A Cancer Survivor's Journey to Find Peace on a Bike
You have stumbled upon the personal blog of Barry Sherry. It is my private journal but made public. After keeping a journal for years I decided to push this out to the web. Maybe someone will find some information of value.
I have included the names, and in some cases, photos of others I have met in my journey. If you are mentioned and do not want to be, kindly contact me and I can change that.
Enjoy the blog. If you would like to know more about me, click my About Me page.
*as of Jan. 2024
CLERMONT, FLORIDA
This is one of the best bike events anywhere. It is reasonably priced and always includes a two-fer. Two rides for the price of one.
Saturday features group rides offered as course familiarization rides. The first year I came, I jumped into the 50-mile fast group. I had no problems keeping up, but the group was way too large to be safe on the road, and I would go on to try out the other rides.
I have settled on the Bay Backwards ride, a 42-mile ride at 16 mph. In 2021, there were only three of us, but this year we had 20 riders show up. Our group leader was John, and he talked about riding a double pace line, maybe without knowing what one is. We didn’t ride one. (That was too harsh. He probably knew what a double pace line is, but I question why you would ride that on these roads.)
My recovery was poor, just 27%, and faced with a Century ride tomorrow, I wanted to chill. I hoped to sit in a moderately paced group. John talked about whether there were faster riders … I tuned out, and if there were two groups to include slower riders, I thought I might volunteer for the slow rolling group. I did not have it in me to roll fast.
John noticed one woman who brought at least a $12,000 (and maybe $15,000) triathlon bike and told her not to ride on aerobars. The reason is simple. Riding on your elbows is inherently more dangerous than being more upright with your hands on the handlebars. You ride in the aero position to be more aero dynamic. But you get more than that by sitting in a group. And I ended up following her wheel.
Her shifters were on her bar ends, and she had to shift her weight every time she needed to shift. She always lost speed, and when the road turned up just a little, I was able to go around her to the front three who had already caused a split, making four of us.
Our gap to the trailing 16 riders grew, and at Lake Erie Road we stopped briefly. I wanted to push on, and had two riders join me as our leader waited for the pack. Our little group of three, Juan and Anna, were with me. It was perfect.
We stopped at a county park for a quick nature break and, unfortunately, we were still there when 10 riders came in. We rolled out together in a group of 12 and I was content to sit back around 6th wheel. But again, there was a gap as some riders couldn’t hold even a moderate pace. I went to the front again, and Juan and Anna followed. For a while, I thought I was pulling 16 riders, but eventually it was just three.
Juan and I took turns at the front while Anna usually stayed at second wheel. That was okay. I didn’t see that as wheel sucking. She was smaller and was strong enough to maintain the pace. We had a fourth rider who joined us at the second stop just 12 miles from the end. He never said a word and stayed at fourth wheel.
Bad form, Dude. You don’t need an invitation to take a pull. Just get up front and do some work.
With one hill to climb, Juan and I went up at speed, with Anna and the other guy falling off the pace. I directed Juan where to turn, and I waited at the top for our other two. Once we got back together, we had just five kilometers to go.
We got back, took a photo, and were done. I never saw the rest of the group. I was shocked when I saw our average speed. More than 18 mph. I thought I would be lucky to maintain 16 mph. I don’t display speed on my bike computer so I had no clue. I felt good and hoped I hadn’t gone too deep before Sunday’s ride.
I was up this morning at 5:45 a.m. It must have been nervous energy, and I didn’t need an alarm. Breakfast at the hotel, and I arrived in Clermont at 6:50 a.m. I parked near the historic district in a public lot.
I was one mile away from the starting line, which officially started at 7:30 a.m. I wasn’t sure whether to ride to the start and then turn around and ride back, passing my car on the route. Or, as I decided to just start from the car and end at the car. It was 7:10 a.m. when I pushed off.
I wasn’t first on the course, but surely was in the first 10% of riders to leave. That meant I would likely be passed by 50% of the riders. Oh well. I’ve been to events where I was one of the last on course, and it meant passing a lot of riders without being passed. Today would be the opposite. Passing very few and caught by many.
I had hoped that I would see Juan and Anna again but we made no plans yesterday. And I didn’t see either.
It was chilly when I started, just 51 degrees (10). I wore sun sleeves which acted as arm warmers. I would remove them at the second rest stop. It would get to a nice 76 degrees (25).
It was a solo ride. I did not join a single group. I think I only talked to one rider. We were on a short but steep climb when a young woman passed me, not going much faster. She seemed to be struggling with the grade (but better than me), and I could see she was on the third sprocket on the rear. I told her she was killing me – and if she wasn’t going to use those two extra gears, she could give them to me. She laughed and said she was trying not to use them yet. And then she shifted and struggled no more.
The second rest stop provided water from a hose. I could see the hose filling the water jugs. The water was awful. On a warm day, I had a hard time drinking water because of the taste. I didn’t drink enough, hardly drinking at all the next 20 miles.
I had two days of bad recovery but surprisingly came into the day with a decent, but not good, recovery score of 64%. My goal was to ride the full 100 miles, which I hadn’t done this year. The course tempted one to bail. You are probably never more than 20 miles from the start and maybe even closer. And could head back to start at any time.
The biggest challenge came at the 70/100-mile split. When you’re not at your best physically, then a physical challenge becomes a mental challenge too. Today was a mental challenge to keep going.
I did not turn at the 70-mile split and kept going for the 100-mile split. That added a 17-mile loop and later there would be another 70/100 split that was 13 miles longer to return to Clermont for the Century group.
At Howie-in-the-Hills, Rest Stop #3, they had pure water in gallon jugs. What a welcome sight. I dumped out the bad water and refreshed my bottles. I also listened to the Pittsburgh Penguins on my Bluetooth Speaker before turning on the Steelers game. I was not only was not looking to jump in a group, I wanted to be left alone and listen to the Steelers.
The climb many riders struggled with was Sugarloaf Mountain. On Strava, this is a 0.4 mile (650 meters) climb that averages 8.4%. It’s not long nor steep compared to most of my climbs but I also was aware I wasn’t in climbing shape this year. There is a section above 12% where many riders became walkers. And to think, Mt. Washungton, N.H., averages 12% for eight miles (12.2 km). No, I didn’t walk.
At the finish, I looked at the BBQ sandwiches and chicken of the post-ride meal provided to the participants. Neither looked appealing to me. The water literally left a bad taste in my mouth and in my stomach. I skipped the lunch and just rode back to the car.
Like yesterday, I didn’t display speed and was shocked to see that I averaged 15.4 mph. That is not a great speed, at the Sea Gull Century I will come in at 17-18 mph, but it includes 5000’ of elevation gain over 100 miles. It was my first, and only, century of the year with my longest ride prior being 65 miles at Easton, Md. in August. Last year, I was in better shape, yet only averaged 14.0 mph. So I was 10% faster this year compared to last year. And didn’t feel good. I just rode.
I enjoy this two-day event. I like the contrast of an organized group ride on Saturday followed by a solo 100-mile ride on Sunday. The volunteers were great and they probably like me – I am the cheapest rider they have to provide for. Only two water stops, I carried almost my own nutrition, taking only bananas at the stops. And I skipped the lunch. I did get a t-shirt though.
NOTES: Lodging all week was at the Hampton Inn & Suites, Orlando-Ocoee (pronounced O-Koi – like the fish)
JERSEY SHORE, PENNSYLVANIA
I was here once before, back in 2020, and the opportunity to ride with friends presented itself. The stars sort of aligned in that it was my grandson’s only week this fall without high school football. So when the Prince William Cycling Club posted this road trip, I signed on.
When I rode five years ago, I rode the trail over two days. I parked in Jersey Shore, rode 30 miles until I found a parking area, then turned around and rode back. The next day, I went to the parking area and then rode to Wellsboro before heading back to my car, via the road on the return trip.
For this trip, we met in Jersey Shore and took a pre-arranged shuttle from Pine Creek Outfitters. Unlike my disaster shuttle experience in Jim Thorpe, Pa., in May, this one arrived on time and loaded our eight bikes on the trailer. We boarded a 15-passenger van for the hour drive to Wellsboro. And I got to ride shotgun.
I tried to remember this route since it was my return ride on Day 2 five years ago. But except for the one small town of Morris, it was as though I had never been here. But I was following my map on RideWithGPS as we drove, and it was exactly the route I took. Sometimes, when you ride in the opposite direction, it really is a brand new ride.
The driver was very nice, but I may have been the only one to notice since I was riding shotgun. When we unloaded, I think I was the only one to tip him. It was a fair tip if everyone tipped him. And if I saw that no one else tipped, I would have given him more. Sorry dude.
At the trailhead, I briefly rode off towards Wellsboro on a yet-to-be-opened section that will go into town. I was also adding an extra kilometer in case the route would be 99 km. It was chilly, 50/10 degrees, and overcast, although not as cold as the start to the New River Trail last week in Galax, Va. (Michele says it is pronounced GAY-lax).
The trail has a crushed limestone surface, which is only “gravel” in the smallest sense. It is very fine and easily rideable with 32 mm tires, which many road bikes have. The downside is that there is always dust, and there was some, but not nearly as bad as on the GAP and sections of the C&O Canal Towpath.
We had a few stops. I like to take photos and didn’t want the group to feel like they had to stop for me. They did a couple of times, but in other places I rode ahead or simply caught up.
Within the first 10 km we passed a couple of riders who were stopped admiring something. That something turned out to be a bald eagle. We would see a second one later.
The trail itself follows the Pine Creek. It is situated IN the gorge called the Grand Canyon of Pennsylvania. So, views you may normally get from heights you do not get on this trail. You are on a valley floor, which brings its own beauty.
There are just four trestles on this trail. When we came to the one at Glade Run, about halfway on the trail, it seemed unusually busy with small children. As we exited, we saw why: there is a campground here which looks very nice. The Pettecote Junction Campground offers traditional tent and RV camping as well as cabins and glamping options. It would be a perfect spot for two days on the trail – ride one direction and back to Jersey Shore or Wellsboro on one day, and ride the other on the second day.
We stopped at Wolfes General Store in Slate Run. The deli offered sandwiches that were too large for me. However, I did have a small backpack (mesh), and I should have eaten half and taken half with me.
About 3/4 of the way, I started to get lightheaded. I stopped and got my gels from my backpack, and ate those. One was my in-case-of-emergency-break-glass one – a Danish gel from Cycelnerven last year in France. It was my last Danish gel and I really liked those. But I needed nutrition because I only bought a Snickers Ice Cream bar at Wolfes.
It’s always amazing when you get a pick-me-up from nutrition. Once I took on that gel, actually two, I felt good to the end.
I was displaying kilometers, and we had a couple of discussions about how far this ride would be. I thought I had read 62 miles, which is right at 100 km (62.14 to be exact). In fact, as we returned to the parking lot, one rider asked me how many miles were in 100 km. I told her 62.14, and she went to the end of the parking lot and back to make sure she had 100 km. My head unit was already displaying 101 km so I had nothing more to ride for.
It was a great day. A light rain during the night kept the dust on the trail to a minimum. The temperature did warm up to 70 – perfect for a fall bike ride. My legs were trashed because yesterday I hiked the mountain in Duncannon – a very bad idea. My Whoop band agreed – my recovery was just 26% going into the ride.
This is a destination trail. I encourage everyone to ride it once. This was my second time, and with the campground option, I’m not ruling out a third ride – next year.
___
LODGING – Hampton Inn & Suites Downtown, Williamsport
SHUTTLE: $60
DUNCANNON, PENNSYLVANIA
This morning at the grocery store, a young woman started to write her number on a card to give to me. She said she has been a nurse for 20 years and wanted me to have her card if I need a nurse. I assured her that I wasn’t in need of a nurse, then went and climbed a mountain.
My travels took me to Duncannon, Pa., and a hike up to Eagle Edge overlooking the Susquehanna River. A description I read of this hike pretty much warned against climbing directly to Eagle Edge because it was steep. I will confirm that and second their advice. Do not try this (1) at all, and (2) if you do get a hiking partner (in case of a slip or fall).
I started from the town parking lot and remembered to turn left at a split. I had unwittingly joined the Appalachian Trail. As I climbed, I met two hikers and asked for local guidance. They may not have been local at all. They told me to keep straight on the trail, which, unbeknownst to me, was the AT and was descending quickly back to Duncannon. I gave up a lot of elevation before realizing that I had to turn around and go back up.
I came to the “trail,” although not marked, that looked like it continued up the mountain. I decided to follow that. It was not marked, although I could usually find where other people had walked. At times, it was all rocks, and I imagined in warmer weather, this must be home to timber rattlesnakes. I never stopped to rest, although Strava sure did use auto-pause a lot even while I was moving. There were sections where my climbing was on all fours. It was steep.
My legs were burning, and I went into bicycle climbing mountain mode. “One step at a time,” I kept repeating. My body screamed to turn around, but I sensed something good was up there. I didn’t know how much longer I could continue. And with each step into the heavens, I knew I would be retracing those going back down. And if possible, it may have been harder descending than climbing.
I also thought that if I was near the top of the mountain that I could make a loop and have a much gradual descent rather than retracing my steps. I was right.
I expected Eagle Edge to be at the top of the mountain, but came upon it before reaching what I thought would be the summit (I hope that was Eagle Edge). I took a couple of photos and already decided that I could not descend the path that I just climbed. I remembered the trail description and kept hiking.
I started to worry that I would run out of daylight (6:00 pm) and be lost on the mountain. I had faith that following the trail would eventually take me back to the parking lot, even though I knew I was walking in the wrong direction. After 10-15 minutes I came to a fire pit which I had remembered was a landmark. I continued on the unmarked trail, climbing over two downed trees.
Yet I suspected all was good because there were a couple of freshly cut trees removed from the trail. So while not an official trail, someone had been here to maintain it.
It was then that I came to Hawk Rock, which is the destination for most hikers here. After 1-2 minutes, a young lady hiker arrived. I was glad to see a human and asked her for directions back to Duncannon. She pointed to the west, whilst I knew I wanted to head east. But I also figured she just came up from there, so I trusted her 100%.
I then followed the trail, still headed west when I knew I needed to head east, when it did a 180°. I was able to finally feel that I was headed down and in the right direction. And I passed two hikers coming up the trail.
I was glad that I hiked this trail but I doubt that I will do it again. However, the next time, I would be confident that I knew where I was going. And I wouldn’t climb the face of the mountain up to Eagle Edge but rather take the longer way around. I’m not sure I would want to descend it either.
I don’t recommend hiking alone and suggest that you have a hiking pole or two. I found a rotted stick and broke it to be the right size. It helped, although it broke in half partway through my hike.
It wasn’t a bad day for some old guy needing a nurse while climbing through the rock gardens in Pennsylvania.
GALAX, VIRGINIA
I have often heard of the New River Trail and referred to it as a near-bucket list experience for me. I thought that I wanted to ride it, but it wasn’t quite high enough on the list to be bucket list worthy. It was in the category of “If the opportunity presents itself.”
The opportunity presented itself in the form of a club post with the Prince William Cycling Club. It was a gauge of interest followed by plans that came to fruition.
I drove down last night to Dublin, Va., which is only 6-7 miles north of Pulaski. And it is 11 miles south of Radford. We met this morning in Pulaski, and four of us, with bikes, drove to Galax, which was a 50-mile drive.
In Galax, the Bluegrass Capital of Virginia, we met up with a fifth rider, who camped nearby last night. He parked in Pulaski yesterday and rode the trail to Galax, and would be riding back with us to Pulaski.
It was quite chilly. It was 50° (10 ℃) but heavily shaded. In the early miles, we were next to Chestnut Creek, a beautiful waterway in its own right. At times, we were in a deep forest, where the sun wouldn’t reach us. And we felt it.
At one time, when we had little separation and decided to stop and wait, it wasn’t until we saw an opening with sunshine that we stopped simply to soak in the rays. This was in stark contrast to a couple of months earlier we would always look to stop in the shade.
At MP 12 we came to the longest trestle (I think), where the Chestnut Creek empties into the New River. It was here we saw the trail segment to Fries, Va. The New River Trail has two segments from here – the one to Fries and the one to Galax.
The trail was crushed limestone, although some sections were packed so tightly that it looked and felt like asphalt. The dust factor was minimal. If the Great Allegheny Passage (GAP) or C&O Canal Towpath is a 10 for dust, this trail was no more than a 3 or 4.
There are many walnut trees along the trail, and with the seasons turning from summer to fall, there were lots of black walnuts on the trail itself. It’s as though our mission was Smashing Walnuts. As I rode, I thought of nine-year-old Gabriella Miller, whose brain tumor was the size of a walnut, and curing it was like smashing a walnut with a skillet.
Two weeks earlier, I had ridden on the GAP using a tubeless setup with 40 mm tires. But the back tire rubbed on the front derailleur mount screw, so I rode today with 32 mm road tires and did just fine. There really wasn’t any section where I wished I had a wider tire.
Just at the halfway point, we came to Foster Falls. This was an old train station with a caboose and some vending machines. There is a camp store there as well with seasonal hours. Likely, there were better food options on the inside than just vending machines. But I never went inside, and I’m not sure if the store was open. And that is it for food options on the trail. On this day, I had all the nutrition and hydration I needed with me on the bike, but on a hot summer day, a rider will likely want more of each.
Here, we also saw a majestic building, The Inn at Foster Falls. This was originally a hotel, but was later a school, then an orphanage, before being restored to a hotel.
We noticed the decking on many of the trestles seemed to be in pristine condition, or more likely, brand new. The reason was Hurricane Helene, which battered North Carolina last year also hammered southwest Virginia. As we approached Pulaski, we knew that at least one bridge was closed for repair and we had to do our best cyclocross move through someone’s back yard to a highway to get around the closure.
We passed under I-77, which was no big deal. There was minimal road noise that dissipated about 200 meters on either side. We also passed the Jackson Ferry Shot Tower, which was used more than 200 years ago to manufacture lead shot for early settlers. Three of our group walked up to the tower. I rode with my road shoes and decided they were not appropriate for the small hike to get there.
The trail is mostly wooded, which would help keep it cool in the summer. We started in chilly temps and looked to get out of the shady spots and into the sunshine. I like fixtures on a trail. The GAP has trestles and big tunnels. I would discount the two tunnels we went through, but point out that this trail may have more trestles per mile than any I have been on.
The scenery mostly follows the New River and does not offer mountainside vistas. But if you love trestles, and I do, you will definitely want to ride the New River Trail.
EQUIPMENT: Trek Checkpoint gravel bike with 32 mm road tires
FEES: If you park in Galax or at any trailhead, you are in the New River State Park, and there is a daily parking fee. Pro Tip: Buy a pack of jelly beans at REI in Virginia and use your receipt for free admission at any Virginia State Park.
LODGING: I stayed at the Hampton Inn & Suites, Dublin, Va.
LEWES, DELAWARE
Throughout the summer I had hoped to get to Lewes to ride around the Delaware Bay. For various reasons, it did not materialize, and I had hoped that this weekend would work. But a very unfortunate incident at the house kept me grounded until this weekend. The key to that ride is the ferry at Delaware City to Fort Mott, N.J., and in September it runs only on weekends.
My next best opportunity for my Delaware rider was now. I was in Lewes for a softball tournament to watch my granddaughter. With her schedule, my riding time would be short, but I was determined to make the best of it.
I went deep (with my effort) yesterday in Maryland, and my recovery was poor, just 23%. I needed an easy ride with the ocean because the ocean is good for the soul.
I found a user’s map on RideWithGPS and loaded it to my Wahoo. I didn’t modify it to change the start location, so when I started the ride, I was directed to the ride start, which was Rehoboth Beach. I had only gone a mile and a half when I realized this. I made a course adjustment and headed back to the Cape May Ferry, where I was able to force my computer into seeing the loop.
Once I was confident of my route, my only angst came from knowing I was entering Cape Henlopen State Park. Was there an admittance fee? If so, was it for people or just for cars? Would I pay $10 just to ride through? The answer was fees for cars only ($5 for Delaware, $10 for non-Delaware). Bikes and pedestrians were free.
I rode the Domane with 32 mm tires. The route was part paved and part something else. There was sand and gravel and crushed limestone, the latter being on the Junction & Breakwater Trail. And also some boardwalks, both of the nature trail kind and of the saltwater taffy kind.
Shortly after entering the state park, one comes to a tower used as an observation tower during World War II. There is a separate, very windy, trail for bikes. I wasn’t sure if the road and the trail diverged, so I stuck with the trail. I came to a road entrance to the beach and had a nice view of the Atlantic Ocean.
The trail through the park is mostly in the woods, but with a nice view and an observation deck of Gordon’s Pond. At the south end, it connects to the north end of Rehoboth Beach. I deviated from the planned route to go to the boardwalk and see the ocean again. The ocean is good for the soul.
I may have been able to pick up the boardwalk where it began, but I was not certain of the rules. I’m still not.* On the Rehoboth Beach website, which I did not read before I rode, it states, “Bikes are allowed on the boardwalk during the hours of 5:00 a.m. and 10:00 a.m. from May 15th through September 15th.” Since this was September 13 and thus in the window and before 10:00 a.m., I could ride on the boardwalk. But I didn’t know this.
Instead, I looked to find a street that had boardwalk access and came to Olive Street. I surveyed the boardwalk looking for other people on bicycles. Bike rentals of beach cruisers are popular. And I saw some. I also saw a player wearing a Loudoun Liberty softball uniform, Annabelle’s former team. And it was her former teammate, Piper.
I only went three blocks to Rehoboth Avenue, the main entrance street to the boardwalk. Then I headed out of town. Back on course, I found the Junction & Breakwater Trail.
The trail follows the old Penn Central line and is either 8.3 miles (TrailLink) or 5.8 miles (Delaware Greenways) in length. I followed it back to Lewes and hurried back to the hotel, and then off to softball.
*Bikes are permitted May 15 – September 15 from 5:00 a.m. to 10:00 a.m. Does this mean this is the only time they are permitted, i.e., they are prohibited the rest of the year? Or does it mean that during this time, there is a time restriction, and the rest of the year, there is no time restriction? I suspect the latter and not the former, but it isn’t very clear. It might be hard to put it all on a sign at the beach, but on a website, Rehoboth Beach could do better.
MCDONALD, PENNSYLVANIA
A description of the Panhandle Trail from TrailLink:
The Panhandle Trail offers a direct 29-mile journey between the Northern Panhandle of West Virginia and the suburbs of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Although the trail follows an old railroad grade through the hilly terrain, there was only so much the railroad builders could do to flatten the route across the Allegheny Plateau. Expect a steady climb to Bulger, the high point on the rural journey.
The Panhandle Trail leaves off from its western endpoint in Weirton, which borders both Ohio and Pennsylvania in West Virginia’s narrow Northern Panhandle. It makes a steady 16-mile climb through hardwood forests to Bulger, where the trail begins its descent to Collier Township in the western suburbs of Pittsburgh.
I didn’t have a lot of time before my mother’s surprise birthday party and I wanted to ride 40 miles (64 km). I was looking at the Montour Trail, “mostly paved,” but RideWithGPS showed mostly gravel. I think it is mostly paved, but I have to figure out where that is. In the meantime, I found the Panhandle Trail.
This trail, as described, is a 29-mile trail from the western suburbs of Pittsburgh to Weirton, West Virginia. I would not have time for the entire trail and looked for a trailhead close to where I could easily attend my mother’s party. I headed to McDonald, Pa.
I wasn’t expecting much, and I wasn’t disappointed. I look for great scenery, great fixtures, including high trestles and long tunnels. This trail had none of those. The best trestle was passing underneath the Montour Trail.
I wanted a ride that was traffic-free. And a trail that was paved was perfect, even if boring compared to many other rail trails. The scenery was meadows and forests.
It was muggy and the forecast called for a possibility of rain later in the day, around 2:00 or 3:00. From McDonald, I figured I could ride to Weirton and back in three hours or less. I would have to deal with being sweaty for the party, but that’s why I keep skin wash in my car.
I headed out from McDonald and passed four riders, two of whom were on e-bikes, and the two e-bikers would pass by me shortly. I let them have about 100 meters, and kept them in sight to Burgettstown, where they stopped. I figured this might be a popular out-and-back for the locals.
I continued to West Virginia, seeing very few people. It was truly meadows and woods. I expected and was looking for a “State Sign” when I entered West Virginia, and was surprised when I came to a trail head and checked my phone to see where I was.
I checked my Maps app on my phone and saw that I had been in West Virginia for a while, maybe 20-30 minutes. I saw a local and asked how far the trail went. He said perhaps a mile or two, then added that the trail just dead ends at some brush. I decided to turn around.
On the way back, I was very curious as to where the state line was. I held my phone looking at my progress on the map until I saw I was at the state line. Tucked away by a hillside was an old state line marker used by the train.
It was just a ride. I was riding well enough and much better than yesterday on the rooted mess (with gravel) that was the Allegheny River Trail. I was sweaty, so much in fact that I stopped to take some photos because I didn’t trust myself holding the phone while I rode (which is always a bad idea anyhow).
With about 20 km remaining, the sky turned dark. The air got cooler. Oh boy. I hoped that I didn’t have to ride in it. I didn’t want to take pictures on the way out, preferring to make mental notes of where to stop on the way back. And with the sky threatening, I really didn’t have time for photos.
I had passed a “water stop” on the way out that looked unique. Unbeknownst to me, it belonged to a legend. Jack Eckenrode started cycling at age 75 and won national championships in his 90s. The messages on the whiteboard would indicate that he loves having a water stop for users of the trail. And people love stopping there. I didn’t take water, only a photo.
I had hoped I could outride the storm, but I could not. My brother-in-law told me that where I was, there was nowhere to go. And he was right.
I had no choice. Even if I could find shelter, I was on the clock to finish and get to the party. I pedaled a little faster, but only the last five miles (eight km) trended downhill. While it seemed I had a headwind on the way it felt like a headwind going back to. In reality, it was probably a cross-head going out and a cross-tail coming back.
It started to rain, a little bit at first and then it was a downpour. If you were caught in it you needed a light to be seen (I had it although a hole in the trail jarred it loose). I passed by one rider who was huddled under some trees. And yes, there was lightning.
I just rode as fast as I could safely until I got back to McDonald. It seems stupid since I was already soaked (squishy feet), but when I found a picnic table under a shelter at the start/finish, I ducked under it while the storm raged on for five more minutes, partly to protect my phone.
On a day I was worried how sticky and sweaty I would be at the party, I found that this would be no problem. I did not need a shower today. Nature took care of that.
PAVEMENT: 4/5 (a little rooted near McDonald. Plus I found a hole.
SCENERY: 1/5
FIXTURES: 1/5
LODGING: Spark by Hilton, Meadowlands, Washington, Pa.
___
EPILOGUE: My phone took a beating. At first, I got a warning that the connector cord had water in it. When it was dry enough, I could charge and use CarPlay. Over the next week, CarPlay would work intermittently. By the end of the week, it didn’t work at all. Charging worked in that port, but data transfer no longer worked. On Monday, I submitted a warranty claim on the phone and by that evening had a new phone in hand. Lesson: On unsettled weather days, carry a zip-lock bag for your phone.
EMLEMNTON, PENNSYLVANIA
A description from TrailLink:
The Allegheny River Trail runs on asphalt between Franklin and Emlenton for 27.5 miles and on an isolated section between Foxburg and Parker for 2.5 miles.
I spent the night before in Clarion, Pa. and was simply looking for a place to ride today. My introduction to the Allegheny River Trail came from TrailLink, which advertised a 27.5-mile asphalt trail. I don’t think my narrative needs to be lengthy.
A paved rail trail sounded great to me. What was not advertised was a somewhat nasty one-mile gravel detour, which appears permanent. Perhaps landowners were able to buy some land from the railroad before it became a rail trail.
“Four miles past the viewing platform, the trail veers onto gravelly North Kent Road for 0.75 mile through the Sunny Slopes community.“
The gravel section is gnarly. When I came upon it, I wondered if it was the end of asphalt, but continued until I met a local and she told me the gravel road came back to the trail in 1/2 mile. Because of this gravel section, I would not recommend this trail for a road bike with tires smaller than 30 or 32 mm.
My brother-in-law calls the homeowner who appears to be blocking the trail a jerk. I don’t presume to know what went on, how the entire trail is on the right of way of the former Allegheny Valley Railroad, but one guy has property. His stance is obviously NIMBY. Or for this trail, NIMFY.
It would not be that big of deal if the county or township paved the Sunny Slopes Connector Road. But that gravel section keeps this trail from being a premier destination trail.
There are NO amenities along the trail. Carry enough food and water.
I had not read the description very well, if at all, when I came to the Rockland Tunnel. About 100 meters from the tunnel, the air got cold, and I knew I was approaching nature’s air conditioner even before I saw the tunnel entrance.
The two tunnels on this trail are VERY DARK because they both have curved or dogleg portions. It takes a while before you can see the light at the end of the tunnel. A light is a necessity to ride in the tunnel. Not by law, just by common sense.
The first section of the trial, to includes both tunnels, is very wooded. The second section, north of the Sandy Creek Trail, is wide open and is not shaded.
The first section is rooted. It was not as bad as the Mount Vernon Trail near D.C., but was just as bad as the Western Maryland Rail Trail in Hancock, Md., until it was repaved in the Fall 2024. It is nearly unridable in spots. That, along with a gnarly gravel section, keeps this from being a premier trail.
You never know what you will find on a new trail and I came upon a railroad trestle. At first, I thought it was an active railroad, but I would soon learn that it was part of a second rail trail.
I stopped briefly at the sign in Belmar before continuing on to Franklin, which was five miles away. When I reached Franklin, the Allegheny River Trail ended but it does continue into or past Franklin to Oil City as another trail. I turned around.
I returned to the Belmar sign and then followed the “trail” extension that led to the Sandy Creek Trail. Less than 100 yards of trail went underneath the Bolman Bridge. There, the trail looked to continue as a hiking trail but also connected to steps up to the bridge itself. There is bike path or rail on which you can push your bike while walking. I wonder in retrospect if it would have been easier to take my bike up the steps instead of pushing it because gravity was winning and wanting to push the bike back down.
I climbed the steps which wasn’t easy. Near the top, the clearance is low, and one has to duck even while walking.
The Sandy Creek Trail is a 12-mile paved rail trail pretty much in the middle of nowhere. But it does have two fixtures worth seeing. The first is the 1,385′ (422m) Belmar Bridge that crosses the Allegheny River. I rode across the bridge and even took some time just to enjoy the view of the river from the bridge.
Unbeknownst to me, if I took the time to ride some of the trail, I would have come to the Mays Mill or Deep Valley Tunnel, a 967′ (295m) structure that doesn’t sound like it’s in great shape. They have a tunnel inside the tunnel. The Sandy Creek Trail was originally the Jamestown, Franklin & Clearfield Railroad. I would be willing to check out this trail as a standalone ride, but it also isn’t a destination trail.
Both tunnels on the Alleghenry River Trail appear to be a great shape, although there was a lot of water leaking near the south end of the Rockland Tunnel. The surface instead is smooth asphalt as opposed to the Abandoned Tunnels near Breezewood which are built on the decaying Pennsylvania Turnpike and are littered with glass.
The trail was relatively empty, but the few people I saw tended to favor e-bikes, especially e-Mountain Bikes. And there were some people milling around at both tunnel entrances.
As I rode back through the gravel section, a homeowner asked me if I was okay on water. Even though I had 1/2 a bottle of water remaining, I underestimated what I would be drinking the final 14 miles (22.5 km). I violated my own rule: Never turn down an offer of water.
Summary:
Scenery: 5/5
Pavement: 2/5 (3/5 for the roots and minus one for the one mile of gravel)
Fixtures: 4/5 Tunnels are cool, but no trestles other than the Big Sandy Trail (optional)
Not a destination trail, but if I rode it again,n I would want my gravel bike.
DUNCANNON, PENNSYLVANIA
I was surfing on Facebook and one of those annoying and not-requested groups showed up. It featured a paddlewheel ferry on the Susquehanna River. I read quickly to see what kind of ferry it was, that is, was it passenger only? I saw they took cars plus horses and buggies, so I figured they would take a bike.
I went to RideWithGPS and looked for bike routes around Millersburg. I found a 44-mile ride that started at the ferry in Millersburg and ended there as well, with a ferry ride across the river from a campground on the west side of the river.
It was a bit difficult to find current information about the ferry, but it seemed to operate only on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. I texted them and got confirmation that for today (Friday), the hours were 10-4.
I hoped to leave the house by 7:00 a.m. but I was a little late. My ETA kept creeping back as I drove north towards Harrisburg. As I got closer to Millersburg, I realized I didn’t have a lot of room for error if I started from Millersburg and rode the 44 miles on the route that I downloaded, should I have any problems. On a clock face, Millersburg would be around 2:00. Duncannon would be at the bottom, i.e., 6:00. I headed to Duncannon to start since it would be the closest starting point on the route as I drove north.
I was very glad to make this alteration to the route.. The original route had a half-mile diversion to a Sheetz on U.S. 22. This section is quite busy, although there is a shoulder. There is no way to get back to the turnoff short of salmoning upstream against traffic on the shoulder. No thanks. Since I started in Duncannon, I did not need to start with a rest stop and was able to cut this part out.
I found an empty lot, a private lot, that was posted as open for visitors. It was at the confluence of the Juniata and Susquehanna Rivers. You could feel the power of the rivers and appreciate the overwhelming beauty.
As soon as I started pedaling, I was on a narrow two-lane bridge that crossed the Juniata River. As quickly as I went through an underpass, I turned right to leave town and started climbing. There were no mountains today. There were plenty of hills. The longest hill was probably 1.5 miles.
Most of the way from Duncannon to Newport was on backcountry roads. No traffic. Zero.
Newport is a neat-looking town. I followed my map and passed the Weis grocery store, which was listed on this route as a rest stop. It was here I crossed back over the Juniata.
The bridge over the river looked to be a long span without a wide berth or shoulder. I could see a sidewalk and decided that I would not ride on the deck. It was a wise decision. The deck was an open grate bridge. Those aren’t fun to ride on. I was glad I was on the sidewalk.
Leaving Newport, I rode 2.5 miles on the Juniata Parkway, which was more like a lightly traveled highway, two lanes, and not a parkway. Turning off, I headed back into the woods. And saw the dreaded orange sign – FRESH OIL AND CHIPS.
Ugh. Owl Hollow Road didn’t appear to have been done recently, as I never saw fresh oil. But there were plenty of loose chips, gravel, and I had to use caution even while climbing. The road was empty, maybe because it had been recently chipped. No cars. Just a lovely ride through the forest down to the river.
I came down to U.S. 15 and alternately rode on the shoulder of 15 and Old Trail Road, a parallel road to 15. I came to the ferry campground and had to cross over a median on 15. That was sort of sketchy. I think the route was designed for me to cross at an intersection and then salmon on the shoulder for about 100 yards.
The Ferry Campground looked very nice. I followed the road next to the river and saw the ferry was docked and boarding. I was hoping to enjoy an ice cream at the camp store before the ride, but instead walked onto the ferry.
It is a ferry that has been operating for 200 years (“began as early as 1825”). Not these actual boats, of course, but the ferry business. There were two cars and one trike (three-wheel motorcycle), plus one bicycle on this paddlewheel ferry. And a bunch of people.
Halfway across the river, the captain announced he was going to sound the horn. I expected a good, hearty riverboat horn, but instead it was a 1920s Model-T a-oooga horn. We were approaching two guys floating and fishing in a canoe, and the captain yelled out to them, “Please move, you are in our way.”
It appeared at first that they were not going to move. I wondered who had the right of way. But the canoe moved.
As we disembarked, the captain was very curious about where I was going. He knew I was going one way, he had greeted me by telling me I looked like a professional cyclist, but was concerned that I would miss the last trip and be stranded. I assured him that I had a bike and that I would be fine.
Leaving Millersburg, I was on State Highway 147. There was enough of a shoulder that much of the way back for the next 15 miles was on a shoulder. There were a few areas where I had to be in the travel lane, but I didn’t hold up traffic often.
In Halifax, I found a convenience store and was able to get water. I thought it might be the last store I would see headed back to Duncannon. But the next couple of miles had lots of options, which is why I liked starting in Duncannon. I stopped at a Sheetz. I was going to buy water, but had a full bottle on the back cage. I simply filled my front bottle with ice and poured the water from the second one into the iced-up bottle. And bought a Snickers.
After another mile or so, I was back on country roads. With two miles to go, I came back to Hwy 147. I wondered why I wasn’t routed that way initially but I think the trade-off of highway for country roads was the answer.
I had to cross the Susquehanna River at Clarks Ferry Bridge on U.S. 22. There is a shoulder, but at the end, it was very sketchy waiting for an opening to get to the left turn lane so I could get back to where I parked.
What a nice ride. Mostly very rural roads and, of course, a paddlewheel ferry. I don’t think I will do this ride again simply because it’s too far to travel. But if someone wanted me to join them they I would agree. I feel strongly that starting in Duncannon is the key, first to avoid the Sheetz on 22 as a necessary stop, and second, to have the stores after Halifax as an option near the end of the ride.
TYPE OF RIDE: ADVENTURE
NUMBER OF RIDERS: SOLO
EASTON, MARYLAND
It began with a description I read of St. Michaels, Maryland, that included a ferry ride across the Tred Avon River. I first came to this part of Maryland’s Eastern Shore in July 2022 and have been back an additional 12 times.
My rides up to this year have been mostly a loop out to St. Michaels and then Tilghman Island and back across the ferry. The roads to Tilghman Island are somewhat busy, but with a gigantic shoulder, the size of a traffic lane, to ride on.
This year I was slow to get to Easton but when I lost my trip to France, Easton became my comfort ride. I did an out-and-back ride on June 9 and then started looking for some exploratory routes. I found a Metric (metric century is 100 km or 62.14 miles) called the Tri-County Ice Cream Classic. It went east, then northeast from Easton, before coming back through Easton, then out to the Oxford Ferry. Nice ride.
While I was riding it, I saw road markings for the Tour de Talbot. I found their website and saw they used more southerly roads to make a Metric but also included the ferry. I rode this on June 23 and loved the route. Once it got out of Easton, it was all on country roads that were virtually empty. And much of it was wooded.
I went back on my birthday for my birthday ride, which is where I (still) ride my age in miles. I took the last Metric route, added a 10 km loop in the woods, and modified two turns to add a couple more miles.
The last ride I did still had the first 11 miles, mostly with Easton proper, and with at least four miles in the heart of Easton with stoplights and stop signs. The remaining seven miles were still within a residential or light business area. But once beyond Easton, it was glorious. Country roads. No traffic. Much of it is wooded. And nearly all of it is flat.
When I rode the “southern” Metric, I was unsure where there would be water stops. Going through St. Michaels is easy because there are probably four or five places to stop to get more water or food. But once I left Easton, I saw nothing. At Mile 35, I crossed U.S. 50 at Trappe and there is a Valero gas station/convenience store where I got water and ice for my bottles.
I reached Oxford before noon, which is when the Scottish Highland Creamery opened. I continued on to the ferry. Back on familiar roads, I was running out of water. I decided not to do the Metric but instead use my Wahoo’s Route to Start feature and take the shortest way back. At the turn, I saw an Exxon about 200 meters ahead. I went straight, got more ice and water, and finished the Metric.
Once I figured out where the necessary stops were, it made doing the 70-mile ride easy. In the last 20 miles, the route crosses a drawbridge and then a neat-looking wooden bridge over Leeds Creek.
Easton has become one of my happy places, although it’s hard to beat a climb up Horseshoe Curve in Altoona. Every ride is better with a ferry ride and this makes it one of the best.
However, on August 7, I was riding with Tim, and we came to ride a Metric. When we came to the ferry, we found out it was closed. We headed back to Easton, up the Easton Parkway, then back to meet up where our planned route was.
Easton is just a great place to ride. This post isn’t about one ride but a general overview of an area. Going out to Tilghman’s Island is a nice ride. It is wide open in the sun and mostly on a wide shoulder with traffic. The Tour de Talbot route and what I modified is on mostly rural wooded roads. It is one of the most traffic-free areas I know to ride.
