Oneonta to Phoenicia

The hotel had seen better days. Never use Hotwire.

 The night before leaving Bugs and I witnessed the burgeoning romance between a single Mom working the bar at the Holiday Inn and and a railway engineer stationed there. In the poor excuse for a bar, hastily fashioned in a randomly corporate space, the chemistry was palpable. It was like something from a country music video. But enough of romance.  Jeff and I set off the next day, completely sure of our route, confident nothing could go wrong. About twenty minutes into the ride we hit some major hills. The legs were still jaded somewhat from the day before and we both exchanged some suprised looks. Wasn't today supposed to be easier? Next on the menu were some wrong turns and we found ourselves in proper Catskills wilderness, riding up steep hills on unfinished dirt tracks. Too steep to sit, too loose to stand, as they say.

Jeff rides the dirt tracks

I took this picture fast as dog was going to bite me

The day had a heat advisory attached to it, and by 10am we were sweltering. With the wind blowing in our faces it was like someone had left a giant hairdryer on infront of us. We dug in, formed a mini pace line and took turns in sheltering from the wind. Progress was made. In a small town called Bloomville Jeff tracked down an uber cool little place called "Table on Ten". They made us great coffee and delicious Liver pate sandwiches we took away to sweat in our back pockets.

"Hey Muriel, these guys really smell"

Next to come was another giant climb..then descent into the Hudson valley. A real descent. About 20 minutes of the wind rushing in my ears, nothing to worry about but keeping upright and safe whilst going as fast as I can. Nothing comes close. When I surfaced again we'd almost hit route 28 and Phoenicia. I slurped Mexican Coke and a strawberry Milkshake at the Phoenicia diner.  It all felt ok again and we remembered what was good about being out there doing this kind of thing.