Miles to date: 3,827.3
We lived through the Manchester Inn experience, and that’s what really matters. The mattresses were tall and spongy, and they were higher on the corners than the middle; I don’t know if this was the original design or if the material migrated under years of use; being enveloped in this slumber sponge felt like being swallowed. To make the experience more terrifying, the fitted sheets didn’t quite “fitted”; after laying down for a bit a slight “sproing” signaled the sheet had released a corner and was starting to constrict on the sleeper. We slept well enough, but it was anything but relaxing.
Yep, there’s no wresting the Crap-Inn Cup from the owner of the Manchester Inn: hands-down winner as the worst stay.
This morning we started our day with massive cinnamon rolls and coffee on Main Street in Manchester. A young couple there asked if we were the owners of the amazing bikes parked outside. They too were bike packers, though they’d only done short trips of a few days in New England. Once again, it was nice to be approached by strangers and share a little about our journey, and in this instance offer some encouragement for them to tackle this sort of adventure which they said they’ve dreamed of doing.
With spirits lifted, the fleabag motel forgotten, and fueled by delicious baked goods and caffeine, we made a short commute through town and school run traffic to reach the Charter Oak Greenway Trail. For reasons unknown, the past few days I haven’t done much deep investigation of the next day’s route. I’d been expecting tight congested roads through these small New England states; I guess in my mind these states are so comparatively small there couldn’t possibly be any green space, let alone convenient and lengthy biking trails. So today was another fabulous surprise when we were on paved trail a few minutes from the motel.
However, as soon as we hit the trail, we were immediately onto a challenging 4-mile climb; we couldn’t recall a day when we were into our granny gears within the first 20 minutes; today’s theme was go granny early, and often. It was a hard first 55 of our 78-mile day, but the day brought sunshine, 70 degrees, no wind, and more beautiful autumn colors. Even through some of the steepest and longest climbing I found myself smiling at the beauty, and starting to revel in the knowledge that we were taking on our final challenges.
On our way into Providence Rhode Island, we were joined for a few miles by a young female cyclist who was out training for a triathlon. She marveled at our accomplishment, and we respected her dedication to the demands of the three sport racing. We had only 6 miles to ride through the city after she left us; the urban riding amongst city traffic is never any fun, but at this point nothing could dampen our spirits (even when I dropped my phone as we came into the city center).
No animals have been harmed in the filming of Pedaling Pilgrims. Well, that may not completely true: Lecy may have run over a turtle in Minnesota and I seem to recall someone wondering whether they went over a snake in the road, but we can’t confirm any animals were hurt. But today, Geeto hit a squirrel. Or I should say, a squirrel hit Geeto; there was no doubt about this incident. We were cruising along the forested trail when a lightning fast ball of grey fur scampered in from our right flank. Before Geeto could react, the squirrel was colliding into the spokes of his front wheel. I was riding behind and saw the whole thing go down. I envisioned the squirrel spinning up into his spokes, wedging into his front fork, and sending Geeto over the top as his front wheel froze; and at my close trailing distance I would ride straight over the top of him. But, somehow the squirrel simply ricocheted and skittered quickly back in the direction he came. With no blood or grey fur left behind, maybe the only injury was to the squirrel’s pride as he failed in his attempt to bring down my partner.
After dinner last night at Moonshine Alley, we went for a nightcap at Congress Tavern. As soon as we sat down Geeto ordered 2 White Russians… This was akin to when he ordered the staying power of 3 tequila shots in Livingston Montana, ordering these drinks declared “we’re in celebration mode, and you’re all apt to hear about it!” The White Russians declared, “I must break you.” As a result, I did not get this post out last night as expected as we stumbled around downtown Providence like two drunken sailors on shore leave. Through the evening as we reflected on our journey, I thought how appropriate it was for us to be in Providence tonight, symbolic of the providence that we’ve received through months of daily grind. We have been blessed to have this opportunity, and to have achieved this goal.
“By the all-powerful dispensations of Providence, I have been protected beyond all human probability and expectation; for I had four bullets through my coat, and two horses shot under me, yet escaped unhurt…”
— George Washington
And now, hours later as my right thumb hunts and pecks out letters on the phone keyboard to reminisce on the day, I’m thinking casually about the 45 miles we have to ride today to our Newport destination. In the not too distant past, this single ride of nearly 50 miles would’ve been a noteworthy undertaking, now it’s a foregone conclusion that warrants little concern. I rarely had doubts that this day would arrive, I knew we would meet the challenges to baptize our front wheels in the Atlantic, so now I’m very relaxed and serene thinking about what will be a monumental accomplishment.
For what it’s worth, here’s today’s ride:Day 54: Providence to Newport
For the Pedaling Pilgrims! Playlist today…
On part of our morning ride on the rails-to-trails path, we passed several old telegraph poles. These silently screamed out the past and the progress; once these carried wires that raced dots and dashes to bring news and direct wars; now they stand derelict and forgotten as they’re slowly consumed by the surrounding forest. But now they also signal a simpler time, when the world seemed bigger and less understood. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time to experience the challenges of our ancestors (though as I’ve discussed with Christin, I would probably end up part of Shakleton’s crew or Lewis’s expedition). Telegraph Road
I thought today I would add something about the ups and downs we experienced in our travels, both physical and emotional, but I can’t think of a song that quite conveys that. However, we did spend a little time on the mountains, spent a little time on the hills, and I like this Grateful Dead cover. New Speedway Boogie
And… today my girl is flying in to meet me in Newport. She’s been loving and gracious and helpful and forgiving… I’m glad to be able to celebrate later today with Christin on the beach after this long journey. How Far
I don’t know what to tell you to expect for the blog post after we finish today. I anticipate it will be very few words tonight, but I will provide a recap in the coming days. Thanks again for everyone who has offered kind words and prayers. We’re all but finished.
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