Mark has instructed us to be ready for breakfast at 9. We don’t know what exactly that entails, but we eagerly await his knock on the door. Expecting to be led downstairs to the eat-in kitchen, we are instead escorted to the driveway. Parked outside is one of Mark’s limousines: another Rolls-Royce. This is a surprise, to be sure! He chauffeurs us to the main drag of town and parks outside the local diner that had already closed by the time we rolled into town last night. The second surprise: he’s treating us to breakfast! We give him a surprise as well; when he asks how our bums have been faring with all this cycling, we tell him about our new wardrobe addition (or really subtraction), and he lets out a thundering guffaw only befitting of someone with such an epic mustache. No one else in the diner bats an eye, they are clearly used to him and his vivacity. Favorite quote overheard at breakfast: “They have callouses on their asses!” How does he know?
Once we are sufficiently full of omelette, we are driven back to the mansion to pack up. Marty hoses off the bikes. Becca stops at the post office to ship home some items we’ve deemed extraneous. It’s good to have a little more space in our bags and fewer ounces of gear for the time being. She holds on to her book, still optimistic that maybe there will be time to read. Spoiler alert: There won’t be. We’re writing this on the Metro North back to CT Sunday, and she didn’t crack it once, not even on the 10+ hour train rise from Buffalo to NYC.
The cycling begins with a return to on-road riding along old route 31. Here again there are discrepancies between what Google Maps thinks is Empire State Trail and what the turn-by-turn directions from the EST website say to do. We eschew both and do what has served us best so far: follow the mustard- and blue-colored road signs designating the trail.
We ride for a long while before stopping for lunch long past our halfway point. Monday is clearly a dark day in Palmyra. The recommended spot for vegetarians closed 15 minutes before our arrival and other restaurants aren’t open today. Fun fact: this town is thought to be the birthplace of the Mormon Church and features many historic buildings. We just want a place to sit and eat our leftovers, so we settled into an outdoor picnic table at Mark’s Pizzeria. On the box it says they’re “simply the best.” It’s fine. The townsperson we talked to had recommended the other pizza place. To be polite (and to be able to use their bathroom), we order some mozzarella sticks and clandestinely eat our leftover pizza from last night alongside them. A gaggle of blonde toddlers gawk at us from inside.
The riding in the afternoon hugs the Erie, but becomes more scenic as we pass many small towns whose names end in “port” and watch passenger boats pass under their adorable bridges. In Fairport we are greeted by an exciting sight: a banner reading “Cycle the Erie Canal.” We learn that a large group of cyclists has just left Buffalo heading the opposite direction. Most of them are crossing paths with us in Fairport. We take a long ice cream break and Marty has a walk around while Becca meets virtually with her therapist. Only 7 miles to go until tonight’s hotel in Pittsford, on the outskirts of greater Rochester.
The best part about the Hilton Garden Inn was that the pool was open! Relaxing in the hot tub is just what the doctor ordered. Remember when Becca was held captive by a timeshare salesman last time we booked with Hilton? Well this time she had the wherewithal to simply “go ahead and give me the pitch, I’m only here for the points” and proceeded to put the lady on speakerphone, mounted to her bike while she continued to ride. We were also enticed by an offer of 500 points for spending $25 at the hotel restaurant. Challenge accepted. You don’t become Platinum Elite® by skipping out on these opportunities. Favorite quote overheard at dinner: “Before you have children it’s important to have health insurance.” Preaching to the choir, dude!
