Day 44 Confluence, PA to Bedford , PA

Day 44 Confluence, PA to Bedford, PA

Essence: It feels good to feel good again.

Today is a day to ride. While many people say tomorrow is the "Final Exam" with a hilly century, I consider today to be the Senior Project, with multiple climbs and the alternate route up 3213' Mt. Davis, Pennsylania's highest point.

Today will be the 1st of the final 2 back to back days of hard riding. I am ready, I am prepped. Let's see what I've got left.

The air is thick and the light from the sodium vapor lights still casts cones of solidness through the air. Other than these glowing solids, it is still pitch dark... and time ot get up. It only finally got cold enough for the sleeping bag about 90 minutes ago and my body surely begs to be able to sleep in a little longer.

Breakig cap down is slow. I am still tryingot manage my wet clothes. It's all wet.

Finally I am packed and ready for breakfast. Not much breakfast choice though. Low on milk. No Juice. :(

I get the road route directions for up and over Mt. Davis. I am going to do it. Stephen and Lambert take off alone and tell me I will catch up. SO I am left to start last and alone.

I am pushing and it finally feels good to ride hard. I have chosen to wear teh McGowan jersey today in honor of Dr. Brack and Jeananne, as I a strong climber and going for the tough climbs today. I remind myself to pace for all day and tomorrow's century as well. I here my traing partner Grant's voice telling to pace.

The valley has a chill and the trees are just starting to change colors.


I can imagine how pretty this will be in the full fall colors.
Ah autumn... Football... back to school... fall leaves... those things aren't far off for these people.

At the bottom of the Mt. climb I catch Sean, Liz and Kari. With Stephen, Lambert and I we are the only 6 to be taking the alternate mountain route. It shaves 10 miles, but adds several thousand feet of elevation gain so it should end up about the the same. I am glad to have caught the other three and no longer be bringing up the rear. I pass them and climb up on e of the steepest grades we ever encounter. Lowest gear, standing in the pedals I wear out and go back to my old reliable sit in the saddle and spin it out. Spinning it out I finally break 8 mph, then 9 then 10 and I am up over the first hump.

The climbs are tough! Steep, shorts bursts where you can't develop a rhythm. Just all out exertion. I hear the words from one of my letter in my last mail stop, "Use your granny gear. That's why itis there." I shift into granny gear and smile at the wisdom. I also work on my hill sprints for Grant and push hard up and over every hill.

Near the top of one fo the hills I chat with a guy about an old rock quarry, mine.

The air is stale coming out of the shaft and I think back tot he West Virginia mine disaster last year. He tells me about taking his kids in the mine to collect fossils when they were small, some 40 years ago. He has a ventriloquist dummy's laugh.

The air around us is thick with fog and he tells me this isn't normal weather.

I ride off into the foggy clearings. I know there is a top, but I surely can't make it our or even guess at my progress. More Climbs and even a few descents =, that just have to be reclimbed.

Final Climb and I catch Lambert as the turn off to the actual Mt. Davis Peak. We head up the peak road for the 1 mile to the actual peak.

We are alone when we get there. We see the path to the peak and folow it around but don't see a peak. Finally we see a boulder and some signs.



Not in good rock climbing shoes I shimmy up to get a good picture of the benchmark plaque.

Dave climbs the lookout tower and I get a shot of him.



Summoning all my courage, I overcome my primal fear of manmande heights and climb the 4 stories of the lookout tower to join Dave take in the great view.

Our visibility is about 1/2 a mile into the fog.



Yes I am holding on for dear life...

because it makes me feel better.

Having climbed, and seen we head down and are back on the bikes. Back on the main road we turn right and 200 yards up the hill we find Pollie and Mark huddle in their car waiting for us but avoiding the biting flies in the meantime.



A quick picture, a water fill up and Dave Lambert and I are shooting off down the hill. Mark advised us to try to keep it under 40!

Once again we are pushing the limits of speed and our tires and we crash through the 40mph advice easily. I top out at 46.6mph. We pass a dumptruck on a screaming downhill only for him to catch us back on the uphill. We shoot down another hill 40mph and bend around a corn field to a BLIND CORNER STOP SIGN. Panic is all I can do. There is now stopping for this. All I can manage to shout at Dave behind me is, "WHOA, WHOA, WHOA, WHOA, WHOA!" We come to a stop 30' the other side of the stop sign and breathe a collective sigh of relief that is was acountry road with no traffic.

We carry on down the mountain, and looking back can't see the top, where we have just been.

At the bottom we rejoin the route. What with the detours and the extra miles up to the boulder, this route has only saved us 2 miles but it was totally worth it. We see the water stop for the riders who took the trail, however since we are refilled from the mountain, we head on.

All across the country we have been seeing the silhouette of a cowboy leaning up against a post. Since as early as Washington we have seen this image. Occasionally we have see teh cowgirl version. This OLD MAN version makes me turn around and come back for a picture.


From here it is hard climbing and riding for everyone else, but those of us that have conquered Mt. Davis, have alreday done the toughest part of our day.

I start riding hard and really pushing hte pace and pull away from Lambert. I don't see another rider for miles. Eventually I see David Latner climbing rollers into another cute little town. As I cath him and ride along with him, he says that according to Kathy, only Stephen is ahead of us. Holy cow from starting out near dead last, I have moved to 2nd rider. I guess I am riding fast today. I stop at the turn in town for an impromptu lunch and seemingly create the spot. It is an auto repair that is closed, but has a big parking lot and shares with an.. what else... but and Ice Cream trailer. Ice cream isn't open yet, but during hte 30 minutes we sit there and eat lunch, the ice cream trailer opens up a tad early (mostly due to our begging) and milkshakes are the order of the day.

During our stop, Kari and Dimmitts have also rolled up and passed us. Latner has already left and is rolling. I change out my rose lenses for my Dark gray sun lenses and return to my hunt. Inow have "rabbits" out in front of me to catch and I can really push the pace, by focussing on catching them and not on how my body feels.

Latner, the Dimmits and eventually Kari, are all riders that I pass. Stephen is like an apparition out ther ahead of me.

AT a sharp turn we hang a right and start attacking some low hills straight on ans we haed to the United flight 93 memorial site. Coming over the last hill the top 20 feet are a sheer wall that seems virtually straight up. Lowest gear, standing it takes every muscle fiber to keep the bike upright and climb these 20'.

Over the crest we coast downhill a few hundred yards and are at the site of the 9/11 Flight 93 crash site and impromptu memorial. Kathy is there waiting for us with a water break and we take the time to go throughthe memorial.

As we all do, I remember the day of 9/11/2001 and of the events that took place. I remember at the time that flight 93 seemed so forgotten and secondary to the twin towers collapse and even the Pentagon crash. Out here in a corn field, what had they done. Therefore the chainlink fence section that had been erected as impromptu memorial, that is covered in flags, and fireman jackets and buttons and the like. In that impromptu style that has become so popular since the death of Lady Diana, this memorial onthe spot seemd so perfect. The only official monument were a set of benches each with 2 names ofthe passengers and crew who perished on the flight. In all there are about 35 or 40 benches arranged to look att he crash site and it is very solemn and truly peaceful. Everyman heroes that gave up everything for an untold rest of us to be protected.









I don't know how long I stopped at the memorial. For the first time all day, I wasn't in a rush and time passing had no significance at the memorial.

Finally it felt time to roll on.

To be continued.

Day 43 Washington to Confluence

Day 43 Washington, PA to Confluence, PA

Heavy rain soaked us last night. The humidity keeps stuff from drying. Hanging it up, just makes it more damp as it collects moisture form the air.

As a result tonight we are all trying to balance clothing needs for the next few days. By now I have my outifts prioritized for the distance, the terrain, the weather etc. I know which shorts and which jersey I like for the centuries and then which for the hills. Looking ahead at our upcoming days I am doing hte calculus of drying time and when I need clothes for what days.

Not only are our wet clothes a concern. The rest of our wet gear is a problem. My stuff got absolutely soaked and got packed soaked so it sat wet in my luggage and made sure to get everything else damp. My pillow is sour. My duffel bags actually have a sour odor. My tools are rusty and even the brand new spare chain is showing some exposure.

In addition, my cell phone seems to have given up as well. Won't hold a charge. Won't stay on even when iti s plugged in. I can't even get the numbers out of my phone book and I only have Mom and Dad's home memorized. What to do? what to do?



Today was okay. Lots of roller hills. It looked like it might rain so I dressed in arm warmers and tights to be at least warm if not dry while riding. I also swapped out my sunglass lenses for pink/rose lenses for better vision.

Mist and hanging moisture are backdrops in all my pictures.


As I get roling with Steve and the Kids, the weather felt like Seattle. As we climbed the hills in town it felt like the Downtown Seattle Hills and as we passed near an old college it definitely reminded us Pill Hill in Seattle. The old architecture is really fun to pay attention and one of the joys for me as we work our way east and into colonial areas.


Here I am in my leggings and wamr clothing just to give a sense of the day.


Leaving the college we cruise through this great old neighborhood where the houses are just so scenic.


Leaving these periphiral edges of Pittsburgh we get into a valleys and a state park where the fog is beautiful. Here is what it looked like to the normal eye.



Here is how it looks to me through my rose sunglasses.


The rosey colors gives the fog a very surreal and fairy tale feeling. It makes everything so much more beautiful which lifts my mood and sweeps away my worries of being wet.


This little covered bridge looks like it belongs in in a jigsaw puzzle.


I love it as one of the atractions during our serenely non-traffic ride through the state park.

Coming out of the state park we are into another large industiral town. One thing that strikes me about all these larger towns is how all the churches are lined up along a a given road. With each denomination showing off and trying ot out build the one next to it. This develops into one of my favorite mental games from the ride which I think of as a "Church find" sort of liek a word find. How it works is as you ride down the street you see a church and check it off on the mental checklist and then see how many churches you get.

sort of like this... Oh there are the Methodist on the Left, oh 2nd on the right are the presbysterians, oh and 3rd are the Baptists. A.M.E. is 4th. Catholics on the Left. Calvary chapel and even a Mormon church. Hey a sinagogue. Have we seen the Lutherans? Where are the Lutherans. By now we are getting tot he end of hte road and need to turn. I am starting to worry about the Lutherans when just as we make the turn left onto a bridge I see see the Lutherans have the corner lot. Okay, we seem to have everyone here.

As we cross the bridge over the Ohio river we stop to watch the barge traffic and catch some water.


Major barge/river shipping traffic remains a novelty to me. SInce we are excited about just having a stream in our river beds, having enough water to reliably float a barge is unbelievable.

We climb out of the river valley and for the downhills we relish, we grind out the uphill climbs like this.



A bit down the road, I don't get a picture of it but in this little valley there is a wrecking yard and graveyard for dead cars. Piled 4 and 5 high there are thousands of dead cars in this salvage valley and it really is both remarkable and distrubing how many there are. The environmental impact of al those cars rusting and leaking is all I can think of as we ride past. Somewhere in all the wreckages I ride through some glass and get a flat.

Steve pulls over with me and we fix the flat. I reallize I am out of tubes and borrow one from Steve. Fortunately he has a tube. I get it changed, put the wheel in the bike, spint he wheel and BANG. The tube blows. I had pinched teh tube and not seated the tire properly. Fortunately, God told Steve to bring 2 tubes today and so I take the other tube and with more care we change the tire again and are rolling eventually.

So far the first 25 miles of hte day have gone quickly. The subsequent miles draw on. We get to a bike trail that we will follow for 15 miles. Fortunately there is a bike shop there and I can buy tubes to replace Steve's and get a spare for myself.

15 miles down the bike trail and we expect lunch to be provided by a past rider. Marty goes and gets a humongous sandwich and offers to share it. I comtemlate this as we only have 15 miles but I am hungry now. Indeed I indulge and share half of Marty's hero sandwich and it is SOOO good.

Heading down the trail it is an old rail line,


recovered into a bike trail so the grad is VERY flat. The surface is packed gravel, much like kitty litter. Not great for ourtires, but we actually do better than I expect. I pull ahead and ride solo and just fall into the lull of the trail and following hte tire tracks ahead of me. A few miles into the the trail, there is a fallen tree all the way across the trail. A path has been worn to climb over it. I stop and wait for Steve. Steve comes quickly with his head down. He doesn't see the tree. I yell at him to stop and he pulls to a skid at the last moment. Another 2 feet and he would have been launched headfirst over the bike and neither one of us want to thinkn about the outcome.

We climb over and had the bikes over and now use this as a warning to not let the trail lull us out to much.

Riding along we are seeing animals again. A yearling doe. It had to be a doe. It just moved in that graceful feminine way. Then her mother and another yearling dart across the trail. An unidentifiable creature runs across the trail. Smaller than a marmot, but much larger than squirrel or possum. We don't know what it could be. Finally at a picnic clearing I see another.

Our mystery creature turns out to be one of these...



A GROUNDHOG

Riding along, Steve and I separate into solo riding and our own little worlds. The trail goes on...




and on...


and on.


This riding wears me down and I hate it. There is a river to our left, that we can only hear. There are also train tracks because again we can hear the trains but not see them. All we can se is the natural tunnel of plants and gravel trail.
It is straight.
It is flat.
It is a constant width.
It is uniformly lit.
It is uninterupted.
And you have now concept that youa re getting anywhere near your destination. As the 15 mile marked comes and goes, there is not lunch or even a lunch stopping place. Just more trail. This becomes so defeating as I have mentally prepared and paced myself for this stip. I give it the benefit of the doubt. 17 miles no lunch. 20 miles no lunch. 22 miles no lunch. Now I am getting hungry and fuel is becoming and issue and there is no sense of lunch anywhere around.

And being stiuck in this trail it seems pseudo clostophobic. It isn't so close that I feel like it is closing is on me, but I get the sense that I am trapped in a forever maze and will never exit it. Of course that is not rational, but primal fears are innately irrational and it is all I do to not have a panic attack in the saddle.

AT 25 miles, finally there is lunch and an outlet and other riders and such a sense of relief. Fred and Marilyn provide a wonderful lunch and their welcome is so appreciated. I have survived the trap!

Good old Lambert is at the lunch stop and it is soothing to have lunch with him and let the negative feelings of the trail fall away.


Dave and I finally get a look at the river that has been flowing next to us. WE lay down on benches and actually get about a 60 minute nap.

Leaving I stop to ponder this sign to Washington, D.C.


My brain can't quite comprehend the reality. This sign is on a bike trail. Obviously other people have biked from this spot to D.C. This is the first sign we have seen for Washington and the task now seems to be in our hand. Only 280 miles over the next 4 days. How very doable is that. Can I really be this close?

We ride off and continue on the trail.

We are riding the trail fast now, mostly at my urging just to get off of it,

but the scenery is now changing.



Side streams cut across the trail and the bridges over them provide great photo locations.


Old train tressles give us a birds eye view of valleys beneath and also a scenic element to focus on.


We meet "the kids", where Ben is changing a flat at a beautiful overlook.


Tired of riding fast, Lambert hangs with the kids which suits us fine as I really just want to hammer these reaming miles out.
At another train tressel I stop and watch white water rafters and kayaks navigate a tricky section of the river.



Finally another 7 or 8 miles and I into camp. Camp is in a commercial campground at the bass of an earthen dam. We are leary of the dam, but if it goes, we decide there really isn't much we can do and try to put it out of our minds. Dinner is excellent and we hear resloution on the drama from several days ago. Fortunately the compromise solution that had been suggested and that we all hoped for was indeed agreed upon.

Kathy tries to take me for an emergency laundry run to wash and dry my now 2 day damp and soggy clothes. No luck. The laundromat has closed and the next closest laundromat is 3 towns away and still closed at now 8pm. Kathy buys me ice cream instead and uses me as an excuse to get herself some as well... just like when my dad would offer to get me a cookie as kid and would always manage to get himself one as well. I smill at the gesture and we return to camp with still wet luandry.

The day has been exhausting. The air has been heavy and thick and all day and now at the bass of a dam in camp, the air actually takes the oppressive presense of a solid mass. The parking lights beam through the trees and you can see the air as if it were an object. As you walk along you instinctively duck your head so as not to hit it on the object that you see out of the corner of your eye. It is hot heavy air and sleeping is not even an option. How I will get to sleep have no idea. but I must for tomorrow is Mt. Davis, The highest point in Pennsylvania.

Day 42 New Waterford, OH to Washington, PA

Day 42 New Waterford, OH to Washington, PA

It is hard to remember the beginning of today. It was dark in Ohio. We started at 5:40 a.m. It was still in the dark of night when we got up. Wakeup needs to be later, as we can't see what is going on, what we are doing and can't find anything or see in the truck to load it, etc.

As I write this I am sitting in my tent and the rain is coming down.



It is the end the end of our day in Washington, PA. The rain is coming down hard. The tapping on rain fly has a soothing quality however the interanl humidity in quite high and very uncomfortable. The downside of the rain fly is the amount of moisture it traps underneath and thus around me. Ickkkk.


I have drips from my rain fly coming through the mesh of the tent and I get a bit damp now and then. I have tried many creative measure to stop the drips. A plastic bag over the mesh as middle waterproof layer, hanging a stuff sack in the door way zipper as a pseudo gutter. By and large I am good and dry. This 4' x7' space is certainly not palatial but I am dry enough and comfortable enough in my tent. I am glad the wind is not blowing the tent around.

These are natural light viewsin the tent.

All of my clothes and cotton gear are wet. My pillow is soaked. I have my sleeping bag out, however it is so hot, that I may try to use my rain coat as my dry blanket instead. Right now I am super thankful for my thermarest chair. I am sitting it in right now and with my head lamp this is reasonably comfortable.


Working backwards through my day-

I played Euchre under the canopy with Mechanic Dave, Mary and Sean. We also dicsussed books along with ane and Liz. Dinner was catered with chicken and scalloped potatoes and pie. Yumm!!! The call for dinner is what got me out of thetap after a nap. I noticed Jodi had made camp under the box of the truck. Hope she doesn't sit her up quickly and smash her head on the chassis. AFter last night's limited dinner, I got in line much earlier and made a point to eat more.

This afternoon during the end of the ride I just looked forward to getting into camp setting up my tent, some dry clothes and taking a nap to the sounds of hte rain. The nap was good and by and large I stayed dry despite my wet clothes and gear.

Setting up my tent I found several stow aways from last night. 3 Super daddy longggggggg legs spiders., I don't love spiders but I don't mind these so I grab them by a leg one by one and remove them from inside my tent to outside of my tent. The spiders that are creeping me out are the tiny little albino-ey fluoroescent ones that look like tailless scorpions. These totally creep me out and I kill each one I see in the tent.

Suddenly the rain in harder and I have a drip right above the flashlight that will drive me crazy all night. Like some sort of natural chinese water torture.

Anyway today's ride-
AFter getting up late and in the dark, I was excited to have church da. We set off, Stephen, Bob, Lambert and I withthe intent of finding a church alonthe way and joining in the worship. Well first the cue sheets were wrong. When we go tthat figured out our 75 mile day became a 55 mile day. WHOOPPEEEEEE!!!! Like early dismissal in school.

We rode along through the country. It is rolling hills which are hard for me to get a rhythm on. For that fact, I don't care for the big rollers. But we rode. And soone we were in Pennsylvania. We heard of several riders taking another route which actually was more direct route and also took them through a bonus state of WEst Virginia. Back on our normal route we saw this sign.


It took me a few moments to see the word J O Y in it. but I loved it as this so simply stated my boiled down faith.


With a downhill following this sign and view I rode with my legs spread out as Stephen took a picture of me enjoying and relishing in the feelings of being a kid again and having fun again on the big ride.



Then suddenly hard rain and thunder, lightning! Flash............. Rumble. The ride returned to serious business. After a crazy wet downhill where I hit 42.4 mph without pedalling we followed the Dan Henry's .

Oops I have a leak in the tent. An already wet sock will be used as a make shift sponge. It can't get any wetter!

So riding through town, Kathy was marking Dan Henry's and I noticed her car was backing up ... in traffic... without a driver!

She had parked to mark the Dan Henry's but the car had gotten in to neutral and began to roll.

WE raced over to stop it. I tried to park my bike at the side of the road and race over to it. Lambert just shot right through traffic and dumped his bike at the car. I got there just after him. He was already getting in and I yelled I had his bike and pulled it out of the way. Lambert stopped the car and then drove it over to safety. The lady in traffic behind Kathy was all paniched and had eyes the size of saucers. When she saw us heard of cyclists ride up and abandon our bikes she got it and was cool and didn't hit anyone thankfully.


David Lambert was our Hero.

After that frazzling moment we all had to take a moment. What with the drams from last night, the rain for this morning and then the runaway car, we were all right on edge and needed a moment to just laugh at it all and let some tension go. As a joke that really did relieve the stress, the 7 or so of us actually held hands while standing in a circle and sang "Kum Baya". We all had a big laugh and the tension evaporated. The Big Ride was fun again.

From there we did not find a church but the gray morning had us ready for a break. On through town we shot pics of town with the nuclear cooling towers in the background.




Then we saw a cop who told us not to stop on the upcoming bridge and certainly not to take any pics of the nuclear plant. New homeland security laws had been put in place that made such activity illegal and would resultin the confiscation of our cameras and film. He didn't want to see us lose a summer's worth of picutres so he gave us the heads up.

Oh another suggestion from the Officer we went to the breakfast at the Mid City Cafe.


Breakfast inside the Mid City Cafe

3 Blueberry pancakes made from scratch really weighed me down as we rode across the aforewarned bridge and passed the huge cooling towers. Climbing the rollers out of the river valley we found Mark's waterstop and I laid down on a bench for a brief rest.


With the misty morning, I felt like I was out near Snoqualmie falls just outside of Seattle and was having flashbacks.

Starting back up again, the rain was heavy and I was cold and miserable. Steve and I waited for Bob and Lambert at the Presbyterian church until I realized I had a flat and then I changed the flat while I waitied. Just as I finished, Bob and Dave rolled up and we headed down the orad a short mile when we decided to duck in to BAD DOG Cafe for lunch, warmth and mostly a respite from the rain.

10 miles of hard rain got us into camp and thus I was into my nap.


The riders are highly charged and politicized over the drama. I feel like I have lost friendships witheh Scott Train for reasons I don't know and drama makes camp seem tense and uncomfortable for me. I am saddened to see it ending this way.

For now it is time to sleep. Only a few hundred miles left in left than a week.