The rising tide means run for the hills (146Cong.Rec.8103)

In case you didn't know, there are people out there who choose -- pay, even -- to run 100 miles, and my husband is one of them. After doing 50K and 50-mile races, TJ signed up for the Burning River 100, a one-way race through northeast Ohio. Running 100 miles takes, well, a while, so you have to start pretty early in the morning. After making it to Ohio from Virginia at about 9 p.m. on a Friday, we were up again at 2 a.m. Saturday to get to Squire's Castle near Willoughby for the 5 a.m. start (left). The running pack donned neon bracelets and headlamps so they could make their way through the early-morning dark (right).

As TJ made his way from aid station to aid station in Cleveland Metroparks (left) and Cuyahoga Valley National Park (right), he was looking strong. Following him around as his "crew," I was not feeling as energized. I grabbed some sleep whenever I could while waiting for TJ to check in, in the hopes of resting up for my pacing session with him. In perhaps a decision more crazy than his choice to run the race at all, I volunteered to accompany him for 16 miles through the night. I knew that I could in no way pace TJ, since I am not an experienced runner, but I figured I could at least keep him from going off the route or falling off a cliff. When he was going so fast for the first 50 miles, though, I was scared that I wouldn't be able to keep up. Lucky for me, by the time he hit mile 75, he was losing steam. Between some tight muscles and many steep trails, we walked most of the way to mile 91, when we parted ways for him to conquer the final stretch alone.

It started to rain after we split ways, so by the time he crossed the finish line at Falls River Square in Cuyahoga Falls, TJ was soaked as well as spent (left). He came in 78th overall, with a total time just under 28 hours, a few hours short of his target time of 24 hours. But to be sure, his achievement is still remarkable. Of the 300 runners who started the race, less than half even finished, either because they didn't make cutoff times or dropped out. The wear and tear is just too much for some people's bodies, which is why there is free foot care at the end of the race (right). TJ actually fared pretty well, except for his swollen hobbit feet.

So what do you do to top a 100 mile race? Well, run another one, of course, after realizing your rookie mistakes. Unfortunately, there aren't a lot of 100-milers before we leave the States, so in the immediate future TJ will have to settle for another 50K and another 50-miler. He also wanted to do a marathon as a training run, and in yet another crazy decision, I convinced him to sign up for the Freedom's Run, so I could do it, too. With my first marathon only a few months away, I kicked my training into high gear, which means every weekend now must include some way to squeeze in a run.

This makes camping a perfect outing, so during a recent weekend, we headed back to wild and wonderful West Virginia, this time to the Monongahela National Forest (top). On the Saturday, I put in 6 miles in and around the nearby Stuart Day Use Area, and the next day, TJ logged about the same amount, although he submitted to more hills as he ran from the Otter Creek Wilderness (bottom left) up to our campground, Bear Heaven (bottom right). Thankfully, neither of us encountered any bears.

 

We went up some other hills in a more relaxing manner. We drove up to Spruce Knob, the highest point in West Virginia (left), then walked -- not ran -- the 800 feet or so to the observation tower. With this slower pace, we were able to enjoy the wildflowers and butterflies that surrounded us along the trail (right).

But when you're in the middle of marathon training, at whatever pace, you still need to adequately fuel up, right? We found our proteins and carbs in the college town of Elkins. TJ had a tasty burger, and I had a generous grilled mortadella sandwich at The Jabberwock (left). The rock-climbing bartenders there informed us that The Icehouse, a cool bar in an actual old icehouse at Davis & Elkins College (right), had let its liquor license lapse, so we had to look for other locations to re-hydrate.

 

We were also shut out by the Brewstel, a hostel/brewery next door to The Jabberwock. Its owners, once again according to the rock-climbing bartenders, are a little, um, distracted at times, so it's open when it's open, and it wasn't. The next day, we also met an unexpected "closed one day only" sign at Blackwater Brewing Company in Davis. But we finally found some humectation at Mountain State Brewing in Thomas, where we wet our whistles on their Cold Trail Ale, Seneca Indian Pale Ale, Almost Heaven Amber Ale, and Miner's Daughter Oatmeal Stout (left). On our scenic route home, we also stumbled upon Hunter's Head Tavern in Upperville, Virginia, where we washed down Welsh rarebit with one more beer each (right). But hey, it came with a salad, so by Sunday night, we were right back to a lean, mean running machine routine.

Peaceful, rolling valley near a river that was bordered between the Finger Lakes (153Cong.Rec.E818)

After settling our dog's nerves after an unnerving night, we settled our own by heading out on the Seneca Lake Wine Trail. We quickly crossed paths with the Finger Lakes Beer Trail. The War Horse Brewing Company, part of Three Brothers Wineries, made us feel classy by putting our drinks in branded, red Solo-style cups (left). I opted for the Riesling Ale, which mixes Riesling grape juice into a wheat beer base; it was like the strangest wine cooler I ever tasted. At our lunch stop at Penguin Bay Winery, TJ took his turn with a Riesling (the wine, not beer) while I tried the white-blend Percussion to wash down leftover brats (right).

 

After refueling, we continued down the lakeshore to Two Goats Brewing, which had a bucolic atmosphere similar to Abandon Brewing Company (left). While we were enjoying an "ultra" IPA, brown ale, and great view from the deck (right), we noticed a guy wearing a Finger Lakes Fifties shirt. Upon striking up a conversation, we found out that he was already imbibing because he had done only one loop, or 50K. With more humility than I, TJ refrained from mentioning that he had run 50 miles, not just 50K, two days earlier. He also refrained from asking about no-shows at the race, so he wouldn't be disappointed about being shut out. 

 

After looking at it for most of the morning, it was time to take a dip in Seneca Lake. TJ bravely soaked at Sampson State Park (left). The water temperature was quite cool -- 68 degrees, according to a sign posted at our state park -- and the air temperature was not much warmer -- mid-70s to low 80s, at best -- so I decided to watch people shiver from the shore instead. I popped a squat on a hill overlooking the lake, as Sage wasn't allowed on the swimming beach (right).

 

We sped through the city on the south end of the lake, Watkins Glen, because it was full of both foot and car traffic probably in town for the Sports Car Club of America Super Majors at nearby Watkins Glen International Speedway. Then we cut across some land for a while to get to the city on the south end of Cayuga Lake: Ithaca. By way of a hilly driving tour, we saw the highlights of Ithaca College and Cornell University.

But we focused our studies on the Ithaca Beer Company (left). Dogs weren't allowed in the relaxing outdoor area (right), so we quickly sampled White Gold, a pale white ale, and Ground Break, an American-style Saison, then picked up a six pack of Cayuga Cruiser, a Berliner-style Weisse. We should've tasted that one because upon having a bottle back at the campsite, it was hard to get down; the increased lactic acid made it too sour for my palette -- and that's coming from a girl who rarely turns her nose up at a beer.

 

Before we had left Watkins Glen, we did pull into Watkins Glen State Park (left), but we soon found out that the main Gorge Trail was off-limits to dogs. I wasn't too disappointed because there were so many people, seemingly bused in as part of tours, that hiking wouldn't have been very serene. There was a surprisingly smaller crowd, and therefore more sedate scene, at the overlook of Taughannock Falls State Park, which we stopped at before trying to find a spot for dinner.

 

First, we were turned away from O'Malley's Cabin on the Lake because they had two 10-plus parties coming in at once, and they already seemed strapped staff-wise. Then we arrived at the Copper Oven at the Cayuga Ridge Estate Winery, which is part of the Cayuga Lake Wine Trail, 10 minutes after its last seating. Just when I thought we'd be eating more leftovers, we stumbled upon Wolffy's Grill and Marina outside Seneca Falls. Not only did it have delicious clams on special (left), but the view wasn't too shabby either (right). When dusk hit, we could see amateur fireworks all around the lake.

 

TJ couldn't just stop running cold turkey after a 50-mile stint, so on our way home the next day, we stopped in the Finger Lakes National Forest, site of the Finger Lakes Fifties, so he could get in a short loop. After indulging him, he indulged me by making some stops in Elmira, hometown of Mark Twain's wife, where he spent many summers writing. First, we saw the memorial next to his grave in Woodlawn Cemetery, which is a "twain" -- 2 fathoms, or 12 feet -- high (top left and right). Then we saw his study on the grounds of Elmira College, where Olivia Langdon went to school (bottom left). The octagon structure was specially built by Twain's in-laws, the Cranes, on their Quarry Farm; inside, Twain wrote portions of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, other novels, and short stories (bottom right).

 

 

Inherent hazards associated with fireworks ... in New York (79FR22919)

TJ had a CB Canandaigua Lake Ale during his celebratory dinner the night before at MacGregor's, so it was only appropriate that we stopped at CB Craft Brewers the next day as we transferred our tent to a new state park (our site in Letchworth was booked for the rest of the holiday weekend). Unfortunately, the brewery was closed for Independence Day (left). Down the road, we found a similarly inviting -- and colored -- structure in Honeoye Falls, but the only thing flowing there was the waterfall next to the former mill (right).

So we headed on east to, also appropriately, Canandaigua Lake (left). At Kershaw Park south of Canandaigua, patriotic partiers were already gathering en masse by land and by sea for that night's fireworks display. Despite the lovely view, we stopped only long enough to lunch on our leftovers from the previous night's dinner (right).

 

We continued our lake and lager hopping by discovering actual hops at Abandon Brewing Company (top left). The farmhouse brewery south of Penn Yan offered a rustic tasting room inside a barn (top right). Outside on the barn deck, TJ and I drank in four tasters -- including four-ouncers containing unique brews of Peppercorn Saison and Black Currant Amber Ale -- as well as wonderful views of Keuka Lake (bottom left). At the south end of the lake, the shore at Hammondsport was thinning out of spectators (bottom right). Either there were no fireworks on tap, or they needed a nap before the show.

We experienced some unexpected explosions during our first night camping at Cayuga Lake State Park. After picking up victuals at the one open grocery store between Geneva and Waterloo, the town that started Memorial Day, we settled in to cook brats on the campfire and keep our dog from freaking out over fireworks. Sage's anxiety was already heightened by a loud (and larger than campground regulations allow, in my opinion) group that thought freedom was best expressed through Southeast Asian pop songs and Modern Talking's greatest hits.

Please, don't confuse the German duo with British band Modern English, which sang "I Melt With You"; that hit song actually would've been more fitting when someone in the group decided to set off fireworks. The embers through the trees, decidedly bigger than bottle rockets and decidedly illegal in New York, sparked a conflagration with nearby campers already fed up with the group's noise. After a heated discussion, the group stopped shooting off flammables, but the shouting continued.

After quiet hours set in, a barely pubescent park employee threatened to evict the group if they couldn't keep it down. In an effort to expedite his efforts, the confrontational campers snitched about the dangerous incandescents. The doers denied, denied, denied, and without proof, the poor guy was left with his hands tied. So much to many people's chagrin (and mine as well, to be honest), the group was allowed to stay the rest of the night; fortunately, there were no more flare-ups, literally or figuratively. The next morning, the group's soundtrack started up again before 9 a.m., so we scrammed as soon as possible. We took Sage for a peaceful walk by the park's lodge (left), which has been converted to a bath house for the adjacent swimming area in Cayuga Lake (right).

Farmland sits in the Genesee Valley and is bordered by the Genesee River (House Hearing, 113th Congress)

To me, the Fourth of July means freedom -- from obligations. For the week of Independence Day, we liberated ourselves to enjoy some family time in Ohio followed by fun in the Finger Lakes. The region of New York has a lot to offer, including cooling weather and warming wine, but we picked the area because of the potential for a 50-mile training run.

Yes, I realize how crazy the phrase "50-mile training run" sounds, but you see, TJ has decided to participate in a 100-mile race. In August. In Cleveland. And according to his preparation schedule, he needed to hit the halfway mark by early July. (This is not at all unthinkable, considering he has already completed 50K and 50-mile races.) He had hoped to run in the Finger Lakes Fifties, but by the time we got our plans in order, there were only spots remaining on the wait list, which was closed. So TJ devised his own route along the nearby Genesee Valley Greenway instead.

Of course, I wasn't going to spend my week off just taking in TJ's stride, so sight-seeing had to be incorporated into the trip. On our way to our campsite, we took a spin by Lake Chatauqua, home of the scholarship- and philanthropy-promoting Chatauqua Institution. After all, the town topped Smithsonian magazine's list of small towns to visit in 2014. But idyllic idle comes at a cost: at least $14 for daily admission plus $8 for parking and even more for performances and classes. Not willing to drop so many dollars for so short a visit (besides, we couldn't get Sage past the front gate), we headed down the shore to Stow, where we had a picnic next to a very patriotic lighthouse (left). On weekends, it guides in 19th-century ferries bisecting the lake from the waterfront retreat of Bemus Point (right).

After cruising by Allegany State Park, we got to our campground at Letchworth State Park with just a little light left in the day. I didn't get to explore the park, oversold as the "Grand Canyon of the East," until the next morning, after TJ took off on his training run. I took in Upper and Middle Falls from Inspiration Point (top left), then took a hike to see Lower Falls as well (top right). The waterfalls break up the Genesee River on its way to Mount Morris Dam, where it is blocked to protect the downstream watershed from floods (bottom).

From the dam, I headed to the eponymous Mount Morris, birthplace of Francis Bellamy, a minister who wrote the "The Pledge of Allegiance" -- sans "under God" -- in August 1892 (top left). The town wasn't much to look at, but it was a good meeting point to replenish TJ's supplies a third of the way into his run. I replenished my own supplies at the Abbey of the Genesee, where I bought two loaves, rye and sunflower, of regionally famous Monks' Bread (top right). Then, I collected some more carbs, a half-dozen apple cider donuts, from the farmer's market in Geneseo (bottom left), home to a lovely historic district set across Main Street from a SUNY branch (bottom right).

I swung by the small town of Avon before my second pit stop with TJ. After ensuring that he was shipshape to finish the final stretch, I navigated 15 miles on the Erie Canal by car. My first docking was in scenic Pittsford, where only ducks were sailing the waterway (top left) in front of charming homes set canalside (top right). Two guard gates down the canal, Fairport featured similarly quaint buildings and structures (bottom left), including a lift bridge for vehicles and pedestrians alike (bottom right).

Before getting in lockstep with TJ at the terminus of his 50 miles, I had a little time to tour Rochester. I rubbernecked at the mansions along East Avenue, including the George Eastman House; the company Eastman founded is still based in the city. Kodak's main offices are across the road from High Falls. Water from the falls was diverted to create Brown's Race, once used as hydropower for nearby mills (left). Nowadays, the biggest business in the area is Genesee Beer, situated on a hill across the gorge from the falls (right).

I passed by Mount Hope Cemetery, the final resting place of Susan B. Anthony and Frederick Douglass, on the way to Genesee Valley Park, where TJ arrived looking fully fresh yet smelling fairly ripe (left). We concluded the day by celebrating with beef-packed meals at MacGregor's Grill and Tap Room (right). With more than 100 taps, it was hard to find the right hydration, but in the end, both of us chose regional Southern Tier Brewing Company beers that were on special. The $3.50 pints were a tasty and thrifty way to toast TJ's achievement.