Riding the Adirondacks



I kept moving on and back out into the wilderness again trying to make good time to Hamlin. As I rode I knew I had reached the mileage where it was time to lube the chain, in fact I was overdue and the rain I just went through didn’t help either. The chain was really starting to sing now and if Hamlin didn’t show up soon I’d just have to stop somewhere to address it. Everything above Hamlin here I didn’t know and so for all I knew each town was going to be it. Headley, Pink, (that’s a town?) Lake Ariel, and finally…Hamlin.

There’s not a whole lot going on in Hamlin as far as I know besides one of the most humane zoos I’ve ever visited (Claws & Paws) and a cool mini-golf course. So, if you’re ever up Hamlin’s way, be sure to take the kids to the zoo. But for me this night in Hamlin is everything. From here I now knew exactly how much further I had and there was enough things lit up to find a place to work on this chain. I called my wife to let her know I made Hamlin and then got to work on myself with these wet clothes. I fixed the jammed zipper and changed into dry shirts. I then grabbed some peanuts and raisins before getting my hands dirty with the chain.




Once the chain was done I was all zipped up, dry, and ready for whatever nature had for me on this last leg. The last stop was going to be the old train station in Tobyhanna where I’d call home once more.

As I headed down 191 out of Hamlin I waited for the expected drop down towards a stream and then its sudden rise again. As I reached the stream area the fog began to break and there it was above, a star! Not just one star but the entire sky was clear. I looked east and there was Jupiter just like the night before, the car in front of me pulled off just leaving me to carve my way down to Tobyhanna. The bike seemed very quiet at this point due to the fresh lube and the dual headlights of the Strom sliced through the darkness as I kept my eyes open for the eyes of deer reflecting in the trees. At least the ride ends in this way, alone, gliding through familiar territory under the stars. In what seemed a very short time I reached Tobyhanna and pulled into the train station (now a museum) to report in that the rain was gone and I’d be home in 30 minutes. It’s been 10 hours now since I left the campground in Peru, NY and even a nut like myself had had enough of this.

As the last mile or so came up it began to hit me that it was over. It was a tiny ride compared to what’s been done by others, but big for me since I haven’t had this much adventure since my week long bicycle tours when I was in my 20’s. I’ve been on motorcycle trips like this before but they didn’t come with a storm like that. And so where I was glad to be pulling into my neighborhood I was already thinking where I can go the next time. Spending your days in a cubical only to go home and wait for the news to tell us what the latest thing to be afraid of is can make you a member of the living dead. There’s nothing like a little adventure to breathe life back into you. Whether it's a solo motorcycle trip, a canoe trip with the family, etc., turn the TV off and stop watching the adventure, rather, be in the adventure. After cleaning up, getting changed and saying my hellos to the family, I sat with my younger son watching the Yankees erase a Red Sox comeback and go on to complete a four game sweep of their rivals and thought again about grandpa. I picked up my glass of bourbon and took a sip to a successful trip and another one for grandpa.


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