and we decided to write today off as a rest/ half day, and set out for the next town and the American Legion, hoping to repeat our success at the Canadian Legion and secure accommodation. Unfortunately it was closed on arrival. I popped into a small bookstore to ask where we could find a drink in town. Before we knew it we were pulled in by John who took us to a small room at the back with a coffee shop out of a kitchenette, a seating area with sofas, and snacks laid out. A couple of elderly locals were there, regulars, who welcomed us in and offered us freedom to snack away. John presented two lagers and an alcoholic root beer free of charge to us. The store was full of character, and interesting books. John was a keen historian, and many interesting historical books caught our eye. Toy soldiers lined the top of the mahogany bookshelves. We spoke of home and our travels, and they asked many questions, and shared opinions and stories of the States. It was an excellent way to spend the rest of the afternoon.

John gathered receipts from a local pizzeria, and had accumulated enough to get us $10 off a meal over the road. He took us over to ensure we got fed. Later he came in as we ate, and had a message from the Mayor, saying we could camp in the local Butterfly Park, by the fire station. We could also use the fire stations showers in the morning should we wish. He also gave us left over cookies, crisps, fruit and bottled water for the morning. He was an exceptionally generous, gentle and kind hearted man.

We set up at the park, put our bottle of wine from the winery in Niagara-On-The-Lake in the stream to cool, and relaxed for the evening. Unfortunately the wine had spoiled somewhat in the heat, as it was supposed to be kept chilled. It was still drinkable, but not as enjoyable as before. Some Dairy Milk washed it down well.

Another day along the canal tomorrow, taking it easy with a target of 50 miles. The stone dust of the canal is giving our grey panniers and bikes a covering of fine white/grey dust, making them resemblant of something from the Rommel's Afrika Korps.

Day 51 - Lockport to Rochester 61.9 miles

We joined the Erie Canal Cycle Way today, which we will follow for 300 miles or so to Albany. The canal is wide, around double the width of the canals we cycled along back home, although there was very little traffic. The path was stone dust, much like the crushed limestone of the Elroy-Sparta Trail back in Wisconsin. With no rush to cover miles, we took it easy, soaking up the scenery and enjoying the freedom from cars.

We stopped early in Middleport for a cup of tea, after a passer by shouted that there was a nice coffee shop in the town. It was the first place in America that made the tea correctly! On leaving the coffee shop we were passed by a Harley-Davidson motorcyclist with a great white beard blown up over his face in such a way that we wondered how he could see!

We rolled on for an hour to Albion for lunch at the Burger King, with locals approaching us all the time of ask about our travels. It was a very friendly town.

A casual ride in the afternoon heat took us to Rochester, with plenty of breaks in the shade as we rode. We met our host for the night on the South side of town, just off the canal. David and Nancy are academics, teaching at various institutions locally and abroad. David teaches photography at the liberal arts college and had lectured in Yale and worked for the International Baccalaureate in Wales and Cyprus. Nancy teaches high school English.

They treated us to a spot on their lawn for camping, with use of the facilities inside their house. Once set up, they drove us to an Indian restaurant, which we have been craving for some weeks now. It was a little taste of home almost, having a curry, rice, naan and beer.

Day 50 - Niagara-On-The-Lake to Lockport via Niagara Falls 43.7 miles

Knees aching, muscles sore, we decided we needed a short day. With Niagara Falls to see, we knew that a touristy day lay ahead of us. We slept in until 8am, although the heat last night meant that none of us were well rested. Karen took us to breakfast, another mountain of pancakes, bacon and eggs, which brought us back into the world. On our return, her mom handed us some snacks of apricots, almonds and chocolate, and we set out.

First of all we had a fifteen mile ride back up the escarpment, which we broke down using excellent route advice form Karen, and a number of good viewing points. We picked up a cycle route into the Falls, passing another tourer going the opposite way. She suggested the boat trip as a must.

On the Canadian side, you can see all of the falls with what are considered the best views. The town is exceptionally touristy, bursting with gift shops and attractions. We took the advice and ignored all of these, instead going for the boat trip to the foot of the falls. The spray rained down heavily on us as we moved into the horseshoe, with water thundering vertically on three sides. It was an exceptional experience.

On returning, we watched an unexpected airshow over the falls, the Snow Birds flying in formation with aircraft, smoke streaming behind them. It felt a fitting finale to our Canadian phase, and we went for lunch before stocking on Dairy Milk and crossing Rainbow Bridge into The Empire State.

We had an offer of a place to stay for the evening in Lockport, so a 20 mile ride lay ahead of us, which was slightly more than we wanted today however it would save us on campsite fees. We rode through more farmland to the town, bought lunch and met Nancy, our host. She works delivering tours of the canal here, and the five famous locks. She kindly offered us maps of the route ahead.

With less than 500 miles to go, we have decided to go easy now, so as not to reach New York City too early. So 50 mile days now, and more stops to enjoy the towns on route. It is strange to think we are in the final state of the trip now.

Day 49 - Turkey Point to Niagara-on-the-Lake 97 miles

As far as rude awakenings go, this morning tops the lot.

"Racoon! There's a racoon in the tent!" Owen exclaimed at 0530. I dozily looked up. The sound of rustling came from our porch area with all of our food.

"Get out! Go! Shoo!" We shouted, alongside a couple of more colourful terms. It paid no attention. I launched a flip flop at it, but it shrugged it off. Owen crawled forwards to scare it off; It looked up.

"Skunk! Skunk in the tent!" And never before has Owen jumped back quicker into the inner, zipping the door shut.

The skunk returned to it's meal of our tortilla chips left over from last nights barbeque. We reassessed the situation. Owen flashed his torch at it; Not bothered. Out of ideas, unwilling to get more physical for fear of having to explain to the Regimental Quartermaster why his tent is now uninhabitable, we accepted our new tent mate and went back to bed. We dozed away, our intruder munching away on tortilla chips in the background.

When we arose again, a black and white fluffy tail was wagging out of Owen's day sack. In mortal fear for the Chamois cream, we thought of alternative ways to scare it off. Jake played the skunk some music, which it didn't like, and it ducked out under the fly. Jake pursued while Owen and I got dressed. Owen was again crawling into to porch area when the skunk slipped back in; Cue shouting, Owen leaping back, zipping the tent and holding our breath. I set my speakers to full and played some heavy metal music, and it panicked and ran. Jake then chased it with a railway sleeper. It didn't return.

The cycling was long and uneventful. We passed a maple tree with the most vivid red leaves I have ever seen. The rest was corn, beans and chilli fields. Workers picked chillies in the heat, scarves around their mouths and faces, and gloves on their hands. It was a hilly morning, but an afternoon of flat, straight roads, one of which was 30 miles long. We later picked up the Welland Canal to Lake Ontario.

Accommodation tonight was supposedly at a winery organised through Mike's friend Michael. We tried a couple of times to call him, but to no avail. Eventually I called Mike and he gave us an address and said he would call Michael too. Great, we thought, all sorted.

We cycled to the winery after dropping down the escarpment a couple of hundred metres to the Lake Ontario shore. We rode through vineyards and orchards of apples and peaches, incredible smells drifted past on the breeze, the air sweet and thick. Wineries were signposted in every direction. At our destination, the establishment was closed, with seemingly no signs of life. Around the back, we found a girl with a friend drinking wine on the back porch. Karen, while a little confused why three Brits had just appeared from around the corner, was welcoming and offered us chairs on the porch while we figured out the accommodation. It all appeared promising, and someone was coming to meet us in an hour and a half.

Karen took us to a winery she works at, doing book keeping, where we were treated to a free tour and tasting. We tasted four wines, a white, red and two "ice wines", learning about the wine making process as we went. As none of us are wine connoisseurs, we learned a great deal. We bought a bottle of ice wine for the road, as it is apparently somewhat rare; The grapes must be pressed while still frozen, creating a thicker, sweeter wine similar to a liqueur. Jake also met a friend of a friend from back in Ross-on-Wye who was working in the winery and led the tour and tasting.

We returned to our back porch and attempted to sort out the accommodation again. After several calls, it seemed we weren't expected, and a call to Mike confirmed that he had texted me saying that we couldn't be accommodated, but texts from locals do not reach me over here. A potentially awkward situation. The woman coming to meet us would have expected us to pay several hundred dollars for the B&B!

Karen came to the rescue, and spoke to her mother, securing us a back garden to sleep in. She also took us out for dinner at a local bar, where we played pool with her and her friend. By he time we returned it was late, we were tired, and we retreated to a hot and humid tent.

Day 48 - Port Stanley to Turkey Point 68 miles

After a few beers and scotch in the evening, we had a lie in until 7am this morning. Bob and Helen insisted on taking us to breakfast at The Buccaneer, where they were married, and we didn't put up a fuss! So a leisurely start today. We were on the road for quarter past ten, with full stomachs and tired legs; Not a combination for fast cycling. A short day then.

The coastal road along the lakeshore was relatively flat, although it had a couple of hills to keep us on our toes. We hit Port Burwell after two hours. On crossing the bridge we spotted something unexpected to our right: a large Diesel Electric Submarine! HMCS (the name escapes me, formerly HMS Onyx under construction), she was set up as a museum, with regular tours. There was no large visitor centre, or establishment, just a portacabin selling tour tickets and the submarine itself. The tour was interesting, although some of the facts were incorrect as Jake later discovered. The submarine was Cold War era. The hull was caved in in some sections from the external water pressure, presumably from diving too deep. The accommodation on board was comparable to HMS Ocean; bunks smaller than 6ft in length, and rarely a ceiling high enough to stand straight in, made all the more impressive with the knowledge that the captain was 6'9"! At the end of the tour, an ex submariner from the HMCS Okanogan was volunteering to answer questions, and told stories of his time in service. It was a real privelage, and totally unexpected.

We stayed in town for lunch before reluctantly moving on. The road became more hilly, dipping down into coastal towns much like riding back home. We made Turkey Point for half past five, and decided to stop for a cool drink and find some wifi in town. Internet access was elusive however. We considered camping on the lake for the evening, but thought we should find internet to check on Warm Showers first. While riding around the town, a couple passed us on their bikes, we smiled and said hello, which got us talking, and they offered us use of their internet at their parent's house. We had a small crowd of family members asking us about our travels, and family friends too! They called a friend who owns a winery which we passed just before dropping down the hill to the town, and secured us a free place to pitch a tent, a shower, and a BBQ dinner with a large group of mountain bikers!

At the bike park, over the road from the winery, we stopped and pitched our tent by an old rusty water tower, and waited for the owners to come back from their ride. One by one, mountain bikers rolled in out of the wood line, and we greeted each other. Dave Pond, the co-owner of the site, set us up with showers and introduced us to the group. A group of around twenty cyclists were out for a final ride with a member of the group who was moving to Vancouver soon. We felt privelaged to share in the festivity. Dave brought us a cooler full of cold lager, and we enjoyed a plentiful supply of sausages from the grill, courtesy of Luke. Jennifer, from back in Turkey Point, even stopped by to check on us. Apparently my "smile was so sweet she had to help us out." We shared stories of our travels, enjoying hearing of their own (mis)adventures! Mike McArthur, the owner of the winery, even used his connections at the Niagra wineries to secure us a place to stay for tomorrow night!

We polished off the farewell cake with the party, said our goodbyes, shared our details, and now we are sat around the campfire with the last of the beers, and the last of the wood, looking at the stars (and writing this blog!)

Edit: HMCS Ojibwa!

Day 47 - Leamington to Port Stanley 110.9 miles

A smooth morning meant we were away from camp on schedule for 0800. Our first port of call was Leamington Town to continue our search for the elusive maps and gas. After an hour of looking around various supermarkets in town, an a coffee at Starbucks to reassess when it was all going wrong, we managed to get everything we needed. An hour delayed, we expected to just make our target for the day, particularly with a long detour as a bridge was out on Route 34.

The roads were quick today. We were going steadily at 15mph all day, with a slight tailwind. A distinct lack of hills, and a good road surface, meant we made 55 miles by lunch. The scenery was similar the whole way, corn fields on both sides, with views over Lake Erie to our right. A cool breeze off the lake was much welcomed.

We stopped in Blenheim for lunch, with wifi, where I called up a few potential hosts ahead of us. No luck, but we did get through to a coffee shop where the woman offered to find us somewhere to stay in Port Stanley, and some advice for spots nearby if she couldn't. With 55 miles to Port Stanley, it was at the edge of what we could cover in the afternoon, assuming the wind and hills stayed friendly.

The going was quicker in the afternoon, and we made Port Stanley by twenty past six. Using the wifi at the coffee shop, which was closed, I checked my emails, but nothing from our host at the shop. We decided a drink at the pub was in order. I was told the Royal Canadian Legion was a good bar to go to, where people had been offered a place to stay by locals before, so we went there. A cold cider went down well.

While asking the bartender about camping in town, and seeing her efforts to contact the owner of a small RV park up the road, a couple at a nearby table unbeknownst to us decided that we would be staying with them tonight. The Army insignia on our jerseys helped. As we left the Legion, they came out behind us and asked us where we were off to. We were struck by the strong Glaswegian accent.

Bob, a widower, and Helen recently married last July. Bob was ex Army, serving with the Scots Borderers in the jungle in Malaya. Before that he was in the merchant navy, serving various liner routes before jumping ship in Canada and hitchhiking across the country. He was caught working at a farm, and spent a short while hopping between different Canadian jails as he was sent home. Helen has a background in nursing. They had a plethora of interesting stories, with Bob reminiscing on his time in the jungle, including a young officer charging through a swamp with his family sword after getting ambushed; His platoon losing all of their rations and supplies when told to bed down near a river in monsoon season; And getting called into his commanding officer's office to be told off for not calling his mother in three months, as she was giving his CO a hard time. They insisted we call home in the morning.

With full bellies after Helen's lasagne, pizza, fruit and toast dinner, and relaxed after a couple of beers and a scotch, we are looking forward to an excellent sleep indoors on their comfortable guest beds.