"Journeys, like artists, are born and not made. A thousand differing circumstances contribute to them, few of them willed or determined by the will --whatever we may think."
Lawrence Durrell

Sunday, August 8, 2010

A Night in the Life of a Horror Film

Riding into New York for a second time the other day I was greeted by a scene straight out of a Hollywood horror film.  I rode by the Harlem Valley Psychiatric Facility which was closed down, had vines growing all over it, and was the typical uninviting brick buildings.  A mile down the road I found a mom and pop motel that I pulled into for the day.  There was a man sitting at a picnic table out front who said he would get the manager for me.  He immediately went calling for Chuckie.  What a name to have near a psychiatric ward.  Chuckie turned out to be a nice guy, but it just played in so well.  Later that night I lost power in my room.  Shortly thereafter a storm blew in with thunder and lightning immediately outside.  I couldn't help but laugh at all the similarities between here and the horror films.

Needless to say, I survived the night and left in good humor the next day.  That day I rode about a third or so of the day on bike trails all the way in to just north of Harlem.  I then crossed the George Washington bridge into New Jersey and rode to Newark to find a place to say.  I was greeted on the bridge by the New York skyline, a place I had lived near a couple years earlier.  The ride that day was quite normal, except that I lost one of my wonderful Reef sandals with the internal pockets.  This put a damper on the day.  

I then headed down to central New Jersey and ended up staying at a campground for two nights because I had such trouble finding a place to stay.  I got the last site in the grounds and I couldn't find a motel room in the area.  This proved to be a great endeavor as I had a group of four families for neighbors who were quite friendly.  Joe and his wife, my closest neighbors even gave me breakfast and dinner on saturday.  I hung out with the gang and shared stories around the campfire that night and it made the ridiculous cost of the campsite seem less bad.  

Today I rode some beautiful roads, used mostly by bikers and cyclists, most of the way to Atlantic City.  The back roads of New Jersey have been a pleasant experience and a good break from the stresses of the big city on the north.  Tomorrow I get to ride a ferry over to Delaware and meet state number 40 in my tour.  

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