Forgotten relics

by bethanybump

Since acquiring my new bike, I’ve gone on a few rides from one town to the next. I rode about 17 miles yesterday heading west. My mom and I made many stops along the way to wander in and around so many lovely sites and forgotten relics.

© Bethany Bump

The ride from Saint Johnsville to Little Falls is surprisingly full of awesome little treasures. There is an adorable little creek with a mini waterfall where we stopped on the ride back to cool off. Around a downhill bend we arrived at the historic Herkimer Home where General Nicholas Herkimer once lived and established a farmstead. If you look up the hill from the trail there is the solid brick English Georgian style mansion.

Herkimer Home | © Bethany Bump

Down the hill there is an expansive field of wildflowers that screams at you to frolic through on a sunny, breezy day (which it was). Three geese waddled along the trail headed toward the canal waters. We stealthily stalked them a little ways until I got too excited to catch up with them and they flew off.

A few miles out from the historic landmark we rode in sight of giant walls of excavated rock. I made a note to climb them on the way back until I almost ran over a snake and freaked out a little bit about encountering one in the rocks.

Riding along, I barely noticed a row of hidden decaying pillars to my left. My mom and I wandered inside and were greeted by a magical little Narnia. The pillars once held up a railroad and were littered with party leftovers and colorful graffiti. The sun overhead cast a stunning light through the columns, which were at this point growing trees and grass over their rusted roof. The effect was damn beautiful. Wandering further still away from the trail and past the columns is a barely noticeable de facto trail. Brush and trees obscured a faraway view of a curious little manmade cement waterhole. I couldn’t fathom what it was for, but the years of neglect made me wonder if Bilbo Baggins possibly lived out there.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

The drive from Saint Johnsville to Little Falls by car is very different. It’s mundane. It’s too familiar. You change lanes and obey signs with the second nature of someone who’s bored by a place they’ve known all their life. Maybe that’s why I was unexpectedly delighted by this latest biking adventure.