The Niagara Peninsula: a failed adventure

Static vs. Dynamic Routing

On prior trips, I've figured out my route in its entirety in advance. I generate a cue sheet and stick to it quite closely during the ride. Since the route is set, there's nothing to worry about or reconsider. The only big question is, where along the way are places to stay, and how far do I want to go? And even there, I've chosen possibilities in advance, noted their costs and directions off the route.

This trip I used dynamic routing. I had an idea where I was going, but I used Google Maps to generate routes each day. This introduces more flexibility, which is nice, but also more choices and more to think (and worry) about during the travel.

Paper vs. Tech

I like paper maps. They're easy to operate. If they're big, they can have a lot of detail and yet cover a wide area. Sometimes they're waterproof.

A problem is that tech can't be trusted. Tech breaks, comms go down, there are limits on data plans, batteries run out, sometimes there's bad data. I don't feel safe being entirely dependent on tech; I feel like I need maps as a backup. So if I'm using tech, I'm bringing the paper too.

Using an iPhone is both awesome and a pain in the ass. The back-end data covers both wide-areas and minute details, but using it on a tiny screen requires zooming in and out. Although I have an OtterBox for mine, it's still succeptible to water and I've got to protect it. That and and battery life mean I can't just have it up where I can see it and follow along as I progress, without having to stop.

But it knows where every service (or at least many) is along the way, has contact information and often some reviews. It knows not only the roads, but bike trails. And among roads, it knows the bike-friendly routes. If I'm not sure where I am, it can pinpoint where I am using GPS. And if I go off route accidentally, it can help me get back on track, something cue sheets don't do.

Camping vs. WarmShowers

On prior trips I stuck to camping or, very occasionally, lodging or staying with friends. Camping is nice and relaxed: it costs money, but once you get there there's the ritual of camp setup and getting settled. It can be a pain in the ass, especially after a long day and/or if it's really hot or raining. But once done, I am free to do what I want—and most campgrounds have a lake or pool. The downside is a feeling of isolation and loneliness. A risk is a campground has no vacancy.

I found my first experiences with WarmShowers stressful, though it got easier with each stay. Rationally, I know if they didn't want me there they wouldn't list themselves on WarmShowers. And since I'm a WarmShowers host, I'm just taking a share of what I've given, so I'm not being greedy. But going into someone's house who I don't know, borrowing their shower, eating their food, it still felt like I was imposing—though I think I was getting over that a little each night, and it depended on the host. It helped if I was able to do something to help: one host let me chop veggies and spices for dinner, alleviating a sense of being a leech.

With that in mind, when I have future WarmShowers guests, if they offer help I should delegate tasks to them, to make them feel good too.

WarmShowers offers a social opportunity that isn't there when camping. It depends on the host, though, and how busy they are and stuff. Each household felt different too:

• The Buffalo house felt communal, with roommates and two other crashers-over from CouchSurfing.
• The cottage on Lake Erie felt like someone generous sharing a little piece of what they had.
• The folks in Cambridge seemed like they were both looking to connect with other people who were making amazing adventures, and trying to pay back into the world the generosity they'd received on their amazing tour.
• The young lady in Waterloo seemed full of youth's piss & vinegar & optimism and wanted to connect with others because she's a social person.

There are advantages to WarmShowers: not having to set up tents and hang food in trees, having a good hot meal and a nice fluffy towel and shower. In inclement weather, I can see WarmShowers being a huge boon. It let me stay in cities where I could rat around and see stuff and go places there. If I was camping, I'd be obligated to make the next campground— and therefore my time in cities is limited. And it's nice to just walk down the hall and take a piss in the middle of the night.

But there are advantages to camping, too: Outdoors, I'm in touch with the world. I watch the sunset, I feel the cool night air. Time alone enforces introspection; I find myself reading a lot more. I'll still meet some people, either on walks or at the beach or pool, or sometimes I'll just introduce myself if they've got a fire going, so it's not like I'm completely isolated.

And when it comes down to it, arranging camping is easy: show up, pay money, and set up. WarmShowers requires searching a day or two in advance, writing people to see if they're available, adjusting for their schedule if required. There's watching what I say, to make sure I don't offend anyone. Afterwards, there's writing a review and sending thank-you notes. None of it's super hard, and I can see the effort to get a night's stay is probably less than the effort to earn the money to pay for a campsite. But it adds effort expended during the trip, a period I've set aside for downtime.