New England via bicycle -- groan

The headline on the article in the July/August 1985 issue of Sidebar read:
Having a great time,
New England via bicycle --groan

By Dave Boerner
Editorial
When the kids get out of school they are flushed with enthusiasm. And that's fine. The trouble starts when a parent gets swept up in that enthusiasm.

In my case, it happened when son Troy blurted out: "Dad, let's bike to Toronto!" I swallowed hard, computing in my head something like 700 miles round trip.

My idea of a bike ride is to mount the $50 beauty I bought from smooth-talking Phil Karam and spend a few minutes puffing through a small park in the neighborhood.

Even that little bit of exertion provided fodder for a lot of one-liners a couple of years ago when I toppled rather spectacularly and broke my nose.

I suppose it's possible for a 16-year-old to just hop on a bike and ride to Toronto. But not old dad. No way.

It was time for Plan B. A compromise. For years, I have been getting gorgeous junk mail from an outfit in Vermont that organizes country inn bike tours.

The brochures stress that each rider can determine how far he or she wants to go and at what pace. And, they say a van will trail the group and pick up anyone who has bike problems or poops out. I liked this idea better. And I might even lose some poundage in the process.

Our five-day tour started and ended in White River Junction, Vt. There were 28 males and females in the group from 12 states, Washington, D. C. and Canada. Riders ranged in age from 11 to 74.

Early on, I officially freed Troy from the drudgery of hanging back with the old man. I told him it was OK to go ahead while I tended to lag well toward the end of the pack.

We saw tiny old villages and covered bridges nestled in the foothills of the Green Mountains. We rode the back roads on both sides of the Connecticut River which separates Vermont and New Hampshire.

Troy especially enjoyed the challenge of climbing the hills. While the scenery was so stunning that I would often forget what I was doing to my body, at times I grunted agreement with the message of one of the popular T-shirts: Vermont Ain't Flat.

The 74-year-old man from Ellicottville. N. Y. was one of the more energetic bikers. There was some grumbling that the tour leaders probably kept him in the van and just dropped him out ahead of us from time to time to spur us on. But we knew better.

Each evening we dined and slept in a different inn. And we slept well. Not even the rain pounding on the tin porch roof outside our window could deter that.

The whole idea of the trip was to get some exercise while enjoying the rustic beauty of Vermont.

But there was also a great emphasis on food. I had hoped to shed some weight pedaling those 150 miles. But the scales back home showed two pounds on the plus side. Sigh...