As what I call "The Year of the Bike" comes to an end and I am tying
up loose ends I finally place fingers to keyboard to write my
personal thoughts on THE trip. Thank you for reading.

Willie Weir states in an August 2004 article in Adventure Cyclist
that one is having an adventure if the answers to the following
questions are yes:  Am I beyond my comfort zone?  Am I pushing my
physical limits?  Am I taking a risk?  Well, yes, we had a true
adventure with generally no assurance of the conditions of the day or
anyone waiting for us at the end of the day with welcoming arms or,
on some occasions even a bed!

I had entertained the idea of bicyling cross-country for years and
when we finally got serious I dragged out 10-year-old articles I had
saved and reread several books on the subject.  Ken persisted and
Eric started mapping...would it happen?...could it happen?  I had
always thought I would do the ride alone because I wanted to map my
own route but am VERY glad I had companionship and still got to give
route input.  Ken, the optimist, would argue whether a day when I
thought it poured could technically be called a rainy day.  Eric was
constantly on watch for the best route, often interviewing locals for
advice.  Gail was our "eagle eye" who saw so many things the rest of
us may have missed and could often identify the flower, bird or other
animal she spotted.  Susie used her persuasive skills more than once
to get us an optimal place to stay and sometimes just a place (read
city park in Wiggins) to lay our heads.  Martin was often our scout
and was especially good at spotting places to have icecream on a
sizzling afternoon.

Like most of us, I struggle to simplify my life and make it less
cluttered.  Condensing my needs and carrying all of them on my bike
is the closest I have ever come to a truly simplified and self-
contained existence.  Did I have deep thoughts?  Sure, afew!  Did I
ponder the meaning of my life...of course...but mostly I worried
about the mundane: How much longer do we ride today? Will the weather
change?  Should I use Desitin or Chamois Butt'r?  Will I continue to
live despite some horrible roads, winds, rain, and exhaustion? And,
of course, where was the next coffee/icecream stop depending on the
weather.

Would I do it again?  Under the right circumstances, absolutely, sign
me up!  What was the best thing?  The people - my co-riders, my
family who gave me a much needed boost in Chicago, my friends along
the way, and those left behind who lived this vicariously with me and
gave me periodic doses of encouragement via email and phonecalls.
But the VERY best was the wonderful kindness and interest of
strangers whose lives connected with ours as we made our journey.

Here's an excerpt from my journal for May 25 when we rode 88 miles
from Julesburg, CO, to North Platte, Ne.:  "Strong sidewinds along
Highway 30 - we thought maybe we should have stayed in Julesburg.  I
started coping by swearing to myself (out of earshot of others)
because I was sure I was going to be blown over sideways.  I kept
looking at the sloping grassy area next to the road and reassuring
myself that it would not hurt THAT much and I would probably not
break any bones if I fell over.  After about 30 minutes I had
adjusted to the wind and felt better able to cope and stay upright,
so i did!  It took us 2 hours to get 12 miles to Big Springs where I
found two places to NOT get coffee then went into the Farmers' Coop
where I asked if I could buy a cup.  One man gave me his folding
chair and another paid for my 25 cent cup of coffee.  They seemed a
little uncomfortable and mystified by my presence but since one had
given me his chair I felt I should visit for a bit.  The town women
were all at the closed coffee shop having bible study.  Warmed up I
went out and got back on my bike."  I'll always remember the
gentlemen sitting in the Farmers' Coop in Big Springs, CO., who
allowed me to warm myself at their stove and even waived the usual 25
cent charge for a cup of coffee on a cold and windy morning, as they
represent to me the "kindness of strangers" which we encountered
repeatedly.

This will be my last report. I have encouraged the other five members to also
write summaries, so hopefully you will be getting other points of view. These
daily reports were my own way of keeping a personal journal, but I would like to
thank all of the people who took the time to e-mail us along the route. I do not
know if I could have kept them up without your support and encouragement.

I am sitting in the lobby of the Charles Inn in Bangor, Maine wondering what it
was all about. Why would six people leave their families and homes to bicycle
across a continent the size of America?

I suspect there were a lot of reasons, and that they varied for each of us. The
obvious motive for me was just to see if I could do it, but in theory I could
have cycled to San Clemente and back thirty-eight times and slept in my own bed
every night. So it must be like the song said: "They have all gone to look for
America."

Well, did we find America? In many ways yes!

Geographically we cycled from the coast of sunny California, through the
mountains, across the California and Arizona deserts, past the Utah monuments
and through the valleys, over the Colorado plateau, through the Rockies, across
the Colorado plains, through the Nebraska corn fields, up and down the Iowa
farms, past the luscious Illinois farm country, right through the center of
Chicago, up the west shore of Michigan Lake into Milwaukee and then across the
lake. We pedaled through a hot and muggy Michigan and then across the Ontario
Peninsula. I then cycled around Lake Ontario and down the St. Lawrence River
into Québec and on to Montréal, and then the lush mountains of Vermont and New
Hampshire, before riding over the hills of Maine to the port of Bar Harbor.

We were able watch the landscapes slowly change, along with the vegetation and
wildlife. For better and for worse we were able to watch the various weather
patterns come and go. I was able to cycle with deer and spy on moose.

The people we meet were just wonderful. While there were the odd few rude
drivers, the vast majority of motorists were surprisingly patient and courteous.
It was awe-inspiring how complete strangers went out of their way to be
helpful.(Even the women in Hardwick, who immediately covered her granddaughter
ear’s when she heard that we were married, but not to each other.)

We used to walk in from the road, either covered in dust and sweat or dripping
wet, into some small local eatery, and there was always a slight hush, as the
patrons tried to figure out what to make of us. But before long some brave soul
would politely ask either where we were heading or where we cycled from. As soon
as we showed any willingness to discuss our trip a flood gate of questions from
many of the less bold came pouring in. That was usually our best source of local
road information.

While some people wondered what would make us attempt such a trip, an almost
equal amount of people mentioned that they would love to some day do the same. 
I think the most common response upon hearing about the Bookends Tours was: "Oh
wow, I get tired pedaling up one hill." I was never sure if I should mention
that very often so did I. The trick is not avoiding getting tired. It is just
not minding it.

Originally, I was not worried about how six unrelated and in many ways very
different individuals would get along on a ten week trip. After all, we are all
adults. Okay, at least the other five are. From what I was told, personality
conflicts were often the bane of many a tour and I was perhaps a bit naïve about
the stress and strains a trip like this can put on patience and sensitivities.
But taking that into consideration, I though we managed really well.

In hindsight, would I have done a few things differently? Of course! It was very
easy to get wrapped up in the personnel demands the day was on me, but I never
felt anyone did anything intentionally negative, and I think that is what kept
us together.

After all we have been through together I believe there is a special bond of
comradeship that I hope will last. We will always be the Bookenders of 2005.

Before I decided on this trip I read several journals on other cross country
bicycle trips. Many had mentioned the following two things. First, the hardest
part of the trip was mental, not physical. That was true. And secondly, no one
seemed to regret it after it was over. That is also true.

So that begs the question, would I do it again. I would have to say yes, but not
for awhile. I then have to wonder if I ever did do it again, what changes I
would like, beside the obvious new route. While these might seem picayune, small
comforts often mean a lot on a tour like this.
1. I wish motels would learn that just putting a "No-Smoking Sign" on the door
to a room does not make that a non-smoking room. You need to change the carpets
and upholstery as well.
2. Extra thin toilet paper does not save money. You have to use twice as much!
3. It would be great if the road signs that indicated where the next lodging is
located were updated more often.
4. It would be nice if some bike shirts would have sunburn proof backs.
5. Why can't they make a sun-block/insect repellent mixture?
6. The operative word in the term "Roll-Away Bed" is bed, not roll-away.
7. Do any states sweep the remains of shredded steel-belted tires from their
shoulders?
8. Why cannot the technology that allows M&M's to only melt in your mouth be
applied to Snickers bars. And if that is not possible, could they provide them
with straws.
9. The term "Chicken Fried Steak" should be banned. Don't be fooled folks. It is
not chicken. Country Fried Steak, or greasy beef fried like chicken, would be
preferred.
10. How about more "Beware of Attack Sprinkler" signs.
11. If your front tire in theory rides over everything first, why aren't more of
your flats in the front.
12. Why does the same 12 ounce bottle of orange juice vary from $0.99 to $1.99
in the same state in the road side gas station stores?
13. Is instant oatmeal `real' oatmeal? No-one ever says Minute rice isn't real
rice.
14. If the space shuttle can sustain temperatures of a trillion degrees, why
can't they make a combustion proof tent?
15. What is bare bones camping?
16. Why in a perfectly rectangular motel, are some rooms bigger than others?
17. Would it be so difficult to put up a few well placed "Cyclist Must Dismount
Before Crossing These Extra Large Expansion Joint" signs?
18. Is it proper to deny a loved one Bacon Strips?
19. Why are the raisins in Raisin Bran so hard? It would appear that the same
people, who need Raisin Bran, might not have the best teeth either.
20. And seriously, there is far too much road kill on the highways. Nothing
ruined my day more than seeing a beautiful deer lying dead in the ditch.

And now, I would like to write a brief word about a serious developing problem.
Those of you who have been viewing our photos on Smugmug might have noticed more
and more pictures of Ken's dolly, Lois. I believe that Ken has become far to
involved. He even baulked at the idea of purchasing for her a male doll
companion. It would not be proper for me to go into any details, but can any of
Ken's friends say `intervention'?

In conclusion would like to thank my fellow Bookenders for their companionship,
support, perseverance and good humour. But I would especially like to thank my
wife Sharon for holding down the fort at home while I cycled across the country.
As of this morning she was still speaking to me. Although, I did get a
suspicious e-mail from Lois Horowitz inquiring as to whether my sleeping bag
would fit in the dog house.

"Cycling is not a matter of life and death. It is far more important than that!"

First of all, thanks to Eric (and sometimes Bonnie)
for all the mapping and for keeping you all informed
of our adventure. Thanks, too, to all five of my
cross-country companions who made the trip memorable.
The in-jokes, the support, the humor and the
encouraging words were invaluable. Finally, thanks to
Sheryl for saying "sure" when I aked her if it was ok
to go.

It's impossible (for me, anyway) to remember each of
the 60+ motels and campsites, each of the 100+
restaurants, bars, brewpubs, grocery stores,
convenience stores, and gas stations that provided the
fuel, and all of the weather, pavement and traffic. A
few stand out, though. Creeping up hill after hill in
Iowa in the heat, grinding though driving rain,
sailing along at 25 mph with a tailwind, riding along
canal towpaths, rail-to-trail paths, and the Glenwood
Springs bike path, and reaching the 12,000 foot
Loveland Pass were some of the highlights.

Am I glad I did it?  Of course. Why did I do it?
Because at the end of every week-long tour I always
wonder what it would be like to stay on the road,
living with just the stuff on the bike. Would I do it
again? Who knows? Perhaps.

What does it take? The will (and willingness to be
uncomfortable), the health, the time, and the money,
but mostly just the will to do it. Luck plays a major
role; we had no major injuries, illness, mechanical
problems. It sure helps to go with some good friends.
Yes, there were the inevitable minor squabbles, but
those memories will quickly fade. Since I am a student
of how leaderless groups reach a consensus, it was
fascinating to learn how six people decide on where to
eat, where to sleep, how far to travel, how fast to
travel, and even what route to take. Yes, it consumed
a lot of time, but what's time to a wanderer? Isn't
patience one of the virtues?

Ken King; Bangor, Maine; July 4, 2005; about an hour
before the flight home.

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I guess we were all hoping that the last day would be a nice easy
cruise to the sea under sunny skies and a cool breeze. But the Fates
decided differently for us.

We left Bangor under a light drizzle, one that we could feel on our
faces and hear on our jackets. The light drizzle steadily increased
all day. So much so, that by the time we reached Bucksport, we were
all soaked to the bone.

But Bucksport is not on the way to Bar Harbor. Because of traffic
and road considerations we were advised by several people to take a
longer, but less traveled route. We discovered that on a holiday
week-end there is no `less traveled' route to the sea and so we
ended up on a narrow, very hilly and busy highway in the rain. It
was just a terrible ride, but nothing was going to stop us today
(except lunch at Ellsworth).

I suppose it was better that our day was more reminiscent of the
tough days we had, because we will always remember the beautiful
times, but tend to push out of our memories some of hard weather we
had to endure. When I arrived at the Atlantic Ocean I felt like I
really earned the sense of pride I was feeling.

We officially ended our ride at the Bar Harbor Fish House Grill, or
more precisely at their bar on the ocean side dock. As word passed
through the bar people started coming up to congratulate us. Some
even wanted their picture taken with us. The owner eventually took a
group shot of us in the restaurant for his bulletin board. All I
kept thinking was: We did it! We all arrived safely across the
continent to the Atlantic Coast.

I just hope that when I am grumbling up the Torrey Pines grade and
it gets a little too hot, or when the restaurent is a little further
than the ride leader had thought, I will remember that on some wall
in some bar on the North Atlantic Coast is a picture of six
Knickerbikers with tired smiles on their faces because they rode
through cold rain, hail, light snow, terrible winds, and blazing
heat, and cycled 3,762 miles and climbed 136,027 to reach their
destination.

By the end of the ride we will have cycled over 3,750 miles, and in
retrospect, there is not a lot of the routing I would change.
However, today's route would be one for consideration.

Route 2, which had been so good to us for so long, deteriorated into
one of the worse strips of asphalt we have biked on. Not only was
there often no shoulder, but the crumbling and poorly repaired right
side of the road too often forced us out into the middle of the only
east bound lane. I apologise to all the pre-holiday week-end traffic
we inconvenienced. The road was so bad, one of Martin's
forty-five
pound panniers unhooked twice while bouncing around on the road.
That will teach him to speed.

The hot weather seemed to have passed. Even though it was in the low
seventies, it felt cool. It was very humid, and always on the verge
of rain. But all we received were a few light sprinkles.

We are now all checked into The Charles Inn in downtown Bangor. It
is an historic building with a lot of charm, even if the floors slop
a bit. I think Stephan King wrote a story about this hotel.

We all started finalizing our return plans today. In one way,
everyone is happy that tomorrow is the last day. We miss family and
friends back home. But in another way, I think we are a bit sad that
this odyssey is drawing to a close.

We set out to cycle across the country, and by this time tomorrow,
we will have accomplished that. I suppose we all had different
reasons for making the sacrifices this adventure required, and I
hope most of those reasons were fulfilled. There were some great
days and some terrible days, but tomorrow, when we all reach the
coast; the memories of the terrible days will begin to fade.

But this is beginning to sound like my summary, so I will end the
daily report here.

Just two more things I would like to add. We all went out for Thai
food tonight and there was one extra fortune cookie left on the
plate tonight. Ken figured that the "fortune" therefore belonged to
the whole group. It read:  Success is not achieved by great strength, but by
perseverance.

It did take perseverance to pedal 3,702 miles and climb 132,193 feet.

We slept in Rumford, eat breakfast in Mexico, lunch in Farmington
and supper in Skowhegan.

It seems that the remaining balance of the tour is quickly slipping
by. I have always tried to treat each day individually, but it is
hard not to see the end of the trip looming ahead.

For those that are not aware, the Bookends Tour `officially' will
end in two days when we arrive at the shore at Bar Harbor, Maine.
Some of us are planning to continue on to Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, but
since not all can make that trip, the `fellowship' will end
there.

While there are still plenty of steep New England hills to climb
under the very hot June (soon to be July) sun, the next two days
will be less than one hundred miles combined. Today I cycled sixty-
two miles. We are still basically following Route Two through the
middle of the state. The road usually has a good shoulder, but there
is a steady flow of trucks.

The country side is still lush, but not as wild as the area near the
New Hampshire border. For those that were worried I am glad to
inform you that the mosquito is still alive and well in New England.

As of today, I have pedaled 3,650 miles, climbed 129,229 feet, and
have been bitten three hundred and eighty-two times.

Correction! It was Gail and Susie who stayed in the motel in
Swanton. Bonnie camped like usual.

These last few days were supposed to be easy. I cut them back to
less than sixty miles a day, but the record heat wave has changed
all that,

We again rode most of the day in the high nineties. We had to climb
a thousand foot mountain first thing in the morning, so Susie and I
skipped breakfast and left at 7:00 AM. to beat the heat. And it
worked. We made it over the top before it started to get steamy. We
are planning to do the same tomorrow.

What also makes it so tough is the grade. While we climbed greater
elevations in the west, the roads were graded better. The old routes
through New England are just steep. Nine and ten percent grades are
common.

It is mostly the scenery that keeps me going. Today we bid farewell
to Vermont, and because we are at a very narrow part of New
Hampshire, tomorrow we leave this states as well. We have been
traveling through Moose country, but as of yet, we have failed to
spot one, and I can assure you that Gail is looking real hard. Of
course she refused to try some of my never fail moose pick up lines
such as "My what big antlers you have" or "Hey moose, do
you feel lucky today". Life on the road makes you say things like
that.

We were able to find a campground-motel facility in Lancaster, and
the usual two are in the motel, while the rest of us are in our
tents.

To get this camping spot, I have cycled 3,512 miles and climbed
122,270 feet, and have been on the road exactly two months today.
(and boy are my feet tired)

Yes you read the above correctly. We are in Maine. Although we are
still planning reach the water, at this point we can all say that we
biked from California to Maine. When the wind is just right, I am
sure I can small the ocean.

It was still hot today, but the cycling was a lot more pleasant.
While we still had temperatures into the nineties, once we crossed
into Maine the forests came a lot closer to the roads, and there was
a lot more shade, and it made a big difference. Also, Maine is not
as hilly as the two previous states, and that also helped.

WE GOT MOOSE! Yes we finally spotted wild moose. There they were,
standing by the pond enjoying the cool water and vegetation. We have
been having some problems uploading new pictures to Smugmug, but
don't worry; they will soon be up there.

Today, I cycled seventy-five miles, ten of which was unnecessary,
but were we intended to is now a real estate office, so we had to
back pedal. But I guess a few small detours should be expected on a
trip this long. How long? 3,587 miles, 125,736 feet and two months
and one day.

It was just another hot, muggy and hilly day in Vermont. Oh, did I
say hot. All the locals have been telling us how unusual this
weather is for this time of year. How many times have I heard that
on this trip?

But on the other side, the countryside is wonderful. Little green
farms surrounded by lush green mountains with quaint New England
towns every five to ten miles. Tomorrow we start to climb some
serious hills, and I hope it cools off a bit.

Gail had a lucky day today. About two to three miles from the
nearest town her front derailleur cable snapped. She was in her
small chain ring at the time, and was able to limp in to
Jeffersonville. It is a real small town, but believe it or not it
had a bike store. But the bike store was closed on Sunday mornings.
But again, as luck would have it, it was lunch time, and he was just
opening up. So she was able to drop her bike off, join us for lunch,
and when lunch was over, her bike was ready.

3,458 miles have been pedaled and 117,640 feet have been climbed.

This is it; the final leg of the trip. And in typical fashion a day
that was supposed to be easy, turn out to be exhausting. It was hot,
in the high nineties. It was muggy, and we had stiff headwinds all
day coming at us from almost dead on. Both fluid consumption and
grumbling were up.

But we managed over sixty-three miles, bid farewell to Québec, and
crossed the border into New York State at a small little known entry
point with ease. We then rode over the bridge to Vermont.

Gail and Bonnie are in a motel in the village of Swanton, while the
rest of us are camping on the shores of Lake Champlain. We will all
have breakfast together in the village and begin the hard trek
across Vermont. Why hard? Well in the words of the very helpful girl
in the Vermont Welcome Office: "Vermont ain't flat".

To get here I have pedaled 3,388 miles and climbed 113,430 feet, and
neither are over yet. And of special note, Bonnie managed three
bridges today, and one of them, the Jacques-Cartier leaving
Montréal
a big one.

Today we rode 86 miles from Watertown, NY, to Morrisburg, Ontario.
Ken deftly led us out of town as we cycled toward our first goal,
Ogdensburg (56 miles).  There we ate lunch at the Phoenix Cafe where
a local MD from a nearby office ran over bike in tow to talk to us
about his dream of cycling across the U.S. someday.  "But my wife
won't let me", he lamented.  Just then his wife walked by and told
us all that he was free to go anytime!  I almost thought he was
going to join us then and there!

The worst part of the day for me was crossing the bridge into
Canada.  It was more than a mile long, very high, and "see through"
(grated).  I knew if I rode directly behind someone and focussed on
that person I would be fine.  There was little traffic so we
started, but just as we almost reached midpoint the bridge
authorities pulled up in a truck and told us we had to walk our
bikes along the narrow sidewalk next to the railing.  The others
complied but I kept cycling, telling them that if I stopped I would
lose my lunch.  When I reached the other side I apologized to the
Canadian customs officer who knew nothing about the incident but
became very interested.  I told him I was too afraid to stop.  He
told me the bridge was 57 years old and very sturdy and I replied
that a phobia cannot be dispelled through reason.  He asked, "So,
you have an unreasonable fear of bridges?" and we went on in that
vein until he was convinced that it was OK to allow me into Canada.

We cycled on through more of beautiful Canada till we reached
Morrisburg.  We have a new routine with Martin in the lead scouting
for our bathroom stops, our "second" breakfast, lunch, and then the
all-important afternoon icecream stop.  By the way, Martin has eaten
his way almost all the way through his 10 pounds of trail mix and
has found the pair of sandals buried beneath all the other stuff in
him panniers.

I have not posted anything in the last two days, because Tuesday
and Wednesday were lay over days for me. I spent both days with
family and friends I did bike ten miles on both days visiting places
I used to frequent. Hopefully Bonnie will get some time and be able
to catch you up on how the other five spent the last few days.

Today however, I woke up early and biked to the south shore where I
waited for the rest of the group to pass by. After scarfing down two
breakfasts, they came pedaling through Dorval, Québec.  So what is
the first thing we did when we were finally reunited? Why go for
lunch of course.

We then rode on the fabulous Lachine Canal bath path that took us
all the way to Old Montréal, where we checked into our hotel. We
showered, changed, and then went for supper. Are you seeing a
pattern here?

Because our bikes are locked up downstairs, I do not know how many
miles I rode today, so I will have to catch up on the figures later.
Tomorrow is another layover day and we hope to do some sightseeing.
It is also the Québec national holiday tomorrow, so there should
be plenty of festivities.

Saturday morning we leave for Vermont and the last leg of our
wonderful odyssey.

We travelled 68 miles from Oswego to Watertown, NY.  It was a
beautiful sunny day right from the start with comfortable
temperatures and a hint of a tailwind.  Yes, there were hills but
not the steep ones of yesterday, more rollers.

We rode on NY Route 3 part of the Seaway Trail which runs over 500
miles from Messena, NY, along Lake Ontario and Lake Erie to the
Pennsylvania/Ohio border.  It is a road, not a real trail, but has
smooth wide shoulders and light traffic. Historic markers along the
way taught us about the War of 1812.  Upstate New York is beautiful
farmland interspersed with small towns.  We visited Sacket's Harbor,
founded in 1801 and site of a U.S. fort which was successful in
keeping those "hordes" from the North from invading.

Our lunch stop was in Henderson at Alexander's Corner where we sat
under a hot pink canopy at picnic benches and ate huge submarine
sandwiches.  Perhaps you'd be interested in what else I ate today:
A waffle slathered in butter and syrup, donut, juice, Gatorade,
Twinkies, candy bar, banana and chips...and I've lost 10 pounds on
this trip.  And guess what!?  I'm starving!  I'm off to get dinner.

For those that are keeping count, today I completed my third fully
loaded century, 103 miles. The mild tailwinds helped, but I think
the incentive of making it to Montréal was the prime motivating
factor.

I left Morrisburg early, and before 8:00 I found myself on this
dedicated bike path in Crystal Beach Park. The asphalt was smooth so
my bike was running very quiet. I looked up and running about thirty
feet beside me was a family of white tailed deer. I would have
stopped to take a picture, but I was afraid that any change in noise
or movement would scare them off. Eventually, they passed me,
crossed the road, and disappeared into the woods.

The ride from Morrisburg to the border was still basically along the
Waterfront Trail. It passed along some old canals and through some
riverside parks near Cornwall, and for the most part stayed close to
the water.

Once I crossed into Québec, I switched to La Route verte.
Québec has over 2,000 miles of bike routing crisscrossing the most
beautiful regions of the province. It is a combination of dedicated
bike paths, and separated bike lanes that are well signed. When you
cross a road, there are even signs that direct you and tell you how
far the nearby restaurants and services are.

At one point I was pedaling on a 21 kilometres paved path along the
old Soulange Canal. There were picnic benches every 500 meters and
very few of them were empty. The great weather also added to the
participation.

Crossing onto Ile de Montréal (Island of Montreal) was a bit a
tricky, but both bridges had bike lanes.  From there I had to ride
on quiet residential streets of the outlying suburbs, because the
route headed downtown to Old Montréal and I was headed to the west
end suburb I used to live in.

I am actually staying at the home of friends looking out of a window
at my old house. I had dinner with my parents at my sister's
house last night, and for the next few days I get to rest and catch
up on office work.

Why? Because the rest of my group of merry travelers made it to
Watertown, New York, and will need at least two day to arrive. I
thought that would mean several days off the bike, but I know I will
be tempted to take a short spin around my old neighbourhood.

I pedalled 3,299 miles to get here. I know. I should have gone
around the block a few times to make it an even 3,300 miles.

Susie and Gail did a fine job of getting us out of the "maze" of
Greece and Rochester where bridges were our nemesis.  After
travelling for afew miles on a beautiful wooded bike path we had to
ride on a freeway to get over the only bridge that would get us to
the Seaway Trail.  However, we then learned that we had to go about
9 miles out of our way because another bridge is not open to
vehicles or bikes during the summer months.  Finally "on the road
again" we enjoyed the overcast sky, perfect cycling weather.

We were unfortunately reminded of Iowa and those unending hills AND
had to deal with a headwind a good part of the day.  We are getting
pretty good at drafting each other but miss Eric, our supreme
drafter.  We had lunch in Sodus at Jug's Tavern where Jug and his
wife Betty were sure we would not like their menu and tried to send
us 10 more miles down the road.  We persisted and had great burgers
and sandwiches surrounded by photo tributes to Elvis...Susie was in
her glory as she is a big fan.

Another unmentionable on this trip is who has NOT had a flat.  Well,
today the last holdout, Ken, joined the Flat Club, but only after
hitting the 3002 mile mark on his odometer...pretty darned good, I'd
say.

My odometer registered 82 miles but Martin's registered 88, mostly
because as we took our afternoon break at McDonald's (I think that's
the first time we've stopped at one) he did laps around the
building.  I was inside and every few minutes I would see him go by
and thought that he had really lost it but later learned that he was
stopping on the other side of the building to adjust his
derailleur.  We travelled from Greece to Oswego, NY, and did a LOT
of elevation.

I have a very short time to get out our news so please excuse any
typos, etc.
First of all I need to extinguish those rumors that have been flying
around.  No, Eric has NOT been voted off the island.  We miss him
and are anxious to reunite especially since we have only ourselves
to blame when we get lost.  We do sometimes feel that we are in a
very extended episode of "Survivor" but whenever a vote is taken we
each vote for ourselves to be booted off resulting in a tie and
we're all too stubborn to just leave!

We left Niagara Falls, U.S., and headed 25 miles out of town to
Lockport and the Erie Canalway Trail.  This is a crushed limestone
trail that runs alongside the canal and we were on it for about 60
miles until we reached the town of Greece.  It extends across New
York for over 500 miles from Buffalo to Albany.  We saw the locks in
Lockport and for 60 miles saw no more which tells you just how flat
the terrain is.  It travels through some lovely countryside and
little towns that could be movie sets such as Brockport and Medina.
Lunch was in Medina at Rudy's Diner which sported a menu worthy a NY
City restaurant.  It took a long time to decide what to eat.

While Eric has described his own fall from the bike he has not
mentioned those of the rest of us maybe to keep you folks at home
less worried about us.  Well, two of us have taken two spills and
everyone but Susie has had one.  Today I took my second fall trying
to dodge cars parked in the grass followed by a steep uphill.  The
good news is that panniers act like bumper pads and thankfully
protect our limbs quite well.

We cycled 87 miles and had very little elevation gain.  We stayed in
Greece, NY, which is just down the road from Mexico, Corfu, Texas
and Egypt!

While the promised sunshine never materialised, today's ride went
quite well.

It started with a substantial complimentary breakfast at the
Gananoque Inn. The ride commenced with a twenty-five paved dedicated
bike path that ran almost all the way to Brockville. From then
County Road # 2 mostly ran along the river, but still continued to
run through the main streets of great towns, like Brockville and
Prescott (pronounced press-caught). Of special interest were two
towns, Iroquois and Morrisburg, that needed to moved because of the
construction of the St. Lawrence Seaway.

Still visible along this route are the old fortifications, including
Fort Henry and Fort Wellington, built to keep those wild southern
hordes on their side of the river. Laugh as you may, but I guess it
worked. Oh wait a minute; a five person horde is headed for the
border as I type. Bonnie, Gail, Susie, Ken and Martin were five
miles from Oswego when we last spoke. They knocked out an eighty
mile day.

It makes my seventy mile day seem pathetic. I originally intended to
cycle to the ninety-five miles to Cornwall today, but there was
something about the sign for the Macintosh Inn at Morrisburg that
made me stop. Could it have been the words "high-speed
Internet"? Or maybe it was the sign that read "Father's
Day Buffet"? It is the Bookends Tour motto.

Ether way, tomorrow I should arrive in Montréal, the land of
poutine and steamers.

So far it has taken me 3,195 miles and 112,080 feet and 54 days to
get here.

I am typing this from the pub at the Ganaoque Inn. But before you
jump to conclusions, it is because the hotel's Wi-Fi signal does not
reach my room. Their signal only reaches the main building, but that
would mean pushing my heavy biked up stairs.

Today was an eighty miles day. I think I pedaled so fast, because I
was constantly under a threat of rain, and after the last two days,
I did not want to get wet again.

While I was passing through the small town of Napanee, it started to
drizzle. Since it was 11:30, I thought it would be a good time to
take lunch. Just as I was parking my bike under the awning at
John's
Restaurant (and there really was a John behind the counter) it
started to pour. It lasted for fifteen minutes. It had stopped by
the time I left, but all day I felt a mist on my face even though
there were be no drops in the puddles.

It was probably that same mist that made it feel much cooler than it
actually was. Even tough it was between the low and mid sixties all
day, I kept my jacket on. The head wind did not help either.

Today was much like yesterday with a succession of small towns.
Kingston was the largest, and in spite of the mist, the downtown
area was bustling. Gananoque is a tourist town because it is the
gateway to Thousand Islands and sits right on the beginning of the
Saint Lawrence River.

I spoke to Ken in the late afternoon and they were about five miles
from Rochester, New York. There may have been a lot of static on the
line, but I thought I heard him say that Susie was thinking about
camping. It must have been a bad connection.

As of today I have cycled 3,126 miles and climbed 111,079 feet.

If my last two reports are a bit confusing I just realized that for
some reason Yahoo posted them out of order. Oh well!

Because I was a bit ahead of the group, I had decided that if it was
raining again today, I would take a lay over day. But when I awoke
it had stopped, and the clouds looked lighter. The weather station
said there could be showers in the morning, but it would clear as
the day progressed. So off I went.

Twenty miles from Oshawa I felt a drip; twenty-two miles another
one. And I am sure you can guess the rest. By Bomanville, I dawned
my rain gear, and the volume of water steadily increased all day.
Cycling two days in the rain begins to take a toll. I was only able
to complete seventy-three miles; two many stops to clean my glasses
and wring out just about everything. Of course it did make that
Irish Pup in Coldborne seem that much more inviting for lunch.

Partly because I thought it was not going to rain today, and partly
because Country Road # 2 runs through the main street of a lot of
great little towns ands cities in this area, I decided to leave the
Waterfront Trail. A lot of this area was settled by the Empire
Loyalists. I think you folks south of the border have another name
for them.

These towns, particularly Port Hope, take in pride in preserving
their original main streets. It was like pedaling back in time.

I passed another mile stone. By the end f the day, I have pedaled
3,049 miles and climbed 110,335 feet.

It was blissful to sleep in till 8:00 am, the only time I have been up
earlier than Gail who is usually up at the crack of dawn.  We all
breakfasted at Denny's and went our various ways...some to sightsee,
some to email (me) and some to take care of the business that seems to
build up even when on an escapist (?) vacation like this.  Tomorrow we
leave to ride the Erie Canal Bike Path.

We miss you, Eric.  On the other hand, now that we've heard about
that 100+ mile day, maybe we don't miss you SO much.

Oops, forgot to tell you that we ended in Mt. Hope yesterday, a
suburb of Hamilton.  Happily, it was sunny upon arrival and our
camping gear quickly dried out.

Today we rode 53 miles to Niagara Falls but felt like we got a
preview by riding in steady rain for the first three hours of the
day.  We were on Route 20 a much busier road though still two lanes
and, yes, got splashed a lot by passing vehichles.  After lunch in
Font Hill (notice how the word "hill" in the name of a town has more
meaning when cycling) the rain stopped and we arrived on the Canadian
side of the falls with plenty of time for photo ops.

We have been very impressed with the Canadian countryside and towns.
The homes are beautiful, often of sturdy red brick to protect from
the elements, with gingerbread ornamentation.  The yards and the
farms show a great deal of pride of ownership.  So we were surprised
to arrive in the outskirts of Niagara Falls and see so
many "interesting" businesses involving massage and adult
entertainment.  The town itself reminds us of the Las Vegas of afew
years ago and I'll let that speak for itself.

However, there is a beautifully landscaped park along the perimeter
of the falls and that is where we walked taking photos all the way.
We then crossed the Rainbow Bridge to the "American" side and holed
up for a long night's sleep with NO alarm to awaken us in the
morning.  Martin is in heaven because there is a 24 hour Denny's
adjoining the hotel with lobby access.  If Martin is missing we know
where to find him!

First of all, we miss Eric and will be nicer when we reunite!  Bonnie
and Ken decided they needed another night in the great outdoors the
evening of June 14 and Martin reluctantly followed...much to his
regret.  We found a beautiful wooded campsite in the Fanshawe Park in
the city of London on the Thames.  Tents went up quickly as a
thunderstorm threatened. We dashed for our tents, dinner in hand, as
the deluge struck lasting only about 10 minutes but long enough to
get some of our supplies soaked.  We had a two hour reprieve then
rain most of the night.  Martin, our former National Park Ranger,
awoke to find a discriminating raccoon had explored his pannier
holdings.  Our little friend first tasted Martin's passport, toilet
paper, oatmeal and cell phone before settling down to finish off a
Power Bar leaving a footprint signature on Martin's clean towel.  An
incident like this would upset anyone but particularly someone of
Martin's fastidious nature.  He didn't brighten until a generous
jeweler gave him a new battery for his cellphone later in the day.
And, no, we are not picking on Martin...he has a great ability to
laugh at himself and actually helped write this.

After sadly parting with Eric the five of us cycled on to the town of
Branford where we barely dodged another downpour by stuffing
ourselves into a very small bus stop shelter for about 5 minutes.  We
decided to take a country road to our destination and cycled some of
the most beautiful rolling country hills of our trip, enjoying the
tailwind all the way.  We took a break in what looked like
the "Julian" of the area, Carlock, for rhubarb pastries and fudge.

Ken has decided that people are now viewing us as "celebrities" as
our goal is almost reached and most people react in awe when we
explain what we are doing.  That bubble got burst when we, dodging
another shower, pulled into a huge truck garage where the owner
remarked, "How long are you going to be here?  I've got a business to
run."  as we took up about 1/1000th of his work space. That's the
only time I can remember receiving a negative reaction so will take
it with a grain of salt.

We cycled 80 miles today and without Eric's fancy odometer blissfully
have no idea what the elevation gain was!

For the next few days, the daily reports will be my personal
account, as I have split off from the group for a short period of
time.

The group decided to change the route and after Niagara Falls,
follow the Erie Canal through Rochester, and travel on the south
side of Lake Ontario. I preferred to stay in Canada and visit
Toronto, but because that route is longer, I decided to pass on
Niagara Falls, and head north.

So we split up at Woodstock, Ontario, and if everything goes as
planned, we should meet up again at Thousand Islands, Ontario in a
few days. Hopefully, they will keep a record of their travels for
uploading.

Partly because of the tailwinds, and partly because I was traveling
alone today, I managed one hundred and ten miles today, and I am two
blocks from the city line of Toronto. Twice it started to rain, but
only long enough for me to put on my rain gear.

The first half of the day was through more of the same tidy farm
country, and then I entered the outskirts of Hamilton. There was a
rapid increase of in traffic, so I headed for the lakeshore, and
found a bike route that took me through Burlington, Oakville and
Mississauga.

Tomorrow I will pass through downtown Toronto and continue around
the lake. After today, I have pedaled 2,916 miles and have climbed
over 108,300 feet.

I spoke to Ken, and the rest of the group are on schedule and made
it to Mount Hope.

Toronto has a great system of bake paths that let you pass right
through downtown and out the other side. So I had breakfast near
Ontario Place on the lake, and cruised a bit of downtown.

The good thing about bike paths is that they keep you out of
traffic. The bad thing is that they can add up to twenty to thirty
percent on to the length of a trip. Today I decided to pay the
distance price because of the rain. It rained all day; sometimes
light and sometimes hard, but it never stopped. The few times the
bike route needed to use the road, the spray from the traffic was
terrible.

The other down side to bike paths is that they drop your average
speed as well, and that was especially true of the Waterfront Trail,
because it has many wooden bridges and sharp turns. The bike path
did pass right by the largest wind turbine in North America. It was
part of the Pickering Nuclear Power Station complex. It is amazing
that the wind was able to spin something that large.

Because of the rain and the slower bike oath, I was only able to
make sixty miles today. So far I have pedaled 2,976 miles and
climbed 108, 830 feet.

The rest of the group was a luckier with the weather today. Being
further south and west, the rain ended mid-day for them, and they
made it to Niagara Falls. They crossed the Rainbow Bridge are now in
Niagara, New York. They are planning a lay over day for tomorrow.

It was a relatively nice and easy ride to London, Ontario. Rain
threaten several times, but held off until after at least three of
us were tucked away neatly in our hotel. Yes, Bonnie, Ken and Martin
are camping as I type this, and at least two thundershowers blew by
on its way to the campground. I hope they manage stay dry.

I went to the bike store for my replacement wheel, but was talked
out of it by the tech who builds the wheels. He felt that if my
wheel held up all the way from Sarnia, it could just as easily last
out the trip. He said that a bad bump will bend the wheel, but
considering the weight in my front panniers, it could bend a brand
new wheel as well. A lot of components on all of our bikes are
showing signs of extreme wear, but his advice was the same, and that
was to try and use the equipment as long as it works, and then
replace all of the necessary parts after the trip. He felt that new
parts would be old shortly just because of the rigors if this tour,
so just use everything to the end. Gail did need to replace her rear
tire, and Susie needed a new chain.

It is because we three needed repairs that we ended up just checking
into a hotel, while the other three left earlier to camp.

We were again showered with free goods today. A sales person for the
Canadian chocolate bar, O'Henry, loaded us up with goodies when
she heard about our tour.

London is one of those perfect sized cities. With less than half a
million people, it is big enough to offer all of the amenities of
larger cities, but none of the traffic or sprawl. London is
surrounded by tidy farms, and the roads were nice and clean.
Tomorrow we will close the gap between ourselves and Niagara Falls.

To get to London we had to cycle 4,490 kilometers and climbed 32,866
meters, and it has taken us 49 days to get here.

Today was a day of highs and lows. We did get rained on for most of
the afternoon, but either it was a warm rain, or we are just getting
used to it, because nobody was grumbling.

After this trip is over, I will remember the amazing scenery, but
more impressive was the reaction of the wonderful people we have met
along the way. Today we had two good examples. We eat lunch at this
real small restaurant in Emmett, MI called the Main Street Dinner.
The owner heard about our trip and was so impressed that we all
received free ice cream desserts. Then later that night, when we
were checked into the Holiday Inn in Sarnia, Ontario, both our room
and the girl's room received complimentary fruit plates with a
card from the front desk staff wishing us good luck on our tour.

One of the problems we managed to overcome today was the bridge
crossing. We ended up in Port Huron, because both the bridge and
tunnel from Detroit to Windsor are privately owned, and do not allow
pedestrians or bicycles on them. You are expected to pay for a very
expensive taxi to load your bike (I think one at a time) and drive
you across. From some web research that I did, I was led to believe
that we might have better luck on one of the Blue Water Bridges
further north.

So we show up at the bridge to Sarnia, which has a sidewalk, but
were told that they no longer allow pedestrians on the bridge at
all. I suspect it has to do with 911 security. They do not want
anyone stopping on the bridge. We were sent over to see someone from
the Michigan D.OT. who informed us that we could not even ride our
bikes on the sidewalk, because it was closed, but agreed to drive
slowly behind us, effectively closing off the right lane, allowing
us to ride across the bridge. Bonnie chose to load her bike on the
truck and ride across. I should have done likewise.

And now to the low part of the day. The bridge was quite large with
a fair climb. The D.O.T. person wanted us to stick close together,
and Susie was worried about the climb so I suggested that she go
first. However, she decided to go second and I went first. At first
it appeared that they had stopped all the traffic, because there
were no cars at all as we started up the bridge, but it was probably
just a delay at the toll booths. About a third of the way across I
noticed fairly large expansion joints that were shaped like
interlocking teeth, so that the slots ran in the direction we were
traveling. Like railroad tracks I wanted to cross them at a sharp
angle and started to pull out to the left, when I noticed that cars
were starting to drive up the middle lane, so I turned back and did
not cut the angle enough. Possibly the medal or my tires were still
wet from the rain, but it all happened so fast, I could not be sure.
Within a second of hitting the expansion joint, I was on the ground,
with my bike on top of me. Evidently my front wheel slipped and fell
completely through, and was resting on the front pannier racks. I
instantly flipped over the bars followed by the rest of my bike.

Thank G-d, all I received was a small scratch on my elbow, and I
suspect the most painful part will be when I remove the band aide. I
have been having a lot of problems with that lately. But it did
damage my front wheel. I was able to limp to a bike store, The
Bicycle Shop in Sarnia, where they did the best they could to
straighten it, but the mechanic did not believe the wheel would last
very long with the weight of a fully loaded tour. They did not have
any Open Pro Mavics 36 spoke wheels, and because it was after three
o'clock and they missed the order deadline for the day, they
could not receive a replacement for two days. The owner of the shop
called several stores in London, Ontario and found one that would
order the wheel for me and build it right away. It will still take
two days, but my plan is to try and make it to London tomorrow on the
straighten wheel, and then I will only loose a half to a whole day
by waiting there. I should be able to catch up to the rest of the
group in a day or two.

I should be really upset, but when I think of how bad that type of
accident could have been, I guess a wheel and a day lost is of no
real consequence. But was are now in Canada, aye; the land of
Looneys and Twooneys, and maybe even hockey next year.

To get here we have cycled (and stumbled) 4,390 kilometers and
climbed 32,561 meters.

And yet another hot and muggy Michigan day! The locals are claiming
that this is an unusual June, and that this is August weather. Oh
joy! Fortunately it was not as hot as yesterday, and the light rain
we encountered was actually refreshing. Another favourable condition
today was a slight tailwind, and we were able to cycle over seventy
miles with ease.

But special credit goes to Gail and Susie today who pedaled close to
one hundred miles today, in order to catch up to the rest of the
group. And to Susie's credit did not call me as many fowl names
as usual. She is becoming hard core. However we still could not get
her to try Lebanese food. Instead she opted for A&W. We are working
on her.

This part of Michigan is still very lush, but also very flat. People
are again really friendly. Today we met Marty and Lisa Johnson who
stopped their car just find out where we were going, and ended up
coming to our motel room with a floor pump (always and asset) and
some tools we needed for minor repairs. They also joined us for
supper.

We also rode through Flint today. We normally try and by pass
cities, but it was Sunday and traffic was light. We are now less
than fifty miles from the Canadian border, and we are definitely in
the third period. After tomorrow I will have to give you our
statistic in meters and kilometers.

But for today we have pedaled 2,689 miles and climbed 106,199 feet,
and we have been on the road for 47 days.

Another hot and muggy day in Michigan, but at least we re-grouped to
a certain extent. We are now down to two groups instead of four.
Bonnie, Ken, Martin and myself made it to St. Johns City, while Gail
and Susie opted to stay overnight in Ionia.

We are a day and half from crossing the Canadian border, and I hope
to re-group before then. The biggest difference between the Michigan
country side and the other states we have crossed has to be the
trees. There are not just more woods, but they are thicker. I guess
all that humidity is good for something.

There have been scattered thundershowers through out the region, but
I managed not to get to the motel before one drop fell. Ken ran into
light rain, while Bonnie and Martin got wet. Gail and Susie were at
their motel just before it started to pour.

The rest of the group is looking forward to crossing over into
Canada because they believe it will be cooler. I have chosen not to
enlighten them.

By the days end I have cycled 2,617 miles and climbed 105,069 feet.

Ken King would like to announce the birth of his fourth grandchild, a
boy named Peter Ford Watson, born to Ken's daughter Julie and her
husband David on June 6th at 11:59pm and weighing in at 8 lbs. 8 oz.
For pics check out www.monkeypad.com!

I want to thank my daughter Noelle and son-in-law Craig for their
generous hospitality while we visited Chicago.  I had called ahead and
requested everyone's favorite drink whether beer, wine or soda and all
were awaiting us on that humid Chicago afternoon.  Also, a
refrigerator full of snacks were provided as our arrival anywhere does
resemble a cloud of locusts.  Craig and Noelle arrived home (he from
the airport as he was just back in town) and insisted on treating us
to a feast ordered from their favorite "around-the-corner"
restaurant.  Thanks so much from all of us.