Day 61. Fulton to Rome, 58 miles

I woke up knowing I was going to Rome today; it was hot and sticky already, and I didn’t have a ride with no shower in me. I was pretty miserable about the cost of a crappy motel in Rome, NY, one of the most expensive motel cities of the trip for reasons beyond my fathoming. But I was gratefully able and willing to pay the price to have a cool shower and room for the night. So I put the ACA route aside and mistrustful turned back to Googlemaps.

The mistrust was validated when Googlemaps tried to put me on a snowmobile trail, currently a lushly grassy path; I took the reins and got myself back to the secondary road I’d been on, which had a posh shoulder and reasonable traffic.

Honestly, it was just HOT. And SO humid. The thought of a shower and AC sustained me, though. When the trail turned to something that Googlemaps deemed paved or improved (indicated with a continuous green line), I dropped down to it. The Oswego County Recreational Trail is indeed intended for biking, among other activities (snowmobiling, hiking, walking your dog), the sign indicated. I’m not sure fully loaded riding was the kind they had in mind, though.

Still, it was tree-lined and quiet, but for all the catbirds whining amusingly at me, and totally deserted save one ATV (not permitted). I rode it until it was unpleasant—it ran through a lot of water, and it was clear that the trail was frequently flooded, with the resulting erosion causing huge rocky pits—and then jumped off onto the nearby road.

I also began hugging the north coast of Lake Oneida, which meant some nice lake views and towns with more money. In the town of Cleveland, I stopped for a break at a tiny public park—really a scenic pull-out—that looked to be the beneficiary of every charitable impulse the town’s citizens had ever had. There were several benches in honor of people scattered about, as well as a brick walkway. The main feature was a 9/11 Memorial Gazebo.

I sat there snacking and cooling off and contemplating the lake and the flowers and the pavilion. Then I moved on.

Then I was back on the Erie Canal Trail briefly, though a less loved section of it.

I arrived in Rome, and guys, my motel was bleak. It was maybe the saddest place I’ve stayed, outside the Rodeway Inn that Joyce and I got stuck at in Georgetown, SC. I didn’t feel unsafe, but I certainly didn’t feel like anyone I saw at the motel was okay. Meth, I think, and maybe prostitution? It was a sad place. But the shower and AC worked fine, and my needs are few and my standards low, fortunately.

Speaking of needs! I found a laundromat and Subway within walking distance, so after a shower I pulled my foul-smelling load (hot! no showers!) together and headed out. While my stuff was in the washer I want to futuristic and somehow still depressing Subway for dinner.

Then I walked back, threw my things in the dryer, and spent the drying time walking the perimeter of reconstructed Fort Stanwix, a British colonial fort.

I went back to the motel with my laundry planning to head out again for more touristing, but the storm that had arrived with me in Rome and then retreated made a comeback, and instead I hung out in my enjoyably chilly motel room and amused myself until bedtime. I made one foray outside, during which I saw an ambulance and police car pull out of the lot, no sirens.

Grateful for Andrew’s suggestion, I tucked myself into a bed I’d checked for evidence of bedbugs and drifted off.