The Geography of Memory - May 2026
Life has been consumed by garden rehab for the past month, and I had not been out riding since my return from the south. Last night I decided that was too long.
I hit the road last night at dinner time, still wearing my garden clothes. There was mud on one shin and my hair was still twisted into two pigtails. I grabbed an old plastic bottle, filled it with Gatorade and strapped to the frame. I tucked a credit card into my phone case. I had left my helmet and bike lock down in Florida, so I borrowed my sister’s ridiculous neon helmet with a flashing light, not something I would ever buy for myself, and rode out without the lock.
The evening was warm and the roads were dry. Clouds sat over the hills west of the lake but the rain never came. It was my first ride of the year here in my Fingerlakes hometown and I decided to visit all my favorite spots, I was aiming to log 30 miles.
After arriving in town I cut through Sonnenberg Park and down Howell Street - past the old painted ladies with deep porches and trees hanging over the road. There were several folks out working in thier gardens, and here in town it seemed like the garden growth was weeks ahead of our hill top country property.
The pickleball courts were full. A goose put herself between my bike and her goslings at the edge of the Sonnenberg pond. I passed the VA hospital where my father stayed for several months after he broke his back. He liked being there. He liked being around the other veterans.
Entry to the VA Campus
At the corner near Saint Mary’s I stopped for a minute surrounded by churches. There are four churches facing off from the four corners of the intersection. Sometimes I wonder what they think of each other.
I passed the old wine company offices where I had worked years ago. The rusted steel sculpture still sat above the lawn near the road. I have never been sure whether it is supposed to represent a corkscrew or the spiraling twist of a grapevine. Probably the latter.
Wine Company Offices with Grapevine Sculpture
At Woodlawn Cemetery I stopped beside the stone chapel and took photographs. The cemetery sits above the town under old trees. Traffic moved below toward the lake. An older heavyset woman tended one of the graves outside the stone church. Something about her looked enough like my mother that it made me pause. My mother died seven years ago, so this would be an appropriate place to see her again.
The cemetary is a quiet place to ride
Down by Kershaw Park the waterfront was crowded. Kayaks crossed the water near the pier. The Canandaigua Lady sat at the dock waiting for another evening cruise. Restaurant patios were full and music came from the bars near the marina. Sailboats moved slowly through the middle of the lake. A couple of girls on horseback rode along the beach.
I rode past the boat club and the old boathouses along the shore. At New York Kitchen people sat outside overlooking the water.
NY Kitchen Gardens
Boatclub Bar
The bars along the lakefront were crowded for a Wednesday night. People walked dogs along the lakeshore path and teenagers climbed the willows hanging out over the lake. Near the water the air cooled after sunset.
I rode home after dark, my odometer logged 24 miles.
