Now I Know Why Vermont is Called the Green Mountain State
My Solo Cycling Trek to Canada from Western Massachusetts
By Shane Robitaille
The Big Idea
I started planning a bike ride to Canada when I was about eleven years old. My best friends and I used to pour over maps trying to find the perfect route from western Massachusetts to Canada. Should we go through New York or Vermont? Should we go to Niagara Falls or Quebec? It didn’t really matter where we ended up. Just the idea of going to a different country on our bikes and getting our passport stamped was enough. We even made our own passports and carried them in our back pockets, just in case we decided to spontaneously head north for the border!
It didn’t matter that we all had single-speed Huffy bikes with banana seats, that we didn’t have any money, or weren’t old enough to get real passports. We had concocted the perfect adventure and, in the minds of hyperactive adolescent boys with over-drive imaginations, we knew we could do it, regardless of what the woulda, coulda, shoulda adults said.
Well, as with many dreams of youth, the cycling trek to Canada took a back seat to other practical endeavors. In fact, I had forgotten all about it until the summer of 2013, during a century cycling ride with my good friend Ken. We were about halfway through our route, planning the next fifty miles over ice cream at a small café in Brattleboro Vermont, when two young guys stopped in front of the café on gleaming new bikes, loaded with bags and looking at their maps. They told us they were on their way to Canada from Connecticut. Listening to their enthusiasm and wide-eyed excitement as they described their journey, I couldn’t help but wonder why I didn’t do a trip like that ten or twenty- years ago. These young adventurers were doing it right, I thought.
A few years before careers and starting families, these guys were stretching their comfort zones and realizing their dreams. It was on that fifty-mile ride home, thinking about those guys and their cool expedition, when I remembered the big idea of my youth so many years before. From that moment on, I spent just about every day for the next ten months thinking about that dream and making it a reality.
The Preparation
Preparing for the longest ride of your life when you’re in the 40+ club isn’t easy under the best circumstances. Add two jobs, kids’ sports and a New England winter and spring, and it’s a challenging proposition for sure. Thankfully my girls enthusiastically endorsed the whole crazy idea and tried to help with everything. From pouring over the extra large AAA maps, to helping me organize my packing list, to putting up with my pre-dawn workouts in the gym, my girls were a big part of planning. I could never have left the driveway without their enthusiasm and support.
Although I tried to get on the road as much as possible, my work schedule, my girls’ sports activities and lousy weather kept me mostly in the gym. I wasn’t a big fan of indoor cycling as a replacement for the real road but I soon learned to like it. Indoor rides were intense, using the “Rolling Hills” option and ranged from 30–60 minutes, depending on how much time I had. Outside training ranged from short rides with my girls, up to 50 miles by myself or with my friend, Ken. I never had the time to do the longer rides that I felt I needed to do so I tried to make up for it in intensity.
The Route
Basically leave my driveway and cycle north for almost 300 miles, up Route 47, to Route 63, to Route 119 and then Route 5. The topography for the route is unrelenting rolling hills and mountains.
Notes from the Road
Day 1 — Bring it On!
I left my driveway at about 8:30am. I had no idea if my limited training over the last three months was good enough to propel me through three states and into Canada in four days. Ten miles into the ride I stopped at the Starbucks in Amherst, MA for a stellar cup of Joe.
On the not so good side…The day was perfect for riding and I was making excellent time when, about fifteen miles from my first destination, my GPS took me to the middle of nowhere, on miles of dirt roads, where I ended up on a closed dirt “road” with small rivers running through it, in the middle of a forest, carrying my bike and gear for two miles, while an army of mosquitos had a field day with me. Thankfully I finally found a faint cell connection on my phone and Google Maps got me back to civilization. Lesson learned…stick to my printed and laminated directions!
On the really good side…I eventually made it to the first stop of the trip and it’s a beautiful night. I’ve got a whole B&B to myself!
You’d be amazed how many people wave to a cyclist when they have bags and gear on the bike. All day long people waved to me as they mowed lawns, hung laundry out to dry, from cars, etc. Pretty cool.
This is the first time I’ve ever taken a “vacation” without my girls. Although I’ll see them by week’s end, I miss them terribly.
June 16th, 2014
Day 2 — Duct Tape, New Asphalt and Big 80s Music
On the not so good side…about five miles out, my bike rack, which holds the panniers, which contain all of my gear, loosened up and started rubbing against the rear tire. No problem! I have a cool bike toolkit! Too bad none of the wrenches fit! I called my good friend, Matt, who works up in Putney Vermont, and he showed up within a few minutes. Although he didn’t arrive with any tools that would help, he did bring duct tape! So, thirty minutes later I was on my way with duct tape holding the whole damn thing up! Almost 25 years ago, Matt and I used duct tape to repair the bumper on the car we were driving across country!
About 20 miles later, I noticed that the potholed filled road was suddenly jet black, smooth and brand-new! This was great news after endless miles of bumps and potholes. However, my euphoria faded quickly when I realized the new road was literally being made just ahead of me! The road crew was just a quarter mile up the road. My tires started sticking to the road and globs of wet tar were flying everywhere. The cars driving past me were spitting up the new asphalt everywhere. Obviously the road should have been closed but it wasn’t. Eventually the road crew stopped traffic. The cars were sinking a few inches into the wet asphalt. It was a total tar-fest.
At this point both of my tires and rims were covered in sticky tar. Traffic was stopped. Irritated drivers were getting out of their cars to survey the damage. I had two options: Walk on the side of the road, for an undetermined amount of distance, until the end of the new road. Or, ask the guy in the pick-up truck, who was sitting in the stalled traffic, if I could sit in the back with my bike. He said yes! So I got a lift for a few miles until the new road ended. I jumped out of the truck, got my bike, thanked the guy and walked to a nearby truck stop.
I ended up cleaning my tires and rims with a hairbrush, and managed to get most of it off, but the tires were still covered in a sticky residue. I was concerned that every sharp pebble and piece of glass would stick to my tires. I went online to see if there were any bike shops around. It turns out there was a bike shop about forty miles away in Norwich, Vermont, which was my next destination! I called to see if they could change out the tires. They said that they could but that I would have to be there before 6pm. They also said that I could call them if I got into a jam on the way there.
So, for forty miles, I crossed my fingers, entertained the Vermont wildlife with some singing of big 80s songs (Don’t you want me baby? Don’t you want me, oh, oh, oh!), and hoped I wouldn’t get two flat tires on the way there.
I made it into town 15 minutes before they closed! They felt bad for me, and gave me a discount on the tires. Thankfully the B&B was only a few miles down the road.
After an amazing meal, and the first beer in about a year (Wow, was that really good!) I am recharging and good to go!
I’ve met some pretty terrific people on this trek. I’ve had a few strangers help me out along the way, showing that, despite what the 24-hour cable news channels say, there is no shortage for decent and good people.
June 17th, 2014
Day 3 — A Time Machine, No Starbucks and On Top of the World
With two new tires, a king-size breakfast and a little too much coffee, I left the comfort of the Norwich Inn and followed the winding Connecticut River, heading north via Route 5, a road that time forgot. Replaced by Interstate 91 a long time ago, traveling up Rt. 5 is like a time machine. All along the way you see mountains, farms and remnants of yesterday’s industries. The road turns into the “Main Street” for several tiny towns, each with a post office, gas station, library, white-steeple churches and general stores with rusted Coca-Cola signs. Each town has its story, history and hardworking people trying to get by. Although time has forgotten most of these places, the people who live and work here are quick with a wave, a smile and a story.
About 40 miles into the day I lost cell coverage but for some reason, Siri still worked on my iPhone. Under the searing sun, and wishing for an iced coffee, I jokingly asked my phone where the nearest Starbucks was. With the nearest Starbucks almost 25 miles away, and next closest almost 50, I fully realized just how rural and out of the way this part of the northeast is. Man, an iced caffè Americano would have been absolute heaven!
The first day without any mechanical issues. The duct tape that Matt and I used yesterday to fix the bike rack is holding up! Despite the wind and relentless green mountains, I made great time, with plenty of sunlight to spare.
When I started out this morning I could see the looming mountains up north, miles away on the horizon. Cycling up mountain after mountain after mountain, I was learning and experiencing why Vermont is called the “green mountain” state. As the sun moved from the east to the west and my bike’s shadow grew long, it occurred to me that I had ascended just about as high as I was going to get, with spectacular views of mountains and valleys below. Wow!
One cool thing about cycling almost two hundred miles in three days, and burning thousands of calories, is that you can eat and drink anything you’d like!
Three of the toughest physically demanding days of my life. My knees are starting to curse me and various aches and pains are reminding me that I’m not twenty anymore. But that’s what ibuprofen is for!
Missing my girls but they cheer me on when I talk to them on the phone.
About 200 miles down. Arriving in Canada tomorrow. Bring it.
June 18th, 2014
Day 4 — Carpe Diem
I made it! About 280 miles in the last four days. And let me tell you, it’s all uphill! Holy smokes, I’ve never climbed so much, so many mountains, so many miles in my life. One thing is for sure, all the uphills certainly make you appreciate the downhills when you get them.
Taking a few days to cycle long distance by yourself, where every day brings you to places you’ve never been before, meeting new people, gaining new experiences, working for every mile traversed, traveling through time and space and other people’s regular weekdays, you start to forget about what day it is, what time it is, your logins and passwords, what’s happening in the Middle East, the daily changes of gas prices, etc.
On a long cycling trip you develop a routine that most efficiently gets you and the machine to the next destination. From how to pack the bike every morning to where you put the plastic baggies (in case of rain), it all impacts the ride.
Although this trip was a solo one, and for the most part I was self-sufficient, I learned to rely on other people for basic things like directions, where you can charge your phone, where to get food and water, amongst other things. It’s a kind of connection with people and the environment that only a long walking or cycling journey can create.
Arriving in Canada early this evening, I’ve come to appreciate that it’s the JOURNEY, not the destination, that’s the BEST part. From the first time that my girls and I looked at a map last winter to start planning this crazy adventure, to gagging on a gas station “sandwich” in the middle of nowhere earlier today, all of the preparation, training and every single mile of the trip was an experience of a lifetime.
The last five miles of the trip I purposely slowed down and tried to really look, listen and smell the early evening of this amazing summer day.
No speed or distance records were broken, no money raised for a charity, no wars were prevented, no cures for deceases found, but I know that this was time well spent. I will remember this when I’m an old man and, thinking back, I’ll be glad that I seized the day and made the most of being young(ish). And, although it was the one of the most physically challenging things I’ve ever done, I’d do it again without hesitation. I’m thinking when my kids are older that a cross-country cycling trek is in order. Heck yeah!
Back to the regular world soon. I can’t wait to see my girls, throw a ball for Hershey (the dog) and wear normal pants again!
Ferris Bueller once said, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around, you could miss it.” Wise words indeed.
Live, laugh, love, find adventure, and drink good coffee.
Carpe diem. Always.
:)
June 19th, 2014
Take a walk on the wild side and check out my latest book, Punk Rock Soul, available for $7 on Etsy and ships worldwide.
