Frackheads and gasholes. Part one.

The whole of upstate New York has a lot to compete with considering it's reputable attraction to the south.  I'd imagine most people not from the state automatically assume all New Yorkers are from the city, and therefore those folks from upstate find themselves resenting the assumption.  In response to the seemingly infinite praise from upstaters and outsiders of beautiful upstate New York, we decided to take a look.

As per usual, our naivety left us just outside the city and unexpectedly climbing steep grades instead of casually strolling through lush, rolling farmland--what I'd imagined the entire upstate to be.  Weaving along the Upper Delaware, we found our true taste of the Appalachian Mountains.  Our path moving east must have been a lucky one, because this time around, the terrain rivaled anything the Ozarks or the Rockies could throw a us.

Once far enough north to stay in New York and head west, we turned left and rode bicycle route 17 out of the beautiful Upper Delaware River valley. Route 17 proved to be comfortable riding with an occasional rolling climb to the view of lush countryside. We rode route 17 to Waverly. Our decision to spend the night in this town turned out to be a contentious one; for in Waverly we had ourselves a clusterfuck of a night. It started in a city park, where we're technically not allowed after sunset.  This hasn't been an issue the other few times we've done it; maybe because we haven't been caught, or maybe because we're obviously moving on.  However one looks at it, sometimes there just isn't a campground within a reasonable distance.  In Waverly, after learning from the polite local police what we already knew-- no camping nearby--we were too beat to try and find another place outside town. Instead, we sought the Best Western just across the border in Pennsylvania, where we learned the going rate is $150.00 per night.  The unusually high rate for a hotel in this small community is due to a recent increase in demand from the contracted fracking labor.  The girl at the Best Western counter kindly directed me to the Palmer House, an extremely nice and budget friendly bed and breakfast. The kind folks there provided us with the comfort of a shower, a bed, and an amazing breakfast spread.  

While I was inside the Best Western, Dan was talking to a journalist from the local paper, Morning Times.  It was because of this chance encounter that we have now received another badge in cycle touring; the coveted newspaper article.

After such a night, I'd typically assume the complicated tale would be enough to satisfy one week's worth of traveling, but it's not.  I'll leave the following days in northern Pennsylvania for part two.

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My approach to this adventure has been to seek the beauty in this country, and thus discover a new dimension of patriotism within myself.  Therefore I typically try to keep my shared observations as close to mere articles of positive experience, without crossing into any stratospheres of a bad attitude. To my benefit, this hasn't been a challenge because this adventure has been full of exemplary human experience.  I have most certainly found my patriotic sense, and am enjoying my homeland with the proud eyes I have always wanted.

Though I now enjoy harnessing a positive outlook on the future of this great land, I can't help but look around the rosy lenses and see some potential for improvement.

In the days following our experience in Waverly, I've considered the conversations we had with the police and a few folks at the bed and breakfast, about the economies of fracking.  For those unwise to the term, fracking is a method of extracting natural gas stores from rock thousands of feet underground.  Environmental uncertainties aside, the fracking economy has been a boon to the small economies wherever it's recently become prolific.  Those holding property above the gas stores are striking it rich. Contractors from around the country are coming to towns like Sayre, Pennsylvania and driving hotels to charge astronomical rates.  All the direct and indirect financial impacts of fracking are beneficial to the towns and states where it is allowed--which is not in New York state, yet.

Coming from an economy recently revitalized after timber industry's exodus from Oregon, I wonder what will the state, regional, and local governments in these communities do to protect their children's economy when the gas has all been fracked?

Immediate consequences in sight; what is happening to prevent a gentrification of local residents, since the cost of housing, temporary and long term, are and will increase as more people relocate for the higher paying opportunies?  As this new industry flourishes at the expense of the local community, I hope a visionary will insist on using then new revenue to address an increase in homelessness, advance the infrastructure, and find long term economic sustainability beyond the finite resource of natural gas.

This is my soapbox, thanks for listening.

Big city, big city nights.

In a whirlwind fashion we made it to the big apple. At 5,500 miles, we could have easily traveled from shore to shore and back; but no one planned on this being easy, nor is this task meant to be an efficient use of land.  As we rolled our bikes off the ferry into Manhattan--yes, we took a ferry--a reflection of the past four months brought a few mixed emotions forth.  This is indeed a large country, with much to see, but its not that big.  As a matter of fact, it is not big enough to keep us from riding our bikes across it.  On the other hand, it did take us four months, countless--ahem--spokes, and many other interesting figures which we did not keep track of.

Since the beginning of this nation, New York City has been the cradle to many cultural pieces of our nation.  What once was the epicenter of new beginnings, remains today a global destination. Artists of all walks, from around the globe, flock to the city that never sleeps for a shot at exposure.  Striving business folk look to this, the financial center of the world, as the model of success. Needless to say, New York City is a happening place to be, which is why the streets are overflowing with tourists from far and wide; Oregon included.

As I become an experienced traveler, I find myself less interested in the legendary landmarks of a place, and more interested in the way of life. Contradictory as it may be, pretending to be a resident of a new city and doing things accordingly is the favorite way to see things.  Dining at popular restaurants, picnicking in less traveled parks, and walking through the neighborhoods where the real people live; essentially doing the things one would do on a weekend.  This is how I really saw NYC for the first time, even though it was my second visit.

I'm not only lucky enough to have a friend who lives in Brooklyn, but also to have the most hospitable of friends live in Brooklyn.  Dina managed to host, guide, and socialize with us, while she simultaneously studied for and completed finals week at NYU.  Having her, and her roommate Carter as our hostesses, we had an even more complete experience of NYC living. Thanks ladies.  To make things even better, our arrival timed just right to have a visit from my favorite person in the world, who has now made four appearances along the way, thanks to Henry Ford and the Wright brothers.

As I mentioned previously, arriving in the city brought to the surface a number of reflections and emotions.  Since our route home will be direct, our geographic apex represents approximately two thirds of the total distance.  As I see the end of this adventure coming closer, I find myself thinking more about the next step. Mainly what to do, but also where to do it.  The uncertainty of life at this juncture has provided an insight to each place we visit, one that has opened my eyes to new places significantly more than if I were to be riding home to a certain future.  My appreciation for each place we visit, and the country as a whole have benefitted from said status. It's easy to obtain skewed perceptions of the outside while resting comfortably and certain at home--especially if that place is Portland and you fit in.

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New York City is where we three travelers reduce to the dynamic duo, as our friend Kane makes his way to the holy land.  This means we will spend the next week or so recalibrating our oatmeal proportions.  Godspeed buddy, it's been a pleasure.

Fixing our budget woes.

There are a handful of reasons to avoid major metropolitan areas while on tour, but our 'homelessness' is the predominant factor. Cheap or free parcels of land are few and far between in heavily populated areas; D.C. has one surprising exception. Just 10 miles out of town is Greenbelt National Park, which provides the safety and seclusion of any national park campground for $16.00 per night. No youth hostel, at over $20.00 per person can compete. It's a wonder this camp ground isn't consistently full of D.C. sightseers on a budget.

When we departed in April, we could foresee the looming debt crisis and the stifling political split our government was facing. Although our trip has been told as a mission to see and learn about the continental US, this was merely a guise to distract from our true mission: To make an offer to Congress, of which no politician could refuse. Unfortunately, mere days before our arrival, the stalemate was ended and the session closed, leaving us without a forum in which to solve the great debt crisis. I suppose there will always be next time. As our consolation, we enjoyed free ice cream provided near the Capitol Building as promised by one of our great legislators, to celebrate the solution, like it or not.

In addition to the typical Washington Mall sight seeing, frisbee in President's Park, and a casual museum visit; one of the greatest anecdotes of our day in the capitol happened by chance near the north side of Obama's fortress. As we turned right onto Pennsylvania Ave., a sizable group of cyclists were turning left from the opposite direction. We naturally grafted into the group, joining the Friday evening Critical Mass. This turned out to be an extensive, relaxing view of the city from the inside of a crowd of pedal powered locals. This kind of experience can't be planned.

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The four hundred miles between D.C. and New York City led us through Maryland, Delaware, Pennsylvania, and New Jersey. In this stretch, we saw more than enough highly traveled thoroughfares to satisfy any trip across the country, too few campable parks, and not enough interesting scenery to document. We did, however, sleep in an old Quaker schoolhouse, and learn much about Goretex as a brand and as a miracle material; all thanks to the unconditional generosity of complete strangers. I can't show enough gratitude for the people out there who understand and want to be a part of this experience.

In our time between D.C. and NYC, I felt the need to rest and spend some time away from the painstaking task of IPhone typing and blogging. I'm now recovering my journalistic motivation, and will bring you thoughts, stories, and most importantly, photos from the big apple shortly.

Thanks for reading.

C&O

If you were so inclined, as many people are in the summertime, you could ride a bicycle 330 miles from Pittsburg, PA to Washington, D.C., all on designated bicycle/pedestrian trails. This combination of The Great Allegheny Passage, a rails to trails from Pittsburg to Cumberland, MD; and the C&O (Chesapeake and Ohio) Canal Towpath, a canal to trails from Cumberland to D.C., makes the perfect practice route for any aspiring long range cycle tourist.

Leaving Snowshoe, WV we opted to add a few miles and cut north to Cumberland to enjoy the 184 miles offered by the C&O Canal. Along this stretch, there are 30 campsites, most of them free, and plenty of drinking wells to enjoy the local water table. For us this route offered three days of somewhat relaxed riding before reaching the east coast confusion of population. Along the way, we also had the opportunity to visit the Antietam Battlefield and see a few civil war relics.

The C&O Canal, as is obvious in its namesake, was suppose to connect the Chesapeake Bay to the Ohio river, creating a shipping lane from the east coast inland. Unfortunately, the construction took too long, and before the canal crossed the eastern continental divide, it was obsolete. The railroads were much easier to build, and more efficient to operate. Riding along the Towpath, it's easy to imagine how close the canal was to it's more efficient sibling; it follows the slow grade of a river, requires relatively little land to operate, and it took a significant amount of imported Chinese labor to build.

The most amazing part of riding the C&O Canal is the end in D.C. For those headed into D.C., the days of isolated sanctuary end abruptly no more than two miles from the White House and the Washington Mall, in Georgetown. Our arrival ended three days of riding on the gravel Towpath sans modern amenities. Needless to say we were dirty and smelly; the storm on the final evening was mere icing on the cake of our hygiene troubles. So, what better way to immerse three travelers into Capitol life than to occupy window space in a corner of the small Subway in Georgetown?

More on D.C. soon.

Wild, wonderful, West Virginia.

West Virginia seemed to begin as another hot and humid state, but as we turned uphill and into the lush mountainsides, the east coast heat wave dissipated into fresh mountain air.

One thing is for sure, West Virginians love their state. Most cars have WV stickers, either showing support for their college, or more likely pride in their homeland. As we rode across the state, honks, smiles, and thumbs up from motorists indicated the general excitement for our adventure and its passage through their great land. As usual, our routine stops were accompanied by the routine questions regarding our tour. However, the people of West Virginia had a unique excitement and awe for our accomplishment/ambition, which has yet to be seen. Perhaps this is because Oregon finally seems so far away, or perhaps because West Virginians embody a paralleled passion for outdoor adventure. Either way, tooth count should never be an indicator of the quality and richness of life. The Deliverance references which commonly represent West Virginians are misleading to say the least. It would be unfortunate for anyone to miss out on this beautiful state because they fear dueling banjos. As it was mentioned, "Oregon is the West Virginia of the West."

In the middle of our trek across, we took some much needed rest days in the hometown of our dear friend Emily in Snowshoe. Her and her parents were the most gracious of hosts, sharing their beautiful place, providing meals, and letting us lounge around lazily on their furniture like a bunch of freeloaders. Emily showed us her favorite swimming hole, took us to wing night in town, and hung out while we reloaded our batteries. Thanks guys.