The year is 1972 and I determine to set out from NYC and make Woodstock N.Y. by nightfall. I never had made a long journey, so I took the train from NYC to Valhalla NY, so that I might skip the first 20 miles and do the remaining 100 in comfort. I depart the train and set off north at about 10:00 A.M.. After a couple of hours I am feeling lonely, disoriented and hungry. I stop at a local greasy spoon and set off again, only to find a few hours later, that I am not even half way there. As night falls, I check the map and note that at this rate, I still have a couple of hours left to go. Being 18 years old I begin to imagine my own death by psychopathic murderer, seduction by sexy hippie maiden, and intoxication by overwork, disorientation and constant hunger. When I hit Saugerties, and cross the bridge, I am informed by a well meaning native that I only have a few miles to go.
When I did arrive, I found the town was tiny, friendly and expensive. A hotel room was $13.00 a night!!!!! Fortunately a fellow hippie was building a house a few miles away in Bearsville and invited me to sleep on a hard wooden floor for no charge. The next day I found another free house to stay in, along with four other guys that were waiting their turn to "service" the lady of the house, ( being cycled into the bedroom, one guy each night).
I took a job washing dishes at the local health food restaurant at $1.00 an hour. After a few more days of being underpaid, this enabled me to purchase a bus ticket to ride home with my Attala safely tucked under with the rest of the luggage. Never did NYC look so warm and friendly after an ill-advised but deeply enriching bike odyssey. Garth Libre