On to the Next Lake

Now that I'm not looking for work for a bit, I've just been biking,
and reached Buffalo, on the shores of Lake Erie, yesterday.
Unfortunately, it looks like the beautiful weather is over for a
while, and I'll be hitting rain and storms, and, due to the low
population density, likely camping in them. I don't expect the
upcoming few days to be very pleasant.

Although I found a place to stay in Rochester and now in Buffalo, I
haven't been able to get access to a computer, and likely won't for a
while. Thus, no updates to the map, and no photos on the blog.

I was planning to write about what a boon for the traveler a gas
station is, what with cheap food, water for my bottles, bathrooms,
plugs to charge my phone, etc.

But I encountered another boon as I walked toward Batavia. As I go
west, the hills get smaller and I get stronger, the result being that
I don't need to get off the bike at all. This becomes, quite
literally, a pain in the ass. To mitigate that, I've been getting off
and walking a bit every now and then.

"You look like you're coming from a distance!" I suddenly heard. I
hadn't even realized I was passing a house. I walked over to the man
and we talked for a bit, starting with bikes and ending with the US
Constitution. His name was Bob.

"Would you like to come in for some sandwiches?"

"If you're offering, I'm taking."

We went inside. "It's a good thing my wife isn't home. She's skeptical
of strangers. She was robbed once."

I made myself one sandwich. I didn't want to overeat while still
biking. He had me make another and pack it for the road. I refilled my
water bottles.

Miles later, in Corfu, I saw a woman on a porch and asked if she'd
mind if I sat with her and ate my sandwich. She asked the usual
questions and told me about the new basketball hoop she got.

I got to Buffalo and met Mel, who took me out to dinner at an Indian
restaurant, and at whose place I'm comfortably staying right now.

But gas stations are far more dependable, and they let me retain my
independence.