Montreal to New York City (almost…)

By Jack Thurston

Oer the summer I took my AM7 on its first long, fully-loaded cycle-camping tour, from Montreal to New York City. I do most of my touring in the UK and continental Europe but was attending a wedding of friends in Vermont and thought I'd build my summer holiday around this occasion. The ride ended rather abruptly on the border of Western Massachusetts and New York State when I took a bad spill on an iron bridge, but I did a couple of weeks of riding before that and I thought a report to fellow Moultoneers might be appreciated. For those who think that a picture is worth a thousand words, there are some snaps here on Flickr.

The first challenge was getting to Montreal and despite totally dismantling the AM and attempting to find a suitcase that it would fit in, I decided that a traditional full size bicycle bag was the best option. The airline succeeded in putting a few small dings in the frame, but none appear serious and nothing affected the ride.

The bike was equipped with a rear rack, the traditional Moulton bag and an APB front pannier rack (custom bolts and spacers required) fitted with a pair of Ortlieb front roller light panniers. I also had a small waterproof handlebar bag for camera, phone, wallet etc. and a map case that mounts on the handlebars. I managed to stuff a few items behind the seatpost/seatube.

[flickr]http://www.flickr.com/photos/19871340@N00/4075863133/[/flickr]
Mowhawk River Bridge

This was a camping trip but I was travelling relatively light, with a Terra Nova Superlight Solar 2.0 tent (highly recommended), a pocket rocket gas stove and titanium cookset. This investment in lightweight gear was counterbalanced by a selection of weighty reading books and my quite heavy radio recording equipment (I present a bicycle-oriented radio show on London's Resonance FM).

Montreal is a great place to cycle. A fairly small and compact city, it has plenty of generous cycle lanes, some excellent bike shops for picking up spares and a very helpful Maison des Cyclistes, offering advice, maps, coffee and food. Canadian people seem very oriented towards the outdoor life and there are a lot of cyclists of all kinds. The cycling culture looks well established (many more 10 speed 'clunkers' than here in London where bikes are more modern, reflecting the relatively recent renaissance in cycling). My Moulton received at least one admiring remark and turned a few heads on my first morning trundling around town.

Quebec has a set of 'routes vertes' or long distance cycle paths, I took the one that crosses the enormous St Lawrence River on the Jacques Cartier Bridge and heads south towards the US border. It was a fantastic route, with regular stopping places, a lot of the time it was completely separate from vehicle traffic and there were frequent places to stop and have a sit down, fill up with water, chat to other cyclists.

Things are a whole lot less cycle-oriented south of the border. In fact the only two-wheelers I saw for several days were Harley Davidsons. New York State has some pitiful 'cycle routes' that are basically a step down from the almost-as-bad British tradition of throwing down some green paint in the gutter of a road. A New York State cycle route basically means that every few miles you'll see a green sign saying "Cycle Route" but there's no actual infrastructure to be found. Even so, on most US highways there is a fairly generous shoulder and it was only on a few occasions that I experienced a massive 18 wheeler lorry flying past with precious little space to spare.

I soon crossed Lake Champlain into Vermont and rode down a series of islands in the lake that are connected by bridges. It was quite easy to wild camp on the shore of the Lake.

[flickr]http://www.flickr.com/photos/19871340@N00/4075850755/[/flickr]
Lake Champlain

Turning west and crossing the Lake by ferry I was back to New York State and I rode up into the Adirondack Mountains, which are rather beautiful, though not spectacular in the sense of the Alps or the Pyrenees, or the Rockies or Sierra Nevada. Leaving my gear at a campsite I did some day rides and rode twice up Whiteface Mountain. The road does not allow cyclists to ride up (only cars are allowed) so I made sure I went after 4pm when the ranger goes home and snuck under the barrier from where I felt I the mountain all to myself. It's a real mountain climb in the tradition of the great Alpine climbs and tops out at 4,867 ft (1,483 m) and including the haul up from Wilmington in the valley below, it's around 8-10 miles of proper climbing. I don't ride with a cycle computer - I find them an intrusion into the joy of riding - so I have little idea of the distances covered.

[flickr]http://www.flickr.com/photos/19871340@N00/4076611948/[/flickr]
At the top of White Face Mountain

I succeeded in overtaking most of the Lycra-clad road bikers on the ascent, much to their embarrassment at being passed by 'a guy in sandals on a folding bike'. And the suspension made mincemeat of the uneven road surface on the descent - the second time down it took just 8 minutes from the very top to the entrance gate (5 miles, 2,300 ft descent). Throughout the trip I became inured to people congratulating me for riding on a folding bike, it being so much harder work with those small wheels. Sometimes I took the time to explain how gearing works, sometimes I just took the compliment.

From the Adirondacks I went south east again back into Vermont, which has some beautiful pastoral landscapes and south into Massachusetts. I mostly camped wild and a few times in campgrounds. Neither were particularly satisfying experiences. Most open land in New England is filled with signs saying "POSTED: KEEP OUT, NO TRESPASSING, HUNTING, SHOOTING" etc. The sixth sense I have for when wild camping is OK in Europe eluded me. In the UK we are blessed with so many footpaths and bridlepaths that it's quite easly to slip away from the road on one and find a clearing a few hundred metres away from the road in which to camp. Not strictly legal, but very undetectable and invariably tolerated. But when I asked people in the US about wild camping they told me I should go to a campground, sometimes for my own safety. I thought this was very strange.

Campgrounds were expensive and don't have very good facilities. The problem is that there is only one size of pitch: Extra Large. So there I was with my tiny tent and bicycle in a pitch big enough for a family of six, their two tents and an RV. This would cost around 25 dollars a night. Compare to 4 or 5 euros a night at a French 'camping municipal' and it's clear which is the better deal. In my experience European camp sites have much better - and cleaner - facilities too. Added to all this was an abundance of giant mosquitos with a insatiable appetite for blood - apparently heavy rain this summer brought out a bumper crop.

Despite the problems of finding good spots to camp, the riding was good and passed through some really beautiful places and interesting towns and villages. People were friendly and generally quite curious about why anyone would want to ride a bicycle such a long way.

Food was also more limited than on a European tour. Towns are further apart and as I tucked into another can of baked beans or instant oatmeal from a petrol station store I did find myself dreaming of the crusty bread, fine cheeses, cured meats and wine that are the staple of the cycle tourist in France, Spain and Italy. Even so I chanced upon a few stalls selling farm produce including one selling quite possibly the tastiest and juiciest peaches I've ever eaten.

My ride came to a rather abrupt end a couple of days before I was meant to ride into New York City. Shortly after a rainstorm I rode over an iron bridge that had no surface on it and my wheels slipped badly (imagine a giant man-hole cover). I took the force of the fall in my face and ended up in an ambulance to the Accident and Emergency hospital. Six stitches and some dental work later I was left with just a few cuts and bruises. I still have a splint in my mouth that was needed to secure dislodged teeth but they'll be out by the end of the year and it looks as if the teeth have survived. It could have been a lot worse. The Moulton was undamaged. The total cost of the ambulance medical treatment was over 4000 dollars - fortunately I had travel insurance coverage for medical costs. I'd also ticked the 'cycle touring' optional extra when I bought the policy. I don't leave home without it.

[flickr]http://www.flickr.com/photos/19871340@N00/4075868767/[/flickr]
OUCH!

The next day I managed to get back to my campsite and gingerly ride the final 20 miles to the railway station at Wassaic, the northern terminus of the Harlem Line from where I took a train to Grand Central Station.

My Moulton AM7 was a fantastic bike for this trip. It's such a lively and responsive ride and really comfortable. Plus when I went for 'day rides' without all the gear, I felt I was able to enjoy a real 'speed machine'. I was probably slightly over-geared with a 54 tooth chainring and the traditional 9-28 sprockets and will probably pack a 46 tooth chainring the next time I ride fully loaded. One great thing about the roads in the US is that they're rarely more than about 6 or 7 per cent in steepness, so you can usually winch your way up in a low gear. Front suspension means Moultons are not the greatest bikes for riding out of the saddle (New Series excepted), so this is a bonus. I think the 15% of the Mortirolo in Italy would be another thing altogether.

I don't think a Moulton is quite the pack-horse that a traditional touring cycle can be, but with today's lightweight equipment it's quite possible to do a long camping trip in a great deal of comfort. Anything seriously wild, where a lot of food, or lots of warm clothing, must be carried might be more challenging. I'd love to hear from any Moultoneers who have done true 'expedition touring'.

The bike did exhibit some play in the front suspension when braking and assiduous readers will recall I raised this on the email list while on the road in Vermont. I'd like to say thanks to all those who offered their help and in particular to Doug Milliken who provided some excellent remote diagnosis and helped me conclude that it wasn't a problem that should prevent me riding on. The problem has since been diagnosed and kindly fixed by Dan Farrell at the BoA weekend in September. Owing to the bike's age (it's an '84 model - about the limit of my budget) there was some wear in the threads between the threaded stud on the suspension stirrup and the aluminium height adjuster barrel. A replacement height adjuster barrel has reduced the play - and the new hexagonal lockring on this part makes it easier to properly tighten the lockring with a spanner, rather than a mole wrench as was previously required on the circular lockring.

Anyway, please forgive another over-long ride report from me. As Mark Twain said, if I'd have had more time I'd have written a shorter letter.

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