tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86122923897021675812024-03-05T07:16:41.636-05:00yellowbiketalesMy Cannondale was new in 2002. Since then it has carried me across the United States, through the Canadian Rockies, and between the Grand Canyon, Brice, and Zion National Parks. It has carried me over the Swiss Alps and along Spain’s pilgrim trails. While the Yellow bikes has some dings and scratches, it has many more journeys ahead. Many of these trips have become stories and some of the stories have appeared in Spokes Magazine (a mid-Atlantic cycling news paper).yellowbiketaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03930267735169346620noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8612292389702167581.post-79964911935046949842023-11-15T08:11:00.000-05:002023-11-15T08:11:05.781-05:00FINGER LAKE’N GOOD<p style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size: 12pt; text-align: center;">Photos and route by Joseph Insalaco</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Before
starting this trip, I knew that we were going to see picturesque lakes and
waterfalls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also anticipated some
challenging hills between the lakes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As
promised, the scenery was fantastic but the first 2 hills were more than
challenging.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After cresting the second
one, I seriously questioned my desire to continue cycling and wondered if my
heart and breath would ever return to normal rhythms.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Once
again, we were drawn to water for our summer cycling adventure. With all our
trips along rivers and lakes, we sometimes wonder why we don’t trade our bikes
in for kayaks or canoes. On this trip we cycled from Syracuse, New York, up and
down the Finger Lakes, before arriving in Rochester, New York.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From there we cycled along Lake Ontario as we
headed back to Syracuse.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
Finger Lakes is a group of eleven long, narrow, roughly north–south lakes
located south of Lake Ontario. This part of New York state is a very popular
tourist area for cyclists. Besides its lakes, the area has numerous waterfalls,
parks, large cities, unique small towns, historic sites, museums, and many
wineries. Cycling north or south along the lakes is relatively flat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, cycling<span style="color: red;"> </span>east
or west<span style="color: red;"> </span>between the lakes involves serious
climbs.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In
Syracuse, we left Joe’s van at our friend Dick’s house. The 3 of us met during
our 2002 cycling adventure across the United States. Even though Dick wasn’t
able to join us on this ride, he did provide great hospitality and we enjoyed
sharing stories about our past cycling adventures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dick’s parting words were “some of the hills
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start of our cycling led us through the city of Syracuse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We first stopped at Syracuse’s historic </span><span lang="EN"><a href="https://www.visitsyracuse.com/things-to-do/neighborhoods-towns/clinton-square"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Clinton Square</span></a></span><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This square was the town’s original center
and now boasts a beautiful panorama of architecture from the 19th and early
20th centuries. Clinton Square also houses a stunning fountain park where the
Erie Canal once ran. This area also participated in<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the Underground Railroad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In Clinton Square we stopped at the J</span><span lang="EN"><a href="https://freethought-trail.org/trail-map/location:jerry-rescue-monument"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">erry Rescue Monument</span></a></span><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> celebrating the October 1,
1851, rescue of William "Jerry" Henry, an escaped slave from
Missouri. According to Wikipedia. Henry had been arrested in Syracuse and
identified as an escaped slave. Federal officials eager to compel obedience to
the then-new Fugitive Slave Act determined to return him to Missouri. The
arrest occurred on the very day that a major abolitionist meeting was taking
place in the city. Following one failed rescue attempt, a large mob stormed the
police station and rescued Jerry Henry, defying the Fugitive Slave Act.</span><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape
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out of the city we cycled through an area that at one time housed the city's
affluent citizens. Sadly, many of the once stately mansions were in need of
major restoration. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Soon,
we encountered our first significant hill. We had been warned many times that
we would have lots of climbing, but it took our first climb for that reality to
sink in. This climb was about 3 miles long with some steep grades. It was
tough, but we stayed on our bikes and felt good about beating this hill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the top, we asked ourselves, “how bad
could the rest of the hills be?” <span style="color: red;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Our
second climb let us know that the first hill was relatively easy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This second killer climb occurred at the
southern tip of Otisco Lake, just as we started heading north along Skaneateles
Lake. Not only was it steep but we had to do it during the heat of the day when
temperatures were in the mid-90s and the humidity at the same level.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While this climb was only one-half miles
long,<span style="color: red;"> </span>it required us to get off our loaded
touring bikes and push them up an 18 percent grade .<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was very difficult. We were afraid to stop
to rest, unsure that we could start walking again. Worse than the first climb,
my heart and lungs beat so hard, my chest felt like it was going to explode. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">After
we recovered, we next stopped in the town of </span><span lang="EN"><a href="https://www.skaneateles.com/"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Skaneateles</span></a></span><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">. There we enjoyed cool drinks and
sat under a shade tree with a great view of the lake as we tried to forget the
killer hill we had to walk up. Skaneateles is an Iroquois term meaning
"long lake"<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and the town dates
back to the 1830s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After reaching the
northern end of Skaneateles Lake, we headed west on an easy 6 mile ride to the
town of Auburn and our hotel for the night. After getting cleaned up, we forced
our legs to carry us to a nearby restaurant. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We
started our morning with a walk to </span><span lang="EN"><a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=anne%27s+diner+skaneateles+ny&rlz=1C1CHBF_enUS818US818&oq=&gs_lcrp=EgZjaHJvbWUqCQgAECMYJxjqAjIJCAAQIxgnGOoCMgkIARAjGCcY6gIyCQgCEC4YJxjqAjIJCAMQIxgnGOoCMgkIBBAjGCcY6gIyCQgFECMYJxjqAjIJCAYQIxgnGOoCMg8IBxAuGCcYxwEY6gIY0QPSAQoyMzMzNTRqMGo3qAIIsAIB&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8#lpg=cid:CgIgAQ%3D%3D,ik:CAoSLEFGMVFpcE9fLXM4YzFJQ1F3TWxCLVVuS2x4TjNEOVJSY2NQcHNWZjdtcTV2"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Anne's Family
Restaurant</span></a></span><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> .<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anne served us the daily
special of 2 eggs, coffee, toast, and home fries (which we both declined).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before leaving Auburn, we visited the home of
William Seward, who was instrumental in the purchase of Alaska from
Russia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We next stopped at the more
modest home of Harriet Tubman, who led many enslaved people to freedom.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Leaving
Auburn, we had a 20-mile leisurely ride south along Owasco Lake. What came next
was another monster climb that Joe conquered but I walked up the last quarter
mile. There were other climbs during the day and a few great downhill rides.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjc_O6s3U025RnfT7byUDT3dN0nfyXwpN8YlguY51PglHmI5WL7Tc-m1ZyNCs6o5XWhawBoFxHRRWPrOclej564J2UInAGSD-Y_rtmlsmjcNVz6GlCtuIlW7bjS-TnaNb2KFMUNDakPbljULrGZyYZmRFYVQYYFmE7NJNI0zhhmxWIgC-_ARJx-1p-0-KQ" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="174" data-original-width="231" height="169" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjc_O6s3U025RnfT7byUDT3dN0nfyXwpN8YlguY51PglHmI5WL7Tc-m1ZyNCs6o5XWhawBoFxHRRWPrOclej564J2UInAGSD-Y_rtmlsmjcNVz6GlCtuIlW7bjS-TnaNb2KFMUNDakPbljULrGZyYZmRFYVQYYFmE7NJNI0zhhmxWIgC-_ARJx-1p-0-KQ=w224-h169" width="224" /></a></div><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In
Moravia, we stopped at </span><span lang="EN"><a href="https://www.cayugacounty.us/1124/Millard-Fillmore"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Millard Fillmore's
birthplace</span></a></span><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">, a tiny log cabin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was the
13th US President.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From there we headed
west to Cayuga Lake, one of the deepest lakes in the United States, measuring
435 feet deep. Once we reached the lake we headed south to Ithaca, which is at
the southern tip of the lake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our route
to the hotel in Ithaca was blocked by a street fair where we were tempted by
the offerings of many food vendors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
slowly walked our bikes through the fair for several blocks before deciding on
a detour. However, that detour soon took us to a road that was torn up and
closed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rather than “detouring a
detour,” we proceeded through the construction to get to our hotel.</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgpDMHPHApE4T21yUvVcYMw3fi_-Ms0d_UtMwSE_is9QAD0PbOV4Q1zZ5vOyQRHQdmEra-mNsIXjJfYFM5vHeG6yRrSSgX2bYtB6S47ATSOOSnK0vkzmSwzSMz_YrqbETsSBNCuhtj9OiArXlqEZrv_MtiTQ54LYzGbCJA9-Q3N09MY5gJc4ElFWl6ZaBg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><img alt="" data-original-height="211" data-original-width="282" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgpDMHPHApE4T21yUvVcYMw3fi_-Ms0d_UtMwSE_is9QAD0PbOV4Q1zZ5vOyQRHQdmEra-mNsIXjJfYFM5vHeG6yRrSSgX2bYtB6S47ATSOOSnK0vkzmSwzSMz_YrqbETsSBNCuhtj9OiArXlqEZrv_MtiTQ54LYzGbCJA9-Q3N09MY5gJc4ElFWl6ZaBg=w276-h206" width="276" /></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The
next morning, we left our Ithaca hotel room a little after 6am, because the
internet indicated that a nearby breakfast spot opened at 5am.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">However, the hours posted on the internet
were wrong.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The sign on the door said it
did not open until 7 a.m. The only other nearby breakfast choice was a gas
station that advertised breakfast sandwiches made fresh daily.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">We bought 2 sandwiches but should have just
left town hungry. </span><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px; text-align: right;">A trail quickly took us out of Ithaca and into </span><span lang="EN" style="text-align: right;"><a href="https://www.casspark.org/"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">Cass Park and marina</span></a></span><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px; text-align: right;">. There we saw many runners, birders, and lots of big boats. Following the park’s signs to an osprey nest we were rewarded with 2 big birds perched on the edge of their home. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhAdX2F8AtQO22fA7EeeE4c0PhJN2XUL6jJAakOFnsUdq4FwZXICZmQdBfAmF_xy382dCnJiXLFCjVpOFUoBoMrDrPjZs7kknwnDIpfvhAhdpKIqVYtY7ufw-Or9toJkEwaLiwI9TLptjYCOuuiSaeL2o6stz5GidkcR1DL0o3C83oZUUba80jVIiN3O8Y" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="397" data-original-width="298" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhAdX2F8AtQO22fA7EeeE4c0PhJN2XUL6jJAakOFnsUdq4FwZXICZmQdBfAmF_xy382dCnJiXLFCjVpOFUoBoMrDrPjZs7kknwnDIpfvhAhdpKIqVYtY7ufw-Or9toJkEwaLiwI9TLptjYCOuuiSaeL2o6stz5GidkcR1DL0o3C83oZUUba80jVIiN3O8Y" width="180" /></a></div><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Heading north along Cayuga Lake, we
encountered more hills, but thankfully they were modest. That is except for the climb to </span><span lang="EN"><a href="https://parks.ny.gov/parks/taughannockfalls"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Taughannock Falls State
Park</span></a></span><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">. We wanted to see the park’s magnificent
215 foot waterfalls, which was high up the mountain off our route. After taking pictures and enjoying the view,
we had a great downhill ride, followed by relatively flat cycling.</span></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Continuing
north, we faced challenging head winds that reduced our 12 to 15 mph pace down
to a painful 6 to 8 mph.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Twenty miles
into our day, we dropped down from the Cayuga Scenic Byway to the Cayuga Lake
Shore Drive.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Despite the fierce winds,
it was nice to be able to cycle this close to the lake.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Large white caps were breaking on shore like
they do at the ocean. Eventually, our lake shore cycling took us to the Thirsty
Owl Winery and Bistro, where we stopped for lunch.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEizp6UUbl4rHCdpAQst2JolhkR3aWvQAAjXUxgPAmtNB1oNNTnNEbvowsWA3YToj0aAMPu2nfQSFlefNyHZwe6FKPbDYEwSMOCD1crRmMAaj90hjiH8pfftIP1LOgYR7sin4LP7IkR4Hg0s-UiCV6uiNn97-4TfNEOYo10eEQLXNpEL0cFBR7D7VFYKH3s" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="230" data-original-width="369" height="171" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEizp6UUbl4rHCdpAQst2JolhkR3aWvQAAjXUxgPAmtNB1oNNTnNEbvowsWA3YToj0aAMPu2nfQSFlefNyHZwe6FKPbDYEwSMOCD1crRmMAaj90hjiH8pfftIP1LOgYR7sin4LP7IkR4Hg0s-UiCV6uiNn97-4TfNEOYo10eEQLXNpEL0cFBR7D7VFYKH3s=w275-h171" width="275" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjWXlB-SPEAyDLOrMs5UqKHxOOmrU1edf8wIHLCi_NBn2TB64yCDg85Z9yLAfmAwVF-2AB0wnuJi4ArcC9Xkegv2e__8-7y_oRDT7neTdg6Ehm7gVlpPu5L0Hww5mcerZbj_C05XaRX_KnmLz2jTs30yE51VbwrWOYkS3QNqs1QKU0sbLfwQQ3l4nAlNhc" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="221" data-original-width="363" height="157" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjWXlB-SPEAyDLOrMs5UqKHxOOmrU1edf8wIHLCi_NBn2TB64yCDg85Z9yLAfmAwVF-2AB0wnuJi4ArcC9Xkegv2e__8-7y_oRDT7neTdg6Ehm7gVlpPu5L0Hww5mcerZbj_C05XaRX_KnmLz2jTs30yE51VbwrWOYkS3QNqs1QKU0sbLfwQQ3l4nAlNhc=w258-h157" width="258" /></a></div><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In
</span><span lang="EN"><a href="https://senecafalls.com/"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Seneca Falls</span></a></span><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> we toured its historic
downtown and saw where the nation’s first convention for Women’s Rights was
held in July 1848. Next, we passed the Seneca Museum of Waterways and Industry,
the National Women’s Hall of Fame, located in the 1844 Seneca Knitting Mill,
and finally, the “It's a Wonderful Life Museum” a local “Bedford Falls"
nostalgia attraction with displays & memorabilia from the namesake film.</span><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape
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we correctly remember our theology lessons, the prior 3 days we were in
purgatory and on the fourth day we ascended into heaven.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our first heavenly stop was at the marker
claiming the town of Waterloo as the birthplace of the annual Memorial Day
celebration in May of each year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the
summer of 1865, a prominent local druggist, Henry C. Welles mentioned at a
social gathering that it would be good to remember the Civil War’s dead
soldiers by placing flowers on their graves. Nothing resulted from this suggestion
until a year later. In May, the village honored the fallen with flags at
half-mast. (While President Johnson proclaimed the town as its birthplace, new
information indicates that an earlier celebration was held in Columbus,
Georgia.)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Within
a few miles we stopped to take pictures of a </span><span lang="EN"><a href="https://eriecanalway.org/application/files/4716/6611/7638/6_WTGuide2E_Cayuga-Seneca_p214-240.pdf"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Cayuga Cana</span></a></span><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">l lock and noticed a sign on
the other side of the water announcing a civil war memorial.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We debated going to see it but since it was
early and a short day, we decided, why not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Thankfully, we made the right choice and it became our second heavenly
stop of the day. This unassuming and out of the ordinary cemetery contained
dozens of simple granite monuments, each 5-foot high.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Beneath, there were tags identifying the
man’s name, rank, age, and where he was from. Both of us were moved by this
memorial, more so than when we cycled through the Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
battlefield on a previous bike trip. Simple, but powerful. Unlike our normal
behavior of stop, look, photograph, and move on, we spent an hour there as we
were captivated by its solemnity.</span><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape id="image12.png"
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<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">After
leaving the cemetery we started cycling west on the Cayuga Trail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trail was mostly a single-track trail
that paralleled the Cayuga canal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
trail was only 5 miles long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Near its
end we came upon a very unique 100 yards section of trail art (for the lack of
a better description) that we counted as our third heavenly stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were stuffed animals, toys, non-native
plants, stick sculptures, drawings, signs, and more unique stuff that you can
see in our photos.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As we marveled at
this interesting section of the trail, Jim, a runner, stopped to talk to
us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jim is a county legislator and a
regular on this trail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said that he
got to talk to the man responsible for these decorations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Actually, according to Jim, talk was too
strong of a word.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The best that Jim
could determine was that the man, a recluse, is a seasonal neighbor of the
trail and has made it his role to make the trail special. </span><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape
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</v:shape><![endif]--><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">One
and a half hours after we left our hotel, we had gone only 5 miles. This was so unlike us. Our day definitely started out as something
very wonderful. When the Cayuga trail
ended, we cycled south along Seneca Lake. Seneca Lake is the deepest Finger
Lake at 618 feet and the longest at 38.1 miles. At the end of the road, we entered a
deserted trail that took us through </span><span lang="EN"><a href="https://parks.ny.gov/parks/154/"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sampson State Park</span></a></span><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">. Leaving the park, we came to a fenced area
containing a large collection of brick buildings that were boarded up. We stopped a walker and asked “what are we
seeing?” We were told that it was a
former state prison. She said that the
local community was trying to get it turned over to them for development but
not having much luck.</span></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Cycling
along Cayuga lake presented a much different picture than yesterday when the
waters lapped the shore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today,
everything was calm (heavenly).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another
interesting feature of today’s cycling was that we had many wonderful (again,
heavenly) downhill sections but didn’t remember getting to the tops of any
hills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our climbs were very gentle and
barely noticeable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is, except the
last one to get to our hotel in Watkins Glen.</span><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape
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</v:shape><![endif]--></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjLcQfknNSEverCvi1JhcARCz1a9_6XseB8EAv9TgIexwAj9JfTEP7DA1iTDbjk50xwzLP_q7BNeg_Fffst7p1B-l0Cjp_wtPrsxkD1L88rQnTM-GiCuTXcBcc1XtVLZYAJ7fWRaqUNiZSRNoqvxqTm-yV5w_3TavNonBZMyNibDT8NhrWid74c9sRRiTM" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="242" data-original-width="183" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjLcQfknNSEverCvi1JhcARCz1a9_6XseB8EAv9TgIexwAj9JfTEP7DA1iTDbjk50xwzLP_q7BNeg_Fffst7p1B-l0Cjp_wtPrsxkD1L88rQnTM-GiCuTXcBcc1XtVLZYAJ7fWRaqUNiZSRNoqvxqTm-yV5w_3TavNonBZMyNibDT8NhrWid74c9sRRiTM" width="181" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">After
checking into our hotel, we took a short walk to the </span><span lang="EN"><a href="https://parks.ny.gov/parks/watkinsglen/maps.aspx"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Watkins Glen Gorge</span></a></span><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The gorge contains 19 waterfalls in a narrow
passageway cut through the rocks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In
many places it is 400 feet deep and to hike the 1.5-mile trail required us to
climb hundreds of steps cut into the rocks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The water sprayed from some of the falls was cooling and the walk was
not too strenuous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It felt good to be
off our bikes and immersed into nature.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Leaving
Watkins Glen, we headed southwest to Corning. Immediately we started with a
long climb that was only a 3 to 4 percent grade but seemed endless.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, in comparison to our early climbs,
it was easy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unlike the beginning of our
trip, the day was overcast and cold enough for us to keep our jackets on all
day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were no lakes between Watkins
Glen and Corning, but we cycled in what should have been a picturesque valley,
if only it were sunny.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We
had a late breakfast in Corning and then headed north towards </span><span lang="EN"><a href="https://www.corningfingerlakes.com/explore-the-area/our-communities/hammondsport/"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Hammondsport</span></a></span><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">, fighting a head wind the
whole way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The highlight of the day was
when we reached Hammondsport and checked into a new Best Western Plus with
exceptionally friendly staff and a plate of fresh baked cookies waiting for
us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The highlight of the day should have
been the </span><span lang="EN"><a href="https://glennhcurtissmuseum.org/"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Glenn H Curtiss Museum</span></a></span><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> that displays 20th-century
aircraft & motorcycles, but we were too tired to see it or go into the town
for dinner. But we did find comfort in the brew pub next to the hotel.</span><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape
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ride from Hammondsport to Pen Yan was along Kuaka Lake but we didn’t see much
of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were on the third day of a
weather advisory caused by the Canadian forest fires that were polluting the
east coast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While the advisory stated
that all outdoor activities be curtailed, we cycled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because of the haze we could not see the lake
or much else and it also made breathing challenging, especially on the
climbs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The day’s highlight was meeting
up with our old friend Ray<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #4a86e8;">, </span></b>who we also met on our 2002 ride across the
United States.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At that time and at age
66, Ray cycled from his home in Pen Yan to the start of our cross-country ride
in Williamsburg, Virginia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After we
cycled 4,500 miles to Astoria, Oregon, Ray continued cycling south to San
Francisco then headed east to Salt Lake City before he decided he had
enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Twenty-two years later, Ray is
still cycling.</span><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape id="image16.png" o:spid="_x0000_s1033"
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of the smoke filled air and the afternoon headwinds, we cut our ride from Pen
Yan to Canandaigua short by eliminating the ride along the northern part of the
lake and skipping the town of Geneva.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>While we eliminated about 15 miles, we were still beat up by the
headwinds. We did get to see the northern tip of Canandaigua Lake as we entered
the town.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEirWXc8ptexiEuzCMFCbRWOLE7tpAIR1DhM3bynSdvkAUOspAnOPD3FtDSzStb5KafcZI5NzIEWML7kg3vQAJr81h76eAlrVCTRvzRO-8_WWldt3qWAIn-vuk6f1x5IBw0CAeDjeyJoWF1NlCbvFf97oLoMDYcdT_s14duTKQQwCtMFUG8znDiQxJY4F-g" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="217" data-original-width="182" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEirWXc8ptexiEuzCMFCbRWOLE7tpAIR1DhM3bynSdvkAUOspAnOPD3FtDSzStb5KafcZI5NzIEWML7kg3vQAJr81h76eAlrVCTRvzRO-8_WWldt3qWAIn-vuk6f1x5IBw0CAeDjeyJoWF1NlCbvFf97oLoMDYcdT_s14duTKQQwCtMFUG8znDiQxJY4F-g" width="201" /></a></div>Another
cold start as we left Canandaigua, but we warmed up with a quick infusion of
joy from a trail angel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Leaving the
hotel, we had a short ride to an “open 24 hours” restaurant that wasn’t open.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we got there, only the front seating
area was lit and one person was setting up for breakfast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We walked in only to be told that the
restaurant did not open for another hour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Mary, the manager, must have seen the sad look on our faces and said, “I
will make you breakfast as long as your request is simple.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We both ordered 2 eggs over easy with wheat
toast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mary said that 2 eggs came with
potatoes, which we declined.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So instead
of potatoes, she cooked us some bacon and 3 eggs each.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The food was fine, but her kindness was
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cycled through the town of Canandaigua then headed out into the country.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is when things got confusing for
us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A little background:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Joe prepares our routes and down loads them
into our GPSs (which are different Garmin models).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After cycling about 10 miles of country
roads, my GPS directed that we turn right onto Mt. Payne Road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, Joe’s GPS indicated that we should
continue straight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After our painful
climbs early on, we chose not to turn onto Mt. Payne Road, which was in fact, a
climb.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In
the town of Palmyra, we got on the Erie Canal Trail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While most of the trail was in rural areas,
we did go through several interesting towns. We stopped in Pittsford for coffee
and pastries.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If our Swiss cycling
friend HP was with us, we would have lingered for an hour watching the pleasure
barges on the water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We miss his “stop
and smell the coffee” approach to bike touring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>To reach Rochester, we cycled almost 30 miles of the Erie Canal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Joe and his wife Nancy have cycled the
entire canal from Buffalo to Albany.)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiz11Tm3_E205ZJ79-pl27umd-XG76akaY-WqE5_POVbaBeG-6SwmNlrKuxWORj738I7xf_ecR1L6z4BLIF8PKeetvB-85WKrahzdIYdEtFLjqJPjmB3YXVKpj6mrvRV6mMDT2wY2flwHEby9NQ7xK5DxRADvofNQF4wkzLxnGx6eqLURaVSAISwS4ORGE" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="226" data-original-width="183" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiz11Tm3_E205ZJ79-pl27umd-XG76akaY-WqE5_POVbaBeG-6SwmNlrKuxWORj738I7xf_ecR1L6z4BLIF8PKeetvB-85WKrahzdIYdEtFLjqJPjmB3YXVKpj6mrvRV6mMDT2wY2flwHEby9NQ7xK5DxRADvofNQF4wkzLxnGx6eqLURaVSAISwS4ORGE" width="194" /></a></div><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In
Rochester we cycled 14 extra miles looking at various points of interest and
seeing the downtown. We especially enjoyed</span><span lang="EN"><a href="https://www.monroecounty.gov/parks-highland"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> Highland Park </span></a></span><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">designed by Frederick Law Olmsted in
1888. Spring-blooming flowers & trees line the 150-acre park and we made
stops at its castle, sunken garden, and amphitheater.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The other notable stop was the Susan B.
Anthony House.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After our downtown tour
we got back on the Erie Canal trail to get to our hotel in Rochester’s western
suburbs. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">From
Rochester we planned to head directly north to Lake Ontario. However, a bridge
over a causeway that gave access to boats entering Lake Ontario from
Irondequoit Bay had been closed for the season, making our planned route
impassable.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">So rather than heading north
out of Rochester, we headed east then north.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">
</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Once we left Rochester, most of the rest of the day we cycled in rural
areas.</span><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjgpalYLEbOI1rrEJKspPFEoAuuj5ETLpy7eFpL2rqA2Fy8IUGddSKjzJr6R72j2Za9E53HK5V48NQy1YnaBUN3oAV2ppu-CzuXSnXEmsmbMAZ9AJBDaDS8r2xA1Pw9lFfCnw8fVGlcZX6P8XHn74-CY4jvQxgmq_jumT10mIx48WKn8ETNbvPKDJ24bcc" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="176" data-original-width="243" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjgpalYLEbOI1rrEJKspPFEoAuuj5ETLpy7eFpL2rqA2Fy8IUGddSKjzJr6R72j2Za9E53HK5V48NQy1YnaBUN3oAV2ppu-CzuXSnXEmsmbMAZ9AJBDaDS8r2xA1Pw9lFfCnw8fVGlcZX6P8XHn74-CY4jvQxgmq_jumT10mIx48WKn8ETNbvPKDJ24bcc" width="320" /></a></div><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We
did enjoy cycling along the Lake Ontario shore. For lunch we stopped at </span><span lang="EN"><a href="https://burnapsfarm.com/"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Burnap’s Fruit Farm </span></a></span><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">near Sodus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The farm stand also had a café where we got a
great sandwich (that was large enough for us to share) made with bread that was
baked on site.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We also had strawberry filled
pastries that just came out of the oven.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We ate on their deck overlooking the farm and, in the distance, we could
almost see the lake.<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #4a86e8;"> </span></b>If we didn’t have more miles to go, we could
have sat there for hours. Next, we cycled to the historic Sodus lighthouse, our
day’s first and only planned point of interest until we got to Walcott. In
Walcott we saw the Wolcott Falls and the Buggy Museum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We spent the night at the Wolcott hotel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The hotel is old and that is probably the
best thing we can say about it. </span><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape id="image15.png"
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<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiHYBbIQW7jlhe9u17fBr8MLsmptlPJQekoqrn4DOgoIf6NUVGjUHhSEApPeaN-Xqh-GIPHOfKHvu5Dlh37BklApNUYNlilmL7P196jypsoqzhXr6pqcqf0WQQjOB7K-yV96ZeIQJC9mneh5j97t53BCNVOGQAnrzXza1fOj4TPW1dc_mFoVQgHDmxZ-Nk" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="191" data-original-width="254" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiHYBbIQW7jlhe9u17fBr8MLsmptlPJQekoqrn4DOgoIf6NUVGjUHhSEApPeaN-Xqh-GIPHOfKHvu5Dlh37BklApNUYNlilmL7P196jypsoqzhXr6pqcqf0WQQjOB7K-yV96ZeIQJC9mneh5j97t53BCNVOGQAnrzXza1fOj4TPW1dc_mFoVQgHDmxZ-Nk" width="319" /></a></div><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
next morning, we headed southeast toward our destination, Syracuse. It rained
for the first several hours making us uncomfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By the time we got to the Erie Canal, it had
stopped raining but the rain left the canal trail<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>sloppy, and we got muddy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the trail passed through the town of
Jordan, we asked about the availability of coffee and breakfast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were directed to a unique little place
called </span><span lang="EN"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/peacelovecoffee"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Peace Love and Coffee</span></a></span><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The shop is run by Sarah and Mike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mike made us breakfast sandwiches with fresh
biscuits and Sarah served coffee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sarah
and her friend make the pastries they serve.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We just had to try the cinnamon buns. They were fantastic and the coffee
was wonderful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sarah and Mike were great
hosts and we wish them well.</span><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shape id="image19.png"
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<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We
cycled on the canal trail for over 20 miles until we got to Syracuse where we
had about 15 miles of road cycling to get to Joe’s van.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our route through Syracuse took us on a trail
through a park where a large Pride festival was occurring. Many of the festival
participants were dressed in interesting costumes, but I suspect that the
participants looked at us with the same thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because of the crowds and narrow paths, it was
slow going.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the other side of the
park, we exited the path and got on a street lined with folks waiting for the
Pride Parade to come through.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We cycled
the parade route until we came head on to the parade’s beginning where a police
officer made us exit the route.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
final miles through Syracuse were hilly but uneventful as we cycled to the
van.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After washing the mud off our bikes
and changing our clothes, we drove to Joe’s home in eastern New York. The next
morning, I drove to my home in Virginia.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 15.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 15.0pt;"><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">More
pictures and detailed map of our travels can be seen at </span><span lang="EN"><a href="https://fingerlakengood2023.blogspot.com/"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">https://fingerlakengood2023.blogspot.com/</span></a></span><span lang="EN" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>yellowbiketaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03930267735169346620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8612292389702167581.post-86010242450893250562022-10-05T08:52:00.013-04:002022-11-13T06:21:46.137-05:00Cycling the Ohio to Erie Trial<p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> <span style="font-size: medium; text-align: center;">(Photos by Joseph
Insalaco)</span></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">When I told friends that I was going
to cycle across Ohio, I was met with skepticism, and asked questions like,
“why”, or “couldn’t you find something more interesting than Ohio”. I am glad that I wasn’t discouraged by their
comments. The Ohio to Erie Trail is a gem
and well worth the long drive it took to get there from Virginia. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">The Ohio to Erie
Trail (OTET) extends 326 miles from the Ohio River at Cincinnati to Lake Erie’s
shore in Cleveland. The OTET is made up of individual rail trails, canal paths,
and some country roads and city streets.
In addition to the 2 terminus cities, the trail goes through Columbus
(the state’s capital), Akron, and numerous quaint small towns and miles of
pastoral countryside. Even though the
trail is named Ohio to Erie, we started at Lake Erie and cycled to the Ohio
River. From there we cycled back to
Cleveland. Our round-trip cycling
journey totaled 650 miles. Many more trip
photos, routes, and daily miles can be seen on our trip blog.. <a href="https://d.docs.live.net/25ef9e0819beff6b/Documents/Bike%20trip%20STORIES/our-2022-otet-ride.blogspot.com">(https://our-2022-otet-ride.blogspot.com</a>/).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Joe, my long-time cycling friend and blog photographer, and I drove to Cleveland, arriving in the early afternoon. Needing to stretch our legs after 6-hours in a van, we took a walking tour of the city’s lake shore. There we saw an old steam ship, a more interesting submarine, a statue honoring Jesse Owen, the Cleveland Brown’s football stadium, and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. The one site that seemed to elude us was the International Women's Aviation Museum. I wanted to see the museum because I read several non-fiction and historical-fiction books about women's role in early aviation. Ironically, Cleveland hosted early National Air Races but denied women access. Despite having phones with map programs and a separate GPS we could not find the museum that was supposed to be “next” to the regional airport on the lake shore. Even though males don’t ask for directions, we did, and were told to walk another half mile past the airport. But the only thing we saw was the lake and parklands. Eventually, we turned around and went inside the airport to ask for help, but instead we found the museum; it was not next to, but in the airport. Finding the museum was well worth our effort. Inside we learned about some very amazing women.</span>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOHCiisyDBlgB1WPZA07GTjb-fByqHaPvWAMJjc7YDr9_hHhCzMDlXb9YVMacfT10YGHoQcWpYvZQO_O9Ajq4FD0yfYiSkXE-KbpyIiFqV99U0ya5C-qQe5JI3nEgtV-2Gv2O_Qn9AmOpOPITfdNFlkd1rCfDD8BqNhKbB6LbhISAU7cMXvZ11WJ6O/s6000/_DSC5818.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPxKf-ETyI2H1PMGuCNApz3hs5UvckDsfOej8eBC4fkGBQ4XdmNa2bwBPB2yNg_jwriRhHFyz8uYXPuaw9FG7aEpQ_D5hIU4-j5hbOpmDlx3YerOB-qiNvnkkWoR8fdu_zx9y0j96GtZ5hoCgamCmSu2i6aszrVsH5m48lO-236VgXMGlFGh01QCxA/s6000/_DSC5824.jpg" style="clear: right; display: inline; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"></a></div><div><span style="clear: left; float: left; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="84" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOHCiisyDBlgB1WPZA07GTjb-fByqHaPvWAMJjc7YDr9_hHhCzMDlXb9YVMacfT10YGHoQcWpYvZQO_O9Ajq4FD0yfYiSkXE-KbpyIiFqV99U0ya5C-qQe5JI3nEgtV-2Gv2O_Qn9AmOpOPITfdNFlkd1rCfDD8BqNhKbB6LbhISAU7cMXvZ11WJ6O/w127-h84/_DSC5818.JPG" width="127" /></span></span><span style="font-family: verdana;"> <br /></span><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> <img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="96" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPxKf-ETyI2H1PMGuCNApz3hs5UvckDsfOej8eBC4fkGBQ4XdmNa2bwBPB2yNg_jwriRhHFyz8uYXPuaw9FG7aEpQ_D5hIU4-j5hbOpmDlx3YerOB-qiNvnkkWoR8fdu_zx9y0j96GtZ5hoCgamCmSu2i6aszrVsH5m48lO-236VgXMGlFGh01QCxA/w125-h96/_DSC5824.jpg" width="125" /> </span><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5150" data-original-width="3149" height="110" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilW_WJKfJfyIZw-VF2E22LEmaFJEIiTWRHwzF3FcsbhIErHI5gWPGC6DOw7DbEty_1LK8M_4eih5NJlsCqXvBqWZVgQYeo3iL15hQ01gtP8wt5tD3Hjk_PvoiEHp6Flt8hFtFTQyIXodHbnpMW8HlAToJGbGAFBMG-MRsyNf2HDcU4ZqmlcICgk61h/w118-h110/_DSC5802.jpg" width="118" /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilW_WJKfJfyIZw-VF2E22LEmaFJEIiTWRHwzF3FcsbhIErHI5gWPGC6DOw7DbEty_1LK8M_4eih5NJlsCqXvBqWZVgQYeo3iL15hQ01gtP8wt5tD3Hjk_PvoiEHp6Flt8hFtFTQyIXodHbnpMW8HlAToJGbGAFBMG-MRsyNf2HDcU4ZqmlcICgk61h/s5150/_DSC5802.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Cycling from Cleveland to Akron</span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqwoUKhwgNuqFuQcWXDu5NrhT5YbvJ53w95Fkf132ucyJcCSOn46eF7aAfjB62k1B63l-SYVmLc3KjsErt4Ku-kBdyvToOcZ2i9WB4ZVZehboqDszkh8dt3ZOQ2rQ0WhAMGwhuS-BuOQdwORmDU14gF5pB5IanRZeJONWrk_Kx_y5GZg0eKQdorRd6/s5025/_DSC5846.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3488" data-original-width="5025" height="80" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqwoUKhwgNuqFuQcWXDu5NrhT5YbvJ53w95Fkf132ucyJcCSOn46eF7aAfjB62k1B63l-SYVmLc3KjsErt4Ku-kBdyvToOcZ2i9WB4ZVZehboqDszkh8dt3ZOQ2rQ0WhAMGwhuS-BuOQdwORmDU14gF5pB5IanRZeJONWrk_Kx_y5GZg0eKQdorRd6/w115-h80/_DSC5846.jpg" width="115" /></span></a><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Our ride began in a rain that lasted about an hour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The rain was just a minor nuisance and not
worth the time to put on our rain gear. We traveled on city streets in marked
cycle lanes until we reached the trail that led to Akron.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For the first several miles along the trail,
we saw Cleveland’s historical industrial area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>While that maybe a turnoff to some, we found the dilapidated steel mills
interesting and appreciated how the trail incorporated many of the industrial
“castoffs” as trail art and educational sites.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We stopped at<span style="color: red;"> </span><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;">the Steel Heritage Center, to look at
a steel ingot (a slab) several inches thick and several feet long that was formed
into a coil of flat steel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We also saw a massive railroad car used to transport the slag waste away from an iron furnace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Further along the trail, we stopped at a
display depicting a railroad roundhouse and a bench made from the wheel
assembly of an </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">abandoned
rail car</span><u style="font-size: large;">.</u></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-O4Y3nami8I6SjARnocZlIzzGo5sPlHSuuDACX-gg34Wp_6RCGNI_5zUCGrsUTkebd5BBfbY3-5vUzYUQVpg9_hZ6966YNmlbPOdNBIJhXW_nKSgWTOKoTHPQRQIagLFXEVdYjU4GogcN0rKfjo-mnQ9KSeIY84vTCeh_3bN34DjaWc8TLqB0rKsQ/s6000/_DSC5860.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="105" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-O4Y3nami8I6SjARnocZlIzzGo5sPlHSuuDACX-gg34Wp_6RCGNI_5zUCGrsUTkebd5BBfbY3-5vUzYUQVpg9_hZ6966YNmlbPOdNBIJhXW_nKSgWTOKoTHPQRQIagLFXEVdYjU4GogcN0rKfjo-mnQ9KSeIY84vTCeh_3bN34DjaWc8TLqB0rKsQ/w133-h105/_DSC5860.jpg" width="133" /></span></a><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbk6Yxs2JpuThn9FIgDNViVNcyxRWZ6baU0Xwlp9Yao6B14BIS3GrdxfWkjRZfnMvTHN3Oj4qq0_HNhZ6v1HHttN-ZSQVeUFhMH3KbLKFACqSEAxRvu0XpRNtbSkjC7jBmBOBlLAFLScOxJLo4_UMu1k75kPv6oUUMPsCOPk5dIClr0Zv5_nqI15qx/s5168/_DSC5859.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="5168" height="107" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbk6Yxs2JpuThn9FIgDNViVNcyxRWZ6baU0Xwlp9Yao6B14BIS3GrdxfWkjRZfnMvTHN3Oj4qq0_HNhZ6v1HHttN-ZSQVeUFhMH3KbLKFACqSEAxRvu0XpRNtbSkjC7jBmBOBlLAFLScOxJLo4_UMu1k75kPv6oUUMPsCOPk5dIClr0Zv5_nqI15qx/w138-h107/_DSC5859.jpg" width="138" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2tfjfd6wjDkN9dp-Dc0xiirPaN97uTe_Pxx0Ulg1Ba9duAmiosdaWlVRY7wrQUhftObitmDQTDuItyZaGTwIpiEkipe2qQX1hOQhg3iSYE5EvPy-ymi3CRl5z1yDIBACRuQAHkiD62Ecq9Idr_z7c0TphrYcZDZJLMNhq5c0X4xVJt5rnGCRhMiq2/s3762/_DSC5857.jpg" style="clear: left; display: inline; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2689" data-original-width="3762" height="107" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2tfjfd6wjDkN9dp-Dc0xiirPaN97uTe_Pxx0Ulg1Ba9duAmiosdaWlVRY7wrQUhftObitmDQTDuItyZaGTwIpiEkipe2qQX1hOQhg3iSYE5EvPy-ymi3CRl5z1yDIBACRuQAHkiD62Ecq9Idr_z7c0TphrYcZDZJLMNhq5c0X4xVJt5rnGCRhMiq2/w150-h107/_DSC5857.jpg" width="150" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqWV2_pR9YTDvbzQ-YMjpRCjpzb-l1-xkyVsmPfk0EL-foNRpjw94XsEO-h-zu2_5UPM0RW_Ppy3MQXIR2jPOqkGgYKh52-Bd49ZdZCuj0oFilI8cA-9jiFSJqxIs3jgSvYczSRo4NO4HDXeIwYuhOfqJAeJcj2rgmWFBQelcdCIg09bc7W5UWfyGs/s5025/_DSC5846.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3488" data-original-width="5025" height="93" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqWV2_pR9YTDvbzQ-YMjpRCjpzb-l1-xkyVsmPfk0EL-foNRpjw94XsEO-h-zu2_5UPM0RW_Ppy3MQXIR2jPOqkGgYKh52-Bd49ZdZCuj0oFilI8cA-9jiFSJqxIs3jgSvYczSRo4NO4HDXeIwYuhOfqJAeJcj2rgmWFBQelcdCIg09bc7W5UWfyGs/w134-h93/_DSC5846.jpg" width="134" /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMhUQGzPX2TS7YDF4WC8z1wiCbadUurWKH_vRGer3MvIzmAXj6K0PpJDzwa8vuPI43cXjeuEwVJefdkxWuVwh-T4g1axJB7-818NYlNQVeLFgSGms6PspCIdbDWBnT7FloyzvcShDdF-p2ceXc-CET-qFl-L3684_1XtCs92h_9mg_QtYCzmoQqpj9/s5008/_DSC5847.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5008" height="94" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMhUQGzPX2TS7YDF4WC8z1wiCbadUurWKH_vRGer3MvIzmAXj6K0PpJDzwa8vuPI43cXjeuEwVJefdkxWuVwh-T4g1axJB7-818NYlNQVeLFgSGms6PspCIdbDWBnT7FloyzvcShDdF-p2ceXc-CET-qFl-L3684_1XtCs92h_9mg_QtYCzmoQqpj9/w122-h94/_DSC5847.jpg" width="122" /></span></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5C2R0KFZnZ-nzVCQwfkiuiMm68kL74MjdK_Va8IaDO8Ii4m5mfP_0RfMjA0SjHB_xvyrt7ium2wULICFKgb8FYDcybLj3bo_hVTdXWAttvDve9150KVQpumkZQvc6GW2uTZa0Wh8EmcbjroxfPkNqRv2cB3M7iTs-EUDXPjK6lNJVGwb8maDoHuTD/s5264/_DSC5862.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="5264" height="108" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5C2R0KFZnZ-nzVCQwfkiuiMm68kL74MjdK_Va8IaDO8Ii4m5mfP_0RfMjA0SjHB_xvyrt7ium2wULICFKgb8FYDcybLj3bo_hVTdXWAttvDve9150KVQpumkZQvc6GW2uTZa0Wh8EmcbjroxfPkNqRv2cB3M7iTs-EUDXPjK6lNJVGwb8maDoHuTD/w143-h108/_DSC5862.jpg" width="143" /></span></a></div></div></div><div><span style="clear: right; float: right; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3696" data-original-width="4433" height="128" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaClSJVEu7GSzbL3JBDjnnAcS2pxP8hY3pCxE957sguTTxoCJIbOPb6CLK-laMo-30_PsIR9eqSe8A9soeKQgnhwxeLgGACr_jdIVyg_c2kWB8spygkUAq6025L9CtMOzOEzhnpKE4FwM2Ka2JHxGrbDvR890MDmDffu1VZ29LD2DRaK6o_CwW-nxZ/w154-h128/_DSC5849.jpg" width="154" /></span><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">For breakfast, we sought out the Rawley Inn that was just
off the trail and a few miles from our hotel.
The Rawley Inn is a Triple D featured restaurant (<a href="https://www.flavortownusa.com/locations/2342/rowley-inn/">https://www.flavortownusa.com/locations/2342/rowley-inn/</a>). Although some of the menu items seemed exotic
to our simple upbringings, our food was very good. Across the street from the Rawley Inn is the
house was used in the classic movie “Christmas Story” (<a href="https://www.achristmasstoryhouse.com/">https://www.achristmasstoryhouse.com/</a>).
This movie is a “must see” for my grandsons at Christmas. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaClSJVEu7GSzbL3JBDjnnAcS2pxP8hY3pCxE957sguTTxoCJIbOPb6CLK-laMo-30_PsIR9eqSe8A9soeKQgnhwxeLgGACr_jdIVyg_c2kWB8spygkUAq6025L9CtMOzOEzhnpKE4FwM2Ka2JHxGrbDvR890MDmDffu1VZ29LD2DRaK6o_CwW-nxZ/s4433/_DSC5849.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Next, we transitioned onto the Ohio and Erie Canal path.
According to Wikipedia: The Ohio and Erie Canal, completed in 1832, connected
Cleveland on Lake Erie to Cincinnati on the Ohio River, creating the state’s
most important superhighway. In the 1970s
it became part of the Cuyahoga Valley National Park and eventually the trail
evolved into a recreation corridor for cyclists and hikers.</span></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We passed through many small towns and natural areas where
wildlife abounded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The canal’s waters hosted
blue herons and the path was often blocked by flocks of </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">geese </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">t</span><span style="font-size: medium;">hat blocked the trail. Despite our noisy efforts, the geese
did not want to move</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;">.</span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9NY4nTyPgMXGDw_P6DQdl2-bxSyBqbLJI4VJeGRbcIjlK2x2GMcGDoFekgJcQmIRmgVwDiX3-RAzMgY4UMr3MXwOoQ40saJcRYFg_19mwWf0lZhbW19lG1Lsx3xcR-54myMLDQJbTR_c13VH5w_Vj9o8iRr6CBi20EU2wbVoFO86NTk8EGdilZATV/s2944/_DSC6160.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2696" data-original-width="2944" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9NY4nTyPgMXGDw_P6DQdl2-bxSyBqbLJI4VJeGRbcIjlK2x2GMcGDoFekgJcQmIRmgVwDiX3-RAzMgY4UMr3MXwOoQ40saJcRYFg_19mwWf0lZhbW19lG1Lsx3xcR-54myMLDQJbTR_c13VH5w_Vj9o8iRr6CBi20EU2wbVoFO86NTk8EGdilZATV/w131-h120/_DSC6160.jpg" width="131" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /> <span style="color: red;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">We arrived in Akron in mid-afternoon. Not that we had lots of miles to cycle, but rather there was so much to see along the way and we made many photo stops. Akron was founded in 1825. Around the turn of the century, Akron’s tire manufacturing helped it become known as the “rubber capital of the world.” Other Akron trivia includes, the hamburger. It was supposedly invented there. Thomas Edison visited often (his wife was an Akronite). And, NBA superstar Labron James calls Akron home—and the Main Street was renamed “King James Way.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><u>Akron to Millersburg</u></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">We left Akron at first light without breakfast. At each of the trail’s road crossing we checked Google for nearby restaurants and asked other trail users if they knew of a place for breakfast. About 25 miles into our ride, we finally found a great breakfast at Sisters Café. After cycling on trails for 40 miles we had to transition unto country roads for about 20 miles of country roads. While almost no car traffic, there were many Amish buggies on the hilly roads. This section made us appreciate the relatively flat canal trail that we had been riding earlier that day. The last 10 miles of our day were back on a flat trail that had the distinction of being a cycling and buggy trail. We were told that these trails were meant to keep buggies and bicycles off the busy roads</span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_zCz7AikZsnoI9eu2H0ARDcavYr9zbW9olBhlENy5u3hHfcPbK5LtKfVFhu9kw9lZZv3ZkyG3N6uPjj5wQRVnl5lCKRupM_bff4oZbJCmwsS0h-b-XlvGg8cmgkCbGz4kOlXTUouCWg30ZYLnwLEalgmnqmHarToo_4fx676hg1B49sjbXaJwTCyJ/s5376/_DSC5964.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2944" data-original-width="5376" height="94" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_zCz7AikZsnoI9eu2H0ARDcavYr9zbW9olBhlENy5u3hHfcPbK5LtKfVFhu9kw9lZZv3ZkyG3N6uPjj5wQRVnl5lCKRupM_bff4oZbJCmwsS0h-b-XlvGg8cmgkCbGz4kOlXTUouCWg30ZYLnwLEalgmnqmHarToo_4fx676hg1B49sjbXaJwTCyJ/w172-h94/_DSC5964.jpg" width="172" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Millersburg has a vibrant business district and we stayed in
the Hotel Millersburg. The hotel is
listed on the National Register of Historic Places and President Grover
Cleveland reportedly stayed there on December 8, 1800. Besides hosting a
president, the hotel also hosts quilter retreats and its halls were adorned
with many intricate quilts.<i> </i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Near the end of our walking tour of Millersburg, we stopped
at Troyer’s Sweet Shoppe were the Chocolatier, Verna provided us with some rich
chocolates. She told us that she was the third generation Chocolatier in the
shop founded by her grandmother. As we
wandered back to the hotel, we passed the Millersburg Creamery. After eating more chocolates than a healthy
diet would allow, we did restrain from getting ice cream at the very popular shop. </span><s><span style="color: red;"><o:p></o:p></span></s></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglkUk1W31w7QWzSbflUAJmiQB0BQuWjS5CvKGfL82s6q_9wvYD5kzHc-SKA3bl64xn3Tp2oQzaKeJWF0kBgEQEKVQf3jOkgOBLpYFuoJavk6iy1Xt9NNx1O_9n4Cr-l5l0K4iVq270eRgrdLuwGVCbo-j-v0gXYWZZT2r6UfclYuVISka-OCEiHbyM/s3584/_DSC5979.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3584" data-original-width="3362" height="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglkUk1W31w7QWzSbflUAJmiQB0BQuWjS5CvKGfL82s6q_9wvYD5kzHc-SKA3bl64xn3Tp2oQzaKeJWF0kBgEQEKVQf3jOkgOBLpYFuoJavk6iy1Xt9NNx1O_9n4Cr-l5l0K4iVq270eRgrdLuwGVCbo-j-v0gXYWZZT2r6UfclYuVISka-OCEiHbyM/w126-h134/_DSC5979.jpg" width="126" /></span></a></i></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Millersburg to Mt, Vernon<o:p></o:p></span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">After 20 years of cycling trips, our ride from Millersburg
to Mt. Vernon was one of the nicest cycling days either of us could
remember.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course, we are old and our
memories are disappearing. Really, we had great weather and fantastic cycling.
(This is what my notes indicated, but as I write this story, I can’t remember
any specifics.)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Our morning started with an early breakfast that we found
only 3 blocks from our hotel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were
surprised to find a restaurant that opened at 6 a.m.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Afterward, it was only a short, downhill ride
from our hotel to the trail. This trail is a continuation of the bike/buggy
trail we came into town on the previous day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Our ride west was flat, straight, and fast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trail only lasted 7 miles before it ended
and we had to cycle on country roads. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The roads could have been a continuation of
the trail, because we did not see any cars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This section was also about 7 miles long and had gentle rolling hills
that allowed easy cycling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Near the end
of this segment, we heard the “clip clop” of horses gaining on us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were going 12 mph when 4 buggies easily
passed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were filled with Amish
families.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3mHkvxZP4B4d1ylF4xauhMT6OZEqpxoLLXtshtI9cRzXC62RVv6-DafyCcs2nHD3crH6HF75wSYjl_4pj6pE-EarXjvG7WlS8_v7O3yLeKezF_qtJa3j6aLBR-Fk_c1bK3VyvgJNl9TmWJxT6tvt69svAOt4Ckqwp6idAkv1tQZWEY796_HZnC5bU/s4322/_DSC5982.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3536" data-original-width="4322" height="139" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3mHkvxZP4B4d1ylF4xauhMT6OZEqpxoLLXtshtI9cRzXC62RVv6-DafyCcs2nHD3crH6HF75wSYjl_4pj6pE-EarXjvG7WlS8_v7O3yLeKezF_qtJa3j6aLBR-Fk_c1bK3VyvgJNl9TmWJxT6tvt69svAOt4Ckqwp6idAkv1tQZWEY796_HZnC5bU/w170-h139/_DSC5982.jpg" width="170" /></span></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">When we got to the next trail, the buggies were stopped at a
trailhead picnic area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While they waved,
we were not asked to join their picnic. So, we got on the trail and headed
up the mountain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trail was another
buggy/bike trail on a former railroad right-of-way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We climbed for 3 miles on a gentle slope that
allowed us to pedal at 10 mph with ease.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Along the way, many more buggies passed us but we did not see any other
cyclists.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">As we crested the mountain, we saw still more buggies. Our descent on the other side of the mountain
was equally as gentle as our climb. Thus, no screaming downhill ride. This trail ended after 12 blissful miles. We next transitioned through a small town and
then got on our last trail for the day.
No buggies were allowed on this trail but we saw lots of walkers and
cyclists. Along the way, we cycled over
the Bridge of Dreams, a 370-foot covered bridge located near Brinkhaven, Ohio.
The 1920s bridge was built for the railroad and in 1998 was incorporated into
the trail. Reportedly, it is the second
longest covered bridge in Ohio and third longest covered bridge in the United
States<span style="color: red;">.</span> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj84Va7bMJpImDa2hBvSBUsdFNTBKdHgnwrJNkB5dcYIvQOvgw3jZg3kBQ_pvoceU911aQhM0MQN20I8EB5A0nf1PHLnPdrBIOtDPKDoLVR2yPlaGTneRewJfYA9cGGUfh5UFQvD36ZuqiSiwBy5VyzkJid9gLWXGdMTnI9R4UnnA3sq99fx37RmXMS/s6000/_DSC5991.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3280" data-original-width="6000" height="111" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj84Va7bMJpImDa2hBvSBUsdFNTBKdHgnwrJNkB5dcYIvQOvgw3jZg3kBQ_pvoceU911aQhM0MQN20I8EB5A0nf1PHLnPdrBIOtDPKDoLVR2yPlaGTneRewJfYA9cGGUfh5UFQvD36ZuqiSiwBy5VyzkJid9gLWXGdMTnI9R4UnnA3sq99fx37RmXMS/w202-h111/_DSC5991.jpg" width="202" /></span></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">We stayed in the town of Mt. Vernon founded in 1805 and
named after George Washington’s estate.
We saw a historical marker indicating that the town was the location of
Johnny Appleseed’s first orchard. The
town was winner of Ohio Magazine’s 2018 Best Home Town award. The town was
vibrant with restaurants and shops. We visited the Woodward Opera House, the
oldest opera theater of its kind in the United States. The theater, after many
years of renovation and restoration, had been transformed into a local cultural
and performing-arts center.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Mt. Vernon to Columbus<o:p></o:p></span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">We left Mt. Vernon early to beat the predicted rain and were
successful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our ride was easy but
temperature and humidity combined to create a steam bath.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The day’s “high points” were found between
the 15- and 20-mile marks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first was
a marker that indicated we were at the highest point on the Ohio to Erie
Trail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfvdRI-BSBef6abyWK6-w_m4wmZNJt-7LBUV11kLAvZRHyvJqy0HVj0ULXtvuO_jhjp2laj7qhHUzNi0vp8rwAfc3zXspURtITqJi6yyjBh6D66m-QGWqvMLlfDb56mnVzWws0en3EPVGDz_7uolW3zfR3Nk0pziKhf7lGQIaHmxrWGIxxJv2d4sen/s1082/IMG_0770.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1082" data-original-width="871" height="123" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfvdRI-BSBef6abyWK6-w_m4wmZNJt-7LBUV11kLAvZRHyvJqy0HVj0ULXtvuO_jhjp2laj7qhHUzNi0vp8rwAfc3zXspURtITqJi6yyjBh6D66m-QGWqvMLlfDb56mnVzWws0en3EPVGDz_7uolW3zfR3Nk0pziKhf7lGQIaHmxrWGIxxJv2d4sen/w100-h123/IMG_0770.jpg" width="100" /></span></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">We concluded that the rest of our journey would be easy
because it would be downhill to the Ohio River.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The second marker indicated that we were at the halfway point to the
Ohio River.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG9dN9Xfv8zv4VDylkCjvhqbR12NR2fb0EW4ksJwe3xTYq1PHAatqTw3epkx4DM5s6zZV83xuLXE2wetBWFcWrl2a1GxuXpTyc6_dkqiC9pHhSdxHn-th7ruIVJpvytkzrcvid2z8q494JJgko5qgxkBxvrdYPEsWJ_IDCIusGxi2XmXsRCgOnTtkq/s4466/_DSC6144.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4466" data-original-width="4000" height="110" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG9dN9Xfv8zv4VDylkCjvhqbR12NR2fb0EW4ksJwe3xTYq1PHAatqTw3epkx4DM5s6zZV83xuLXE2wetBWFcWrl2a1GxuXpTyc6_dkqiC9pHhSdxHn-th7ruIVJpvytkzrcvid2z8q494JJgko5qgxkBxvrdYPEsWJ_IDCIusGxi2XmXsRCgOnTtkq/w99-h110/_DSC6144.jpg" width="99" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Near the second
marker we met Dan, a trail volunteer assessing the trail’s condition after the
previous night’s storm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He mentioned
that he knew 2 of the founders of Bikecentennial, Greg and June Siple who were
from that part of Ohio.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bikecentennial
took thousands of cyclists across the United States in 1976 and led to the
creation of the Adventure Cycling Association. The first part of Greg and
June’s Hemistour from Alaska to Argentina was featured in National Geographic’s
May 1973 magazine.<o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Columbus, Ohio’s capital city was entered by way of trails
and marked cycling lanes on city streets. The first European settlers arrived
in 1797. The city was named for Italian explorer Christopher Columbus and
became the state capital in 1816. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Columbus to Xenia<o:p></o:p></span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">The start of our day was hot and it got hotter as the day
progressed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After about 7 miles of
cycling, we found a place for breakfast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Actually, we had a “choice” of either McDonalds or Tim Hortons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hum, American or Canadian fast-food breakfasts?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We chose Tim Hortons because we like their
muffins. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">While we saw lots of people on the trail and had extended
conversations with two. First, we met William Galloway riding a Catrike (a
3-wheel recumbent) and pulling a trailer.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS_jHbzSF5ibVn2GzayeHiajOuQ94hX48Qehg3zTE5ryMgkru1vg-5VaJSYIfIeUw8oGGW3OMfeRmzppazKm2mbqBkTFIGVIf5MajaEam8yAV9Sdvn-4QkVvE58tKfeR7HLn-QQjadgFe9z0O5BcA9Nf74YGehSGkR0aj3Hvlpua2-G8T-pAd0Dcib/s6000/_DSC6057.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="112" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS_jHbzSF5ibVn2GzayeHiajOuQ94hX48Qehg3zTE5ryMgkru1vg-5VaJSYIfIeUw8oGGW3OMfeRmzppazKm2mbqBkTFIGVIf5MajaEam8yAV9Sdvn-4QkVvE58tKfeR7HLn-QQjadgFe9z0O5BcA9Nf74YGehSGkR0aj3Hvlpua2-G8T-pAd0Dcib/w168-h112/_DSC6057.jpg" width="168" /></span></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">He was on his fourth trip across the United States in four
years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was very pleasant and neat
looking. William was in no hurry to move on, nor were we.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He surprised us by saying that he was
homeless but never without a place to stay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When he wasn’t in his tent or trail shelter, he was with friends or kind
strangers. He said that he started his travels after recovering from a brain
injury.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Over all, he has cycled 37,500
miles and gone through 3 trikes and 5 trailers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The second person we met was Heidi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She was setting up a lunch stop for 11 cyclists on a Wilderness
Voyageurs tour on the OTET.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her company
is located in Ohiopyle, PA and provides fully supported bike adventures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each day we carried our own gear and looked
for places to eat and sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heidi’s
cyclists had their gear transported in a trailer to their next night’s lodging,
breakfast and dinner in prearranged restaurants, and lunch provide during their
ride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heidi filled our water bottles and
shared some wonderful Amish pecan cinnamon rolls. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDBj2yQb1rua9nJ9MxougdIJ7ObQhOEUi4-QqtyPC9eQ02rQ7ifCbfhzLweJwwfaV66e4ZXl2CXPTt1v5B2MPzeL1EUdIhJ5nVPbNJfEFoquBkp7Bv8DtNN29VM1zvqdeYZ4fW-KbwB91IK0lxzojyDUO9lPbNCmDgv3c1FcdPGCml9y_17xINPrt2/s5505/_DSC6076.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3715" data-original-width="5505" height="90" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDBj2yQb1rua9nJ9MxougdIJ7ObQhOEUi4-QqtyPC9eQ02rQ7ifCbfhzLweJwwfaV66e4ZXl2CXPTt1v5B2MPzeL1EUdIhJ5nVPbNJfEFoquBkp7Bv8DtNN29VM1zvqdeYZ4fW-KbwB91IK0lxzojyDUO9lPbNCmDgv3c1FcdPGCml9y_17xINPrt2/w133-h90/_DSC6076.jpg" width="133" /></span></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">The Ohio to Erie Trail is the overarching name and is
comprised of many trails with their own names.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>About half our day cycling to Xenia was on the Prairie Grass Trail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was freshly paved which was nice. However,
the trail lacked much interest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We saw mostly
farm fields but we enjoyed the diversions through the small towns along the
trail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of the towns, London, founded
in the early 1800s, as a Methodist community. Next was Cedarville where we
passed the Cedarville Opera House.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Finally, we arrived in Xenia which was founded in 1803, the same year
Ohio was admitted to the Union. Xenia was once a safe haven for enslaved people
traveling to freedom along the Underground Railroad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Xenia to Cincinnati<o:p></o:p></span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Again, we left our hotel without breakfast. We had a long day ahead of us, so an early
start was necessary. What we failed to
factor in was the impact of previous night’s severe thunderstorm. Our first hour on the trail was in the dark, and
we encountered 20 miles of downed branches and trees obstructing our
passage. It would have been a difficult
obstacle course for us even if we had waited for the daylight. Along the way we
cleared paths, cycled around debris, or lugged our bikes over fallen
trees. Our clean-up stops were met by
hungry mosquitoes and Joe ended up with a poison ivy rash on his legs. </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The OTET has several internet sites that list trail
construction and related detours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our
first major detour took us off the trail and required us to climb a mountainous
road to get around the closed area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
survived the climb and stopped at the top at a Starbucks for some cold
water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Burt, the barista, filled our
bottles with ice and cold water. In that heat, it was a wonderful treat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While Burt was filling our bottles a little
boy, in line with his mother, kept asking his mother about my cycling attire.
He wanted to know what was on my arms (sun sleeves), on my hands (gloves), and
on my head (helmet with sun shade). Mom kept trying to quiet the boy, but I
gladly answered all his questions. <o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-size: medium;">As you can guess, my cycling attire
is not the typical stuff seen on road cyclists.</span></span></p>
<span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYTGDRcW9f_CjiRnWRx7PxwEL3nseF-_MVnC05y8FlZZxgyNVc0oek9Fe3cxiVDoc_S22bxOy0cbLPt5wE5aMhsImDoVWMQObn4WjlLl1d4ivKono2o09-rIQREGkQgKwpmCygtDupnmjBVpjwsRf_8P8mBW07bGCV4seFMZqq6VyGJKXwSTrJodGt/s6000/_DSC6096.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYTGDRcW9f_CjiRnWRx7PxwEL3nseF-_MVnC05y8FlZZxgyNVc0oek9Fe3cxiVDoc_S22bxOy0cbLPt5wE5aMhsImDoVWMQObn4WjlLl1d4ivKono2o09-rIQREGkQgKwpmCygtDupnmjBVpjwsRf_8P8mBW07bGCV4seFMZqq6VyGJKXwSTrJodGt/w235-h156/_DSC6096.jpg" width="235" /></a></div></span></span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">As the morning progressed, the trail was bordered by large
trees providing a canopy cover of coolness to the day’s increasing heat. As we entered Loveland Ohio, we quickly
transitioned into the bright sunlight and a radically different trail. We first saw a tropical drink stand just a
step off the trail. The barista was
dishing ice into tall glasses that would soon be followed by bright colored
syrups. Next to it was a café with
outdoor seating with umbrellas providing shade to its many customers. We then
saw an outdoor picnic area with overhead misting pipes cooling off hot cyclists
and hikers. Looking further down the
trail we could see restaurants, a bike shop, and hundreds of brightly colored
canoes and kayaks ready for an adventure on the Little Miami River. Loveland is a resort town, appropriately
nicknamed “Little Switzerland of the Miami Valley”. It was no surprise that the
town was full of people. We cycled through lots of towns on this and previous
rides and wondered why more communities didn’t make their “trail-town” a unique
destination. </span><o:p></o:p></p><span style="font-family: verdana;">
</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: medium;">When we got into Cincinnati’s metropolitan area, we had
about 10 miles of urban cycling. While
the traffic was ok, the roads were in poor condition making the day’s end even
more challenging. At our hotel Joe looked at his phone and saw that it was 97
degrees with a “feels like” temperature of 111 degrees. Despite the heat, we
walked to another Triple D recommended restaurant, the Taste of Belgium<span style="color: red;"> </span>(<a href="https://www.flavortownusa.com/locations/738/taste-of-belgium">https://www.flavortownusa.com/locations/738/taste-of-belgium</a>). It was about a mile from our hotel. </span><span style="font-size: medium;">The food was
excellent but the walk was not.</span><span style="color: red;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Cincinnati to Mason<o:p></o:p></span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFUynMz2aRRar19ISSX7CXWsxdaI4eD413AnQydfhl8YsDJCqirCyfaPjaAZ4PCTp6oQFhf44WoHSZRYrNfNS47LfhXIbIp9PKEfCaL6c_C1OgqKC4J7YlfJc7biI09ex-XZ10p_DRjJtdVgzwsae3noWnON9bDRXW2XD7yH76u90ou3y4QF2Nl7cN/s4861/_DSC6103.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2875" data-original-width="4861" height="111" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFUynMz2aRRar19ISSX7CXWsxdaI4eD413AnQydfhl8YsDJCqirCyfaPjaAZ4PCTp6oQFhf44WoHSZRYrNfNS47LfhXIbIp9PKEfCaL6c_C1OgqKC4J7YlfJc7biI09ex-XZ10p_DRjJtdVgzwsae3noWnON9bDRXW2XD7yH76u90ou3y4QF2Nl7cN/w188-h111/_DSC6103.jpg" width="188" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Leaving Cincinnati
was more pleasant because of the cooler temperature and getting started before the morning rush hour traffic. </span> Once we got back on the
rail-trail we saw lots of people out for their morning exercise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A group of roadie cyclists pulled alongside
of us and inquired about our journey. One woman, a self-confessed competitor,
decided that I was slow, so she moved up next to Joe. Joe is not one to decline
a challenge and they were off to the races.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Eventually, we all ended up in Loveland, OH, where we joined the
roadies for coffee. During our conversation, we learned that some of the group
had already done the complete OTET and planned to cycle the Great Allegany
Passage (GAP) trail in Pennsylvania, the Chesapeake and Ohio (C&O) trail in
Maryland, and the New River trail in Virginia. Since I had cycled all of these
trails, I shared my thoughts and wished them great rides in all their travels. </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="clear: right; float: right; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2342" data-original-width="5642" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoMcOWlZw-Po-oVABdw3OAUFuE0sRECdnXO8x3rNA_NA-NGFhc_G-ERccyP1exHhstb8OGjUgg8K-y1EGIerw8sG9QxPtWQflzjfMMmO1xi7XSzF1eJHV0dWunrwju0eXMAx_2CbYM5uYyWIcKAhqSDeHc2NvDS8nXmw-aI8JxdFpTCUuXy734BY3H/s320/_DSC6106.jpg" width="320" /></span></span><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">After the previous day’s 70-mile ride in the heat, we were
thankful that we had planned to cut our trip back to Xenia into two segments of
about 35 miles each.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The town of Mason
was the best we could find with lodging.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>However, it required us to cycle 5 miles off the trail for a hotel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were surprised to see a large amusement
park called Kings Island and a stadium along the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The hotel in Mason did not have a guest
laundry so we took advantage of the hot weather and hung our wash on a clothes
line strung between our bikes in the hotel parking lot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">The sight generated
lots of smiles and comments from other guests. </span> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoMcOWlZw-Po-oVABdw3OAUFuE0sRECdnXO8x3rNA_NA-NGFhc_G-ERccyP1exHhstb8OGjUgg8K-y1EGIerw8sG9QxPtWQflzjfMMmO1xi7XSzF1eJHV0dWunrwju0eXMAx_2CbYM5uYyWIcKAhqSDeHc2NvDS8nXmw-aI8JxdFpTCUuXy734BY3H/s5642/_DSC6106.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Mason to Xenia<o:p></o:p></span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">We cycled back to Xenia on a clean trail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The maintenance crew did a fantastic job of
cleaning up the storm damage we encountered when we left Xenia several days earlier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Before I left home, Helen (my wife) said that we should
embrace our return ride because it will give us a different perspective.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We did see a few things that we missed on the
way south so they were added to our trip’s photo gallery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When heading south we were focused on dodging
all the trail debris and failed to appreciate that we were cycling along the
Little Miami River.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While the water was
muddy and high from the earlier storms it was a packed with canoers and
kayakers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We wished that we had planned
a day on the river. It would have been easy to arrange because we saw lots of
canoe and kayak rentals facilities along this section of the trail. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXWrEJ4kvF851GwRBgxyyK1WlVq67nzQCupN7x750_-MEAkEQisTXQ21wTbJORJUFeo0XXPu9FnxNhtdsvcu8X3CcYpHPjmu9i-BsGJIBXjsgxRe9qTmPejito7a2RXuBCSjf9_GGv_FM3aq-l77xzDxNosld9V14OzO-8zVyq2pFE3bQJTZ3fyv_p/s6000/_DSC6108.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2651" data-original-width="6000" height="95" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXWrEJ4kvF851GwRBgxyyK1WlVq67nzQCupN7x750_-MEAkEQisTXQ21wTbJORJUFeo0XXPu9FnxNhtdsvcu8X3CcYpHPjmu9i-BsGJIBXjsgxRe9qTmPejito7a2RXuBCSjf9_GGv_FM3aq-l77xzDxNosld9V14OzO-8zVyq2pFE3bQJTZ3fyv_p/w216-h95/_DSC6108.jpg" width="216" /></span></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Xenia to Columbus<o:p></o:p></span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">There is not much to see when you leave the hotel at 5 a.m.
and cycle on a tree covered trail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
then we didn’t care.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our focus was to
get an early start on a 60-mile day before the temperature got hot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We pushed for 30 miles to reach London, OH
where we stopped for breakfast. There we met another cyclist who said his trail
name was Speedy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Speedy endorsed our
choice for breakfast, ignoring the reality that the nearby M&M Diner was
the only place to eat. Speedy was on a new carbon fiber bike taking his initial
shake-down cruise. Speedy told us that he cycles about 14,000 miles a year.
With that kind of mileage, he deserved a new light-weight bike.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwbKgSBq6SYn3nt5E3Q1KVaZ1X9Hv6sJXLMy6hPMUDzsBVyWSf03VOp-2tG0JYs8Y9dgOryW9t_0EzXShcp9x7mYheOhfroMH5tryD8RFKckNWztD5B5wcForl_Lxzpc7jpZqw1xndmm2AU7TmY_xG8WpeanykIuOnLTNutq9gGjcPxZpRep_mve5p/s6000/_DSC6116.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="104" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwbKgSBq6SYn3nt5E3Q1KVaZ1X9Hv6sJXLMy6hPMUDzsBVyWSf03VOp-2tG0JYs8Y9dgOryW9t_0EzXShcp9x7mYheOhfroMH5tryD8RFKckNWztD5B5wcForl_Lxzpc7jpZqw1xndmm2AU7TmY_xG8WpeanykIuOnLTNutq9gGjcPxZpRep_mve5p/w156-h104/_DSC6116.JPG" width="156" /></span></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Nancy, Joe’s wife urged Joe to get out of the hotel and see
Columbus, the capital of Ohio.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, after
cycling nearly 60 miles we took a 5-mile walk. Our first destination was
Columbus’ German Village.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were hoping
to find a German restaurant for our dinner but only found a German coffee
shop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Next, we headed to the Ohio
Statehouse that was begun in 1839.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After
that, we headed to the Flat Iron Grill for our dinner and beers, both of which
were excellent; and fortunately, the Grill was near our hotel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Columbus to Mt Vernon<o:p></o:p></span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">We cycled 12 miles on the trail to reach our breakfast
stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We knew that we picked a good
place because it was packed with customers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>After a hardy breakfast we took an alternate route that took us off the
OTET and went around Hoover Reservoir that is more than 10 miles long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The nice thing about this route was that it
was no longer than staying on the OTET.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Mostly it was on urban trails and roads with little traffic. The only
downside was that we were exposed to the gusty winds blowing across the reservoir.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After 24 miles, we were back on the OTET and
continuing to climb to its highest point, 1,285 feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While that may seem high, we reached this
point over 3 days of cycling on 1 and 2 percent grades. We were easily able to
cycle 12 mph most of the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After we
crested the high point, our speed increased to 14-15 mph.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Near Mt. Vernon we saw lots of storm damage
on the trails. We were told that 2 tornados had gone through there a few days
earlier.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGfcAVZsAUMVGjo_H7aovS9z0Wg1ziMHbbxNYhQCxwAbI5Mcn-HNYRBEOL5W9actnW1tEIXVVAgEoD10KXpR_6YqtuXDSVS4riZd_ehNj7x2Y1_GCfrbpvCm6ahbCn6CW8wNHB9eKWujl_I3CpNVTufEtufBP2av_7HggREj1KrksqwrcViEaijEc3/s1862/IMG_0773.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1862" data-original-width="1094" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGfcAVZsAUMVGjo_H7aovS9z0Wg1ziMHbbxNYhQCxwAbI5Mcn-HNYRBEOL5W9actnW1tEIXVVAgEoD10KXpR_6YqtuXDSVS4riZd_ehNj7x2Y1_GCfrbpvCm6ahbCn6CW8wNHB9eKWujl_I3CpNVTufEtufBP2av_7HggREj1KrksqwrcViEaijEc3/s320/IMG_0773.jpg" width="188" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">We arrived in Mt. Vernon only to find that George Washington
was not there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But we are sure you knew
that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We celebrated our day’s ride with
a stop at a frozen custard shop (the first of the trip) and indulged in a cool
treat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We took another walking tour of
Mt. Vernon and found that on our earlier visit we missed a whimsical dog
fountain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwP9dl68gAwrvJeRrO8Phv0GfLmESYBS3sT59rg2QcCg9q53ONtfoZqO7Kf9auwhVVy63dPbSFY-mdnK9CQyA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Mt. Vernon to Millersburg</span></u></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">We had a short ride ahead of us, so we lingered at our hotel
breakfast in Mt Vernon. Then we lingered on the trail, and finally we lingered
in Millersburg waiting for our room to be ready. We should have lingered longer
before leaving Mt Vernon because it was a cold 47 degrees in the morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Needless to say, we were bundled up with
extra clothes that we had to strip off as the day warmed up. There was not much
to see on the trail except for a jogger, who in full stride, was juggling 3
balls as we passed him. We were impressed.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Millersburg was still cleaning up after the tornado went
through the area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trail into town
was full of debris, and some of the restaurants did not expect to open for a
few more days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also, it was a Sunday and
the ice cream shop, candy shop, and brewery were closed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are thankful that we had a place to stay.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Millersburg to Akron<o:p></o:p></span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">We left Millersburg very early because of the planned
70-mile ride and projected rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>However, Joe discovered a short cut that saved us 14 miles of trail
cycling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trail made a big “U-shaped”
curve that we decided to cut straight across on a county road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unfortunately, the short cut had one very
long and extremely steep hill that we had to walk. So, our 70-mile day became
54 miles (we don’t know what happened to the remaining few miles). Not much
rain but very cool temperatures. We got into Akron at noon, checked into our
hotel, and had our lunch/dinner. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Akron - Cleveland – Home<o:p></o:p></span></u></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Our final bike ride to Cleveland was uneventful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Both of us wanted to get home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After nearly 40 miles of cycling, we loaded
Joe’s van and headed east.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We arrived at
my home in Virginia mid-afternoon and then Joe continued to his home in New
York state, arriving in the evening.</span><br /><o:p></o:p></p></div></div>yellowbiketaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03930267735169346620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8612292389702167581.post-67942499460062965312021-10-24T09:21:00.009-04:002021-11-20T06:11:18.149-05:00Susquehanna River Ride 2021<p> <span style="font-size: large; text-align: center;">Photos by Joseph
Insalaco</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzcxAO6Frr1J2nCorwrNjuglrYEq3tIbi4UoiZ5eh2IPf_OZ5it8Igt-glvoKNFumUMlF6QSSJnEhiqB1jopADgdgOK7of3BA772JvwyvgY_4OCT4Cx_DVsnAGxnPgaIphGQunvcZq6xA/s6000/_DSC5554.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="110" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzcxAO6Frr1J2nCorwrNjuglrYEq3tIbi4UoiZ5eh2IPf_OZ5it8Igt-glvoKNFumUMlF6QSSJnEhiqB1jopADgdgOK7of3BA772JvwyvgY_4OCT4Cx_DVsnAGxnPgaIphGQunvcZq6xA/w165-h110/_DSC5554.JPG" width="165" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large; text-align: center;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Cycling along a river should be easy and scenic. The
Susquehanna River flows through a valley but the roads often leave the valley
floor going into the mountains.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our ride
was full of scenic beauty, historic places, and interesting breakfast stops, but
it was not easy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">The Susquehanna River was not our planned ride for
2021.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For the past 2 years we wanted to cycle
along the Danube River in Europe, but the COVID pandemic interfered with our
plans.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, we asked ourselves, what is
the next best adventure for 2 cyclists that have taken annual trips for 20
years?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Keeping with the river theme we
thought about other possibilities; ones closer to home and more likely to be
achievable in spite of the pandemic restrictions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since we had already cycled along the
Mississippi, Missouri, Ohio, Columbia, and Saint Lawrence, we had to find
another worthy river.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Susquehanna quickly
moved to the top of our list.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Its headwaters
are in Cooperstown, New York and the river travels 444 miles to the Chesapeake
Bay at Havre de Grace, Maryland.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">To start our trip, I drove from Falls Church, Virginia to
Poughkeepsie, New York to meet my cycling companion Joe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From there we cycled about 120 miles to Cooperstown,
New York.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Joe lives on the top of a
mountain so our ride started out on a great note as we flew for 4-miles
downhill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The next 45 miles had many additional great downhills
that were only dampened by modest climbs. Wow, we thought, this trip could be
easy.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span>Before we crossed the Hudson River, we enjoyed 2 interesting
stops.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first was </span>Clermont State
Historic Site where Robert R. Livingston, Jr. was Clermont's most notable
resident. According to the park’s webpage, his accomplishments include:
drafting the Declaration of Independence (guess the Thomas Jefferson guy just
stole the limelight), serving as first U.S. Minister of Foreign Affairs,
administering the oath of office to George Washington, negotiating the
Louisiana Purchase and developing steamboat technology with Robert Fulton.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Quite a guy!</span></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg19h1JzD1hAYyt4PNV8bW1sFl1W8WcdWb1ESwpgajYDuwXs8Q0olS9-v88hz1K6mSswmdvnlm-H3S-WgD1rF6Ij_AaC4C7i4eEyM5dhCEKPOI4dIHon-42MI0JvvGnMEDg2sp1wPwuSGo/s2048/_DSC5404.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="164" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg19h1JzD1hAYyt4PNV8bW1sFl1W8WcdWb1ESwpgajYDuwXs8Q0olS9-v88hz1K6mSswmdvnlm-H3S-WgD1rF6Ij_AaC4C7i4eEyM5dhCEKPOI4dIHon-42MI0JvvGnMEDg2sp1wPwuSGo/w246-h164/_DSC5404.jpg" width="246" /></a></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5uO8h4mBEBrQ3ksCiBNnPPjZJBQbW2IQX8fIwUrKj0jjNHPdadRjyzSO-eWHuw7CJSuUm3lXvvSJ7YmD5M-sLm9vHSRS1BMLi1YwsDJA6ES-ouE3J2pgAuelM3iYCnzx4IbCLiT-d_CQ/s2048/_DSC5401.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5uO8h4mBEBrQ3ksCiBNnPPjZJBQbW2IQX8fIwUrKj0jjNHPdadRjyzSO-eWHuw7CJSuUm3lXvvSJ7YmD5M-sLm9vHSRS1BMLi1YwsDJA6ES-ouE3J2pgAuelM3iYCnzx4IbCLiT-d_CQ/w242-h161/_DSC5401.jpg" width="242" /></a><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;"><span>Our second stop was at Olana, the home of Frederic Church, a
well-known painter, world </span>traveler, a self-taught architect, farmer and
landscape designer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Olana estate
overlooks the Hudson. While it was a serious climb to get there, the effort was
worthwhile. The story-book castle-like structure was very picturesque and the
river view spectacular.</span><p></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span><span style="font-size: large;">Once we crossed the Hudson River, we had a lot of climbing
in the Catskill Mountains, as we headed to Cooperstown, New York.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Cooperstown, drew its name from the family of
James Fenimore Cooper whose historical writings depicted life from the 17th to
the 19th centuries. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our first stop in
Cooperstown was Otsego Lake, the headwaters of the north branch of the Susquehanna River. </span><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPogWHd0cYuOTlauvUjiLR6Wh-zUw4a1ik1bOrVNZF8Zjk9_lAOzqH9_3ZAeoXa19GAEqgNCsqVoEGJR-ZqNmLnKKWNvmIXzTHLllOtzQG9HPbktOA58lYUz8V-1u0mtGm9i3L9GHEsEQ/s2048/_DSC5431.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1113" data-original-width="2048" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPogWHd0cYuOTlauvUjiLR6Wh-zUw4a1ik1bOrVNZF8Zjk9_lAOzqH9_3ZAeoXa19GAEqgNCsqVoEGJR-ZqNmLnKKWNvmIXzTHLllOtzQG9HPbktOA58lYUz8V-1u0mtGm9i3L9GHEsEQ/w243-h132/_DSC5431.jpg" width="243" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;">While the lake was of primary interest, Cooperstown is better
known for the Baseball Hall of Fame. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In
1839 Abner Doubleday invented baseball in Cooperstown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While baseball has been his legacy, he is
also known as a decorated Union Army officer who is claimed to have fired the
first shot in defense of Fort Sumter at the start of the Civil War.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another point of interest, just north of the
town, is The Farmers' Museum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Its land
has been part of a working farm since 1813, when it was owned by James Fenimore
Cooper. <o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Finally, we started our Susquehanna River ride as we left Cooperstown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At
this point, the Susquehanna River is a very modest stream, just a few feet wide.
As the days progressed, we knew that the river would grow wider from this humble
beginning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZztAbdBMB7LSCXgcHToayzCVQek8IpKTkBK7sl0jjCqGuBPETbei20L53sakiMS3aR_DLemxehkxD_bzCvp_5SCeX_uezZ_vXmBwtFU9ZyIng6UIgC7rRXyl4XHP-y_eLAKVhmuFnr0U/s2048/_DSC5435.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1118" data-original-width="2048" height="140" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZztAbdBMB7LSCXgcHToayzCVQek8IpKTkBK7sl0jjCqGuBPETbei20L53sakiMS3aR_DLemxehkxD_bzCvp_5SCeX_uezZ_vXmBwtFU9ZyIng6UIgC7rRXyl4XHP-y_eLAKVhmuFnr0U/w256-h140/_DSC5435.jpg" width="256" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /> <o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span><span style="font-size: large;">We enjoyed the many towns found along the Susquehanna. The
town of Oneonta, New York was first settled around 1775 and its Walnut Street Historic
District showcased many interesting old homes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>One of them was the Wilber Mansion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was built in 1875, as a simple, flat roofed structure. However, in</span><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFwzcqb87oJUOD10bQEx07UbmtiN-zxsXzHZgkM4u9c3DpT6vMtrYX1thAi1qdJ-i60AXRixsE-NzXEqvs_g7REANo0wnxGj47KBrLh18Lzg2_-PtY-SYEWNrunNozCgrFYTZflzDxJbE/s2048/_DSC5462.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1407" data-original-width="2048" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFwzcqb87oJUOD10bQEx07UbmtiN-zxsXzHZgkM4u9c3DpT6vMtrYX1thAi1qdJ-i60AXRixsE-NzXEqvs_g7REANo0wnxGj47KBrLh18Lzg2_-PtY-SYEWNrunNozCgrFYTZflzDxJbE/w240-h165/_DSC5462.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></div><span><br /><span style="font-size: large;">
the early 1890’s, the building was transformed into a fancy Victorian Lady,
with an imposing turret, wrap around porches, and stained-glass windows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During our tour of the Walnut Street District,
we were stopped by Malcolm, who shared his bicycling adventures and asked about
our ride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Malcolm cycled across the
United States in 1989, back when Joe and I were still earning a living and
caring for children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He indicated that
his next dream adventure was to kayak down the Susquehanna River.</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: large; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqH1qwjzBBBPlCTy3a9ZEHRohFhh4pBg2DUyPHveZJgxPpMH1nbHNwdjomeCr-Tq4d4hZdI-1NaUFO5S8-a0IYM3dZb4ZncqAvnDaEmj_d3YDMhbP9-k_9eNKWtHn-k3eXpyJbm95OfNY/s2048/_DSC5467.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2038" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqH1qwjzBBBPlCTy3a9ZEHRohFhh4pBg2DUyPHveZJgxPpMH1nbHNwdjomeCr-Tq4d4hZdI-1NaUFO5S8-a0IYM3dZb4ZncqAvnDaEmj_d3YDMhbP9-k_9eNKWtHn-k3eXpyJbm95OfNY/w200-h201/_DSC5467.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">We spent a night in Sidney, New York.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The town was named after Admiral Sir William
Sidney Smith. A British naval officer serving in the American and French
revolutionary wars, he later rose to the rank of admiral.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There we saw the Andrew Mann Inn that was
built in 1787. The inn sits next to the Susquehanna River and served early
travelers on the Catskill Turnpike Stage Coach Line.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Currently the Inn is in the early stages of
restoration and not a place where we could spend the night.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC8267UofKYBWAB-UFHdnDLYZT1nU9iOSjOEZcp7g8s8Wn9Xw-NZ_II2tVebdxxRV2wWHoztpA6D1AkMllYQWYxi1VCICfIZiZVaDl7YLdUctObWyW7U2LFtNSfXflm7DAqo5wYjK2kE4/s2048/_DSC5480.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="126" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC8267UofKYBWAB-UFHdnDLYZT1nU9iOSjOEZcp7g8s8Wn9Xw-NZ_II2tVebdxxRV2wWHoztpA6D1AkMllYQWYxi1VCICfIZiZVaDl7YLdUctObWyW7U2LFtNSfXflm7DAqo5wYjK2kE4/w189-h126/_DSC5480.jpg" width="189" /></a><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span><span style="font-size: large;">Leaving Sidney, New York we had an interesting start on our
way to find breakfast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I raced out of
the hotel and headed right and Joe followed yelling “wrong direction.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is not the first time one of us headed
to the right and the other to the left (no political inferences please).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once we got synchronized, we cycled about 5
miles to Bob’s Diner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We both decided on
blueberry pancakes that were 3 for $3.49.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Our experience told us to order just 2 pancakes each.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When they arrived, we wished that we had
ordered only 1, and shared it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, they
were that big.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi27scCWJBQ9VwFD146Ite3ySbESup5ZbDF-T4AHNxohXwtO7e57qWvzfIV7rowirpZ9Fz-ctNR9AB9szXlOFjYnhoJ5_nfJC7PuxzNOJempCWZxQhh88_5wJ33X5Yq8jgE1FrPSZgJsfw/s2048/_DSC5503.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="126" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi27scCWJBQ9VwFD146Ite3ySbESup5ZbDF-T4AHNxohXwtO7e57qWvzfIV7rowirpZ9Fz-ctNR9AB9szXlOFjYnhoJ5_nfJC7PuxzNOJempCWZxQhh88_5wJ33X5Yq8jgE1FrPSZgJsfw/w189-h126/_DSC5503.jpg" width="189" /> </a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiIsC8_O_GNf1e2MjMGsJcIVVJOSr1No_632x7qYITqEs8-z8ZVfW6dWqQvNK1mMM_1_gW7Y3eUqExE8R2kAMpadVk3Wui6QFhyphenhyphenOJt6FWTxLq2e3AabwZ6cl9nCO_FRRkYoHuIDleY2sU/s2048/_DSC5499.jpg" style="clear: left; display: inline; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="144" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiIsC8_O_GNf1e2MjMGsJcIVVJOSr1No_632x7qYITqEs8-z8ZVfW6dWqQvNK1mMM_1_gW7Y3eUqExE8R2kAMpadVk3Wui6QFhyphenhyphenOJt6FWTxLq2e3AabwZ6cl9nCO_FRRkYoHuIDleY2sU/w216-h144/_DSC5499.jpg" width="216" /></a></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><h3 style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></h3><span><span style="font-size: large;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: large; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj512trrzL2mQ1y73jfct3rG8dErXSDe9idEg22i8W7e9YuVBY3bmaQNQzBAsBZafiYATJS1ka2yYNvTb3hsQcF7Qoderx3lPDFVJQ4Rr79P-xAx6eJ_R2VjVcFeaAtZjv3fH3EzN4f1xo/s2048/_DSC5507.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1282" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj512trrzL2mQ1y73jfct3rG8dErXSDe9idEg22i8W7e9YuVBY3bmaQNQzBAsBZafiYATJS1ka2yYNvTb3hsQcF7Qoderx3lPDFVJQ4Rr79P-xAx6eJ_R2VjVcFeaAtZjv3fH3EzN4f1xo/w128-h204/_DSC5507.jpg" width="128" /></a></div>The Sussquehanna River next dipped south into Pennsylvania before heading back north to continue its journey in New York. In Susquehanna,
Pennsylvania, a historic railroad town, we first visited the Starrucca Viaduct.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The viaduct was built by the Erie Railroad
Company in 1847-48 to cross the valley. It is a beautiful stone structure
extending 1,200 feet and is 110 feet high.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Next, we stopped at the Starrucca railroad station and hotel that was
also built by the Erie Railway in 1863. The three-story Gothic Revival
structure included a large hotel, called Starrucca House, with rooms for 200
people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There we met the owner, Andrew
and his son, also named Andrew, who are restoring the building.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Andrew, a German immigrant, purchased the
building at a city auction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a beautiful building, but according to
Andrew, the town wanted to demolish the building for redevelopment. Both men said
that they live there even though the building does not yet have running water
or electricity.</span><br /> <span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWuTgbBS8lPfbkcvV9W-laKwfGHgZCISO6SHC7QISxYA1uS-dfUfDR-GrjIsxyjamGH60TAZQSROfowHuTUfgkoHye5JmXRqzcm0hiqhsodBmH63jDjqq2Exg5MQujSE9rE5yahRlC_Wg/s6000/_DSC5521.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="99" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWuTgbBS8lPfbkcvV9W-laKwfGHgZCISO6SHC7QISxYA1uS-dfUfDR-GrjIsxyjamGH60TAZQSROfowHuTUfgkoHye5JmXRqzcm0hiqhsodBmH63jDjqq2Exg5MQujSE9rE5yahRlC_Wg/w148-h99/_DSC5521.JPG" width="148" /></a></span></div><span><br /><span style="font-size: large;">On an early Sunday morning, with sleep filled eyes, we
toured Binghamton, New York to see some of the fine sites the city has to
offer. There was absolutely no traffic which made it a perfect time for city exploring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The city was named after William Bingham, who
bought the 10,000-acre patent for the land in 1786. From the days of the
railroad, Binghamton was a transportation crossroads so our first stop was the
Delaware, Lackawanna, and Western Railroad passenger station.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The station was built in 1901, in the Italian
Renaissance style. </span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: large; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnjQuSh2jLu8yOYl8oWTdameLP4LjaAds2JgzgnglebZ59RElCId8vBKfMH_q7eyMfRNF4o95EKtA5VG9FKfkAZ1k022KmzI9kQo-aJTUSQFLtR0HF-NvlmdI7Ql6lmgtGAWzQM28acak/s2048/_DSC5522.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnjQuSh2jLu8yOYl8oWTdameLP4LjaAds2JgzgnglebZ59RElCId8vBKfMH_q7eyMfRNF4o95EKtA5VG9FKfkAZ1k022KmzI9kQo-aJTUSQFLtR0HF-NvlmdI7Ql6lmgtGAWzQM28acak/w97-h146/_DSC5522.jpg" width="97" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Our next stop was the
Broome County Courthouse built in 1897, in the form of a Latin Cross and topped
with an elegant copper dome.</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRXK3ACqcAqJ-GbvSBwxCzVw0oVj65HNx2dUbCihTCuqWKaHw13_hd518d2Gjw1pA5Nnt3bHb6anN82Nt8ATmfHrf7Rsss_mKJ2OEAwCmg3qhl2AT73mM53viCsePWWBpuwI8UzlCeahc/s6000/_DSC5525.JPG" style="clear: right; display: inline; font-size: large; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="115" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRXK3ACqcAqJ-GbvSBwxCzVw0oVj65HNx2dUbCihTCuqWKaHw13_hd518d2Gjw1pA5Nnt3bHb6anN82Nt8ATmfHrf7Rsss_mKJ2OEAwCmg3qhl2AT73mM53viCsePWWBpuwI8UzlCeahc/w173-h115/_DSC5525.JPG" width="173" /></a></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><br /> <o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Leaving Binghamton, on designated cycle routes, we saw more
cyclists than cars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We stopped to talk
to Mike who became a “bike widower” when his back started acting up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was patiently waiting for his wife to
finish her ride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We also met, a 5-year-old
boy on a battery powered motorcycle looking bike. He was delightful, full of
conversation and enjoyed racing his bike in a deserted parking lot. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">We had another interesting breakfast stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The closest restaurant from our night’s
lodging was 20 miles away, outside of Towanda, Pennsylvania.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After leaving Towanda we crossed over the
river and had to cycle 5 more miles on a very busy 4 lane road (with no
shoulders) through the town’s industrial district to reach our breakfast spot--<a name="_Hlk83189889">Pipher’s Diner</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Despite</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaex_U4YCM4C2leIs3Wl4DVoxH_rxtjacwnrqFx1HdRR9gbjfeexDMoI67BqU4dVN9uTq6v59z3kFWPKTVGJJbqdy8D7S2eImqK_r6RpFupxqiXIY0I3FBZL36l3uh-1PRAirmsjgWJXw/s2048/_DSC5574.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaex_U4YCM4C2leIs3Wl4DVoxH_rxtjacwnrqFx1HdRR9gbjfeexDMoI67BqU4dVN9uTq6v59z3kFWPKTVGJJbqdy8D7S2eImqK_r6RpFupxqiXIY0I3FBZL36l3uh-1PRAirmsjgWJXw/w197-h131/_DSC5574.jpg" width="197" /></a></span></div><span><span style="font-size: large;">the building being old and worn, it was full of customers and the 2 women owners
efficiently provided great breakfasts. Typical of these types of diners, it was
full of regular customers and we were an interesting diversion to their daily
routine.</span><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span><span style="font-size: large;">Our goal was to stay along the river whenever possible but that
was seldom achievable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For example,
after breakfast at Pipher’s Diner we had 40 miles of challenging cycling. The
roads left the lowlands and went into the mountains.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our route had 7 significant climbs that led
us away from the river.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first 3 were
very long but with reasonable degrees of assent on a major highway. At the top
of each of these we enjoyed a panoramic view of the valley below. After these climbs,
we dropped back down to the river and cycled for a while on country roads.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The last 4 climbs were also on the
highway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While these assents were
similar to the earlier ones, their shoulders were in poor condition.</span><span style="font-size: large; mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDgqhS-UfPnhS5NffZGx4UYSq3TSYS_hJNhUB8Z2BlFiuKqCL5CrV53xgENs9L3EM5x5onA7IDC5uOvykN4DLZcTZE8qipyKy4rs1KtMtTjDLVO8yz5f36Nt40CdAPyKSMHCNJ2-a8VK0/s2048/_DSC5580.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="119" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDgqhS-UfPnhS5NffZGx4UYSq3TSYS_hJNhUB8Z2BlFiuKqCL5CrV53xgENs9L3EM5x5onA7IDC5uOvykN4DLZcTZE8qipyKy4rs1KtMtTjDLVO8yz5f36Nt40CdAPyKSMHCNJ2-a8VK0/w179-h119/_DSC5580.jpg" width="179" /></a></span></div><span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"> Besides being in need of repair, they had
lots of debris on them, making the climbs and descents challenging, and sometimes
dangerous. Nor did these latter climbs provide a scenic overlook to compensate
for the efforts to reach their top. Luckily, we ended the day with a nice
descent into Tunkhannock, Pennsylvania, for our night’s lodging.</span><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7oLe4PAk6TlkumGgr_LFWRYtFS6DPcH8JCRjCHZb7Noq5kM4R28QX_6yt6QMuY3qzhJf9zL4qIxPoLMxRmh2eCNiau9mw4-_P2faGnqgYTBCarv-xkYhJxFTKqbkrBZfEBLRuOhIz98M/s2048/IMG_0438.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7oLe4PAk6TlkumGgr_LFWRYtFS6DPcH8JCRjCHZb7Noq5kM4R28QX_6yt6QMuY3qzhJf9zL4qIxPoLMxRmh2eCNiau9mw4-_P2faGnqgYTBCarv-xkYhJxFTKqbkrBZfEBLRuOhIz98M/w144-h192/IMG_0438.jpg" width="144" /></a></span></div><span><br /><span style="font-size: large;">In West Pittston, Pennsylvania, Joe came to an abrupt stop
and pointed franticly at a shopping center sign “Insalaco Shopping Center,” his
family’s name.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Joe said that when his
family immigrated to the United States they first settled in this area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He believes that it is likely that some of
his distant relatives are still here.<o:p></o:p></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">For several days, Joe had been concerned with his rear hub
bearings making noise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We stopped at a
bike shop in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, where Rich, the owner of Around Town
Bikes, stopped his project and replaced Joe’s bearings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before leaving, we decided to fill our bike
tires using the shop’s floor pump and I had my first flat tire on this trip
when my Presta valve broke off. If I was going to have a flat tire, I could not
have picked a better place than in a bike shop.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbqLpL-KAn9IHhEmIH1oJ61b_V9m435wEZfad4f2BDk9dkSyp0WA8hpitMz_9Vbu1J5OZQb5nMfEHiUCyH6RAnTcwmHNU4ZjA7TBmWhc60YT6WsST2MROGD04xVp5tyH11HZONJoQv67o/s2048/IMG_0440.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="145" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbqLpL-KAn9IHhEmIH1oJ61b_V9m435wEZfad4f2BDk9dkSyp0WA8hpitMz_9Vbu1J5OZQb5nMfEHiUCyH6RAnTcwmHNU4ZjA7TBmWhc60YT6WsST2MROGD04xVp5tyH11HZONJoQv67o/w109-h145/IMG_0440.jpg" width="109" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">We left our B&B in Berwick, Pennsylvania, early and
looked forward to a later breakfast. However, breakfast came at a big
price.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seven miles into our ride we had
a big hill with grades ranging from 12 to 18 percent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What is noteworthy about this climb is Joe’s
mastery of hills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He cycled it all the
way to the top, I walked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Joe’s power
must have been a carryover from yesterday’s 4 scoops of ice cream. After the
following downhill we cycled into Bloomsburg and crossed the Rupert Covered Bridge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaQPPCYb79ERS-f3fJe3CRN-N63cFxzV7PrLnGZeZ9HWbN8uvyrLZ6DJJ-uOxghLB5fjq9pKYz78nQ60LPIePa7Sl_JaS7nWQQRzXlBhbOKnKlmVsOHO0FqzQbmLngphvrj1yzqjOijk0/s2048/_DSC5656.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1413" data-original-width="2048" height="104" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaQPPCYb79ERS-f3fJe3CRN-N63cFxzV7PrLnGZeZ9HWbN8uvyrLZ6DJJ-uOxghLB5fjq9pKYz78nQ60LPIePa7Sl_JaS7nWQQRzXlBhbOKnKlmVsOHO0FqzQbmLngphvrj1yzqjOijk0/w151-h104/_DSC5656.jpg" width="151" /></a></span></div><span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"> bridge cost $1,637 when it was built in
1847 and was named after the nearby village, which was settled by Leonard
Rupert in 1788. Breakfast was finally found at Woody’s Café in Catawissa,
Pennsylvania where our loaded touring bikes attracted conversation from other
customers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh40lWUX-u-6b9jUidM3JNPbuh5Yud3pWKSYJK6CrdXcZJhp1Zbpu7yA1b5YMvbXYnD41pRKCB_3xZSXPUr_xdk3-EWZT-IJ0FEGqq_sXkD8jxq1K6UuwpPsazL_V1gAJYLb9MjMBszbSI/s2048/_DSC5676.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1488" data-original-width="2048" height="127" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh40lWUX-u-6b9jUidM3JNPbuh5Yud3pWKSYJK6CrdXcZJhp1Zbpu7yA1b5YMvbXYnD41pRKCB_3xZSXPUr_xdk3-EWZT-IJ0FEGqq_sXkD8jxq1K6UuwpPsazL_V1gAJYLb9MjMBszbSI/w174-h127/_DSC5676.jpg" width="174" /></a></div><span><span style="font-size: large;">We stopped in Danville, Pennsylvania so we could cycle on
the J. Manley Robbins Trail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>According
to Rails-to-Trails “it is the oldest known rail-trail in the United States.”
The 1.1-mile trail connects to the Old Reading Line Trail to form the 2.6-mile
Hess Loop Trail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trail was
developed by the Danville Bicycle Club in the 1890s on a former narrow-gauge
railroad built by the Montour Iron Works in the 1840s. </span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">The Susquehanna River was a predominate feature of my childhood.
Our next stop, Northumberland, Pennsylvania where I grew up, took me back to
those early days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our house was on a
hill, providing a daily view of the river.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The town is located at the confluence of the river’s north and west
branches. The town dates back to 1772. Joseph Priestly settled here but it is
unlikely that many know his claim to fame.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As a clergyman, he was forced to leave England because of his scientific
experiments with alcohol that led to the discovery of the element oxygen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We stopped by his home and several other
properties</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJqx7wzTxuKZYVIHbqBtjT7XbukcJ7ENyWGwEa95qqib77XvSnyLWTzTY2pVUL79snasLLorsrTK6q3nvaFGH0rrNkIMBLVkKP5IKYTRcpXTENE6AEnizwhyphenhyphen-07D1yl53ezykeniLNNbs/s2048/_DSC5684.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="115" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJqx7wzTxuKZYVIHbqBtjT7XbukcJ7ENyWGwEa95qqib77XvSnyLWTzTY2pVUL79snasLLorsrTK6q3nvaFGH0rrNkIMBLVkKP5IKYTRcpXTENE6AEnizwhyphenhyphen-07D1yl53ezykeniLNNbs/w172-h115/_DSC5684.jpg" width="172" /></a></span></div><span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"> that were his legacy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We also
cycled by the Front Street Train Station, constructed in 1908-1910. The station
closed in 1958 and remained closed until it was restored as a restaurant <i>in
1981</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To obtain a birds-eye view of
the river, we climbed to the nearby Shikellamy State Park Overlook. It is on
top of a 360-foot cliff that overlooks the confluence of the north and west
branches.</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: large; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnk_98DEc4Fbt1NBeKVMc5FZNOZDDu8H-8zeXw3LkyLj2OBG3ulzejwK7TJEZvpNKk9cdynrPn6CDXLErNbCwj3cbameeb_bHPg_EV0LO55Vh1WAfzixBOlS4raTo2PXNWjNXcyT0ZJKU/s2048/_DSC5708.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="137" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnk_98DEc4Fbt1NBeKVMc5FZNOZDDu8H-8zeXw3LkyLj2OBG3ulzejwK7TJEZvpNKk9cdynrPn6CDXLErNbCwj3cbameeb_bHPg_EV0LO55Vh1WAfzixBOlS4raTo2PXNWjNXcyT0ZJKU/w206-h137/_DSC5708.jpg" width="206" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;"> What began as a tiny stream in Cooperstown, the North branch has
become a very wide river at Northumberland. Of course, to see this view
required us to climb a very steep road.</span><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span><span style="font-size: large;">Our longest day’s ride was from Northumberland, to Columbia,
Pennsylvania.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We cycled 80 miles, mostly
flat and almost always near the river.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>However, the temperature was in the 90s which made for a long day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the way we had another interesting
breakfast stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In Port Trevorton,
Pennsylvania, we stopped at Lauver’s Family Traditions Restaurant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As we entered all the chatter in the room
stopped and the “old guys” just stared at us—2 guys in spandex with sweat
dripping off their foreheads, walking into a room full of working men that led
hard lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As an “ice breaker”, I said
“we understand that this is a great place for breakfast.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The men responded with several jokes about
our clothing and quickly welcomed us to join them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilMJcOtEL59YmgUBfFO0eVk0oueVI69dekTThqIErJLh08li-vUUSziL7G5t4G1h2Ud75uYMSctE-CwtaYBtOYlLlN4so7g3E8YpBxrB-VioyEHyTnne4V9beL7PRU9JEgl16CMl5sTkA/s6000/_DSC5713.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilMJcOtEL59YmgUBfFO0eVk0oueVI69dekTThqIErJLh08li-vUUSziL7G5t4G1h2Ud75uYMSctE-CwtaYBtOYlLlN4so7g3E8YpBxrB-VioyEHyTnne4V9beL7PRU9JEgl16CMl5sTkA/w180-h120/_DSC5713.JPG" width="180" /></a></div><span><span style="font-size: large;">At Harrisburg, Pennsylvania we reached the rivers widest
point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Susquehanna grew from a small
stream that we could leap over in Cooperstown, New York to a massive body of water
nearly a mile wide.</span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzk5-i3_bG-3sF7SuVHrc_-ZIWCS-NxeT8ObIL0tDsTKRnUaCD-dCSjTpvFNW6CnQPWC0D6QANXrDFcRIhA-IbGT8HffC6ilx2Hk2sjqyqyfVBedSmpDJ6hkTXcLdk1Yki4smrvIMMV7M/s2048/_DSC5732.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1417" data-original-width="2048" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzk5-i3_bG-3sF7SuVHrc_-ZIWCS-NxeT8ObIL0tDsTKRnUaCD-dCSjTpvFNW6CnQPWC0D6QANXrDFcRIhA-IbGT8HffC6ilx2Hk2sjqyqyfVBedSmpDJ6hkTXcLdk1Yki4smrvIMMV7M/w191-h132/_DSC5732.jpg" width="191" /></a></div><span><span style="font-size: large;">Our ride from Columbia to Havre de Grace, Maryland, was only
50 miles but the morning patter of rain on our hotel window was not a good
sign. The day was marred by rain, cold, hills and traffic. We also had to cross
a bridge that was closed because of construction, got lost, and by the time we
got to our hotel were wet to our skin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Havre
de Grace, Maryland is the end of the Susquehanna River.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here it flows into the Chesapeake Bay and
eventually into the Atlantic Ocean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Our travels from Poughkeepsie to Havre de Grace totaled 610 miles with 22,000
feet of climbing.</span><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> </span><span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"> </span></span></span> </span>Our daily blog showing our route, mileages,
and lots of photos can<br /> be viewed at https://susquehannariverride--2021.blogspot.com/</span><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">While Havre de Grace was the end of our joint travels, we
still had miles to cycle to return to our homes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My trip south to Falls Church, Virginia was
much shorter than Joe's trip north to Poughkeepsie, New York.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cycled 105 miles on my last day and Joe had
3 cycling days of 89, 99, and 56 miles.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Postscript:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Several
months after this ride I returned to Havre de Grace to see what we missed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a delightful historic town but filled
with excitement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Its vibrant downtown
area had lots of unique shops and restaurants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Public art was pervasive and the water views were spectacular.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><o:p></o:p></p>yellowbiketaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03930267735169346620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8612292389702167581.post-82712124824624592912019-10-01T07:30:00.001-04:002019-10-02T06:11:42.705-04:00Ohio River Ride 2019<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Story by Jeffrey Heil</div>
Photos by Joseph Insalaco<br />
<br />
The name "Ohio" comes from the Seneca, Ohi:yo', meaning "Good River". Numerous Native American civilizations lived along the Ohio River and used it for transportation and trading. The Ohio River was instrumental in the westward expansion of the United States. Lewis and Clark used the Ohio River to begin their exploration of the Louisiana Purchase. During the 19th century, the river was the southern boundary of the Northwest Territory and part of the border between free and slave territories. Thus, it was the way to freedom for thousands of slaves escaping to the North using the Underground Railroad.<br />
<br />
There are many journals of early Ohio River explorers and travelers. We were most interested in Lewis and Clark’s travels because we had previously cycled their route from St. Louis, Missouri to Astoria, Oregon. Meriwether Lewis started that journey in Washington DC where he received instructions from President Jefferson, obtained funding, and purchased equipment. Lewis left DC on July 5, 1803 and traveled to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania where the Ohio River begins. In September of that year, he loaded his boats, traveled down the Ohio River and met William Clark in Clarksville, Indiana. Together they floated down the Ohio to the Mississippi River then up to St. Louis.<br />
<br />
The Ohio River, which flows southwesterly from Pittsburgh, to Cairo, Illinois, is a major tributary of the Mississippi River. It is 981 miles long, and flows through or along the border of six states. It took Lewis almost 6 months to reach St. Louis, we did it in less than 3 weeks. Our road journey was 1,100 miles over 19 days with 17,763 feet of climbing. Our daily journal, photos, and routes can be seen at ohioriverride2019.blogspot.com.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif027nI8BPl3FQJGtICqBWxMoSd7Ow3xgJWzvuq4_FCblxpB-bOLtLnXWUx16XPs1PX_Ag8AomrIoCARzB43FdWZJROArrHWvxz_Byn-a_HFIquT5jnTBRA3QnFEXyOl1fpJZC3fuOEqY/s1600/IMG_5931+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="922" data-original-width="1600" height="115" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif027nI8BPl3FQJGtICqBWxMoSd7Ow3xgJWzvuq4_FCblxpB-bOLtLnXWUx16XPs1PX_Ag8AomrIoCARzB43FdWZJROArrHWvxz_Byn-a_HFIquT5jnTBRA3QnFEXyOl1fpJZC3fuOEqY/s200/IMG_5931+copy.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
The Ohio River, before heading southwest, actually goes north from Pittsburgh. Since we could not find a good route along its northern journey, we headed west over the hills from Pittsburgh to Lawrenceville, West Virginia. There, we first saw the river and imagined floating a raft down to the Mississippi.<br />
<br />
According to some of the early journals, the clay along the riverbanks was good for pottery and was the start of many settlements. The town of Newell, West Virginia was one of these towns where Laughlin Pottery was started in 1871. Owensboro, Kentucky was originally known as "Yellow Banks" from the color of the land beside the Ohio River. Marietta, Ohio dates to 1808 when a potter and his family settled there, making it one of the earliest pottery manufacturing sites in the entire Northwest Territory. The town of Henderson, Kentucky also had its origins in the river’s clay. It was initially called "Red Banks" because of the reddish clay soil of the bluffs overlooking the Ohio River.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuVK7EnNQtSavw5xOqCBM_kbUnvVK0mzFWE0tA4aE02_4a7OHigi1YbnMhIrIM-TrahS8WOLlWSeFj2MpZoIjydJtIu5rW9-mSR-0DPUPg5Z_38dKLWoXTB68yPY951zD-HmgVpzHU8NU/s1600/IMG_5956+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="792" data-original-width="1600" height="98" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuVK7EnNQtSavw5xOqCBM_kbUnvVK0mzFWE0tA4aE02_4a7OHigi1YbnMhIrIM-TrahS8WOLlWSeFj2MpZoIjydJtIu5rW9-mSR-0DPUPg5Z_38dKLWoXTB68yPY951zD-HmgVpzHU8NU/s200/IMG_5956+copy.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
We cycled in all 6 states that border the Ohio River. We crossed the river several times, sometimes for better roads or interesting places, other times for lodging. After we left Pennsylvania, we entered West Virginia but had to cross into Ohio for our first night’s lodging in Steubenville. The soldiers of the 1st American Regiment built Fort Steuben to protect the government surveyors mapping the land west of the Ohio River, and named the fort in honor of Baron Friedrich Wilhelm von Steuben. When the surveyors completed their task a few years later, the fort was abandoned but the town survived.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNSzqNTAYZQt5mt1lRmHy9eJjlwtJF9MevFHR7Cj6znEgln1fJTf8uL7Qwm7SqiebeN5JQ1oyoZ1oehfsxKz6DT_janbYElrDrIz4M7vpadBDbOavX2lSTaLho8bQ6Aw2t50KwcZSO4qk/s1600/IMG_6006+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNSzqNTAYZQt5mt1lRmHy9eJjlwtJF9MevFHR7Cj6znEgln1fJTf8uL7Qwm7SqiebeN5JQ1oyoZ1oehfsxKz6DT_janbYElrDrIz4M7vpadBDbOavX2lSTaLho8bQ6Aw2t50KwcZSO4qk/s200/IMG_6006+copy.jpg" width="200" /></a>In Sistersville, West Virginia we had planned to take the ferry across the river to cycle on the Ohio side. When we got to the ferry it was “beached” and no one was around. We cycled back into town where we were told that the ferry was no longer running. We continued west on the West Virginia side to St. Marys, where we crossed the river and headed to Marietta, Ohio. During 1788, pioneers established Marietta as the first permanent settlement of the new territory. After cycling an endless commercial strip to reach the old town, we visited a Gothic Revival house that was built in 1855. Over the years, the house hosted some of Marietta’s most prominent and influential citizens. Marietta is also home to a river boat museum. Its collection includes the W.P. Snyder, Jr., the last steam powered towboat on the Ohio River. While no longer steam powered, we saw many tugboats gracefully pushing barges 3-wide and 6-long up the river.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPVFXE6nwcMkSlMCMy77pcfBb15o_koQ7WAokq7UwA4djhRopSY_WoVq5FNvWUJOuzB-Nds5BFsFKgrL7mnjOztJYKPjRG1Qjkrbf3d1BTTk_iOxIrTUnds2bl6lkdwNyA4QgO94Ekxdw/s1600/20190629_123736+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="112" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPVFXE6nwcMkSlMCMy77pcfBb15o_koQ7WAokq7UwA4djhRopSY_WoVq5FNvWUJOuzB-Nds5BFsFKgrL7mnjOztJYKPjRG1Qjkrbf3d1BTTk_iOxIrTUnds2bl6lkdwNyA4QgO94Ekxdw/s200/20190629_123736+copy.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTeEibl06aw3zf2_FvhQin4fgNb1K11KOWD4PisqTGZrbKXxwUs9z1J0hUyXFYNj1AhJ4eOmslC9oWYQ1V3gh8sa_iPF3B7dlslu9Ruo-y_73QY3z9odEcbAa9pTuaJfvAQES8kmwmEAQ/s1600/20190629_124741+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="995" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTeEibl06aw3zf2_FvhQin4fgNb1K11KOWD4PisqTGZrbKXxwUs9z1J0hUyXFYNj1AhJ4eOmslC9oWYQ1V3gh8sa_iPF3B7dlslu9Ruo-y_73QY3z9odEcbAa9pTuaJfvAQES8kmwmEAQ/s200/20190629_124741+copy.jpg" width="124" /></a>In Point Pleasant, West Virginia we sought out the Lowe Hotel, built in 1901. The current owners purchased it in 1990 and restored it to its former glory. Except for the window air conditioners and bathrooms, it is period correct. It is a family-run business and the family lives on the first floor. Our hosts treated us to a room overlooking the Ohio River. Wandering around the town, we discovered Mothman. His statue and museum were prominent downtown attractions. Being totally clueless, we asked the hotel proprietor about Mothman. He told us that a man that looked like a moth was spotted many times around town and predicted disasters, including the collapse of their bridge over the Ohio River in 1967. After the bridge collapsed, Mothman disappeared but lives on with the town’s festival that brings in 15,000 visitors annually. Additionally, Mothman’s prophesies were featured in 2002 movie, starring Richard Gere and Laura Linney.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7HKT_jGdSNssiJNjSUHcKwwKevKI9xCDCwpNlc3u5LoWTmYgSx0VQVSDxuPGdd2cbcWR7zXi5FF2OhHpGXzKzLGuBWdw5zcSllg6VrOImT7psWF8oazZ_Ea3jSbknthRHr9lLOrH5wfg/s1600/IMG_6086+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1005" data-original-width="1600" height="125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7HKT_jGdSNssiJNjSUHcKwwKevKI9xCDCwpNlc3u5LoWTmYgSx0VQVSDxuPGdd2cbcWR7zXi5FF2OhHpGXzKzLGuBWdw5zcSllg6VrOImT7psWF8oazZ_Ea3jSbknthRHr9lLOrH5wfg/s200/IMG_6086+copy.jpg" width="200" /></a>Some days were full of diverse points of interest. For example, on our way to Huntington, West Virginia, our first stop was at a roadside historical sign that noted a Native American burial mound. The sign was interesting, but as far as we could see, the terrain was flat. Our next stop was at Green Bottom, the home of a Civil War General. Later, we came to Hillbilly Hot Dogs. This restaurant was featured on the TV show Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives, and looked “stereotypical hillbilly”. In Huntington, we stopped at the Madie Carroll House. The original section of the house was built prior to 1810 and is believed to have arrived by flatboat from Gallipolis, Ohio. As our eclectic day continued, we found a nice place for a late breakfast called Butter It Up. Its name is derived from blending a tablespoon of butter into a cup of coffee before serving it. We spent the night in Huntington and enjoyed its vibrant downtown, restaurants, and entertainment. The town is home to Marshall University and young folks were everywhere. (A 2006 movie “We are Marshall” depicts the University’s effort to recover after a plane crash takes the lives of most of Marshall University's football team.)<br />
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Joe does a wonderful job of planning our routes. In the past, he has come up with some interesting ways to avoid traffic. We have gone through parking lots, industrial sites, the wrong way on one-way streets, on narrow paths that were trails in name only, over abandoned bridges, and through construction sites. To avoid the busy highway into Ironton, Ohio, we cycled thru a cemetery, a first for us. Ironton has miles of brick streets and very well-kept old homes. The town was founded in 1849 by John Campbell, a prominent pig iron manufacturer. Between 1850 and 1890, Ironton was one of the foremost producers of iron in the world.<br />
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Many towns along the Ohio are noted for their flood wall murals. Portsmouth, Ohio started its painting in 1993, creating a mural 20 feet high x 160 feet long. The mural project was completed in 2002 with 2,200 feet of art along the Ohio River. The project is the largest known work of art by a single artist.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrJ_O-ErafzuGfj45SbZ6zO0LRV2uzmJTO-e5nXuIoqiq_wyS65KmkbzRpUX31Syj6J3Hagm9yQvjRf1jZxos8LKMUogsKSYE_ETMHI4K_slZhEeuH3TTzTkq30S4oZXCmPQ5FC7CdC2w/s1600/IMG_6152+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="913" data-original-width="1600" height="113" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrJ_O-ErafzuGfj45SbZ6zO0LRV2uzmJTO-e5nXuIoqiq_wyS65KmkbzRpUX31Syj6J3Hagm9yQvjRf1jZxos8LKMUogsKSYE_ETMHI4K_slZhEeuH3TTzTkq30S4oZXCmPQ5FC7CdC2w/s200/IMG_6152+copy.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGaQ3vF4b_LLLF35M1QEqJfiuy2op9og5LEHu6eH8Sqdyvu3pa6UQftlm6pIUbHRdyYOba_e0Dxm3Vhk9CzmdyFh19uRkcpRMhsQMaP88FFaRNiBg0no0htiqpH4nuwIympdzEr-SxLH8/s1600/IMG_6156.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGaQ3vF4b_LLLF35M1QEqJfiuy2op9og5LEHu6eH8Sqdyvu3pa6UQftlm6pIUbHRdyYOba_e0Dxm3Vhk9CzmdyFh19uRkcpRMhsQMaP88FFaRNiBg0no0htiqpH4nuwIympdzEr-SxLH8/s200/IMG_6156.jpg" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGXfQpW-Z1VLySHgi7G2de2o9omwN2SPm1Lf81Ijm6bznT2P08Ltj8WkRaoajE_hxrbb2zpsmbrSdHvysCP4AAXd10h0vXUrNttZjguqk6BzMhGI0AvLKvTbNrrw6ch0FKnuDhOIKXbqI/s1600/20190702_174809+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="629" data-original-width="1600" height="78" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGXfQpW-Z1VLySHgi7G2de2o9omwN2SPm1Lf81Ijm6bznT2P08Ltj8WkRaoajE_hxrbb2zpsmbrSdHvysCP4AAXd10h0vXUrNttZjguqk6BzMhGI0AvLKvTbNrrw6ch0FKnuDhOIKXbqI/s200/20190702_174809+copy.jpg" width="200" /></a>One river crossing took us from Ohio to Maysville, Kentucky, where we planned to spend the night. We had to cross the Simon Kenton Memorial Bridge built in 1931. Its main span is 1,060 feet long, and the total length of the bridge is 1,991 feet. Maysville is a neat little town with a vibrant downtown, many historic sites, and plenty of restaurants. We stopped at the National Underground Railroad Museum, which is housed in a former safe house. Next we toured the Kentucky Gateway Museum that contains regional history and over 4,000 artifacts. We also saw the Russell Theatre which was the site of the world premiere of Rosemary Clooney's first film (“The Stars Are Singing”, in 1953). Maysville also has flood wall murals depicting the town’s history.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjXK2ngH8MT0W0ZWKcx495hlsRTXlPxHwNER1-a4IK0lMI1JMWPa9Ytrh59pvaW-D0wFYvsfpTiNTRbzwjEe8wE-0zdSkAZIFNrmZC4Md-FdDwkbtGMfQ6RlnAXBtlQs7ndiBdGeQ3VIg/s1600/IMG_6174+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjXK2ngH8MT0W0ZWKcx495hlsRTXlPxHwNER1-a4IK0lMI1JMWPa9Ytrh59pvaW-D0wFYvsfpTiNTRbzwjEe8wE-0zdSkAZIFNrmZC4Md-FdDwkbtGMfQ6RlnAXBtlQs7ndiBdGeQ3VIg/s200/IMG_6174+copy.jpg" width="200" /></a>“Believe it or not”, we visited a second town named Ripley. It was in Ohio, the first one was in West Virginia. The Ohio town was named in 1816 to honor General Eleazar Wheelock Ripley, an American officer of the War of 1812. There we stopped at John Parker’s house. He was an American abolitionist, inventor, iron molder and industrialist. Parker, who was African American, helped hundreds of slaves to freedom through the Underground Railroad. He was one of the few blacks to patent an invention before 1900. His house in Ripley is designated a National Historic Landmark and has been restored. Next, we walked our bikes up a half mile hill that was too steep to ride. At the top we visited John Rankin's house and enjoyed a marvelous view of the Ohio River. John Rankin was a Presbyterian minister, educator and abolitionist. Upon moving to Ripley in 1822, he became known as one of Ohio's first and most active "conductors" of the Underground Railroad. In contrast to Rankin’s home and view we next stopped at Ulysses S. Grant's birthplace. The house was so small it could be included in the TV show that features tiny homes.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_W7a3JKELD9IBUixgjoP4-8oVGVduMXXTJpJdkKJWlgiyYgoQhgE13PZpEa5gJ04aLcJvDJ5QDUXF19cN1-BIMQIH9XlWw0_YIQeTD3oayb8cRZFZNnPXgkg_ycTjlg6MQLuGxogtsoI/s1600/IMG_6233+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1258" data-original-width="1600" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_W7a3JKELD9IBUixgjoP4-8oVGVduMXXTJpJdkKJWlgiyYgoQhgE13PZpEa5gJ04aLcJvDJ5QDUXF19cN1-BIMQIH9XlWw0_YIQeTD3oayb8cRZFZNnPXgkg_ycTjlg6MQLuGxogtsoI/s200/IMG_6233+copy.jpg" width="200" /></a>Our introduction to Indiana was interesting. Twenty-five miles from our destination, our route was marked “road closed in 3.5 miles, local traffic only”. The detour, which would involve a big climb in the heat of the day, was not appealing. We ignored the warning and kept cycling along the river and came to the second sign that read “road closed in 1 mile, blah, blah, blah.” We also ignored this warning and eventually went thru the construction site, between barricades and road graders, but on fresh asphalt. Thankfully, we stayed the course because our route took us to the town of Patriot, Indiana. We arrived just as the town’s July 4th parade ended. The folks must have needed a boost to get through the post-parade letdown as we became the center of attention with our loaded bikes and Joe taking pictures. One family approached us because their 3-year-old daughter wanted to share her “parade-float candy” with us. Also, several teenage boys marveled that we had just cycled all the way from Cincinnati, Ohio.<br />
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While most of our time was spent cycling on road ways, we did enjoy some great trails in Wheeling, West Virginia, Cincinnati, Ohio, and Louisville, Kentucky. The Louisville Loop Trail was along the river and provided about 2 hours of traffic-free cycling that took us near West Point, Kentucky. There, we stopped at a small farmers market to purchase fruit. We met some nice folks who asked about our travels and shared some local history. Before leaving, they gave us peaches and brownies. The peaches were ripe, juicy, and delicious. The brownies were also excellent and later served as our lunch. Those nice people made our day.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Gj_qC2ekCjBW8mcSVBsYHgXOSjG5ISQTNuTQSoZ4AiMVgM0weCITfqZuq5KQLKl6X8cnuhA7rWpm8q7Vm0FMcEhB0tfle0fOCflSscwAzuWFYu0CeErs-LwRct63793QIqDNY-w9k_4/s1600/IMG_6311+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Gj_qC2ekCjBW8mcSVBsYHgXOSjG5ISQTNuTQSoZ4AiMVgM0weCITfqZuq5KQLKl6X8cnuhA7rWpm8q7Vm0FMcEhB0tfle0fOCflSscwAzuWFYu0CeErs-LwRct63793QIqDNY-w9k_4/s200/IMG_6311+copy.jpg" width="200" /></a>We started out for Lewisport, Kentucky at dawns first light, but the thick fog made seeing anything difficult. Other senses took over and the unseen were heard--birds chirping, cows mooing, donkeys baying, woodpeckers tapping, and dogs barking. Horse’s hoofs clopped up the hill faster than we pedaled our bikes as a Mennonite carriage approached. Later, we stopped at an old house that was undergoing renovation which belonged to Joseph Holt. He was a member of the President Buchanan administration and convinced Buchanan to oppose the secession of the South. He returned to Kentucky and successfully battled the secessionist element to keep Kentucky in the Union. President Abraham Lincoln appointed him Judge Advocate General of the United States Army. He served as Lincoln's chief arbiter and enforcer of military law, and supporter of emancipation.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3-O5zJwkWyLcuN1ytAADH0Wh7WsF_pghftrMMQgl80-sm7SI_uCG9sfSwnYZUA_C1X-W2saLsA2gUKPD7EEXhzgApFic9yD7w74yLpLRAgTUNLgtFtG3Fo5y3k2mWZogti8nFuC315A8/s1600/IMG_6326+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1205" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3-O5zJwkWyLcuN1ytAADH0Wh7WsF_pghftrMMQgl80-sm7SI_uCG9sfSwnYZUA_C1X-W2saLsA2gUKPD7EEXhzgApFic9yD7w74yLpLRAgTUNLgtFtG3Fo5y3k2mWZogti8nFuC315A8/s200/IMG_6326+copy.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
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After all that history and several serious hills, we found the River View Restaurant on the top of our second climb. The view was fantastic and the food good (sandwiches, ice tea, and strawberry pie). The owner and several patrons stopped at our table to hear of our adventure.<br />
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Owensboro, Kentucky also proved to be an interesting stop. It is the fourth-largest city in the state by population. The first European descendant to settle in Owensboro was frontiersman William Smothers in 1797, for whom the riverfront park is named. While Lewis and Clark wintered there, we made a short stop at a funky coffee shop for breakfast and visited Smothers Park and the International Blue Grass Museum.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiPjSlwfEBCQJ2yRXKhwXgdb3oNcCxSre9nF2mltHymVJSl354OJx-LGSRy_LnfhKnSutatLJAHIptHtHZlDTiNirGheRtSbHdgAAmlSawJ71PeeWoJk3h-vfnKvfGvomMkmA0r0ne1Yc/s1600/IMG_6393+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1322" data-original-width="1600" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiPjSlwfEBCQJ2yRXKhwXgdb3oNcCxSre9nF2mltHymVJSl354OJx-LGSRy_LnfhKnSutatLJAHIptHtHZlDTiNirGheRtSbHdgAAmlSawJ71PeeWoJk3h-vfnKvfGvomMkmA0r0ne1Yc/s200/IMG_6393+copy.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Leaving Kentucky, we crossed the river to Illinois. Our first stop was in Old Shawneetown, said to be the oldest town in Illinois. However, all that remains is a stately old bank building. Because of flooding, the town moved 3 miles further from the river. As we got deeper into Illinois, we found a most welcomed sight on a long (70 mile) hot (90 degree) day. The Garden of the Gods Outpost served us much needed and enjoyed hot dogs and ice cream—a real treat. The owner, Elizabeth, took good care of us. Later she posted our picture on Facebook with a mention of our journey. There we also met a family from Texas, who like us, were following the Ohio River, but in the opposite direction and in a car. They were interested in our suggestions of things to see and do along the river. After lunch, we cycled thru the Garden of the Gods Recreation Area—a 3,300+ acres of natural forested terrain, rock formations and bluffs.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidGgYb0xKG4pWGkef7z0NnpUEPdQGaTlKbhU7POot7vCRUZi0Y-FjKiwRByehRQmDiTAb5qMISVQbROlnJnxNRDwbNBaFWZSPBZf6ttRGTm8TQh2xhA59rHC-mK3ilCO1kCJGFJB11FvQ/s1600/20190712_052127+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1147" data-original-width="1600" height="143" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidGgYb0xKG4pWGkef7z0NnpUEPdQGaTlKbhU7POot7vCRUZi0Y-FjKiwRByehRQmDiTAb5qMISVQbROlnJnxNRDwbNBaFWZSPBZf6ttRGTm8TQh2xhA59rHC-mK3ilCO1kCJGFJB11FvQ/s200/20190712_052127+copy.jpg" width="200" /></a>We spent a great deal of time planning our routes to assure that each day ended with a place to sleep and eat. However, our stop in Cairo, Illinois proved our fallibility. The restaurant next to our hotel had closed and the nearest one was 8 miles away. The “sympathetic” hotel clerk suggested that we walk across the highway to a Dollar General and get a supper that we could cook in the room’s microwave. After a long look at all the “great” options we settled on frozen chicken pies, fruit cups, cookies, and chocolates. Needless to say, we looked forward to the morning’s hotel breakfast, but alas, it proved to be equally unappetizing. The next day we began our ride hungry and faced another challenge. Our planned route to cross the Mississippi River into Missouri was closed due to flooding. A motorist told us that this part of Illinois had been flooded for most of the summer and that access to the bridge had been closed for a month. Since we were heading north anyway, we stayed in Illinois and went to Anna, Illinois, where motels and food were available. This route took us thru Jonesboro, Illinois were Lincoln and Douglas had their famous debate and where Mom’s Café served us lunch and some motherly advice.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG-fi_jv9I-8N9KuZ0PZcqPradwIZhCuNDXrnM1R4xMrfzfewpun9-py9NkrEh49L9gEGqFMZPoMmQH6fmU1isRT1n9jd9Mrw1RNK6QlGzJWmW-5z8XCSBQW24tO3Zo9pqYusOImxJBcY/s1600/IMG_3821+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1342" data-original-width="1600" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG-fi_jv9I-8N9KuZ0PZcqPradwIZhCuNDXrnM1R4xMrfzfewpun9-py9NkrEh49L9gEGqFMZPoMmQH6fmU1isRT1n9jd9Mrw1RNK6QlGzJWmW-5z8XCSBQW24tO3Zo9pqYusOImxJBcY/s200/IMG_3821+copy.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
We wanted to cycle Missouri because it offered a better route to Chester Illinois, our next stop. Staying in Illinois was fine until we got to within 15 miles of Chester. There we encountered a stream of tractor trailer trucks hauling gravel to a barge loading site. While not much fun getting to Chester, the town was nice. Chester is the home of the creator of the cartoon “Popeye,” and is adorned with many Popeye related figures and artwork. In addition, in 2002 we stayed there when we were cycling across the United States. Back then we camped in the city park, cooked over a camp stove, and used a pit toilet. This time we “camped” in an air-conditioned motel with hot showers, and had our dinner delivered. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiZh6o1vYT1VUukZ7W7OUPbgYC4AE0Snfc0wv4kSLvFB-AMdHGj_HxHF03TP2zAU5anDGwdoRLOEbvrIhT1H03FEL5OBLB14nR54S2ci_AJg14mJ88u0oRKFXGWJGIzcipe071S70HQA0/s1600/IMG_6461+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1095" data-original-width="1600" height="136" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiZh6o1vYT1VUukZ7W7OUPbgYC4AE0Snfc0wv4kSLvFB-AMdHGj_HxHF03TP2zAU5anDGwdoRLOEbvrIhT1H03FEL5OBLB14nR54S2ci_AJg14mJ88u0oRKFXGWJGIzcipe071S70HQA0/s200/IMG_6461+copy.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1n1cx7SmhaB8YGzPQBD6Dig6wShqZhyphenhyphenivxX5x1-OLjTbm0WlPBvLXd7l0fz8_KPtI8yeYDglJ2Zb1jmb_THk_Dszjn6F0NjmsIEDLo7rPCJDneiQcIPP_rvtYaBuxHG7x5nbKMD0OFCw/s1600/IMG_6474.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1500" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1n1cx7SmhaB8YGzPQBD6Dig6wShqZhyphenhyphenivxX5x1-OLjTbm0WlPBvLXd7l0fz8_KPtI8yeYDglJ2Zb1jmb_THk_Dszjn6F0NjmsIEDLo7rPCJDneiQcIPP_rvtYaBuxHG7x5nbKMD0OFCw/s200/IMG_6474.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
Leving Chester was our last cycling day as we headed to St. Louis, Missouri. The transition between rural cycling and our first view of St. Louis’ tall buildings was surprising. We were still in the country but looming in front of us was the city. From St. Louis we loaded our bikes into a rental van and drove back to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, where our personal vehicles were waiting for our travels home. It was a wonderful journey following the westward expansion of our nation and learning about the Underground Railroad.<br />
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yellowbiketaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03930267735169346620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8612292389702167581.post-26293633491837320522018-11-09T12:43:00.004-05:002018-11-09T12:55:42.932-05:00The End of Land <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Photo Credits: <span style="font-size: 12pt; text-align: center;">Joseph Insalaco and Hans-Peter Tinguely</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhooy-BeTWJKFjyeG3Ingh_ZLudKEb2mjNh-OQGQzsiCv3EVcGPlS7RezQ6Xcv8-u7EyDbvcDGcHZ84AtWQKphuIoT7W97X8ZPq8uEt39_hJred_x1A3UduaPwh-Cz2cLHq3rAH1DNAsvg/s1600/3+of+us.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="760" data-original-width="1000" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhooy-BeTWJKFjyeG3Ingh_ZLudKEb2mjNh-OQGQzsiCv3EVcGPlS7RezQ6Xcv8-u7EyDbvcDGcHZ84AtWQKphuIoT7W97X8ZPq8uEt39_hJred_x1A3UduaPwh-Cz2cLHq3rAH1DNAsvg/s320/3+of+us.jpg" width="320" /></span></a><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We met in 2002, on an
Adventure Cycling bicycle trip across the United States.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Joe is from New York State, HP from Switzerland,
and I am from Virginia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those many years
ago, we had to get up every morning, pack our tents, and cycle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a schedule and no debate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now our cycling adventures are more relaxed:
off route stops are encouraged, short cuts accepted, long lunches at a
micro-brewery are contemplated, and tents left at home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In July 2018, we cycled the Gaspé Peninsula
in Quebec, Canada, where beautiful waters and challenging climbs abound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The Gaspésie
(official name), or Gaspé Peninsula, is a peninsula along the south shore of
the Saint Lawrence River that extends into the Gulf of Saint Lawrence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The origin of the name "Gaspé" means
"end", referring to the end of the land. Our 11 day journey around
the end of the land was 540 miles and included 36,000 feet of climbing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">We met in Ste. Flavie,
a tourist town on the Saint Lawrence River.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The town dates to the mid-1800 and has many restaurants, hotels, a beach,
and an artist community.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While Joe and I
drove there, HP flew from Switzerland to Montréal, rented an E-bike and then
cycled over 400 miles to Ste. Flavie for the start of our trip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Our Gaspé cycling
began under overcast skies and light rain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Not wanting to miss any highlights we made 2 stops within the first few
miles. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the Parc de la Riviere Mitis,
we toured the museum and hiked the trails.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The museum contained some very interesting fossils and native artifacts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We next stopped at the Reford Gardens.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The gardens have 3,000 species of native and
exotic plants in 18 areas, as well as many sculptures, both traditional and
modern.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>According to our guide book, it
is “the most renowned and internationally recognized gardens in North
America.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We agreed that the gardens
were spectacular.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In contrast to day’s
overcast sky and light rain, the flower’s vibrant colors popped, enhancing our
enjoyment of the park’s beauty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Later, the weather
cleared, the sun came out as we continued north east on route 132, the only
route around the peninsula.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While we had
GPSs and maps, none were needed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For the
most part, the traffic on route 132 was relatively light. However, every chance
we had we diverted to the “old route 132” that went thru the towns and along
the St. Lawrence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">We met 2 guys cycling
the peninsula in the opposite direction. They claimed the climbs were easier
that way, but the head winds were tough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>One was a high school science teacher the other an oceanographer, both
in their 20s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We enjoyed their stories
of wild camping, subsisting on the fish and crabs that they caught, and their nightly
parting in brewpubs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their wanderlust
was an interesting contrast to our indoor lodgings, restaurant meals, and early
bed times. At their recommendation, we next stopped in the city of Matane and
had lunch at the La Fabrique micro-brewery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In the town of
Sainte-Felicite, we stayed at a hostel</span> (<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Auberge
de Jeunesse du Manoir des Sapins).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While
the building was old, it was well maintained and staffed by some of the nicest
people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The down side of the hostel was
that it did not serve dinner or breakfast and no restaurants were nearby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>HP went to the only (but not well stocked)
grocery and found fixings for our dinner which he cooked in the hostel’s
kitchen.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The next morning, we
left the hostel without breakfast but found a restaurant about 5 miles away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The early part of our ride had many hills and
each one was a little longer than the last.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>While none of them were steep, they were tiring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The middle of that days’ ride was flat but we
encountered head winds which weren’t so bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In fact, they helped keep us cool in the warmth of the afternoon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>About mile 40, in a 52 mile day, we got off
the highway and cycled thru a “one-street” town that was nearly 5 miles
long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The town had hotels and
restaurants, all calling us to stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>However, we moved on, encountering several more hills before arriving at
our nights lodging.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg1yzu9E4JUHyuUBXa63F33fUTLzjFD_dzEMJ1uN9Mqxzgl_EHEoRaitG_471sajPLBN9YUJKxguJy_yQ0nhyaHl7hj7gC7IkSMU41X73QquTovCqIFG40oIgsyyuuoKX5gjQLEeJ5TsM/s1600/sea+shack.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="525" data-original-width="1600" height="104" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg1yzu9E4JUHyuUBXa63F33fUTLzjFD_dzEMJ1uN9Mqxzgl_EHEoRaitG_471sajPLBN9YUJKxguJy_yQ0nhyaHl7hj7gC7IkSMU41X73QquTovCqIFG40oIgsyyuuoKX5gjQLEeJ5TsM/s320/sea+shack.jpg" width="320" /></span></a><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">This night’s lodging was
chosen to balance out our daily mileage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We reached the Auberge Festive Sea Shack by dropping off the highway
down a steep gravel road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Sea Shack
is a compound of yurts, A-frame cabins, and tent camping on the beach. They
have a circular open-air bar overlooking the beach, and a carryout food-stand
that “cooked-to-order” some interesting meals. Blues/rock music played at a
moderate volume over the compound and the bar had half a dozen micro-brew beers
and ciders on tap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An interesting sign
posted near the bar prohibited smoking "grass" on Sea Shack property
but further stated that “everything was okay on the beach”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Except for us old guys, the average age was
in the mid-twenties.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most males and
females were minimally clothed but full of tattoos and piercings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, several females were in dresses and
hats that looked like vintage clothing from the 1930s. While it was relatively
quiet, the Sea Shack is known for its wild summer concerts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No concert was scheduled for that night but around
11 p.m. the music style changed and the volume increased to a loud pulsating
cacophony of endless noise (yes we are old) that lasted until 3 a.m.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">We decided on an
early start and were tempted to make noise; however, we behaved and left
quietly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Joe and I pushed our bikes up
the steep gravel road to the highway but HP road his electric bike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He looked like a potentate on a sedan chair
waiving and smiling at the peasants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
started without breakfast but, after several climbs, we came upon a small café
that was just opening for the day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Antoine,
the owner, roasted beans on-site and served us Brazilian coffee and homemade
muffins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>About half way thru the day’s
ride we finally found a restaurant for a full breakfast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While the day started with climbs and
headwinds, the cycling gods smiled on us. The road flattened and we picked up a
powerful tailwind that pushed us at 20 plus mph to our night’s lodging. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The next day was a
tough day, a long day, a constant climb day, and it was hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We went over the mountains that separate the
Seaway from the Atlantic Ocean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As soon
as we left our motel we started climbing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was long and steep. After 2 more miles we had a short downhill before
climbing again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was typical of the
day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The downhills even had up-hills and
the up-hills had false crests requiring more climbing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The few screaming down hills required
diligence to stay out of the ruts and pot holes in the road. Our typical day had
between 2,000 and 3,000 feet of climbing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Getting to the Atlantic side required almost 7,000 feet of
climbing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the brighter side, the
views of the Atlantic were spectacular.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Even with his electric bike HP was tired and Joe and I were
exhausted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRtyvMAHJ8SQfjGd48sbW2qM8CKtsZnytiB4zA2xfjP9fljltbEbDwfNq_OGIBMkSGx4NQxY6MAj5pKXtFPWRpkZarVQUljtlmD7XwVRb5Nh1vJeXID_g9GOKnt1_1bCBGMkGGF2ohgxg/s1600/lighthouse2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRtyvMAHJ8SQfjGd48sbW2qM8CKtsZnytiB4zA2xfjP9fljltbEbDwfNq_OGIBMkSGx4NQxY6MAj5pKXtFPWRpkZarVQUljtlmD7XwVRb5Nh1vJeXID_g9GOKnt1_1bCBGMkGGF2ohgxg/s320/lighthouse2.jpg" width="320" /></span></a><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Our first day on the
Atlantic side was beautiful. We woke to blue skies, pleasant temperature and a
fresh ocean breeze.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The day began with a
long climb which took us inland from the coast. At first, our leg muscles
reminded us of yesterday's 6,600 feet of climbs, but soon we warmed up and made
the ascent in good shape.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then a fast
descent took us back to the coast. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mid-morning
we arrived at the bay L'Anse-au-Griffon and the Forillon National Park. This
scenic park juts out into the Gulf of St. Lawrence and is wild and rugged with
scenic limestone cliffs. The park is also the site of a historic lighthouse,
the tallest in Canada and one of many that were along our route.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Rather that cycling
around the park’s perimeter, we chose to cycle thru the park on a trail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trail had a big climb but we were
sheltered from the sun by the thick forest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The seclusion and silence was only interrupted by the birdsong that
encouraged us onward. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Exiting the park, we
returned to civilization and got back on route 132. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We soon stopped to explore Fort Ramsay. The
Fort was built in 1940 to protect the bay from a German invasion. A few miles
further along the bay, we reached our day’s destination, the town of Gaspé. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The town is the peninsula’s administrative and
commercial center. In July 1543, Jacques Cartier landed here and claimed the
land in the name of the King of France.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX2FkKK7TBklSTgOkfFhxxgIYwyr5b35N6gu7CTdPevoQgxHO-YIwfL9lVLJ6DalMPpRkotGn6hIkj3yYcf7w8GN2NcRg5ozP5l-iitD0cc1gd1XpqYf6BhIoMMXIy5jWC1ppDBPI_97k/s1600/IMG_3686.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX2FkKK7TBklSTgOkfFhxxgIYwyr5b35N6gu7CTdPevoQgxHO-YIwfL9lVLJ6DalMPpRkotGn6hIkj3yYcf7w8GN2NcRg5ozP5l-iitD0cc1gd1XpqYf6BhIoMMXIy5jWC1ppDBPI_97k/s320/IMG_3686.jpg" width="320" /></span></a><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The next morning we
left the town on a 6 mile paved trail that took us back to route 132.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There we met a jogger who told us that route
132 had some dangerous sections ahead and suggested a short cut. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our ride quickly got very interesting. The
short cut dumped us onto a soft-sand path. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We quickly found ourselves up to our knees in
weeds and sand so deep it was hard to push our bikes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Next, we had to cross an abandoned railroad
bridge that required careful steps on the wooden ties.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the other side of the bridge we had more
soft sand before returning to route 132.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We felt like hobos, but taking this 2 mile short cut saved us 9 miles of
questionable highway cycling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvyGVnHaPM0j750kj4DNbcJQ5Us-6KqwZwQ-_N8H1JfjjzQC7dUfsps1OkhsaUuA4u5GY75RXYw7I-Q-Ck6qvsQFJVuXE7_F3hzE8AzPx7bT8NuLtdaPT_LWw7_m0f9KMjMxJMMHBxwI/s1600/IMG_5801.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvyGVnHaPM0j750kj4DNbcJQ5Us-6KqwZwQ-_N8H1JfjjzQC7dUfsps1OkhsaUuA4u5GY75RXYw7I-Q-Ck6qvsQFJVuXE7_F3hzE8AzPx7bT8NuLtdaPT_LWw7_m0f9KMjMxJMMHBxwI/s320/IMG_5801.JPG" width="320" /></span></a><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Our day continued
with rolling (but gentle) hills until we got to another shortcut. This trail
was labeled as the “cycle route” and went thru the Malbaie Salt Marsh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The cycle route was just as challenging as
the last shortcut.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In many sections
the asphalt was washed away by the tide and in some places replaced by loose
grave that made it difficult to push our bikes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We could not believe that this was a designated cycle route.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the other side of the salt marsh route 132
had another big climb.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were told that
this would be very difficult but after the past several days of climbing, we
thought that it was not as bad as described.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>At the top of the mountain we stopped at a café that provide a fantastic
view of the bay and Percé Rock below.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>After a locally brewed beer (only 1 each) we dropped down into the town
of Percé, enjoying a fast 17% decline.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Percé,
was a fishing village that is now a popular tourist stop. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The town gets its name from a heavily eroded
rock, which is pierced (percé in French) by a large hole at one end. Indeed,
the whole coast is a magnificent natural spectacle that's incredibly picturesque
with rocky outcrops, towering cliffs, and surf.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBUblANcS5rAMSjVIRweMFquxqeTFskbbnFWR6SPpKGRv6GX0POb863BydPFtHPjK5fDYmr9aoVDbPTFRRPlr8Xtpg7-XykebpXBch-M1yfBAAQ2lbORe19I0Qfc92C7fLgkplbyUNwvw/s1600/climbing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBUblANcS5rAMSjVIRweMFquxqeTFskbbnFWR6SPpKGRv6GX0POb863BydPFtHPjK5fDYmr9aoVDbPTFRRPlr8Xtpg7-XykebpXBch-M1yfBAAQ2lbORe19I0Qfc92C7fLgkplbyUNwvw/s320/climbing.jpg" width="320" /></span></a><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Our route first took
us northeast along the St. Lawrence River, then out to the Atlantic Ocean. Leaving
Percé we cycled along the south side of the peninsula by the Baie de la Chaleur
(bay).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bay is known for its warm
temperatures where salmon spawn in the gravel banks of its tributaries. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In contrast to the earlier part of the
peninsula where the climate and terrain were rugged, here we saw sandy beaches packed
with sunbathers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While we did not stop for a swim, HP likened it
to one of his Mediterranean holidays.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">We ended our day at
the Gîte A l'Abri du Clocher. This B&B is located next to the Catholic
Church and was once its rectory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It had
been carefully renovated and beautifully decorated by the owners Michèle and
José. They still keep one room available for a possible visit by the bishop, even
though he visits only once every four years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The next morning our hosts provided us with a great breakfast of fresh
fruit with homemade cream, homemade pastries, fresh crepes, coffee, and
juice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our breakfast made for a good
start to cycle into a rainy day. However, after an hour, the rain tapered off
and the temperatures rose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">For the day’s last 20
miles, we cycled next to the Matapedia River. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mid-day, we took a break under a gazebo
overlooking the river.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There, we sat in
the shade, ate our lunch, and met Chery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She told us that she was born and raised nearby and that the home where
she lived was in her family for seven generations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many of the men in her family either worked
for the railroad or were fishing guides on the river.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">We continued along
the river to our nights lodging (Auberge de la Riviere Matapedia).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The fishing lodge was on the opposite side of
the river, accessed by a long covered bridge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Upon our arrival, Sophia, our hostess, made us comfortable on the
veranda and brought us ice cold beers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Waiting
for our rooms to be ready, we watched the humming birds feed just above our
heads and listened to the river flowing over the rocks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Later that evening, the host prepared dinner
for us and a family visiting from France.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">We had a good night’s
sleep at the fishing lodge and woke to a nice breakfast of “pancakes”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pancakes that we had been eating were
more like crepes than the pancakes we got in the US.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were very dense, some were small but todays
were plate sized.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Joe and I got an early
start but HP delayed his start to socialize with the French family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our route continued along the Matapedia River
and we stopped to watch the fly fishermen work their rods in a ballet of fluid
motion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The temperature rose during
the morning and the humidity was stifling. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, the last several miles were next to a
lake and picture perfect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The night’s B&B
(Gite Grand-Pere Nicole) sat just across from the lake and a park.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Upon our arrival, our hostess and her
daughter made us feel very welcome and the offer of the use of their pool was
quickly accepted. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">In the morning, our
gracious host and hostess had a wonderful breakfast for us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By the time we ate and loaded our bikes, the
winds picked up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course, it was a headwind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Along the way we saw many cyclists sailing by
in the opposite direction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of them
crossed the highway to talk to us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>John
left Vancouver 58 days earlier when he started his trans-Canadian bike ride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was proud that he had camped all the way
and not spent one night in a motel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
attribute this to his age. We, on the other hand were proud that we had spent
every night in a “real” lodging.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
ended our cycling tour in Ste. Flavie, where we began.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Over all, our trip
around Gaspe was 540 miles with 36,000 feet of climbing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It took us 11 days of cycling with no
layovers to make the loop around the peninsula.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Since HP’s journey started in Montreal, he cycled 1,000 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Leaving Ste. Flavie, we drove to Montreal to
drop off HP for his flight home, and Joe and I continued our drive south to our
homes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><u><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Day</span></u><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span><u>Miles</u>
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><u>E-Gain</u><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><u>Daily destination</u><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">1<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>50.53<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>2,126<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> feet </span>Saint-Felicite</span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">2<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>54.01<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>3,736<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
Sea Shack</span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">3<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>51.71<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>2,887<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span>Saint-Madeleine
de-la-Riviere-Madeleine<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">4<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>51.31<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>6,604<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Riviere-Madeleine</span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">5<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>28.77<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>2,692<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Gaspe</span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">6<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>41.71<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>3,267<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Perce</span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">7<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>70.32<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>4,151<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>New
Carlisle</span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">8<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>58.35<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>2,908<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Nouvelle</span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">9<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>55.47<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>2,799<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Routhierville</span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">10<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span>37.40<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>2,115<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Val-Brillant</span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">11<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span><u>36.60</u><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><u>2,511</u><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ste. Flavie</span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Totals<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>536.19<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>35,796 feet</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Our daily bog with maps and more pictures, can be seen at: <span class="MsoHyperlink"><a href="https://gaspeodyssey2018.blogspot.com/">https://gaspeodyssey2018.blogspot.com/</a></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">HP’s photo gallery can be seen at: <span class="MsoHyperlink"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7gkUwd6vXpg&feature=youtu.be">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7gkUwd6vXpg&feature=youtu.be</a></span><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<br />yellowbiketaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03930267735169346620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8612292389702167581.post-24847929217108954262016-08-30T20:05:00.000-04:002017-04-17T10:11:00.897-04:00TRAILS THROUGH HISTORY<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
(Published in SPOKES, October 2016)<br />
Photos by Joseph
Insalaco<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh65m0GRwWeeaQATqjt66E_dtK3HNOtkL-HNgbvRalOYm3IJB2-lHy1FnHlDvldfcvJdjZlO61dzUwJp0v1fp9ilb3r7bhQDkffl_im0WU_e9LbGiVz_75CVhy3AamiRhnEOwb3IkqoDjg/s1600/IMG_0371.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh65m0GRwWeeaQATqjt66E_dtK3HNOtkL-HNgbvRalOYm3IJB2-lHy1FnHlDvldfcvJdjZlO61dzUwJp0v1fp9ilb3r7bhQDkffl_im0WU_e9LbGiVz_75CVhy3AamiRhnEOwb3IkqoDjg/s200/IMG_0371.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the fall of 2015, bicyclists from York County,
Pennsylvania, undertook a six-day ride to raise support for completion of the
Grand History Trail (GHT). The GHT is a
300-mile regional trail network that provides a circular tour through 250 years
of American history via Washington, D.C.; Baltimore and Annapolis in Maryland;
and York, Hanover, and Gettysburg in Pennsylvania. (The GHT’s web site can be found at www.grandhistorytrail.org/.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In June 2016, Joe and I cycled a slightly modified GHT. We
started in Falls Church, VA and our first history stop was The Falls Church,
the church that gave the town its name.
The church dates back to the early 1700s. During the Civil War the building served as a
hospital and then a stable and barracks for troops of both sides. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Leaving Falls Church, we headed west towards Leesburg, VA, a
historic town we added to our tour. In
doing so, we substituted the GHT’s route on the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal Trail
(C&O) with the Washington and Old Dominion Trail (W&OD). The W&OD is a 45-mile long paved trail that
goes from Shirlington,VA to Purcellville, VA.
It is built on the rail bed of the Washington and Old Dominion Railroad,
which operated from 1859 to 1968.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Our first stop on the W&OD was Vienna, VA; where, just
off the trail, we passed the Vienna Inn.
The Inn is 60 years old and has been a favorite stop for cyclist since
the trail opened. We also cycled by the unique and award winning
“Bikes at Vienna” that specializes in 2 and 3 wheel recumbents and folding
bicycles. East of Leesburg, we stopped
to view the cavernous Luck Stone Quarry, a favored rest stop for cyclists. Entering Leesburg we saw a vibrant downtown
with lots of shops, restaurants, and history. Originally named Georgetown after King George,
the name was later changed to Leesburg, in honor of Francis Lightfoot Lee, a
signer of the Declaration of Independence. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQaiqeznX1Ml-WM7bwtR-lJJWl52AvRzLBimNr63RFyoL6v9aT0INb6ZdIPYkY5ObmSvrkvXCl2evelwXvUtXK_x1OP78ZJa8Yhwr887XPrwAVKJl0jZT99TZxUigazA-v95sD6ozhz0E/s1600/IMG_0067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQaiqeznX1Ml-WM7bwtR-lJJWl52AvRzLBimNr63RFyoL6v9aT0INb6ZdIPYkY5ObmSvrkvXCl2evelwXvUtXK_x1OP78ZJa8Yhwr887XPrwAVKJl0jZT99TZxUigazA-v95sD6ozhz0E/s200/IMG_0067.JPG" width="200" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
<o:p></o:p></span>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In Leesburg we stopped at George C. Marshall’s home. He was the architect of the European Recovery
Program (the Marshall Plan) at the end of World War II. The house retains many
of its early 19th-century architectural details. In addition, we stopped at the Loudoun County
courthouse, erected in 1895; the Thomas Birkby House, circa 1770; and the Lightfoot
restaurant, constructed in 1888 in the Romanesque Revival Style and housed a
bank for many years. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">On local roads, we cycled out of Leesburg to Whites Ferry,
VA. White's Ferry is the last of many
ferries that operated on the Potomac River. Our barge, named after the
confederate Civil War General Jubal A. Early, carried us across the Potomac
River into Maryland. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We next cycled on the C&O Canal Trail. Operating for nearly 100 years the canal was
a lifeline for communities along the Potomac River as coal, lumber and
agricultural products floated down the waterway to market. The C&O Canal
trail is 184.5 miles long, but we only cycled on it for about 9 miles. This section was mostly </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE_gFX7JniMbUsRIBH8CcsfCEKICj8ExYFNpG-vRtyF_nnfSULAUlY3PuGmdqPhyphenhyphenzNQKBKBPzw_qT5QlMHPq6dVrZDDdWPWShAuTGtLt2JDALOcn_g0LifBpNlpNwy_G8Yp2BNa9hlufU/s1600/IMG_0089.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE_gFX7JniMbUsRIBH8CcsfCEKICj8ExYFNpG-vRtyF_nnfSULAUlY3PuGmdqPhyphenhyphenzNQKBKBPzw_qT5QlMHPq6dVrZDDdWPWShAuTGtLt2JDALOcn_g0LifBpNlpNwy_G8Yp2BNa9hlufU/s200/IMG_0089.JPG" width="200" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">single-track with
packed gravel. We saw canal locks and a lock
house. Once we exited the C&O, we
headed north on country roads to Frederick, MD. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Frederick’s downtown contains many unique restaurants and
shops. Frederick was an important stop
along the Great Wagon Road that came south from Gettysburg, Pennsylvania and
continued down the Appalachian Valley.
It was also a stopping point on the westward migration to cross the
Appalachian Mountains. We also noted
that Frederick briefly became Maryland's capital in 1861. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Frederick is home to the National Museum of Civil War
Medicine, the Roads and Rails Museum, and the wonderful Carroll Creek
Park. This park began as a flood control
project in late 1970s but now includes pedestrian paths, water features, shade
trees, pedestrian bridges, and a 350 seat amphitheater. Interesting public art is incorporated into
the park.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Unlike our first day’s ride with 90 degree temperatures, day
2 started out in the 60s. Google’s best
route out of Frederick indicated that we should cycle through Fort Detrick, MD. While very skeptical that this could be done,
we cycled to the gate only to face the inevitable rejection. However, the ride-around did not take long.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Once out of the city, our route was mostly country roads with
farms and orchards. At Catoctin Furnace,
MD, we had our day’s first photo stop.
Catoctin Furnace is a sleepy village at the base of Catoctin
Mountain. The village got its name from
the iron furnaces that were built in the 1770’s, making tools and household
items. During the American Revolution, they
made military shells. After the Civil
War battle at Gettysburg, PA the furnace hired both Northern and Southern
troops escaping the war.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">From there, we went thru the town of Thurmont, MD (founded
in 1751) and close to Camp David, the Presidential retreat. We soon crossed 2 covered bridges. The first, the Utica Road Covered Bridge
crossed over Fishing Creek. The bridge
structure was originally built in 1834 and spanned the Monocacy River. An 1889 flood damaged the bridge and the
surviving half was moved to Fishing Creek in 1891. It was listed on the
National Register of Historic Places on June 23, 1978<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Next we cycled through Emmetsburg, MD (founded in 1785) and through
Mount St. Mary’s University. There we
saw the National Shrine Grotto of Our Lady of Lourdes, and the Basilica and
National Shrine of St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, who was the first native born
United States citizen to be canonized as a saint. We soon passed the National
Emergency Training Center campus, which includes the Emergency Management
Institute, the National Fire Academy and the National Fallen Firefighters
Memorial. Like Fort Detrick, we could
not enter this facility. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Before getting to Gettysburg, we crossed the second covered
</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgliAy_68hzZY8_pUy2DDBKoiTKy1NmYRZO3H0zV4XCjy3-KrK_sGY_UtF5XijxNBj9v7tKsvU8uMeR70zJdGpuTMIakmEkKIh78mvfeHXqOxDzWTzn0-GpTBAXtS4c5YDrF0ardYZa4eI/s1600/IMG_3292.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgliAy_68hzZY8_pUy2DDBKoiTKy1NmYRZO3H0zV4XCjy3-KrK_sGY_UtF5XijxNBj9v7tKsvU8uMeR70zJdGpuTMIakmEkKIh78mvfeHXqOxDzWTzn0-GpTBAXtS4c5YDrF0ardYZa4eI/s200/IMG_3292.JPG" width="200" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">bridge. The Sacks Bridge is reportedly haunted by Confederate soldiers that
were hung from its rafters. However, our
passage though the bridge was peaceful.
The Sachs Covered Bridge was built around 1854 and in 1938 was
designated Pennsylvania's most historic bridge.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Near Gettysburg, we passed the Eisenhower farm which was the
home and farm of President Dwight D. Eisenhower. The farm also served the President as a
weekend retreat and a meeting place for world leaders. Next we toured the Civil War’s Gettysburg
Battlefield where President Abraham Lincoln delivered his short, but famous,
Gettysburg Address.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We stayed in downtown Gettysburg at the Federal Pointe Inn. The Inn was created inside a 1900’s renovated
school house. Whether our next day’s
“late” start was attributable to the hotel’s comfort or us being tired, we cannot
say. After breakfast, we leisurely headed
back through the battlefields where Joe took a few more pictures of the many
historic homes we passed. Considering
how brutal the battle was, we were not surprised that many of those homes
served as hospitals during the battle. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Next we headed to the town of Hanover, PA. While the initial part of the route was on a
2-lane road with some traffic, we cycled on a reasonably wide shoulder. After Littlestown, PA we diverted onto very
rural roads with one gravel section. We soon arrived in Hanover which was first
settled in the early 1700s and contained some interesting old buildings. However,
our focus was on a late morning pick-me-upper at a great soft ice cream
stand. The cones were large and
refreshing. Refreshed, we headed to the
Snyder’s of Hanover for a tour of their pretzel factory. In contrast to all the “old stuff” we enjoyed
on our tour, we were impressed with the amount of robotics used in the
production, packaging, and shipping of pretzels. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD_1V80slrLm8iPE5xpthQbqVTpD6VYRv-8zRQ57wrKrrVNTgqN87GBizYcdOmN04mx86xDdtDeHM4h0Gv4wD4x1JPGJVUTtljqzQTIoJFKYTv8ip_U3brri-HFH2XmiFT2-EoiJGKlzc/s1600/IMG_0197.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD_1V80slrLm8iPE5xpthQbqVTpD6VYRv-8zRQ57wrKrrVNTgqN87GBizYcdOmN04mx86xDdtDeHM4h0Gv4wD4x1JPGJVUTtljqzQTIoJFKYTv8ip_U3brri-HFH2XmiFT2-EoiJGKlzc/s200/IMG_0197.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">Before leaving Hanover, we stopped for lunch at The Original
Famous Hot Wiener restaurant. Since it
was famous, it had to be good; right? Our waitress liked cyclist and posed for
a close-up photo. She recommended and we
accepted the house special; a wiener with onions, mustard, chilly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">After lunch we cycled to York, PA on 2-lane roads with
traffic and not much of a shoulder. Most
drivers were patient when they could not pass.
Downtown York was easy to cycle and a good portion of our route allowed
us to take a full lane. We stayed in the
heart of the downtown in the Yorktowne Hotel which was within walking distance
of many restaurants and close to the rail trail that would take us to
Baltimore, MD.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">In York we saw several notable houses, including the Golden
Plough Tavern (1741), the General Horatio Gates House (1751), and the Barnett
Bobb House, also known as the Old Log House. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">On our forth morning, we headed south on the York Heritage
Trail (now called the Torrey C. Brown Rail Trail). Since the trail shares its
right-of-way with a railroad it is called a “rail-with-trail.” The trail was built in 1999 but steeped in
railroad history. During the Civil War,
the railroad was a target of the Confederate Army before the Battle of
Gettysburg. The Confederate Army’s troops tried to isolate the Union by
damaging the railroad, telegraph wires and bridges. In November 1863, President
Lincoln traveled on the railroad and stopped at Hanover Junction before giving
the Gettysburg Address. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">The Heritage Rail Trail has a slight incline as it heads
south to the Maryland border and has a crushed stone surface. The trail has some interesting “trail
art”. In York we enjoyed some industrial
looking sculptures and in Hanover Junction we photographed an interesting horse
and boy sculpture. The town of Glen Rock (which is a national
historic district) had a mural depicting the town’s history. We also posed with some very large “bone
shaker” </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ6PcsZCVrEg9Ul2OhrUeL6kDqYzhVwWagsxCobJkO7_fIB_9g15gHIU8fr9OoZv4CdPH3fU_xUMn9VLrzVw3Xq3sthqsRpCJKQ5euYAW__BfMPqASDe8rOu5A0qZFASj25teixqe30w0/s1600/IMG_0258.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ6PcsZCVrEg9Ul2OhrUeL6kDqYzhVwWagsxCobJkO7_fIB_9g15gHIU8fr9OoZv4CdPH3fU_xUMn9VLrzVw3Xq3sthqsRpCJKQ5euYAW__BfMPqASDe8rOu5A0qZFASj25teixqe30w0/s200/IMG_0258.JPG" width="200" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">bicycle trail art. In the town
of Seven Valleys we saw a sign that claimed the first commercially manufactured
ice cream in the United States. Unfortunately, none was to be enjoyed as we
passed through the town. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheR3YizdjA_9-PLTAmUC44IvObmnDeqq6XyZHKoIphhUf20G_rwwQEY_BgfFlFaaJlDv_yuOEx52sLixYMiQ7icucrlisuX9z3Giy1Y85frhyaPgTd6UAdd8pmO88TsR3IPv0ItFCtwc8/s1600/IMG_3317.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheR3YizdjA_9-PLTAmUC44IvObmnDeqq6XyZHKoIphhUf20G_rwwQEY_BgfFlFaaJlDv_yuOEx52sLixYMiQ7icucrlisuX9z3Giy1Y85frhyaPgTd6UAdd8pmO88TsR3IPv0ItFCtwc8/s200/IMG_3317.JPG" width="150" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">During our ride on the Heritage RailTrail we endured gentle
rain showers all the way to New Freedom, PA. This was the end of the Heritage Rail
Trail and the beginning of the North Central Trail in Maryland. New Freedom houses an excursion train. John, one of the volunteers that keep the
train </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">operating, gave us a tour of the rail cars and allowed us into the engine
house to view the steam locomotive. At
the edge of town is the former Summers Canning Company. A large mural, depicting scenes of the
cannery, is displayed on a building next to the trail.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Leaving New Freedom on the North Central Trail, the rain got
</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8a-AMWD2d_f0EPa49Yp5roY_KQUuZzoOi0q5MAotzPpP_YdYP13x1hi8neJTI6JxqSgpHYnH_J3k39o2grxQcI5bWU3okESRYsEJVmJ2hHRzMZ4WjurqThnwNeDUGrY7fVTUJFheXs4I/s1600/IMG_3307.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8a-AMWD2d_f0EPa49Yp5roY_KQUuZzoOi0q5MAotzPpP_YdYP13x1hi8neJTI6JxqSgpHYnH_J3k39o2grxQcI5bWU3okESRYsEJVmJ2hHRzMZ4WjurqThnwNeDUGrY7fVTUJFheXs4I/s200/IMG_3307.JPG" width="200" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">heavier but we enjoyed the trail’s fast down-grade as we headed south. The faster we went the wetter and muddier we
got. By the time we reached the end of
the trail we were a mess. We found some
large water puddles in the trailhead’s paved parking lot and washed our legs
and then our bikes. We were like two
kids playing in the water.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Cycling on the roads took us from a wooded environment to an
urban one. We stopped for lunch in a
family run Greek restaurant and were treated like part of the family. After lunch we rode into Baltimore, MD, passing
McCormick’s Hunt Valley plant, Pimlico Race Track, and the Timonium Fairgrounds.
We cycled through historic Lutherville and Mt. Washington, and cycled by the
</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFcHFTXNkxszSyScRhuLBLdDNg-rirgg6LHgBWfnV6HsTAe4XiYqXCQXM4LJnGSor-S020vQR525NCRgnonlUxO7b4hRzsoZIukMfdDrr_ypnGBfh7o1YZkuXhnnzJHaxAI9TZkwdP2C0/s1600/IMG_3332.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFcHFTXNkxszSyScRhuLBLdDNg-rirgg6LHgBWfnV6HsTAe4XiYqXCQXM4LJnGSor-S020vQR525NCRgnonlUxO7b4hRzsoZIukMfdDrr_ypnGBfh7o1YZkuXhnnzJHaxAI9TZkwdP2C0/s200/IMG_3332.JPG" width="200" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Baltimore Zoo and the Trolley Museum. We
were on the Jones Falls Trail where we met Chris, a local cyclist. We stopped to chat and he volunteered to be
our tour guide as we headed to our hotel.
Chris, works nights as a surgical nurse and was out riding a vintage
bicycle. Chris shared local lore and
pointed out many sites. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">On our fifth morning we left our Baltimore hotel under the
gloom of dark skies and wondered how soon we would get rain. We </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0tXNkSQSb8Nl1dWTB15xhpjug_cCNj4fItchB4fKH6-N4ihQMpOfDbzkGp5QvulFLa8n79PbeL0r7Rpu2W0zDoepwZOpjk-zljvekT51g0MkMD1qq-2lc2Jy0KerOC2-Ybu3cfiE4bnA/s1600/IMG_0309.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0tXNkSQSb8Nl1dWTB15xhpjug_cCNj4fItchB4fKH6-N4ihQMpOfDbzkGp5QvulFLa8n79PbeL0r7Rpu2W0zDoepwZOpjk-zljvekT51g0MkMD1qq-2lc2Jy0KerOC2-Ybu3cfiE4bnA/s200/IMG_0309.JPG" width="200" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">cycled by the Inner Harbor area on our way
to Fort McHenry, a historical American coastal star-shaped fort. It is best known for its role in the War of
1812, when the Fort successfully defended Baltimore Harbor from an attack by
the British Navy. A large flag was flown
over the fort during the British bombardment.
The sight of this flag inspired Francis Scott Key to write the poem that
was later set to music and become the Star Spangled Banner.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">We had rain for about an hour, but the skies soon cleared as
we got on the Baltimore-Washington International Airport Trail. This trail is 10 miles long and goes from
Lanham to Odenton in Maryland. It runs
on the former right-of-way of the Washington, Baltimore and Annapolis Electric
Railway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Next, we transitioned to the Baltimore and Annapolis Rail
Trail which took us most of the way to Annapolis. The trail is 13 miles long and goes between
Annapolis and Glen Burnie, MD. Just prior to Annapolis, we were greeted by Jon,
the president of the Annapolis & Anne Arundel County Bike Advocates. He filled us in on route options and things to
see. Once in Annapolis, we left our bikes and gear at the Gibson's Lodgings (a
B&B), and took a walking tour of the town.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Annapolis is the capital of Maryland and is situated on the
Chesapeake Bay at the mouth of the Severn River. The city served as the seat of the
Continental Congress in 1783–84. We
walked passed the Maryland State House which is topped by the largest wooden
dome built without nails in the country.
We passed St. John's College (founded in 1789) and the United States
Naval Academy (founded in 1845). At the
harbor we saw the Kunta Kinte-Alex Haley memorial which commemorates the
arrival point of Alex Haley's African ancestor, Kunta Kinte, whose story is told
in Haley's book, “Roots”. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">All week the weather forecasts for our last day’s ride indicated
severe thunderstorms for most of the day.
With this in mind, we spent some time during the evening going over our
options: riding in bad weather, spending an extra day in Annapolis, or renting
a car. The storms hit late that evening
but at 3 a.m. we woke up to the sound of silence. Outside the weather was
nice. At 5 a.m. we checked the weather
forecast and saw that it had changed to just the possibility of storms in the
morning. So we packed our bikes and
headed out. While we cycled around some downed trees and other storm debris, it
turned out to be a beautiful day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We followed the East Coast Greenway route from Annapolis to
Washington, DC. The route meandered over
back roads and trails. More direct routes exist, but this one optimized safety
and off-road trails. As we approached DC,
we cycled on the Metropolitan Branch Trail.
Closer to DC we were treated to a “flyover” of Coast Guard aircraft
celebrating their anniversary. However,
there was little to photograph until we hit Washington’s Mall. From DC, we cycled on George Washington
Parkway Trail passed Washington National Airport where we took the Four Mile
Run Connector Trail. This trail quickly
led us to the final leg of our route on the W&OD trail to Falls Church.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So how many off-road miles did we cycle on the Grand History
trail? Capturing the larger trails and
ignoring the many smaller ones and the asphalt paths paralleling busy roads;
about 40 percent of our tour was off-road (130 miles out of the 321 miles that we
cycled). More detailed information about
out trip can be found in our daily blog (<a href="http://grandhistorytrail2016.blogspot.com/">http://grandhistorytrail2016.blogspot.com/</a>).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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yellowbiketaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03930267735169346620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8612292389702167581.post-46831272924624711762015-07-26T08:22:00.004-04:002015-07-26T08:22:52.118-04:00Lake Ontario Loop<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Photos by Joseph Insalaco<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">What draws us to water? We
have cycled along the Mississippi River, followed Lewis & Clark’s route on
the Missouri and the Columbia Rivers, cycled the Acadian Shores of Maine and
Nova Scotia, and traveled along the Atlantic Ocean and Chesapeake Bay. Little boys cannot resist a water puddle, nor
can we. Our latest adventure took us around the Canadian side of Lake Ontario,
along the St. Lawrence River, and then back around the U.S. side of the Lake.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRUBguvGtVgPF4lkJkEHUldwE89us2HOCcsmpUAEAer4VRlos8AB_Yez-PLMNaB3SFpTtJnLh7fvZEhwDJa1Chle1EMFXswGH2HIGlhHBVhjYCkBzCK9D-_-DxRKC-XUU9ET0tKG7SB14/s1600/IMG_0422.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRUBguvGtVgPF4lkJkEHUldwE89us2HOCcsmpUAEAer4VRlos8AB_Yez-PLMNaB3SFpTtJnLh7fvZEhwDJa1Chle1EMFXswGH2HIGlhHBVhjYCkBzCK9D-_-DxRKC-XUU9ET0tKG7SB14/s1600/IMG_0422.JPG" /></a><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Our cycling journey started mid-afternoon
in Buffalo, New York. Before starting, we met one of our biggest fans; Joe’s 103
year old mother-in-law. With her
blessing, we mounted our bikes and headed to the Peace Bridge, linking the
United States to Canada. In Canada we
planned to follow the “Waterfront Trail” that goes along the Canadian side of
the lake and up the St. Lawrence River.
It is a compilation of well-marked trails, side streets, and highways
and is documented in a paperback book entitled <u>Waterfront Trail and Greenway
Mapbook</u> and on the internet at </span><a href="http://www.waterfronttrail.org/"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">http://www.waterfronttrail.org</span></a><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">After crossing into Canada,
we headed north along the Niagara River.
Since it was getting late, we needed to find a place for dinner. We decided to stop at the first interesting
place we found, and hoped for the best.
It was after 5 p.m. and we passed several places that were not appealing. Then, we saw a bar/restaurant with an
interesting name. It was called “He Is
Not Here”. It had an outdoor patio and a
place for our bikes. The weather was
nice and the patio overlooked the Niagara River; it was very interesting. We asked one of the customers if the
restaurant had patio service, or did we need to go inside to order. She told us to sit down and get comfortable,
and she would take care of us. When she
returned, she asked us lots of questions and made several suggestive
innuendos. Then she introduced us to her
female friends, one of which was the “mellowed out” owner of the bicycle next
to ours. The food was good, the beer
great, and the conversation definitely interesting.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUXhN-A74RRjhZA3koK-i4T4jUPv2agfNXSEHsXIM-PGQfWOa5ps9b8-OVVKCHA4Fxtzf53uFYb8cvgzYem2BzGPzafuphkOHwhyphenhyphenkSRtSXm0mVkSk2qKYXAKYNekaowvNxMYPUTGX_AyM/s1600/IMG_3100.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUXhN-A74RRjhZA3koK-i4T4jUPv2agfNXSEHsXIM-PGQfWOa5ps9b8-OVVKCHA4Fxtzf53uFYb8cvgzYem2BzGPzafuphkOHwhyphenhyphenkSRtSXm0mVkSk2qKYXAKYNekaowvNxMYPUTGX_AyM/s320/IMG_3100.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">The next morning, we continued
along the river heading towards Niagara Falls and breakfast. It took about an hour to reach the waterfalls
and our first opportunity for food.
Watching the morning mist rise off the waterfalls was beautifully. A few other tourists were there, but it was still
peaceful. Our next stop was the Niagara Park’s
Botanical Gardens and Butterfly House. Established in 1936, the nearly 100 acres of
gardens contained perennials, rhododendrons, azaleas, a formal garden, as well
as a rose garden featuring over 2,400 roses. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">We soon entered Ontario’s wine
region, but passed many wineries because they did not open until 11 a.m. Our
first stop was at Reif Estate Winery, which first produced wine in its 1870’s
coach house. After tasting several wines, we found room in our panniers for a
few bottles. We next toured Fort
George. The fort was built in the late
18th century to protect the British from the Americans and was the scene of
several battles during the War of 1812. The fort had been restored and is now a
national historic site. The fort’s exterior consisted of earthworks and
palisades. Its internal structures
included an officer's quarters, blockhouses, and stone powder magazine. Standing on one of the fort’s walls we saw
America’s Fort Niagara across the river in New York. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">We stopped for lunch in
Niagara-on-the-Lake, Ontario, a well-preserved 19th-century village. During the War of 1812 the town was burnt to
the ground by the American troops from Fort Niagara. The town was packed with cyclists and
tourist. We had a tough choice picking a
place for lunch from all the town’s interesting restaurants. In the end, we chose the one with the most
bicycles parked outside. For the rest of the afternoon, we cycled past many
more wineries. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">We got an early start to our
70 mile ride to Toronto, Ontario. About
half an hour down the road we stopped at a Tim Hortons restaurant (similar to
Dunkin Donuts) for breakfast. Unfortunately, we did not find any diners
while in Canada and missed fresh eggs and pancakes. Canada’s breakfast mainstay seemed to be the Tim
Hortons, which are everywhere. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Lakeside temperatures were cool,
but when our route took us a few blocks inland we were warm. No matter what we put on or took off, we
could not find the “right” clothes. The closer we got to Toronto, the more
cyclists we saw. Appropriate gear seemed to be an issue for
them as well. Some cyclists were dressed
for the cooler temperatures but others for warmer weather. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">In Port Credit, Ontario, we
passed through a lake side park where several families were grilling their
lunch. The smells made us hungry and
brought back memories of a similar day when we cycled down the Mississippi
River. At that time, we were very hungry but did not find any place for lunch.
As we passed through a similar community park we came upon a hotdog vendor with
a line of folks waiting for lunch.
Today, we had the same experience when we passed a marina hosting a boat
show and found another busy hotdog vendor. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Arriving in Toronto had several
challenges. First, the city is very
large and it took a long time to cycle through it. Second, there was a lot of road work that
impacted our route and required many detours.
Third, new bike lanes were also being built but were not far enough
along to do us much good. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMBvhUFs62brL7oXYmfwyBlXkg6m2rgjrI6vyBpq-5Ta7VpH9XigHKyUeizczHhl6HBp7yF7NRkmEEBQcNQfXuOa7CoZfXA8MO1YP2IASc4HeZLQh3pbD96FmWISJ9kh-stVIN8UOL7EA/s1600/IMG_3134.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMBvhUFs62brL7oXYmfwyBlXkg6m2rgjrI6vyBpq-5Ta7VpH9XigHKyUeizczHhl6HBp7yF7NRkmEEBQcNQfXuOa7CoZfXA8MO1YP2IASc4HeZLQh3pbD96FmWISJ9kh-stVIN8UOL7EA/s320/IMG_3134.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Leaving Toronto the next
morning, we headed south east along the lake where we found the Guild Park. We cycled through many parks along our route,
but this was the most interesting. The Guild
of All Arts was founded in 1932 on 88 acres.
The Park includes a sculpture garden
featuring works by notable Canadian artists as well as architectural remnants
saved from dozens of Toronto’s heritage buildings demolished in the 1960s and
1970s. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Heading towards Cobourg, Ontario
brought several significant changes in our adventure. First, we moved out of the urban environment
that we had been in since our trip began.
Our rural cycling brought less trails, and some of the trails were very
rough in comparison to the ones in the urban areas. Second, the weather changed from daytime temperatures
in the 80s to the 50s. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYy1gRYR28qYdhQQaYiEpkGgC0rjO7mYvzBlBslOT_Wu0-INe5ItxXzmTEA_UpTpHPLGSIHHNojoA0ZcrBsGefWeQ-oI_fXoHQWSj0-s3Z-GXqk9nmPMU9YX8NpMQNFs48R8gBQyKE9XY/s1600/IMG_3152.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYy1gRYR28qYdhQQaYiEpkGgC0rjO7mYvzBlBslOT_Wu0-INe5ItxXzmTEA_UpTpHPLGSIHHNojoA0ZcrBsGefWeQ-oI_fXoHQWSj0-s3Z-GXqk9nmPMU9YX8NpMQNFs48R8gBQyKE9XY/s320/IMG_3152.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">What hadn’t changed was the
abundance of lilac bushes that were in full bloom. They were everywhere along our route and put
forth a sweet smell that filled the air.
The other constant was the abundance of red-winged black birds. However, these birds continued to be camera
shy and avoided our attempts to get a good picture.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Next, we passed through the
town of Port Hope, Ontario. The town was
named for Colonel Henry Hope, the one-time lieutenant governor of the Province
of Quebec. A more interesting fact is that
the town contains Canada’s largest volume of low-level radioactive wastes.
These wastes resulted from the refining process used to extract radium from
uranium ore. Radium was used in
"glow-in-the-dark" paint. We arrived in Port Hope “aglow” with
thoughts about food. We soon found
Basel’s Deli and stopped for lunch. This
was the first “mom and pop” type restaurant that we found on this journey and was
well worth the wait. We had great
sandwiches, hot tea, and cookies before visiting the Canadian Firefighters
Museum.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzEGPGN8LRyWJMvJ4QrfP-1unDLozE8W_OmRPcYyfgIyCx3BGqmSGIFzhAQJd9gXtn67Z1FDYxnA0witOssnTSuFuCsG8tP4yCn3iGSH_8PVNRVE5cCKH500LmMIwL2hDuKRC3VJQSuVI/s1600/IMG_7142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzEGPGN8LRyWJMvJ4QrfP-1unDLozE8W_OmRPcYyfgIyCx3BGqmSGIFzhAQJd9gXtn67Z1FDYxnA0witOssnTSuFuCsG8tP4yCn3iGSH_8PVNRVE5cCKH500LmMIwL2hDuKRC3VJQSuVI/s320/IMG_7142.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihwdJwKjGvoqygtCeSbjvUanilGV1pwN6EqPJeoLsaUxPbNVIh5zA5crol3mViW4iZOL0f1CWKSHNOEKowKt5mrzTRBhZofPGGZuQW7_BDAb2OwTSkCx3QC-neAZg-Y1YCHvydhyHIhJc/s1600/IMG_3143.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihwdJwKjGvoqygtCeSbjvUanilGV1pwN6EqPJeoLsaUxPbNVIh5zA5crol3mViW4iZOL0f1CWKSHNOEKowKt5mrzTRBhZofPGGZuQW7_BDAb2OwTSkCx3QC-neAZg-Y1YCHvydhyHIhJc/s320/IMG_3143.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">A day later, on the way to Picton,
Ontario, we saw a small sign indicating that a café was off-route at a nearby
marina. The Harbor View Café was open
and the food was good. The owner told us
that she first opened the adjacent motel, then bought the marina, and just
recently opened the café. This was our second interesting lunch stop. We hoped that this trend would continue as we
headed east.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">After lunch we continued
along the lake before heading inland where we passed over the Murray Canal on a
swing bridge. In the early afternoon, we
passed through the Ontario towns of Wellington and Bloomfield, 2 arts
communities. These towns had art
studios, craft shops, galleries and quilt murals painted on many of their
buildings. Signs indicated that we were
on the Arts Trail. Ontario seemed to have “trails” to suit many interests. In addition to the Arts Trail and the Waterfront
Trail, we had also been on the Wine Trail, and after we left Colborne, Ontario,
we were on the Apple Trail. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">We had a short ride to
Glenora, Ontario, where we boarded a ferry for a 15 minute trip across the Bay
of Quinte. From there, we headed into
Loyalist country where those loyal to the British Crown settled. Many towns, structures, and monuments were
designated “Loyalist…” One monument
along the waterfront commemorated the British frigate Royal George’s escape
from the Americans. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">It took about 2 hours to
cycle through Kingston, Ontario, a large city with a population of
120,000. Just past the city, we explored
Fort Henry. The fort is located on an
elevated point near the mouth of the Cataraqui River where it flows into the St.
Lawrence River at the east end of Lake Ontario.
The original fort was constructed during the War of 1812 to protect the
Kingston Royal Naval Dockyard (the site of the present-day Royal Military
College of Canada) from a possible American attack. The original fort was
replaced by a much larger one in the 1830s and was restored in the 1930s. As we entered the fort, a large group of
school children, carrying sleeping bags, were also entering. School groups can get a feel for 1800’s
military life by staying overnight in the fort’s barracks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUh5iAGVaBEkIqnTCi5SrUJeOMxO9IszeiiZ8DloiGYMFwXaQxTvihEmT8fwmlceM6HlkujnAIuqIl3U1dpauF47p0cPFgg_4WgqFmwsBjo7UqSbNboJC6jgXwtW8hMgFi-AHLfJ8KBwk/s1600/IMG_3206.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUh5iAGVaBEkIqnTCi5SrUJeOMxO9IszeiiZ8DloiGYMFwXaQxTvihEmT8fwmlceM6HlkujnAIuqIl3U1dpauF47p0cPFgg_4WgqFmwsBjo7UqSbNboJC6jgXwtW8hMgFi-AHLfJ8KBwk/s320/IMG_3206.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">The rest of our day we cycled
towards our destination of Gananoque, Ontario. The waterfront town Gananoque
has a population of 5,000 year-round residents but a larger number of summer
residents. The town has many fine restaurants
and tourist attractions, such as boat tours through the St. Lawrence River’s
Thousand Islands (yes, thousand islands dressing originated in this area).<b> <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">To get to the United States, we
had a pleasant ride up the Thousand Islands Parkway. As the morning mist lifted off the ponds and
river, we had to cross 2 very long high arched bridges on very narrow
walkways. It was so narrow we had to
walk our bikes but found that we had little room for us and our pannier laden
bikes. We wondered what would happen if
we met anyone coming from the opposite direction. We walked 1.5 miles and it probably took an
hour to do so. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl8iHjPpOt5Dl9IdNHXeF7fa2v6PepC2qwag1lDDQUosHslyNExPLzTWc74NE8OgaUhsMTD-6izmkbOvqjjFfn4zA3taLSyfqmCyqlwdjR1v7kQpmUXuCUrxfGbPPjFF31emiMttYaKq4/s1600/IMG_3207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl8iHjPpOt5Dl9IdNHXeF7fa2v6PepC2qwag1lDDQUosHslyNExPLzTWc74NE8OgaUhsMTD-6izmkbOvqjjFfn4zA3taLSyfqmCyqlwdjR1v7kQpmUXuCUrxfGbPPjFF31emiMttYaKq4/s320/IMG_3207.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><br />
Back in the United States, we headed east to the town of Alexandria Bay, New
York. There, we took a 2 hour boat ride
through the Thousand Islands. The tour
took us past “Millionaire’s Row,” consisting of magnificent homes built during
the gilded age. Some of the boat houses
were more grandiose than even the fanciest houses back home. At the end of our tour we stopped on Heart Island
to tour Boldt Castle. The 120 room castle
was built by George C. Boldt who became wealthy as the proprietor of many
famous hotels, including the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in New York City. He purchased 6 islands and chose Hart (later changed
to Heart) Island to build a castle for his wife, Louise. Louise died before it was completed so George
stopped work and never returned to the island.
From 1904 to 1977 the Castle deteriorated from lack of maintenance and
vandalism. In 1977 the Thousand Island
Bridge Authority took over the property and started its restoration. The finished sections are truly
magnificent. The island also has a
child’s play house (also a castle) that is so large it could provide housing
and recreation for a school house full of children.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">In New York we generally
followed the Seaway Tail (</span><a href="http://www.seawaytrail.com/"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">http://www.seawaytrail.com/</span></a><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">) on our westward journey towards Buffalo, New York. The Great Lakes Seaway Trail is a 518 mile
scenic driving route that follows the shores of Lake Erie, the Niagara River,
Lake Ontario, and the St. Lawrence River in New York and Pennsylvania. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">East of Clayton, New York, we
stopped at a small batch distiller and sampled some of its aged bourbon. In Clayton we visited the Antique Boat
Museum. It is a freshwater nautical
museum that is filled with over 300 unique and beautifully-preserved boats and
thousands of recreational boating artifacts. One of the buildings contained
just speed boats that were massive and powered by very large engines. While impressed with the speed, we preferred
the craftsmanship of the pleasure boats and the museum’s boat restoration
facility. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">We left Clayton looking for a
breakfast place but did not find any until we reached Cape Vincent, New York, a
small town on the St. Lawrence River about 12 miles away. Much of our day’s journey was out of sight of
the water. When possible we took side
routes to the water or entered the several river side parks along the
route. One of our side trips was to the
town of Sackets Harbor, New York. While
we had marked this town as a possible place to visit, neither of us could
remember why, nor did our notes give any hints.
We were pleasantly surprised by what we found. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGr9pO61xf-q3t0SJdd0ZSMsr1yDzthMGPv-VrywX_mpAIgm1FgiU4r9y7XlEp9r-GP85MuYUBhywF6HO_DU0K8jkRhNebc-nuaEu-kqiheI-Ate-POvxAd6OnqR2ZRGmDt8mnycJRXDc/s1600/IMG_7131.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGr9pO61xf-q3t0SJdd0ZSMsr1yDzthMGPv-VrywX_mpAIgm1FgiU4r9y7XlEp9r-GP85MuYUBhywF6HO_DU0K8jkRhNebc-nuaEu-kqiheI-Ate-POvxAd6OnqR2ZRGmDt8mnycJRXDc/s320/IMG_7131.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Sackets Harbor was founded in
1801 by Augustus Sacket, a land speculator from New York City. He hoped that
this location would foster trade across the Lake with Kingston, Ontario. As we
entered the town we saw lots of old brick buildings, some in bad condition,
others restored. At the town’s visitors
center we learned that this was the site of a US Navy shipyard and a headquarters
for the Great Lakes. Some of these buildings pre-dated the War of 1812. The
Army also constructed a fort to defend the village and Navy shipyard. By the
fall of 1814, this was the third-largest population center in the state. Soon
after the War of 1812, the Army strengthened its defenses on the northern
frontier by constructing Madison Barracks—the old buildings we first saw as we
entered the town. The Madison Barracks
have been designated as a Historic District and they are being redeveloped for
commercial and residential use.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">The receptionist at the
visitor’s center also told us that Zebulon Pike was buried in Sackets Harbor
and President Ulysses S. Grant served two tours of duty at Madison
Barracks. We were impressed by the town’s
lively commercial district, and stopped at the Sackets Harbor Brewery for lunch
and a beer. Besides brewing their own beer,
the sandwich rolls and chips were also made on site. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">From Sackets Harbor we only
had a 10 mile ride to Henderson Harbor, New York, for our nights lodging. Our motel was on the grounds of the Aspinwall
Homestead that was built in 1806, and currently serves as the motel’s
office. The Homestead was visited by
Stonewall Jackson and artist Frederick Remington, and was used by runaway
slaves traveling to Canada via the Underground Railroad system.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Unfortunately, our cycling
trip ended in Oswego, New York. From Oswego
we had planned to follow a route along Lake Ontario’s shore to Rochester, New
York, then cycle the Erie Canal back to Buffalo, New York. While we were not
able to cycle all the way, we had a great time. We especially enjoyed the
Canadian side of the lake because our route kept us close to, or on the
waterfront. The New York side provided great cycling on mostly rural country
roads. The terrain on both sides of the
lake was mostly flat. Our daily stories,
pictures, and maps can be viewed on our trip blog (</span><a href="http://lakeontarioloop.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">http://lakeontarioloop.blogspot.com/</span></a><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">).</span></div>
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<o:p></o:p>yellowbiketaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03930267735169346620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8612292389702167581.post-31581343453338084912014-11-18T10:19:00.001-05:002015-07-26T07:53:46.091-04:00Northwest Lancaster County River Trail<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Photos by Dirck
Harris</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbui6bSkhYhY2N5iMyLxLAmxbckajPhVKitokk_RW82GOo0-AMvWysZXiDSTvh4opOSt0ggg_1VBwCO3RZY-KKlxlWYCyKlXRcyXXpXXlAHSaoGgPgZB4JEOw6bDudpeNkv-B1kO9Lnyo/s1600/!cid_C6E3C34D-BC5A-4AFF-BD77-F65F7363BCD4%40home.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbui6bSkhYhY2N5iMyLxLAmxbckajPhVKitokk_RW82GOo0-AMvWysZXiDSTvh4opOSt0ggg_1VBwCO3RZY-KKlxlWYCyKlXRcyXXpXXlAHSaoGgPgZB4JEOw6bDudpeNkv-B1kO9Lnyo/s1600/!cid_C6E3C34D-BC5A-4AFF-BD77-F65F7363BCD4%40home.jpg" width="214" /></a></div>
(Published in SPOKES, Summer 2015)<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> <span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="text-align: center;">My cycling friend Dirck is also a rail fan (a railway
enthusiast that drives miles to experience railroad trains). Rail trails are very popular with him, but he
especially likes rail trails that have active railroads nearby. When he discovered that the Northwest
Lancaster County River Trail ran along a Norfolk Southern rail line, I knew
that we would soon be heading there.
</span><span style="text-align: center;">This trail runs along the Susquehanna River between Columbia and Falmouth,
Pennsylvania.</span><span style="text-align: center;"> </span><span style="text-align: center;">It is a fourteen-mile long,
multi-use, public recreation trail that goes through several interesting river
towns.</span><span style="text-align: center;"> </span><span style="text-align: center;">While the trail is not completely
asphalted, it provided an interesting ride on a warm fall day.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">According to the trails website (http://www.nwrt.info/), “The
trail follows the route of the historic Pennsylvania Mainline Canal and uses
some of the original towpath that remains along the corridor. This provides
ample opportunities to interpret the numerous industrial archaeological remains
such as abandoned canal locks; the iron furnaces at Chickies Rock; and the old
quarry operation at Billmeyer.” While
the whole trail is walkable from Columbia to Falmouth, we found that some
sections are not ready for cyclist. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We drove from Northern Virginia to Marietta, PA and parked
in the Decatur Street trailhead parking lot (one of several trailhead parking
areas along the trail). Since the trail heading up the river was paved, we
chose to first cycle in that direction. One
only needs to look at Google Maps to see that Norfolk Southern has a main line
along the trail and several railroad sidings, creating the potential for seeing
trains. Dirck, was not disappointed. We soon passed a </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-OLos6aHa4HSicPGMUXRNyzGvIiDoNcNI5j4WUaqxvL_BUW3TkY74uzlRLZ8i8lLFT3LTwwLqodacUSWQWipbKEg2AzN23QJKzztIViUpZrW04KPUUFgUy81PguLL5t_nIOexjznjlzc/s1600/DSCF0177.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-OLos6aHa4HSicPGMUXRNyzGvIiDoNcNI5j4WUaqxvL_BUW3TkY74uzlRLZ8i8lLFT3LTwwLqodacUSWQWipbKEg2AzN23QJKzztIViUpZrW04KPUUFgUy81PguLL5t_nIOexjznjlzc/s1600/DSCF0177.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">freight train waiting at a
signal. While I was focusing on the surrounding scenery, Dirck was checking out
the train’s engines. Leaving the trackside (for only a short period), the trail
took us along the river and by several farm fields that had recently been
harvested. We soon arrived at Riverfront
Park. We were told that the park is not
only at the center of the trail but it is also a great meeting place for trail
users, boaters, and picnickers. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbOjdfTgZoLXf54dEbBdBj3v1flIhUz8A9zBPrTEYbfeYu8s-fdvRSP4ss9wsR63xKRdWigGA9Y3SmHed4KCKfFth9y_o1uyf4NAP2UHBHucOPLhQEvBIOBErHLQgdFagR-fzFBEBkQeo/s1600/!cid_875C58B5-1CFD-4F6F-8EDE-D059783B3366%40home.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbOjdfTgZoLXf54dEbBdBj3v1flIhUz8A9zBPrTEYbfeYu8s-fdvRSP4ss9wsR63xKRdWigGA9Y3SmHed4KCKfFth9y_o1uyf4NAP2UHBHucOPLhQEvBIOBErHLQgdFagR-fzFBEBkQeo/s1600/!cid_875C58B5-1CFD-4F6F-8EDE-D059783B3366%40home.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Just past Riverfront Park we cycled under the Shocks Mill
Bridge. This bridge carries railroad trains
across the Susquehanna River and had to be rebuilt after Hurricane Agnes
destroyed a large section in 1972. At
this point, the trail deteriorated from its nice asphalt to rough gravel. Our bikes bounced and rattled as we cycled
over this section. However, near the
town of Bainbridge, (thankfully) the bouncing and rattling stopped. There the
trail returned to a wonderful paved surface.
Bainbridge is a quaint river town. It has a restaurant just off the
trail and easy access to the river’s edge.
The town also boasts a popular vineyard with summer entertainment. Just a few miles away is the famous Three
Mile Island electric power plant, site of the near nuclear meltdown in 1979. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs6qhliCEV-KgG_5P0nQQmHzCO3RdoNoTfGLq0GVsN_DLMAclKE2gAnSfda3X21MFM_dbSLlm0mNaLhjH-QeWEgThGybSKiI33gv9pCNkmtFrGaNtmLus8HCWbrQAJdKplZvGlDOp8R9c/s1600/DSCF0169.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs6qhliCEV-KgG_5P0nQQmHzCO3RdoNoTfGLq0GVsN_DLMAclKE2gAnSfda3X21MFM_dbSLlm0mNaLhjH-QeWEgThGybSKiI33gv9pCNkmtFrGaNtmLus8HCWbrQAJdKplZvGlDOp8R9c/s1600/DSCF0169.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsfL11bAyNUMBUd8XqghE7ytBzR6E7q0d3M-TNpKB8brWcBK4xzSP-SwStncjT0WKBrUs1GZitibrsUlW8pRW_JkKUl-10sn1I8VfgudhyphenhyphenvFHrc3TpzORuelVhXsDHo67JpYB4prgODw4/s1600/DSCF0168.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsfL11bAyNUMBUd8XqghE7ytBzR6E7q0d3M-TNpKB8brWcBK4xzSP-SwStncjT0WKBrUs1GZitibrsUlW8pRW_JkKUl-10sn1I8VfgudhyphenhyphenvFHrc3TpzORuelVhXsDHo67JpYB4prgODw4/s1600/DSCF0168.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Leaving Bainbridge we set out on the canal’s embankment. Still clearly visible, the canal was built in
the late 1700s to bypass the Conewago Falls on the Susquehanna River. This section of the trail is nearly 4 miles long
and ends in <br />
Falmouth, PA, another river town.
However, the trail is now only designated as a walking trail. Our ride on this section was cut short after
we stopped to talk to a mountain biker.
He was walking towards us pushing his full-suspension 29er bicycle. He said that the trail was too rough for him
and that he had to walk most of the way.
Since we were on road bikes, we decided to turn around. Cycling this section of the trail would have
to wait for another day. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We retraced our route back to the town of Marietta, stopping
only so Dirck could look at more railroad trains, check out some of the old
railroad artifacts still visible along the way, and talk to other trail users. As it was getting warmer trail usage
increased. Many of the users were from
surrounding towns but, like us, several had driven miles to explore the River
Trail.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Upon arriving back at the Marietta trailhead, we decided to
cycle through the town rather than take the hiking trail that ran parallel
along the river. We were heading
southeast toward the trails other end at Columbia, PA. Marietta is an interesting and historic
town. It dates back to the early 1700. Many old homes have been restored and the river
town continues it rich railroad history.
While a small town, it has several interesting pubs and restaurants. Based on recommendations from a few town
folks we stopped at McCleary’s Irish Pub for lunch. Their draft beer choices were extensive and
the food was excellent.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">At the other end of town, we got back on the trail at
Chickes Rock Park. The entrance to the
park still has remnants of the old iron furnaces and rolling mills that used to
be a major part of the town’s economy. Initially
the trail took us on park roads. Once
the road ended, we cycled on a packed earth and mulch trail that meandered
through a wooded area for several miles.
About mid-point between Marietta and Columbia we came to a large cliff
of quartzite rock that a young man and woman we descending. While they had on the proper safety equipment
and ropes, it still looked scary. I
would rather exercise on a bicycle than hang from a rope off a cliff. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">About a mile from Columbia, we had to get off our bikes and
lift them over a large fallen tree that seemed to have been there for some time. Nearer to Columbia the trail abruptly </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3AD64u7xttGaOnz6f5Ld60St9xDdi4l9ylfSjxhfacIay7c-OiksWm_VQJdVLGWjsLjQWWsaoOKYYg6OF7GdIcG1ADyml6R5N5wqz6flk_Nv48_ef69eJ98gxOOwZuglu5qi3nEzZKW4/s1600/DSCF0188.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3AD64u7xttGaOnz6f5Ld60St9xDdi4l9ylfSjxhfacIay7c-OiksWm_VQJdVLGWjsLjQWWsaoOKYYg6OF7GdIcG1ADyml6R5N5wqz6flk_Nv48_ef69eJ98gxOOwZuglu5qi3nEzZKW4/s1600/DSCF0188.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">stopped
just before a tunnel that led into town.
It appears that the railroad has not yet given over this last section of
right-of-way for the trail. We were
disappointed that we could not cycle through the tunnel and visit Columbia from
the trail. Reversing our direction, we
stopped below the Breezyview Overlook, far above the trail. Getting to the overlook required a long climb
up the side of the mountain on a switch-back trail. However, we decided to get there by riding the
long way around using the roads.
Regardless of how you get there, the panorama of the Susquehanna River is
worth the effort. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We eventually got to Columbia which is the largest of the area’s
river towns. It has more than 10,000
residents with a historic district listed on the National Register of Historic
Places…and more trains. Eventually, the trail will end here, at the town’s riverfront
park. This nice park has a great view of
the river and some remaining Civil War era bridge piers. Other great Columbia
attractions include the National Watch and Clock Museum, featuring a collection
of over 12,000 time pieces, the Columbia Historic Market House, and the First
National Bank Museum.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">After loading our bikes on top of the car, we headed back to
Northern Virginia. Since Dirck was
driving, our route took us by railroad sites in the Pennsylvania towns of York
and Hanover, and the Maryland towns of Walkersville and Brunswick. While Dirck was enjoying the trains in these
towns, I was fantasizing about how those railroad right-of-ways would make
great rail trails. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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yellowbiketaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03930267735169346620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8612292389702167581.post-57536754706223532922014-10-09T07:44:00.002-04:002015-03-10T06:56:51.425-04:00Greenbrier River Trail<span style="background-color: #f6f6f6; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px;">(Published in SPOKES, Spring 2015)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXK-ThPEMZsijGWX4U01ak-lw5KMY4q4ImjFvk9gW5UNNkLPV3D4iWzIFaR4YtjbfpO9adOLX5xESh9nWlF-u-xAHnbJ7wrcr3efdbzJRTKcP4DCx5QbOOjAMbzvmShhrPKsRINmNgDJE/s1600/DSCF0098.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXK-ThPEMZsijGWX4U01ak-lw5KMY4q4ImjFvk9gW5UNNkLPV3D4iWzIFaR4YtjbfpO9adOLX5xESh9nWlF-u-xAHnbJ7wrcr3efdbzJRTKcP4DCx5QbOOjAMbzvmShhrPKsRINmNgDJE/s1600/DSCF0098.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In late September, wanting a long ride before the weather
turned cold, I headed to West Virginia’s Greenbrier River Trail (GRT). I have always found driving in West Virginia
to be challenging, but it is always worth the climbs and twisting roads. This trip was no different.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuXuYv2ijrLOuXJ88xHATyBiGZvoCKnvUzZ-Bg4k5aQfA9660lFol9Uxc5ifw99CDEAeqGqRkx-tanlso428S6VUJNSCp-V9B21GRT700qQlU7fR_2Hfg1DTV8NYd31vX0HnKXaCKxA9U/s1600/DSCF0069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuXuYv2ijrLOuXJ88xHATyBiGZvoCKnvUzZ-Bg4k5aQfA9660lFol9Uxc5ifw99CDEAeqGqRkx-tanlso428S6VUJNSCp-V9B21GRT700qQlU7fR_2Hfg1DTV8NYd31vX0HnKXaCKxA9U/s1600/DSCF0069.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The GRT is part of the State’s park system
and runs 80 miles between towns of Cass and Lewisburg, West Virginia. For all practical purposes, this is a flat
trail with just over 700 feet of elevation change from end-to-end. During my ride, I wondered why my drive
involved so much climbing to get to such a flat trail. The trail’s surface is mostly packed gravel
and provides relatively easy cycling.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlg5cmSZfbL1V8IEbjBE5PqyDOYlfDcf8N8iBbwISEvthIUxrmoUjv0aqjNWYPJ-JnFVGu9m2qoVIvgKZU6yW8aGl75mGLWCdg1Nxt9Hb1oir1D1WOhTN1SlbP3q1alIzpP6tAQMAVx08/s1600/DSCF0070.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlg5cmSZfbL1V8IEbjBE5PqyDOYlfDcf8N8iBbwISEvthIUxrmoUjv0aqjNWYPJ-JnFVGu9m2qoVIvgKZU6yW8aGl75mGLWCdg1Nxt9Hb1oir1D1WOhTN1SlbP3q1alIzpP6tAQMAVx08/s1600/DSCF0070.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></span></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikfK6ekSxMfZJy6T6-OFtU46yXM87xbnjq35t5HRXbiLU_pUWaPfWV13hIq81mh5UgU0cNoqS8GXY-Xp9VjJR9uR6FjrO2kw47t6lcPTzh1mOMac0nfVwEhPpKNCETOwbWlUqvmGWsoEA/s1600/DSCF0075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikfK6ekSxMfZJy6T6-OFtU46yXM87xbnjq35t5HRXbiLU_pUWaPfWV13hIq81mh5UgU0cNoqS8GXY-Xp9VjJR9uR6FjrO2kw47t6lcPTzh1mOMac0nfVwEhPpKNCETOwbWlUqvmGWsoEA/s1600/DSCF0075.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I left my car in Lewisburg and used a shuttle service offered
by Free Spirit Adventures (<a href="http://www.freespiritadventures.com/">www.freespiritadventures.com</a>)
to take me to Cass to start my ride south.
While several shuttle services are available, Free Spirit seemed to best
accommodate my needs and schedule. In
addition to the trail head, the town of Cass is also home to the Cass Scenic
Railroad State Park. Here you can
embrace the town’s logging history by riding a steam driven logging train up
into the mountains. Cycling out of Cass
to the trail head (about ½ mile) I passed the many “company houses” that have
been restored and are available for rent.
In contrast to historic Cass, just a few miles away is the Green Bank
Science Center that houses the National Radio Astronomy Observatory. Taking in both sites, allows one to go from train
travel to space exploration with just a few miles of additional cycling. </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I started cycling early in the morning with a definite fall
chill in the air (it was only 39 degrees F) and with low hanging fog hiding
much of my surroundings. I anticipated
cooler temperatures and brought along my panniers to carry the clothing that I
knew I would shed along the way. As the
fog lifted, I realized that my visit on the GRT was premature to enjoy the fall’s
changing colors. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: center;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: center;">One reason that this trail appealed to me was its extensive integration
into nature.This is in direct </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">contrast to the urban trials, where I do a good deal of my cycling. Trail literature
promotes the area’s remoteness: it “…lies adjacent to the Monongahela National
Forest, Seneca State Forest and Watoga State Park for most of its length…” I
was not disappointed.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXC14QJKpd8lMPyXFWVW2Bg9keiNseU9DEczvPUnsM4KBhi0c5MXYmieUkxVJLfrMmtAvYPITPxmFlpC4OSeNTurGivdtIs1sTwawlPU85E9x6qYKou9gm2z6NV9Gk4lPQfGb_I3rQJn8/s1600/DSCF0085.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXC14QJKpd8lMPyXFWVW2Bg9keiNseU9DEczvPUnsM4KBhi0c5MXYmieUkxVJLfrMmtAvYPITPxmFlpC4OSeNTurGivdtIs1sTwawlPU85E9x6qYKou9gm2z6NV9Gk4lPQfGb_I3rQJn8/s1600/DSCF0085.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In the first 20
miles I only shared the trail with deer, lots of deer, a few ground hogs, and a
bald eagle. The only disappointment was
the lack of water in the Greenbrier River.
In many places the water was so low I could have walked across the river,
without getting my ankles wet. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvEc_iEfofgV9JYL7ST9GfTVk7MSRGfi2F_d5Xug-5LgAcGzVRdAkf3GAHZzagVfSCB8reNNrF1CCwKHjBJp4SsnGUhPXA314iy8TyqzOXZVy3jg9Y8wEMZZZroOffynW75mBAu_fFf4A/s1600/DSCF0106.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvEc_iEfofgV9JYL7ST9GfTVk7MSRGfi2F_d5Xug-5LgAcGzVRdAkf3GAHZzagVfSCB8reNNrF1CCwKHjBJp4SsnGUhPXA314iy8TyqzOXZVy3jg9Y8wEMZZZroOffynW75mBAu_fFf4A/s1600/DSCF0106.JPG" height="200" width="150" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">About 15 miles from Cass, I encountered the first of the
trail’s 2 tunnels—Sharp’s Tunnel. This
tunnel dates to 1900 and is just over 500 feet long. The tunnel curved, blocking my view of the
other end. However, it only took a few
minutes to let my eyes adjust and I was soon out the other side where I
immediately crossed the river on a bridge.
While this was a typical wooden trail bridge</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">, some of the railroad’s
steel trestle bridges are still used on the trail. I was now 10 miles from Marlinton, West
Virginia. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I soon encountered the first, of the few other trail users I
saw. This man was on a 2 week cycling
vacation, stopping at all the rail trails between his home in Alabama and
Washington, D.C. Heading north east
allowed him to cycle 2 of Virginia’s great trails—the Virginia Creeper and the
New River Trail. Before going our
separate ways, he was kind enough to take my picture cycling on the trail. </span></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6SbxssZYDXxcYo6fK5Inz1QyMRciiaexP-Q79R-H8XizTGZIOz4ygbRaRiy-tJWfNph1kYqyeR7dMtxVu8qImwGRA78tQvcisu5_cpNAXZmuLg2t4SjeJJOd9KRj84hoy6-1jpDQI0OE/s1600/DSCF0076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6SbxssZYDXxcYo6fK5Inz1QyMRciiaexP-Q79R-H8XizTGZIOz4ygbRaRiy-tJWfNph1kYqyeR7dMtxVu8qImwGRA78tQvcisu5_cpNAXZmuLg2t4SjeJJOd9KRj84hoy6-1jpDQI0OE/s1600/DSCF0076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6SbxssZYDXxcYo6fK5Inz1QyMRciiaexP-Q79R-H8XizTGZIOz4ygbRaRiy-tJWfNph1kYqyeR7dMtxVu8qImwGRA78tQvcisu5_cpNAXZmuLg2t4SjeJJOd9KRj84hoy6-1jpDQI0OE/s1600/DSCF0076.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Marlinton is the only “town” on the trail. In Marlinton I saw the last remaining railroad
water tank <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">on the GRT. It was erected in
1932 for the Chesapeake & Ohio (C&O) railroad and has been restored.
The town’s 1901 depot is also being restored after being damaged by a fire
several years ago. The railroad came
into being to carry logs down river in the early 1900s. After seeing how low the river was, I
understood why the logging companies gave up floating their harvest downstream.
Rail passenger service continued until
the late 1950s and the C&O’s freight service was terminated in the late
1970s. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I reached Marlinton at lunch time and asked several folks
for recommendations on where to eat. I
prefer local business that let you experience the town’s charms. The response was unanimous, and I headed to
Rayetta’s Lunchbox. This was a real
find. It was full of folks that Rayetta addressed
by name. When it was my time to order, I
naively asked for a menu and was told that there was none. Rayetta served only 3 things, hot dogs,
nachos, and a daily special, which I purchased—tomato bisque soup and a grilled
cheese sandwich. When finished, I spotted some chocolate marble cupcakes with a
fluffy caramel icing. The cupcake tasted
as good as it looked but it cost as nearly as much as my soup and sandwich. However, it was well worth the price and I
know that I would burn the added calories as I headed south. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">While most of the trail is crushed gravel, the trail through
Marlinton is asphalt. The paved section
provided smoother and faster cycling, but it took away from the rest of the
trail’s natural setting. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Before leaving town, I peeled off another layer of
clothing. I was beginning to relate to
an onion. Heading south, I took note of
the many trail-side camp sites. I
believe that there were more than a dozen such sites. Most locations had packed
gravel tent pads, a picnic table, and pit toilets. Some also had water pumps and Adirondacks (a
3-sided wooden building) where several people could sleep. In addition to on-trail accommodations the
trail guide identifies many off-trail lodgings.
These included motels, bed and breakfasts, cabins, and campgrounds. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Pearl Buck’s birthplace can been seen in the town of Hillsboro
(just a short ride off the trail). She
is best known for her novel “<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Good_Earth" title="The Good Earth"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">The Good
Earth</span></a>” which won the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pulitzer_Prize_for_the_Novel" title="Pulitzer Prize for the Novel"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Pulitzer Prize</span></a> in 1932 and the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nobel_Prize_in_Literature" title="Nobel Prize in Literature"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Nobel Prize for Literature</span></a> in
1938. Her home is only 2.5 miles off the
trail and only about 200 feet of climbing.
It was an interesting side trip.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggDMbAqjORfWtqfHe8YGhn5gy5u3gCZj53zLAnUt1E0eLhfz4M5462-FCn4fL_OBJysdK9nqa_FvgORkeQNV_OcFWrNcUKNRhTBeWrT6iobO7wpIrRka_Z4TO0lrck1XyMe0mme_4o-KA/s1600/DSCF0110.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggDMbAqjORfWtqfHe8YGhn5gy5u3gCZj53zLAnUt1E0eLhfz4M5462-FCn4fL_OBJysdK9nqa_FvgORkeQNV_OcFWrNcUKNRhTBeWrT6iobO7wpIrRka_Z4TO0lrck1XyMe0mme_4o-KA/s1600/DSCF0110.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggDMbAqjORfWtqfHe8YGhn5gy5u3gCZj53zLAnUt1E0eLhfz4M5462-FCn4fL_OBJysdK9nqa_FvgORkeQNV_OcFWrNcUKNRhTBeWrT6iobO7wpIrRka_Z4TO0lrck1XyMe0mme_4o-KA/s1600/DSCF0110.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">About 50 miles into my journey I came upon the trail’s
second tunnel. The Droop Mountain Tunnel </span></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggDMbAqjORfWtqfHe8YGhn5gy5u3gCZj53zLAnUt1E0eLhfz4M5462-FCn4fL_OBJysdK9nqa_FvgORkeQNV_OcFWrNcUKNRhTBeWrT6iobO7wpIrRka_Z4TO0lrck1XyMe0mme_4o-KA/s1600/DSCF0110.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">is only 400 feet long. At the tunnel
entrance I head voice coming from the tunnel and decided to wait to see who
would emerge. In a few minutes 3 women
riding horses came out. I am glad I
waited; I don’t know how I would have made out in the dark with 3 horses coming
at me head-on. The women stopped to talk
and asked me to take some pictures for them. This was the first time one of the
women was able to get her horse to go through the tunnel and she wanted it
documented. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Like the first tunnel, this
one also curved and required waiting for my eyes to adjust to the low light
before going through.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Other than Marlinton, the trail provides mostly wilderness
cycling. However, there are some
sections along the way where cabins can be seen on the river bank. Other than these cabins and a correctional
facility that abuts the trail near mile post 39, I was just “one with nature”. The lack of cell phone service also helped
keep me focused on the joys of my solitary time away from my normal urban life.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Approaching the trails end, I started to encounter other
trail users, mostly cyclists and dog walkers.
I am usually the “slow rider” and I am usually passed where ever I cycle. However, this is the first ride that no one
passed me and I went 80 miles. While I
would like to think that I was faster than other trail users, in reality the
trail was just not busy at this time of the year. I ended my solitary sojourn with a beer and
dinner in a crowded Lewisburg restaurant.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Photos
by Joseph Insalaco</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">(Published in SPOKES, Fall 2014)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Several years ago I had a great cycling trip in Virginia’s
northern neck region (east of Fredericksburg, Virginia) and longed to again
enjoy its charms. A friend suggested
that I consider going even further east and cycle the Virginia’s Eastern Shore
region. He even offered a regional guide by Kirk Mariner entitled <u>Off 13:
The Eastern Shore of Virginia Guidebook</u>. U.S. Route 13 is a four lane
highway that runs down the center of the Eastern Shore. Mariner’s book focuses on the historical homes,
churches, buildings, and scenic waterways that can be viewed from country roads
found on the bayside and seaside of Route 13. Once the idea took hold, I
contacted my long time cycling friend Joe, and we soon found ourselves heading
southeast on our bicycles from my Northern Virginia home. Our route took us along the Potomac River into
Virginia's Northern Neck. From there we crossed the Chesapeake Bay and spent
a week touring Virginia's Eastern Shore.
Finally, we crossed the bay to the Maryland side of the Potomac River for
our trip back to Northern Virginia.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGP18_PNVOu4NwLzEJOKPhsSqEwk4NGiMR-uf6FJpmu-jtrDS_u0YhgC-D4YRyQ-es2qwyfUE5Jvdg4e6tRTZAy_AoGz1cXMk4VFic6jZkVOUpHEA_V61OlLrmWpZOOpcXKWe3Y7fInJ0/s1600/image+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGP18_PNVOu4NwLzEJOKPhsSqEwk4NGiMR-uf6FJpmu-jtrDS_u0YhgC-D4YRyQ-es2qwyfUE5Jvdg4e6tRTZAy_AoGz1cXMk4VFic6jZkVOUpHEA_V61OlLrmWpZOOpcXKWe3Y7fInJ0/s1600/image+(1).jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Leaving
Northern Virginia on a mix of roads and trails, we cycled first to historic Occoquan,
Virginia. From there we followed
Adventure Cycling’s East Coast route to Fredericksburg, Virginia. While it was a long day of 83 miles, we had
great weather. Along the way we met 3 cyclists from Kansas also heading
into the Northern Neck and a couple from San Francisco who were cycling to New
York City. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUp5CQNjTF9nblLsXsKOV3uFTeBYcBxYRjyn4fcHdUOnl457VYLVk1w8iU6ZImmbBgBfs3Ovx2qaCSZbB1pm_dpr8A3A8QMhrg09PtYnUeFIXmKZtN_JOCnyxHgoy-uXgnivmL0OaB_tc/s1600/IMG_6523.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUp5CQNjTF9nblLsXsKOV3uFTeBYcBxYRjyn4fcHdUOnl457VYLVk1w8iU6ZImmbBgBfs3Ovx2qaCSZbB1pm_dpr8A3A8QMhrg09PtYnUeFIXmKZtN_JOCnyxHgoy-uXgnivmL0OaB_tc/s1600/IMG_6523.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></span></a><span style="font-size: large;">Fredericksburg
dates back to the early 1700 and offered many tourist options. Within 3 miles
of our downtown hotel we saw<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Kenmore<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Hall (home of George Washington’s
sister), Mary<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Washington<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>College, a large farmers market and
art festival in a city park, an antique car show in the historic district, and George
Washington’s childhood home called Ferry Farms. While the Ferry Farm’s
“home” is not much more than a foundation and an archaeological digging site,
the farm has been recreated. Our tour of
the farm was self-guided using an IPad that provided detailed information on
each point of interest.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Leaving Fredericksburg,
we followed Adventure Cycling’s Potomac Heritage Route that took us east. Our next stop was at George Washington’s birthplace.
Unfortunately, none of the original structures remain on this property, but the
foundation of the original home had been unearthed. According to our docent, the house on the
property is relatively new and is only a replica of a grandiose colonial
home. From the foundation’s footprint, George’s birth home was much
smaller and simpler. However, the nearby
Stratford Hall, Robert E. Lee’s birthplace, was built in the 1730s and is quite
grand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Cycling
on country roads often lets an ill prepared cyclist go hungry. That was
us about 1:30 in the afternoon. We were famished and quickly approaching Route
301, the major north-south highway through the Northern Neck region. We hoped we would find at least a fast food
restaurant near the intersection. When we got to Route 301, however, we did
not see any place to eat, just two new car dealerships. Since we needed
water, we went into the Dodge dealership. We were directed to a water fountain where we also
found some vending machines, which supplied our lunch. We felt like poor relatives as we ate
crackers while looking at a $150,000 Dodge Viper sitting on the showroom floor. The day’s weather was a little warm, but the ride
was still good. We cycled 54 miles, about half of the time on the
highways and the other on country roads, as we continued east to Montrose,
Virginia. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">On our cycling
trips, we are often blessed with small gems that just make a day
wonderful. Last night, when checking into our motel, the clerk told us
that the only two options for breakfast were either going back 2 miles into
downtown Montrose, or 13 miles east. The
western option was for a local coffee shop that did not open until 8 a.m. The
eastern option would take us off our planned country road route and to a fast-food
restaurant. Neither option was appealing because we like early starts and
country roads. The next morning, looking out of our motel room, we
noticed that the gas station/Subway restaurant across the highway was
open. Unfortunately, the Subway part of the business did not open until<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>9 a.m. However, a nice woman
told us to “walk 1 block west and go to Johnny Wilkinson’s store, because he
makes breakfast sandwiches.” Johnny not only made us a great breakfast,
but also sandwiches to go. Never did a processed ham and cheese sandwich
ever taste so good when we stopped for lunch.
It surely beat yesterday’s lunch out of a vending machine. We had no
idea why the motel clerk did not offer this option to us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Since our
planned ride to Reedville, Virginia, was relatively short, we decided to go 5
miles off route and visit the Athena Winery. There Ruth, one of the
owners, told us that they have been growing grapes for 13 years. She admitted
that it took a while for them to produce good wine. We sampled each of
their wines and purchased a bottle for later.
While at the winery we found 2
entertaining Killdeer birds. They built their nest in the gravel right
next to the parking lot. When we got close, the bird on the nest would spread
her trail feathers and the other would hop away and lie on its back and flap
its wings as if it were injured. Ruth told us that these birds have been
building their nest in the same spot for years and entertaining her guests.
You would think that they would move away from all the commotion of the parking
lot, but I guess they just like to people watch.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">In
Reedville, we stayed at the Grandview B&B that was just a few miles from
where we would meet our boat the next morning.
The B&B’s name is well deserved with its view of the bay. In the “it’s a small world,” our hostess grew
up in<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Falls Church<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>several houses away from the home where
I live. The Grandview’s hospitality was
wonderful and worthy of another visit.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR5K_cZAdNty6gCXm5z824yqTqHJZnhlNXlvSP78cSjTqQ8GbO7p9CObwS3ONKdQi2jjO90pH-5JtePcs6_NmG30z0di3q0SaJSwONkhxZ7FMmM0ZaI3isN22p-UTbPpATbiCtY9zZ8Ck/s1600/IMG_6576-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR5K_cZAdNty6gCXm5z824yqTqHJZnhlNXlvSP78cSjTqQ8GbO7p9CObwS3ONKdQi2jjO90pH-5JtePcs6_NmG30z0di3q0SaJSwONkhxZ7FMmM0ZaI3isN22p-UTbPpATbiCtY9zZ8Ck/s1600/IMG_6576-001.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">We had a
short bike ride from our B&B to where our chartered boat picked us up for
the ride to the Eastern Shore. The boat,
Joyce Marie II, is a 36 feet long fiberglass boat with a 4 foot draft.
According to our <span style="color: #252525;"> characterized by a sharp bow that quickly becomes a flat
V shape moving aft along the bottom of the hull. It has a small cabin structure and a large
open work area aft.</span> It is the traditional boat
used by watermen for everything from crabbing and oystering,<span style="color: #252525;"> to catching fish.
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">captain, Mark Crockett, the boat was built in the traditional
Chesapeake Bay deadrise style. A deadrise style boat is</span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFVCvea8FoNbOjNo0PNrTdhwZGExzgFTAiF6OyLfw0mmxTTToJaCBdhyqABsdohvNNAQP63a7x7suOvgJN8CyN7s1TxSpfN1IO9MfcYfrfktoMPdtLfyGixvZhD0tnlBm1RO1T3VCDoxk/s1600/IMG_6601.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFVCvea8FoNbOjNo0PNrTdhwZGExzgFTAiF6OyLfw0mmxTTToJaCBdhyqABsdohvNNAQP63a7x7suOvgJN8CyN7s1TxSpfN1IO9MfcYfrfktoMPdtLfyGixvZhD0tnlBm1RO1T3VCDoxk/s1600/IMG_6601.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">The Bay
was very choppy and our ride was rough so we appreciated a several hour layover
on<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Tangier<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Island. Not only did it give us
a chance to regain our land legs, it also allowed us to tour the island. The English settlement dates back to the
1600s, but Native Americans occupied the island long before. The island currently supports about 450 people
and its economy is based on tourism, crabs, and oysters. Mark lives on the island and operates a
passenger ferry service between the island and town of Onancock, on Virginia’s Eastern
Shore. He was born on the island and
has lived there all his 55 years. He told us that he is a fifth
generation Crockett on the island.
Looking at how low the land was in relation to the water level, I wonder
just how long the island will survive. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">We
arrived on the Eastern Shore in the early afternoon and cycled to our motel in
nearby Onley, Virginia. After dropping off
our panniers, we toured Onancock and some of the surrounding country side. With views of the old homes and waterways, our
short ride was a precursor of what was to come. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Virginia’s
Eastern Shore is about 70 miles long and 10 miles wide. Cycling it is flat and easy, with the high
point being about 60 feet above sea level. We started our tour by heading
south on the bayside of the Eastern Shore. Much of Virginia’s Eastern Shore
is very rural with farms, plant nurseries, fishing villages, and small towns. We
varied our route to include trips to the water’s edge and through the small
</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjla9t_SB91FQ8u0yEunKYqrOi_b7aMOna2OuR6vJ2zZeYksemaGD1zvLHe72XvbkojFoG-_5LVreJGf3ISFaArMWi2EjyTsjG3KV8lByXcnl7ylhL1xJP4w2U9z8SdeNVTN582PLwK_6Y/s1600/IMG_6518.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjla9t_SB91FQ8u0yEunKYqrOi_b7aMOna2OuR6vJ2zZeYksemaGD1zvLHe72XvbkojFoG-_5LVreJGf3ISFaArMWi2EjyTsjG3KV8lByXcnl7ylhL1xJP4w2U9z8SdeNVTN582PLwK_6Y/s1600/IMG_6518.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">communities. While many of the old
houses and churches we saw were interesting, we were not sure why some were
included and others excluded from our guidebook. Somewhat disappointing were
the houses and churches that were covered in aluminum siding. I
understand the necessity for preservation and reduced maintenance, but the
structures lost much of their appeal with the addition of modern siding.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Our end
point for the first day was the Holiday Inn Express, in Exmore, Virginia. Following Route 13, Exmore is only 13 miles away. However, our trip on the bayside roads was 52
miles long. This was typical of our “off
13” mileage. If we wanted to get
somewhere fast, Route 13 would have been the way. However, fast was not our goal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The next
day we continued south down the bayside to Machipongo, Virginia where the bayside
route ended. From there we looped south
on the seaside to Oyster, Virginia.
Oyster is a fishing village on seaside, but it is not on the ocean. With the barrier islands, the ocean is not
easily accessible on Virginia’s Eastern Shore. After spending some time watching the
fishermen we headed back to Exmore. We
cycled 60 miles and ended up back at the same Exmore motel.</span> <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimwa9nRu2Uc2KIi-I_OisgYOVlFAwiVjdU_EWGqa4NbdemBmM63pRwQ7KJ8bJvSu3euyzgnNZMmOtGVw4b2hQ7nV8ZisOWqSMosCHraUDJfMFj5r6GvdEdZGhy0KSLC-hZfSS61aIBCyE/s1600/IMG_3029-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimwa9nRu2Uc2KIi-I_OisgYOVlFAwiVjdU_EWGqa4NbdemBmM63pRwQ7KJ8bJvSu3euyzgnNZMmOtGVw4b2hQ7nV8ZisOWqSMosCHraUDJfMFj5r6GvdEdZGhy0KSLC-hZfSS61aIBCyE/s1600/IMG_3029-001.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">The
following morning started with “pea soup thick” fog that definitely impacted the
quantity and quality of our photographs. However, we found a few
interesting things. The first was
supposed to have been miles away on yesterday’s route. However, we found
the Cobb Railway Station in downtown Exmore. The station had been recently
moved and was undergoing renovations. Nearby, we also saw an Eastern
Shore Railroad caboose, the only remains of that railroad we found.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">As the
fog lifted we entered the town of Accomac, Virginia There we saw hundreds of
old homes, some of which dated back to the early 1700s. According to our
guidebook, Accomac is so historic that almost the whole town is included as a
historic district. The town dates back to the 1600’s when it was chosen for the
county seat. Near noon we arrived in the
town of Atlantic, Virginia, one of the few “off 13” towns that had a
restaurant. The town was also home to
Marshall Manufacturing Company, one of the few places on the Chesapeake Bay
that makes wire-mesh crab pots.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Later in
the day we stopped at NASA’s<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Wallops<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Island<span class="apple-converted-space">. </span>Wallops Flight Facility was established in
1945 as a center for aeronautic research.
We had timed our Eastern Shore visit to witness a rocket launch, but it
was delayed beyond our stay. We spent an
hour touring its visitor’s center but were not sure if we stayed so long
because the exhibits were that interesting, or if the air conditioning was just
so nice. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJt3d8uJCWhYP2wGdPaBRI_aHInCCsABmnwT_25lMIkGpgi1nXNQk8qxozRbSMuHVx9NqyAHl-RdQL7g4i9ehKDt2ZmB2TVFMz23SMalAoto4uDDDc3MN-8F6DSna99FL6nJgIh8eNAWE/s1600/IMG_3031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJt3d8uJCWhYP2wGdPaBRI_aHInCCsABmnwT_25lMIkGpgi1nXNQk8qxozRbSMuHVx9NqyAHl-RdQL7g4i9ehKDt2ZmB2TVFMz23SMalAoto4uDDDc3MN-8F6DSna99FL6nJgIh8eNAWE/s1600/IMG_3031.JPG" height="200" width="150" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">We
reached Chincoteague in the afternoon<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>and
dropped our gear at our motel before cycling out to<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Assateague Island<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>and visiting the National Seashore
National Park and the island’s 1833 lighthouse. From there we continued
east to the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Atlantic Ocean. Assateague is one of the few places where the
ocean is accessible on Virginia’s Eastern Shore.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span> I waded into the ocean to satisfy
some symbolic notion of dipping my toes into the water at our most eastern spot. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMySFLKZzd3SEhyBip60MRQy10b8e8-WR750Hvw58mjFfG0W7gfy001q0qLCzDy0FZUfgOzMWDku_lzyKu-GLMBbjjoHsCHsp_Z964n-MQYMFkTauLmi_az23NOmdjKlIqXbR8RB_t7pU/s1600/IMG_6830.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMySFLKZzd3SEhyBip60MRQy10b8e8-WR750Hvw58mjFfG0W7gfy001q0qLCzDy0FZUfgOzMWDku_lzyKu-GLMBbjjoHsCHsp_Z964n-MQYMFkTauLmi_az23NOmdjKlIqXbR8RB_t7pU/s1600/IMG_6830.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">The next
day, we cycled a 50 mile loop from Chincoteague that took us north to<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Maryland, then west to the bayside,
before heading back east. Our first stop into history was Horntown.
According to our guide book, Horntown “is not only faded, it is actually
disappearing…Once one of the largest communities on the Shore...” It was
interesting to imagine the town as a large vibrant community. We next headed to the “marrying tree”
where<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Virginia<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>couples “stepped over the line” to
take advantage of<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Maryland’s younger
marrying age. While the tree was not that interesting, we got there
on a serpentine road that took us back and forth between the two states several
times in a few hundred yards. Mostly we cycled through farm lands and
forests where we made several additional stops at historic homes and peaceful
waterways. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Our time
on the Eastern Shore was quickly drawing to a close. We had to get back to Onancock, Virginia
early the next morning, to catch our boat.
We wanted to leave our Chincoteague motel at 6 a.m. to beat the day’s
forecasted 95 degree temperature.
However, the motel desk clerk said that breakfast would not be set out
until<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>7 a.m. As we were
leaving, she decided to break the rules and give us some food. We were
initially flattered that she would do this for 2 old (but good looking) guys, until
we realized that she just wanted someone to talk to. Among many other
things, we heard about her first and only bike ride that was 7 miles and her first
and only camping trip where everyone got sick. Despite all the talk, she
was a real sweetie and provided a good breakfast.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">From our
motel we headed west to get on the bayside roads that would take us
south. Mostly, we cycled through rural farm lands, wet lands, and swampy
forests. The only town on our nearly 60 mile journey was<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Parksley,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>VA, where we had lunch and visited the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Eastern Shore<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Railroad<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Museum. The museum offered
several examples of rail cars that traveled the Eastern Shore, but did not have
any of the Eastern Shore Railroad. Our
destination was back to the motel in Onley, Virginia. Onley was one of several
Eastern Shore towns that sprang up along the railroad in the mid-1880. Because
of its location, the village was originally known as Crossroads. We were
told that Onley is currently Virginia’s largest commercial area on the Eastern Shore
and recently welcomed the only Walmart. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">As we
waited for our boat to depart from Onancock, Virginia for Point Lookout,
Maryland, we got another glimpse of “island life”. Mark, our captain, had
brought his dog with him from Tangier. The dog was injured and needed to
have veterinarian care. While we waited for Mark’s return,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Norwood, one of his buddies showed
up. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Norwood<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>was born on</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">Smith<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Island<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>but now lives on<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Tangier<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Island. He is responsible for
maintaining the underwater electric cable that powers Tangier. He said
that both he and Mark have cars in<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Chrisfield,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Maryland,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>so they can get around when on the
mainland. However, neither had a car in Onancock and Mark had to have
someone pick him up and take him and his dog to the vet. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Norwood<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>likened living on an island to living
on a farm. He said that, instead of driving to town, islanders take a
boat. I understand the analogy but think it a little weak when you try
comparing walking from a farm to swimming from an island. We also met
Bonnie who shops for island residents, and brings the items to Mark’s boat when
he is in Onancock. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTvbkAJ-Vzex2K8v0Hmqkd6LBwn477wxUFxWxwaCZVgyT-pdec5ENjmCIA88f268Jpe8xhQVsEQ7xF-9YtX29K7DtPUrjGbsjoCdzDM3iEVb482cUwBQ06B9m1e5yiB51BWcpdizxqtX4/s1600/IMG_3041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTvbkAJ-Vzex2K8v0Hmqkd6LBwn477wxUFxWxwaCZVgyT-pdec5ENjmCIA88f268Jpe8xhQVsEQ7xF-9YtX29K7DtPUrjGbsjoCdzDM3iEVb482cUwBQ06B9m1e5yiB51BWcpdizxqtX4/s1600/IMG_3041.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><span style="color: #252525; font-size: large;">We
arrived in Point Lookout at<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>noon<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>and started cycling in the heat of the
day. We made several stops for drinks and to take a few pictures in St.
Mary’s, MD. St. Mary’s was<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Maryland’s
first capital and is home to St. Mary’s college. After that we pushed for
a total of 62 miles in temperatures that hit the high 90s. The last 9
miles into LaPlata, Maryland were on Route 301. We caught a tail wind that
allowed us to fly. Even with a 5 mile stretch that was milled into a
bumpy mess, we traveled at 18 to 20 mph. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="color: #252525; font-size: large;">We left
LaPlata, MD at 6 in morning to try to beat the heat, which was again predicted
to be in the high 90s. Our route took us over country roads, which
unfortunately, were filled with early morning commuter traffic. However, once
we reached National Harbor, Maryland, we were on bike trails that
offered a very relaxed ride. We crossed
the Potomac River on the Wilson Bridge bike trail. In Virginia, we took the George Washington Trail
to National Airport, the Four Mile Run Trail to Sherlington, and finally the
Washington and Old Dominion Trail to Falls Church. Our trip covered 650 miles by bike and 70
miles by boat over 12 days. Our daily
blog, photos, and routes can be seen at http://chesapeakebaybybike.blogspot.com/.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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yellowbiketaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03930267735169346620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8612292389702167581.post-23512901133219580202013-10-29T12:41:00.000-04:002013-10-29T12:42:20.374-04:00THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE UGLY: COMPLETING LEWIS AND CLARK’S JOURNEYPhotos by Joseph
Insalaco<o:p></o:p><br />
<o:p> </o:p><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBTLmvFrq1HqnvRIq1gKOE5tixIDxKUe8lAgvGAqtXOzewUSSh5kJJaznpDCnIq90Qd6c3bwaLeixEWwJP5bF1BH8R4kDHg_Ty3SNIVnOqKWPiZ6tuMy46pHnxw_hHwQ0JkPQf9rDx6QU/s1600/IMG_6165.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBTLmvFrq1HqnvRIq1gKOE5tixIDxKUe8lAgvGAqtXOzewUSSh5kJJaznpDCnIq90Qd6c3bwaLeixEWwJP5bF1BH8R4kDHg_Ty3SNIVnOqKWPiZ6tuMy46pHnxw_hHwQ0JkPQf9rDx6QU/s320/IMG_6165.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
In 2009, two of my friends and I headed west from St. Louis
following Lewis & Clark’s route. At that time only one of us, Hans-Peter,
made it to the Pacific Ocean. In 2013, Joe and I headed west again to complete the
journey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since Lewis and Clark took over
2 years (1804-1806) to finish, we felt that our delay was for purely historical
purposes. During our trip, we posted a blog providing daily events, mileage,
and photographs (<a href="http://lewisandclark2013.blogspot.com/"><span style="color: blue;">http://lewisandclark2013.blogspot.com/</span></a>).<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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After each of my cycling trips, I am asked questions like,
“how was it” or “what part did you like the best.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
answer is usually, “fantastic” followed up by a couple of good stories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In some ways this trip had some real
challenges that, at the time, seemed to overwhelm the many great things we
experienced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It took me a while to
decide how I could characterize this adventure without the tough parts
dominating the story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After some
contemplation, I thought of the title of Clint Eastwood’s epic spaghetti
western, “The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly” and it seemed to fit our trip. <o:p></o:p></div>
<o:p> </o:p><br />
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<u>The GOOD<o:p></o:p></u></div>
<o:p> </o:p><br />
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When Joe and I got off the train in Havre, Montana (the end
of our 2009 trip) it was raining heavily (it was ugly) and my bike was missing
(that was bad).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Both of these events
could have a real damper on any cycling trip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>However, spending an extra day waiting for my bike allowed 3 good things
to happen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First, because we were unable
to start cycling we avoided the heavy rains that fell the next morning and into
the mid-afternoon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Second, we visited
Havre’s tourist attractions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Third, our
friend, Hans-Peter who was cycling from the Pacific Ocean to Bar Harbor, Maine,
met us in Havre the next day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<o:p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinLbIb_Ae09bJjEqaZGZL3OTUl8dX3p-bqZZBqxiQUo8NUmrQXgLt5wi2PTyDc8ogVCcOy8PczOZtnTVU-CRcSbix-EVpHAPijGOGbKZCowInBKUthFiizlDJlQhdCCpNtm5bz0-15SbE/s1600/052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinLbIb_Ae09bJjEqaZGZL3OTUl8dX3p-bqZZBqxiQUo8NUmrQXgLt5wi2PTyDc8ogVCcOy8PczOZtnTVU-CRcSbix-EVpHAPijGOGbKZCowInBKUthFiizlDJlQhdCCpNtm5bz0-15SbE/s320/052.JPG" width="240" /></a></o:p><br />
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The town dates back to late 1800 when it started as a rough
and tumble railroad and military town with few women but lots of bars and
brothels.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A fire in 1904 destroyed five
blocks of its business district.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
businesses soon reopened in their remaining basements and continued to operate underground
even as the town was rebuilt above them, thus Havre Underground.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the city above was rejuvenated, clear
glass blocks were installed in the sidewalks to allow light into the
underground.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the glass blocks aged
they turned purple, creating an interesting underground mosaic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The recreated underground businesses include a
brothel, bars, dental office, drug store, meat market, law office, bakery,
laundry, and opium den.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While no
brothels or opium dens were visible during our above-ground tour of Havre, the
town still seems like it has a rough edge with lots of bars and casinos.<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
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Our next tourist stop was the “Buffalo Jump,” about 8 miles
from Havre.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Buffalo Jump got its
name from the Native American practice of stampeding buffalo over a cliff so
meat and hides could be harvested. The site dates back 2,000 years and was
preserved as the hillside collapsed and covered the remains.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the late 1960s, archaeologists began
uncovering 3 distinct layers of activity. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ZToijHeFVxkrNmtobCDzweHs_ien9g3KzqT4MqL8dCsnvjUIKFNeURM0efYCx9vUhk1oeL4ZDCIlTRAfU970q9fYA1BjYEPxdzJiIeAhcJzFAYpweTzdXwQ_dlHrXQ_KWKS8oqhZO7Y/s1600/photo+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ZToijHeFVxkrNmtobCDzweHs_ien9g3KzqT4MqL8dCsnvjUIKFNeURM0efYCx9vUhk1oeL4ZDCIlTRAfU970q9fYA1BjYEPxdzJiIeAhcJzFAYpweTzdXwQ_dlHrXQ_KWKS8oqhZO7Y/s320/photo+3.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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Hans-Peter arrived later in the day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That evening we cycled to one of Havre’s
restaurants that overlooked the town.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There, we enjoyed swapping stories over dinner and beers.<o:p></o:p></div>
<o:p> </o:p><br />
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Several days after leaving Havre, we had a string of good
days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From Great Falls we headed
southwest on an old highway that was devoid of traffic as it paralleled the Interstate.
We headed towards picturesque mountain ranges.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>While the closer mountains were scenic, behind them sat even larger snowcapped
mountains that caught our attention.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pronghorn
antelopes were in the fields and raced us as we moved westward. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we reached the town of Cascade, we
stopped at the newly remodeled Cascade Coffee and Café where the owner and her short-order
chef served us great food and warn hospitality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<o:p> </o:p><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmuKB03oT6SXfKAbotbYbvEkOrZ0ZsQRfT66rLSR1lT-fnJlISpeiAuZCSoviZ7qoYDJHnTHNN2gOJf-lTp4TtHyLWeu6FyONTjZpyNHY_0WARZw8ju5HxUzcVoYJ0E76GhK2lZqtLAGM/s1600/IMG_6118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmuKB03oT6SXfKAbotbYbvEkOrZ0ZsQRfT66rLSR1lT-fnJlISpeiAuZCSoviZ7qoYDJHnTHNN2gOJf-lTp4TtHyLWeu6FyONTjZpyNHY_0WARZw8ju5HxUzcVoYJ0E76GhK2lZqtLAGM/s320/IMG_6118.JPG" width="320" /></a>Leaving Cascade, we cycled along the Missouri River.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The terrain slowly changed and became hilly
as we approached Tower Rock State Park, noted in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Meriwether_Lewis" title="Meriwether Lewis"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Meriwether </span></a>Lewis’
journal as “The Tower.” Lewis reported that he climbed the 400 foot rock with
some difficulty but from there saw a pleasing view of the country…and immense
herds of buffalo in the plains below.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just
past the Park we could see the nearby Interstate climb up into the mountains.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, we continued on our county road that
ran alongside the river avoiding a big climb and providing us with a scenic ride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Following the Missouri River, we soon entered
a canyon that snaked through sheer cliffs for about 15 miles of cycling bliss.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We ended the day at the “town” of Wolf Creek
that provided us good lodging and meals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The town, however, wasn’t much more than several outfitters, 2 motels
(only one still in business), a post office, 2 bars, a few homes and a church. <o:p></o:p></div>
<o:p> </o:p><br />
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Days later, in Lolo Hot Springs, Montana, we were “treated”
to a concert so it must fit the “good” category.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of the first things we did upon our
arrival was relax in the hot springs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Later,
we went to the bar for our meal and were immediately thrown into a time
warp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When making our reservations we
were told that a “pirate concert” would be happening just across the highway
from our lodge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Neither of us took this
warning too seriously. We still don’t know what a pirate concert is, but the
clothing the kids were wearing was a direct throwback to the 1970s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The guys were skuzzy and the girls half
dressed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, we are officially old (which
may be bad but does give us time to take cycling trips).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Furthermore, the music was nothing we could
relate to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a throbbing bass that
literally vibrated our motel room that was 300 yards away from the stage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<o:p> </o:p><br />
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We left at dawn the next morning accompanied by the
continuing loud music and a barrage of fireworks that sailed into the air in
our honor…at least that is what we believed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We climbed a long, but easy, incline for about an hour before the road
got steeper as we crossed over Lolo Pass at 5,233 feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a relatively easy climb but the
temperatures were in the mid-thirties and we were cold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Next, we had a fast 5 mile downhill ride that
took us to Powell, Idaho were we stopped for breakfast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(In 2002, we camped here when we cycled
across the United States.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Powell is not
a town but rather a ranger station with a camp ground, cabins, and a great
restaurant. As we turned off the highway, we met Reinhare a cyclist from
Germany and joined him for breakfast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Reinhare
was cycling from Portland, Oregon to Portland, Maine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our breakfast was excellent but too much for
us to consume, which was good because it provided 2 large huckleberry pancakes
for lunch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<o:p> </o:p><br />
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The rest of the day, we enjoyed a gradual decline, as we
followed the Lochsa River for the next 70 miles. This was the beginning of
several fantastic days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As we continued
westward, we met more cyclists.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Becky
and Denis were cycling home to Delaware and were only 7 days from their start
in Portland, Oregon. While we recommended the restaurant in Powell, they warned
us that all we had to look forward to were fried foods and hamburgers until we
got closer to Portland.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<o:p> </o:p><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQhym8zvps9MSeMb2WymZM0G_Z4qFxAq4Niz0LqY5lFilVwSoHYARmbClt10BSA7-Ydvr36qc9nmDsXrE7ZotttgoOBzKCPztIrOkKIstADhD8U4yp4PCEh3THdJ8IF3QWgUgrTG1qPt8/s1600/IMG_2887.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQhym8zvps9MSeMb2WymZM0G_Z4qFxAq4Niz0LqY5lFilVwSoHYARmbClt10BSA7-Ydvr36qc9nmDsXrE7ZotttgoOBzKCPztIrOkKIstADhD8U4yp4PCEh3THdJ8IF3QWgUgrTG1qPt8/s320/IMG_2887.JPG" width="320" /></a>The Lochsa River is scenic and fast moving. It races over
rocks and around sharp bends through a valley of pine trees and steep hills. Along
the way we saw many white water rafters which provided us with a great
diversion. We would race ahead of the rafts to a good spot for photographs and
after they passed we would race to the next spot for more pictures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With our racing, the heat and head winds, we
found ourselves low on drinking water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But, as the old saying goes, “the road provides,” and one of the raft
group support vehicles had plenty of water to share.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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At Three Forks, the Lochsa River merged with the Selway
River and later the Clearwater River.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
river became less wild as it became wider and calmer but we were still faced
with a constant head wind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As we entered
Orofino, Idaho, we saw a new motel across the river that was not on our list of
lodgings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While our “planned” lodging
was 2 miles further downriver, we could not pass up a new motel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
rate matched the prevailing rate on this trip but we got a much better lodging
than most nights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we entered the
lobby, Courtney, the manager, greeted us with bottles of cold water, and a warm
smile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another woman, who introduced
herself as the breakfast hostess, asked if we planned to leave early the next
day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we told her that we did, she
said she would have breakfast ready earlier than scheduled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sure enough, at 5:30 the next morning we had
fresh coffee, real eggs, sausages, etc., and a wonderful start to our day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now that was good!<o:p></o:p></div>
<o:p> </o:p><br />
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Sometimes, those ugly head winds actually produced good
results.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had been leaving early to
avoid the head winds that start as the day warms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Leaving Pomeroy, Washington we encountered 20
to 25 mph winds out of the south west. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
was ok for awhile because we were not headed directly into the wind and had a
15 mile gradual downhill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, when
our direction changed directly to the southwest, things got tough. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As if the steady winds were not bad enough,
the gusts were much stronger and occasionally blew us off the road. (We learned
later that the gusts were 30 to 40 mph.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We finally arrived in Dayton, Washington, and decided to stop for the
day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<o:p> </o:p><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKcP3G9WCztFe6QsB4QIyqVkWBWVjSQCfXBuS5RI1Him2bCB_qDy8DsZoGc613pfNSLwkUR5GplM7PsxtQBWTLP3YAe9oX6C9JCHrBPZn2GjxX2AxL6hw7B4i6j7vLIFsm1LcYEcODGjI/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKcP3G9WCztFe6QsB4QIyqVkWBWVjSQCfXBuS5RI1Him2bCB_qDy8DsZoGc613pfNSLwkUR5GplM7PsxtQBWTLP3YAe9oX6C9JCHrBPZn2GjxX2AxL6hw7B4i6j7vLIFsm1LcYEcODGjI/s320/photo+2.JPG" width="289" /></a>Dayton is a real gem that we would have missed if we
continued with the day’s planned mileage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Not to waste the day, we took a walking tour of Dayton, which dates back
to 1860.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dayton’s downtown has not only
survived but appears to be thriving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In
addition to our motel (another new Best Western), we found several nice
restaurants, a brew pub, several cafes, the usual bar and pizza places, several
stores, art galleries, and antique shops. We also saw the historic county courthouse
and the restored train station--built in 1881 by the Oregon Railroad and
Navigation Company and is the oldest surviving train station in
Washington.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<o:p> </o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During our walk we
decided to check out each of the restaurant’s dinner menus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We stopped first at the Fire and Irons
Brewpub and sampled several beers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Next
we wandered into the Manila Bay Asian Café that required reservations and had
some very interesting but expensive menu items. Near the end of our walk we
found Weinhard Café and went back there for dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dinner started with local beers, cream of
asparagus soup, mixed green salad and their own flat bread with a chickpea and
radish spread.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For our main course we
each had fresh halibut over a bed of rice topped with green curry sauce and a
side of asparagus spears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For dessert
Joe had pecan pie and I had the black berry cobbler.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The menu changes daily and the breads and
desserts are all “house made.” This was a fantastic meal and a far cry from the
ever-prevalent hamburgers and fried chicken.<o:p></o:p></div>
<o:p> </o:p><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgASLpvkXAAspwWlQbIeJRk1WIsrJ-bq49DWbimLOU9SrBphiTZOHTCxXgg8WUEXDGEjOfwkN4DccuT4o4C9iWSHpWsxRmZrxeWSZ12B0fnLOyBRnoSx-LNAD1IHLkeOMqZAzXV6CtqWuo/s1600/IMG_6422.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgASLpvkXAAspwWlQbIeJRk1WIsrJ-bq49DWbimLOU9SrBphiTZOHTCxXgg8WUEXDGEjOfwkN4DccuT4o4C9iWSHpWsxRmZrxeWSZ12B0fnLOyBRnoSx-LNAD1IHLkeOMqZAzXV6CtqWuo/s320/IMG_6422.JPG" width="320" /></a>For several days, we had to cycle on the Interstate Highway
that ran next to the Columbia River.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
should have been scenic but with the traffic noise and headwinds we just wanted
to pound out the miles and get to The Dalles, Oregon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is where the Gorge transitioned from
high desert to a rainforest environment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Leaving The Dalles, we cycled on
a trail that took us west along the Columbia River.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While the trail was paved, it was more of a
nature trail;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>meandering with lots of
twists and turns meant to give the trail user a look at the flora and fauna
that grows in the marsh along the river.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>From there we got on Historic Route 30, a rarely used road that goes
into the mountains overlooking the river.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Parts of this route are closed to motorized vehicles which was
good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It also <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></b><br />
had some climbs but we
enjoyed the vistas and lack of traffic that took us into Hood River, Oregon.</div>
<br />
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<o:p> </o:p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnGlAyNoS0a-vVdxJVQ6UHpcvm4KHSOt7eN4vqFls3OyUe_E1MiCEBjApQIQ_WjykUmWWCchQwD3JN7wyXBPPgKJrGGuOc6M6XClGA1dPFjpfxiZiBh98XS8iVz_6I1Ho3ypRJ8JG07-Q/s1600/IMG_6369.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnGlAyNoS0a-vVdxJVQ6UHpcvm4KHSOt7eN4vqFls3OyUe_E1MiCEBjApQIQ_WjykUmWWCchQwD3JN7wyXBPPgKJrGGuOc6M6XClGA1dPFjpfxiZiBh98XS8iVz_6I1Ho3ypRJ8JG07-Q/s320/IMG_6369.JPG" width="320" /></a> </div>
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From Cascade Locks we again cycled on a bike path that took
us west along the Interstate for about 5 miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>From there, we had to get on the Interstate for only 3 miles before
transitioning back to “Historic Route 30” that took us by many large water
falls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most notable is the Multnomah
Falls, the highest waterfall in the Columbia River Gorge with a total drop of
620 feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Later, we had a long climb up
to Vista House that was above the clouds (not that we were so high but the
clouds were low over the river) and offered a wonderful view of the Columbia
River and valley below.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As we continued
west, we cycled along the top of the ridge for several miles before we came to
the long anticipated downhill that dropped us back to the river and led us into
Portland, Oregon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As we worked our way
into the city, we cycled mostly on bike paths along the Columbia River with
Mount Hood looming behind us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once we
got into the city, we headed for the River City Bike shop where we left our
bikes to be shipped home. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju4Z5OJeuDrmZXAVzIzR3cl7YpYY0v5rX-UPRYxaVcci1o8HuD87339pk6VyETbO04zyrym8_TgCrJ1pxqkWTCgEG-javRtYTovHFVzQkUNHF0WWKOHBNfBi_JkbEmV_tpIUD15EgITCM/s1600/IMG_6400.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju4Z5OJeuDrmZXAVzIzR3cl7YpYY0v5rX-UPRYxaVcci1o8HuD87339pk6VyETbO04zyrym8_TgCrJ1pxqkWTCgEG-javRtYTovHFVzQkUNHF0WWKOHBNfBi_JkbEmV_tpIUD15EgITCM/s320/IMG_6400.JPG" width="240" /></a><o:p> </o:p></div>
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<u>THE BAD<o:p></o:p></u></div>
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After reading about the good, you may not be sympathetic
about the “bad” we encountered. But one day was truly bad and cannot be
ignored.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In Fort Benton, Montana, we
woke to heavy rains and cold temperatures and contemplated staying in our motel
for another day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, we thought we
could tough out the weather but it really punished us. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The temperature stayed in the low 50s and the
wind blew the rain under our protective gear making us wet and cold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We worried about hyperthermia and there was
no place to get out of the weather—no gas station, restaurant, roadside
shelter—so we just had to push on to Great Falls, Montana, 43 miles away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the first motel we found, we took long hot
showers, enjoyed several hot drinks, and blasted the heat in our room. Surprisingly,
several days later as we were again battling headwinds up a 2 mile climb (near
Helena, Montana) we met Marlowe Rames who had a different perspective to our bad
day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Marlowe told us he wanted to talk
to us because he saw us cycling in the rain on the road to Great Falls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He told us how tough he thought we were
cycling in such bad weather and wished he had the determination to do what we
did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gee, we thought that we were just
stupid.<o:p></o:p></div>
<o:p> </o:p><br />
<o:p></o:p><br />
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<u>THE UGLY<o:p></o:p></u></div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4lijJ6jRShLmR1vCj9svXhatWveCD-KMiYS5m9JobFZz0wCVHW5U8KxCgQyoeIkTKKCAxroAxnjqOQ5vu4x3-C2BHfLOe0WM18qN2Q8osCUmasBk123liIY_UGAsMdAHf3n9d2R7FWd8/s1600/IMG_6334.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4lijJ6jRShLmR1vCj9svXhatWveCD-KMiYS5m9JobFZz0wCVHW5U8KxCgQyoeIkTKKCAxroAxnjqOQ5vu4x3-C2BHfLOe0WM18qN2Q8osCUmasBk123liIY_UGAsMdAHf3n9d2R7FWd8/s320/IMG_6334.JPG" width="320" /></a>I have made several references to the head winds we
encountered on this trip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let me get
this over with quickly. We had head winds during most of our trip and some days
they were downright challenging.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before
undertaking this journey, we checked into the common belief that the winds are
predominately from the west.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What we
found out was that the trade winds are from the west but they are thousands of
feet in the air pushing airliners east.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Surface winds, however, are “usually” from the south; except in the
Columbia River George which acts like a wind tunnel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<o:p> </o:p><br />
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The winds up the Columbia River Gorge were as bad as
predicted but they weren’t the worst and most days the winds came from the
west; so much for our research.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the
end of one of our particular tough days we received an email from our friend
Hans-Peter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As you will recall, he was
heading east and we were going west.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Hans-Peter complained that the headwinds were also keeping him from
moving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We wondered how it could be that
the east bound cyclist and west bound cyclist both have head winds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The old cyclist’s adage must be true, “no
matter which way you are heading, you will have a headwind.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<o:p> </o:p><br />
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<u>THE END<o:p></o:p></u></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p> </o:p>In no way would I compare our “struggles” with those of Lewis
and Clark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nor was our ending dramatic
like an Eastwood movie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, our
last miles between Portland and Astoria, Oregon, were not spent on our bikes
but in a car reducing our travel time from 2 days to just hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After spending a day in Astoria, we drove
back to Portland where we caught flights to our homes. Despite the headwinds
and one cold/wet day, we had a great trip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
yellowbiketaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03930267735169346620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8612292389702167581.post-6905181983341103942012-09-20T08:32:00.002-04:002013-09-27T07:55:09.631-04:00Exploring the Acadian Shores(Published in SPOKES, Winter 2012-13)<br />
Photos by Joseph Insalaco<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_agAHQCWqAtg9G3YGBtatxDlznlXjivEx-BEtbhVghyphenhyphenfWOXdORosGXXbZRnl1cFsuk2pk4Qqel4b7ppiCLCFFMKqZ46vdw4xT6kUuoyCCLqhPsOW_GOUyvmpfNtCl9WRDNlFr1aa9ihA/s1600/IMG_5941.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_agAHQCWqAtg9G3YGBtatxDlznlXjivEx-BEtbhVghyphenhyphenfWOXdORosGXXbZRnl1cFsuk2pk4Qqel4b7ppiCLCFFMKqZ46vdw4xT6kUuoyCCLqhPsOW_GOUyvmpfNtCl9WRDNlFr1aa9ihA/s200/IMG_5941.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
Our panoramic view of the Atlantic Ocean and its rocky shores made getting to the mountain top overlook worthwhile. Leaving Cheticamp, Nova Scotia on the Cabot Trail we were encased in fog and buffeted by strong winds. We cycled along the ocean toward French Mountain’s 1,500 foot climb. The climb was slow but not difficult. The wind soon brought cold temperatures and rain that caught us by surprise. From the summit of French Mountain it was just a short ride to the top of MacKenzie Mountain. The effort was worth the reward: a wonderful ocean view followed by a great downhill ride into the warm sun. <br />
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The beauty of this trip was its many ocean views. Sometimes these views were anticipated but others just seemed to materialize at the right time.
The Acadian Shores offer ocean-side cycling, mountains, valleys, natural wonders, interesting towns, and great cycling experiences. Our trip took us to 3 Acadian locations: Acadia National Park in Maine and Annapolis Valley and Cape Breton Island in Nova Scotia. Our daily experiences, photos, and maps can be viewed at <a href="http://acadiashores2012.blogspot.com/">http://acadiashores2012.blogspot.com</a>.
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<b>The Journey Begins</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP2xEbynKVU4jcSGRGJSVSVOpD8KRYmQKGAlmoD-8RkLMYojBEoIcnIsIJyabgAZ7fuV-vgEzP6neavQIlIC6IohbecrYUhdVPxdI5t3iYmFYKHwopBIBTw8d6aWUa6C4r-14laWiQlHo/s1600/IMG_5569.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP2xEbynKVU4jcSGRGJSVSVOpD8KRYmQKGAlmoD-8RkLMYojBEoIcnIsIJyabgAZ7fuV-vgEzP6neavQIlIC6IohbecrYUhdVPxdI5t3iYmFYKHwopBIBTw8d6aWUa6C4r-14laWiQlHo/s200/IMG_5569.JPG" width="200" /></a>
To start our journey, I drove 300 miles from northern Virginia to Joe's home near Poughkeepsie, New York. Joe has been my cycling companion since we met 10 years ago when we cycled across the United States. Leaving Joe’s home, we drove 450 miles to Bar Harbor, Maine. Our only real stop on this long drive was in the town of Wiscasset, Maine. There we ate a lobster roll at Red’s Eats—an eatery featured on many PBS specials. Red’s Eats is a very small place (no indoor dining) located on Route 1 at the Wiscasset River Bridge. We got there at 1 p.m. and were 23rd in an ever growing line. It took 40 minutes for us to place our order, another 10 minutes to get our food, and only 10 minutes to eat a shared lobster roll. FYI, a lobster roll and soda cost $18.50. The place must be a gold mine.
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<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWIUzEXzpRLpsRPU3gPnlsOgc1KBtBJSzri2AXHhBLDg2ZRw5IXWQ990JGPsUEGUxfjlxXcXqM_5MiYl4kQNFvxHncX1o9JLLnXXTvPHrxQmiHv3awlrHn_O4D7aDOVNscNvzdwFuji2s/s1600/IMG_2673.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWIUzEXzpRLpsRPU3gPnlsOgc1KBtBJSzri2AXHhBLDg2ZRw5IXWQ990JGPsUEGUxfjlxXcXqM_5MiYl4kQNFvxHncX1o9JLLnXXTvPHrxQmiHv3awlrHn_O4D7aDOVNscNvzdwFuji2s/s200/IMG_2673.JPG" width="150" /></a><b>Acadia National Park</b><br />
<b></b><br />
Acadia Park is just a few miles from Bar Harbor, Maine. Our first adventure was to cycle the Park’s carriage roads. These gravel roads were built by John D. Rockefeller, Jr. before the island became a national park. The roads allowed the island’s wealthy residents to ride their horses and buggies over the island to see its wonderful lakes, mountains, and scenic overlooks. Forty miles of carriage roads are still closed to motorized vehicles and widely used by walkers and bicyclists. We cycled a route to see all of the park’s lakes and overlooks and for Joe to photograph all 17 of the carriage roads’ stone arch bridges.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3HECtfkWINXfQZlmeEAOReRqgTutuHoS3Pk5gWeUEI18pUUbenMjXJDzyX5umnIjPROOzsefwv44GxtJV73KHLrIL4jPa4y_4qBHjAp4FQD2pdQBjzBiZo6bybco25F5ChYSKnS8A-x8/s1600/IMG_5583.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3HECtfkWINXfQZlmeEAOReRqgTutuHoS3Pk5gWeUEI18pUUbenMjXJDzyX5umnIjPROOzsefwv44GxtJV73KHLrIL4jPa4y_4qBHjAp4FQD2pdQBjzBiZo6bybco25F5ChYSKnS8A-x8/s200/IMG_5583.JPG" width="200" /></a>While we had many climbs, they were not difficult (since they were built for horse drawn carriages). The first couple of descents were cautious with a liberal application of our brakes. However, the down hills became fantastic once we got comfortable with the gravel surface. Words cannot describe the peaceful moments we enjoyed along the lakes or the “wow” moments the vistas offered after a long climb.
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<br />
Our second cycling excursion was on the Park’s Loop Road. This paved road snakes about 30 miles along the coast, through valleys, and up and down many hills as it loops through the park. Even though the road has 2 lanes, much of it is restricted to one way traffic in a clockwise direction. We stopped at every pull-off and point of interest along the way. At Sand Beach we left our bikes and stuck our toes in the ocean. We figured that this area got its name because most of the Park’s shore line is covered in rocks.
Another stop was at Thunder Hole—a narrow rocky cove with caves that “thunder” as high tide rolls in. Since we were there at low tide, we drove back in the evening to hear the thunder. However, the hole did not thunder. We were told that the “thunder” is best during full moon and bad weather—2 things that we didn’t include in our planning.
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Cycling, not sightseeing became our focus once we left the ocean side of the Park Loop Road. We enjoyed the gentle climbs and surprising fast downhill rides as we approached Cadillac Mountain. The climb up this mountain was 3.5 miles with sweeping switch backs and only a few steep grades. The climb was well worth the effort. At 1,530 feet above sea level, it is the highest point on the island. The views were fantastic and we could see far out into the ocean and back into the mainland. Needless to say, our ride down the mountain was great. The broad sweeping curves allowed fast descents. In fact, slow moving cars pulled off the road to let us pass as we flew downward.
Cadillac Mountain has the distinction of hosting the first sunrise to reach the United States.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmfRAE84L7jriU5u6ekQbSuRxPmN0GHkAljOJzey2YLZy0Kv-s-v3SSgit3zE5krF2yXSKk5gTYnBltq1pS8zNFk0cDvXMVEXFITjne23Go3oxhnAsSiyGAVMR7b6pnaALoJPJHTGCMTs/s1600/IMG_5688.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmfRAE84L7jriU5u6ekQbSuRxPmN0GHkAljOJzey2YLZy0Kv-s-v3SSgit3zE5krF2yXSKk5gTYnBltq1pS8zNFk0cDvXMVEXFITjne23Go3oxhnAsSiyGAVMR7b6pnaALoJPJHTGCMTs/s200/IMG_5688.JPG" width="200" /></a>Not wanting to miss a minute of the next day, we were on Cadillac Mountain at 4:30 a.m. waiting for the 5 a.m. sunrise. It was worth the early morning start to see the sun rise over the ocean. However, we were not alone. This popular tourist destination was crowded and one ingenious person set up his camp stove and brewed coffee. After descending the mountain, we decided to cycle the Loop Road for the second time. However, this time our focus was not sightseeing but just cycling. Our speed was up and stops were eliminated. We had a fantastic ride. When we reached Cadillac Mountain, we just had to climb it again.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7P7nXarauM_OOiPk-JJiVzZ42m62GB2kfEKZAYzTlNR1ivqv4TA3bCoPQJPh8kFbEW5_15-hVHS2ZLsWLl8JMfZ6v2fEaIfdiho1Md47la4Q0uBlsOkKL0NYPU9NQ0AESRTXaHEAJN6w/s1600/IMG_2627.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7P7nXarauM_OOiPk-JJiVzZ42m62GB2kfEKZAYzTlNR1ivqv4TA3bCoPQJPh8kFbEW5_15-hVHS2ZLsWLl8JMfZ6v2fEaIfdiho1Md47la4Q0uBlsOkKL0NYPU9NQ0AESRTXaHEAJN6w/s200/IMG_2627.JPG" width="200" /></a>In the afternoon, we drove to the nearby town of Southwest Harbor for a sea kayak tour. After being outfitted, we put into the water at Seal Sound and paddled 6.5 miles to the town of Pretty Marsh. During our journey we quickly realized that cycling did not prepare us for kayaking. We were tired after nearly 3 hours on the water but had a great time.
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<b>Annapolis Valley</b><br />
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It was difficult to leave Acadia Park’s natural wonders and great cycling. Our drive north took us through small towns and over some narrow highways before we reached Calais, Maine, where we crossed the border into Canada. We stopped for the night in St. John, New Brunswick. The next morning we took a foggy 3 hour (45 mile) ferry ride across Fundy Bay to Nova Scotia, Canada.
As we approached the dock in Digby, Nova Scotia, the fog cleared allowing us to see this part of the Acadian coast. From there we could see the coastline and mountains that hid Annapolis Valley, where we planned to spend several days cycling. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXGosjEzMJEYXpTqeikIIwYkhqfPuoxD_rUPYm3-cY4GcGaCYb3frdDsU2db_6tQnpCFdkM7TxVB17a25w1XkfLxfSz2uMxcH822mxbOoRyTzDR7kmMa-2bAFoW4Pg9_wPeu2oo-PvfeY/s1600/IMG_2660.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXGosjEzMJEYXpTqeikIIwYkhqfPuoxD_rUPYm3-cY4GcGaCYb3frdDsU2db_6tQnpCFdkM7TxVB17a25w1XkfLxfSz2uMxcH822mxbOoRyTzDR7kmMa-2bAFoW4Pg9_wPeu2oo-PvfeY/s200/IMG_2660.JPG" width="200" /></a>We took 3 rides in the Annapolis Valley leaving from the towns of Annapolis Royal, Middleton, and Wolfville. During each ride we climbed out of the valley to cycle along the Fundy Bay coast. In the evenings we stayed in historic B&Bs and enjoyed Fundy Bay's fresh sea scallops.
Each of our Annapolis Valley rides started with morning fog, cool temperatures, and a climb. While the fog delayed our enjoyment of Fundy Bay, it did turn our focus to all the gardens and wild flowers that bordered the roads. The variety of colors and plant types were wonderful. God must have used all the colors in a box of 48 crayons when planting these flowers. During these rides, we stopped at local restaurants, fruit stands, wineries, and art studios. We also met many interesting French speaking Acadians.<br />
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In Wolfville, we stayed at the Victoria’s Historic Inn that was built in 1893 by William Henry Chase. Locally, Mr. Chase was known as the “Apple King” because he built the province’s first railway warehouse which became a major shipping point for the region’s apple crop. By 1933 he was one of the world's largest apple exporters. <br />
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For obvious reasons, my friend Joe wanted to stop for dinner at a Wolfville restaurant called “Joe’s”. When we sat down, our waitress told us that it was spaghetti night and servings were only $2.88 with the purchase of a drink. Since most of our meals on this trip had been expensive, we thought that we were going to get off cheaply. We each ordered spaghetti and a beer. Only when the bill came, did we realize that our beers cost $7.00 each, more than twice the cost of our meal.
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<br />
Before leaving Wolfville, we wanted to experience Fundy Bay’s famous tidal bores. Tidal bores are the phenomenon in which the leading edge of the incoming tide forms a wave (or waves) of water that travels up a river or narrow bay against the direction of the current. Some tidal bores have been reported to be as high as several feet, resulting in a high tide that can be 50 above the low tide level.
We asked several people where to witness the tidal bores and got as many different answers. Even our internet search produced more options. We chose one that took us north along the Minas Basin and towards Fundy Bay. We cycled gently rolling hills for about 20 miles until we got to our selected spot. However, our timing was lousy and we did not see any surge of water. However, judging by the dock’s ladder the water rose over 2 feet in one-half hour.
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<br />
Disappointed, we had one more option to see the tidal bores. During our drive to Cape Breton Island we stopped at the town of Turo, a popular tidal bore viewing location. We joined about 50 other tourist and witnessed the river moving in reverse as the tidal bore rushed to our vantage point and raised the water level several feet in about 10 minutes. While the experience was worthwhile, it was not as dramatic as we had hoped to see. At the welcome center we were told that “the fuller the moon the more dramatic the tidal bore.” Unfortunately, we didn’t consider the moon phases in our trip plan.<br />
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<b>Cape Breton Island and the Cabot Trail</b>
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<br />
We drove to the town of Beddeck, Nova Scotia and left our van there for our excursion around Cape Breton Island. The highway that circumnavigates the island is called the Cabot Trail and it goes through Canada’s Cape Breton Highlands National Park. Because of its mountainous terrain, Highlands Park was appropriately named.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf-x273hmh9QYTWQDWVYbc2hAnHwfD7d9hjVQ7k8hxyVU4YiNOlTJnNdK-GnEAP1rIjpcefhO6jFOMfgKMqdERI4xD6sdMYBdsZAh2rm0V1VJKBV9m0zcirf3Vk6PBWsHgIygrOI5XSt0/s1600/IMG_5882-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf-x273hmh9QYTWQDWVYbc2hAnHwfD7d9hjVQ7k8hxyVU4YiNOlTJnNdK-GnEAP1rIjpcefhO6jFOMfgKMqdERI4xD6sdMYBdsZAh2rm0V1VJKBV9m0zcirf3Vk6PBWsHgIygrOI5XSt0/s200/IMG_5882-001.JPG" width="142" /></a>
Our first day started out with cool temperatures and a warm-up climb of 500 feet. After the climb, we had forests and fog for many miles. Then, our day changed for the better. In the middle of “nowhere” we smelled fresh baked goods and it wasn’t long until we found the Dancing Goat Bakery and Café. The wonderful smells matched their excellent tasting pastries. As we lingered there we met several employees who were also cyclists. Soon after leaving, the forest and fog disappeared as we dropped into a long valley that was populated with farms. We were rolling along at a good clip when we spotted a bald eagle sitting in a tree just off to our right. It was majestic and posed for many pictures.
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At the end of the valley, we came to the Gulf of St. Lawrence. We could not ask for anything more as we turned north and cycled along the ocean. We stopped for the day at a small fishing/tourist town called Cheticamp where we enjoyed a nice motel and restaurant. After dinner, we went to a bar and listened to a local female folk singer. Her music was a mixture of English and Acadian.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh44ACvx197jqd-AELVnvGKSM2io8I6_o0u2AWHUVWiweA73nXfUsu6Arz2Ak4YgiNxtkISHLm8TL4pwS4tH604je-Qye4Hbejun7LqJiFjY_R7yRvEI05dMvv0idWgv6G-eGvLEF7a3OM/s1600/IMG_5903-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh44ACvx197jqd-AELVnvGKSM2io8I6_o0u2AWHUVWiweA73nXfUsu6Arz2Ak4YgiNxtkISHLm8TL4pwS4tH604je-Qye4Hbejun7LqJiFjY_R7yRvEI05dMvv0idWgv6G-eGvLEF7a3OM/s200/IMG_5903-001.JPG" width="200" /></a>
The next morning, we woke up to strong winds blowing off the ocean. We headed north on the Cabot Trail fighting side winds before turning inland where we enjoyed a few miles of tail winds. Shortly after that we entered Cape Breton Highlands National Park and met 3 roadies that were also going to the town of Pleasant Bay. While our ride would be only 28 miles over the mountains, they planned to return the same day. Approaching French and MacKenzie Mountains we enjoyed ocean-side cycling. As we dropped down from the mountain we enjoyed ocean vistas and a view of our destination, Pleasant Bay.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgafoAdCeGoIuoBD17ziE5Xs4nsZ3n7iKQvdBtOlqHjRfuCfPOie1AMgneIHELZ8FRxuQG-mbhvA1tk_KthNGhvU8lFAd-7M7rktG7KLFCu4vUANj_AN2uFevl_vC9Ib6QPuVETu5kFJZk/s1600/IMG_5953.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgafoAdCeGoIuoBD17ziE5Xs4nsZ3n7iKQvdBtOlqHjRfuCfPOie1AMgneIHELZ8FRxuQG-mbhvA1tk_KthNGhvU8lFAd-7M7rktG7KLFCu4vUANj_AN2uFevl_vC9Ib6QPuVETu5kFJZk/s200/IMG_5953.JPG" width="200" /></a>The next day, our challenge was the climb up North Mountain. While not as long a climb as French Mountain, it was much steeper. We felt pretty smug as we cycled past a sign that indicated that the incline was 13 percent. Shortly thereafter, the grade increased to 18 percent and we had to walk our bikes until it went back to a mere 13 percent. At the top, we met several roadies that were also sucking air after their climb. As we all recovered, we shared cycling stories and they offered some suggestions to enhance our upcoming route. Just when we thought that North Mountain gave us “it’s all”, we started down the other side and were shocked by the steep grades. Thankfully, we cycled up the “easy” side but going down the other side was no cake walk.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEjxk8FjTuV-tk9eeavHN-NsjVCR4LmqJGH0iA-QNuAIeUsS7hZfvObq1WSVbJd0NSPMAfA7vY8hEUDCi-D8wuuLMh7GpCCB1Ac-J8VbYkye1sv25aCXp2d8faRHfvXqhCUwRopNjoJIs/s1600/IMG_5961.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEjxk8FjTuV-tk9eeavHN-NsjVCR4LmqJGH0iA-QNuAIeUsS7hZfvObq1WSVbJd0NSPMAfA7vY8hEUDCi-D8wuuLMh7GpCCB1Ac-J8VbYkye1sv25aCXp2d8faRHfvXqhCUwRopNjoJIs/s200/IMG_5961.JPG" width="200" /></a>At the bottom, we had to cycle further to get to our night’s lodging. We followed the signs that indicated our motel was just 3 miles off route in the town of Dingwall. Because we were headed away from civilization, we became skeptical that we were on the right road. It was scenic as we cycled out the peninsula toward the ocean. Just as the paved road ended and before the waves hit us, we found the Markland Beach Cottages. Our log cabin sat on top of a sloping mowed lawn that led to the ocean. As soon as we cleaned up, we headed to the beach. By far this was the best location for a nights lodging (and the cottage was also very nice).
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The Markland has its own restaurant. For dinner we had salads, fresh halibut served with grilled new potatoes, lightly steamed fresh asparagus, and desert. All pastries were made on site and our waitress was also the baker. She recommended the carrot cake and it was great. Afterwards, we were stuffed and took a walk on the beach before retiring. Falling asleep to the waves breaking on the shore was a good way to crash after the day’s steep climbs.
In the morning we had fresh baked pastries, rolls, and biscuits, fresh fruit, hot hard boiled eggs, and coffee. Needless to say, we consumed lots of calories and fats for the start of our ride to the town of Ingonish. <br />
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We had the choice of taking the new Cabot Trail with one large climb and then traveling through the forests or the old Cabot Trail with 2 moderate climbs and mostly coastline views (the route recommended by roadies we met on North Mountain). We chose the old trail which needed repaving but had no traffic. We climbed 2 hills that were easy except for the 3 short 18 percent grades that we had to contend with. About 10 miles out of Ingonish we rejoined the main Cabot Trail.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlLpeFcVFJLZPCu5v-kn-_JkhIn4bRU-O0TUD4Bx7BiR1V6Bd13BdR2w8Jujl4f7FWxjDDstpy347TzpJKLOVCbtyOoNnApazkY1uizUC6y1mBAmtZrJMTfayBdRpDHlfb31Wusv_rUos/s1600/IMG_2643.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlLpeFcVFJLZPCu5v-kn-_JkhIn4bRU-O0TUD4Bx7BiR1V6Bd13BdR2w8Jujl4f7FWxjDDstpy347TzpJKLOVCbtyOoNnApazkY1uizUC6y1mBAmtZrJMTfayBdRpDHlfb31Wusv_rUos/s200/IMG_2643.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
Our final ride took us back to our starting point at Baddeck, where we left Joe’s van. We had only 1 real climb this day. It was up Smoky Mountain, the last of 4 climbs on our clockwise trip around the island. After our climb to the top, we wondered why several cyclists told us that the hill was a terrible climb. Going south our climb was long but relatively gentle. As we started down the other side we remembered that the complaining cyclists were heading north up the other side of Smokey Mountain. Going down was like the first drop on a roller coaster when your stomach ends up in your mouth. It would have even been difficult to walk a bike up this side of the mountain.
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Our last day, was also our longest cycling day, 70 miles. While our cycling was done, we still had a very long drive back to Joe’s home in New York and mine in Virginia. Despite our long drives, it was a wonderful trip and produced great memories and photos that will be enjoyed for a long time.
yellowbiketaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03930267735169346620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8612292389702167581.post-1550536881391567152011-11-18T05:43:00.001-05:002012-04-05T06:40:45.503-04:00Ice Cream and the Pine Creek Trail(Published in SPOKES, April 2012)<br /><br />Photos by Joseph Insalaco<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp3CbdwZmverREhPp57LyBjZ1Vs8ncbJ5QNZTIfclWPWldOIIE7yBB-fMbjnKn0xvL5Ap_uGjkujzNzHWTziG9U0btJrBNb7k88aUB1K1YWD-Al9XwIi0smZmoOQ7PXeSPLNuEtpfTTnQ/s1600/IMG_5387.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp3CbdwZmverREhPp57LyBjZ1Vs8ncbJ5QNZTIfclWPWldOIIE7yBB-fMbjnKn0xvL5Ap_uGjkujzNzHWTziG9U0btJrBNb7k88aUB1K1YWD-Al9XwIi0smZmoOQ7PXeSPLNuEtpfTTnQ/s200/IMG_5387.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676285619448222066" /></a><br /><br />Most cyclists know of the relationship between miles pedaled and ice cream consumption. In fact, it was an ice cream story that introduced me to the Pine Creek Trail. In the spring of 2011, my friend Larry told me about the fantastic ice cream he recently enjoyed. It was only when I asked him where he had this ice cream, did I learn about the fantastic trail ride that led to his dairy delight. <br /><br />Who couldn’t resist ice cream and a great trail? Early in the fall, my friend Joe and I decided to share in Larry’s experiences and drove to the Pine Creek Trail. The trail is located in north central Pennsylvania just northwest of the city of Williamsport. Its northern end starts near the town of Wellsboro and its southern end is in the town of Jersey Shore. The trail is a 60-mile long former railroad right-of-way with a 2% grade on a hard- packed gravel surface. <br /><br />Joe (from New York) and I (from Virginia) met near the middle of the trail at the Cedar Run Inn (www.cedarruninn.com) to start our ride and seek out “the” ice cream. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia6I7ZVkQqGWF9WgN_U91UcsFIo7YhOEG46XfRKhCcJNKE1GOT4pd3pOGWex3WMWoxj8kn4T__2yt32-nR0FrY_V9_-6jSJfOghoMIlx8In_WRMCIoNrMoCX7feanUAGpkPEwH_XWVtQY/s1600/IMG_2195.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia6I7ZVkQqGWF9WgN_U91UcsFIo7YhOEG46XfRKhCcJNKE1GOT4pd3pOGWex3WMWoxj8kn4T__2yt32-nR0FrY_V9_-6jSJfOghoMIlx8In_WRMCIoNrMoCX7feanUAGpkPEwH_XWVtQY/s200/IMG_2195.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676285624088033346" /></a><br /> The Cedar Run Inn, built in 1891, is now a bed and breakfast with 13 guest rooms (some with private baths). The inn is located next to the trail and just across the street from the general store that sold Larry his ice cream. Larry was definitely onto something. When I arrived at the inn, I saw many people with large double scooped cones relaxing from their time on the trail. Joe also was there waiting for me with ice cream in his hand. Besides great ice cream and fine lodging, this location provided us with a great place to watch a bald eagle sore over the creek. The inn is located in the “middle of no where” and offers serenity not found in our normal congested urban living environments. While we did not have cell service, both the inn and general store had payphones—old technology that seems to be disappearing everywhere else but valued at Cedar Run.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip9tmecQWLfmvejk6OIzHLYNZKu8R80_cvVkp3OblyCqZF21H_mMgujjWbZdgEZuIt_VyNqQfFQ2JHikKtgpCDojz8WqDnTNeLmOkQyl2bqeHliniuE_Nw-Lu60hS7JBF6nBElepWxQcg/s1600/IMG_2196.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip9tmecQWLfmvejk6OIzHLYNZKu8R80_cvVkp3OblyCqZF21H_mMgujjWbZdgEZuIt_VyNqQfFQ2JHikKtgpCDojz8WqDnTNeLmOkQyl2bqeHliniuE_Nw-Lu60hS7JBF6nBElepWxQcg/s200/IMG_2196.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676286904176114082" /></a><br /><br /><br />The trail originated as a Native American path that followed Pine Creek. As the area was settled, lumbering became its major industry and by 1840 there were a reported 145 sawmills along the creek. The creek was used to float logs down stream to the saw mills. In the late 1800s, the Jersey Shore, Pine Creek and Buffalo Railway completed laying its tracks and began service along the Native American trail. Primarily, the railway carried lumber from the many sawmills to markets. After a series of reorganizations, the railroad along Pine Creek became part of the New York Central Railroad and eventually Conrail. Freight and passenger service continued until 1988 when Conrail ended rail service along Pine Creek. The tracks were eventually removed and the first section of the Pine Creek Rail Trail opened in 1996. The trail was completed in stages with the most recent section (from Ansonia to just north of Wellsboro) being completed in 2007. The trail is operated by the Pennsylvania Department of Conservation and Natural Resources. <br /><br />While the Cedar Run Inn is near the center of the trail, we decided to cycle the trail from end to end. To get to the northern end of the trail we cycled northeast from Cedar Run via state route 414 to the town of Morris then headed north on state route 287. Route 414 had no shoulder but was virtually deserted. Route 287 had traffic but a reasonable shoulder. We could have avoided route 287 by cycling Stony Fork Road. Stony Fork Road was clearly visible on the other side of a wide and knee deep creek along route 414. However, these roads were not connected by a bridge. To get to the Stony Fork Road we would have had to carry our bikes through the stream. Afterwards, we anticipated several steep climbs on this route.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNXGj5nk7EcSaKm8DuXdEY3yV9d0LOYJaIvD_H9ML7pR5D-6lJZEClaN2RRbNETDGFvyLZozdNMe4CkGLjJaCzV4FlLeZwXyK4VBDAJ8AHVLpc0dAnZ5v1KIHs-L1hRzTJGynz6KTeT8Y/s1600/IMG_2206.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNXGj5nk7EcSaKm8DuXdEY3yV9d0LOYJaIvD_H9ML7pR5D-6lJZEClaN2RRbNETDGFvyLZozdNMe4CkGLjJaCzV4FlLeZwXyK4VBDAJ8AHVLpc0dAnZ5v1KIHs-L1hRzTJGynz6KTeT8Y/s200/IMG_2206.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676286907876254514" /></a><br /><br /><br />We still had a long, but relatively easy climb on route 287 to get to the town of Wellsboro. Just south of Wellsboro, at the top of the mountain, we stopped at William Schlegel’s studio. Mr. Schlegel is a wood sculptor/carver. He gave us a tour of his studio and showed us his current carved animal projects including a bear, beaver, and an eagle. He starts his wood carvings with a chain saw and then uses a small hand tool for the finish work.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7_zOtQ8gUM_xGi7qdZX5XhFHQE9XlalmQX4-y-4W0sO2q47Fr69PP4TP47PlQFfvQNjW_e6LibFhVNGIOrQqGkASckUXXNUuyEsxstMUqbwZRt-Uw2EnoSFpXnFpHLO2kKhjLMoiSeVs/s1600/IMG_5421.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7_zOtQ8gUM_xGi7qdZX5XhFHQE9XlalmQX4-y-4W0sO2q47Fr69PP4TP47PlQFfvQNjW_e6LibFhVNGIOrQqGkASckUXXNUuyEsxstMUqbwZRt-Uw2EnoSFpXnFpHLO2kKhjLMoiSeVs/s200/IMG_5421.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676288875251799538" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Leaving Mr. Schlegel’s studio, we had a 2.5 mile drop into the small but vibrant town of Wellsboro. The town founded in the early 1800s has a population of just over 3,000. Despite its small population, its downtown is lively with many shops, motels, and places to eat. We ate lunch at the historic Wellsboro Diner. This restaurant is an authentic diner dating from 1939. While the diner was old, its food was great with home made soups, pies, and cookies…we tried all 3. Wellsboro also offers a bike shop and several outfitters that rent bikes, canoes, and kayaks. We had planned to kayak on Pine Creek but were told that the creek’s water level was too low. The outfitter suggested that we come back in the early spring when water levels offer great kayaking. Also, just a few miles from Wellsboro is one of Pennsylvania’s largest wetland complexes called “The Muck” that offers bird observation blinds that are open year round. In addition, Pine Creek is a very popular place for fly fishing. <br /><br /><br />Leaving Wellsboro we headed north on route 6 to the Pine Creek’s northern trail head. Across the road from the trail head we first stopped at the Tioga Central Railroad (www.tiogacentral.com) which operates on a right-of-way that dates to 1840. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnYYybj9O9JIz8R25zqg3CHrlvIJAidlpUR6QqE_ysyKqCD3j3eAwRCCiGZ9Xo0QxWN_Db9N8x_iI31gBDPN2-uTTbOUaiH4rLuU9PQ6BRTExZZVmrGqPHqwvnv-xze4-fVTby2FoHxiE/s1600/IMG_2218.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnYYybj9O9JIz8R25zqg3CHrlvIJAidlpUR6QqE_ysyKqCD3j3eAwRCCiGZ9Xo0QxWN_Db9N8x_iI31gBDPN2-uTTbOUaiH4rLuU9PQ6BRTExZZVmrGqPHqwvnv-xze4-fVTby2FoHxiE/s200/IMG_2218.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676288000086971634" /></a><br />The railroad offers excursions on vintage rail cars. There was also a restaurant at the trail head…the only place to eat along the trail until you reach Cedar Run. (If planning to cycle the trail note that the Cedar Run Inn only serves food on the weekends and the country store is also open only on the weekends. To obtain food during the week you will need to cycle 5 miles further south to Slate Run.) <br /><br />Cycling was easy on the trail’s hard packed gravel surface. We quickly left civilization as the trail meandered through marshes and farm lands and headed into the Pine Creek Gorge. The glacially-carved gorge is about 12 miles from the trail’s northern terminus. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLcX9D0KTEMLn_L1yfTd1dCnLsTQp8NiCXoVr4JalIEGeAB88BXi5Ylzx5wMfwOzQ8XAvJcTYQo8NVTuEpZkJaStTdPATP6p3qhe9xQXdgsgM6gaLsQ0RisgPkia-FEELwFAapjE8NRAg/s1600/IMG_2224.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLcX9D0KTEMLn_L1yfTd1dCnLsTQp8NiCXoVr4JalIEGeAB88BXi5Ylzx5wMfwOzQ8XAvJcTYQo8NVTuEpZkJaStTdPATP6p3qhe9xQXdgsgM6gaLsQ0RisgPkia-FEELwFAapjE8NRAg/s200/IMG_2224.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676288001810587138" /></a><br /> The northern section of the gorge is known as the Grand Canyon of Pennsylvania. After visiting the Nation’s Grand Canyon in Arizona, I would not use the term “grand canyon” to describe this gorge. However, it is a wonderful gorge in a narrow valley with only the trail and creek on its floor. Both sides of the valley are steep, tree covered hills. The deepest point of the gorge is 1,450 feet and while it is mostly narrow, one part does spread out to nearly 1 mile in width. As we cycled through this narrow valley, we enjoyed the creek and we wondered how the gorge would look in just a few weeks as the leaves took on their fall colors and how the creek would look in the spring when it flow increases dramatically. <br /><br />Access to the gorge appeared to be limited. While we did not see any roads or parking lots, the Department of Conservation and Natural Resources’ map shows 2 roads entering the park from the north and east. We did share the trail with horse pulling 2 Conestoga wagons. These wagons offered a great way to experience the gorge and were full of tourists. Each wagon had a narrator describing the areas history and resources. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwZaG1Sq6wzOd6-HMTrP7iWFkOBgbl3Et2cEqNiy20-l1sON3Vubc1PgrpBK2t883PmSEBMAsmdSRxzt6N5Ge2BYClD04163vsemV2TbFtyIEkPov_XCpnPzylU9gorZH6IJolNdD3RyY/s1600/IMG_2229.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwZaG1Sq6wzOd6-HMTrP7iWFkOBgbl3Et2cEqNiy20-l1sON3Vubc1PgrpBK2t883PmSEBMAsmdSRxzt6N5Ge2BYClD04163vsemV2TbFtyIEkPov_XCpnPzylU9gorZH6IJolNdD3RyY/s200/IMG_2229.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676288879695464690" /></a><br /><br />Since we were cycling on a weekday and the weather was overcast, we saw only a few other trail users on the northern section. We saw several day hikers and 2 cyclists with heavily loaded bikes on what appeared to be a long journey. We talked to a couple cycling on their tandem. They were going in the same direction but were much faster than us. While they both have cycled across the United States on their tandem, he has crossed the country 5 other times on his road bike. No matter how many trips Joe and I take, we find someone who makes our adventures seem like trips around the block. We also met a park ranger who told us we just missed 2 black bears that crossed the trail seconds before we rounded the bend to his location. Earlier, I saw a black bear from the safety of my car and was not too disappointed in not seeing bears while we were on our bikes. However, Joe is always looking for a great photo opportunity and was disappointed in missing the bears. The ranger also told us that camping is allowed in the park and during the spring and summer the trail and creek are used by bikers, hikers, equestrians, canoeists and kayakers. <br /><br />Heading south below Cedar Run, the trail is closer to public roads and goes through several areas that are more developed (but still very rural). On my Sunday drive to Cedar Run, this section of the trail was very busy with many cyclists and walkers. However, today it was deserted. <br /><br />About 5 miles south of Cedar Run is Slate Run which also has lodging and food at the Hotel Manor (www.hotel-manor.com) and is open during the week. The 10-room hotel was built in 2004 to replace the original logging era hotel that was destroyed by a fire. We stopped there to eat. Talking to our waitress we expressed our frustration over the lack of cell phone coverage. She told us that we should cross the road and stand in Bill’s driveway where we would find a cellular sweet spot. While we did not know Bill, there was only one home across the road. So after filling our caloric needs, we crossed the road and used our cell phones in Bill’s driveway. (I wonder if this is why the chicken crossed the road.)<br /><br />Continuing south, the next town is Waterville, about 18 miles further down the trail from Cedar Run. Waterville also offers lodging, food and a great side trip up to Little Pine State Park. This park offers lodging in campgrounds, cottages, and yurts. Little Pine Lake in the heart of the park offers swimming, fishing, and boating. Additional camping on the southern part of the trail is allowed at Bonell Flats and Black Walnut Bottom. <br /><br />The trail’s southern terminus is in the town of Jersey Shore located along the West Branch of the Susquehanna River. This town dates back to the late 1700s but did not get its current name until 1826. Originally the town was named Waynesburg but was frequently referred to as Jersey Shore. According to Wikipedia, one of the original founders had relocated from New Jersey and settled on the western shore of the Susquehanna. Thus the nickname Jersey’s shore eventually became so fixed that in 1826 the town’s name was officially changed. In the town of about 5,000 people, we found a great Italian restaurant to celebrate the trip.<br /><br />Joe lives in New York and I live in Virginia and we both had to travel about 250 miles to get to the Pine Creek Trail. A week before our trip, the 10-day weather forecast indicated that we would have sunny days with temperatures in the low 70s. The closer we got to the start of our trip the weather forecast changed from sunny days to rainy days. The day we drove to Pine Creek we had the promised sunshine. The next day it was overcast and cool and the second day the rain came. However, it was still a great trip and I look forward to going back and spending more time exploring the Pine Creek area. <br /><br />A postscript on the ice cream is required. After returning from Pike Creek, I talked to Larry, my ice cream loving friend. When I described our trip and the Cedar Run ice cream stop, Larry’s face took on a puzzled look. He said that he was having second thoughts on where he had that great ice cream and it may have been at Waterville or near Wellsboro. He revealed that he made several ice cream stops on or near the trail and while he could not remember which ice cream was the best, he did conclude that “the one I am currently eating is always the best ice cream ever.”yellowbiketaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03930267735169346620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8612292389702167581.post-61377229231561651142011-09-13T11:59:00.000-04:002011-09-13T13:21:06.275-04:00The Great River Road<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhltY1rWm1gG9v6PK1yAxwoDoje6hMnHMscdDAEczz_PxgnAfXWpzFhm8PV5UfwotZL5ETl5nI0H8tHwNJcGYl9WTojSdAIOj5ao4kDw4F7XnTcHQDPlSstd8DJ6fTFc0YYqYh4yocakoM/s1600/IMG_2017.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhltY1rWm1gG9v6PK1yAxwoDoje6hMnHMscdDAEczz_PxgnAfXWpzFhm8PV5UfwotZL5ETl5nI0H8tHwNJcGYl9WTojSdAIOj5ao4kDw4F7XnTcHQDPlSstd8DJ6fTFc0YYqYh4yocakoM/s200/IMG_2017.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651879903282522578" /></a><br />Photos by Joseph Insalaco<br /><br />It is difficult to think of the Mississippi River other than as a wide fast-moving torrent with locks and dams that allow long strings of barges and tugs to carry the Nation’s wealth. While it is mostly this, the River does have humble origins in northern Minnesota. Appropriately, that is where our journey began—in the little stream that emerged from Lake Itasca and is considered the birthplace of the Mississippi. There, Joe and I stood in its waters and enjoyed the calming sound of shallow water flowing over rocks. As we traveled south, we passed through many wonderful river towns dating to the 1800s, met some really nice people, and watched the river grow into the Mighty Muddy that we all know. <br /><br /><strong>OUR ROUTE</strong><br />The Mississippi River Road is a network of roads complied in the late 1930s as a scenic car route. While many of these roads are bicycling friendly, in 2008 Bob Robinson published a guide specifically for bicycle travel, “Bicycling Guide to the Mississippi River Trail: A Complete Route Guide along the Mississippi River.” This guide provides bicycle friendly roads and bike trails on both sides of the river giving the cyclist many travel options. As best laid plans go, our planned route changed several times as we headed south. Our journey from Bemidji to St. Louis totaled 1,200 miles and was completed in 21 consecutive days of cycling. Our daily journal, detailed route, mileage, weather, and photographs can be found on our trip blog (http://greatriverride2011.blogspot.com/).<br /><br />Looking at a map, I see the Mississippi River as a north-south blue line bisecting the country. However, from its headwaters the river first heads northeast to within a 100 miles of Canada before turning south. About half our trip was spent cycling through Minnesota and the other half cycling through parts of Wisconsin, Iowa, Illinois, and Missouri.<br /><br />Minnesota’s route was over gently rolling terrain with an overall drop in elevation of just a few hundred feet. In Minnesota we were mostly on rural roads and bike trails but yet our routes took us through many good sized towns. For example, between Grand Rapids and Palisade we cycled for 50 miles on scenic, but desolate roads with no traffic or services. Some days we had miles of trail that took us off the roads and closer to the river. Our 70 mile ride to St Paul, Minnesota included over 30 miles of bike trails. <br /><br />After Minnesota, we planned to cycle through Iowa (skipping Wisconsin) and Illinois before finishing in St. Louis, Missouri. However, we changed our plans several times. Before leaving Wabasha, Minnesota we stopped at the Eagle Nest Café for breakfast where we met Mel, one of the Café regulars. He said that the Wisconsin side of the river offered a much nicer ride for the next two days. Using his computer, Mel showed the Wisconsin route and the other café patrons agreed with his suggestion. Crossing over the Mississippi River we left Minnesota for a great ride on Wisconsin’s 2 lane roads with minimal traffic that took us to La Crosse. We spent another day in Wisconsin and cycled to the town of Prairie Du Chien. Generally these roads were flat with good shoulders and overlooked the river. <br /><br />From Prairie Du Chien, Wisconsin we crossed the Mississippi into Iowa. We quickly learned why Iowa has a reputation for tough climbs. For a short distance we cycled along the river then climbed our first bluff. After cycling on the bluff, the road dropped back down to the river. Then we had another climb. While the climbs were not long, they were steep and we climbed and dropped 6 times as we headed to Dubuque, Iowa. <br /><br />To avoid more of Iowa’s climbs we changed our route from Dubuque and headed into Illinois earlier than planned. From Galena, Illinois we headed south along the river on country roads to Savanna, Illinois and the next day Rock Island, Illinois before heading back into Iowa. Our final route change occurred when we could not find lodging in Pleasant Hill, Illinois and had to cross the river to spend the night in the town of Louisiana, Missouri. From there we cycled 70 miles to Grafton, Illinois and the next day crossed the Mississippi River into Missouri for our final ride into St. Louis.<br /><br /><strong>IT WAS NOT ALL ABOUT THE BIKE</strong><br />For me, a cycling adventure is more than just miles, routes, and terrain. I also enjoy exploring towns and stopping at anything that seems interesting. From the smallest towns to the largest cities our route offered many unique points of interest.<br /><br />Bemidji, Minnesota, the first city on the Mississippi River, is an Indian name meaning “the river runs through it.” The town lies 32 miles northeast of the River’s headwaters at Lake Itasca State Park. After a round trip ride to the Park, we visited Bemidji’s famous icons—Paul Bunyan and Babe, his blue ox companion. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6034V5gY9y17QMoBXlpoXuPsaT1AhJfWEMldkklGD5SSDB4Levj_Vj0ToUP5WQ91s1987s1ZS9Jf-D9uc3-kC-ksZz_7bCKIjKdw-DWnUv0g3PdWFnjzko917THvGiQ6j7YGkw2Bmxok/s1600/IMG_2001.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6034V5gY9y17QMoBXlpoXuPsaT1AhJfWEMldkklGD5SSDB4Levj_Vj0ToUP5WQ91s1987s1ZS9Jf-D9uc3-kC-ksZz_7bCKIjKdw-DWnUv0g3PdWFnjzko917THvGiQ6j7YGkw2Bmxok/s200/IMG_2001.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651882578806825746" /></a><br />These monstrous statues stood near center city. We also walked around the downtown enjoying the town’s “art walk” and historic district.<br /><br />Near Grand Rapids, Minnesota we spent several hours at the Forest History Center, a recreated turn-of-the-century logging camp. There we enjoyed the center’s museum and immersed ourselves into the logging camp. The camp was staffed by docents in <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgizjCHOTVMJu9DfajD-P4PxnChstdMpPl6ODVTk6hXmwnEVLEMyJ-t0cDey6AXltpIdOXnEPfw2xyfGJg9hEu2hg2aH1NC_tJYC0x_vdjv4HNBObkDM4x5yZ9z320BajS_0Zj20K6d3jE/s1600/IMG_5089.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgizjCHOTVMJu9DfajD-P4PxnChstdMpPl6ODVTk6hXmwnEVLEMyJ-t0cDey6AXltpIdOXnEPfw2xyfGJg9hEu2hg2aH1NC_tJYC0x_vdjv4HNBObkDM4x5yZ9z320BajS_0Zj20K6d3jE/s200/IMG_5089.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651885868632679602" /></a><br />period costumes including a blacksmith, saw filer, clerk, cook and lumberjacks who demonstrated logging techniques, described life in a logging camp, sang and played music, and told period stories.<br /><br />In St. Paul, Minnesota we stopped at the historic flour mill in the heart of the downtown. Initially, we focused on the mill and the large Grain Belt Beer sign across the river but soon got diverted when we met Bill, a Segway tour leader. .<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivavJYBS6oQOP6e-a-dkqgzN3yC-a9NW83IAxx664No6oRscnlezK8iPm9tKpFdJNJ2GWM-I9MSS2hgO1aTNcqcLvM1UBTYo3jsa1gnNjVnKaSR6mBJE7EoXtz6RRi-UkZjippL3VqF_E/s1600/IMG_2049.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivavJYBS6oQOP6e-a-dkqgzN3yC-a9NW83IAxx664No6oRscnlezK8iPm9tKpFdJNJ2GWM-I9MSS2hgO1aTNcqcLvM1UBTYo3jsa1gnNjVnKaSR6mBJE7EoXtz6RRi-UkZjippL3VqF_E/s200/IMG_2049.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651882587533103154" /></a><br />After his group passed, Bill let us ride his Segway along the bike path allowing us to fantasize about replacing our bikes with these fun machines. <br /><br />Wabasha, a small town near the southern end of Minnesota of our river route was a place not to miss. The town has maintained its historic character but also has a modern resort distinction. In addition, the town hosts the National Eagle Center where we participated in its educational program. Not only did the Center show us several different injured eagles undergoing rehabilitation, we also saw eagles in their natural habitat flying above the river. One of the town’s “claims to fame” is that the 1993 movie “Grumpy Old Men” and the 1995 movie “Grumpier Old Men” were based in Wabasha. Before leaving Wabasha, we stopped at the Eagle Nest Café for breakfast. We asked the patrons about the movies. They said the story was set in Wabasha but filmed elsewhere. With some bitterness, one man concluded that “the film people found a town that looked more like Wabasha than Wabasha.”<br /><br />To get to Dubuque, Iowa, we cycled some tough rollers. Once there we found a better way to climb a hill. In 1882 a rich banker wanted to go home for lunch but the buggy ride took too long to go around the hill and up to his home on the buff overlooking the town. The banker solved this problem by building a private incline railway. This tourist railway is now called the Fenelon Place Elevator Company and provided us our easiest climb of the day. <br /><br />Near the end of our travel in Illinois, we noticed many barns with large quilt <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9I1-mAE61xdJypXGlAPMT3IKRrl_6-bfGc64l1HRypqqxT_TNmTEEYt1CNKV4d3ln1evH0youtoQwNP_vZ_A3rhpvxR2vTsiK15Q1C-PZ18qWCtYyK99EkgrfreJs9jbvqn4vmDxT9Zw/s1600/IMG_2084.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9I1-mAE61xdJypXGlAPMT3IKRrl_6-bfGc64l1HRypqqxT_TNmTEEYt1CNKV4d3ln1evH0youtoQwNP_vZ_A3rhpvxR2vTsiK15Q1C-PZ18qWCtYyK99EkgrfreJs9jbvqn4vmDxT9Zw/s200/IMG_2084.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651890119526730754" /></a><br />patches painted on them. An internet search revealed that they were part of a barn quilt project. We liked them and found ourselves stopping at each barn to take pictures and admire the many different patterns.<br /><br /><strong>MEETING PEOPLE</strong><br />We met many wonderful people as we headed south. Some of them became extra special because of their help, an offered smile, or just their desire to welcome us into their lives for a little bit. <br /><br />For example, one of those wonderful people owned the Gosh Dam Place Motel (near Deer River Minnesota). Getting to the Gosh Dam Motel we had to cycle 12 miles off the highway on some very rural roads. We missed some significant clues along the way that would have had us call ahead for reservations or make alternative plans. Numerous trucks passed us, all pulling boats. When we got near the motel we saw a large lake surrounded by packed campgrounds, RV parks, and cabins. The motel’s parking lot was also crowded with pickup trucks. In our defense, neither of us fish nor knew that it was fishing season. We entered the packed bar attached to the motel and asked Linda, the owner, for a room. Despite being swamped serving customers, she did not laugh but rather made reservations for us at a motel 12 miles away. Linda was our trip’s first trail angel. <br /><br />On the morning we met Babe, we wondered if we looked malnourished, in need of mothering, or if we were just charmers. We stopped for breakfast at the Roadside Family Restaurant in Aitkin. There Babe, our waitress, took charge of our meals. We both wanted the breakfast special—one pancake, one egg, and two slices of bacon.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_5NHyjQy2fvS6D-uQ5P1OlJKj1bN7NdfYbPn2wODZwSHOJoIHkqjKgAbf8-WJEEck7FCF2enZAjcR7qhS6ayDBSsfr6cwnDyUEIzYyC9CvPFO_OFdd2nuvwfTsn5mp4h4symb4Hjmj8Q/s1600/IMG_5232+ORG.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_5NHyjQy2fvS6D-uQ5P1OlJKj1bN7NdfYbPn2wODZwSHOJoIHkqjKgAbf8-WJEEck7FCF2enZAjcR7qhS6ayDBSsfr6cwnDyUEIzYyC9CvPFO_OFdd2nuvwfTsn5mp4h4symb4Hjmj8Q/s200/IMG_5232+ORG.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651887036554093234" /></a><br /> Babe did not think that was enough food for “two hungry bikers” and told the cook to make our blueberry pancakes extra large. Our one pancake extended far beyond the plate and was half an inch thick requiring us to eat it starting from the center. Before leaving, she insisted that we also take 2 of her huge fresh baked cinnamon buns. We each ate most of our pancake and took the buns for lunch. <br /><br />At another breakfast stop we met more wonderful people. Arriving in Burlington, Iowa mid-morning, we expected to have a choice of breakfast places. In its downtown we asked several people where to eat and the best that was offered was either the gas station or a 2 mile ride out to the highway where we were told there were many places to eat. With a heavy heart we parked our bikes at the gas station. There we met a man who told us that “Jerry’s Diner, a very little place, was only 2 blocks further on our route.” <br /><br />So we headed off to Jerry’s Diner which was actually 8 blocks away and not very visible. Jerry’s was truly a small place with only 10 stools at the counter and no tables. We squeezed in and were welcomed by Michele, the cook, and several of the customers. Michele had the warmest smile and a twinkle in her eyes that made us feel extra special. Even though we were hungry and our objectivity may be questioned, the food was fantastic. The price of our breakfast was also amazing: two eggs, coffee and one very large pancake was only $3.50.<br /><br /><strong>ALL GOOD THINGS MUST END</strong><br />Our route on the next to the last day took us over the Illinois River to Grafton, Illinois. To cross the river we took a ferry which was the same ferry we used two years earlier when we cycled west following the Lewis and Clark route. Another coincidence was our repeat stay in the historic Ruebel Hotel in Grafton. This was our next to last night on this trip and 2 years ago our second night was at the same hotel and same room.<br /><br />Before starting our ride into Grafton, we set a goal of cycling 70 miles and arriving at our hotel by 11 a.m. Despite the many hills, food stops, flooded routes, and photo opportunities we made it into town by 11 o’clock. However, our actual mileage was 2 miles short of our goal.<br /><br />We expected an easy ride for our triumphant entrance into St. Louis, Missouri. However, the day was anything but easy. Because of predicted early morning thundershowers we delayed our start until 6 a.m. (that was a late morning for us). Before leaving Grafton, Ilinois we had fresh doughnuts and coffee at Kim’s Bakery. About 8 miles into our ride the sky got black, lighting danced just to our west, and Joe let out an ungodly shriek. On the last day of our ride and in the worst weather, Joe had his first flat tire. (My 3 flat tires were all on deserted roads during nice weather.) No sooner did he get off his bike than the sky opened up and we got drenched. Once we got back on our bikes we cycled another mile and found shelter at an abandoned gas station. When the storm abated, we headed out again on a bike trail. However, the bike trail was so flooded that when our pedals were in the down position, our feet were underwater. <br /><br />We arrived in the town of Afton, Illinois where we had a short breakfast stop as the weather began to clear. From there we cycled on the levee with an asphalt trail. Eventually, the asphalt turned into gravel. Just when we thought that things were going great, the gravel ended and we sank into mud. It was so soft and sticky that we could not move. Mud was packed between the wheels and fenders and the wheels would not turn. The mud was so deep and thick that bikes stood by themselves. In addition when we lifted our feet, we had a ton of mud on them. With great effort we drug our bikes off the trail and onto the grass embankment. Instead of cycling the “Mighty Muddy” we became the less-mighty and very muddy. The muddy section was about 100 yards long so we had to push our bikes along the levee’s steep embankment before crossing the Mississippi River into Missouri. <br /><br />We were filthy and would have welcomed a rain shower as we pedalled our final miles into St. Louis. While it did not rain we did get a slight head wind. Joe, the optimist, said that a head wind was good because it dried our clothes. This is the same friend who during the earlier lightening storm commented that it was great that he was cycling with someone taller than him. As our journey ended, we talked about our next adventure and I contemplated raising Joe’s bike seat to make him taller.yellowbiketaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03930267735169346620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8612292389702167581.post-2186352295543367152010-07-13T06:51:00.000-04:002011-06-17T05:53:34.542-04:00VIRGINIA’S CROOKED ROAD<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit8717KO9s_4AtSUIpwI-ZAmlXiJQBNq9LqrhWlbUFColD4Qz4abXPzVaurmty2aeXgJYrCeJo9l6UkB6D5ryUuf0GfknqEKEg5XWgPFT_ms0oW1Bnx7VGtqDY93Mk-PbcWa3kwNXqEuo/s1600/IMG_1819.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit8717KO9s_4AtSUIpwI-ZAmlXiJQBNq9LqrhWlbUFColD4Qz4abXPzVaurmty2aeXgJYrCeJo9l6UkB6D5ryUuf0GfknqEKEg5XWgPFT_ms0oW1Bnx7VGtqDY93Mk-PbcWa3kwNXqEuo/s200/IMG_1819.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493348042404446690" /></a><br />(Published in SPOKES, June 2011)<br /><br />Photos by Joseph Insalaco<br /><br />The Crooked Road is Virginia’s Heritage Music Trail that celebrates the roots of American Mountain Music. It meanders 400 miles through the southwestern part of the state (http://www.thecrookedroad.org/) between Rocky Mount and The Breaks Interstate Park. The road goes through wonderful towns, provides many sites to experience great music, and allows interaction with interesting people. The road is also very challenging for cyclists with its difficult climbs and fast downhill rides.<br /><br />We started our journey in Pikeville, Kentucky, just west of the Breaks Park. Initially we planned to follow the Crooked Road highways identified on their webpage. Doing so, the first day’s cycling would have been 76 miles on some very busy highways with nearly 10,000 feet of climbing. Subsequent days would also be spent on some very busy roads. Once the reality of highway route set in we devised a more bike friendly one. Our bike route and elevations can be found on our trip blog (http://crookedroadtour.blogspot.com/). Our route took us to all of the Crooked Road stops except the Breaks Park. While the park is wonderful, Joe, my cycling companion and I had cycled to the park and camped in it during our cross country bike trip in 2002. The park’s main feature, Breaks Canyon, is five miles long and ranges from 830 feet to 1,600 feet deep; earning it the name of “Grand Canyon of the South.” <br /><br />Leaving Pikeville early, we missed the morning traffic. Just outside of town we <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqBnj3_aff7k-jq-Z53CGMvsOd38f0lhbVF-rstOskVZxnZOIUziZfnoRHYkdi6w2twKUP9vJT7oPVEzYHSaOmrXhLDmcH_9_2naQ8SoIkniDUZu4vjGDsK1A0UAxmAOE14COahmWvpKE/s1600/IMG_1761.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqBnj3_aff7k-jq-Z53CGMvsOd38f0lhbVF-rstOskVZxnZOIUziZfnoRHYkdi6w2twKUP9vJT7oPVEzYHSaOmrXhLDmcH_9_2naQ8SoIkniDUZu4vjGDsK1A0UAxmAOE14COahmWvpKE/s200/IMG_1761.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493348835121421522" /></a><br />cycled 7 miles on a deserted one lane country road. After this, we transitioned to a major highway with a wide shoulder that lasted us until we got to Virginia (30 miles into our day). During the day we had some great down hill rides and several serious climbs. However, the only one that was challenging was the last one up to the town of Wise. We were tired and the climb seemed like it would not end. Our first cycling day turned out to be "only" 47 miles and we climbed "only" 5,000 feet. With temperatures that exceeded 90 degrees we were thankful that we did not follow the car route through Breaks Park.<br /> <br />Our route for the second day avoided cycling 47 miles on route US 23 that goes directly from Wise to Gate City. However, avoiding traffic on roads without shoulders had its consequences. We chose to cycle 39 miles on country roads. Less mileage over country roads sounds like a “no brainer”, except for the added climb. The first few miles out of Wise we had a nice downhill and averaged 25 mph. In the town of Norton we got on route 619 which turned into a climb of 2,000 feet over 4 miles to the top of High Knob Hill. Once we got to the top, we looked forward to a wonderful and long down hill ride. However, the asphalt road ended and we had to traverse down a steep gravel road. While that may not have been so bad, a torrential downpour started and the gravel turned to mud and then the mud turned into a river. We were “white water biking” as our brake pads deteriorated and our rims got too hot to touch. <br /><br />Surviving that down hill, we arrived at a smooth asphalt road where we were cycling at 20 mph for about 7 miles. Eventually we had to climb 3 more hills (all 10% grades) but with adequate shoulders and minimal traffic. <br /><br />Arriving in Gate City, we had a fast descent but came to a quick stop where town folks lined the road. We stopped and were congratulated for being the first to complete the Clinch Mountain Challenge Bike Race. We smiled and explained that we were on loaded touring bikes and not racers. However, we did accept offered bananas, trail bars, and friendly conversation.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiveabRpDUW4y-46m5a80tQ4lcCtuajlFl_9Y_MyrVEb5F1Tz-wCRa2-0OX_43Xgj5TxwLFWhOQh1WhLZTQWOWHcOO9rgPtCBvQSoLgYW46m4vzwFG41Q_jYhzO4QCpqgd0v5ny9643qLw/s1600/IMG_4122.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiveabRpDUW4y-46m5a80tQ4lcCtuajlFl_9Y_MyrVEb5F1Tz-wCRa2-0OX_43Xgj5TxwLFWhOQh1WhLZTQWOWHcOO9rgPtCBvQSoLgYW46m4vzwFG41Q_jYhzO4QCpqgd0v5ny9643qLw/s200/IMG_4122.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493354002927823266" /></a><br /><br /><br />The bike race was not the only attraction in Gate City that day. The town’s main street was closed to traffic for the 5th annual Clinch Mountain Music Festival.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQatTHgdj-8HbXMwGG_4dc9uRICrK4jNSAHTadjDaFLmaIq8ZQriIeTLBpkJklL3ati2-f5WEqDMil9juQtJSwoDfXbgSwMPMhawjWs1PacE3IA3tWP-8tIvsMTl1D1fyKNYeggX0qRnU/s1600/IMG_1776.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQatTHgdj-8HbXMwGG_4dc9uRICrK4jNSAHTadjDaFLmaIq8ZQriIeTLBpkJklL3ati2-f5WEqDMil9juQtJSwoDfXbgSwMPMhawjWs1PacE3IA3tWP-8tIvsMTl1D1fyKNYeggX0qRnU/s200/IMG_1776.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493350386606470018" /></a><br /> A stage was at one end of the main street and vendor tents extended for several blocks. Despite being soaked to the bone, we were cheered to spend the afternoon listening to numerous country groups (including Papa Joe Smiddy and the Scott County Boys), talking to other spectators, eating excellent food (and getting rained on several more times). <br /><br />Even though the town was focused on its music festival, many people took time to greet us and make us feel welcome. The town’s bike shop provided us new brake pads and Tom and Martha (festival volunteers) offered to put us up for the night. Check out the link to our photos on our travel blog and watch the video of some of the musicians and dancers--especially Carl Wooten doing a dance called Flat Footin’.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioEiJZ4ABWudjHsIRFlxMJVm3bjvdUzXnYX4ws2clWtwzrBsnBpxg_YtpOpvQzRn_-JvXgsPaCxfyJWgAhP4J9stWBkYhpjMreVvHXmiLKgh6qLqLlOuPXhdb6cOGxx0VvCX7BT8rLsO0/s1600/IMG_4143.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioEiJZ4ABWudjHsIRFlxMJVm3bjvdUzXnYX4ws2clWtwzrBsnBpxg_YtpOpvQzRn_-JvXgsPaCxfyJWgAhP4J9stWBkYhpjMreVvHXmiLKgh6qLqLlOuPXhdb6cOGxx0VvCX7BT8rLsO0/s200/IMG_4143.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493354018215787186" /></a><br /><br /><br />Since Gate City did not have a hotel we cycled 5 miles south to Kingsport, Tennessee for the night. If we had not had guaranteed reservations, we would have accepted the offer to stay in Gate City. We were also told that if we had contacted the local chamber of commerce we would have been given a list of homes that host visitors for the night.<br /><br />We left Kingsport early and headed toward a Virginia country road that took us eastward to Damascus, 62 miles away. The first 36 miles were relatively flat with some minor rolling hills and no traffic. Along the way we stopped at A.P. Carter’s birthplace cabin and country store and the Carter Family Fold (a music theater where only acoustic instruments are played). On this section we averaged 14 mph under cloudy, but dry skies. After this, we had an 8 mile trek on a 4 lane highway with a shoulder (small but adequate) as we climbed 700 feet to the town of Abingdon. During this climb, we experienced our first rain shower of the day. <br /><br />Cycling down the main street in Abingdon, it appeared that everything was closed for Sunday. We expected to go without lunch and headed for the Virginia Creeper Trail that would take us on our final leg to Damascus. However, near the trail head we found the Trail Café and enjoyed its excellent food and hospitality.<br /><br />The Creeper Trail, with a slight downhill grade, took us 17 miles to Damascus. The Virginia Creeper Trail began as a Native American foot path and by 1900 it became a railroad right-of-way. Going to Damascus, we cycled just half of the trail. (The trail extends 17 more miles beyond Damascus to the North Carolina border.) <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJxSs42S8s25Mg_eSti34GGnkPQ4YOTK6CV1YBNw7MS2gFZQuo3upqMa_Qd2L0NsjQaF1rDkm8x1FIvZs64jJ8poYKMzsawrABBDdNcUeWQQzDequhmHJ9k7yDxXfz_fxn97RuBAWNRls/s1600/IMG_1803.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJxSs42S8s25Mg_eSti34GGnkPQ4YOTK6CV1YBNw7MS2gFZQuo3upqMa_Qd2L0NsjQaF1rDkm8x1FIvZs64jJ8poYKMzsawrABBDdNcUeWQQzDequhmHJ9k7yDxXfz_fxn97RuBAWNRls/s200/IMG_1803.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493350376489750882" /></a><br /><br />We were rained on several times as we cycled on the Trail but enjoyed our traffic free ride. The rain did not deter other trail users either and we all shared a muddy veneer. Near Damascus we saw a sign for a winery and took a side trip. The tasting was fun and Joe purchased a bottle of wine for “later”. <br />Damascus is a small, but important town in the Blue Ridge Mountains. It is the gateway to the Mount Rogers National Recreation Area and is traversed by the Appalachian Trail, the Virginia Creeper Trail, the Trans-America National Bicycle Trail, the Iron Mountain Trail, the Daniel Boone Heritage Trail, the Crooked Road Musical Heritage Trail, and Virginia's Birding and Wildlife Trail.<br /><br />We stayed at the Mountain Laurel Inn, a historic B&B that was built between 1901 and 1903. Innkeepers, Jim and Nathalie Graham, welcomed us to their Queen Anne Victorian home with a grand tour and introduction to the other guests. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf_Io55k4hYU5ne3isKqq6cJbz48Xi9BWIYDHMkXRmZRtrJzVZY0hyphenhyphenRHGVSy83FPds-KQx7FTQwENWJ6zMlbQ-61HvudrdnhM1QsAH5NmXpdg7IWAVfZkGiB-GsxSrfQ_t7pPcmQ1qyV4/s1600/IMG_1805.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf_Io55k4hYU5ne3isKqq6cJbz48Xi9BWIYDHMkXRmZRtrJzVZY0hyphenhyphenRHGVSy83FPds-KQx7FTQwENWJ6zMlbQ-61HvudrdnhM1QsAH5NmXpdg7IWAVfZkGiB-GsxSrfQ_t7pPcmQ1qyV4/s200/IMG_1805.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493357037152391442" /></a><br /><br />Since the intermittent thunder showers continued, another guest and her husband offered to take us to a local restaurant for dinner. Before leaving we sat on the B&B’s front porch and shared Joe’s bottle of wine and got to know the other guests. Our conversation was only interrupted by the birds chirping and the occasional rain shower. After dinner, we returned to the front porch and finished off another bottle of wine, watched the fireflies, and enjoyed the night air and good company.<br /><br />We stayed in Damascus for a second day just to cycle the rest of the Creeper Trail. While our morning started with thoughts of the weather and anticipation of the ride, our thoughts quickly mellowed at breakfast. Our hosts served a nice hot breakfast that we enjoyed with the other guests. As we were winding down with our second cup of coffee, our host turned up the volume on the CD player. We all looked at each other wondering why this sudden change in atmosphere. Then he began singing; entertaining us with 2 songs. His singing is great! So much so that this facility should no longer be called a B&B but rather a BB&E (Bed, Breakfast & Entertainment). You can listen to him sing by going to the pictures/videos on our travel blog.<br /><br />Shortly thereafter, we headed to the bike shop for our shuttle ride to the top of the mountain. As previously mentioned, Damascus is a long but gradual down hill from Abingdon. Damascus is also downhill from the other end of the trail but a much steeper downhill. It took the van 45 minutes to get to the top of the mountain for the start of our ride. Before heading down, we toured the restored Green Cove train station and learned of its interesting history. <br /><br />Our ride down was great. We probably could have done it without pedaling and still have had a fast ride. The only thing that slowed us down were the large mud puddles that dotted the trail. As we reentered Damascus, we spotted the café that we stopped at in 2002 as we came through here on our cross country bike ride. This café is very special. In 2002 we spent a wet and cold night on top of the mountain in a rustic Forest Service camp ground. In the morning, we had to pack in the rain and gave up trying to have breakfast. As we dropped down the mountain, we got colder and wetter. This café provided a warm and dry haven for us. Over the years we have often reminisced about the hot breakfast we had and how that café brightened our day. <br />The next day we cycled to Galax and were exhausted after cycling 75 miles and climbing lots of hills. We were doing well until we got to within 8 miles of Galax when we hit the wall during our ride up a never ending hill. The good news is that it did not rain on us. Well, actually, that may not have been bad, as the temperatures got into the 90s. Otherwise, our ride was very scenic and, until we got near Galax, without traffic. <br /><br />Our evening in Galax got more interesting after a hardy pit barbeque dinner and a stroll down the street to the Stringbean Café. Every Tuesday, the Stringbean hosts a country music jam. Between 6 and 9 p.m., the sleepy café was transformed into a very lively place. They have 2 stages. One stage shares the room with the café and the second is in an adjacent room with a dance floor. The café stage had about a dozen musicians and the other stage had nearly 20. The dance floor was crowded with folks flat footin’ dancing. When a group of children from fiddle camp arrived at the café, a third area was set up for them. With 3 groups playing music the place was hopping. We had an incredible evening. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDe-z2MJvd6-nR_DqHFj00SR2DWc-ke6qt12NrXyDCUdTi7sPChP4XmCxZ0v7Bz3vXCDoVTg-kMcvA2wu04gUJ5Plfg3RPjdt-snYDtmEWdHMq4JjLdzzt8vGjH0dOfmKxAb8cEMO2heI/s1600/IMG_4215.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDe-z2MJvd6-nR_DqHFj00SR2DWc-ke6qt12NrXyDCUdTi7sPChP4XmCxZ0v7Bz3vXCDoVTg-kMcvA2wu04gUJ5Plfg3RPjdt-snYDtmEWdHMq4JjLdzzt8vGjH0dOfmKxAb8cEMO2heI/s200/IMG_4215.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493357022091637842" /></a><br /><br /><br />Cycling out of Galax took us on major roads with shoulders, essential because of the heavy traffic. We were heading to Stuart, 50 miles northeast. When routes US 221 and US 58 split, we took route 58 and lost the shoulder and most of the traffic. We climbed for about 36 miles until we got to the top. There, a sign informed us that we were about to experience cyclists’ ecstasy, a 9 percent down grade over the next 6 miles. Joe flew down recording a maximum of 44 mph. I, the more timid, only hit 37 mph. While the downhill became less steep, it continued another 6 miles into Stuart. Stuart boasts a historical theatre featuring performing arts and concerts, traditional Gospel and Bluegrass venues, music and dance studios, coffee shop, restaurants, and a museum.<br /><br />Before leaving Stuart we had an early morning breakfast at the local café. We walked into the café at 5 a.m. and its tiny dinning room was already busy. We were greeted by several local men who spent minutes checking us out. It wasn’t long before they warmed up and started asking questions about our trip. <br /><br />From Stuart, Floyd is only 26 miles away. Since it was a short day, we decided to take a side trip to Fairy Stone State Park. According to local literature, fair stone crosses are only found here. Joe being a “rock hound” could not miss this stop. My wife has had a fairy stone cross “forever” but I have always been skeptical that these crosses were found in nature. After we got to the park, a sign directed us to a digging site 3 miles further off our route. We searched the site for about half an hour. Since we did not receive instant gratification, we went into the nearby rock shop. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS9pl-ne772tjEIusgXIXdU658Tcx_Vg7zor2Ho1PRW5GBP-o6jk1BOzeUfBd2lnoAHgOyhK_kAjm77PcGwYavlsXWEFjTEh-FrvYPf5cVTHt2CPsRKBnu2Lgjzsv4qJTbKK4Zai49g_g/s1600/IMG_4238.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS9pl-ne772tjEIusgXIXdU658Tcx_Vg7zor2Ho1PRW5GBP-o6jk1BOzeUfBd2lnoAHgOyhK_kAjm77PcGwYavlsXWEFjTEh-FrvYPf5cVTHt2CPsRKBnu2Lgjzsv4qJTbKK4Zai49g_g/s200/IMG_4238.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493354023795172482" /></a><br />There we saw a craftsman transforming the crystals into the crosses. While we could see the crosses in the rough stone, they looked nothing like the stone cross my wife wears. <br /><br />To get back on route we ended up back tracking to the main highway. Thus, our 26 mile short day became a 50 mile day. To get to Floyd, we had to cross the Blue Ridge Parkway which meant a 6 mile climb, which for the last 2.5 miles had a 12 percent grade. Once we conquered this climb, we looked forward to a great down hill. However, there was none! We dropped some but had 5 miles of rolling hills to get to Floyd. <br /><br />We stayed at the Hotel Floyd. It is a fantastic hotel that did not cost us any more than some of the less desirable hotels we stayed in. The rooms are spacious and have natural oak doors and trim. Each room was individually decorated by a different community group—i.e. a winery, music store, and the Crooked Road. All furnishings and art are local. Our room was the “holistic room”. Inside the room we found lotus blossom paintings, yoga pads, books, and other amenities that convey peacefulness. Check out Hotel Floyd’s web page for more details (www.hotelfloyd.com). <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho-U7IWXBcJjVHwYL55vWv1cw0ljEb39gC5mDzpHtP0HSjt8N3cbM9g-wJp7AvbzSs37fR-ZkrfVqDtfgfY_tuJlWECyCyWmQ9189RhRR7A97EM-PedsRNvKRwSIKF6OInP5TojK7_AbE/s1600/IMG_1826.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho-U7IWXBcJjVHwYL55vWv1cw0ljEb39gC5mDzpHtP0HSjt8N3cbM9g-wJp7AvbzSs37fR-ZkrfVqDtfgfY_tuJlWECyCyWmQ9189RhRR7A97EM-PedsRNvKRwSIKF6OInP5TojK7_AbE/s200/IMG_1826.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493350381213783810" /></a><br /><br /><br />The hotel is shaped like an “L” with an open air amphitheater. At 5 p.m., we purchased dinner from a barbeque vendor set up in the parking lot and sat outside our room eating and listening to a local blue grass group. They played until 8 p.m., which was about the time our beer ran out. What a great climax to our day! <br />Arriving in Floyd, we were disappointed that we did not get a good downhill ride. However, leaving Floyd we were glad that we did not have that downhill and could easily get onto the Blue Ridge Parkway to head 50 miles north to Roanoke. The Parkway is scenic with minimal traffic and no commercial vehicles. We cycled lots of rolling hills and generally climbed until we got near Roanoke. The Parkway has many scenic overlooks but the most exciting thing we saw were 2 black bears crossing the highway not more than 25 feet in front of us. As we watched the first bear cross the Parkway, we complained that we just could not get our cameras out fast enough. Then the second bear crossed and we were once again caught off guard. <br /><br />About 8 miles from Roanoke, the down hill from heaven started. We cruised down at 25-35 mph. After getting off the Parkway, we experienced about a half mile of very heavy traffic before getting on some city streets for our trip across town to our hotel. Later in the day, our friend Jenny, who was part of a 2002 trip across the United States, picked us up and took us to her home for dinner. It was a wonderful end to our journey.yellowbiketaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03930267735169346620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8612292389702167581.post-27923290916522393062009-10-16T13:53:00.000-04:002010-05-30T06:40:40.546-04:00Virginia’s New River Trail: More Than Cycling(Published in SPOKES, June 2010)<br /><div id="ms__id68"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJdnwa3zzOeOzhfcOiUqUxsp3kEocBGtlNmqCB2Xb9kXjlu-VaACrKuLQEeXNdZ0QTgnpWWAlfOZlvlUqDjD5D9qf4XtOChhit4uJne7w_8kt6-WAQK0zNho6Jgn8hIrBvHli32021PVc/s1600-h/IMG_1033.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393262720530185090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJdnwa3zzOeOzhfcOiUqUxsp3kEocBGtlNmqCB2Xb9kXjlu-VaACrKuLQEeXNdZ0QTgnpWWAlfOZlvlUqDjD5D9qf4XtOChhit4uJne7w_8kt6-WAQK0zNho6Jgn8hIrBvHli32021PVc/s200/IMG_1033.JPG" border="0" /></a>I suspect that most of you, like me, keep a file of places that you would like to cycle…some day. Over the years, I have opened this file and pulled out Tom Gibson’s excellent article on the New River Trail (SPOKES, June 2004) and have wondered when I would experience this wonderful trail. Finally, in the late summer of 2009, I found myself enjoying the New River Trail and the surrounding area of southwest Virginia. The trail is only part of the richness of this area. It abounds in outdoor sports, music, arts, antiques, cafés, and restaurants. I spent 3 days there and wished that I planned a much longer vacation. Because it is such a wonderful cycling destination, SPOKES asked me to provide an update to Tom’s article.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-CgFyupY4ODHLkmiTleDXSJXSt_azhXlVMtby-_AvWwhwsdm9f4tDreljYnXNLTo9-3owxgiz9XzG93bRlmnTI4Hw4NwoTkcdx3G8g6zg2RGHJyYbaj8mQFlJ1ORk91QziAsdNVc5voY/s1600-h/IMG_1005.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393260817045013506" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-CgFyupY4ODHLkmiTleDXSJXSt_azhXlVMtby-_AvWwhwsdm9f4tDreljYnXNLTo9-3owxgiz9XzG93bRlmnTI4Hw4NwoTkcdx3G8g6zg2RGHJyYbaj8mQFlJ1ORk91QziAsdNVc5voY/s200/IMG_1005.JPG" border="0" /></a>The New River Trail is a Virginia State Park that runs northwest 57 miles from the towns of Galax and Fries to the town of Pulaski (near Interstate Highways 81 and 77). Cycling this trail became reality when good friends invited my wife and me to visit them at their summer home in Galax. How much better could it get? Their home sits on a hillside overlooking the Cliffview trail head and a pasture full of wildflowers and horses.<br /><br />To cycle the trail in one day I selected one of the several shuttle services (Blue Cat Outfitters, located in the town of Fries just off the trail—276-744-2027) to take me to Pulaski for the start of my trip. Blue Cat offered to pick me up in Galax; however, I chose to cycle the trail to Fries. The trail forms a “Y” with Galax and Fries at the top end and Pulaski at the bottom. While Galax and Fries are about 5 road miles apart, they are about 15 trail miles from each other. Thus my cycling day was much longer than the trail’s 57 mile length.<br /><br />The town of Fries is on the trail’s New River branch and Galax is on the Chestnut Creek branch. My shuttle driver told me that the name “Blue Cat” was derived from a local Native American Tribe. In addition to its shuttle service, Blue Cat offers bike, canoe, kayak, and tube rentals. They also offer guided tours, tipi rentals at their primitive river-side campground, and fishing trips.<br /><br />The New River is one of the few rivers that flow north. Thus, starting at Pulaski meant that I would be cycling against the flow and presumably “up hill.” However, being a rail trail I figured that the grade increase would be very modest (usually 1 percent inclines). Before hitting the trail I explored Pulaski’s historic district. There I found an active community with interesting shops and restored historic buildings. At the Pulaski trailhead I enjoyed the restored railway station and museum. The museum offers displays of the history and culture of the Pulaski area.<br /><br />Leaving Pulaski, I quickly saw why the trail has been designated a National Recreation Trail by the U.S. Department of the Interior. Its packed gravel surface led me into a wooded wonderland and after a few miles, I was cycling parallel to the New River. The river is approximately 320 miles long, flowing through the states of North Carolina, Virginia, and West Virginia. From what I could see from the trail, the river would be great for water sports.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx5bIb6ZTr6183N0LNOf8IkL9YFrS-Rb8ebOl2JWJ34zF74yau2jV5dAuVcAhV9nhJr0nwlQsLGBpfri0Oh-HGm3vT4x3azMc-Mxkm62xnKk0dVuwqpedpubrkxHods4q4ZlBBFFmovLk/s1600-h/IMG_1049.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393260841446988674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx5bIb6ZTr6183N0LNOf8IkL9YFrS-Rb8ebOl2JWJ34zF74yau2jV5dAuVcAhV9nhJr0nwlQsLGBpfri0Oh-HGm3vT4x3azMc-Mxkm62xnKk0dVuwqpedpubrkxHods4q4ZlBBFFmovLk/s200/IMG_1049.JPG" border="0" /></a>When I am on a rail trail, I imagine what went before. In the early morning mist I could see a Norfolk and Western freight train hauling lumber to one of Galax’s furniture factories. Once the lumber was unloaded, the train would then be reloaded with the finished furniture before heading north to the train’s main line. Like me, the trains would go through two tunnels, the longest nearly 200 feet; cross three major bridges, the longest at Fries Junction is over 1,000 feet; and, according to trail literature, nearly 30 smaller bridges and trestles. This trail was originally part of the New River Plateau Railroad Company that was eventually absorbed by the Norfolk and Western Railroad. The right-of-way was abandoned in 1985 and later donated for the rail trail.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjTe3ZxW9GipCgwIL9rCZawmwfv7c4oDpIaxSSKIl0Gs7O26TteR0VGQoW2Qh-kQc7t4rc76QE7QSx4e14fsZ__6TwctddaujScnUN_tnzkFW3WcJl6nm3FVhg_7nm7dIBMn9MEPmH7uU/s1600-h/IMG_1022.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393260835177077954" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjTe3ZxW9GipCgwIL9rCZawmwfv7c4oDpIaxSSKIl0Gs7O26TteR0VGQoW2Qh-kQc7t4rc76QE7QSx4e14fsZ__6TwctddaujScnUN_tnzkFW3WcJl6nm3FVhg_7nm7dIBMn9MEPmH7uU/s200/IMG_1022.JPG" border="0" /></a>The day I cycled the trail it was virtually deserted. Our 3 day vacation in the New River Valley was characterized by overcast skies and intermittent afternoon showers. I suspect that many trail users stayed home to avoid the wet weather. However, I did meet a few other trail users, most of which were deer but some were people. Just out of Pulaski I met a group from Ohio who were RV camping nearby and were on their cruiser bikes doing a short ride. They told me that while their trail back home was the best, they really liked the New River Trail. Their big tires were ideal on the packed gravel trail but most any bike would be ok. My touring bike with its 37mm wide tires worked fine.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHn_AAVHdwOPLj9Uu0I9Ss7kEbyB9IZXcZ53gObOeq01BwRXSK9ACZpWrB2MQCW7MLKg4ccnQtegE4ifFTd3JFN5OXzhYhpkT8ygM1yuBPOODw4FmzP7UP1Bx99IpMeCs-Wx0MxMMOlEU/s1600-h/IMG_1037.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393260852753593330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHn_AAVHdwOPLj9Uu0I9Ss7kEbyB9IZXcZ53gObOeq01BwRXSK9ACZpWrB2MQCW7MLKg4ccnQtegE4ifFTd3JFN5OXzhYhpkT8ygM1yuBPOODw4FmzP7UP1Bx99IpMeCs-Wx0MxMMOlEU/s200/IMG_1037.JPG" border="0" /></a>Near Foster Falls Park, I met a family who were exploring a small cave adjacent to the trail. As I arrived, a father and his young son were emerging into the light. After posing for a photograph, they told me that the cave went into the mountain about 30 feet. Once inside they found old bones and evidence of earlier explorers. Being somewhat claustrophobic, I accepted their report at face value and wished them well as I continued cycling on the trail to the wide open spaces of Foster Falls Park. The park is on the trail so stopping there should be part of your journey. </div><br /><br />On the trail there is little in the way of refreshments. However, I was able to purchase light snacks and drinks at the restored railway station in Foster Falls Park. The store manager, Marilyn Rudy, told me that the park rents bikes, canoes, kayaks, float tubes, and horses. In addition to the train depot, other historic attractions include an old iron furnace, caboose, and a hotel and grist mill that have not yet been restored. The park also has an outdoor amphitheater that is used during the summer. Two festivals are held annually at Foster Falls. In early September, the park hosts the Railway Festival and on the third Saturday in September it hosts the Wythe County Heritage Day event.<br /><br /><div id="ms__id67">A few miles north of Foster Falls Park is a 200 year old shot tower. According to Wikipedia, “lead was hoisted to the top of the tower using block and tackle and oxen. The lead was melted in a retort and then poured through a sieve at the top of the tower. The droplets of molten lead would become round during the 150-foot descent. The shot would collect in a kettle of water and workers would enter through a 110-foot access tunnel located near the bank of the <span style="font-size:0;">New River</span> to retrieve the shot from the kettle.” </div><br /><br />The New River Trail State Park offers four unique campgrounds: Cliffview, Millrace, Baker Island and Double Shoals. I stopped at <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVfWaxv8NgROU3IUWQnTDrRxSLzkGhfEYpX3sC62y4lq9LeaXsOTtNJryY9MfVzoy8DeD7jr-uVae9BCPOQ7Qty8YdxWH6hyphenhyphenbfPxt2r9L0GSZmgnKAPPw2YMmH8ZNjJNelby00c28iGqk/s1600-h/IMG_1015.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393260827302007490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVfWaxv8NgROU3IUWQnTDrRxSLzkGhfEYpX3sC62y4lq9LeaXsOTtNJryY9MfVzoy8DeD7jr-uVae9BCPOQ7Qty8YdxWH6hyphenhyphenbfPxt2r9L0GSZmgnKAPPw2YMmH8ZNjJNelby00c28iGqk/s200/IMG_1015.JPG" border="0" /></a>the Cliffview campground and was impressed. The facilities are primitive but well built. In fact the pit toilets here and elsewhere along the trail were in stone buildings and very clean.<br />The trail is accented with several interesting pieces of trail art. Just outside of Pulaski, I enjoyed the Ghost Train Sculpture by Harry McDaniel. It consists of five abstract sculptures on poles and telescopes placed at each end. Looking through the first telescope I saw the silhouette of a locomotive and from the other telescope I saw the silhouette of a caboose. The other sculpture near Galax was more abstract but I believe that it depicted the wild and scenic New River.<br /><br /><div id="ms__id66">For the more traditional rail-trail cyclists several railroad artifacts remain. These include the mile-marker obelisks, warning signal <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOBqeieDpPD16sULur5fjg0a5p9SYwj2CPhtMy0XD8MI6NSA7WZy2FZ4vwWKcS91FBwIPoKSgY-7Znr6bf3M3ZZvrR3THKkILZGWFl3cdKUJ24A2S8IclUjQjuYOp3szTlZAKw5TfHhx8/s1600-h/IMG_1026.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393262709525003730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOBqeieDpPD16sULur5fjg0a5p9SYwj2CPhtMy0XD8MI6NSA7WZy2FZ4vwWKcS91FBwIPoKSgY-7Znr6bf3M3ZZvrR3THKkILZGWFl3cdKUJ24A2S8IclUjQjuYOp3szTlZAKw5TfHhx8/s200/IMG_1026.JPG" border="0" /></a>light fixture, and tunnel warning device with tentacles hanging over the trail like a “brushless carwash” that warned trainmen to duck or get off the top of the train.<br />Before arriving back at Galax, it rained heavily for about 45 minutes. Luckily, I planned for this possibility by carrying appropriate rain gear—3 plastic bags for my wallet, cell phone, and camera. Since it was very warm, I did not carry any other rain gear and enjoyed the cooling effect of the soaking I received. At the Galax trail head, I had to climb the hill back to my friend’s house. After getting cleaned up and enjoying wine on their deck we headed into Galax for dinner. </div><br /><br /><div id="ms__id64">Galax has a vibrant downtown with art, music, coffee shops, cafés and restaurants, and antiques. It is the home of the Jeff Matthews Museum with Civil War and Native American artifacts, the Old Cranks Motorcar Museum and the Rex Theater. This Theater offers live music which is often free during its Friday night radio broadcasts. In addition, Galax has hosted the Annual Fiddler’s Convention since 1935 and is on Virginia’s “Crooked Road” music heritage trail. (This 300 mile trail through Southwest Virginia is also included in my file of great places that I want to cycle). Finally, the Blue Ridge Music Center is only 12 miles outside of Galax. </div><div id="ms__id65"><br /></div><p>After a night on the town, my wife and I packed our car in an early morning rain for our return trip home to Northern Virginia. We hated to leave and seriously talked about looking for a realtor so we could also live in the New River paradise. </p><p><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/yellowbiketales/NewRiverTrail#">click here for more photos</a></p>yellowbiketaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03930267735169346620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8612292389702167581.post-43741624124280043852009-08-25T18:15:00.000-04:002010-02-07T11:53:32.801-05:00Places I Go and People I Meet<div id="ms__id31"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI7BxI9A6f5WR9N3h3nHMN3mI2ps8e1ungXdLnlaZBnjw7ocinNr8cwHayGwNV6FUucjLGaDM-1_qDN9vs8Oo0jje_d9UIlBAEAi6lCnoo0FpolUAxD8X4Nc3OkxPR4fOIfpnIXF0v-g0/s1600-h/Yellow+bike+at+St.+Louis+Arch.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374035195154184354" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI7BxI9A6f5WR9N3h3nHMN3mI2ps8e1ungXdLnlaZBnjw7ocinNr8cwHayGwNV6FUucjLGaDM-1_qDN9vs8Oo0jje_d9UIlBAEAi6lCnoo0FpolUAxD8X4Nc3OkxPR4fOIfpnIXF0v-g0/s320/Yellow+bike+at+St.+Louis+Arch.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div id="ms__id32"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Pedaling where Lewis and Clark Paddled</span></strong><br /><br /><div id="ms__id34"><br /><div id="ms__id73"><div id="ms__id72"><div id="ms__id70"><div id="ms__id69"><div id="ms__id71"><div id="ms__id33"><div id="ms__id68"><div id="ms__id66"><div id="ms__id52">The simple chalkboard menu read: “Monday: salmon patties, tater tots, coleslaw, strawberry cake and sweet tea. Tuesday…” If we wanted a hamburger we would have had to wait until Thursday. So it was salmon patties for all. We were hungry and the food was good. It was served with a smile and lots of conversation. In our spandex, we sat at a long table with farmers in coveralls and flannel shirts. One man joked that he also cycled—“the real kind with a motor.” He was called Preacher. Preacher was a grizzled man with lots of tattoos but a warming smile and full of talk. He had just returned from a rally in Arkansas where he rode his 3-wheeled motorcycle. “At the rally, I saw naked women riding motor cycles.” Preacher, a retired Missouri River pilot, is now a farmer. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNUxo4LzcJZ7o52zo6t8KLgx6zumTCqWMZpvYHAs8V1YiRH9zcIQ4aBrIDqlGbdYKM9j3l9ntfW2oKaC3-e_HDlep7k2JI9bUtVWFFX3imaDa-IoT-0VZ-kfzk-LUBRWYotc_LAa4vJj4/s1600-h/Eating+salmon+patties.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374031244710471138" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNUxo4LzcJZ7o52zo6t8KLgx6zumTCqWMZpvYHAs8V1YiRH9zcIQ4aBrIDqlGbdYKM9j3l9ntfW2oKaC3-e_HDlep7k2JI9bUtVWFFX3imaDa-IoT-0VZ-kfzk-LUBRWYotc_LAa4vJj4/s320/Eating+salmon+patties.JPG" border="0" /></a>This particular café was between Jefferson City and Boonville, Missouri. Like many small towns that we cycled through, this café did not look like anything special—cinderblock structure, gravel parking lot with non-operating gasoline pumps, and a sign offering gas, food, and groceries. What was special was inside!<br /><br />I and my friends, Joe (from New York State) and Hans-Peter (from Switzerland) started our westward journey in St. Louis Missouri. We planned a route that followed Lewis and Clark’s travels up the Missouri River as they explored the Louisiana Territory for President Jefferson. Like Lewis and Clark we met many interesting people along the way. Cycling out of St. Louis, we met the first of many new friends: the café owner who served us breakfast; the city guide who got paid to ride his bike and answer questions from tourists; and the park rangers who snapped group photos for us under the Gateway Arch. Our daily narrative, photos, mileage, and maps can be found at <a href="http://oldmensbikeride2009.blogspot.com/">http://oldmensbikeride2009.blogspot.com/</a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0xC-PJIQNkPw4vA4l122I0aTDPG86de2U9pvlPB72tMJWe36ShKFN6xed5zO3KH_pZOPKqFME1Qp8lPy77cVH7oJ30LvVgNqw75KwjaFPNnhvHx0ac2A30fVWvncF-YPnazBvqEFF8t8/s1600-h/Crossing+the+Missouri.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374031997163954498" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0xC-PJIQNkPw4vA4l122I0aTDPG86de2U9pvlPB72tMJWe36ShKFN6xed5zO3KH_pZOPKqFME1Qp8lPy77cVH7oJ30LvVgNqw75KwjaFPNnhvHx0ac2A30fVWvncF-YPnazBvqEFF8t8/s320/Crossing+the+Missouri.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Once we crossed the Missouri River we cycled much of the 225 mile Katy Trail that follows the Missouri River to Kansas City. In Defiance, Missouri we stopped to get coffee and decide if we would cycle to Daniel Boone’s Missouri home. As we pulled into town (3 stores, a bar, and several homes), we were met by the owner of those 3 stores (a general store/bike shop/gift boutique). While very friendly she was also very cruel. She let us smell her special coffee beans that just came out of the roaster but then told us that her coffee service was not yet in operation. She sent us across the street to the bar for coffee. We were crushed and had to settle for weak coffee and the smell of stale beer.<br /><br />Further along the Katy Trail we met John. He offered to cycle with us to the next village to show us where to get good coffee. John seemed to know all the farmers gathered outside the café/general store. Once inside, he introduced us to Britney, the effervescent teenage store manger, coffee maker, and breakfast server. She sat with us and joined in our conversation. She did not have a menu but offered to make us several styles of egg. One style was called “daddy eggs,” a term that none of us knew. When asked, both John and Britney gave us the “look” that meant everybody knows daddy eggs. So we each ordered a daddy egg and as best as we can determine it is an egg fried in a ring with its yoke broken but not scrambled.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOQTHbS2M53Ry5K4BcEcuJ2XXeWb8vYO_NuUXbpWw4djziaxYl_OhIKOUr2Hprg4VoK5H5KjO6nAqQ7kCLXygfMEn7pVZPImiIfu5KqhcYi23HFV5rp1YZLFb3Ds7hPnCumJBlbnGlEXc/s1600-h/Jeff,+Joe,+Britney,+and+Hans-Peter.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374031252050753474" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOQTHbS2M53Ry5K4BcEcuJ2XXeWb8vYO_NuUXbpWw4djziaxYl_OhIKOUr2Hprg4VoK5H5KjO6nAqQ7kCLXygfMEn7pVZPImiIfu5KqhcYi23HFV5rp1YZLFb3Ds7hPnCumJBlbnGlEXc/s320/Jeff,+Joe,+Britney,+and+Hans-Peter.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div id="ms__id65">Later that morning, we met several cyclists who reported flood problems on the Katy Trail 2 days ahead. One couple told us that they cycled several miles in near knee-deep water and lugged their bikes over another section where the cliff collapsed and blocked the trail. This information took us off the Katy Trail and on the road where we met Preacher.<br /><br />Days later, we stopped at the historic town of Arrow Rock, Missouri. While the docents provided interesting discussions of the town’s history and restoration, we got a different perspective on local history as we cycled out of town. An elderly gentleman waved us to a stop in front of his home. He told us that he was the fifth generation to live there. The home was built in 1835 by a great grandfather. He built the house for his wife before he left to make his fortune by taking trade goods to California, a 2 year journey. When he returned home his wife was pregnant…she then moved out to live with his best friend who owned the Arrow Rock Tavern. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdAx-FAdWCbKal42tkbpNb10gHCt6Nh9uhxjEf_KHGquuPxAH54Tby9mAnBlHwG72_1eixNnknaI6-Bwh7gnl4tWNR-Cegv9ko23auL2KrtH48XY99lIDOXOjr5H658si6xIR1mDhmXFw/s1600-h/Interviewed+for+local+TV.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374033207831335778" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdAx-FAdWCbKal42tkbpNb10gHCt6Nh9uhxjEf_KHGquuPxAH54Tby9mAnBlHwG72_1eixNnknaI6-Bwh7gnl4tWNR-Cegv9ko23auL2KrtH48XY99lIDOXOjr5H658si6xIR1mDhmXFw/s320/Interviewed+for+local+TV.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div id="ms__id55">Our arrival in St. Joseph, Missouri had 2 surprises. First, we were met by a local television reporter who filmed our arrival and interviewed us for the nightly news. She was particularly interested in Hans-Peter’s journeys in the United States. The second surprise was when friends from Chicago met us at our hotel. They had been tracking our progress from our blog and decided to meet us for drinks and personal updates of our journey.<br /></div><div id="ms__id54">In the town of Rock Port, Missouri, we were struggling with the fact that the town’s only restaurant was closed. However, we did find a grocery store. Rather than locking up our bikes we decided go in the store separately. Joe went in first but took forever to return. We soon found out that <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg2tojGR-IJ3QD8LNx-506mUDBJt9-z9ws-mle5fvKstQ0qPW7ajapZxpyRg6HtHsLpbUEa8Ku_K9EkC8jlACvPjq08QV5ezx2GCbNBaM1SBU2lvsA9B62I0n8hhKHMxCiQb17Qe5yXHA/s1600-h/Katy+Trail.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374033214811764082" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg2tojGR-IJ3QD8LNx-506mUDBJt9-z9ws-mle5fvKstQ0qPW7ajapZxpyRg6HtHsLpbUEa8Ku_K9EkC8jlACvPjq08QV5ezx2GCbNBaM1SBU2lvsA9B62I0n8hhKHMxCiQb17Qe5yXHA/s320/Katy+Trail.JPG" border="0" /></a>we were the central attraction and the crowd was growing by the minute. The 2 store employees could not do enough for us. While helping us get food they had lots of questions and comments. They were not alone and other customers were just as curious. The town doctor walked in and he was introduced as being an avid cyclist…so our story began again. Dr. Mike is a family doctor and a 3rd generation doctor in a family full of country doctors. He enjoys the rural life and the freedom it provides him to roam on his cycle. He and his wife have cycled in many states and in Europe. He examined our bikes like he would new patients, commenting on their differences and similarities. Our simple grocery stop took an hour but it was an hour well spent.</div><br /><div id="ms__id45">Our morning in Tarkio, Missouri started out with breakfast at a farmers’ café. Again our spandex did not seem to matter to the blue jean clad farmers. They were thrilled to tell Hans-Peter about American farm sizes and farming methods. When it was time for us to leave, the waitress told us that one of the farmers paid for our breakfast before he left. Wow, what a wonderful start to a great day!</div><br /><div id="ms__id48">Leaving Missouri, we cycled on the Wabash Trail to Council Bluffs, Iowa. Along the trail, we met a man picking mushrooms. He carried a golf club that he swung to chase the snakes away. The mushroom picker revealed that he lived in Council Bluffs, our day’s destination. Getting there would result in an 88 mile day, a long cycling day for Hans-Peter. Hans-Peter accepted a ride with his new friend but Joe and I cycled on; making this our longest, but not our hardest, cycling day. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdGa20V3QdLQ58U5bf_Ab9VqgAveTLPvX5oobc7BaIoG9UG3pPi93iiWW28QhfoiHQc7uAFXO0ox1188Atc_I1jjEB948A6U1usvcwpkULZ5ozYbZR_Bl38aQCnyGGXXuopAc8HgWqlEE/s1600-h/Wabash+Trace+Trail.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374035185771564738" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdGa20V3QdLQ58U5bf_Ab9VqgAveTLPvX5oobc7BaIoG9UG3pPi93iiWW28QhfoiHQc7uAFXO0ox1188Atc_I1jjEB948A6U1usvcwpkULZ5ozYbZR_Bl38aQCnyGGXXuopAc8HgWqlEE/s320/Wabash+Trace+Trail.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We took a layover day in Council Bluffs to get some bike work done. My bike took only minutes to repair but Joe's took hours. Steve Batten, the owner of the True Wheel Bicycle Co, took charge of Joe's bike and as soon as one problem was fixed another was revealed. In the end, Joe was thrilled with Steve’s diagnostic and repair skills and the resulting price. The next morning, as we were leaving Council Bluffs, we passed several groups of children heading to school. One little boy got excited at seeing us and started to wave his arms and yell, “hasta la vista, amigo.” We were disappointed that we did not photograph the boy, but some memories are worth a thousand pictures.</div><br /><div id="ms__id50">Although Sioux City, Iowa was our destination, we camped in S. Sioux City, Nebraska. You could say that we were having a one-night-stand in Nebraska because this was our only night in this state. Just before crossing the Missouri River, we stopped at the Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center and met the director and some of his staff. They asked if we had a blog and, of course, we obliged and gave them our address. The next morning we met 2 workmen near our campground who recommended that we have breakfast at the nearby Townhouse Café. The owner, Mrs. Curry greeted us with fresh coffee, good food and genuine curiosity about our travels. She has owned and operated this café for 16 years; serving food from 6 a.m. to 2 p.m. She said that she likes her café and having family nearby but she would also like to travel.<br /><br />We headed northwest out of Nebraska, through the corner of Iowa and into South Dakota. A strong tail wind pushed us quickly to the town of Elk Point. Upon entering the town, we were told that the best place to eat was the Legion Hall. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjYNlj3HYgjNiZRCWbtdb169xLLkfRJ4Cn2VwfaJ7-YgOABtsXOO5e6Kmd8_XX6Trhi48ny2TLekNw_vY5ln0TWLHoc0yG28cynA9cqCTr-V8iF2iTwBMYSjHqp2SRc8dDZ8A61vU0dX0/s1600-h/Elk+Point+newspaper+editor.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374031999185680242" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjYNlj3HYgjNiZRCWbtdb169xLLkfRJ4Cn2VwfaJ7-YgOABtsXOO5e6Kmd8_XX6Trhi48ny2TLekNw_vY5ln0TWLHoc0yG28cynA9cqCTr-V8iF2iTwBMYSjHqp2SRc8dDZ8A61vU0dX0/s320/Elk+Point+newspaper+editor.JPG" border="0" /></a>So we headed down Main Street for our second breakfast. As soon as we entered the Hall, we knew that we were at the right place. A group of women were there for their weekly gathering. They quickly took charge and welcomed us to Elk Point. Sylvia, a spry woman, wanted to trade her electric scooter for one of our bikes. While no trade occurred, she enjoyed posing for pictures. Within 5 minutes of our arrival, Kelly Kruithoff, Editor of the Leader-Courier Newspaper showed up with camera and note pad. We became multimedia cyclists.<br /></div><div id="ms__id58">We were welcomed into South Dakota by the lovely ladies of Elk Point. However, the next day, South Dakota showed us a very different kind of welcome. We had strong north winds and cold temperatures. After 7 hours of cycling, we only covered 33 miles. To add insult to our day, we cycled a circuitous route of country roads. The direct route on the highway was only 23 miles. So the day was mostly about the “suffering cyclists” and not lovely ladies and cafés.<br /></div><div id="ms__id57">The next day, we arrived in Springfield, South Dakota before noon and stopped at the Libby Stake House for lunch. Everyone in the restaurant was dressed in their Sunday clothes except for us in our spandex. While we were trying to discuss our day’s destination and eat lunch, we were swamped by other patrons who either wanted to hear about our trip or provide input to our plans. Two middle aged women wanted Joe to go to the casinos with them. A grain storage operator had a thousand questions about us, our bikes, the routes, etc. A business man offered Hans-Peter some alternatives to our route. Four road cyclists told us that they were the ones that yelled encouragement to us as we battled yesterday’s head winds.<br /><br />On our way to Pierre, South Dakota, we cycled together until Fort Thompson where Hans-Peter decided to spend the night. Joe and I cycled on. In hind sight our decision was “stupid.” Our journey turned out longer, windier, hotter, and with more hills than anticipated. It was totally desolate. I decided to hitchhike but Joe kept cycling. Since there were no passing cars, trucks, or planes, I kept moving, trying to catch Joe. As the day wore on and it got later I was worried about reaching Pierre. It was hours before I got a ride. However, I did not see Joe as I sped into town in a big pickup. When I got to our hotel, Joe had already settled into our room. He told me that he was picked up hours earlier by a trucker who said that he felt bad about not picking up the first cyclist he saw.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivs6JHkVbOf-3knCFzA5x57oD2CnvYLO6O9_DC3uYof7Kxs6p1YqvhZhRbvmTZHrWZbWUsdl3k6yvHPFaNf38AHCA6knIoZN_opq2g6yFm_KqOw7lMJLfqkaJZL0nvDzmMYE2XMxfBYtw/s1600-h/Cyclists+sharing+a+meal.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374033204202759442" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivs6JHkVbOf-3knCFzA5x57oD2CnvYLO6O9_DC3uYof7Kxs6p1YqvhZhRbvmTZHrWZbWUsdl3k6yvHPFaNf38AHCA6knIoZN_opq2g6yFm_KqOw7lMJLfqkaJZL0nvDzmMYE2XMxfBYtw/s320/Cyclists+sharing+a+meal.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Leaving Pierre was a lot easier than getting there. About 30 miles into our route, we met 3 other cyclists. These guys were cycling the Lewis and Clark route in sections and this was their last one. Dave, Terry, and Lauren are from the Twin Cities area of Minnesota and were taking turns driving a support van. At that point, we had planned to head 12 miles east to Onida for the night. However, these guys were heading north. While their route was twice as long as our planned route, it had a strong tail wind. We chose their route and flew at 20-25 mph for the next 25 miles to an alternative lodging. Even with these great tail winds, we made one stop. We saw a man sitting on the tailgate of his truck holding a sign that read “OLD GUYS WELCOME.” The man knew our names and knew our eating habits. Craig McIntyre, South Dakota’s State Bicycle Coordinator, had been following our blog and decided to give us a big boost. When he brought out the caramel sticky buns, 2 kinds of cookies, and several types of drinks we knew that he seriously followed our journey. Leaving Pierre was much nicer than getting there.<br /></div>About half way into a 61 mile day, we stopped in the town of Kenel on the Standing Rock Sioux Reservation. It was the only food stop on the day’s route. We pulled in just as the owner, Ernest Martinez, arrived to open his store. He apologized for the lack of provisions and said that he expected a big order this week’s Pow Wow. We selected a healthy lunch of oatmeal-raisin cookies and orange soda. While we munched, the real richness of our lunch emerged. Ernest told us about his grandfather, John Bear King, a WWII Code Talker. Ernest was proud to represent his family at the 2007 dedication of Code Talker Hall at Quantico Marine Base in Virginia. Despite the popular belief that all code talkers were Navajo, many native tribes provided them. He showed us plaques awarded to his grandfather and a medal that lists all the Tribes that provided code talkers. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHmaZ-7SKIZgHF8yfLiDUmGFjsozCbEPBnyovERUYt1QmDZHRgaAQn5y7G6D0Zzl-9NHBQ0vgOEH-aaXKcSS4GVzOESVPBE1fh9h4u3x98jeb1583CrixNDtuaWhoIiu0sK3WyrNulMM4/s1600-h/SD+bike+coordinator+and+Joe.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374035175209166258" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHmaZ-7SKIZgHF8yfLiDUmGFjsozCbEPBnyovERUYt1QmDZHRgaAQn5y7G6D0Zzl-9NHBQ0vgOEH-aaXKcSS4GVzOESVPBE1fh9h4u3x98jeb1583CrixNDtuaWhoIiu0sK3WyrNulMM4/s320/SD+bike+coordinator+and+Joe.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div id="ms__id59">About 20 miles outside of Bismarck, North Dakota, we were exhausted from the headwinds and suffering from the cold temperatures. I asked a farmer if we could take a break in his barn to get out of the wind and cold. Instead, Arlan invited us into his home for coffee. When he opened the door he yelled to Shirley that “they had company.” Arlan said that he has 2 sections of land (1,380 acres) overlooking the Missouri. He has about 400 head of cattle that he grazes on this land. During 2004, the Lewis and Clark Bicentennial, Arlan said that lots of cyclists passed by and some stopped to enjoy his view of the river. Before we headed back into the wind, Shirley said “that the North Dakota wind never stops and when it does they declare a holiday.”<br /><br />We cycled through parts of The Little Missouri National Grassland in North Dakota and stopped in Grassy Butte for quick refreshment. Like most towns its size, it had one “do it all store.” This one sold plumbing and automotive parts as well as light groceries and snacks. The owner, Don Trotter told us that “the coffee was free because some things in life should be.” Next, he offered us some of his wife’s home made cake. He said that despite the fact that he tries to sell pastries, she is always bringing in a cake to share. Don showed us a 5 foot skinned snake and said that it came from his farm. He had a “live and let live” philosophy about snakes. In fact, the snake kept his farm free of mice. However, when he got a new dog, things changed. The dog and the snake decided that the farm was not big enough for both of them. The dog lived. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJy2Xzl_gRvFQepgeHnlHIOEHD29Zn_MY7AbZMTwUta9jF7_xoiJk2dnbgrwecn1H65-mu6yg7l4qUbhLapUujxMe8-KIRGoAVZdcnDXwRm4bmz8b16_Hy5CU5qsRF_wdJQmIezU_FN4E/s1600-h/Missouri+River.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374033223336959362" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJy2Xzl_gRvFQepgeHnlHIOEHD29Zn_MY7AbZMTwUta9jF7_xoiJk2dnbgrwecn1H65-mu6yg7l4qUbhLapUujxMe8-KIRGoAVZdcnDXwRm4bmz8b16_Hy5CU5qsRF_wdJQmIezU_FN4E/s320/Missouri+River.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div id="ms__id61">From the Grasslands, we cycled into the Theodore Roosevelt National Park. It was spectacular! We dropped down into the park and then had to climb out. However, that did not distract from our wonderful day. In the Park, Joe asked the Ranger where he could photograph buffalo. The Ranger gave Joe a cautious look and said “buffalo don’t like bicyclists.” He went on to explain that buffalo have poor eyesight and when they see a bicyclist, they think it is competition. Joe joked that he was fast but the Ranger quickly gave him a reality check. He said that “buffalo can run up to 35mph and they can get that fast in just 2 strides. While Joe still took some buffalo pictures, he made sure that I was always between him and the buffalo. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKz5X68jNEGfFgTKO49eZDpeksA85UWRx4TRYn-oUODGsQTb_KppTPhHZjhnnqdwx6p9W-yRaUISu0bEUkz_otwC5MQTgU_2raq_XWw5Y9veIa1OWtiynkj2qK47hub0iGbMlDrLOJr7M/s1600-h/TR+National+Park.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374035179532007954" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKz5X68jNEGfFgTKO49eZDpeksA85UWRx4TRYn-oUODGsQTb_KppTPhHZjhnnqdwx6p9W-yRaUISu0bEUkz_otwC5MQTgU_2raq_XWw5Y9veIa1OWtiynkj2qK47hub0iGbMlDrLOJr7M/s320/TR+National+Park.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div id="ms__id34">Just before we left North Dakota, we stopped at both Fort Buford and Fort Union. Fort Buford was established in 1866 and housed both cavalry and infantry units. Fort Union was not a military fort but rather a trading post. Fort Union dominated the area’s fur trade between 1828 and 1867. It belonged to John Jacob Astor’s American Fur Company. Lisa and Dave were dressed in period costumes. They described life at the fort and served us boiled coffee in tin mugs. </div><br /><div id="ms__id63">Crossing into Montana, our cycling got easier as our direction changed from north to west. In Culbertson, we stopped at the local museum. Not only was it free, it had great exhibits and the ladies served us home baked cookies. The museum was filled with artifacts from the surrounding community and depicts life over the last 100 years. At our hotel, we met Robert, a youngster at 60. He was cycling from Seattle to Minnesota along the northern tier of the United States. He took 3 weeks off work to do this and needed to average 77 miles a day to meet his goal. He told us that he is "not smelling the rose but looking for bragging rights." We had dinner together but found it difficult to wish each other great tail winds…since we are going in the opposite direction.</div><br /><div id="ms__id64">We continued westward through Montana and ended up in Havre after 1600 miles of cycling. At that point, our paths separated. Joe met friends from his home town and packed his bike in their van for his return trip. I boarded Amtrak for my trip home and Hans-Peter cycled to Portland, Oregon for his flight back to Switzerland. It was a great bike trip that gave us wonderful memories of the places and people along the way. </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>yellowbiketaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03930267735169346620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8612292389702167581.post-16238406831234952802009-06-09T08:57:00.000-04:002009-06-09T09:12:27.848-04:00The Ageing Cyclist<div id="ms__id67">While this is my story, you may find similarities in your life. I have been a cyclist since I got my first bicycle. I was a young boy then and that seems like a long time ago. Well, in fact, it was a long time ago! With a career, wife, and children I did not cycle very often in my middle years. I still have my wife, but I am retired and my children are on their own. Cycling has again become an important part of my life.<br /><div id="ms__id63"><br />During my non-cycling years, I was not a complete slug. I was a compulsive runner. My transition back to cycling occurred when my body could no longer endure the punishment of running. In hind sight I was not too bright. The doctor told me that I should quit running to heal the stress fractures in both of my feet. I ran 3 years beyond my doctor’s recommendation. Eventually, I traded my running shoes for cycling shoes.<br /><br />I restarted my cycling where my running left off—punishing my body. I was not an efficient runner nor was I an efficient cyclist. Spinning was for wimps and smelling the roses was for slow pokes. Now that I am even older, parts of my body and mind are telling me to smarten up. Knee pains at the start of a journey across the United States sure smartened me up to spinning. However, I am a slow learner. Just in case you are feeling sorry for me, I am not in a nursing home and I am only 63 years of age.<br /><br />MY FIRST BIKE<br /><br />I sometimes wonder if childhood events foretell what is to come. My first bike was a “3-speed English” bike. It had an internal gear hub, skinny frame, even skinnier tires, and hand breaks. Today these bikes are known as road bikes. I don’t remember why I got an English bike. I do remember that I initially resented being different from my friends. They all had the big cruiser bikes that were popular in the 1950s (before many of you were born). However, I quickly found out that my English bike was lighter and could climb better than my friends’ cruisers. That bike would not compare favorably to today’s road bikes. However, it would be considered a classic. Cruiser bikes are back in vogue and internal hubs are again gaining popularity. Bikes@Vienna has a bike on display with an internal 8 speed hub. Perhaps I am also a classic and may yet have a rebound.<br /><br />Until I learned to drive, I went every where on my English bike. I took it to the swimming pool, the store, and even to see my girlfriend (who became my wife). In fact, I also used my English bike as a mountain bike. Don’t get me wrong, it was a road bike but that did not stop me from taking it into the woods and over jumps. I abused and enjoyed my childhood bike. I did not worry about miles or hills. Nor did I worry about the temperature or the weather. I even joyfully remember the reckless abandon of my youthful cycling—racing down hills thru intersections and disregarding stop signs. Just so you know that I was not completely stupid, I quit this practice after the first time I got hit by a car. However, I proudly beat my friend to the bottom of the hill! Also, I was very lucky with only minor injuries to my body. While my bike did not fare as well, I was able to replace its damaged parts with those from a discarded English bike.<br /><br />REDISCOVERING MY YOUTH<br /><br />No, I don’t want to rediscover how foolish I was. Nor do I want to cycle on a 3-speed bike. Rather I want to get back to that youthful feeling of freedom that the bike of my youth provided. As a youth I did not concern myself with putting in X miles over X time to maintain my fitness and prowess as a cyclist. As I free my mind I also need to take care of my body. Mind and body are not separate and they both must be nurtured.<br /><br />Taking care of my body<br /><br />First things first. As I get older I am learning to change and adapt. It’s not that long ago that I would have ridden through pain and that would have been considered a good thing. Didn’t our high school coaches tell us to “tough it out.” Today, I cycle with a 27-gear touring bike and my body appreciates those easy gears. It is a great bike and has transported me about 25,000 miles over the last 8 years. However, my new aches and pains (that I would have dismissed in my earlier years) are lingering to the point that they are annoying. As last summer drew to a close, I suffered from a stiff and sore neck. I tried to ignore the problem as long as I could but it would not go away. Eventually, I admitted that I had a muscle imbalance from using my drop handle bar and I needed to do something to fix the problem. What could I do: (1) purchase a new bicycle (2) replace my drop bar with a flat one, or (3) work with a physical therapist? I chose “all of the above.”<br /><br />Lance Armstrong said, “It is not about the bike.” However, sometimes a new bike may be the answer to that needed change demanded by our bodies. It sure helped me. I tested many different recumbents, trikes, and other style bikes. Not only did I need a change in position to relieve that pain in my neck, I also wanted something that would be fun. However, I did not try a tricycle or Big Wheels. I did try a racing trike and liked its quickness and maneuverability. It reminded me of the Big Wheels my children loved. Maybe when I am older, I will use a tricycle. That is, if can I figure out how to attached panniers to it. Then I can keep taking multiple day/week/month cycling trips to and from the nursing home. In the end I purchased a recumbent bike that allows me to sit upright and not strain my neck muscles. Yes, recumbent cycles can be cool.<br /><br /><br />While the new bike is nice, I did not want to give up my touring bike. After some research, I purchased a butterfly handle bar that turned my cool looking road bike into a European touring bike. I bet that you thought I would say that it made my bike look___________ (add your own term for “less cool”). Getting older allows me to put a positive spin on events and totally disregard the popular racing image prevalent in U.S. cycling. Instead of looking like a “racer,” I will now cycle with a European flair. Also, without the drop bar I have an excuse for being slow.<br /><br />Finally, I saw a doctor and had my neck x-rayed; nothing broken and no arthritis. The doctor sent me to a physical therapist. She gave great massages and put me on a series of strengthening and stretching exercises. She also told me that “at my age” I needed to take better care of my body and get off the drop handle bar. It took several months of serious work but the pain is gone and most of my mobility has returned.<br /><br />Taking care of my mind<br /><br />Taking care of my body was relatively easy; ha ha ha. The real challenge is taking care of my mind. When I am on my bike, I sometimes still focus on fitness and prowess with miles covered and time spent. Feeling cool with a European looking handle bar and recumbent is just a start on my new mindset. Sometimes, but not often enough, I focus on the moment (a Zen thing), my location, the company I keep, the weather, or just being alone and lost in my thoughts. However, I still want to enjoy the carefree cycling of my youth. No, I don’t want a 3-speed bike nor do I want to race down hills ignoring stop signs. Rather I want to let my mind free to soar with the wind until I drop and then lie in a grassy meadow to watch the clouds go by.<br /><br />I am not yet where I want to be. This year I plan to cycle the Lewis and Clark trail from St. Louis, Missouri to Astoria, Oregon. I figured that this is a good opportunity for me to work on my mind set. But, this was not as easy as I had hoped. I wanted to do the trip in 2-months time which requires a modest 55 mile-a-day average. However, one of my 3 cycling companions thought that this would be difficult for him. He offered to let us go on without him. My initial response was “I want to do more miles per day not less…this sucks.”<br /><br />After taking a deep breath, I thought about my goal of freeing my mind and rediscovering that lost youthful abandon. Because I enjoy my friend’s company, a new plan emerged. We reduced the average daily mileage to 45 and extended the number of days on the road. This is “now” a good thing. It means that I will have more opportunities for smelling the roses each day. I can take longer stops and enjoy more side trips. Heck, Lewis & Clark did not try to do this trip in 2-months. Their journey took 2 years. They discovered new lands, found new plants and animals, met different cultures, and their trip resulted in many books. When I get home I don’t want to find my journal filled with miles, elevations, and time on the road. Rather, I want to read about the wondrous things I saw and did. Especially, I want to read that my journey was really about smelling the roses and laying in meadows watching clouds move across the sky. </div><div id="ms__id40"></div><div id="ms__id41">You can be the judge of my success. Check out our Lewis and Clark trip travel blog at <a href="http://oldmensbikeride2009.blogspot.com/">http://oldmensbikeride2009.blogspot.com/</a> </div></div>yellowbiketaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03930267735169346620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8612292389702167581.post-17361578881610431142008-11-28T15:59:00.000-05:002009-03-01T06:26:04.542-05:00NORTHERN NECK DELIGHTS<div id="ms__id4233"><div id="ms__id4234"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkYR3GiA597hbQ6_5ITDmZGuOO28h1-Bgt-qyXpYLEpc_q_Bkn99C6VWF3NIRTHnD08nauEuQx1h32ca979hWslZozhGVyxuOuLSYkIT9Iw7ZMEwZC0TFd5jkI3_AdZ5MBft50g7PMbuE/s1600-h/IMG_0642+Jeff+and+his+yellow+bike.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273820283170249394" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkYR3GiA597hbQ6_5ITDmZGuOO28h1-Bgt-qyXpYLEpc_q_Bkn99C6VWF3NIRTHnD08nauEuQx1h32ca979hWslZozhGVyxuOuLSYkIT9Iw7ZMEwZC0TFd5jkI3_AdZ5MBft50g7PMbuE/s320/IMG_0642+Jeff+and+his+yellow+bike.JPG" border="0" /></a> (Published in SPOKES: March 2009)<br /><br />I have long wanted to cycle the Northern Neck region of Virginia but like most good things it just had to wait until the time was right. At the prodding of SPOKES, I finally did it and had a wonderful cycling experience. I cannot remember having as much fun cycling as I did during the 3 days my cycling friend Larry and I spent on the Northern Neck. The October weather was on the cool side but not cold. The traffic was very minimal and the roads were great and mostly flat. However, that is not what made the trip so wonderful. My joy came from being relaxed and not being concerned about mileage. In just 3 days, we stopped at more coffee shops, historic sites, and scenic areas than I did crossing the United States in 90 days; at least that is what it seemed like. I think some of the sites were more powerful than when I first saw the Tetons; not that they were better, far from it, but rather my mind was in a far better place. Cycling the Northern Neck was truly delightful.<br /><br />The Northern Neck is east of Fredericksburg, Virginia and flanked by the Potomac River on the north, the Rappahannock River on the south and the Chesapeake Bay to the east. According to WIKIPEDIA, the Northern Neck has “1,100 miles of shoreline containing beaches, marinas, old steamship wharfs and small towns that date back to colonial times.” It is about 100 miles from Fredericksburg to the southeastern tip of the Northern Neck, which is just east of the town of White Stone. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVoB9kizRWZjzAGTSZotZv8jUJr1N2KKQT9mRpGA4mQ-J10brxZFF_aAv5uDNegl_zb8a8OYWi4bYm8XAnog8gBontyundixXxLfsr4RxbGQSred6DHCOocuGqE4Cv31Imsge9BGojbjg/s1600-h/IMG_0596+Westmoreland+State+Park.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273816755332469922" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVoB9kizRWZjzAGTSZotZv8jUJr1N2KKQT9mRpGA4mQ-J10brxZFF_aAv5uDNegl_zb8a8OYWi4bYm8XAnog8gBontyundixXxLfsr4RxbGQSred6DHCOocuGqE4Cv31Imsge9BGojbjg/s320/IMG_0596+Westmoreland+State+Park.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />While cycling on the Northern Neck offers isolated rural areas, it is not without its great small towns and full services. According the RIVAH VISITOR’S GUIDE the Northern Neck has plenty of places to stay including over 50 motels, bed and breakfasts, and resorts. In addition, it has almost 2 dozen campgrounds and several canoe and kayak rental locations. This guide also reports nearly 200 places to eat and several vineyards to visit and taste. However, we did not find any bike shops. The RIVAH organizes the Neck’s offerings by its 4 counties: Westmoreland, Richmond, Lancaster, and Northumberland. Since I grew up in a Northumberland county in Pennsylvania, this Virginia County has a special place in my heart.<br /><br />It took us about 2 hours to drive from Northern Virginia to start our first ride on the Northern Neck.<br /><br /><strong>Three rides for 3 days</strong><br /><br />It was difficult to plan rides that would let us experience the Northern Neck in just 3 days. Therefore, we focused on cycling near its water boundaries. Our first trip started on the Potomac River at Westmoreland State Park. (While we used motels on this trip, we saw that the park has tent camping and cabins.) Before mounting our cycles, we stood on the rivers edge watching the wind create havoc on the water. Even though the cool and windy weather by the water was challenging, we stayed long enough to see either ospreys or eagles (sorry that I don’t know which) circling their nests and looking for food. Leaving the park, we began a 30 mile loop that took us through the countryside past Stafford Hall Plantation, the birthplace of Robert E. Lee, and into the town of Montross where we made our first café stop. In The Art of Coffee café<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEcxRZQ3wfuecF25trZhaaCO5CDLzKUtBHgFzWmUTJg6tM7uTVueKGNkdajmA2YCMPWcZUSLLBKEjmoYDcYupLnUf2nqKryAJHjUrIw5T7adS8RwQXMIiYYwX1pisRCP76ncFvPrTwrQk/s1600-h/IMG_0602++Jeff+at+Art+of+Coffee.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273817489532590338" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEcxRZQ3wfuecF25trZhaaCO5CDLzKUtBHgFzWmUTJg6tM7uTVueKGNkdajmA2YCMPWcZUSLLBKEjmoYDcYupLnUf2nqKryAJHjUrIw5T7adS8RwQXMIiYYwX1pisRCP76ncFvPrTwrQk/s320/IMG_0602++Jeff+at+Art+of+Coffee.JPG" border="0" /></a> we were greeted by the owner and her friendly staff. We had excellent coffee and sandwiches while enjoying the café’s art gallery. The owner displays and sells her paintings as well as the paintings and crafts created by other Northern Neck artists. From there we continued southwest through mostly agriculture areas toward the Rappahannock River. Finally, we completed our loop by heading northeast back to the Park. The only traffic that we encountered on this trip was on this last section where we cycled several miles on Route 3. However, the traffic was still minimal and drivers courteous.<br /><br />After loading our bikes, we drove east for our next day’s ride that would take us along the Rappahannock River out to the Chesapeake Bay before heading inland. The second day’s ride started in Irvington on the south eastern part of the Neck. According to the town’s webpage, Irvington dates from 1891 and was part of the steamboat route between Norfolk and Baltimore. The town displays part of a steam boat at its Steamboat Era Museum and offers B&B and resort accommodations, farmers markets, and charter boating.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcYSjGHx3sYfv_wOX4sNRlovMh2_4kucRgClKriq6wWH4YfIW6xSW1Er6qf14rzjkSH85wHy-0kRnkTrguqPygPIr6L9pA6l9mWZBBC9pbXRp0v3Jh2awjyqPj2QXcOj62bhFE4Hb96Iw/s1600-h/IMG_0625+Eastern+most+point+of+the+Neck.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273818868873638754" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcYSjGHx3sYfv_wOX4sNRlovMh2_4kucRgClKriq6wWH4YfIW6xSW1Er6qf14rzjkSH85wHy-0kRnkTrguqPygPIr6L9pA6l9mWZBBC9pbXRp0v3Jh2awjyqPj2QXcOj62bhFE4Hb96Iw/s320/IMG_0625+Eastern+most+point+of+the+Neck.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />From Irvington it was only a short ride east to the town of White Stone where we found another great café that roasted its own beans. From there it was only 7 miles east to the Chesapeake Bay. Since this road only leads to the Bay through a low density residential area, we had minimal traffic. After doubling back to White Stone, our route took us north to the town of Kilmarnock. According to the town’s webpage, Kilmarnock was settled in the mid-1600s. To get a flavor for the town, we stopped at The Talk of The Town Coffee House were we met more friendly people. One of those we met was a former bike racer out of Richmond who wished that he had the time and conditioning to join us. Little did he, or we, know that our day would require only minimal conditioning.<br /><br />Our route through Kilmarnock was to loop us northeast before coming back into town for a loop to the southwest giving us a 60 mile day. This is where relying totally on a GPS can get you into trouble. I recently purchased a GPS for my cycling adventures. This trip was my first real test in using it. I liked not having to read a map and just follow along the route shown on the screen. However, the GPS got confused in Kilmarnock with my planned route. I wanted to do a figure eight that went through the town <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_M07hzJEYo1jZ6dhzfa1SqLcdatT71su2-U54HtCSJhiqkgxhvzYx3MUyL5RXgzXVzcihyZtwQRWAJz6w05OqMUAtOWqzus43ULXopF-OP814eWpbnpTSTf4CSqW9c3HbbOgFitOH8yo/s1600-h/IMG_0608+Larry+at+the+Talk+of+the+Town.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273817493393809602" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_M07hzJEYo1jZ6dhzfa1SqLcdatT71su2-U54HtCSJhiqkgxhvzYx3MUyL5RXgzXVzcihyZtwQRWAJz6w05OqMUAtOWqzus43ULXopF-OP814eWpbnpTSTf4CSqW9c3HbbOgFitOH8yo/s320/IMG_0608+Larry+at+the+Talk+of+the+Town.JPG" border="0" /></a>twice. After our stop, I could not get the GPS to show me the northeast loop. It kept showing me the southwest route that I planned for the second loop through Kilmarnock. So we just gave up and went with the flow and headed southwest. Initially, I thought that the loss of 20 miles would be disappointing. However, as the day turned out the GPS was smarter than me.<br /><br />We followed our destiny and cycled southwest in a wide circular loop back toward Irvington. On the way, we stopped at the historic Christ Church and received a tour and warm hospitality from its docents. After our “long” ride we wanted to have some refreshments as we neared the town of Irvington. First, we found a winery but it was closed for the day. While disappointed we cycled on and found a café called The Local. It was opened and we rationalized that coffee was probably better for cyclist than wine. One of The Local’s claims to fame is its ice cream. Larry raved over the ice cream’s rich flavor and texture and went into a 2 scoop mode. To burn off all our extra calories we cycled around Irvington for one more look at the Rappahannock Rive before packing up our bikes.<br /><br />Our third ride started in Warsaw and would take us past another section of the Rappahannock River. Since we had to check out of the motel by 11 a.m., we started our ride early so we would have time to get back for showers before heading home. This meant a very cool start with the October temperatures in the 40 degree range. While Larry was prepared with the correct clothing, I did not have leg or finger coverings and I was cold for the first hour. After that Larry was overdressed and I was comfortable. This 20 mile ride took us northwest before heading southeast toward the river. Along the way we ran into road construction where a new bridge was near completion. Rather than making us take the detour, the workmen allowed us to cycle through, thus keeping us on our route. This route gave us our first and only “hill.” While not much of a climb, it was followed by a long downhill. What surprised me was that we were at water level before and after the hill so it was hard to explain why the downhill seemed much longer than the climb. I guess it was all part of the fantastic journey.<br /><br />As we got closer to the river, we again saw lots of water birds and deer. We stopped at Naylors Beach Campground located on the bank of the Rappahannock River. While the campground was deserted at this time of the year, it looked like a great place to stay. With the many campgrounds we saw I could easily envision taking a loaded tour through the Northern Neck.<br /><br /><strong>Stopping traffic with a Trike <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3lbBT8e1XXievchczREnK95ACtXUvfTzlfrFgCuvG7-KI8IkupHt34Cj8d1670tzE4Sw_QdEYsyhc9o4KzZw5Cco-8sZT86tzG1qIKxTvRjRYgQXd3WYT_wpwS6Cza4ryvb30bBMaRhs/s1600-h/IMG_0607+Larry%27s+trike.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273822154734123410" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3lbBT8e1XXievchczREnK95ACtXUvfTzlfrFgCuvG7-KI8IkupHt34Cj8d1670tzE4Sw_QdEYsyhc9o4KzZw5Cco-8sZT86tzG1qIKxTvRjRYgQXd3WYT_wpwS6Cza4ryvb30bBMaRhs/s320/IMG_0607+Larry%27s+trike.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></strong><br />While I cycled with a standard touring bike (my “yellow bike”), Larry used a Catrike—a very low bike with two 20-inch wheels in the front and one 20-inch wheel in the rear. Every day we were stopped and asked about Larry’s trike. We must have been stopped a dozen times but it became part of our relaxed journey. We forgot the miles and just talked. One man passed Larry and motioned for him to pull over. Larry figured that he was going to catch hell for cycling on the road with what some consider a “toy.” However, the man told Larry that last week he tried a similar trike in Vienna, Virginia. As it turned out, it was the same place that Larry purchased his trike (<a href="http://www.bikesatvienna.com/">http://www.bikesatvienna.com/</a>). On the second day in Irvington, the Tides Inn Resort’s lawn crew came to a halt as we cycled by. There we spent about 45 minutes discussing the pros and cons of such a bike. On our last day, a huge orange state highway truck stopped in the middle of the road, the driver turned off its motor and the crew started the all too familiar questions about Larry’s trike. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2x_8tReMOGnP1QpuHAxUtbx8EhbWdrsQRXptR6k_NdeyYwiwtL8ujTDBc3kGB7gTF_kxkXU5PTPLMMuD0b9W56nXYhEhso6Jh_8ud3Lyh8I3mb4iJHFegvPwIwFDhGhtIPQAVszijB8w/s1600-h/IMG_0606+Larry%27s+trike.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273818872071111058" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 6px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 11px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2x_8tReMOGnP1QpuHAxUtbx8EhbWdrsQRXptR6k_NdeyYwiwtL8ujTDBc3kGB7gTF_kxkXU5PTPLMMuD0b9W56nXYhEhso6Jh_8ud3Lyh8I3mb4iJHFegvPwIwFDhGhtIPQAVszijB8w/s320/IMG_0606+Larry%27s+trike.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><strong>Lots of history</strong><br /><br />If historical sites interest you, your bicycle is an excellent way to explore the Northern Neck. According to the RIVAH, there are over 70 museums and historic sites on the Neck. Settlements on the Northern Neck date back to the 1600s. One of the oldest and very interesting structures is Christ Church, located just north of Irvington. The original wood structure was built in 1670 and in 1735 it was replaced by the current brick structure. The church has been restored and is still used, but it was never heated or air conditioned. The church still has its original high-backed box pews that view a towering triple deck pulpit. Sitting in one of box pews I could almost experience an early American preacher standing high up in the pulpit’s third level and raining “fire and brimstone” down upon me because I sometimes cycle on Sundays.<br /><br />A jump in time and distance will take you to the birthplace of George Washington on route 3 in Westmoreland County. Today, George’s mother, Mary Ball has her own museum in nearby Lancaster County. In Colonial Beach, a short distance away from George’s birthplace you can find the birthplace of James Monroe, our fifth president. Further east along route 3 you can visit the birthplace of Robert E. Lee at Stratford Hall Plantation. This plantation built in the 1700s has been restored and is open to the public. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYU1wv4qJHkntyz8OsHm0A-hafQFfEdDeKqI5jcvVwjJX3snecMuymw8fzS5GZcPwgQ6y4fkaFyD5Fiq9WTJWQLXYK6Z68m67xJ2H_9ksPxbJEFHp6C89vGgMaor5nYFeFIc2jWXgk43I/s1600-h/IMG_0619+Irvington.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273818857000711474" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYU1wv4qJHkntyz8OsHm0A-hafQFfEdDeKqI5jcvVwjJX3snecMuymw8fzS5GZcPwgQ6y4fkaFyD5Fiq9WTJWQLXYK6Z68m67xJ2H_9ksPxbJEFHp6C89vGgMaor5nYFeFIc2jWXgk43I/s320/IMG_0619+Irvington.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />If presidents and historic churches are not your thing, you can cycle by Hayden Hall in Irvington. Scandalous as it seems today, Sarah Wilder the mistress of Hayden Hall was married at the age of 12. She must have grown up quickly because she and her husband, Tom Hayden, had 11 children in this home which dates from the 1800s. While the RIVAH reports that Sarah’s ghost haunts the home to this day, you will not have an opportunity to meet her for Hayden Hall is a private residence.<br /><br /><strong>Going further south</strong><br /><br />Before heading home we had the opportunity to cross over the Rappahannock River at White Stone and drive up to Tappahannock, Virginia about 45 miles away. The area south of the Rappahannock, north of the York River, and west of the Chesapeake Bay is called the Middle Peninsula of Virginia. I had not been to this part of Virginia either and it looks like another great place to explore on my yellow bike.</div></div>yellowbiketaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03930267735169346620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8612292389702167581.post-38116272897698939182008-06-01T15:07:00.000-04:002008-06-01T15:26:50.240-04:00Cycling Close to Home: Exploring Virginia's Horse Country<div id="ms__id9936"><br /><div id="ms__id9937"><div id="ms__id9938"><div id="ms__id9921"><div id="ms__id9919"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLxmG4LaBUNsOpi9JyISx1VG0zwFd2OED0UHbI_AbZdTIGjr-sGBr9bCZMXD7e4wmLJkBXdL44mM0My3X5e-78LXXacSgNXjGbzYLtNFZBuNqKXrCssECV4WfqoUkBjmcKotDEv_vUsyE/s1600-h/IMG_0487.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206992837209216306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLxmG4LaBUNsOpi9JyISx1VG0zwFd2OED0UHbI_AbZdTIGjr-sGBr9bCZMXD7e4wmLJkBXdL44mM0My3X5e-78LXXacSgNXjGbzYLtNFZBuNqKXrCssECV4WfqoUkBjmcKotDEv_vUsyE/s320/IMG_0487.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Published in SPOKES: June 2008<br /><br /><br /><br /><div id="ms__id9920"><br /><br /><br />After cycling across the United States, circumnavigating Switzerland, and exploring Spain, I often wonder “where to” for my next cycling journey. Spokes’ editor suggested that I explore Virginia, my home state. What a novel idea! I have cycled the trails and roads in Northern Virginia and crossed the length of the southern part of the state—a long and hilly ride—when I cycled across the United States. Usually, I have been going “somewhere else” on my cycling trips. In the spring I took my first “cycling closer to home” trip into Virginia’s horse country.<br /><br /><strong>Overview</strong><br />Since I planed a local trip I decided to actually start cycling from home (no cars, trains, or planes on this trip) by taking the Washington & Old Dominion Rail Trail (W&OD) west out of the metropolitan area to Purcellville before hitting the roads. From there I planed to head south to Middleburg, The Plains, Marshall, and on to Warrenton. After that I would head northwest to Front Royal then head northeast to Paris (Virginia not France), Bluemont, and then back to Purcellville before hopping on the W&OD for the final leg home. I planned to cycle about 200 miles over 4 days.<br /><br />My local cycling friend Larry and his cycling friend Dave from York, Pennsylvania decided to join me. Larry wanted to try his new recumbent on a tour and Dave wanted a shake-down ride in preparation for his upcoming ride from Astoria, Oregon to his home in PA.<br /><br />I used Google Maps to find a route that consisted of mostly country roads with low traffic volume. I knew that the terrain would be hilly so I did not even look at that feature of the program. I left home with a print-out of the narrative directions but wished that I had also printed the larger sections of the detailed maps. The level of detail on Google was greater than the state road map that I carried. It would have been helpful to connect the narrative with a map to avoid some of the confusion we had at several unmarked country roads.<br /><br />Google is also helpful in finding lodgings, restaurants, and bike shops. If you want a Bed and Breakfast you will have no trouble finding lots of accommodations along this route. However, motels are only found in Leesburg, Warrenton, and Front Royal. By using B&Bs you will have greater flexibility in controlling the length of your riding days. Restaurants, cafés, and other food stops are found in all the towns that we cycled through.<br /><br /><strong>Heading West on the W&OD</strong> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimMhKHn1xQhxKTq22FFR6cQpBt_lJARyoY9w75SpqiSqd4ALASOTenZEbfrSXsCmz5OpmxYxrebkZL7RrH0GbTDXaIrqn8REF_L_giQx1-E_Zqpp0OzO3bZ6P5k4ZQCsmx4itdlXPRuFU/s1600-h/IMG_0463.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206993253821044034" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimMhKHn1xQhxKTq22FFR6cQpBt_lJARyoY9w75SpqiSqd4ALASOTenZEbfrSXsCmz5OpmxYxrebkZL7RrH0GbTDXaIrqn8REF_L_giQx1-E_Zqpp0OzO3bZ6P5k4ZQCsmx4itdlXPRuFU/s320/IMG_0463.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Our trip started in less than ideal conditions. The weekend weather prior to start of our trip was a torrential downpour. Despite the continuing rain, we started our journey on a very wet Monday. However, we anticipated better weather for the rest of the week as we left Falls Church (mile 7 on the W&OD trail) and headed west. Surprisingly, we encountered other foul-weather cyclists, joggers, walkers, etc. on the trail. With all the rain a section of the trail near Leesburg was flooded and closed; necessitating a detour onto the roads. Otherwise the trail was in good condition and riding to the end in Purcellville was easy. The W&OD railroad first ran to Purcellville in 1871 but terminated operations in 1968 and later becoming a rail tail.<br /><br /><strong>On the Roads</strong><br /><br />Purcellville has several restaurants in this part of town. Just make a left off the W&OD onto N. 21 St. and go to Main St. While we were having coffee in Purcellville, one local resident told us that they see lots of cyclists on route VA-690 heading towards Middleburg and that most drivers took their time passing the bicyclists. We had no trouble with the cars and made several stops to look at the wildflowers and horses. We were still on the fringe of “horse country” but my untrained eye saw lots of good looking horses.<br /><br /><strong>Falls Church to Middleburg: 55 miles</strong> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisTH3xae87Mp7srqOrIb5uHZoYpke3uLk8vdI5X55qHtO7BP-L1_kXfHCzTgTcEcwXh_Sjn0cgAgTVF46LwwOKHSkbmC-DmpTYF-EHSFAx9riwl1YF2EQHPjyHaV2b66ZgV5rGsWVuWJ8/s1600-h/IMG_0460.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206995362649986386" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisTH3xae87Mp7srqOrIb5uHZoYpke3uLk8vdI5X55qHtO7BP-L1_kXfHCzTgTcEcwXh_Sjn0cgAgTVF46LwwOKHSkbmC-DmpTYF-EHSFAx9riwl1YF2EQHPjyHaV2b66ZgV5rGsWVuWJ8/s320/IMG_0460.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><em>W&OD Trail to Purcellville<br />Left onto N. 21 St.<br />Left at Main St. (Route 7)<br />Immediate right at Nursery Ave (VA-690)<br />Left at S 32nd St. (continuing on VA-690)<br />Cross Snickersville Turnpike and VA-690 becomes VA-611<br />Left on Foxcroft Rd to Middlesburg.<br /></em><br />We arrived in Middleburg in time for lunch. Middleburg was established in the late 1700s and supposedly got its name because it was midway between Alexandria and Winchester. This little town has several good meal options ranging from a grocery store bag lunch to fine dining. We chose a café called Mello Out on E. Federal St. and had interesting sandwiches and drinks while we relaxed and listened to several local horse owners talk about the trials and tribulations of owning a horse. Based on what they said, we were thankful that we only had bicycles to contend with. You may want to plan your cycling trip to Middleburg to take advantage of its horses, fox hunting, and steeplechases. Or plan your trip for May when the town hosts the “Hunt Country Stable Tour.” I took this tour several years ago and was amazed at how well the horses lived. In fact, one stable even had a swimming pool for its horses.<br /></div><br /><div id="ms__id9918"><strong>Middleburg to Warrenton: 30 miles <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMmx-OYKgxRdrSDprvJ3PxR7-NMxBynYubNsKOBH2xlzodzclCaPpb_7eRqQsKcTheoqbxL_1pHn11y6WwAzgzklrd6jsOziBTByYun5joS0UdEDATye0IP9Yc59DeZTseg20RYXJ9rnQ/s1600-h/IMG_0468.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206996406327039346" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMmx-OYKgxRdrSDprvJ3PxR7-NMxBynYubNsKOBH2xlzodzclCaPpb_7eRqQsKcTheoqbxL_1pHn11y6WwAzgzklrd6jsOziBTByYun5joS0UdEDATye0IP9Yc59DeZTseg20RYXJ9rnQ/s320/IMG_0468.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></strong><em>Right on US-50<br />Left on VA-626 to The Plains<br />Right on VA-55 to Marshall<br />Left on US-17<br />Right at Carters Run Rd.<br />Left at Wilson Rd<br />Left at Cannonball Gate Rd.<br />Continue on Bear Wallow Rd<br />Right at Norfolk Dr.<br />Left at Gold Cup Dr. into business district</em><br /><br />Next, we headed south to The Plains. The W&OD was flat but the further south we got the more rolling hills we cycled. None of them were difficult and the change of pace was nice. We were now in the heart of Virginia’s horse country which made stopping by the side of the road very enjoyable. We also noticed that the number of wineries was increasing as we headed south. It would be fun to plan a cycling trip that incorporated stops at several of them. In hindsight I wondered why I chose to tour the horse country and not the wine country.<br /><br />The Plains is a very small town but you won’t go hungry as the town has several cafés where cyclists are welcome. In The Plains we met a man interested in our ride. While in his professional life he is a mine inspector, his and his wife’s passion is competing in long distance cycling races. We were definitely not racing since we only averaged 12 mph. However, as with most cyclists we found a common bond as we swapped cycling stories.<br /><br />From the Plains we headed about 5 miles west to Marshall. In case you are wondering, Marshall got its name from our first Chief Justice, John Marshall. If you did not want to do a horse or wine tour of this area, you could do a history tour. Many of these towns were founded in the 1700’s and later saw action during the Civil War.<br /><br /><strong>Our First Climb</strong><br /><br />Leaving route VA-55 we headed south for a short distance on Winchester Road (US-17). While this highway has more traffic it also had a shoulder. Just after crossing over Route 66 we made a right turn onto Carters Run Rd and quickly into the calm of another good country road. This was great cycling until we neared Warrenton and had to climb Viewtree Mountain. While the climb was only several hundred feet in elevation, it was steep. I rationalized that a short walk would do my legs good and ended up pushing my bike up the steepest part. Since Dave and Larry were also walking, they must have wanted to stretch their legs as well.<br /><br />One of Warrenton’s “claims to fame” is that it hosted Virginia’s first Gold Cup Race in 1922. Like most towns we visited, Warrenton has maintained its historic district with many early American buildings still intact. That is amazing considering that during the Civil War the town “changed hands 67 times.”<br /><br /><strong>Warrenton to Leesburg: 75 miles</strong> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeecyZrtIzakq6BH3GuxnU1bvcFSCG81FfZcluBGJTwaPkR9OudpNu5I2KUgUiX3OmPdYbI-jQm0kWOViRUZSYdm79diFv6aQ3UIEBsOU93pVNyOjm1cmr3D_r5bQ02bSLTSdm9enEsuI/s1600-h/IMG_0477.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206995955355473250" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeecyZrtIzakq6BH3GuxnU1bvcFSCG81FfZcluBGJTwaPkR9OudpNu5I2KUgUiX3OmPdYbI-jQm0kWOViRUZSYdm79diFv6aQ3UIEBsOU93pVNyOjm1cmr3D_r5bQ02bSLTSdm9enEsuI/s320/IMG_0477.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><em>Left from Gold Cup Dr. at Blue Ridge St.<br />Right at Waterloo Rd<br />Continue on Old Waterloo Rd<br />Left at Old Waterloo Rd<br />Right on Leeds Manor Rd<br />In Hume, left on Hume Rd<br />Right on Fiery Run Rd<br />Stay on Fiery Run Rd (several miles of unpaved surface)<br />Right at VA-55<br />Left at VA -688<br />Left at US-17<br />Left on US-50<br />Right on VA-601 Blueridge Mountain Rd<br />Right on VA-7 at Snickers Gap to Purcellville<br />Left on 21 St<br />Right on W&OD to Leesburg<br /><br /></em><strong>Getting Lost is Part of the Adventure</strong><br /><br />We left Warrenton early in the morning and experienced some traffic getting out of town. But within a few miles the traffic disappeared and we were again cycling on country roads. Before we got to Hume we found a café and stopped for a break. After we got on the road again we were thankful for the stop because we did not find another place until we reached VA-55. While we had originally planned to go into Front Royal we got confused when we reached Fiery Run Road. Where was the detailed Google map when I need it? We should have gone straight because Hume Road became Fiery Run Road going west but we chose to go right on Fiery Run Road heading north. If we had gone straight on Hume Rd it would have taken us to US-522. From there we would have made a right and headed north into Front Royal. However, our right turn on Fiery Run Road took us directly to VA-55 but over several miles of unpaved road. Yes, that became just another part of the “adventure.”<br /><br />Front Royal is the gateway to the Shenandoah’s with access to Skyline Drive, Shenandoah National Park, and the Shenandoah River. However, I later learned from the town’s web page that by missing Front Royal I missed a great piece of baseball trivia. The Front Royal Cardinals play in the Bing Crosby Stadium; named for the singer because of his donations of land and money.<br /><br />After turning onto VA-55, we passed a crossing for the Appalachian Hiking Trail that would run parallel to our ride north on VA-688 and VA-601. Dave recently hiked the entire trail and Larry has hiked a good portion of it.<br /><br /><strong>Always Another Climb</strong><br /><br />After leaving VA-55 we encountered our first big climb of the day. We headed north on VA-688 toward Paris and had a 600 foot climb over the mountain. We reached this point in our trip after cycling 35 miles over rolling hills and on dirt roads. However, it was very scenic with farms and more horses along the way. We also passed the 4,000 acre Thompson State Wildlife Management Area (which hosts 7 miles of the Appalachian Trail) and the Green’s Mill site (the mill was built between 1818 and 1823). What bothered us was that we knew that we had another climb facing us as we cycled up Blueridge Mountain Road.<br /><br />The Blueridge Mountain Road climb seemed steeper and the 3 of us ended up walking our bikes up the worst part as we swatted away the mosquitoes and gnats. Once we got back on our bikes we cycled for several miles along the top of the ridge before heading down to route VA-7. We had been paralleling the Appalachian Trail during most of this climb and hoped to stop at the nearby hostel. However the hostel was about half way down the mountain and we chose not to interrupt our great down-hill ride. Once we hit VA-7, we literally had a long down hill ride all the way to Leesburg--about 20 blessed miles!<br /><br />We reached Leesburg after cycling 75 miles on loaded bikes and climbing 2 big hills. Surprisingly, we all felt that we could continue the rest of the way home. However, we had reservations to stay in Leesburg and decided to keep to our original plan. While all the towns we visited were very nice, Leesburg has always been one of my favorite towns. I like the feel of the town, its historic district, great restaurants, and bike shops. The town also has horses, wineries, and was the home of George Marshall of WWII fame.<br /><br />The next morning was just a short-flat ride of 26 miles on the W&OD trail. Within a few hours I arrived home in Falls Church. </div></div></div></div></div></div>yellowbiketaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03930267735169346620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8612292389702167581.post-52699537463688581122008-02-25T06:52:00.000-05:002008-11-28T16:34:59.932-05:00Canadian Rockies<div id="ms__id4901">The Great Parks North Cycling Tour: <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK_Y5l0NEPCAI0BMQFSXJ5I77uhEFTUHuGUuDiJ1tAoiR2GGAfnBWBQvBhBjVFmPGc84rHm0Dp7vPw9nMY4cEthyphenhyphent0CWmti2JUhyphenhyphenXEMs49j9SehZKwv1_nNIWCFofR-GFFWeIevlIpcZw/s1600-h/IMG_0482.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170886290192298226" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK_Y5l0NEPCAI0BMQFSXJ5I77uhEFTUHuGUuDiJ1tAoiR2GGAfnBWBQvBhBjVFmPGc84rHm0Dp7vPw9nMY4cEthyphenhyphent0CWmti2JUhyphenhyphenXEMs49j9SehZKwv1_nNIWCFofR-GFFWeIevlIpcZw/s320/IMG_0482.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Jasper Park in Alberta, Canada to<br />Glacier Park in Whitefish, MT<br /><br /><br />Did you ever wonder what it would be like to spend time in one of those fantastic picture postcards? You know the postcards that show snow-covered mountains, fast-running rivers, and wild animals. My cycling trip through the Canadian Rocky Mountains provided such an experience. However, as you read my narrative and view the photographs you may not fully appreciate the beauty and majesty of being integrated into this environment, unless you too have been there.<br /><br />My trip started like many others. It took me all day to get ready. I was not sure of how best to pack my gear for the train trip and what I would do with my luggage when I was cycling. Larry picked me up at 3 p.m. and drove me and my bike to Union Station in Washington, DC to catch Amtrak train #29 leaving at 5:20 p.m. for Chicago. Larry had planned to go on this trip but had to cancel because he had not yet fully recovered from pneumonia.<br /><br />After much anticipation and some anxiety I spent my first night sleeping on the train. Before this my train trips were just hours long. However, this trip involved sleeping 2 nights on the train. I decided to sleep in the coach rather than in a sleeping car because it was significantly cheaper and I figured that it would prepare me for the upcoming nights that I would spend in my tent. In Chicago I met my friends from NY—Joe, Jack, Dick, and Ray—where we boarded another train for the second leg of the trip to Whitefish, MT. These four guys and Hans-Peter, who we would meet in Whitefish, were on my cross-country trip in 2002. We arrived in Whitefish on time (9 p.m.). Despite the late hour and long trip we all had plenty of energy to move our bikes, boxes, and bodies to the Downtowner Motel. After being on the train for 3 days and 2 nights I relished the idea of a hot shower and a real bed.<br /><br />The town of Whitefish is a great tourist town for those who love the outdoors. It is located near Big Mountain (a sky resort) and Whitefish Lake. While the town was originally nicknamed “Stumptown” because of its logging heritage, this name does not reflect its exciting character and many interesting shops, restaurants, and activities. Whitefish has a population of 9,500 and is at 3,040 feet of altitude.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpEN5q-2xuFnc80a4WwZ21H0zIFvH9zCf3oyqjcpSZ2LRgPJxIT19HxMLtQbcdLmqGx8lh8brfkLD-wNXm9drYAWlTmdqjw0Em11PPFaib6bdajk0ZPc4Y7TrT79GTPnaUq5vopQ_RkU0/s1600-h/IMG_0382.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170887089056215298" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpEN5q-2xuFnc80a4WwZ21H0zIFvH9zCf3oyqjcpSZ2LRgPJxIT19HxMLtQbcdLmqGx8lh8brfkLD-wNXm9drYAWlTmdqjw0Em11PPFaib6bdajk0ZPc4Y7TrT79GTPnaUq5vopQ_RkU0/s320/IMG_0382.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Our first morning in Whitefish started with a great breakfast at the Buffalo Café with its nontraditional menu and large portions. Later we went to the Glacier Cyclery (a wonderful and very helpful bike shop) to drop off our bike boxes and extra gear and purchase last minute things that were forgotten. We had lunch at Truby’s outdoor café before we cycled up Big Mountain. On the way up a black bear crossed in front of us. However, it disappeared into the woods too quickly to get out our cameras. After cycling an hour we reached the lodge area and we took the chair lift to the top of the mountain (which took about 40 minutes). We sat for a while in the cold air and listened to 2 folk musicians entertain café patrons and watched mountain bikers hop off the chair lift, hope on their bikes, and disappear down the steep and twisting trails. On the top of Big Mountain we got a picture <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGrD9kBqkdbL57CJ51XfQ7mPNHIx-Th1h4b9Wlvyy6dst8HwslNo68zPRSPiRDMRnQLwOyT9ePfrswa9PxSxpSS9vbpgwQHr4OvKNYa-mh79dvtb1CsJ4tJjAH4zBjIkZs6AgVCMwDcys/s1600-h/IMG_0395.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170887518552944914" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGrD9kBqkdbL57CJ51XfQ7mPNHIx-Th1h4b9Wlvyy6dst8HwslNo68zPRSPiRDMRnQLwOyT9ePfrswa9PxSxpSS9vbpgwQHr4OvKNYa-mh79dvtb1CsJ4tJjAH4zBjIkZs6AgVCMwDcys/s320/IMG_0395.JPG" border="0" /></a>postcard view of the entire area. It was about 20 degrees cooler at the top and the wind-chill made us even colder. On the way back down, I took another picture postcard shot with my camera.<br /><br />Later in the day we left the comfort of the motel to join the rest of our tour group at the KOA campground that was 5 miles west of town. Despite leaving the comfort of the motel, it was great to be outdoors and sleeping in my tent. The next day the rest of our Adventure Cycling group arrived, set up their tents, and got aquainted. Since our first meeting wasn’t planned until dinner time, I decided to cycle around Whitefish Lake. It was a peaceful journey and provided more great photo opportunities. In the evening we had a formal get acquainted meeting at the KOA lodge. Dinner of pizza and beer was enjoyed <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3f_5WdmqBZwElBgUDS-5s3SI5D-rlHQCvc8FA56Y-xaU-Agd69YBrA1MHNWU3gJYz8PQS6sYdoVUEp21FguZBAApDpdEExUGmFwsyNAcp8RK3-tqzeTgZcDL0yx4AhABRUINw6fQRSoo/s1600-h/IMG_0415.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170887879330197794" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3f_5WdmqBZwElBgUDS-5s3SI5D-rlHQCvc8FA56Y-xaU-Agd69YBrA1MHNWU3gJYz8PQS6sYdoVUEp21FguZBAApDpdEExUGmFwsyNAcp8RK3-tqzeTgZcDL0yx4AhABRUINw6fQRSoo/s320/IMG_0415.JPG" border="0" /></a>by all as we discussed the morning’s bus tip to Jasper in Alberta, Canada where our cycling journey was to begin. During the bus ride we stopped to photograph the mountain goats grazing along the road.<br /><br />The town of Jasper is at the northern end of Jasper National Park. Established in 1907, Jasper National Park is the largest national park in the Canadian Rockies with 10,878 square kilometers of mountain wilderness. We camped in the park and cycled into town to purchase the food for the next 3 days. We were leaving civilization for wilderness camping where no food was available (or showers, or flush toilets, etc). On the way out of Jasper the next morning I photographed an elk grazing near our camp. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9V_O_-_DPT-3FSFQw3hcbjSWjsQ7EzdIps0fQh71RoNc7oxqflmnNJrg_irr0WMDK8HBAuxmeEg6PaJhR3-_Cw_X-nWfq5QPpIzAzKCjxHppr8j7ETZG9zJRF7dlXiSKJ5sqzrY59qnI/s1600-h/IMG_0418.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170889090510975298" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9V_O_-_DPT-3FSFQw3hcbjSWjsQ7EzdIps0fQh71RoNc7oxqflmnNJrg_irr0WMDK8HBAuxmeEg6PaJhR3-_Cw_X-nWfq5QPpIzAzKCjxHppr8j7ETZG9zJRF7dlXiSKJ5sqzrY59qnI/s320/IMG_0418.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />For the first 20 miles, our route took us along the Athabasca River toward the Athabasca Falls. The falls were not large but an impressive amount of water moved over them and it provided another postcard moment.<br /><br />By day’s end I cycled 47 miles to the Jones Creek campground and the journey there provided more picturesque views. The campground was rustic. It had no showers and only pit toilets. Like most of the campsites on this trip we had to put food items into metal bear boxes and make sure that no food or even tooth paste went into our tents. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPpmyGcddiKQWKXlCI9LjGX0v50J24lrk-luHUeHUFhos6PSFMajoEGGbFnjUvA0AKZeMQ8bm3SN0uKqBdYdXfGZtAF1sk87tCHBrDz01brPD5oP6HxIIj16Ljgq4wZR_4QIc8asdXATg/s1600-h/IMG_0423.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170890039698747746" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPpmyGcddiKQWKXlCI9LjGX0v50J24lrk-luHUeHUFhos6PSFMajoEGGbFnjUvA0AKZeMQ8bm3SN0uKqBdYdXfGZtAF1sk87tCHBrDz01brPD5oP6HxIIj16Ljgq4wZR_4QIc8asdXATg/s320/IMG_0423.JPG" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGQ298rxoli4sDhs12J2KjeyxlsdM9eeMsJBI4bf0kXRb56NtML8sGZKGYT82MNcsu9qI4vh-Qbk_n3oTBwrN73E2rwIJ2ECaBFJtAaStYwVtA6Orh8vyIiH5-Hry1bpaJTwj9sFL9pvs/s1600-h/IMG_0431.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170890988886520178" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGQ298rxoli4sDhs12J2KjeyxlsdM9eeMsJBI4bf0kXRb56NtML8sGZKGYT82MNcsu9qI4vh-Qbk_n3oTBwrN73E2rwIJ2ECaBFJtAaStYwVtA6Orh8vyIiH5-Hry1bpaJTwj9sFL9pvs/s320/IMG_0431.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The next morning started off with cold temperatures (in the 40-degree range) as we left the campground and cycled on The Icefields Parkway. We had some serious climbs and along two scenic rivers—the Sunwapta and Saskatchewan. We stopped at the Athabasac Glacier for a tour. The Glacier is part of the Columbia Icefield and located in Jasper National Park. To get to the glacier we boarded special vehicles that looked like RVs with monster truck tires. These vehicles took us onto the glacier where we got out and walked around. Most of us were bundled up with extra clothing but it was still cold. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQNlAe2_JrJQhGpSm1UEkfVgyGqI0-Rdmcrrw6-odczjpZWyyrI2Pcb9UJ6Lu2n0TChUgcExQj7NETqVi9Ozv9rnmcwS51Cf2q3WM8KJcQBitvBNB9KHb7Pl-PPjBbqRRj_vcnJuagSq4/s1600-h/IMG_0441.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170891817815208322" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQNlAe2_JrJQhGpSm1UEkfVgyGqI0-Rdmcrrw6-odczjpZWyyrI2Pcb9UJ6Lu2n0TChUgcExQj7NETqVi9Ozv9rnmcwS51Cf2q3WM8KJcQBitvBNB9KHb7Pl-PPjBbqRRj_vcnJuagSq4/s320/IMG_0441.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Continuing on the Icefield Parkway we cycled up Sunwapta Pass at 6,676 feet. The mountain was full of wild flowers including many “Indian Paint Brush” plants in different colors. At the bottom of the overlook was a very blue colored lake.<br /><br />So far most of our cycling has been in what is called “a sub-Alpine area” – the areas just below the no-tree zone. The trees in this zone were small for their age. That night we camped at Rampart Creek—another rustic campground. My soapless bath in the glacier-fed creek was very cold and quick. While we only cycled 41-miles it was a long and tiring day.<br /><br />Finally, we headed back to “civilization” with a 57-mile journey to Lake Louise. Lake Louise is a resort town with a large and civilized campground. Food was available in the village not far from the campground. However, the lake and resort area were a steep 2.5-mile climb up the mountain. The lake sits at the foot of a glacier and was well worth the effort to get there. Unfortunately, none of my pictures captured this wonderful scene.<br /><br />We left Alberta and entered British Columbia on a short cycling day to the Marble Falls campground—our last rustic place. On the way to Castle Junction I stopped to watch a large male elk grazing just off the road. I was amazed at both the size of this animal and his indifference to the tourists watching him eat. While the day’s ride was only 28 miles we did have a climb that took some time as we cycled over Vermilion Pass (5,145 feet) to our campground.<br /><br />During our evening meal a sociable small black bear came up to where we were eating. While I ran for my camera, others decided to make noise to scare it away—so no up-close photos of cute baby bears. However, that incident did provide much levity later on. During the night one of our cyclists woke up coughing but the fellow in the next tent thought the noise was a bear. He screamed and tried to get out of his tent. In his panicked state it took him awhile to emerge from the tent and by the time he got out the rest of us were standing around looking for the “bear.” When the fellow with the cough started hacking again the panicked fellow realized that he had not heard a bear and when he admitted it, the group had a good laugh—for many days afterwards.<br /><br />Next morning we started off with a nice down hill ride but we had a hard climb over Sinclair Pass at 4,875 feet. The climb was long but the downhill to Radium Hot Springs was great—once it got started. The pass had a false top and required climbing for several additional miles after we thought we crossed the pass. Except for the mosquitoes, the Radium Hot Springs campground was nice. It was called Canyon RV Park and was literally in a small wet canyon (with an 8% grade below the highway) that served as a mosquito breeding ground. Most of our meals were eaten in the campground and we took turns cooking and cleaning up. This night’s meal was created by our tour leader. He made a Thai dish consisting of rice, spinach, peanut butter, pineapple, Tabasco sauce, onions, and green peppers. It was a big hit but as soon as we were done eating the mosquitoes attacked in full force. The cleanup crew put on extra clothing and the rest of us headed for our tents.<br /><div id="ms__id4893"><div id="ms__id4894"><div id="ms__id4895"><div id="ms__id4896"><div id="ms__id4888"><div id="ms__id4889"><div id="ms__id4890"><div id="ms__id4869"><div id="ms__id4870"><div id="ms__id4871"><div id="ms__id4872"><div id="ms__id4859"><div id="ms__id4932"><br />Thankful that the mosquitoes sent us to bed early, we got up the next morning facing a hard cycling day of 70 miles. We passed through Columbia National Wildlife Area and the town of Invermere. Invermere (with a population of nearly 3,000) was hosting a lively farmers market and craft fair in its historic district. Once we left the town the ride got less enjoyable as the <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKNdNgsRU97zmahlke_TCZCcAEWoqF6QbaO2SoSmCMYLo-cVYEhbS8b5UN8uO3CphlqfQLaNft7hnNleoDgfnLvQSeMF39np72aVILBIoxvp5z9qypnpitYXZZU3br9lL_PmjBERNUHXU/s1600-h/IMG_0522.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170893226564481426" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKNdNgsRU97zmahlke_TCZCcAEWoqF6QbaO2SoSmCMYLo-cVYEhbS8b5UN8uO3CphlqfQLaNft7hnNleoDgfnLvQSeMF39np72aVILBIoxvp5z9qypnpitYXZZU3br9lL_PmjBERNUHXU/s320/IMG_0522.JPG" border="0" /></a>weather got warm and the road conditions deteriorated. We cycled around Windermere Lake but did not get to see much of it. We posed for a group picture at Hoodoos’ Mountain but no <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTLO17_9DGGu769ChNf3KtZL-sp9DaEj_daQxSdxcgLzdgUUwmm3SRNVOK6puhFR-E6g8ZwyyU9KaInAaaxiKnEZBUWHK5WGP9Ze699sxYZupdL3GsCDAZU7yQ1vQP7UMjrlKK2hyp8CI/s1600-h/IMG_0523.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170893230859448738" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTLO17_9DGGu769ChNf3KtZL-sp9DaEj_daQxSdxcgLzdgUUwmm3SRNVOK6puhFR-E6g8ZwyyU9KaInAaaxiKnEZBUWHK5WGP9Ze699sxYZupdL3GsCDAZU7yQ1vQP7UMjrlKK2hyp8CI/s320/IMG_0523.JPG" border="0" /></a>one wanted to move so that the mountain would be in the background. Later several of us stopped for lunch at the Fresh Garden Café in a very small town called Canal Flats. Ironically, while the food was good, there were no fresh garden items on the menu. Even the strong riders complained about the day’s ride. That night the group camped at Wasa Lake but I checked into a motel next to the campground. I rationalized that a bed and hot shower were required to rejuvenate my tired body.<br /><br />I knew I made a good decision the next morning when the group complained that a noisy party in the campground kept them up most of the night. We had another 70-mile day and I was ready. Joe and I left early and missed a turn at Fort Steele, taking us on the main highway. Our ride was nice because of low traffic and a tail wind. We stopped in Jaffray at a country club for breakfast and then decided to stay off route as we headed toward Elko. Because it was later in the morning our route had more traffic but it was not bad. It got hot by the time we reached Elko where we stopped for several milk shakes (each!) before starting on the last leg to Fernie. Our map indicated that we would have rolling hills the rest of the way. However, the map was wrong. After an initial climb out of Elko we had easy cycling and nice scenery. I even stopped to cool off in the Elk River. In Fernie we stayed at the Raging Elk Hostel.<br /><br /><br />Fernie was our first and only layover day. It was a good-sized town with a population of 4,600. However, no one was in town. We were there during a Canadian national holiday similar to our Labor Day with most shops being closed. The 14 people in town belonged to our group. We spent most of our free time eating and resting.<br /><br />Leaving Fernie we head for Blairmore and the Lost Lemon Campground. It was a 46-mile day over Crowsnest Pass at 4,457 feet. At the beginning of the day we continued to cycle along the<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVcYR2sTEZg-kuTf-SdFdQOMjIfJxWZ4iG_B_GLCsQeQnOvXoAI5nlgyfsaAHhblEkdSb9Kzw2dc_wF6GM7iUxdqN_OLnUJeGYZkWF_Ny8AKMCp9fjTEChnHu6GuQl3RfN0y_aboQESQk/s1600-h/IMG_0532.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170893235154416050" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVcYR2sTEZg-kuTf-SdFdQOMjIfJxWZ4iG_B_GLCsQeQnOvXoAI5nlgyfsaAHhblEkdSb9Kzw2dc_wF6GM7iUxdqN_OLnUJeGYZkWF_Ny8AKMCp9fjTEChnHu6GuQl3RfN0y_aboQESQk/s320/IMG_0532.JPG" border="0" /></a> Elk River as we head to Sparwood. At Sparwood we stopped for photo ops at the “world’s largest truck.” Leaving Sprawood we start to climb into the coal mining area as we head for Crowsnest Pass which is also the boarder between British Columbia and Alberta. After crossing the pass we enjoyed 15 miles of down hill cycling. It rained in the evening, the first rain of the trip. Despite the rain the cooks put together a good evening meal.<br /><br />The day started out with a continuation of the previous day’s down hill until we got to Lee’s Lake Road where the terrain became hilly—not steep hills but constant ups and downs. As we got closer to the town of Pincher Creek we were blessed with a nice tail wind and passed fields of wind driven electrical generators. However, leaving Pincher Creek the terrain again was rolling hills combined with moderate cross winds. We were in the Canadian Plains but heading back into the Rocky Mountains. Overall, it was a tough 66 miles to Waterton Lake National Park—our campground for the evening. Near the park entrance we saw two black bears just off the road and in the town we encountered a very tame deer walking the streets…so much for “wildlife.”<br /><br />Before leaving Waterton Lake that morning the group had a fancy breakfast at the Prince Edward Hotel that overlooked the lake. It was good that we had a great breakfast because we had a long climb out of the park. Later, we went through the Canadian-U.S. border and up Chief Mountain International Highway. Coming down the other side was a fast and fun ride. At the interchange with route 89 we met up with two more fellows from our 2002 cross-country trip (they drove up from Missoula, MT to join us for several days). We cycled 48 miles to Saint Mary where we stayed at the Johnson RV Park.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYUOsQ63eJREYzNWr1lIhyphenhyphenLgYpVm3pDHsrq43JUale1rfgENmGU8_E8vkAukl-9P4L_IxfPdRb1BMrhmZteQoBHpQef-l7svEGGlCCFJEjvoTSRowe7yX6qkV9_Ry3nMSa9lxuHkYFJXY/s1600-h/IMG_0611.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170895189364535746" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYUOsQ63eJREYzNWr1lIhyphenhyphenLgYpVm3pDHsrq43JUale1rfgENmGU8_E8vkAukl-9P4L_IxfPdRb1BMrhmZteQoBHpQef-l7svEGGlCCFJEjvoTSRowe7yX6qkV9_Ry3nMSa9lxuHkYFJXY/s320/IMG_0611.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Leaving Saint Mary we faced our last, but best climb of the trip. We cycled from East Glacier up the Road-to-the-Sun Highway that runs through Glacier National Park. It was a long but beautiful climb to the top. However, it was not a difficult climb and had lots of great places to stop and smell the roses—waterfalls, overlooks and switchbacks. At the top, the group gathered at the Logan Pass Visitor’s Center for pictures and to kill time before we descended into West Glacier (because of traffic concerns, the road is closed to cyclists until the afternoon). Of course we had another fantastic downhill ride! At the bottom of the hill Joe and I stopped at a lodge and posed with an “old prospector” for a comic postcard. Our 52 mile day took us to a KOA campground just west of the park. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSdYqU-a577mH5no3V32CYRLqA2Mfeq1RWI4FACAbNWMmo3TRcrGn1ldrdm1KYq-cy4tS66XqGIa3H3PQlAOWJpiqhCrNARXRfSqb5YZYWEm3TcVTx2n9At-PyRNpbNNGzk805MyGm4C0/s1600-h/IMG_0602.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170898221611446754" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSdYqU-a577mH5no3V32CYRLqA2Mfeq1RWI4FACAbNWMmo3TRcrGn1ldrdm1KYq-cy4tS66XqGIa3H3PQlAOWJpiqhCrNARXRfSqb5YZYWEm3TcVTx2n9At-PyRNpbNNGzk805MyGm4C0/s320/IMG_0602.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The final ride of the trip was taken in the rain. Some of us missed the “low traffic” route and decided to get to Whitefish the quickest way. While there was a little more traffic we were early enough not to have any problems. We flew over the 27-mile route and got to the motel in about 2 hours. While I was wet and dirty I felt great. After checking into the motel and taking a long hot shower I met the rest of the group at Truby’s for a final lunch.<br /><br />Our train home was 2 hours late getting to Whitefish. A train derailment earlier had slowed <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjV0uOOiFYtuUlEGEGMDimA6bAIyIMbuYZ_lLo8-OkmTLbx2HahYwJJs67E3Y2mpQwJ-paXN9EX5sfBa2p6z1QIaKNrujJbQKbKzsrUbjOjDBetPko6ymwXzZ0tVKA0HyL0h4LfeaqoOM/s1600-h/IMG_0625.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170895202249437650" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjV0uOOiFYtuUlEGEGMDimA6bAIyIMbuYZ_lLo8-OkmTLbx2HahYwJJs67E3Y2mpQwJ-paXN9EX5sfBa2p6z1QIaKNrujJbQKbKzsrUbjOjDBetPko6ymwXzZ0tVKA0HyL0h4LfeaqoOM/s320/IMG_0625.JPG" border="0" /></a>eastbound traffic. Thus we were very late getting to Chicago and I missed my train to DC. However, the guys going to NY were able to get on their train that was also late getting to Chicago. Amtrak put me on a train that went through Philadelphia, PA that was scheduled to arrive in Washington, DC at 8 p.m. the next day. However, it was not all bad news. Riding in the same train car was a Blues band returning from a festival in Spokane, WA and they willingly entertained us. </div><br /><div id="ms__id4933"><br />The delays continued and I did not get to Washington, DC until 2 a.m. on the following day--14 hours after my originally scheduled time. At that hour of the morning the train station was deserted and the Metro and taxies were not running. However, my son was there and he took me home. </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>yellowbiketaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03930267735169346620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8612292389702167581.post-22496138160258660412008-02-19T07:20:00.000-05:002008-02-25T07:47:55.335-05:00Grand Canyon-Zion-Brice National Parks<div id="ms__id15142"><div id="ms__id13881"><br /><div id="ms__id13870"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqka4pR9PtDJA7_Rfr5HhXDwu2yJ55PUTO7yxQfTdMTmMyWrhPJqON9e4dxeWF1w5xUEnTDJq3PPcH6Fw5C7IW1VUZoEcE_2hdkwJJZ9Z7rMMblKswApFr6RdipTOzoV_mC5uRdjNMW00/s1600-h/061+Jeff+entering+Utah.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168666565194379202" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqka4pR9PtDJA7_Rfr5HhXDwu2yJ55PUTO7yxQfTdMTmMyWrhPJqON9e4dxeWF1w5xUEnTDJq3PPcH6Fw5C7IW1VUZoEcE_2hdkwJJZ9Z7rMMblKswApFr6RdipTOzoV_mC5uRdjNMW00/s320/061+Jeff+entering+Utah.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL3cpD3bIyY9E4Tzk206_4DI8vzK51Avr6nZhO5BjlsVC-oXf5q8cNcyRMJINPbQKlxIJq9BSgvwARZe8WMZ0TllwCCKeBQNoq1N6FrRForrZQVHVCAj8N2QNi1Kuopsg9xFcs7TRCpEc/s1600-h/019+Grand+Canyon+Sun+rise.JPG"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div id="ms__id13553">Grand Canyon-Zion-Bryce National Parks<br />2005 Cycling Trip<br /><br />Travel log<br /><br /><br />September 16: The journey began with an early morning flight from Dulles Airport to Las Vegas, NV. While in Las Vegas Larry (a friend from Northern Virginia) and I did the usual tourist things. As “big spenders” we each risked one dollar on the slot machines.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4bDRsP8YP8dCNEMld_EvxMbTPhw8u-72kc8zcVqGvS9f7G3fJi1JOuS34AqnpE7ageUCYm4SD-pPf6ruML-EvWinbdOQfcG6YhbklYC1lVPqaxyel-WW4HPYxZ3WZTAsH5wBPRu4eg5U/s1600-h/006+Las+Vegas-+Paris.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168666582374248402" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4bDRsP8YP8dCNEMld_EvxMbTPhw8u-72kc8zcVqGvS9f7G3fJi1JOuS34AqnpE7ageUCYm4SD-pPf6ruML-EvWinbdOQfcG6YhbklYC1lVPqaxyel-WW4HPYxZ3WZTAsH5wBPRu4eg5U/s320/006+Las+Vegas-+Paris.JPG" border="0" /></a> I played the quarter machine and Larry played the penny machine. I was board with the slot machine and quit after losing my dollar. Larry could figure out all the buttons and leavers on the penny machine but once he realized that he was $1.92 ahead he quit playing. After that we walked down the strip checking out the eclectic architecture, tourist, and the other people on the streets.<br /><br />September 17: Cycle America (our tour provider) met us at the hotel where we loaded our gear and bikes for the trip to the north rim of the Grand Canyon. We stopped at St. George, UT where we met the rest of our group and transferred from vans to a bus for the remaining portion of the trip. Cycle America made all the arrangements, provided lodging and meals, and carried our gear each day.<br /><br />When we got off the bus we were literally on the north rim of the Grand Canyon. The canyon rim lay just a few feet from where I pitched my tent. What an awesome view and what an awesome place to camp! I never imagined the canyon as I saw it. Photographs and TV images don’t capture the canyon’s grandeur. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho8JKvNhMKepdiW1xLSBJUBcHkvzMpLibZb8uH7G5m2o197-dbqvzdxb3ZuY4qfQGz251b_ur_B7MFTIqlwnj-PN6tCBswlQwlM0WF6PmATuGEanSiV65Mgsth0mFHeKvFNiA9InDWfmk/s1600-h/017+North+Rim.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168666590964183010" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho8JKvNhMKepdiW1xLSBJUBcHkvzMpLibZb8uH7G5m2o197-dbqvzdxb3ZuY4qfQGz251b_ur_B7MFTIqlwnj-PN6tCBswlQwlM0WF6PmATuGEanSiV65Mgsth0mFHeKvFNiA9InDWfmk/s320/017+North+Rim.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />That night we had dinner in the Lodge and our table overlooked the canyon. My dinner companions were Larry, John (a hard core cyclists from Florida), and Kelly (an ultra-marathoner from North Carolina). After dinner John led us back to camp taking the rim trail. Despite the dark it was a scenic 1.2-mile walk just feet from the canyon’s edge.<br /><br />During the night the winds roared like a freight train but my tent was calm. I was hearing the draft coming out of the canyon—it was hot in the canyon and cool on top—not surface winds.<br /><br />September 18: Today started with an early morning walk (temperatures were in the 40-degree <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCq3qBCAboFt_Spu18Hx72kCoGIi-53mYp975wY4IMuob7lhnMMqJ6fzhRGiJnxhacE-Z64o-AJE8QPCQOVmZ66q9lxnxfk4eviFp8ZDjmpULY0hIr9-eoOo5Wu4nSsbv7rDAJnvHvJ78/s1600-h/023+Grand+Canyon+Sun+Rise+.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168666603849084930" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCq3qBCAboFt_Spu18Hx72kCoGIi-53mYp975wY4IMuob7lhnMMqJ6fzhRGiJnxhacE-Z64o-AJE8QPCQOVmZ66q9lxnxfk4eviFp8ZDjmpULY0hIr9-eoOo5Wu4nSsbv7rDAJnvHvJ78/s320/023+Grand+Canyon+Sun+Rise+.JPG" border="0" /></a>range) to see the sun rise over the canyon. Actually, it is not so much to see the sunrise; rather it was to see the sun lighting up the canyon. As the sun gets higher the light goes deeper into the canyon. After breakfast at the lodge I assembled my bike and took it for a test ride to Point Imperial. I was told that this location was the best place in the park to see the California condor—but none made an appearance for us. However, this location did provide excellent vistas. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpV93suf8WboU4oMMDMes3ng5YNoyfm4peSoFHg6ISm2yuCp0n_AFmMxLDa6Kx7hpdEdvg-_oPU2tkXBvXynQOBI5rESWsjnerWYxl9ChOuLSZquEShQfu0sjG3CMce4tnXnvWaPJ3TLE/s1600-h/025+Point+Imperial.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168668034073194514" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpV93suf8WboU4oMMDMes3ng5YNoyfm4peSoFHg6ISm2yuCp0n_AFmMxLDa6Kx7hpdEdvg-_oPU2tkXBvXynQOBI5rESWsjnerWYxl9ChOuLSZquEShQfu0sjG3CMce4tnXnvWaPJ3TLE/s320/025+Point+Imperial.JPG" border="0" /></a>Our 22-mile round trip ride involved several climbs but the view of the eastern canyon was worth the effort. At the top Larry and I met Tracy (from Minnesota) and Lily (from Holland but living in Switzerland) and a couple riding a tandem with a place for their dog.<br /><br />September 19: The serious cycling begins as we head 80 miles to Kanab, UT (on our way to Zion National Park). It was a cold start with temperatures again in the 40-degree range. However the day quickly warmed up and I stripped along the way. We climbed 2,500 feet out of the Park and got unto a flat open prairie that went for miles. We climbed to over 8,800 feet before we stopped for lunch at Jacob Lake (43 miles into our ride). At mile 55 we reached the scenic view of the Vermilion Cliffs National Monument Wilderness and then we descended into the desert—a 6 percent grade and drop of 5,000 feet. My average speed for the day was 15.4 miles per hour. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqrj9VTsaT2pbfpJN0Z-PqirWsPcxaidTkwc3UyUcXTSpxHnyH-MIwGE3YreMXAtDdZ3SGRezvKW5woFrcJoMKDVAt-dEisk80-WpryJYT3B7VXo5z9rGN0smqql9aW3yiszoDYILJqK8/s1600-h/058+Desert+on+the+way+to+Kanab.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168668046958096434" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqrj9VTsaT2pbfpJN0Z-PqirWsPcxaidTkwc3UyUcXTSpxHnyH-MIwGE3YreMXAtDdZ3SGRezvKW5woFrcJoMKDVAt-dEisk80-WpryJYT3B7VXo5z9rGN0smqql9aW3yiszoDYILJqK8/s320/058+Desert+on+the+way+to+Kanab.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Part of my speed must be attributed to the terrain but some resulted from my trying to catch Larry. At one point I stopped to strip off some extra clothes which took me less than a minute. When I started up again I could not see Larry. I cycled faster and faster but could not get a glimpse of him. Unknown to me Larry pulled off just after I did but I did not see him. He spent the hour trying to catch me as I was racing to catch him. We both had a good laugh when we met at the lunch stop.<br /><br />That night we camped at a commercial campground. Our dinner was provided by the Lariats—a high school dance team—as a fundraiser. They made us a Mexican meal and served it in a school cafeteria. Afterwards the Lariats performed several routines that they were planning to use in national competition.<br /><br />September 20: Our day started with breakfast at Houston’s Trails End restaurant in Kanab. Cycling that day should have been easy with only a 45-mile journey to Zion National Park. However, I found it tiring.<br /><br />Just out of Kanab we passed Best Friends Animal Sanctuary—a several thousand-acre shelter that takes in animals from around the country. Many of the cyclists stopped for a tour of these facilities. Larry, Tracy, Lily and I cycled together most of the day. We took a side trip to find the Pink Coral Sand Dunes State Park but after cycling several miles off-route we were told that the<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih8D73Yej6wjQAHS8k5CCPLGMNli5lQhcUFzZNWRBDq95ODr7abbFoze70qBW0BSzhOmYijEHkfeYFJ4OL96TGfXTXCw2ixc4AggRlMo9JoVTwnZhBazDEziDHREZD4grpjQDCh-nWr2k/s1600-h/066+House+in+rock.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168668051253063746" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 175px" height="259" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih8D73Yej6wjQAHS8k5CCPLGMNli5lQhcUFzZNWRBDq95ODr7abbFoze70qBW0BSzhOmYijEHkfeYFJ4OL96TGfXTXCw2ixc4AggRlMo9JoVTwnZhBazDEziDHREZD4grpjQDCh-nWr2k/s320/066+House+in+rock.JPG" width="240" border="0" /></a> park was still 10 miles away. We turned around and got back on route. We next stopped to see a home built into the mountain and a scenic view of rocks reflected in water.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidwxVkDHdFHbSauRU2qxCjbksa5GtZA59sfCbwsFDC9xiQaxkO4zZPC-BB5ZQf8uJd4vTDkb_Db6-Aom6fo6nKHMbBI4dlJ6exMHal8wOEGySLUDXoDpvaOKXFesiZ1ebZK7FDyCDnl0I/s1600-h/073+Road+to+Zion.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168668064137965650" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidwxVkDHdFHbSauRU2qxCjbksa5GtZA59sfCbwsFDC9xiQaxkO4zZPC-BB5ZQf8uJd4vTDkb_Db6-Aom6fo6nKHMbBI4dlJ6exMHal8wOEGySLUDXoDpvaOKXFesiZ1ebZK7FDyCDnl0I/s320/073+Road+to+Zion.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Entering into Zion Park was a treat. We cycled through the park’s natural wonders of colored stone wore away by the winds and rains. It was a great photo opportunity. At mile 35 we came to a 1.1-mile tunnel that went through the mountain. Cyclists are not allowed in the tunnel and we had to wait for the van to ferry our bikes to the other side. While waiting we hiked up the mountain to view both sides of the tunnel and the downhill ride that awaited us on the other side. Once we got through the tunnel we enjoyed an easy ride to Springdale—which is just at the other end of the park. We camped in a commercial campground and had our meals at the Soul Foods restaurant.<br /><br />September 21: Rather than cycling we took the park’s shuttle bus to the other end of the park where we started our hikes. The first hike was the river walk into the Narrows. The Narrows is<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDGfs6gfhmJN-ZWDaWvQqJN1FzW6fIWg8wBJzq9V2d6h0uYRW9Lc12fd1e8BA6WookZhf6MOJyqEdzFWvUdPB4PrWq0GZgcV2-h7zPwY8gMZWDS2VsEwvxxcqBYsAdaAedBHbbjYKB37Q/s1600-h/115+Zion-+Narrows.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168674231711002802" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDGfs6gfhmJN-ZWDaWvQqJN1FzW6fIWg8wBJzq9V2d6h0uYRW9Lc12fd1e8BA6WookZhf6MOJyqEdzFWvUdPB4PrWq0GZgcV2-h7zPwY8gMZWDS2VsEwvxxcqBYsAdaAedBHbbjYKB37Q/s320/115+Zion-+Narrows.JPG" border="0" /></a> literally where the canyon narrows around the Virgin River. Since it rained the night before and showers were expected during the day, the park rangers recommend that we not take this hike. However, we decided to go a little ways (less than a ½ mile into the canyon) and stopped where the water got over our knees. Many others kept going including a German couple that we spoke with. Without any apparent inhibition they dropped their packs and changed into swim wear before continuing. Our next hike was up to see the Emerald Pools. This hike involved a lot of climbing above the river and we were rewarded with some great views.<br /><br />September 22: Leaving Zion was hard because there was much more to see. My hope was that the nest park would be at least as good. Our trip to Brice National Park was to be 84 miles. It started out with a climb back up to the tunnel where we had to wait a little while for the van to shuttle us through. It was a nice climb with several switchbacks and great scenery. After getting through the tunnel we repeated our great ride through colored and carved hillsides. We saw sever sheep grazing on one hillside and the ram put on a show for us by climbing to the top and providing a great profile view. After leaving the park we had an easy ride past a Buffalo Ranch to Mt. Carmel Junction were we headed north on a long climb through Orderville and Glendale (at 5,800 feet) where the climb increased to 6 percent. We reached 7,500 feet after lunch and descended for 10 miles to 6,800 feet. After which we had to again climb as we cycled through Red Canyon up to Ruby Inn (at 7,700 feet) just outside Bryce Park. We camped behind the Ruby Inn and ate our meals at the Inn.<br /><br />September 23: In the morning a van took us from Ruby’s Inn to Bryce National Park. At first there was not much to see. It was only after we left the van and walked to the canyon’s rim did we see this park’s wonders. It was like looking over thousands of giant multi-colored chessmen. These formations are called Hoodoos. After taking the rim walk we headed down into the canyon along narrow trails on Navajo Loop and Peekaboo loop through the Queens Garden. Hiking back up we went through a formation called “wall street” for its narrow passageways and steep walls. It was a steep walk with lots of switchbacks. The earlier trails were relatively free of other hikers but this climb was very popular—with most folks heading down while we were climbing. Later we had lunch in one of the lodges near the rim and then took the van back to camp.<br /><br />September 24: Today’s ride was 85 miles to Cedar City going over Cedar Breaks at 10,600 feet. It started out with a 20 mile down hill ride where we dropped a few thousand feet before we <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghvyAw8BwiMAuK6UKyU0_fPwNFsTobrofZdg31vNjcJEQq42SgnqUChxGGrskZHC_8dDClY1BhvXQyxlC8VCxxxVnyUKG1koXgQhw7hpMyRDwI-ESbuqAyYdWCFSNZ4U5gARGdpwX1WCI/s1600-h/197+Cedar+Breaks.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168674240300937410" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghvyAw8BwiMAuK6UKyU0_fPwNFsTobrofZdg31vNjcJEQq42SgnqUChxGGrskZHC_8dDClY1BhvXQyxlC8VCxxxVnyUKG1koXgQhw7hpMyRDwI-ESbuqAyYdWCFSNZ4U5gARGdpwX1WCI/s320/197+Cedar+Breaks.JPG" border="0" /></a>started a 40-mile climb of 5,200 feet. This part of the ride was tough—besides the 4-8 percent grade we had a strong head wind with even stronger gusts hitting us head-on. By mile 52 (our lunch stop) many cyclists quit riding and took the van. I was also tired and wanted to take van but it was full when I tried to board. Rather than waiting for the van’s return, I decided to continue cycling. It took no more than a ½ mile for the road to turn and cycling became relatively wind free for the rest of the climb. I cycled to the top of Cedar Breaks but was disappointed when I could not find the elevation sign for a picture. Unlike the rest of the day’s ride, the last 20 miles were very fast with downhill grades of 6-8 percent. We camped in Cedar City and had dinner in a nearby Mexican restaurant.<br /><br />September 25: At 7:30 a.m. we are packed and head to Las Vegas through St. George where some of the cyclists left the group to fly home. I arrived in Las Vegas at 10:00 a.m. giving me time for lunch before boarding the plane home. I landed at Dulles around 8:30 p.m. and I was home by 10 p.m.</div></div></div></div>yellowbiketaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03930267735169346620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8612292389702167581.post-33300801913990933292008-02-13T10:00:00.000-05:002008-12-07T07:44:59.264-05:00Cycling Spain's Pilgrim Routes<div id="ms__id6317"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaeQE2fSutYI47G9Jmu6p46sEpEqJwFu3TqntU8HEaC5Ya_4csxyASOgoLz6yI9Xj3_ZBzwK9RpJcSSgYkzNyfZo2VEDxvpXy2UBzhr1qSiryYB8AtkkAW2arwZTsjaG_hFK_h2cq_KKE/s1600-h/IMG_2251.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166486216456630162" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaeQE2fSutYI47G9Jmu6p46sEpEqJwFu3TqntU8HEaC5Ya_4csxyASOgoLz6yI9Xj3_ZBzwK9RpJcSSgYkzNyfZo2VEDxvpXy2UBzhr1qSiryYB8AtkkAW2arwZTsjaG_hFK_h2cq_KKE/s320/IMG_2251.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div id="ms__id1271"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div id="ms__id1268">Cycling Spain’s Pilgrim Routes<br />May-June 2007<br /></div><br /><br /><div id="ms__id1269"> </div><br /><br /><div id="ms__id1270"><br />Spending several days on the Spanish Mediterranean beaches was to be the start of a dream cycling vacation. These beaches are where the “beautiful” Europeans go to play in the sun. However, on that April morning the only people on the beach were me and my four cycling friends. Contrary to our expectations of warm temperatures, we were dressed for the cold-wet weather as we departed Malaga. We spent 2 months cycling in Spain and France following the many pilgrim routes that lead to the city of Santiago di Compostela in the northwest corner of Spain. From there we headed east on pilgrim routes to Pamplona before crossing the Pyrenees Mountains into France. Finally, our nearly 2,000 mile cycling journey took us halfway across France to the city of Le Puy.<br /><br />Spain is crisscrossed with many pilgrim routes that date back over a thousand years. Over the centuries, pilgrims traveled from all over Europe to Santiago di Compostela to visit the burial site of Saint James. While the routes were developed by walkers, many can be cycled. In addition, cyclists have mapped out highway routes that are easier to traverse with touring bikes. For an overview of these pilgrim routes (called caminos) checks out <a href="http://www.mundicamino.com/">http://www.mundicamino.com/</a> and the cycling books available on the internet.<br /><br />The Journey begins<br /><br />We left Malaga on Friday the thirteenth but were not thinking of superstitions; rather our thoughts were of the big climb we faced on our first day. We headed east along the Mediterranean for about 20 miles before turning north into the mountains on our way to Granada. It was great getting started but I was not sure that a 15 mile climb was the way to get over jet lag. Along the route we were rewarded with the sweet fragrance of orange blossoms that permeated the air. (Orange trees decorate the roadways in many of the southern towns we passed through.) At the top we had relative flat cycling to our first night’s lodging about half way to Granada. It was then that we realized that their may be something to the “Friday the thirteenth” superstition. By the time we reached our hotel one of our cyclists reported having a medical problem (that we later found out to be very serious) and would not go on. We debated the implications of his return to get medical care and how we could help. It is scary to be in a foreign country with worries about getting care and getting home. We did all that we could to assure his safety but felt bad about continuing without him. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghnV2xLycwV5BYZLkwHKDmVNxyhFfDWDTegv_cyuV5BYSho7Fu9bWASxhKhS0ION9QGOFugyPrZ2HbWdG8C5b1eHg3TlTWCRnb0pLQ1VIkoGHP9RXhnsMKxRctUDucIy000MXF9-jsHaA/s1600-h/01+on+the+beach+a+Malaga.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166484696038207298" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghnV2xLycwV5BYZLkwHKDmVNxyhFfDWDTegv_cyuV5BYSho7Fu9bWASxhKhS0ION9QGOFugyPrZ2HbWdG8C5b1eHg3TlTWCRnb0pLQ1VIkoGHP9RXhnsMKxRctUDucIy000MXF9-jsHaA/s320/01+on+the+beach+a+Malaga.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The next day’s journey was filled with anxiety about our friend and the three climbs that led us into the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Unlike the previous day’s ride, these climbs were followed by some great down hills and large chain ring cycling. Our cycling fun diminished somewhat with the increased traffic as we approached Granada. While in Granada we visited the famous Alhambra Palace which overlooks the city. It was the residence of Muslim kings when they ruled Spain and gets its name from the red clay used to form the palace’s bricks.<br /><br />Leaving Granada we went northwest toward the city of Cordoba (120 miles away). Again we faced traffic getting out of the city and had to contend with thick fog—something that plagued us on many of mornings. However, the day quickly turned better as the sun came out and we cycled into the rural areas. Our climb was rewarded with grand vistas of the Sierra Nevada peaks and tens of thousands olive trees. It took several days to cycle through this area where olive trees were the only trees to be seen. Further on our way to Cordoba we cycled on a rail trail called Via Verda. While Via Verda means “greenway” the trail was in a mountainous-arid region with little in the way of green plants and trees.<br /><br />Cycling the pilgrim routes in Spain led us to many old cathedrals and churches. However, the most unique structure was Cordoba’s Mezquita (Mosque). It was built in the 700s as a mosque but was changed to a cathedral when the Muslims were driven out of Spain by the Christians. The Mezquita is very unique with over 1000 interior columns in its cavernous interior. However, I was more impressed by spirituality that overwhelmed me. I left the building with a wondrous sense that was not duplicated in the many other cathedrals I visited.<br /><br />Cycling out of Cordoba we again encounter traffic, overcast skies, and typical urban scenery. We were heading to the city of Salamanca about 300 miles northwest. It was on this section of the ride that I had a meal straight from a TV reality show. In the larger cities language was not too much of a problem but in small towns it was sometimes difficult to communicate. To further complicate eating, meat dominates Spanish meals but I prefer meatless meals. However, I enjoy fish and the meal from hell was ordered as “fish.” Up to this point in time, ordering fish brought me filleted trout but not tonight. My “fish” was a plate of sea creatures and creature parts that I did not recognize. Furthermore, the meal had an unappetizing green-gray appearance. In the spirit of international relations (and my hunger) I tried my best to eat some of it, but soon gave up. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0R0AMpLN145D_eDUZrX9I16YtYr9huHrAwOXcyr93zwckmaSOd23-dVIqmiCmShwHf0KlHV-Z2vIE0ZnEtXh9eTvu9c4vZ85TgQdrr0vX61Q0D8B8j7R24Sa98QpsqXvULEjMpS7DP0c/s1600-h/06+storks.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166484704628141922" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0R0AMpLN145D_eDUZrX9I16YtYr9huHrAwOXcyr93zwckmaSOd23-dVIqmiCmShwHf0KlHV-Z2vIE0ZnEtXh9eTvu9c4vZ85TgQdrr0vX61Q0D8B8j7R24Sa98QpsqXvULEjMpS7DP0c/s320/06+storks.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The rain and cold weather continued as we cycled another 320 miles from Salamanca to Santiago de Compostela. Putting on my rain gear was becoming a morning ritual. However, we still had many pleasant experiences. For example, we made one stop to look at some ruins that dated to the 1500s and were rewarded when the caretaker offered to let us enter and explore on our own. The building was constructed as an Abby but now just housed some farm equipment. It was interesting to wander through the remains and climb its walls without a guide telling us what to see and where to go.<br /><br />Along this section of the ride we saw lots of wind turbines that dotted many of Spain’s mountain tops. While they are picturesque, most cyclists recognize them as a forewarning of the head winds to come. Come they did one morning as we climbed to over 4,000 feet. Don Quixote would have been proud of us as we attacked the wind and the hill. Not surprising, as the wind and elevation increased, the air temperature decreased and we froze. After we topped the mountain, our expectation of a great 6 mile downhill ride was destroyed by sleet and rain. I road my breaks all the way down and could see the pads disintegrate faster than my descent. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg82qXTETi-Pd9erXv3j7uw4F6GmDVZ1klBU98PjQ87TmJ8HMMaJLXYJjkLF95ouX_NhyF9sEZp7wd72zbWRcJcZdaQTOfp92nIMO-HWUVyUu_IZPpx0U2KYxfKunyAi4s771GZBRjNl78/s1600-h/07+dark+sky.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166484713218076530" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg82qXTETi-Pd9erXv3j7uw4F6GmDVZ1klBU98PjQ87TmJ8HMMaJLXYJjkLF95ouX_NhyF9sEZp7wd72zbWRcJcZdaQTOfp92nIMO-HWUVyUu_IZPpx0U2KYxfKunyAi4s771GZBRjNl78/s320/07+dark+sky.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />For the past several weeks we had been leapfrogging with a group of Spanish mountain bikers that stayed to the trails whenever possible. Sometimes these trails became inaccessible even to the hardiest mountain bikers, forcing them to the highways. Each time we met their bikes had more layers of mud, documenting the condition of the trials. Our language differences did not stop us from communicating. One day we all ended up laughing when one of the Spanish cyclists compared his plastic bag shoe covers with similar ones worn by one of our riders. While both riders claimed that these “shoe covers” were effective, they were not fashionable. Later when we met the Spanish cyclists at the cathedral in Santiago de Compostela they were heading off for beers and we were looking for some cultural enlightenment… hum?<br /><br />Most pilgrims walk to Santiago de Compostela on the Camino Frances route that runs across the top of Spain from France. Leaving the city was like swimming into spawning salmon. The roads and trails were filled with pilgrims. All day long you would see walkers and wonder were they were coming from. They were always around the next bend or over the crest of the next hill.<br /><br />Heading east the weather was getting better and for several days we cycled through groves of eucalyptus tress that perfumed the air. We soon found ourselves in a more arid climate as we increased elevations. One of our more challenging days included 3 passes that provided fantastic vistas. At the top of each pass I marveled at my accomplishment but I was quickly humbled as I viewed the trails that the pilgrims hiked to get to where I was resting. While that day assured that I slept well, the next day’s climb over Cruz de Ferro proved even more taxing. We started at 1,500 feet and climbed to 5,000 on a day the temperatures soared into the 90s. Near the top we faced 12 percent inclines before reaching a rest stop. There was only one food stop in the village—a closet sized grocery store--where a woman made sandwiches to order and provided cold drinks. Being refreshed I was ready for the final assent. It was only another 2 miles but the incline went from 12 percent to 18 percent. I was not able to peddle my loaded bike and even had difficulty pushing it up this incline. After that the ride leveled out as I cycled along the ridge line for another hour before stopping for the night. All night long I dreamed of the great downhill ride that I would experience in the morning. However, the downhill was very gradual and did not compensate for the prior day’s climb. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9m6e1-nZAiQQBnvREATkDRIwsqKj0hZ9SVip7GRF2mV0qiTlhXNUpTrK39MMcNwAy30GiU2pCou9xR8YiupJhoxmgwgmd4snsFneh0DzQeHuytaDsPJUy4IAqhyphenhyphenKaDFvxOiBADQ0y2pA/s1600-h/10+just+after+18+percent+grade.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166484760462716802" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9m6e1-nZAiQQBnvREATkDRIwsqKj0hZ9SVip7GRF2mV0qiTlhXNUpTrK39MMcNwAy30GiU2pCou9xR8YiupJhoxmgwgmd4snsFneh0DzQeHuytaDsPJUy4IAqhyphenhyphenKaDFvxOiBADQ0y2pA/s320/10+just+after+18+percent+grade.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Late one morning I found myself at day’s destination. Either I was very fast or I did not “stop to smell the roses.” However, it was a beautiful day, it was early, and I still felt very strong. I left a note at our planned lodging telling my friends that I was going on an adventure and that I would meet them in 3 days. It was both exciting and a little scary to be on my own in a country where I could not speak the language. As I cycled out of town I knew that I would have to figure out my own meals and lodgings for 2 nights. My first night alone I spent in the city of Burgos. Burgos dates to the 9th century and has a great castle and Cathedral. Today the city is large and congested. Luckily a bike path cut right through the city and I was able to get off in the commercial district. I quickly dismissed the hotels with three and four stars and settled on one near the edge of the commercial center. With some trepidation I pushed the call button and told the receptionist that I was a pilgrim on a bike and needed a nights lodging. The response was somewhat in English and I soon had a room and a place for my bike. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJnaOPHCo3ZGRWHhdlMGlXEtKHRQzcWouxM1DwgKX7z7NpCIP1n2F9iBZ2NM24ZU_jzq4K5DOLr1WAREGbB4aLNPgreQjrpdlCqSUu40mwUdg91O7x_0-AeA2JPauPk4mVCdoOSGAfY9I/s1600-h/05+another+climb.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166484700333174610" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJnaOPHCo3ZGRWHhdlMGlXEtKHRQzcWouxM1DwgKX7z7NpCIP1n2F9iBZ2NM24ZU_jzq4K5DOLr1WAREGbB4aLNPgreQjrpdlCqSUu40mwUdg91O7x_0-AeA2JPauPk4mVCdoOSGAfY9I/s320/05+another+climb.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The next day I again passed the group’s planned lodging location and cycled the pilgrim trail over the mountain to avoid the highway traffic. My second night was in a small town and my first 2 attempts at securing a hotel were not successful. While searching for an alternative I met a Dutch couple that had reservations at a boarding house nearby. I followed them and obtained a room for the night. The next day I cycled to where I had planned to meet my friends. We did not have a predestinated lodging for that night so I waited for them at town’s tourist center.<br /><br />Our last day in Spain the weather was fantastic. We had a reasonable climb to get over the Pyrenees and into France where we planned to spend several weeks heading northeast to the city of Le Puy. As we neared the top of the mountain the weather changed. Looking back into Spain the sky was blue and the day warm. However, as we climbed the last several hundred feet to the summit we encountered thick fog. We cycled down the mountain in fog that was so thick you could not see 10 feet in front of your bike. Needless to say that slowed my descent to a crawl and had my heart racing. The farther down we got the fog lightened up but that the rain lasted for 2 more days.<br /><br />It was only fitting that the end of journey took us through one of the most scenic and serene parts of this trip. We cycled in the narrow Célé Valley. Cliffs abutted one side of the road and the Célé River flowed on the other side. Despite going through many small villages cut into the mountain there was virtually no traffic for 3 days we spent in the valley. It would be a great place to spend more time. The river was used for canoeing and kayaking and most villages offered interesting cafés. Located near the town of Sauliac-sur-Célé we passed the “Museum of the Unusual” that possessed some of the strangest art work that I have ever seen. The museum was inhabited by an eccentric artist that chased us when we stopped to photograph his unusual creations.<br /><br />Our journey ended with a few more climbs and a long decent into Le Puy. From there we took the train to Switzerland where I packed my bike and gear for the flight home.</div></div></div>yellowbiketaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03930267735169346620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8612292389702167581.post-9056861811887271812008-02-13T09:45:00.000-05:002008-03-02T07:21:33.786-05:00Cycling Key West<div id="ms__id31892"><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166478747508502306" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXOCq9AfiODmDHS3xePF8gG7uaORtPMlR82hEqFgWCNQMfygZb5maKHMwz3PKnXzJv9Vx_6gjzCfymyVZ-9ykfqzONrZYQaJd2o-JwO3RaetYllzLE7suW3h4dV8B9k3DI-fKCiPgaZYY/s320/IMG_0398_1.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><div id="ms__id31683">A Great Winter Ride:<br />The Key West Loop<br />January 2008<br /></div><br /><div id="ms__id31685">(Published in Spokes, March 2008)</div><br /><div id="ms__id31684"><br />Each winter I get the blues as I put on warmer clothes to keep cycling. However, I do have my limits and will not get on my bike if I look like the Pillsbury Doughboy on two wheels. So when I left my Falls Church home in January and headed south I was not dressed warn enough for our winter weather but overdressed for my destination. I was cycling to Key West where the temperatures are much warmer. Since I planned to be away for only 2 weeks I wasn’t actually cycling all the way to Key West but rather to the Amtrak train station in Alexandria.<br /><br />I like train travel and find it especially bike/biker friendly. For $10, Amtrak provides a large bike box that only requires turning the handlebars and removing the pedals. In addition, Amtrak charges a $5 bike handling fee. At your destination, the stations will keep your bike box for the return trip and you will only be charged another $5 handling fee. On several occasions, the stations have given me free bike boxes that were left by other cyclists at the end of their journey. Compared to the airlines, which require more disassembly and an $80 one way fee, this is easy and inexpensive. I carry my panniers onto the coach and store them above my seat. I usually pack a dinner and snack for breakfast for the 15 hour trip. While air travel is quicker, I enjoy the time to relax and find that Amtrak coach travel is usually very sociable.<br /><br />After spending several days with my mother in central Florida, I met my cycling buddy in Sebring, were we started our journey to Key West. After assembling our bikes at the train station we were already hot and sweaty but only had a short ride to our first night’s lodging—the first of several cheap motels. It felt strange trying to cool off in January but we set the motel’s air conditioner on “artic blast” as we tried to adjust to the high 70 degree temperatures.<br /><br />Early the next morning we stared our 60 mile cycling journey to Labelle, our next destination. We left Sebring on Route 17 which provide a low traffic route through citrus orchards. As the heat climbed into the low 80s we found that fresh picked oranges were truly a cyclist’s gift from God. Route 17 took us to the small town of Lake Placid (Florida, not the one in New York state). There the route disappeared. After some consultations and misdirection we ended up cycling down US 27, a four-lane highway but with wide shoulders and not an unreasonable amount of traffic. However, we did not find any food or water stops along this highway. By the time we reached the Route 29 turnoff that would take us the last 15 miles to Labelle we were whipped. While the cycling was flat, it was hot, we had loaded bicycles, and we averaged 14-16 mph. We were able to refill our water bottles at a forest service facility and rested along stream where we watched the alligators watch us. In Labelle we stayed at another cheap motel but refreshed ourselves with excellent food and cold beer. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjNpEFTJhqBhhVrnNNnFdebzi7zl8rdK4zcwNV1qbpQzpbr_w0r1XM0JNxAjrAMQtI1bAPVL3hSJCoUAkMYd1zhaBgchBWd_eZndcxYkEKhZRRrIYjbHx_4bxj1qaBuX3OPBILmZ-XN28/s1600-h/IMG_0384_1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166478721738698482" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjNpEFTJhqBhhVrnNNnFdebzi7zl8rdK4zcwNV1qbpQzpbr_w0r1XM0JNxAjrAMQtI1bAPVL3hSJCoUAkMYd1zhaBgchBWd_eZndcxYkEKhZRRrIYjbHx_4bxj1qaBuX3OPBILmZ-XN28/s320/IMG_0384_1.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Our second day of cycling was even warmer as we headed to Ft. Myers Beach. We followed Adventure Cycling Association’s Florida Connector route that, for the most part, kept us out of traffic by using rural roads, bike trails, and some urban sidewalks. After cycling nearly 60 miles we found another cheap motel near where the Key West ferry docked. There we met the third member of our group who gave up sleeping in a Sanibel Island resort to stay with us (makes you wonder about cyclist’s judgment). Surprisingly, during our journey we found that motels were generally cheaper than staying in campgrounds. That evening we had another great meal and even more cold beer. Since we were not cycling the next day, my cycling companions decided to party the night away…not me, I crashed early.<br /><br />The ferry only took 3.5 hours to get to Key West but the transformation was light years in the making as we disembarked into a tropical paradise. We quickly gave up the thought of looking for our camp ground and had lunch at a dockside restaurant. We planned to stay at the nearest campground which was 6 miles from all the downtown activity. However, the more we enjoyed being in the heart of Key West the less we wanted to cycle out of the downtown area. Eventually, we sacrificed our campground deposit and spent even more money for a great hotel at the other end of Duval Street. Duval Street is where most of the Key West’s action occurs. It has 100s of restaurants, bars, and shops to keep you entertained all day and all night long. Many places have live bands and singers and the entertainment never seem to stop. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQPqnNKDyb41fhQ_km9k_i8RzxCZbbaiCb_2uJGvr28JUNnbNRG64XK1ryze3k43B0VBdeiATn7AbUsXldfGqipPebIZgp2Rb0iMpi3XeT3WYy-szScj-2SVrQTbxpoX8HoYIv6qdSfPI/s1600-h/IMG_0387_1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166478734623600386" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQPqnNKDyb41fhQ_km9k_i8RzxCZbbaiCb_2uJGvr28JUNnbNRG64XK1ryze3k43B0VBdeiATn7AbUsXldfGqipPebIZgp2Rb0iMpi3XeT3WYy-szScj-2SVrQTbxpoX8HoYIv6qdSfPI/s320/IMG_0387_1.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The next morning we split up and I decided to do many of the touristy things. I went to the buoy marking the southern most spot on the continental United States, took pictures of the original lighthouse, toured Hemingway’s home and the local art museum. We met for lunch at Sloppy Joe’s restaurant and had a drink at Jimmy Buffets’ Margaritaville. The afternoon was consumed with a good nap in perpetration for a long night. In the evening we went to the western end of Duval Street to watch the sun set into the ocean and see the street performers in Mallory Square. Some of the acts were very entertaining—magicians, escape artists, vaudeville acts, etc.—others were just out to hustle a few bucks. After the street entertainment we headed for dinner, key lime pie, and then some live music. I crashed long before my friends but we were all able to get up the following morning for our 70 mile ride to Layton (on Long Key). <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmXcuuvalEHt17F-j3HMC9NW1LQ5hI9Ngld1CYx6GxJv9YrDRq1fLdjOsrlVH1LNcAAvI4Yh8v6g4u66FTfZVwVovArvefqv4eSU0zbQNdyT8sk1SSWbhCn1o_n_4QXYH3LQH89BX7EXs/s1600-h/IMG_0395_1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166478743213534994" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmXcuuvalEHt17F-j3HMC9NW1LQ5hI9Ngld1CYx6GxJv9YrDRq1fLdjOsrlVH1LNcAAvI4Yh8v6g4u66FTfZVwVovArvefqv4eSU0zbQNdyT8sk1SSWbhCn1o_n_4QXYH3LQH89BX7EXs/s320/IMG_0395_1.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Once again the temperature reached 85 degrees, requiring us to make lots of stops along the way. Mostly we cycled on the shoulder but at times used bike paths when shoulders disappeared or traffic got heavy. I anticipated having some degree of “island fever” on these narrow pieces of land but it never came. Even crossing the “7-mile Bridge” did not raise any concerns. In fact it was fun to stop and watch the birds swoop down over the heads of my friends. It looked like the birds were checking out my friends for their next meal. We arrived at the KOA campground around 4 pm and were told that happy hour just started at the Tiki Bar which meant that putting up our tents and getting showers were going to be delayed. Despite carrying tents and sleeping bags this was our first night to use them. While the KOA was fine, in hind sight I would not carry camping gear on this trip. There are lots of motel options and my bike would have been lighter.<br /><br />The next morning I woke up to a flat tire, the second one in our group. After a short delay we headed north on Route 1 and parallel bike paths. Some of the paths near Key Largo were in terrible shape but with highway construction we did not have any option. For most of the trip we were averaging 14-16 mph with loaded bikes but even 10 mph was difficult here because of the rough surfaces. (Supposedly, the last phase of the highway construction includes trail resurfacing.) From Key Largo, our Adventure Cycling map recommended that we cycle the Card Sound Road rather than using the more direct Route 1. The local folks that we talked to concurred that this was the better route. They said that the construction on this part of Route 1 required that bikes be transported over some sections. The first part of the Card Sound Road was pleasant with minimal traffic. However, after we crossed the Sound, traffic picked up all the way to Florida City were our 65 mile day ended. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjnE9aTKi3QcfyADb2JvDawuw6oxNC8zcXW9QntywBovmD3w3o_BuwvGXLsbeaUXjtMBrlvC5WzwMcdGUeybISZOBGhGDNNfTyInsL72jn3Yf5PtMeVwamQ3ZReYGnGqrVCQ87zps6hSs/s1600-h/IMG_0443_1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166478756098436914" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjnE9aTKi3QcfyADb2JvDawuw6oxNC8zcXW9QntywBovmD3w3o_BuwvGXLsbeaUXjtMBrlvC5WzwMcdGUeybISZOBGhGDNNfTyInsL72jn3Yf5PtMeVwamQ3ZReYGnGqrVCQ87zps6hSs/s320/IMG_0443_1.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We camped in a less than adequate campground but were so tired that we did not much care about its condition. The next morning we headed to Miami, the end of our cycling trip. Adventure Cycling offered us an indirect route that required lots of map reading. However, we found a great alternative. A just completed “bus way” connected Florida City to Miami and provided us with 20 miles of traffic free cycling. The bus way was built on an abandoned railroad right-a-way that parallels Route 1. Only busses and bicycles were allowed and there were few busses. In Miami we separated, 2 of us headed for the Amtrak Train Station and the third rider headed for Miami Beach for a few more days in the sun.<br /><br />For those of you who think it unfair that I had a sunny vacation while you were freezing, I want you to know that paybacks can be hell. When I got off the train in Alexandria it was snowing and when I got home I had to shovel the very wet and heavy snow off my walks and driveway. If you are wondering if you saw me shoveling snow I was the guy in bike shorts with tan legs and big smile on my face.</div></div>yellowbiketaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03930267735169346620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8612292389702167581.post-22468649549864112082008-02-13T08:10:00.000-05:002008-02-25T07:49:24.215-05:00Washington & Old Dominion Trail in Virginia<div id="ms__id3062"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS3F_uanVSNzWmpCjq49SLZeWmTRzeoz6rwWeLKQDQ7JD3M7D-KHDagNDvsQ4G52YDAuVqno8N63CN1w8WWixUUmp3dLQCZmAFGh2sqpBFg6UDdhOo44NAm_US-8mvFANnwuuSy_3wgE0/s1600-h/100_0028.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166453690669297314" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS3F_uanVSNzWmpCjq49SLZeWmTRzeoz6rwWeLKQDQ7JD3M7D-KHDagNDvsQ4G52YDAuVqno8N63CN1w8WWixUUmp3dLQCZmAFGh2sqpBFg6UDdhOo44NAm_US-8mvFANnwuuSy_3wgE0/s320/100_0028.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div id="ms__id2261">A trail made just for me (and you)<br />The Washington & Old Dominion Trail </div><br /><div id="ms__id3042"></div><br /><div id="ms__id3060">(Published in Spokes, September, 2006)</div><br /><div id="ms__id3061">(Photos courtesy of the Northern Virginia Regional Park Authority)<br /><br />Some folks just complain about the traffic in Northern Virginia because the roads are crowded and the highways are gridlocked. However, I seem to fly as I head west towards Loudoun County. Whether heading to work in Ashburn or to lunch in Purcellville, my trip from Falls Church is relatively stress free as I cycle on the Washington & Old Dominion Rail Trail.<br /><br />The Washington & Old Dominion trail is many different things to its diverse users. For some it is a social multi-use trail where dogs are walked, baby carriages are pushed, and friends are met. To others it is place to walk, run, inline skate, or bike. While some just like to stroll along and bird watch or observe the wildflowers grow, others use it as a car free commuter route.<br /><br />When I moved to Falls Church in 1970, the W&OD right-of-way was just a former railroad bed with high voltage lines. Little did I realize that this old railroad right-of-way would eventually become a place for my recreation and exercise. Over the years I have spent lots of time walking, running, and cycling on the W&OD. Last year about one half of my 3000 cycling miles were on this trail.<br /><br />The Trail <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPbmNBGuO431L3MXL2tAtED2CMZoEHLkUpi_Y9rMxJfdpJMPrzY12EEHXZd4yhhQY84iNhRm9KXgz1qKx9zoiF9_ul4dWgOYctdJZiDdCQcxkIzhbbq0dY7mRkeOGcTF1fSm1UC7InXSY/s1600-h/map_overview.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166453694964264642" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPbmNBGuO431L3MXL2tAtED2CMZoEHLkUpi_Y9rMxJfdpJMPrzY12EEHXZd4yhhQY84iNhRm9KXgz1qKx9zoiF9_ul4dWgOYctdJZiDdCQcxkIzhbbq0dY7mRkeOGcTF1fSm1UC7InXSY/s320/map_overview.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The W&OD trail is noted for being a rails-to-trails success story and is used by more than 2 million people annually. The trail runs through a 100 foot-wide and 45-mile long park that is owned and operated by the Northern Virginia Regional Park Authority. The paved trial stretches the entire length of the park from Shirlington to Purcellville as it passes through the communities of Arlington, Falls Church, Dun Loring, Vienna, Reston, Herndon, Sterling, Ashburn, Leesburg, and Hamilton. The park also offers a 32-mile gravel trail that serves horseback riders, mountain bikers, and walkers.<br /><br />The W&OD trail was built on the rail bed of the Washington and Old Dominion Railroad, which operated from 1859 to 1968. After the railroad terminated operations in 1968 the right-of-way was bought by Virginia Electric and Power Company for its electric power transmission lines. A cooperative agreement allowed the Regional Park Authority to open the initial Falls Church section of the trail in 1974. This section proved to be popular and in 1977 the Regional Park Authority agreed to purchase the entire property in stages. By 1982 the purchase was complete and by 1988 the entire trail was paved from Shirlington to Purcellville. Over the years the trail has been widened to 10 feet and other enhancement projects are completed annually.<br /><br />Head Down Cycling<br /><br />For those cyclists that like to put their head down and crank out the miles, the W&OD’s 45 miles of paved trail has many stretches of 1 to 2 miles without street crossings. While we would all like the 45 miles to be crossing free, the reality is that crossings do exist and many of the busy ones have over/under passes or traffic lights to aide crossing. The trail also has some longer stretches. For example the section between Columbia Pike in Arlington and Falls Church is about 4 miles of uninterrupted trail. However, Falls Church has lots of street crossings but once on the other side you will find many sections of a mile or two until you leave Vienna. West of Vienna the trail provides another long stretch of about 3 miles of continuous cycling until you reach Hunter Mill Road. Because of reduced traffic at the western end of the trail, those street crossings are quicker and make the trail sections seem longer. However before dropping down on their handle bars, cyclist need to remember:<br /><br />Ø The trail is not a bike trail but a multiple use trail and cyclist must always yield to other trail users.<br />Ø The recommended speed limit on the trail is15 mph.<br />Ø For their own safety, all trail users must stop at all street crossings.<br /><br />Trail’s Natural Setting<br /><br />Sometimes we all feel overwhelmed by our urban setting. Every where we look we see high-rise buildings, commercial development, and McMansions replacing our parents’ 50 year-old homes. The W&OD trail is an oasis of nature in the midst of all this chaos. I have many favorite sections of the trail that take me back to my “country boy” roots. Rather than do any of them injustice by trying to list them in some order of importance, I’ll describe them from east to west. Please forgive me, if I end up saying that each of them is my favorite; but they all are.<br /><br />Cycling west from Shirlington the first 1.5 miles the W&OD runs through a well-developed area with commercial and high-density housing and a few busy street crossings. However, as soon as you cross over Columbia Pike the trail becomes immersed in a larger park that provides a more country feel. Furthermore, off to the left and down by the stream is the parallel Four Mile Run Trail.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYY9meyoaWlvb5exZ1DV0DdsblduZMuxingWYu_mFF3YCYNfQhXNdva3MmTUg72W8FS0zUwdGX27hgwodzJRQwbSNBdNc3MO7ujRirbDVefyFVEPleCNFTXvtVi5pecasIbcUtSQK7_04/s1600-h/BikerGoodPic.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166453694964264626" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYY9meyoaWlvb5exZ1DV0DdsblduZMuxingWYu_mFF3YCYNfQhXNdva3MmTUg72W8FS0zUwdGX27hgwodzJRQwbSNBdNc3MO7ujRirbDVefyFVEPleCNFTXvtVi5pecasIbcUtSQK7_04/s320/BikerGoodPic.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Not to long ago, sections of the W&OD trail west of Columbia Pike used the Four Mile Run trail. It is well worth your time to cycle this trail. It offers the joys of a country road that twists and turns into short climbs and quick descents. It is a much slower ride and takes you into the woods and through some streams. By comparison the new section of the W&OD is like a major highway with its straighter lines and gradual inclines.<br /><br />If you continue west on the W&OD you will also find that nature abounds in this section. Just west of mile marker 2 is the newly built Sparrow Pond and educational display. Not too much farther (just west of Long Branch Creek) is a path off to the left that takes you to the Long Branch Nature Center. Next the W&OD will take you through Bluemont Park (which offers, railroad history, drinking water, rest rooms and for those with more energy than I, it has some great tennis courts). After going under Wilson Boulevard, you will find the Bon Air Rose Garden. Years ago I gave up growing roses so I really enjoy the beauty and fragrance of this garden. It is especially grand about the middle of June.<br /><br />The section of trail just west of Vienna is undoubtedly my favorite. Starting at mile marker 12, the trail is 3 miles of uninterrupted cycling through natural wetlands. Along this stretch I frequently see deer and a wide variety of birds. In the early mornings the deer stand along the trail and nonchalantly watch cyclist go by. Also blue birds are making a return to this area and bring out many bird watchers in the early mornings. Other interesting birds can also be seen including redwing black birds, gold finches, and buzzards. I like to think of myself as an enduring cyclist but I often wonder if those buzzards are waiting for me to make my return trip. In the springtime this section of the trail is almost deafening as the frogs sing their love songs and the birds call out to passing cyclists.<br /><br />Further west, the trail offers more rural settings with farms and wooded areas. Just west of Ashburn the trail passes over Goose Creek, Sycolin Creek, and Tuscarora Creek. Recently I saw several huge turtles sun bathing on a log just under the bridge over Goose Creek. On the western side of Leesburg and the most of the remaining 10 miles to Purcellville the trail is heavily canopied with large trees.<br /><br />While most of the W&OD trail shares the right-of-way with high voltage power lines, the section from Leesburg to Purcellville does not. However, that may change. Despite a multi-year effort to save the trees along the trail, they may have to be cut down if this right-of-way is approved for power lines. This is not the first controversy between the power company and trail users and neighbors. During 2005, the power company clear cut all the large trees from around its power lines on the rest of the trail. They wanted to prevent storm-damaged trees from disrupting service. Needless to say, this position was met with lots of opposition.<br /><br />Another interesting site in the western section is the Quarry Overlook (just east of Goose Creek). While some call this man-made cavernous hole a “rape of nature,” others are fascinated to see how the earth is put together. Whether you love or hate it, the Quarry overlook is a great rest stop.<br /><br />Historical Sites and Markers<br /><br />Despite “progress” some of the original W&OD Railroad infrastructure remains. Several stations and cabooses can be found along the trail. Some of the stations have been restored and are being used for various activities. In addition the Park has honored the trail’s railroad history by using the W&OD’s inverted triangle logo and with the placement of many trail side photo displays. Other historical (non-railroad) sites can also be found along the trail and in nearby communities. An hour-long video/DVD describing the history of the W&OD can be purchased from the trail office or from the Friends of the W&OD web page (<a href="http://www.wodfriends.org/">http://www.wodfriends.org/</a>).<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_2V2WrnuyTj1a4Z9bK8f1m-9xebfv2kuNKKsKcfrbvJ0DtkFVz1040A04OiAqzSKWJkYZuO6BNklgNottpQm-zj2UAbPYFyqylHrR_tByv1He1F6YBLWLN0l47nItZ08YMMAtHWsEeWs/s1600-h/wodph+027+Vienna+Station+layer.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166453707849166562" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_2V2WrnuyTj1a4Z9bK8f1m-9xebfv2kuNKKsKcfrbvJ0DtkFVz1040A04OiAqzSKWJkYZuO6BNklgNottpQm-zj2UAbPYFyqylHrR_tByv1He1F6YBLWLN0l47nItZ08YMMAtHWsEeWs/s320/wodph+027+Vienna+Station+layer.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Train stations can be found along the trail in Vienna, Reston, Herndon, and Purcellville. Cabooses are located at Bluemont, Vienna, and Herndon. A freight depot that used to be part of the railroad in Leesburg has been moved several blocks away to a commercial area called Market Station. (This station’s former location is marked with an interpretive panel with a photo.) The Purcellville station has been restored and is owned and managed by the Town of Purcellville.<br /><br />The station in Vienna is just west of Maple Avenue (Route 123) and is being used by a local model railroad club. The club offers several open house activities that allow the public to view their real life miniature world. Just opposite of this station, there is a large mural painted on an adjacent building depicting Vienna’s railroad history. Vienna’s caboose is located just east of the station.<br /><br />The small Reston station is located on the western side of Old Reston Avenue. This building is one of several railroad buildings that made up this railroad stop. To learn more about this location just stop at the sheltered rest stop and view the photo display and narrative. If you are lucky you may meet up with Quentin, a semi-retired gentleman who picks up litter at this popular spot. Because Quentin lived in this area when the trail was a railroad, his narrative can transform the old photos into current times. He likes to point out where the tracks once ran and where the freight station stood. He will tell you that the remaining station building once housed the stationmaster and the gazebo in the photo is the same one still standing behind the station. According to Quentin, this location was called Sunset Hills and its primary purpose was to serve the Virginia Gentleman Distillery (their brick warehouse still stands one short block up Old Reston Avenue). Quentin is also eager to tell stories about the “old days” and the times he and his friends hopped slow moving freight trains in the morning and rode “all the way into Falls Church for a day out.” <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg7_LdYL3GENDHE_UO-vV9y6pY3v7DO-8yU-7mwmzNspF8CrGqBf6dXHhcEgw-0i9qlbzzvw-TwABLL8u6nOoFJ2l31y7o7cSgj3sG5stnbOgyelPkyvxcUEimhO-l6zVVIIoKsbl4SOw/s1600-h/Sit+and+Bike.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166453699259231954" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg7_LdYL3GENDHE_UO-vV9y6pY3v7DO-8yU-7mwmzNspF8CrGqBf6dXHhcEgw-0i9qlbzzvw-TwABLL8u6nOoFJ2l31y7o7cSgj3sG5stnbOgyelPkyvxcUEimhO-l6zVVIIoKsbl4SOw/s320/Sit+and+Bike.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The Herndon railroad station has been restored and serves as a visitor’s center and museum. This museum has displays of the town’s history with the railroad and the civil war. A caboose is also located near here. (For those who quickly tire of history, there is a Dairy Queen across the street from the caboose. While I don’t tire of the history I also don’t need an excuse to get ice cream.)<br /><br />Another interesting, but easily missed railroad artifact is the “Station One Mile” sign in Falls Church. This sign is one of a few original makers remaining and is located just west of Little Falls Street.<br /><br />Besides the railroad, the trail offers many other historical sites worth exploring. For example, one of the original Washington, DC boundary stones lies at the border of Falls Church. After you go under Roosevelt Blvd on your westward journey the W&OD makes a sharp right turn over Four Mile Creek. Instead of making this sharp right, go straight on a short section of trail to Van Buren Street; take a right turn on the street and cycle just past the creek. There you will find the boundary stone on your right (inside a rod iron fence). This stone dates to 1791 when the District was laid out as a square in Maryland and Virginia.<br /><br />The Freeman House in Vienna (at the intersection of the trail and Church Street) provides another interesting history stop. During the Civil War the house served as a hospital and now is open as a museum and general store. In 1859-60 President James Buchanan used a Sterling residence as his “summer White House and got there on the train. (According to the Trail office three other Presidents also rode on the W&OD.) Donona Manor, the home of George Marshall is in Leesburg and is being restored. West of Leesburg is a stone structure at Clarks Gap. This pre-Civil War arch supported the original Leesburg Turnpike. While many other historical sites are found along the trail, I leave them up to you to discover.<br /><br />Refueling and Rest Stops<br /><br />No matter where you start or want to stop, it is easy to find great refueling and rest stops near the trail. The communities along the trail all offer a variety of refueling stops that range from coffee to fancy meals. Other than at the fancy restaurants your spandex outfit will not cause a stir. Since I start my ride on the eastern side of the trail and usually head west I start out with coffee in one the many places at the Reston Town Center. However, I can assure you that great coffee is also available in Shirlington, Arlington, Falls Church, Vienna, Herndon, Ashburn, Leesburg, and Purcellville.<br /><br />While great lunch stops are at these same locations, I generally like to have lunch at my turn around points in Leesburg or Purcellville. However, if you are looking for something a little different I suggest checking out the Old Dominion Brewery…for the lunch…and well, maybe just one beer. The Brewery is located about 2 miles west of Sully Road (Route 28). A trail sign directs you through an industrial park to the Brewery. In addition to their beers, Old Dominion serves lunch and provides an excellent tour (reservations required). During the tour you will have the opportunity to sample beer at its different production stages. By the way, if you eat on the patio keep your eyes open because you will likely see low flying airplanes as the land or take off from the near by Dulles Airport and you may see some very large guys from the nearby Redskins Park.<br /><br /><br />Getting Here From There<br /><br />So now that you know lots about the W&OD Trail I bet you are wondering how to get to it. For those that live along the trail, I bet you are wondering where the W&OD Trail will take you. While I will address how to get to the W&OD, it only takes a little imagination to reverse these directions.<br /><br />Because of the great system of interconnecting trails in the Washington, DC area there are many ways to cycle to the W&OD Tail.<br /><br />Ø Nellie Custis Trail that follows Route 66 from the Potomac River connects with the W&OD just east of Falls Church.<br />Ø Mount Vernon trail connects with Anderson Bikeway at National Airport. This bikeway follows Four Mile Run Creek to the W&OD trail head at Shirlington. (At West Glebe Rd the trail utilizes the streets as it takes you to the overpass at I 395.)<br />Ø Four Mile Run Trail meanders next to the W&OD trail providing multiple connections in Arlington.<br />Ø C&O Canal Trail from Cumberland, MD takes you to Washington, DC. From the Potomac River it is just a short trip over the Key Bridge and onto the Nellie Custis Trail.<br />Ø Capital Crescent Trail from Bethesda will take you to Georgetown and the Key Bridge.<br />Ø Rock Creek Trail will take you to Georgetown.<br />Ø Allegheny River Trail from Pittsburgh, PA connects with the C&O Canal Trail in Cumberland, MD and then it is only 185 miles to Georgetown.<br />Ø Alternatively, you can leave the C&O Canal at Whites Ferry and take the ferry across the Potomac where it is just a short trip on Ferry Road to Route 15. Route 15 (business) becomes King Street in Leesburg and the W&OD is just south of center city. The ferry ride cost is nominal for cyclists and a pleasant experience.<br />Ø Fairfax County Parkway Trail connects with the W&OD in Reston at the trail’s overpass.<br />Ø The Fairfax Cross County Trail (not to be confused with the Parkway Trail) which opened in 2006 connects with the W&OD near Hunter Mill Road. This trail runs 40 miles from Great Falls, VA to Occoquan, VA. While some sections are paved, those closest to the W&OD are more suited for mountain bikes.<br /><br />For those not fortunate enough to be able to cycle to this trail, the W&OD Trail web site shows the following parking locations.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.blogger.com/Local%20Settings/Temporary%20Internet%20Files/Content.IE5/M6KDLQ2F/map17.html">SHIRLINGTON</a>Take I-395 to the Shirlington exit, bear to right heading north, go to second stoplight. Turn left on South Four Mile Run Drive. The W&OD Trail will be on the right paralleling the road. You can park along the side of the road. Not recommended for leaving your car overnight.<br /><a href="http://www.blogger.com/Local%20Settings/Temporary%20Internet%20Files/Content.IE5/M6KDLQ2F/map15.html">ARLINGTON</a>Bluemont Park in Arlington has 2 lots. One is at Manchester and 4th Street, north of Route 50/ Arlington Boulevard just west of Carlin Springs Road. The other is off of Wilson Boulevard, just west of the Bon Air Rose Gardens and tennis courts, on the south side of the road.<br /><a href="http://www.blogger.com/Local%20Settings/Temporary%20Internet%20Files/Content.IE5/M6KDLQ2F/map13.html">DUNN LORING</a>Take I-495 to the Gallows Road/Route 50 exit and follow the signs towards Gallows Road north (right turn on Gallows). Go past the trail, turn right on Idylwood Road, turn right on Sandburg Street. Gravel lots on both sides of road at trail.<br /><a href="http://www.blogger.com/Local%20Settings/Temporary%20Internet%20Files/Content.IE5/M6KDLQ2F/map12.html">VIENNA EAST</a>Take Route 123 into Vienna, turn on Park Street (left if coming from Tysons Corner). Turn right into the Vienna Community Center parking lot. The trail runs between the parking lot and the center.<br /><a href="http://www.blogger.com/Local%20Settings/Temporary%20Internet%20Files/Content.IE5/M6KDLQ2F/map11.html">VIENNA WEST</a>Take Route 123 into Vienna, turn on Park Street (right if coming from Tysons Corner). Turn left at four-way stop sign onto Church, turn right onto Mill Street. Turn left onto Ayr Hill Road and then left into the gravel parking lot at the train station.<br /><a href="http://www.blogger.com/Local%20Settings/Temporary%20Internet%20Files/Content.IE5/M6KDLQ2F/map10.html">RESTON</a><a name="_Hlt136318187"></a>Take Route 7 west, turn left onto Reston Parkway. Turn left onto Sunset Hills Road, then left onto Old Reston Avenue at the 7-11 store. There is a paved parking lot on the right by the trail. There is also a large commuter parking lot next to the trail further down Sunset Hills Road, although this is usually full on weekdays.<br /><a href="http://www.blogger.com/Local%20Settings/Temporary%20Internet%20Files/Content.IE5/M6KDLQ2F/map9.html">HERNDON</a>Take Elden Street to Station Street (right turn if you are coming from Route 7). At the end of station street pull down towards the large town municipal center parking lot.<br /><a href="http://www.blogger.com/Local%20Settings/Temporary%20Internet%20Files/Content.IE5/M6KDLQ2F/map8.html">STERLING/ROUTE 28</a>Take Route 28, watch for W&OD Parking signs, several miles north of Dulles Airport. This is a large lot, good for horse trailers. There are very few road crossings west of this lot.<br /><a href="http://www.blogger.com/Local%20Settings/Temporary%20Internet%20Files/Content.IE5/M6KDLQ2F/map7.html">ASHBURN</a><br />The Northern Virginia Regional Park Authority has a 40 car parking lot for W&OD Trail users at the trail intersection at Ashburn Road in Loudoun County. This lot is just on the opposite side of the trail from the famous Partlows Brothers Store, near Mile Marker 27.5.<br /><a href="http://www.blogger.com/Local%20Settings/Temporary%20Internet%20Files/Content.IE5/M6KDLQ2F/map5.html">LEESBURG</a>Take Route 7 west into Leesburg, turn left onto Sycolin Road. Turn immediately right into the parking lot for the Douglass Community Center and park in the rear of the building. The trail is directly behind the building through the picnic area.<br /><a href="http://www.blogger.com/Local%20Settings/Temporary%20Internet%20Files/Content.IE5/M6KDLQ2F/map4.html">LEESBURG WEST</a><a name="_Hlt136318250"></a>Take Route 7 west into Leesburg past the Douglass Community Center and turn left on Catoctin Circle. Follow that road until you turn left on Dry Mill Road. Turn immediately right into the parking lot of Loudoun County High School. The trail is several hundred yards further down Catoctin Circle. This is the only for parking available on weekends during the school year.<br /><a href="http://www.blogger.com/Local%20Settings/Temporary%20Internet%20Files/Content.IE5/M6KDLQ2F/map1.html">PURCELLVILLE</a>Take Route 7 West. Exit the Bypass at Route 287; turn left. Turn right onto Hirst Road, then left on Maple Street. Turn left into the parking lot of Loudoun Valley High School. This is the only for parking on weekends during the school year.<br /><a href="http://www.blogger.com/Local%20Settings/Temporary%20Internet%20Files/Content.IE5/M6KDLQ2F/map1.html">PURCELLVILLE WEST</a>Route 7 to exit for Route 287. Go south to Purcellville. Turn right onto business Route 7 ("the Pike"). Turn right onto Hatcher Street, right into gravel parking lot at trail.<br /><br />Just Do It<br /><br />I have provided you with my view of the trail. You may share some of my impressions but I hope that you will discover your own wonderful places on and near the W&OD. Yes, I spend a lot of time on the W&OD trail! Perhaps we will meet some day. I am the slow cyclist that often stops to “smell the roses” or chat with other trail users. Some days I have on my Trail Patrol shirt but on other days I look like any other cyclist. If you see me, or think you see me, say hello. </div></div>yellowbiketaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03930267735169346620noreply@blogger.com0