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The first picture doesn’t show that behind me is a 200-foot sandy cliff. I
had been having a nice time in SWO, did some fishing in the Nith river and
was in the middle of a morning ride along Lake Erie when I came to a
barrier with a sign, “Road Closed”, and a path beyond it that looked like
an opportunity to follow what had once been a road. I couldn’t tell how
long it had been abandoned. At first the going was pleasant, riding on a
faint path through knee-high weeds, here and there signs saying danger,
etc. then I came to the reason the highway had been abandoned: a huge
desolation where the lakeside had caved in, no way to go down the cliff, so
I had to follow the desecration around the edge of the cliff and hope that
there was some passable trail on the other side, or go back and retrace my
steps. I chose to push on, and soon found myself in a jungle of chest-high
vines. I had to carry the bike on my shoulder, at one point I realized I
was crossing a split-rail fence which was somewhere beneath my feet while I
waded through the vines, sometimes coming to a complete stop and having to
disentangle myself. I emerged at the edge of a cornfield, which I could
follow where it skirted close to the edge of the cliff. The corn was over
my head, providing a nice cover for my passage, and there were some jimson
weeds growing at the edge. When I got to the far side of the defile I had
to pass through the jungle again, at one point my bike was secured fast and
I toppled forward but ended up suspended a few feet above the ground. My
chain was caught in an ancient branch. I managed to free it with no damage
except for a snapped zip tie on the front basket. I made it through the
jungle and then had to walk between an impenetrable forest and a tobacco
field, finally coming out in the ludicrous situation of walking down a
farmer’s driveway which had a gate at the end that I had to lift the bike
over, and a sign that said “no trespassing” pointing the opposite way from
which I had come.
I had made it back to the road, and soon found a beautiful secluded beach
where I could strip down and have a swim, however it could have been easily
reached by the usual road without the jungle exertions, a road that also
featured a campground with a sign that said “bikers welcome” which did not
mean bicyclists. Through this exploration the Atlantis comported itself
admirably, although I had been carrying it much of the way, in other words
it had been riding me instead of me riding it. For the second half of the
day I made my way slowly back to my home, one of those marches where you go
slower and slower and take more and more breaks as you near your
destination, but there were definite periods of fun and enjoyment as well.
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