Category: Pennsylvania

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A Test of the Knee

SAXTON, PENNSYLVANIA

It’s hard to believe that it has been 12 weeks since my knee replacement surgery. I don’t think my knee is where it should be but I will withhold judgment until my next doctor’s appointment.

Since surgery, I have ridden less than 200 miles in total. In many years I am over 1,000 miles and sometimes over 2,000 by this time. But I am not completely “without legs.” I have been riding a stationary bike almost every day, often for up to an hour at a time.

This road. Henrietta Mountain Road. I found it only because some Altoona locals told me about it a few years ago. And I rode it last year. It compared to some of the toughest two-mile climbs I have done.

Last year I struggled. I even thought about stopping on the climb. Or turning back. But this year I seemed at peace with it.

I drove to Saxton and looked for a place to park. I found one at the intersection of Pa. 26 and 913. The car was off the road but otherwise out in the open. I pedaled to the foot of the climb. Just after starting and no more than one-half mile in, I wondered if I had locked the car.  I had left my car keys (I had the clicker), wallet, and laptop computer all in the car and available to anyone if it wasn’t locked.

Although I didn’t remember locking it, of course, I always lock it. I decided it would be foolish to go back to the car. There are somethings that you do automatically and locking your car is one of them, right?

The lower section of the climb starts at 6-8% then gets tougher. Soon the grades were 12% and some reached the 20s. I stayed seated, mostly, but occasionally got out of the saddle. It was hot (87°). For the two-mile climb, only six cars had to pass me. The road is lightly traveled.

At times, I could feel the knee clicking. I could hear the rhythm of the knee. But it didn’t hurt so I pushed on.

The road is steep. Period. I didn’t “paperboy” but I crept. I didn’t stop. I just kept the momentum going.

I did not review the route. The first/last time I turned around at the top. Today I went over the top. I expected to level off and come into Rt. 164 at the top of the mountain, and have a great ride back down. Oh boy, was I wrong.

It was a nice descent into a valley although I did not lose all the elevation I had climbed. It just felt like it. I followed Henrietta Mountain Road to the end, catching two Amish girls with a horse and wagon.

I came to Rt. 164. Instead of being at the top of the mountain, I was at the bottom. And here the road is high-speed, with a 55 mph speed limit. There were guard rails on both sides and no shoulder. And uphill of course because I had to cross back over the mountain. I regretted this route.

But I survived, with a note not to ride this way again. On the descent, I pedaled until I ran out of gears. I hit 49 mph. I so wanted 50 but with a 50 tooth front cassette, and a swollen knee, I just couldn’t find it today.

Back to the car but fully satisfied. I opened the car and found it was unlocked. Sick feeling. But checked. Keys there. Wallet there. Laptop computer there. The car was undisturbed. Whew! Dumb by me.

In the evening the legs felt sore. Like they had a workout. It’s been a long time since I was able to push myself on a climb like that. So glad I did. And looking at the map there may be another way back if I do this one again.

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A Mountain and a Rail Trail

HOPEWELL, PENNSYLVANIA

Probably eight years ago I asked some riders from Altoona what the hardest climb in the area was. I was thinking Blue Knob or Horseshoe Curve. One rider told me to find Henrietta Mountain Road. And today I did.

Parking at Hopewell

This was was tough. Although it wasn’t too long, just two miles. It’s always hard to compare climbs but I can compare it to some other two mile climbs or sections I have done.

That’s pretty good company, I would say.

I started my ride in Hopewell (Bedford Co.) on the H&BT rail trail. More on that later.

At Saxton I found the infamous Henrietta Mountain Road. I did no research and instead, just rode. It seemed to kick up to 7-8% right away. But after a quarter-mile just past an intersection, the real climb began.

Henrietta Mountain Road and intersection with Rte 164

It seemed to kick to 12% then went even higher. I have no real pictures because I wasn’t stopping although my body wanted me to. The road was winding but with only one sharp turn I hesitate to call a switchback. It was heavily wooded on both sides. It was beautiful. But it offered no panoramic views because it was so wooded.

Summit of Henrietta Road looking back towards Saxton (the tough side)

I tried to not look up the road because every time I did I could see it was going higher. After two miles, although I had no idea at the time, I could see the top. And here I made a mistake by not researching the climb. I assumed the road went over the top and down the other side. So I simply turned around.

A barn on Rte 26

The descent back was steep. Rough pavement. And windy if not sharp turns. It wasn’t fun. I couldn’t let the bike roll. What I learned after the fact was I should have kept going. I could have gone another 3-4 miles where I would have joined Rte 164 coming out of Martinsburg. Then It looks like a straight descent back to Saxton. In other words, a fun descent. Oh well, next time.

Crushed limestone at Hopewell

I rode back to Hopewell and explored the trail a little more. At Hopewell going north for two miles, the trail is crushed limestone in great shape. A road bike is fine although I wouldn’t want to ride 20 miles on this.

Gravel road headed south from Hopewell

Going south the trail was a road. A gravel road that led to a camping area. That was harder on the bike. I rode a couple of miles then decided I had had enough. Wrong bike for this surface.

H&BT trail near Cypher

The signature landmark on the trail seemed to be the trestle over the Juniata River. I had decided the surface wasn’t right to pedal to it.

Bridge over Juniata River near Cypher

The trail head seemed to be on my way back to Somerset where I was headed. So I drove to Cypher to bike that section.

I don’t know if it was good or bad but the trestle was probably no more than a quarter mile away. But it was gorgeous. Maybe even more gorgeous was the cut in the hillside. The trail here was crushed limestone, again.

Bridge over Juniata River near Cypher

It’s a beautiful trail. If there wasn’t the section by the recreational area which was a gravel road, I’d have no problem recommending a road bike for the surface. But this trail needs wide tires. I may ride this on a mountain bike.

Cut in the hillside by Cypher

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Spokes of Hope Saturday Ride

TREXLERTOWN, PENNSYLVANIA

Our riding group from Spokes of Hope met at the Valley Preferred Cycling Center for what has become our annual ride in the valley.  I joined Ken and Cindi Hart, Jay Bodkin, Kathy Robinson, Andrew Werner, and Branan Cooper (but Branan could ride only for a short bit).

Ken Hart, Kathy Robinson
Ken Hart, Kathy Robinson

Cindi asked us to gather and we formed a small circle. She gave thanks for friendship and then I offered up that this must also be a dedication circle. I led by speaking about Jake, whose family I had visited an hour earlier. And I dedicated my ride and day to Amelia Schmidt.

Bowers
Bowers, Pa.

We rode out country roads to Topton. But not without incident. Jay came to railroad tracks and did a bunny hop. He hopped right out of his cleat – the shoe suspended on his pedal. He did an emergency repair and we were able to continue as a group.

Topton
Topton, Pa.

We did a loop out to Bowers and ended up at the cafe in Topton next to the railroad tracks. While drinking milkshakes and smoothies (I had a smoothie), Cindi asked for a hill on the return ride where we could ride for the people we have dedicated to.

Near Topton, Pa.
Near Topton, Pa.

Andrew found a hill near Mertztown. Cindi and I went up. I yelled for Amelia and Alex and Jake.

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Andrew and Kathy followed. Jay and Ken watched. After the dedication, we passed a pumpkin patch and were surprised to see they were harvesting pumpkins in August.

Well, at least this writer was surprised.

Cindi Hart
Cindi Hart

It is always great riding with these cancer survivors as they enjoy their lives and triumph over cancer.

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Clockwise: Ken, Andrew, Jay, Kathy, Barry, Cindi’s shoes (Credit: Cindi Hart)

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Extreme Skinny Dipping

BEDFORD, PENNSYLVANIA

I met Rocky Sprow and his friend, Ed, at Fort Bedford. It was a beautiful morning.

Bedford Springs
Bedford Springs

We rolled out past Bedford Springs. It is a beautiful property with a nice golf course. We followed country roads for more than 20 miles to Lake Koon and Lake Gordon.

Bedford Springs
Bedford Springs

When we came to the spillway at the dam we stopped to view the lake on one side (Lake Koon) and the spillway on the other (empties into Lake Gordon). I met a young couple and had a conversation with them.

In a few minutes these kids would get naked and jump!
In a few minutes these kids would get naked and jump!

The young woman surprised me by jumping up on the top of the railing overlooking the lake. I went over to take a picture because I told her I thought “she was nuts.” We talked for a few minutes looking down at the water. I thought the distance looked similar to jumping into the River Aare in Bern, Switzerland.

Lake Koon
Lake Koon

The couple had been getting ready to jump and we weren’t leaving. I was enjoying talking to them about jumping at that time in Switzerland that I jumped. Finally, the young man somewhat impatiently said to me “well, we were getting ready to jump naked into the lake once you leave.” And I said, “we don’t mind if you jump.” And they did. They stripped quickly, dropped their clothes on the dam roadway, and jumped. Total time from standing to jumping was about two seconds.

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Rocky Sprow and Barry Sherry

Once they surfaced I yelled down to them and asked if they wanted their clothes taken down to the lake. They said they did so I gathered up their clothes and took them lakeside. They were still (hiding) in the water so I got their attention and showed them where I left them. I also noticed a pair of shorts were near the end of the dam. I think the young man probably left a pair there and when they were done, he would walk up, grab the shorts, then go retrieve their clothes in the middle of the dam. So glad I could help!

We remounted then followed the road another couple of miles until it dipped into Maryland at U.S. Rte 220. We were in Maryland for just two miles. We made a loop then hooked up with our original route to follow it back to Bedford.

We crossed the dam again and saw no evidence of our naked dam jumpers. We continued on.

The route back was a bit punchy on the way back. I secretly decided to win every KOM from my friends. I think I did (of course it helps if they don’t know what I’m doing to them).

Bedford Springs Old Course
Bedford Springs Old Course

Back to Bedford, it was a great day. Of course, not every day do two young people strip naked in front of you and jump off a dam. Stay classy Bedford, stay classy.

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My Last Ride With Dad

MARKLETON, PENNSYLVANIA

After a lifetime of not riding with my dad, three years ago I was able to take him on the Great Allegheny Passage which runs through his backyard in Somerset County, Pa. We went again in 2013 but missed a ride last year (despite trying but my dad was too tired the day we were going to ride). This time, we got it right.

Markleton on the GAP
Markleton on the GAP

I told my sister, Betsy, that I would meet her and Dad at Markleton, Pa. on the Great Allegheny Passage. Betsy followed him to Fort Hill, where he left his Jeep, then the two of them drove and met me at Markleton. It was in the low 60s but absolutely beautiful.

GAP near Markleton
GAP near Markleton

I chose this route because of the newly opened Pinkerton tunnel. Also, my dad hadn’t been this far on the trail. I knew it trended downhill from Markleton to Fort Hill and packed a lot of scenery into its five miles.

GAP in the Fall
GAP in the Fall

With leaves mostly still on the trees in Northern Virginia, it was strange to be here where most leaves are on the ground. The trail was fully covered in places.

Cassleman River near Markleton
Casselman River near Markleton

Words cannot describe how pretty the trail is. We went a couple of miles then came to the Pinkerton Trestles. It was probably 10 years since I last rode through here which was always Trestle – Detour – Trestle. And that was a beautiful route.

Dad at Pinkerton Low Trestle

Prior to the tunnel, the trail followed the railbed across the Pinkerton Low trestle. Rather than enter the tunnel, there was a one-mile detour out and around the tunnel which followed the natural flow of the Castleman River. But with the tunnel open it was now a straight shot from trestle to tunnel to trestle.

Pinkerton Tunnel
Pinkerton Tunnel

With the tunnel opened, it was even more beautiful. Although the trail trended downhill, it is mostly flat. One can’t coast but pedaling is a little easier in this direction. We were in a heavy forest and with leaves on the trail one could not see the surface of the trail.

Heavy leaf coverage on the trail
Heavy leaf coverage on the trail

And then – the trestle. We came to the Pinkerton trestle although we didn’t stop on it. We saw the tunnel and kept riding. It is not lighted, one would be helpful but is not necessary.

Pinkerton Tunnel
Pinkerton Tunnel

At the far end, we were on the Pinkerton High Trestle. We stopped and took pictures off of this one.

Pinkerton High Trestle
Besty and Dad on the Pinkerton High Trestle

Reaching Fort Hill where his Jeep was parked, my dad asked, “Is this the end?” There was resignation in his voice but he wanted to keep riding. I was worried that if we rode four miles down to Harnedsville it would be too much for my 86 year-old father to ride another four miles back up to his car. I grabbed his keys and drove his Jeep down to Harnedsville. And so we rode.

Besty, Dad, Barry
Besty, Dad, Barry

Betsy and my dad rode ahead. Arriving at the trailhead with his Jeep, I rode back up to the trail to meet them and we then continued to the Harnedsville trailhead. At the end, we got a little concerned when he went into the middle of the road where the trail crosses. He stopped. This is a road normally lightly traveled, but now there was a car coming from each direction. Betsy yelled “Dad!” I got the attention of one car and motioned for him to slow or stop. All of a sudden it clicked and Dad said “OK!” And then he moved. Whew!

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Dad near Markleton

Although my Dad wanted to ride ahead and look at a church in Harnedsville, there was no way we were going to ride on the road with him.  I loaded his bike in his Jeep and he drove home.

GAP at Confluence
GAP at Confluence

Betsy and I rode on down to Confluence. We looked for a place for a snack and found stairs leading from the trail with a bike trough to walk the bikes. The problem was the trough was on the side and not in the middle so the pedals hit the supports as I pushed the bike. Oh well.

Stairs from the GAP, Confluence, Pa.
Stairs from the GAP, Confluence, Pa.

We grabbed some cookies and a drink then rode back up to Markleton. What a gorgeous day on a bike.

Confluence overlooking the Youghigheny
Confluence overlooking the Youghiogheny

UPDATE: (SEPT. 14, 2016) – This post has been updated to “My Last Ride With Dad.” With each ride, we wondered if this was our last ride with him but this ride had more of a finality to it than the others. My dad seemed a little out of it standing in the road and I worried for his safety going home. He made it safely and then promptly sold the Jeep.

He never talked about it but looking back I sense he knew his mind was failing and that it was best to sell that beat-up Jeep he loved so much. We were just talking about another ride this spring when he fell in April. I wanted one more ride. I looked first at recumbent bikes. Handcycles. Tandems where I did the work. Ultimately, he would never ride again. And on this day we said our final goodbye to him we were thankful for the rides we shared with him. We were the lucky ones.

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Berlin

BERLIN, PENNSYLVANIA

I was visiting my parents and hoping to get in a nice ride but the weather was anything but nice. So instead of starting in Somerset I set out from Berlin, instead.

Pa. Turnpike on Tunnel Road
Pa. Turnpike on Tunnel Road

It was 50 degrees (10 C) and raining. A good day to try out my new Pearl Izumi rain jacket. I crossed over the summit and was in a moderate rain. But worse than the rain was visibility was poor. I rode the brakes on the descent – a hill that I have hit 50 mph before. Today I kept it in the 30s.

DELETEBERLIN1

I was hoping for a loop ride back up to US 30. As I went through New Baltimore and turned around I was surprised to see a cycling group on Rt. 31. The day before I had seen them and suggested the safest cycling roads in the area. My suggestion was met with an arrogant and condescending response from a staffer. Shesaid she had looked at Google maps and satellite images. Well, OK then.

Yet today they decided not to ride on the signed Pa. Bike Route S but on the truck-heavy Rte. 31. In the rain. That was the least safe option they could choose. It was one I would not, and did not ride.

DELETEBERLIN3

I turned around and decided not to ride the loop but simply to go back the route I had come from. Rte 30 would be too long today in the rain. The shorest was route would be where the ycling group had gone but it was much too dangerous. I knew Pa. Bike Rte S was farther than staying on Rte 31 but thought it might be fun to see who would get to the top of the hill first. I did.

DELETEBERLIN2

I reached the summit then headed back to Berlin. I knew with my upcoming trip to Portland this might be the last day on the bike for a while so it was good to get out – even on a day I got soaked.

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Punxsutawney Phil

PUNXSUTAWNEY, PENNSYLVANIA

I’ve done this ride before although never quite like this. It was “wheels down” at 6:30 a.m. on a cool morning with a cloud cover. I left Friedens and rode up Pa. Rte 281 to Stoystown and not a single car passed me. I stopped briefly to take a picture when I found one of the decorative 1930s gas pumps that celebrate the Old Lincoln Highway.

Old gas pump, Stoystown, Pa.

In Stoystown I got on Plank Road for what should have been an enjoyable descent down to and past the Quemahoning Reservoir. And then I remembered a couple of weeks earlier laughing at Frenchman Arnaud Demare stopping during the Tour de France and running into someone’s camper to use their bathroom. Karma would get her revenge today although there were no campers alongside these forested roads. The good thing is that no cars passed me on this stretch of road either. (**)it happens.

Quemahoning Reservoir

Riding my new Trek Domane, I was wondering if my average speed would be higher today than it was four years ago when I was chased by Rottweilers. But I rode at a relaxed pace, often stopping to take pictures. Or other things.

Arnaud Demare takes a comfort break during the Tour de France (2014)
Source: BleacherReport.com

In Northern Cambria at Mile 55, I stopped at the home of Don & Nancy Lowmaster for a needed water break. The sun had come out, it was warming up, and I had depleted my water. Nancy refilled my bottles with ice and water.

Fox Pizza, Davidsville, Pa. – My “One Hour” Photo

Although another 20 miles remained to my destination of a reunion site, these were the hardest miles for me. While the climb out of Johnstown seems somewhat steep, the road is good and the grade is constant. Once on these back country roads the climbs become stepper, the surface a little rougher, but for me, the hardest part is the grades are not consistent. It is hard to find a pedaling rhythm.

Coney Island, Johnstown, Pa. Hot dogs aren’t just for lunch anymore.

On Arcadia Road, I remembered a loose dog last year, so I sped up and went into stealth mode. I thought I was by safely. Then to my right heel was a pit bull chasing. Oh boy. But I was already 200 yards past his house and I think he was more chase than catch. At least today he was.

East Conemaugh, Pa., looking towards Johnstown

Just before Smithport someone went by and called out “Hi Barry.” I have no idea who it was.

Gobblers Knob, Punxsutawney, Pa.

After the reunion, I decided to ride on to Gobbler’s Knob and into Punxsutawney. I had never been to Gobbler’s Knob. It was another 6-7 miles with much of it on those nasty little climbs that are steep with no consistency. It was August 2 – six months after or six months before Groundhog Day. Was I early or was I late? It didn’t matter. It was a sweet ride down to Punxsutawney to end the day.

I had my dad leave the reunion and drive my car to the County Market in Punxsutawney to pick me up.

Gobblers Knob, Punxsutawney, Pa.

A check of the data shows I was not faster than four years ago although it was my second fastest time – even while not feeling so hot.

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Punxsutawney Bound

PUNXSUTAWNEY, PENNSYLVANIA

It has been two years since I was able to ride to a family reunion. Yesterday’s forecast looked promising but just as soon as I left my parents’ place in Friedens, just north of Somerset, Pa., it started to rain.

What used to be a barn is now and auto sales lot in Davidsville

Riding with a broken collarbone I was a bit skittish as I rode. I was very afraid of having a spill on the road and landing on the collarbone. So I took it easy.

I stopped once an hour to take on food. While it was a just a gel that I normally take while I’m riding, I didn’t want to ride with one hand on the bars and one hand on the gel. It also allowed me to stop and take a one-hour photo to document where I was.

On the climb coming out of Johnstown on Rte 271

I have ridden the route enough to know the turns and climbs and find it quite enjoyable. The climb out of Conemaugh/Johnstown was quite enjoyable. I found myself with a comfortable pace albeit in the rain.

Horse poop. Amish Country. Three Hour Photo on PA 271 near Duman Lake Park

When I reached Northern Cambria, I stopped at the home of my 4th cousins, Don and Nancy Lowmaster. I had never stopped here before but warned them that one day I may stop for water. This was the day. Unfortunately, I was pretty squishy. When I moved you could hear water squishing. Nancy was great about cleaning the one bottle and refilling it with ice and water.

West Branch Susquehanna River near Cherry Tree. The river is so small here one can literally throw a stone from bank to bank.

As I left the skies really opened up. I was in a real downpour for the next 10 minutes but then the faucet was turned off for the day. By the time I reached Cherry Tree the sun was out, and other than my wet clothes, you wouldn’t have known it had rained.

Normally no one has every heard of Gipsy. But four months ago in Homestead, Fla., Craig Babst was talking about Gipsy like it was his hometown.

This was my first long effort since breaking my collarbone and I felt good. I feel as though I am starting to regain my form.

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Imgrund Mountain Road

NEW BALTIMORE, PENNSYLVANIA

I came to Pennsylvania on a scouting trip for some friends preparing a charity ride across the country. Google Maps show the most direct route from Bedford to Ligonier is through New Baltimore then up Imgrund Mountain Road. The problem was I wasn’t finding anyone who knew much about the road. (Or perhaps people knew and were unwilling to talk. Imgrund Mountain Road is believed by some to be the real crash site of Flight 93 and, as the lore goes, no outsiders are supposed to know since Flight 93 has put this area on the map.)

My dad drove the upper portion for me last week and told me it was “red dog” (look it up). But he never saw the nasty lower portion. I called the supervisor for the township and when I told him we were thinking about biking up it, he recommended against driving up it.

Non-cyclists view many hills, if not all hills, as something they wouldn’t ride on a bike. I knew that I could not rely on outside intel to make the determination if this was a safe route for my friends’ ride. I had to see it, and ride it, for myself.

Imgrund Mountain Road, the lower section

I went exploring and first started up Wambaugh Hollow Road, part of the Pennsylvania Bike S Route over the mountain. I remembered on Google Maps that near the top of the climb a road connected with Imgrund Mountain Road. Except that it didn’t.

I met a local and when I asked about the road that connected to Imgrund Mountain Road he told me there may have been an old hunting trail through there but assured me the only road over the mountain started back at the base off of New Baltimore Road. And then he looked at me in disbelief when I told him I was going to ride up it. Not to be outdone, then his “friendly” dog chased me, nipping at my heels.

Imgrund Mountain Road

I descended back to New Baltimore Road and found the entrance to Imgrund Mountain Road. I saw gravel. Dirt. Rocks. And a forest floor. My immediate thought was “no way.” I almost turned back knowing the answer.

Red dog road part of Imgrund Mountain Road

But my next thought was to see just how far I could go. So I started up the road. The first half-mile was rough. By rough I mean hard. The surface was mixed stones and dirt and even some water flowing down it creating gullies, so I couldn’t get any rhythm pedaling. I was trying to find a line that would do the least damage to my wheels.

I would not recommend a car travel up this road. Big enough for one car it has a very uneven surface and some rocks protruding from the surface. It is, however, perfect for a 4×4. And an adventurous spirit.

I kept climbing, at times getting out of the saddle but always finding the rear wheel would slip with each pedal stroke. After the first half-mile, the grade lessened some but still was considerable.

Power line. Google maps recommended this route instead of Imgrund Mountain Road.

The road threw everything it had at me for two and one-half miles. Just when it seemed I was at the top I saw a curve to the left and another climb. There was heavy gravel on the curve and my GPS showed a 22% grade.

I made it and the road leveled off. The surface got better – all packed dirt or gravel and flattened out and even trended down.

House powered by wind-power generator

But the other factor was the wind. Heavy winds were blowing and it was cold. Memorial Day weekend it was 45 degrees at the start, never getting higher than the low 50s.

Purple barn. Why Pennsylvania, why?

I wanted to ride 10 miles over to Friedens and surprise my parents but felt uncomfortable controlling the bike in the winds. Instead, I headed to US 30 and rode back to New Baltimore.

Bald Knob Summit – U.S. 30

I could not recommend this ride for anyone on a road bike. Yet a huge sense of accomplishment swelled over me. I even thought of recommending the route to my friends just so I could chide them knowing I did it and some of them couldn’t. But that would be foolish. Real foolish. I’ll find them another way over the mountain.

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EPILOGUE (April 13, 2014) – I contacted Google and they have since corrected the hunting trail and the power line which showed as connecting to Imgrund Mountain Road. I still wouldn’t recommend it on a bike

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