July 14 Fifteen miles on the Erie Canal

I gotta a hound, her name's Brindal,
Fifteen miles on the Erie Canal.
She's a good ole sleeper and a good ole pal,
Fifteen miles on the Erie Canal.

I've hauled a trailer some miles this day,
Filled with water, food n' Brindal-fay.
And we know every mile of da way,
From Seattle to Buffalo.

Oh low clouds, everybody down,
Low gears, for we're coming to a town.
And you'll always know your route
and you'll always know your gal,
if you've ever bi-cycled
along the Erie Canal!

By 8 am this morning, I gotta squeeze the big toe of my wife to be sure she's still alive;
appears that yesterday's long day was a bit tiring for both of us. Rte 31A is more farmlands, with roads lined with naturalized orange daylillies, blue corn flowers and yellow treefoil. Terrain is just about flat and temperature in the 70's. Just about perfect. We tack south to avoid some traffic and explore the quaint hamlets of East Shelby, West Barre and Barre Centre, then back on 31A thru Clarendon and to a Friendly's for lunch in Sweden. (Both Ellen and I remember Friendlys restaurants from our NY days, only this time Ellen qualifys for the free hot fudge sundae as a Senior!!)
In Spencerport, we find the Erie Canal bike trail, and like a hounddog on a mission, we happily and determinedly strike eastward. The track is a mix of some pavement, but is mostly hard cinder, which is very cycleable with our road bikes at 10 mph. The track is dedicated to pedestrians and bicycles and parallels the canal just a few feet away. Small towns en route, at one time hubs of activity and commerce, have seen their flames once again relit by the restoration of traffic, albeit touristic. Chris and Suzanne Brown, friends of Ellen's and our gracious hosts for tonite, direct us into Rochester along the canalway and we reach their lovely 1910 Victorian Craftsman house by 6:30 pm.
Ellen, Chris and Suzanne disappear off to partake in musical events, leaving me to finish up the homebrew beer, and search out the neighborhood for ice cream, (which I do find, BTW...)
Ellen has brought me out my pocket trumpet, so I had the (dis)pleasure of trying to blow a few notes after 8+ weeks. Ouch, glad noone was around!