Get Bent
Coast to coast by recumbent bicycle

Deposit NY to Smallwood NY

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Delaware River

Expenses($ US)

Old Route 17 disappears and bicycles cannot ride on 17 proper. Following the advice of the motel manager I cross over the West Branch Delaware River and ride parallel to it on River Road. The road starts out nice, but degrades quickly to a rubble field. I can't go too fast down the hills because of the large stones. See a state line marker from the 1830s. I ride in Pennsylvania for three or four miles half expecting to see the cast of Green Acres.

Cross the West Branch Delaware River into New York then the East Branch Delaware River on to New York Route 97 heading southeast. (This segment is also Bike Route 17.) Hilly and heavily forested. The sky is overcast. I get hit by history's shortest rainstorm. It didn't even last two minutes.

Transfer to New York Route 17B at Callicoon and head east. Accidentally follow the wrong road instead of turning. I head north on New York Route 52 A. I check the map and see I can ride on back roads to the site of the Woodstock music festival. Why not? Maybe I can get some media attention. The roads are in an erratic state of maintenance. Smooth for a bit, then potholes, then roughly patched, then completely unpaved. Can't really let the bike run all out downhill. Bad patches pop up out without warning. Old Taylor Road, Laketown Road, Perry Road. A car full of stoners passes me. Twice. Dumb comments that I don't remember. The entrance to Woodstock is guarded by state troopers. There are signs everywhere, "Please respect our neighbors property and privacy." There's no way to get any closer than half a mile. A helicopter buzzes overhead. Some guy whips out a camera to take my picture on a downhill run. Just to mess with his mind, I whip out my camera to photograph him.

Back on to 17B. More state troopers and a couple miles of orange traffic cones to prevent parking on the highway. I ride past another entrance to the festival called "A Day in the Garden". East of Bethel, the locals have set up tourist traps hawking souvenirs. Way too much cheap tie-dye. I turn south and head into the cottage community of Smallwood. Ride around half lost for ten minutes. By the time I figure out where I am, I run into Artie, Judy and Artie's mother out for a walk. I will sleep at their cabin and ride the remaining distance to Manhattan tomorrow.

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