A Morning Adventure

It's not always easy being a Gemignani. I mean born of, not married into. In particular, it means an absolute compulsion that a morning bike ride must include a goal. That goal, be longer or faster than the previous ride.

So I set forth at the crack of dawn on the banana.

I headed down to the Erie Canal in Pittsford. The early importance of the canal has given local towns on the canal nautical names: Pittsford, Fairport, Spencerport, Brockport.

The canal is dead flat, with a trail that mixes pavement and gravel. It's popular with distance runners of all ages, genders and fitness levels (replete with Camelback hydration, and bulging vests of supplements) and bikers both casual and distance-equipped with their own bulging bags. My trail today passed two cute-as-a-button downtowns (Pittsford, Fairport) equipped with gelatoes, bike shops, and promenades.

The canal misted quietly in the early morning

Here's a wobbly video. Bob stayed home

The route looked thusly.

A brief stop for breakfast at a bakery then a call with my Iowa girlfriend while I ambled home. There was a required stop at the Public Market both to achieve my record and meet my caffeination needs.

The crowds were swarming and I loaded up on potatoes, peaches, apples and coffee.

Saddlebags groaning, I headed home. One the way, I stopped by the burned down houses a street over from us.

Some generous soul had strewn wildflowers over this burnt earth and they strained to share their glory.