No sooner had we all learned how to say “Schenectady” than we were heading off along the Mohawk River on a circuitous path towards the state capital of New York, Albany. It was a drizzly departure, and the grey, damp conditions continued for much of the day. I really can’t complain though, since this is only the third day out of 41 that I have seen even the lightest precipitation- and considerably more days than that if you count back before I started cycling. It has been a glorious summer wherever I have been.
Albany
In this weather there were not many photos taken and few stops made. But it wasn’t unpleasant or lacking in interest. Albany turned out to be much larger and older looking than I had expected. It sits right on the Hudson River, which the Mohawk River had joined, sending us emphatically in a southward direction towards New York City. This is a seriously large body of water with big boats on it. There are not so many bridges, either, which became an important feature of our day a little later on.
After 30 miles we were ready for lunch in Albany and found a wonderful example of an old fashioned American style diner. It was just what we needed and we happily sat there until all the chairs had been placed on the tables, long after finishing our omelettes, fried potatoes and toast. I had my first marmalade in many weeks, which made me happy.
Up there somewhere was our route. We missed it.
We easily regained the riverside bike path but somehow missed the fact that the Empire State cycle route crossed over the only bridge – I’m not sure how that worked, since it was a freeway – and continued on the east bank of the Hudson. Instead we began riding along the western bank, through the industrial port area south of downtown, and only realised the error of our ways when we were several miles down the moderately busy road. A decision was required and I made it. I’m not one for turning around and retracing my steps and I could see the exciting prospect of a ferry ahead if we went this way, which swayed me. Simon graciously went along with my choice.
It continued to be moderately busy for perhaps another half an hour and then, mercifully, and for no obvious reason, all the traffic melted away and we enjoyed a delightfully quiet, undulating ride down the Hudson valley, past a series of large and characterful homes set in green countryside. The drizzle came and went.
No ferry today
A little after 5pm we reached the small, pretty town of Athens, from where Google Maps told us there was a ferry that would cross directly to Hudson, on the opposite bank, where were staying tonight. Perfect. Only it never came and a phonecall revealed that it only runs at the weekend! Not so good. In fact, we could see a bridge a little further downstream and it was less than an hour round trip to cycle over it and back up to Hudson. The crossing of the “Rip van Winkle Bridge” was quite exhilarating, and we arrived at a delightfully appointed Airbnb in an old parsonage in Hudson just ahead of the ladies with our bags and our dinner in the support car. And thereafter unfolded a most enjoyable evening of eating, drinking and card-playing, and general agreement that in other circumstances we would happily stay longer in this wonderfully furnished, arty 3 bedroom apartment.
