Day 15 - a diversion to Rochester
We took another walk around the wetland trail before departing Fairport
From Fairport, we had two locks to go through on the way to the Genesee River. Unlike our last few days, the timing worked out such that there were three other boats waiting when we came around the corner for our first one. Just before we entered, the Colonial Belle, a tour boat that had also come from Fairport, called the lockkeeper to tell her to get us all to the front, they were coming too. They insisted that they have the whole width of the lock to themselves, which seemed a little obvious since the big boat was wide enough that only kayaks or rowboats would fit alongside them. The four of us took the front half of the lock, leaving the back half to them.
Maryanne and I had already decided we don't like being anywhere near the Colonial Belle, which I re-dubbed "The Wakeminator".
As we were leaving for one of our afternoon walks along the canal in Fairport, They tore out of their parking spot only two berths ahead of us and managed to throw Begonia around quite a bit as they accelerated away. Later, on the return leg of our walk, they came back trailing a huge wake. They were wreaking havoc on the canal banks and every single moored boat along the way was yanking so hard on their docks we were surprised none of them capsized or snapped their lines. It's hard to imagine such behavior would last long after what must be a torrent of complaints to the company from the owners of the land along the canal. Perhaps they have a new Captain and perhaps it's still early in the season for all of the mail to be piling up yet. It's a shame. If they allowed just thirty more minutes for the tour, it would be a lovely glide along the canal without the narrator having to shout over all of the obscenities coming from astern.
In the lock, It was clear why The Wakeminator needed the full width. It's such a big, heavy boat that they have no hope of resisting the push of the turbulence with muscle power bringing in the slack of a partially cleated line. What they do instead is to cleat the lines fully and let the boat drift closer to the opposite wall as the water level comes up.
We shared lock E32 with the Colonial Belle, and the many screaming kids waiting for their turn on the return trip to Fairport
To add to the drama, a mother and her young, downy ducklings got caught inside the lock when the doors closed. She managed to escape the boats by going way to the forward doors, where the family was deluged in the waterfall of leaks coming through the door's seals. When the sluices were opened, the turbulence spun the poor mother around and around. The ducklings have such a strong following instinct that they stayed in line behind her, forming spirals and curlicues as she looked for calmer water. They left through the top with the rest of us, doing a few more pirouettes in our prop wash. I wonder if any of them will grow up to think "riding" the locks is fun.
The Wakeminator turned around before the next lock, which was good because it left the other four of us to spread comfortably around for that one. Plus, they were picking up a load of school kids who screamed so loud and at such high octaves when we exited the lock that it actually hurt to be within a hundred feet of them.
And after a more peaceful Lock 33, we took the turn onto the Genesee River towards Rochester
I was a bit worried about leaving the Erie Canal to go down the Genesee River, leading to the city of Rochester. I've spent a bit of time here in the past and one thing that seems to define the river views in my memory is piles of big trees jammed up against every bridge abutment and shallow spot along the way. Like Syracuse, Rochester doesn't get a whole lot of canal traffic. I was hoping the Canal Corporation had managed to clear the channel this season, even if Syracuse was perpetually at the bottom of their list.
It was fine. We had depths of two-and-a-half to four meters the whole way to downtown, with no bumps. We didn't run out of water until we tried to tie up to the very last berth at the Corn Hill Landing wall, right before the river turns to dams and rapids. We were hoping the bottom would be squishy enough to push our way close enough to tie our stern line, but no such luck. We moved a few spaces forward and had no problems there.
Patrick, the dockmaster, came around to say hi. He had literally held that position for a few hours as it was the new management's first day. He was very friendly when he explained to us that, unfortunately, the dock was no longer free of charge. The new fee was five dollars. We waited through a pregnant pause, waiting for him to fill it with, "per foot" or, "per foot, per day" or, we hoped irrationally, "per meter." Nope. The fee was just five bucks, full stop. Well, I suppose that's not so bad.
Rochester
I had a fairly simple plan for our stay in Rochester: We would walk to High Falls, eat dinner at The Dinosaur Bar-B-Cue and then walk home via one or more of the lovely, leafy green riverfront trails. Our plans were somewhat thwarted because Rochester is undergoing some sort of major, Big Dig-style renovation to a lot of the city's infrastructure. The routes I was used to using back in the day were all blocked with building works and heavy equipment. That gave us a chance to double our mileage with detours and dead-ends.
High Falls are a classic Rochester site. There are several interesting audio history points we were able to connect with along the trail, and we learned about Sam Patch, a guy who made his living by diving/jumping into falls (dubbed the Jersey Jumper). He twice jumped (from a platform) into Niagara falls, but it was these Rochester High Falls here that led to his death.
When we finally did get to the much better viewpoint of the falls from the Pont de Rennes Bridge, we were ready to pop into the Genesee Brewing Company for a sit down and a coldie with a view of the falls. More detours on the other side of the river took us through some areas that are noticeably dodgier now than when I had seen them last. The Dinosaur was still there, though.
We returned via the Library (which even loans out sewing machines), and the Dinosaur BBQ...
This time, with our last experience in mind, we ordered an appetizer and a small sandwich, split each and were able to enjoy our walk home in perfectly sated comfort.
And later we took a walk south along the river trail
Day 16 - ending at Medina
In the morning, I stealthily popped my head out of our gally hatch to find Begonia still tied to the wall. Already, Rochester was doing an above average job by Upstate New York city standards.
Can you tell Maryanne likes the birds?
We left the Genesee River, rejoined the Erie Canal, and had a relatively uneventful, if a little chilly, day navigating long, straight stretches of deeply cut waterway.
Only two locks remain before we can get the mast up again and those are still three days away. In the meantime, this part of the canal is dominated by lift bridges, which must rise to make way for us every hour or so. The lift bridges are much less of an impediment than the locks and most operators can time it so that we don't even have to touch the throttle as we pass, since we don't go fast enough to throw a wake in the first place.
I had expected our stop at the little village of Holley to be in a quiet, rural setting. It would have been, except that the town was having June Fest as we arrived. Right next to the boat was a pond with a big fountain. Scattered around it were several Farmers' Market-style stalls selling either gooey foods or artist's crafts. Kids were running around everywhere and lots of families had set up camp for the day at their preferred picnic table.
A lot of friendly people came by to ask us questions and we told so many stories that it felt like Begonia's cockpit was the last stall in the string. I think we got more traffic than the poor guy running for County Supervisor.
Holley was a fine small village, and the surrounding countryside filled with classic red barns
As the sun fell toward the horizon, the party slowly broke up until it was just us left with the background noise of the last of the birds chattering themselves to sleep.
Day 17 - ending at Medina
From Holley, we had an easy, solitary day of motoring along a canal that was mostly elevated above the surrounding farmland on the top of its own dike. We saw lots of cyclists, including several groups of what appeared to be Amish women having a brief break. Between groups rode a few men in suspenders and straw hats. All of them smiled and waved enthusiastically as we passed.
This stretch of the canal had lots of groups of (what we assumed are) Amish
We stopped for the night at Medina, tying up in the very same spot we had in Prydwen while going the other way as newlyweds in 2003. The canal bends sharply here, which at one time made room for a large number of moored barges, but now just gives it a feel of roominess.
We passed our Northern-most point along the Canal, and once we reached Medina a fellow boater had a snake aboard!
We de-stressed with a (giant) slice of pizza each
Medina has a large Railway Museum, which is really more of an everything museum surrounding a very large model train set. For example, they have more firefighter hats than I would have imagined even exist. Maryanne was giggling at her little joke of me being a train nerd, but she was the one taking most of the pictures and running around pushing the little buttons that light up the buildings in this part of the model or the crossing lights in that. I believe the psychologists call that projection.
The Medina Railway Museum
Since breakfast was by then a distant memory, we decided to take the edge off of our stomachs' grumblings with a quick slice at a local pizzeria. We didn't want to spoil our appetites for dinner later.
Well, we should have noticed that there was something weird about the glass on the display case. When our slices came out of the oven, each one needed three paper plates on its own serving tray. There was more pizza in that slice than a whole pizza. What kind of sorcery is this? Dinner is cancelled.
Later, when strolling by the same place, I did a double-take when I saw two little old ladies sitting at a booth by the window. Their pizza slices were clearly little wedges of a pizza that was pretty much the same size as their paper plate, as in one slice took up 1/6th of the plate. I thought about going in and asking how one gets a slice that size, but then I thought maybe the windows are the same kind of glass as on the display case and those little old ladies are actually the size of Godzilla, so I changed my mind.
A stroll along the trails revealed the local waterfall, and 'The Big Apple'
Day 18 - ending at Lockport
The day westbound from Medina was another peaceful, solitary day. We saw more rolling farmland and more friendly Amish. There were two notable spots. One was the northernmost part of the canal at 43˚ 15'N, the other was an underpass a little further along on the same straightaway, where two-lane Culvert Road passes under the canal.
After a few hours, steeples appeared on the horizon, then both began to rise ahead of us. We had reached the Great Escarpment, a wall running east to west for hundreds of miles. It's the same one Niagara Falls is slowly cutting through. The town of Lockport is built into a natural dip in the cliff face. It is for this reason that the five-lock flight (now reduced to two) that completes the last westward climb of the canal was built here. Once the engineering project was started, the town grew up around it.
Lockport historically had a double set of 5 locks (one for up, one for down traffic), and one flight of those is now replaced with the 'modern' double lock
Josh, the lockkeeper (we later learned in the museum they are now called lock tenders), told us Begonia was to be the only boat in going through next time, so come on in. As we did, lots of people stood on the bridges above, documenting our last two Erie Canal locks. At the top, we did a 180 and parked in the remains of historic Lock 70. After Josh helped us tie up, we went to the adjacent Canal Museum, housed in some of the old buildings of the former flight of locks and then climbed the hill for an explore. Just as at Newark, the very nearest business to Begonia was an ice cream shop. I am trying my hardest not to get used to this.
But Kyle still loves the ice cream stores!
It was fun to watch the lock water lower for another boat to pass through
We both enjoyed Lockport very much, with its fine museums and its long views to the north from the clifftop. The evening lock tender was also very friendly and during some slow time, he proudly gave me the tour of the machinery, opening access panels and rattling off stats about sizes and weights and horsepowers. His love for his job and his hundred and twenty-year-old equipment was infectious. It made me almost want to flip the switch to send the 480 volts to drive the fourteen-horsepower motor (10.5kW!) that lifts the 10,000lb counterweight so the 7,500lb sluice door will close. The next exam for new-hires is on Monday. Uh….I'm kinda busy that day, so maybe not.
Day 19 - ending at Tonawanda - the end of the canal
A morning walk in Lockport before departing westwards - some ruins from the much older canal route
One of the guys at the museum in Lockport opined that the real feat of engineering that allowed the Erie Canal to finally be completed is not the flight of locks at Lockport, it is the deep cut through the escarpment to Tonawanda Creek. I have no doubt he is correct in terms of labor hours and material removed, but with no fun moving parts, it is a bit less interesting. Thus, our last day on the canal started off rather dull.
Since there wasn't enough room to turn Begonia around, it took some careful maneuvering to back out of the historic lock at Lockport and then spin around in the space where it and the new locks meet. After that, we passed under Wide Bridge, which is basically a city block encompassing two roads and a parking lot. It looks like passing through a short tunnel. There is another, slightly less wide, two-road bridge and then we were into the cut.
We'll definitely miss the calm waters of the canal
Since the cut is straight and narrow, with high walls, there isn't much to see along the way except walls of rock topped by a ribbon of sky. That sky was brown from all the fires in Canada, with a red sun that was too dim to give any warmth.
After a few hours, the cut joined Tonawanda Creek and our world changed back to a lazy meander along a winding river with green banks. Eventually, we fetched up in the small and slightly run-down twin towns of the Tonawandas, North and just plain. We tied up on the North Tonawanda side, just two bridges from Wardell's Boatyard, where we planned to re-step our mast later.
Tonawanda - we made it!
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