DUNCANNAN, PENNSYLVANIA
We talk about suffering on a bike as a badge of honor to ride and to suffer. But why would anyone want to suffer? This sport should be fun. Yet, some of my biggest achievements could only be accomplished by suffering. But those are epic events. The day-to-day bike riding should not be about suffering. I don’t ride every day to suffer. I ride to find peace.
Today’s ride was ostensibly to find a viewing location to see Union Pacific’s Big Boy locomotive as it travels from Enola, Pa., to Altoona, Pa. And it was a chance to ride the Millersburg Ferry because every ride is better with a ferry. Or ice cream. Or a ferry and ice cream.
I arrived and parked at the confluence of the Juniata River with the Susquehanna River. This is a private lot but is open to the public. Keep it nice. Since I was last here last August with the grands for the Little League World Series, they have cleared lots of trees and opened up the views.
I crossed the Juniata River via a narrow concrete bridge into Duncannon and was immediately caught behind stopped traffic waiting to go up the hill on Newport Road. It was a construction zone. I moved to the front and then waited until the traffic was cleared to go. I took my position at the back of the traffic as only one lane was open. The climb was one mile, and I felt just a tiny bit bad that cars at the top were being held for me as I climbed. But just a little.
I mapped a different route than I rode last year because I was looking for railroad crossings that the general public would not find. I thought my first turn was new and was confused when a Strava segment popped up for a climb seconds after I passed a neat-looking bridge I remembered from last year. Only later would I discover that I came down this road last year. I thought I took a different way.
But I found a railroad crossing that I can ride to. There’s no parking there, which is the beauty of it since I will be on a bike. It’s also a dead-end road called Toe Path. Perfect.
Satisfied that I found my viewing location, I rode on. The first Strava segment came up, and I quickly destroyed it. Then a second one. And a third. And with all of them, I didn’t go deep or suffer. I just rode, but apparently a lot better than I did last year.
My route had a sharp turn on Old Limekiln Road, but as I reached the intersection, I saw the dreaded orange cones and the sign that every cyclist hates. Fresh Oil and Chips. In that instant, I decided to push on to Newport on Newport Road, the same way I went last year. Old Limekiln Road was to take me to more possible viewing locations, but I was happy with the one that I had found.
Except for the on-street riding in Newport, I had followed the same route that I rode last year. I crossed over the Juniata River in Newport after admiring the old train station that has fallen into complete disrepair. What a shame. The bridge is an open grate bridge, so I opted for the sidewalk on the bridge, which was cement.
Alongside the Juniata River on River Road, I passed a building that last year had a separate vibrant BBQ. The small BBQ building was gone and everything was closed. Maybe it wasn’t that vibrant after all. I turned on Owl Hollow Road to go up over Buffalo Mountain. Last year this road had the orange sign and cones and I didn’t see an option around it. So I knew that today I would climb better than I did last year since I wasn’t on a freshly tarred road.
It was then downhill to Rte 15, which, despite being signed for 55 mph, has very wide shoulders and feels safer than many country roads. It was a mile and a half to the entrance of the Ferryboat Campsites. Maybe if you are driving south on 15, you go another mile, then make a U-turn, but I crossed the four lanes and rode the shoulder against traffic for about 50 yards to reach the campground, which is where one catches the ferry.
The ferry cost $5. The captain asked about my ride and complimented me on my jersey (USA 250). He was interested in my route, so I showed him a map on my phone that I was following back to Clarks Ferry Bridge. He asked if I was going over Peters Mountain (I didn’t know), then looked and said, “That little zig zag there – that’s Peters Mountain.” I felt great today, and I felt good that I was going over Peters Mountain, although I did not.
Reaching Millersburg, I opted not to ride up the steep ramp leaving the river mainly because I was in the wrong gear and didn’t want to get started on the hill. I went to the left for an easier exit and came to an ice cream shop, Jackie’s Snackies. It was $3 for a scoop.
Leaving Millersburg, there was a 5-mile segment which was flat but into a headwind. The road was newly paved and unmarked but it was wide with no crap on the shoulders. I destroyed that segment by 6-7 minutes.
There was a final Strava segment on my route that I had not starred and therefore was unaware of. I soft-pedaled near the end and am confident that I would have set a PR on that one too. It was the only segment that gave me my second best time (two out of two). I was annoyed that I missed starring it and therefore going for it. I felt good.
All day, my legs felt good. The body felt good. I didn’t suffer, and I consistently did better than last year. I was helped by the weather as it was overcast and the sun wasn’t beating down on me as it did over the weekend when the temperature hit 101° (38 ℃) on Saturday. Not only did I PR each segment that I had marked, I also destroyed them. And for all but one, I became the age group number one as well. It was a great day on the bike.
Now planning for Big Boy.
EPILOGUE – Thinking about the captain’s directions over Peters Mountain, one would not ride over Peters Mountain to get to Clarks Ferry Bridge. It looks like a formidable climb, but it would put you on US 22 about two miles south of the bridge, and you don’t want to ride on 22. No cyclist (using RidewithGPS) has been over it in the last 30 days, and it shows very little activity all-time. Perhaps one would ride over Peters Mountain while staying east of the Susquehanna River, but never to get to Clarks Ferry Bridge.
Lodging was at the Hampton Inn Harrisburg-North. The odd-number rooms face I-83. Not super close, but close enough you can hear traffic. If you book here, select an even-number room.
