Date: 2014-06-26
From: North Tonawanda

To: Lockport
Miles today: 19.0

Leaving North Tonawanda was quick work, after all a protein shake for breakfast tends to cut out the cooking. The route out of town was clearly marked, but over the course of the day, it went through many transformations and names. The cities along the River, because we still havent actually gotten to anything remotely Canalish, have done a fine job of promoting the path as a place for locals to bike along, push baby strollers while drinking lattes and walk with the pace of the dead. Also, the River side of the trail is littered with hundres of private docks, some very nice ones with tv's and cable even. Some no more than a sign stay the hell away because they dont want to be held liable for you falling in and drowning.   I used to live in Amherst NY, attending Sweet Home High School in 1988-89. I had no idea Amherst came all the way north to the river. I thought it was all strip malls and the University. In fact the Trail along the river was beautiful, the city has done itself proud. While hiking along the path, bemoaning my aching ankles and lack of water, I came across a very odd sight. An old home, not so odd right..... but with donkeys, sheep, chickends and a whole pack of furry dogs. The shade of the trees lining the property were enough to tempt me over to admire the area. As I was leaving a car pulled up and a hippy goddess exited the vehicle. Well I was mistaken, Nancy just looks the part of a hippy, she is a big fan of the big J.C. She invited me on to her land and introduced me to her husband Dick, a retired Army Lt.Col. So while we spoke of his time in the Army, the small farm they had and our children ( who can resist talking about their children), Nancy was a gracious hostess. SHe offered me coffee and a bagel with homemade strawberry jam, a typical Buffalo greeting, and all the water I could carry away. She also provided me a contact for up the Canal in Albion.   After a much needed break at the old cottage, I continued along the river path. It was beautifull, reminding me of the A.T., except with a paved walkway, and who wouldnt love a paved walkway along parts of the A.T., perhaps even an escalator or two. I quickly came to Pendleton, made famous for a minute as the birthplace of our own homegrown terrorist Timothy McVay (PH). Well, I was greeted with signs of Ice Cream goodness and the Lord Almighty.    I approached two men at the Church and inquired about making camp on the lawn. Pastor John agreed and even offered me some electricity. Dropping my pack under the watchfull eye of the God and his Minister, I departed for the Land of all things rich and creamy....Frozen Custard. If you have never had it, you are missing out. It was on my list of must haves while in Western New York. So was Beef on Wick but I have not been able to find a place around meal time that is giving them away for free.   While I was entertaining a family with tails of the Trail and A.T. Erik, the son of Pastor John, came to inform me that his mother, also a Pastor, is slightly paranoid of strangers and would rather the Lord show me a different place to rest. Damn! Kicked out by Gods own messanger. But having a mother myself with some mental piculiarities, I understand. After all what would life be like without our mothers putting us in awkward situations.   Long story short, I made it into Lockport late last night, spoke with John the night engineer of the Locks and he pointed out some places to campout on the locks. I chose a greaet spot out on a peninsula, without remembering that the sun wouldnt dry the dew off my tent until late since I was infact in a valley. Rooky mistake...and I had to climb up Amicola Falls to get back up to street level. Well, slightly less then the Falls, but more than I have done in a long time.