Day 40: Evangola State Park, NY to Uncle John's Elk Creek Campground (Near Lake City, PA) - Travels with Little Debbie - CycleBlaze

June 21, 2008

Day 40: Evangola State Park, NY to Uncle John's Elk Creek Campground (Near Lake City, PA)

86.34 miles, 6:31:48 Ride Time, 13.22 Average Speed, 30.8 Maximum Speed

I slept well in the tent, although I was awakened briefly around midnight when some campers arrived by car and noisily set up.

I was up around 6:30, but because I took my usual long time getting everything packed up, I wasn't ready to ride out until 8:00. Before I left, I stopped in the campground office, where two women were working this morning. I had contemplated taking a rest day today, but had changed my mind, and I needed to tell them that I wouldn't want the site again after all. I took a Faygo out of their cooler, and was getting ready to pay, when I thought to tell them how one of the machines had taken my money yesterday, and the guys working in the office then wouldn't refund it. "You mean those boys?" the woman asked as she rolled her eyes. She told me to just take the Faygo. Hopefully "those boys" will receive a tongue-lashing for their poor customer service...

It was warm and sunny, and for the first time in several days I didn't wear my arm warmers or jacket - it felt good. In a few miles I rode onto State Route 5, which runs mostly along Lake Erie, and on which I would remain for virtually the entire day, and soon after that I was briefly in the Cattaragus Indian Reservation, where the only obvious change was the heavily advertised opportunity to buy cheap cigarettes.

It continued to be flat, easy riding through the small towns of Irving and Silver Creek, and then through the larger Dunkirk (pop. 13,131). Later, after about thirty miles, I encountered the first touring cyclists I'd seen in days (weeks? I've lost track at this point). They were two feisty ladies who were riding from New Orleans to Canada, with a support vehicle driving ahead of them. They told me they had stayed in Erie the night before at a cheap motel which they discovered also functioned as a house of prostitution (they used more colorful language than that to describe it). They also informed me that it was raining in Erie, where I would be in a couple of hours.

As I rode toward Erie it did start to look increasingly rainy, and when I felt a few sprinkles, I turned into a small park and got under the pavilion. I spent the next couple of hours there while two separate rain showers passed over me, using the time constructively: Charging the batteries of my various electronic gadgets using the electrical outlets in the pavilion, working on this journal, and eating the last of the Fudge Rounds I'd been carrying around the last few days (Little Debbie had made a welcome reappearance in stores recently).

A big thanks to the Fire Department of Westfield, NY for providing this pavilion, built with money raised through Bingo in 1973!

When the sun came out, I continued on toward Pennsylvania, stopping just before the state line at the Hot Dog Hut and Putt, where I did have a hot dog but skipped the miniature golf.

Soon after finally escaping from New York, I started riding into the outskirts of Erie (pop. 103,717). The next couple of hours were the least fun of the day - I hate riding through urban areas like this one. About halfway through town, I looked up and saw the City Motel, where the two ladies from earlier told me they had stayed. I had to chuckle at the thought of them spending the night there.

I had ridden 75+ miles when I finally reached the outskirts of Erie, and I stopped briefly at a very cheap-looking motel where some nice-looking boats were parked outside. Some fishermen were outside in the parking lot, drinking beer and cleaning fish, and the following conversation ensued:

Me: "What do you think about this place? Is it OK?"
Fisherman #1: "Well, it ain't the tidiest place in the world, but they'll let ya clean yer fish here."
Fisherman #2: "It's the cheapest place you'll find. It ain't exactly the Hilton, mind ya."

By now it had become obvious to me that the fishermen had already drank a lot of beer, and that despite appearing to have rather low standards of hygeine, they had both mentioned the motel's "non-tidy" nature. I decided to move on to a campground outside of Lake City.

Soon after riding through Lake City, the sky turned dark and the wind became extremely strong - I could barely ride into it. Where did this come from?! It was alarming. I stopped at a store in a crossroads, where the guy working behind the counter told me there were tornado warnings. Several grungy-looking fishermen hanging around helpfully told me, "you'll be getting wet soon."

I tried calling the one nearby motel listed on my maps, but the irritated woman who answered told me it wasn't the motel, and gave me a different number. I tried it, but it was no longer in service. It was several miles to the next campground, where I didn't relish paying $26 to attempt to set up my little tent in a driving rain.

Then, I remembered seeing a sign advertising "Uncle John's Elk Creek Campground and Cabins." The store I was hiding out in was the "Elk Creek Store." Could I be so lucky? The lady behind the counter gave me a number to call, and the man who answered it told me he did have a cabin available (at a reasonable price), and that I was just down the road from his place.

Just then, a woman came in the store, bought a few things, and mentioned she was camping at "Uncle John's", and that I could just follow her to the campground. It was only a quarter mile (downhill) in the increasingly heavy rain to the place, where I ducked into one of the cabins "Uncle John" had told me about. No water or bathroom, but there was electricity, and it was dry. After dashing to the camp bathroom/shower and back, I eventually found the phone number of a place in nearby Lake City that would deliver a pepperoni pizza and cold Diet Pepsi to the campground. I spent the rest of the evening listening to music on my laptop. There was no internet access in the campground; that would have made it ideal.

(Uncle John's Elk Creek Campground, which caters primarily to fishermen, is not listed on the Adventure Cycling maps for some reason - even though his tent camping rates are low, and the cabins are an attractive option if the weather is bad).

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These feisty ladies were riding from New Orleans to Canada.
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I escaped the rain for about two hours here.
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Thanks, guys!
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The Hot Dog Hut and Putt - friendly little place just before the Pennsylvania line
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Today's ride: 86 miles (138 km)
Total: 2,930 miles (4,715 km)

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