I'm typing this entry with only my right hand, because my left arm is done up in a sling and fairly immobile. Today I broke my bicycle again: the front wheel is completely demolished from hitting a goofy shaped diagonal pothole. I was on my way from Coopersville, MI to catch a ferry at Muskegon to get across Lake Michigan, when the trip abruptly ended with trip to the emergency room. The weather was great; I was cruising comfortably; I was well on my way to another big day. The road thought otherwise, and after a couple of bounces on the highway, my body got the message.

I set a new record today for donuts consumed: 8. I also took my bike into the shop to repair a broken spoke that I discovered this morning on my way out the door. This delayed my start to the day, because I had to wait for the shop to open at 10:00, but I had a cappuccino at the neighboring coffee shop and read a bit of Oscar Wilde. Its interesting how some communities seem to organize their businesses extremely conveniently for me. I surveyed some of the patrons about the bridge from Sarnia, ON to Port Huron, MI, and the general consensus was that bicycles were not permitted to cross.

The afternoon cruising around Niagara Falls was spectacular, and I got off my bike for a quick hike down to the river to watch the whirlpool caused by the tremendous runoff from the falls up close. The day wore me out, and after riding only 45 miles around the falls, I collapsed asleep after a dinner purchased at the campground office: graham crackers and canned chili.

After a respite in Canandaigua I pedaled toward a relatively empty spot on the map labeled Bethany, where apparently a campground was hidden back among the farms somewhere. I set out to find it. It was there, after what seemed like a mountain range worth of climbing and descending, 96 miles later, tucked away, with only a scant two blue signs to lead me in. A couple nice climbs just before the final turn off put a cap on another extremely hilly day.