Leaving Tonawanda we pedalled upstream along the Niagara River knowing it was best not to fall in as we would end up going over the falls downstream. Gloria looked longingly across the river into Canada. When we arrived a little later at the Unity Island Park – assumedly an island unifying Canada and US because it sits in the Niagara River between the two countries – I was excited to ride into it and be that much closer, for Gloria, to Canada.
We pedalled toward it, along a very nice trail btw, excited to cross the bike bridge. Gloria was likely thinking a little about finding a boat. As we came up the hill and turned to the crossing we were stopped by a closed/locked gate. Apparently the peace park got closed when Trudeau closed the Canadian border – it’s only fair. Fine, the Canadians don’t want dirty, Covid swarming Americans into their country. We don’t want to share a peace park with them.
South of Tonawanda is Buffalo. We were fortunate to have some good trails despite being in one of the most industrial areas of the world. Railroads, Canals, Great Lakes iron, and power came together in these parts. The past world of steel and massive construction was visible everywhere. Unfortunately, a lot of it was simply that – in the past. I tried to convince Gloria that riding through the towering buildings and smokestacks were like winding through a canyon in the mountains. The semi trucks whizzing by and trying to kill us detracted a little from the “canyon” feel.
In my mind, this trip was the Empire State Trail (Manhattan to Buffalo) and the GAP/C&O Trails (Pittsburgh to DC). We would have to connect them by some “other” riding along the East coast and from Buffalo to Pittsburgh. Surprisingly, the “other” riding is also really enjoyable. The ride along the shore of Lake Erie was great today. Seeing a Navy museum was a great start. We had a tail wind, warm temperatures, and although on a road we enjoyed a good shoulder and low traffic. The views of the lake were great and this evening we enjoyed walking along the shore in the pleasant little town of Dunkirk (yes named after the french one).
Sadly and wonderfully we were stopped by Diane and George on the trail through Buffalo. They were out for a day ride. It was one of the ways they were coping with the loss of two of their sons – both to drug overdoses. They are the second grieving parents we have run into on the trail. The other parent we met had lost a 33 year old daughter. Although mentioning my job might seem like the catalyst for such discussions, it usually comes up without it. People are grieving and they desperately need comfort. We tried to give some, but the grief is deep. We shared contact numbers, hugs, and some tears – maybe just listening is the best we can do.
Grumpy Grandpa's Great Bicycling Adventures 
There is a place in heaven for the both of you.
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