Riding

July was an eventful month. I finished my 2023 bike tour with a mad dash from Pittsburgh to DC. The last week included a day of slogging through mud on the C&O canal and pushing my bike up and over the Paw Paw tunnel detour. The next day I ran into my friend Kevin in Shepherdstown, West Virginia. In a way these two days summarized the entire 2,600+ mile ramble through the northeastern US. Ups and downs.

Shortly after arriving home, my son arrived from Thailand. We hadn’t seen him in four years. We went for bike rides and took in a baseball game. He had an interesting take on the pitch clock in baseball. He doesn’t like it because it takes time away from the social aspect of attending a game. Go figure. He’s currently doing a motorcycle tour of Romania. (And you think my bicycle tours are insane!)

I cracked 1,000 miles – 1,105.5 to be exact – for third consecutive month. The Mule crossed 73,000 miles in the process. The Crosscheck crossed 27,000 miles on the last day of the month (with a 70-mile assist from my son). Two bikes and 100,000 miles. Dang.

I took The Mule in for post ride TLC and the mechanic found the rear hub to be damaged. As luck would have it the replacement part is no longer available so I’m replacing it with a bomb proof sealed bearing hub. I should have done this before the tour but I know I would have blanched at the expense. In any case, the only thing I’m planning to do to The Mule this winter is to upgrade the rear brake.

The month ended with a ride to the Kenilworth Aquatic Gardens in DC. The flowers were well past peak but there were still a few gems to appreciate.

Viewing

I attended two baseball games at Nationals Park. I discovered at one game that Row N Section 204 is nicely shaded shaded area, good to know for those sunny, day games. My son and I sat 20 rows back from the Nationals dugout and I caught him a t-shirt during a between-innings toss.

I watched two Marvel productions. Ant-Man and The Wasp Quantumania was incomprehensible nonsense. Whatever happened to simple good guys vs bad guys stories? Secret Invasion was a Marvel mini-series echoing the darkness of Andor. Lots of ruthless killing with little warning. Bad guys who look like good guys. And a scene stolen straight out of the recent Luther movie: Nick Fury gets his mojo back by changing into his old clothes. Best thing about the series: Olivia Colman playing the head of MI6 (M anyone?) with ruthless charm. She can do anything.

By far the best thing I watched was Oppenheimer. Intense. The Oscars won’t take long next year. They’ll just wheel the awards on stage and tell the cast and crew to come and get their bling. Actor (Cillian Murphy), Supporting Actor (Robert Downey, Jr.), Director, Screenplay, Editing, Score. Picture.

Reading

Your Inner Fish by Neil Shubin is a nonfiction account that uses paleontology and genetics to demonstrate how humans, fish, and other animals are sprung from the same stuff. A bit like an overly long National Geographic article. It’s amazing how far genetics has come since the double helix was discovered in the early 1950s.

I have edited my blog posts from my 2023 bike tour and put them on journal form on Cycleblaze.com. Did all my typos and autocorrects drive you mad when you read my posts. Well, I think I’ve corrected them all. Okay, I probably missed a few and made a few new goofs. Also, I am aware that the title images on Cycleblaze are not right side up. I have no idea why this happened but the website administrator is working on a solution.

Anyway, relive the excitement of me slogging up hills in the rain for six weeks if you wish.

Last night in my very nice room at the Holiday Inn Express I drank two huge bottles of Gatorade. I felt certain that I’d be up all night peeing. Nope. My body took it all up like a sponge.

While my room as great, the complimentary breakfast wasn’t so hot. Literally. A bit of a disappointment.

I left at about 8:30. As I walked out of the hotel the heat and humidity hit me like a punch in the face. Gross.

After lubing my chain, I headed back to the canal. Last evening I rode a series of bike trails to the hotel. Rather than screw around with that I just bombed down the hill to the canal on the streets. It was much faster and I was able to see a little of the town.

Crossing two sets of railroad tracks was a little intimidating. After that I was on a stone and dirt access road for a while. When I finally reached the towpath I found it to be in tip top shape. Off I rode under the canopy of green, buzzing along at 11 or 12 miles per hour. Today’s going to be a cinch, I thought.

About 23 miles into the day I arrived at White’s Ferry. This landmark used to be a Potomac River crossing, providing DC area bicyclists with a 90 mile loop ride on the towpath and the Washington and Old Dominion rail trail in Virginia. Sadly, a financial dispute between the ferry owners and the land owners on the Virginia side has dry docked the cable ferry for several years.

I was making good time and sweating buckets when I started hearing thunder. After a few miles the temperature dropped about ten degrees then came the deluge. I was soaked to the bone. The newly restored towpath held up fine, however. Rain and more rain for what seemed like a half hour or more. Then I came to a tree that had fallen across the trail. I wrangled The Mule over that one and came upon another. And another.

It was a pain getting past all this wreckage in the downpour but I took it in stride; at least the trees hadn’t fallen on me. As I was approaching one rather large tree across the entire path, a mountain biker rode past. I looked down for a second and he was gone. How the hell did he ride through all that debris? I had to lug The Mule, one wheel at a time over three different parts of the tree. Once I got to the other side, I stopped to look my bike over, a man on a road bike flew by me. How the heck?

The rain finally stopped and I kept chugging along. The restored towpath was handing the water very well. I was impressed.

All good things must come to an end and the towpath restoration ended just downriver from the Seneca Viaduct. I was back to dodging puddles and muddy messes. The surface changed near Great Falls. For some reason in this area the Park Service uses some kind of sand. It was a sloppy mess and, in short order, so were The Mule and me.

At Fletcher’s Boat House I crossed over to the paved Capital Crescent Trail. Thank you Jesus for asphalt.

The only thing slowing me down over the last 20 miles was the crunching sounds coming from my drivetrain and wheels. I must be destroying this bike, I thought. Of course, just as in Lockport, my granny gear was inaccessible because it was encumbered with grit.

No worries. I was on autopilot. I made it home in one piece and began the tedious process of de-gritting everything including my lower legs which had dried towpath caked on them. The Mule will be getting a second washing when I have more energy. Suffice it to say, its chain and cassette are toast. Also,. the front tire, which I bought for my 2022 tour needs to be replaced. (No complaints. It served me well for 7,000 miles of loaded touring and another 2,000 miles of incidental riding.)

Miles today: 73.5

Tour miles: 2,653

Today was a day filled with surprises. Most of them good.

For starters the hotel’s light breakfast included large bowls and Cheerios. Coffee, OJ, two bowls of Cherrios, a couple of small donut sticks, and two granola bars for the road. Burp.

I bought some more water at the Dollar General in town then hit the rail trail out of town.

About 13 miles later I switched back over to the C&O Canal towpath. I was pleased to see it was in pretty good shape, a condition that would last only for another ten miles or so. Then the towpath became muddy again. Ugh.

After 30 miles I arrived at Williamsport where I expected to have an early lunch at the Desert Rose Cafe, but the Google informed me that it was permanently closed. It’s been a go-to spot for canal riders for ages. In 2015, we ordered sandwiches to go. When we unwrapped them we saw encouraging notes written on our napkins. Very thoughtful. So that was today’s disappointment.

I suppose it didn’t much matter since the only way to get directly into Wlliamsport from the canal involves walking up and down stairs on either side of a footbridge over the canal. (There’s a small rail to quote your wheels but it’s unusable with panniers.)

About ten miles from Williamsport a miracle happened. The towpath surface became nearly perfect. For the rest of the day. My speed popped up about three miles per hour and I could finally enjoy the scenery. The canal is really beautiful when your eyes aren’t focused on dodging puddles.

I had some munchies in my handlebar bag and I made it a point to nibble on something every ten miles. One apple, some crackers with cheese, the granola bars. I was churning through calories faster than I could replace them. At about 54 miles I left the canal and crossed the Potomac to get some real food in Shepherdstown, West Virginia. (My ninth state of this trip.)

I was cruising downtown in search of the Blue Moon Cafe when I heard someone call my name. There, standing on the sidewalk was Kevin Wurster, a repeat member of the Rootchopper 50 States and Cider Ride posses. Kevin went to Shepherdstown University and was in town visiting friends over the 4th of July.

We had a long talk on the street, then he joined me later at the Blue Moon. I had a chicken cheese steak sandwich that was outstanding. The chocolate chip cookie I had for dessert was also darned good. Not good enough for me to grab a dish of ice cream a few blocks away as Kevin and I continued out serendipitous get together.

Now fully stuffed I bid Kevin goodbye and I headed back to the towpath, headed for Brunswick and yet another new Holiday Inn Express. I intend to lay waste to the breakfast bar in the morning.

The section of the towpath near Harpers Ferry is beautiful. It’s completely shaded. The river is full of rapids making a calming sound that lasts for about five miles. The gaps in the mountains make for dramatic scenery.

Before hitting the hay, I went over to Sheetz next door and bought two big bottles of Gatorade and some snacks. I have been having leg cramps for about a week so I decided to drown my muscles in water and panther piss.

Tomorrow I head for home. It’ll be another 70+ mile day.

Miles today: 76.5

Tour miles: 2,579.5

I was thinking today would be easy. I was thinking wrong.

Things started out just fine. The GAP ride from Frostburg to Cumberland was payback for call the gradual climbing I’d been doing since Pittsburgh.

In some spots the GAP Trail is effectively a ledge in a steep hill. Deer were appearing seemingly out of nowhere, leaping from the downhill side to my left and bounding straight up the hill to my right.

Banks of fog hung over the landscape to my left. Fog occasionally gave the trail a spooky aspect.

I saw a pair of turkeys with two babies following. And at one point saw a line Turkey running down the trail; it looked like a miniature emu.

In Cumberland two bike tourists help me find the only breakfast restaurant in town. Th r food was okay but the process took well over an hour.

Google gave me perfectly useless directions to a grocery store. After some wandering I found it and stocked up for the 65 mile haul to Hancock on the C&O Canal towpath. I ended up carrying seven bottles of water because none of the water along the canal is potable.

Potable or not, water on the towpath itself made for an arduous slog of a day. From Cumberland to Orleans, about 45 miles, the towpath was one mud pit after another. It was impossible to enjoy the scenery as I rode because all my attention was focused on choosing a line through mud.

Some puddles had potholes in them. Others had rocks and sticks. I only dismounted once for an especially wide puddle that spanned the path. I swung my right leg over the rear of the bike and planted my right foot only to realize that the edge of the towpath dropped straight into the canal. Luckily I managed to get a toehold and avoid falling backward into the algae-covered water.

I arrived at the Paw Paw tunnel detour. The tunnel is undergoing repairs so the National Park Service built a 1.5-mile hiking trail for people like me. Imagine going hiking in Shenandoah National Park while pushing 80 pounds of bicycle. The path reminded me of Little Devil Stairs.

At several points the path was so steep I had to scream and grunt and driven with my legs to move the bike. All of this during a hot, muggy day, my first in weeks.

I was soaked at the top and now had to hold The Mule back as we made our way down. It was a great relief to be back on the muddy towpath. I saw a YouTube video last week in which a man does the detour with his bike and makes it look easy. It might have been east for him but it was at least as hard at Middlebury Gap.

In addition to the mud, the towpath feature five downed trees. A couple of them required taking panniers off the bike to get over.

From time to time my bike was so gunked up I had to stop and use a big zip tie to poke the mud out of the brakes and from under the fenders.

After hours of this, I realized I hadn’t been eating . I can tell I’m missing calories when my attitude goes in the dumper.

I stopped and ate a turkey sandwich from that grocery store back in Cumberland . It tasted soo good. I washed it down with a bottle of water from my stash and felt infinitely better.

After another five or so miles the mud lessened. At Orleans it all but disappeared. My speed picked up by about five miles per hour. I could finally take in some of the scenery.

13 miles before Hancock I switched over to a parallel, paved rail trail. Except for dozens of root heaves the paved rail trail was vastly superior to the towpath. Except, that is, for the scary rock slides. One in particular looked lethal. I could see evidence of others from repaired damage to fences that ran along side the trail.

I am staying in a Super 8 in Hancock, the same motel I stayed in under similar circumstances on my 2018 tour.

The hotel gives out rags and has a hose so trail riders can clean up their bikes before bringing them inside.

As for me, I had a layer of mud and limestone grit from my shoes to my knees. The shower was worth every penny I paid v for the room.

Dinner was a salad of sorts from Sheetz. It contained lettuce, onion, steak, and shredded cheese. I ate it with something called Boom Boom Sauce, an appropriate dressing on this Fourth of July.

The gas station was holding a promotion: regular gas for 1.776. Pick ups were lined up in every direction. One driver said he was paying “Trump prices”. I guess he missed the part about the Trump economic calamity that came with the cheap gas.

Tomorrow I plan on riding the rail trail to the towpath and carrying on to Harpers Ferry or Brunswick. If the towpath is a mess I might take roads to Frederick.

Miles today: 81.5

Tour miles: 2,503

I had dinner last night at a family restaurant about a five minute walk from camp, There were only two other customers, usually a sign of crummy food but the fish I had was very good as was the crock of chicken cheese soup that came with it.

I slept in an Adirondack shelter. I can’t say I slept well but fitful sleep and sleeping outdoors go hand in hand with me.

After waking and packing up, I decided to give fixing my brakes another go. This time I wasn’t tired from a day of riding so I was more patient. After a few failed “fixes” I figured out what was wrong, the brake’s tensioning spring was out of alignment. This meant that when I turned the screw to adjust the tension and pull the brake pad away from the rim, nothing happened.

I tweaked the position of the spring and turned the screw and voilà the brake pad pulled away from the rim. Success!

I celebrated with breakfast at the same restaurant as last night. I had an odd concoction of breaded chicken, fried eggs, biscuits and gravy, and, miracle of miracles, hash browns.

I hit the road headed to one of my favorite places, Ohiopyle State Park. The trail becomes a tunnel of green. The canopy protected me and the annoying limestone grit from off and on light rain. Small water falls appeared on my right, the Youghioheny River roared with storm run off to my left. Trains on the opposite side of the river thundered by. Birds tweeted. I could do this all day.

So I did,

After Ohiopyle came a series of viaducts and tunnels that were a blast to traverse. Overlooking them were massive wind turbines along a ridge line in neighboring Maryland.

Showers came and went all day. I’d give up and stop to put on my rain jacket and the rain would stop five minutes later. If I took the jacket off, the rain would begin again.

At one point I stopped to adjust something. I had The Mule propped up against a picnic table that had a covering. Instead of cower under cover I put on my rain jacket and made a run for the Pendleton Tunnel. It turned out to be the heaviest rain of the day. Two northbound cyclists sheltering in the tunnel told me that it hadn’t rained on them at all until that moment. This bodes well got the condition of the C&O Canal towpath tomorrow.

In Rockwood, where I abandoned my 2003 tour, I had a long chat with a woman staffing a trailside help kiosk. She kept trying to get me to stay at either a B&B across the trail (it looked like a terrific place) or the new hostel in town. I had to say no because I need to set up my days on the canal. There is no potable water and no food on the canal so starting and stopping points are important. Also, tomorrow is the 4th of July and I expect many resources will be closed.

I got online and booked a bed at the Trail Side Inn, a bunkhouse, in Frostburg. I was the owner’s first customer in 2018. He didn’t remember me but tonight like then I am the only guest here.

Miles today: 76.5

Tour miles: 2,421.5

I’m now 215 miles from home.

Earl and Anne prepared me a hearty breakfast and sent me on my way to the GAP Trail.

It was only four miles and a couple of steep hills from their house. No complaints here.

The trail winds through areas once dominated by the steel industry and eventually changes to a ride through the woods with the Youghiogheny River on my left. For the next 120 miles the trail climbs at about a one percent grade.

The surface is hard packed dirt with crushed limestone on top. It rained for the first half of the ride so limestone grits worked it’s way into every part of The Mule.

Over the past few days the brakes on The Mule have started to fail. This is caused by brake pad wear and cable stretch. I’ve put these brakes through hell so, if anything, I’m surprised they lasted this long.

After having lunch at a trailside food truck I stopped at a bike shop in West Newton where a mechanic adjusted my brakes.

They seemed to be working great but the grit did its thing and they started to rub. I didn’t figure this out until I arrived at Connelsville.

Connelsville had Adirondack shelters to sleep in. About a half mile from camp is a hotel that offer campers a shower for $15 and a hose and rags to clean off your bike. I partook of both and that’s when I learned of my brake problem.

I seem to have fixed the front brake but, for the third straight tour, my rear brake defies proper adjustment. I’m upgrading to a $200 brake when I get home.

If the rubbing continues I’m going to disconnect my rear brake. (The front brake does most of the work anyway.)

There are four other DC-bound riders in camp tonight. All five of us are going to get soaked tomorrow. Man, I am done with rain on this tour!

Miles today: 55

Tour miles: 2,345

Mikes to go: 290

I rode 1,702.5 miles in June, all of it on The Mule during my bike tour. I rode in eight states. I got wet. I climb and descended.

For the year, I’ve clocked 6,086.5 miles.

My butt hurts.

After hoovering the hotel breakfast bar, I headed downhill to New Castle. This being Saturday on a four-day weekend traffic was light.

Once in town the final climb began. New Castle is one of those river valley towns. Climbing out of the valley and over to the next is hard work. I took my time and made it up to the town of Energy. For the next several miles I rode rollers until my descent to Elwood City where I was stopped dead in my tracks by a 5K foot race. It took about 20 minutes for the last of the participants cleared the road ahead and I could get moving again. After Elwood City I descended further to the Beaver River.

I crossed and re-crossed the river and eventually ended up on a four-lane highway. I really, really wouldn’t want to ride this road on a busy weekday. At Rochester crossed the Ohio River to remain on a four-lane highway.

Being along the river meant that the terrain was level, a rear treat in this mountainous area. I also had a decent tailwind so it looked like smooth sailing.

I re-crossed the Ohio on the Ambridge Bridge. It was close to noon and storm clouds were approaching so I looked for a diner-type restaurant. There were none in Leetsdale or Sewickey so I re-re-crossed the Ohio to Coraopolis. My search for a diner was interrupted by a cloud burst. I rode around town looking for a diner until I gave up and had lunch at McDonalds.

Next came Neville Island then back to the south bank of the Ohio before crossing the McKees Rocks bridge into Pittsburgh.

In Pittsburgh I climbed up into the Brighton Heights neighborhood before descending right back down to a paved trail along the Ohio. As the path turned along the Allegheny River it passed a huge Casino and a small water feature.

This trail took me directly to PNC Park where the Pirates were about to start a game. Thousands of fans were lining up for admission. I dismounted and salmoned my way through the throng.

Free of the masses to crossed over to downtown where, unbelievably, I encountered scores of people dressed as furry creatures. I had stumbled upon the aftermath of the Anthrocon parade.

Finally clear of the masses of dubious humans I followed my Google master as it guided me in a big arc around the steepest part of the Pittsburgh hills. It made for a long climb and a frustrating time trying to follow the instructions through park pathways and alleys. I finally quit “bicycle mode” and the app put me back on the bigger streets.

At about 4:30 I arrived at Earl and Anne’s house in Wilkinsburg. I’ve known them since my Boston days in the 1970s. We spent the evening reminiscing, eating and drinking, and searching in vain for an all night pharmacy for a family friend.

Tomorrow I ride to Homestead where I pick up the GAP Trail and begin the 350+ mile, off-road trek homeward.

Miles today: 71.5

Tour miles: 2,290