The Journey and not the Destination
I completed the Erie Canal bike trail after making it to Niagara Falls and Buffalo. Niagara Falls was the first major natural landmark I passed on my trip. Although I had been there once before, it felt amazing to make it so far by bike in such a short time. With New York State almost behind me, I was looking forward to seeing more unfamiliar land.
Inspired by my host, Tyler, the night before, I decided to just bike in the right direction: no plan on when to stop or where to sleep. Tyler had previously biked across the country twice. There were only a handful of nights where he didn’t camp on his trip. He would often only decide where he was going to camp as the sun started to set, looking for good, secluded areas in woods, parks, or behind baseball fields.
Hours passed as I biked 70 miles through similar scenery of small towns to my left and Lake Erie to my right. Exhausted from biking and hunger I knew I needed to find a spot to make camp for the night. I was approaching a town called Ripley and saw on my map that they had a public park. The satellite view showed huge green areas that looked adequate for setting up a tent. I turned from the straight road I’d been biking on for hours to enter the town.
The park had a small playground with a smaller pavilion for a few picnic benches. Before entering, I saw a sign reading “park open dawn to dusk” and “Only for Ripley residents” below. I grew frustrated. What happened to the small-town hospitality I had grown to expect? I spotted an older woman walking with two small children and approached her. Trying to get some answers, I asked her about the sign, and if I can be in the park as a non-Ripley resident. She thought the sign was absurd and that of course I could have dinner there. She didn’t feel as confident about camping as she did about eating dinner. After an unanswered call to the county clerk’s office, she informed me that I could sleep in her family vineyard, a few miles back down the road. Being in a non-secluded park and not wanting to deal with authority, I decided I would eat dinner and then head to the vineyard to sleep.
I just took my food bag out to avoid having to repack everything up again after dinner. I made some pasta with salt, nutritional yeast, and dangerously old, unrefrigerated, partially dehydrated beef. I wished I was thinking more when I had gone shopping before dinner because I was not too satisfied with my selection. My hunger forced me to slowly munch down a disgustingly bland meal.
I should have cleaned my camera screen before I took the photo
As I made slow unnoticeable progress on my pound of pasta, the older lady returned and told me that she called a nearby campground that charged $15 a night. I began to tell her that I would rather sleep for free in the vineyard than pay to sleep in an official campground, but she was already holding $15 cash in her outstretched hand. “I want you to have this, I like what you are doing,” she explained. My heart warmed from my newly felt pride, but I felt she was wasting her money. I debated just pocketing the money and sleeping in the vineyard anyways. But she wanted me to stay there and have a more “secure” night.
I started to quickly put my stuff away so I could make it to the site before sunset. Before I finished, a car pulled up to the park. A gray-haired man left the car and approached me. I initially thought he was the woman’s husband.
“Hi, I’m Mike,” he introduced himself with an extended hand. I shook his hand and introduced myself and explained my trip. “My sister called me and said someone was looking for a place to spend the night. She’s the county clerk. Have you heard of Warmshowers?”
I had heard of Warmshowers, the website for bike tourists to find hosts on their journeys. I had already used the site many times on my trip but specifically didn’t look at it today because I wanted to bike without a goal today. He must have thought I was a fool for trying to illegally camp when there’s a Warmshowers host down the road. I tried to explain how I was trying to wing it today. Not seeming to understand my intention, he told me to bike over for a place to stay. Feeling defeated but also grateful, I got on my bike and followed his car to his home. I reluctantly had $15 in my pocket so I guess I would have to pay it forward.