Day 4

Wednesday July 28th: Nickerson Creek Campground, Gilboa NY -> Delhi, NY
Dist 40.60
Ride Time 4:35h
Avg Speed 8.8
Max Speed 35.7
Trip 214
Sat by the river this morning and journalled about the previous day. At this time of year the water flow was really that of a large stream but it’s clear from the wide banks that in spring flood times it fills up. The yellow sunlight rippled through the leaves, an altogether peaceful setting - rudely interrupted by the incessant whine of a chainsaw from up the valley.
Where do we go to find silence?

Sometimes during the day when I’m riding I have a thought that I find to be too compelling that I stop to write it down then, less it become fleeting and not be remembered that evening or next morn when I write about my days travels. Therefore,
Muse: What is our insatiable preoccupation with ownership? “PRIVATE ROAD - NO TRESPASSING."
Where are the signs: “CONSIDERATE GUESTS & PASSERS-THROUGH WELCOME” ??
Just now I passed by a gravel side road with a half dozen mailboxes at the turn off, with that sign posted at least 3 places I could see on either side of it. Why are we so obsessed with our privacy, and our right to defend this idea of privacy and ownership?
Muse: Cars establish the inequality of Speed : Effort.
A challenge this trip has been to Stop. Listen. Cawking crow, buzzing insect, breeze rippling tree tops.
Leaving Nickerson Creek CG today, Donald one of the employees stopped his little golf cart to chat for 15 minutes. When I told him, “I’m going ‘til I reach saltwater at the Pacific -- Oregon” he expressed disbelief as to why anyone would want to bicycle that far. I told him that even he could do something similar, at which he scoffed: “Maybe when I was younger - I turn 50 this year.” I don’t really know how to react when I encounter these folk who take such a fatalistic attitude about their life - I want to infect people with my enthusiasm and energy! And maybe they are, but it’s I who walk away with the clinging feeling of their melancholic doldrums?
There was a long, 1 mile long hill that I descended from Grand Gorge into Gilboa last night so I decide to take a county road west for the first 7 miles or so, and hopefully avoid climbing back up that. Boy was I wrong! Instead of condensing my climbing into that 1 mile, I had instead chosen to climb and ride back down that same elevation threefold! Another field experience showing that Heitke-shortcuts aren’t always so short nor efficient. It was a very nice, quiet road with few vehicles, though!
After that, the terrain finally started to flatten out!

Stopped in Stamford for some groceries, while waiting in the checkout line this caricature of a New York grandmother, with her daughter carrying young grandchild in arms, pushed ahead of two other customers and myself - “We’vea only get two ihdtems!” - and then proceeded to animatedly gush about her new grand-daughter with the clerk for several minutes. After they had sped out of the store at the speed of two Olympic race-walkers, all of us left standing in the cloud of talcum powder and perfume couldn’t do anything but laugh.
I reached Delhi (Dell-high - the continuation of butchering pronounciation of foreign country cities continues and is not solely relegated to Minnesota where I lived near Milan/My-lawn for a summer.) Anyways, where was I? Yes, Delhi in the evening and found a campground that a local fellow described as “only a mile, at most two, out of town along that road” (Actually was 6 1/2 miles.) They had a simply DELIGHTFUL 1/4 mile gravel road that was more pebble and small rock than gravel or road - nothing I like more than ending my day than pushing my fully loaded bicycle up a steep hill for 1/4 mile!
It was worth it though, I was the only guest in the entire campground - a very slow year the older woman who owns it told me. The bathroom and shower building was simply magnificent, lumber that they had saw-milled themselves evident by the saw-teeth grooves, some of the boards 3/4 sawn with one side bark and branch knots still evident. I even peaked into the womens side and there was a divan to sit at!