As I recover from cancer surgery I finally began to feel strong enough to resume riding. But I didn’t ride at all in February. Until today.
Record snows throughout the month conspired to keep me off the road. Each one one of the scheduled group rides at The Bike Lane in Reston, Va. was canceled.
Yesterday I met up with some of our group in Reston for breakfast. Then today I got out for a neat little 23 mile spin. And it felt great. And I remember now why we wear bike shorts. That padded short sure would have felt good after about 10 miles. Instead I wore wind pants over underwear. Not much padding there but no big deal. I’ve been through worse. Much worse.
The temperature was 38 degrees and windy. I was struggling the first 6-7 miles and couldn’t quite figure out why. I began to curse those hours indoor on the trainer as not helping one bit. And then I turned to the east and my speed picked up, way up, and the winds I had been listening to for 40 minutes suddenly became still. I had been fighting a strong headwind and then picked up a strong tailwind. I love tail winds.
In the afternoon I drove to Charles Town, WV. As I came to a light on Rte 7 between Hamilton and Waterford a group of cyclists approached from the opposite direction. The Evo boys (Evolution Cycling). I had ridden with them last year this time when things were different. I can’t imagine anyone recognized me in the van but all waved as they passed. Maybe they saw the Share the Ride license plate on the van or, more likely, were grateful that I didn’t try to muscle my way past them.
Rockpl – Rockpile – The nickname for Mount Washington, N.H.
Total mileage for the month: 23 miles. Yuck! March will be better. I am hoping to do a repeat of the Hills of Ellicott City next Sunday and have mapped out a ‘Toona Metric Century for April 3 in which 6-7 of us are going to Altoona, Pa. for the day. Sixty miles of climbing and descending and lunch at Panera at 2:00 p.m. Can’t wait!
It has been a long time since I have really been on a bike. About four weeks after cancer surgery I tried the bike but went one block and had to abandon. The sutures were in my lower abdomen and caused tremendous pain when I was bent over. But one week later I tried it again and went about half a mile.
As I began the long road back I soon realized that biking was one activity that I could do. The sitting was excellent for me and the positioning was comfortable. So I set off to ride on Friday, December 19. It was cold — 28° (-2.2℃) — and I only went eight miles but it felt good. But it was cold. I forgot how to dress for cold weather riding.
The next day we were buried under 18″ of snow and all outdoor riding was grounded for a while. Conflicts and weather kept me from riding until today.
In a way it was nothing to brag about but today’s ride was out of the South Run Rec Center along the Fairfax County Parkway down to Occoquan. The total distance was 27.2 miles. The group was supposed to be at a C pace and was.
Still, save for the one eight-mile jaunt, I have done no riding since November 8. So I settled in just determined to make the distance.
It soon became apparent that I would move to the front and be a leader. And it really became obvious when we left Occoquan. The hill up Rte 123 is probably 8% grade for about half a mile. Maybe longer.
As the group started up the hill I put in a high cadence and flew up the hill. I left the entire group struggling behind. I’m not a great climber — just determined — but one must figure if you can be in the middle of the pack at Mount Washington that you can climb okay. Plus, I was probably the youngest in the group.
But the more I rode the stronger I felt. Eventually, I was off the front by myself. And it felt good. The 27 miles are a start on the long road back.
The jersey one wears on a club ride can make all the difference in the world. My favorite jersey is my Amgen Tour of California Breakaway From Cancer jersey. But it brings a different look or reaction from other riders than do some of my other jerseys.
I have a jersey from Newton’s Revenge, the July version of the bicycle race up Mount Washington. But few cyclists know of Newton’s Revenge and only astute riders figure out what that jersey is from. But not so the jersey from the Mount Washington Auto Road Bicycle Hillclimb (MWARBH). It is emblazoned with the words Mount Washington.
So, I can summarize the difference between the jerseys as to what other riders see. First the Breakaway From Cancer jersey:
“Ooo. I wonder what that jersey means? Oh, I think that rider has cancer. I better keep away from him. I certainly don’t want to ask. That would be rude. Poor guy, he’s already losing the hair on his legs. Heck, I can take him!”
The Mount Washington Auto Road Bicycle Hillclimb jersey:
“Hey, that guy has a Mount Washington jersey. He must be strong. And looks, he shaves his leg too. I don’t think I can stay with him.”
Budos, France – The MWARBH jersey
And that’s it. Lots of people want to ask me about Mount Washington. No one wants to ask me about cancer.
Today’s ride was a bit strange. A “CC” ride, many of the 50-60 riders were older (you know, my age) or packing on a few extra pounds. From the start, I was out in front, and as usual with these group rides, I had no cue sheet. I sat in and followed a Clydesdale* for a while until it was just the two of us.
I told him I would love to share the work at the front but he’d have to help me with the turns (directions). We stayed together for 2-3 more miles until we came to a short but steep climb. I tore right up the hill and dropped him. I was content to slow at the top and wait but there was a nice descent coming up so I bombed it and missed the turn at the bottom. Oh well.
He told me that climbing wasn’t his specialty. I told him it wasn’t my specialty either but that I enjoy it the most.
Breakaway From Cancer jersey
Eventually, after another wrong turn and doubling back, 10 of us came together and for those who had cue sheets, all had problems determining which way to go. So we made it up.
I took my turns pulling the group and when I let someone move to the front I stayed on their wheel. At Airmont, the psychological games began even though this was a ride and not a race.
Six of us started together on the rollers of Snickersville Turnpike. After the first climb, there were two of us as there would be for the next 11 miles. At times I thought the hairy-legged monster might get the best of me but the last big climb on Snickersville I blew past him. I did wait at the top in part because I had no clue as to where I was going.
We took turns pulling and there were times that I wanted to say “go ahead, you’re stronger today.” And he was probably thinking “oh my God, I’m trying to stay with a guy who just biked up Mount Washington.”
We had talked and I knew at Middleburg to turn and it would be a straight run-in back to The Plains. I didn’t know how far it was though. We made the turn and my companion just blew up. He was still pedaling but just slowed to a crawl. I kept going. In fact, I lifted the pace.
I think after a few hundred yards he gave up trying to bridge back to me. I was feeling good and at each hill, and there were lots of them, I lifted the pace and hammered it. I only looked back once.
I was a little worried that the other four riders would catch the guy I dropped and they would organize a “chase” — not that this was a race. But one thing about today’s group — they wouldn’t know how to chase. It works if everyone is willing to go to the front and take turns doing the work but with this group, almost everyone wanted to sit in where they could use 30% less energy than by taking pulls. Not today.
I hammered the last eight miles solo, never looked back, and arrived 3-4 minutes ahead of the nearest riders.
If I had worn my Breakaway From Cancer jersey they would have stayed with me.
*A Clydesdale is a heaver rider, generally 190 lbs or more
When I rode the BlueRidger in April it was 95°. Today it was in the high 60s. Global warming indeed. The only difference was the direction. In April we rode in a clockwise direction, riding up Naked Mountain and then Mount Weather before descending to Bluemont and our planned rest stop.
Today it was counterclockwise. This is the BlueRidger Proper. The difference in the two routes is less the climbing but more the safety factor. If we ride in clockwise we have the harder way up Naked Mountain but the easier climb up Mount Weather. But it’s not just a matter of pick your poison because counter-clockwise is harder up Mount Weather but easier up Naked Mountain.
At Paris, Virginia, there is a half-mile stretch on U.S. 50 which can be heavily traveled. There are no shoulders here. If we do the clockwise direction, we are on the road climbing at 10 mph or so. If we do the “proper,” then we come off Mount Weather at Ashby’s Gap and have a one-half mile downhill in which one can easily maintain 40 mph on a road signed at 45 mph. IMHO, it is much safer to ride the proper direction just for this section.
Today’s ride was advertised as a B ride and was the best ride on the list that I could find. I counted 28 riders at the start and I started in the first third. Within the first five miles there were just five of us at the front setting a pretty good pace. “A” riders I figured. Probably the best ride they could find too.
I took my turns at the front and had the misfortune of doing a “pull” on an incline. When I dropped off I could not match the pace of the group and I was toast. I rode solo but not for long. I was caught by two other riders and the three of us stayed together for a while until we came to another long incline.
Didn’t anyone know it was my birthday and they were supposed to be nice to me? I wanted to do a birthday ride of at least one mile per year and this one worked. After 3-4 miles I got dropped again and thought I’m OK watching them 100 yards up the road. After a mile or two of this nonsense, I was surprised by a group of six riders passing me.
Funny, riding solo I didn’t think I could ride any faster but it was easy latching on to the rear of their group and riding faster. Some of it is physics — it is easier to draft behind other riders but some of it’s just mental too — having a pacer in front. Our group caught my other two up front and we rode together to Bluemont to our rest stop.
Without measuring it I would have told you that we were pulling a 1% grade the entire way but the stats say otherwise. For the 23.5 miles to the General Store, it is rolling but there is no real elevation gain or loss. We averaged 18.2 mph, That’s the advantage of staying in a group.
After a 15-20 minute rest, while other riders straggled in, a group of 14-15 of us all departed for the climb out of Bluemont up to Mount Weather. I passed those who I was going to pass on the climb out of Bluemont, which was maybe half the group. Then I settled into my own pace. I hate that. My own pace had me between groups of riders. I couldn’t catch the riders upfront and I was too stubborn to allow myself to be caught by those behind me. Mostly it’s the fear of being caught and then not being able to stay with the new group.
The summit of Mount Weather is rolling with some additional climbs and some descents before reaching the two-mile descent to Ashby’s Gap and U.S. Rte 50. I could see the riders behind me about 300-400 meters but I was staying out in front. And I did. By the time I got to Naked Mountain I saw but one rider behind me. And I wasn’t going to let him catch me.
After I came off the mountain I did sit up and wait for him. Part of it was being nice but part of it was I was first to a stop sign and there was traffic on the road. I had to wait for him. It was raining and we were soaked. We stayed together for all but the final two miles. I have to rethink drafting in the rain. All it did was get me a face full of water when I sat behind his wheel.
At times I thought he should go on without me as I was sure he was stronger after 50 miles in the saddle. But when we turned back on Rte 55 with four miles to go I set a pace that dropped him. Oops. My bad. But I had to. I could see about 100 yards behind him was a group coming on and I didn’t want to get caught by them.
So I opened a gap that kept growing. But the chasers were organized and overtook my friend and eventually overtook me too. Had they caught me on a flat I could have integrated with them but they were flying up a grade when they passed. I had nothing left to join them.
I was 20 seconds behind them to the lot and appeared to be the seventh rider returning. It is not a race but when you do well you pretend that it is. It was a pretty good finish.
On the day I averaged two mph faster than in April. I can think of three reasons none of which I will claim that I am in better shape. I’m not. (1) It was 95° in April. (2) For the first part of the ride today I was in with a group that ramped up the speed whereas in April I basically was a group of one. (3) In April I dropped back and rode the final 23 miles with another rider who was struggling due to the heat.
A final note: According to the ride table the “A” rides are 16-18 mph on Hilly Terrain. My final average was 15.9 — 0.1 away from an A pace. I can dream. Happy Birthday to Me!
This would be a special day — a day I needed on the bike. A 70-mile ride from Woodbridge, Virginia to Charles Town, West Virginia to see my wonderful daughters, Bethany, and Ashley, along with my sons-in-law and grandson.
As I left the house the clouds were very dark with strong winds that would be in my face for all 70 miles. And I am thinking this is a metaphor for my life. I am headed into dark storm clouds. Would the clouds give way to blue skies or would thunder and lightning be in store?
I know my fitness level isn’t where I need it so I decided to take my time. As much as I like to push it on the downhills I decided that I would coast down most hills instead of hammering it. I would enjoy those “whew-hoo” moments. My cadence would show that too as I averaged a lot of zeroes with my 90-100 rpm.
I go the shortest route I know. It also has the least amount of traffic but some roads are still dangerous. I go out through Manassas but Sudley Road past the Manassas Battlefield is a tight squeeze. Gum Springs Road to Braddock Road is okay but Braddock Road is a dirt road in poor shape for about three miles. I ride on U.S. 15 and 50 for a combined four dangerous miles.
After leaving Rte 50, Snickersville Turnpike is a beautiful rolling country road that leads to Airmont and a turn towards Round Hill.
At Airmont, one can see the Blue Ridge Mountains. I take satisfaction looking as far as I can see and knowing that I have crossed all the major road crossings over these summits. Straight ahead is Snickers Gap (Rte 7) and Mount Weather. Further south is Clarks Gap (US Rte 50). To the north is Harpers Ferry and the climb out of the Potomac River Valley. Today’s route connects with a shoulderless Rte 9 over Keyes’ Gap.
I made one rest stop — on Braddock Road where I consumed two energy bars. And that was it. I also consumed one energy bar while on the bike as well as one pack of Sport Beans. When I reached Rte 9 just west of Hillsboro I stopped long enough to down a packet of Hammer Gel.
Eventually, blue skies came out but those gave way to dark rain clouds. Going up Keyes’ Gap I was in a mist which I didn’t mind. It helped me cool off while making it easier to breathe. (There is more oxygen in the air when it is raining.)
The ride was difficult for me. Always a headwind, at times there were wind gusts of 30 mph and no one blocking the wind. These rides are so much easier when others share the lead.
The clouds indeed were dark but nothing bad came of them. Hopefully, that too is a metaphor for my life.
It was two weeks ago I broke my wrist in a crash. On Monday after the crash, I got fitted in my waterproof cast. It was waterproof only in the fact that it could get wet.
On Thursday I refereed a high school boys varsity district championship match at Brentsville High School. When I returned home and showered I started to get the chills. The night was awful. I was running a high fever and the pain in my hand was almost unbearable.
On Friday I went back to Dr. Hanna who cut off the cast fearing infection in the wound in my hand which was under the cast. I would deal with the fever until Wednesday. I was drained once the fever broke. I was also on antibiotics to kill the infection if it was biological.
In hindsight, the pain was probably caused by sweat inside the cast from the game which seeped into the open wound. It was very painful and probably unrelated to the fever.
Yesterday, Friday, I returned to the doctor with the expectation of being recast. Instead, Dr. Hanna looked at the wound on my hand and examined my wrist. He was reluctant to cast over the still-open wound on my hand and decided to leave my wrist in a removable splint so that the wound will continue to heal.
The next course of action is an X-ray in another week and then, “if things look good,” remain in the splint for six weeks.
Of course, this allowed me the opportunity to ride with The Bike Lane group in Reston. But I wasn’t ever real comfortable. I normally enjoy riding in the pack but not today. One wrong move by another rider and I could go down. And if I went down on the wrist it could break all the way through. So I ended up keeping contact but a safe distance.
The other concession I made was to stay in the saddle for the entire 28-mile ride. I envied my friends as they popped out of the saddle for an extra burst on the steep climbs. But I did not want to stand and put weight on my wrist. I may have given up a little on the climbs and I didn’t bomb the descents but it was nice to ride again. Ultimately, I am hopeful that forcing myself to stay in the saddle, one gets out because it’s easier, I will become a stronger rider.
Seven point six miles is the distance up the Mount Washington Auto Road. It is also the distance that I rode today, three days after my bike crash which resulted in a broken wrist.
Perhaps there is some symbolism here. Maybe it’s a “sign” but I’m not sure I believe in signs. I don’t even know how to spell symbolism.
I crashed three days ago more figuratively than literally. A broken wrist and six weeks off the bike off would kill my fitness and preparation for the Mount Washington Climb. Information in the emergency room was hard to come by. I was told simply what I pretty much knew – I broke my wrist.
There was a report slipped in with my X-rays but I dropped those at my former* orthopedic surgeon’s office on Friday without reading it. I should have read it.
That hurt
Today was the day to be fitted for a cast. I was not nearly as depressed going into today as I was on Friday. On Friday I believed all my riding had ended. But over the weekend I decided I could, at a minimum, ride a trainer for the next six weeks although I would miss the long training rides with Potomac Pedalers. I would have to be careful and always remain seated because I couldn’t stand and put weight on my wrist.
Short Cast
But doing training work while seated would be better training than out of the saddle. This may turn out okay after all. Don’t get me wrong, I’d much rather not have a broken wrist but I will make the best of it.
Here is my report: Faint transverse radiolucent line in the distal epiphysis of the radius along the lateral margin suggests undisplaced fracture. The doctor went with a short cast over the forearm, waterproof (cool!), and for four weeks not six, at my urging. I’ll have another X-ray in four weeks and will probably go to hard brace for two weeks after that.
I’m going to make 7.6 miles.
*I wrote about my former orthopedic surgeon. Here’s why.
Rather than go straight to the E.R. on Friday I thought of my surgeon who has X-ray equipment in his office. Thinking I would cut out the middledoc, I went to his office and asked if he could see me. I was told he couldn’t which was partially expected.
Being a foot and knee patient since 1991, I was hoping not to be treated as some walk-in but with some deference to my history there. The receptionist told me to wait and she would check. She checked, presumably with the doctor but who knows? Come back to see us after the E.R.
In the E.R. a nurse asked if I had an orthopedic surgeon. Almost without listening to my answer (yes) she then offered her opinion, “the only thing I would suggest is not to go to [fill in former doctor’s name here].” I told her that was my doctor but I would respect her opinion.
After two hours in the E.R. (not bad for an E.R. visit) I left with my X-rays and drove to Dr. Former’s office. When I tried to make an appointment for Monday I was told the earliest would be Thursday. Frustrated and hurting, I left my X-rays at the office and left.
Potomac Hospital had an orthopedic doctor, Joseph Hannah, on duty so I found his number and called the office. They would work me in on Monday.
Monday came and I went to Dr. Former’s office to pick up my X-ray. They wanted to know if I had made an appointment to pick up my X-rays. Arrrg. Fifteen minutes later I was out of there to see Dr. Hannah. And he’s good.
I am bummed right now. Everything I have done since July 12, 2008, was to prepare myself for Newton’s Revenge* on July 11, 2009. A 42-mile Bike to Work Day ride may have ended that today when I crashed and broke at least my wrist. Even if the cast is off in time my fitness will be shot.
I made it up the “Rockpile” last year, albeit badly, and Mary Power, the Mount Washington Auto Road Events Director told me it gets in your blood. And it does.
I started walking the 12 floors each morning to my office rather than riding the elevator. I was committed to dropping 12 pounds to a more favorable climbing weight of 160. And I was down to 164 – the lowest of my adult life.
Broken Wrist
I hadn’t yet made the changes to the front ring but was planning to drop it to a serious climbing gear of 24 teeth. I bought a set of lighter wheels perfect for climbing. Last year I was one of the few riders who rode the race in a standard factory setup with no gear modifications. This year was going to be different. It had to be different.
I started a training program designed to increase my power. And after the first week of workouts, it may have been working. I noticed that this morning I averaged 20 mph to Occoquan over 6.5 miles. I wondered if I was already getting a benefit.
In the past three weekends, I rode the Blue Ridge Ramble, Blue Knob Ski Resort, and a classic ride from Myersville, Md. to Pennsylvania and back, Happy Happy Pain Pain. I was feeling good.
And I was feeling great today.
Road bikes are designed for the road. And roads are usually straight with gradual curves and grades, Mount Washington being an exception. Not so much these bike paths. Unfortunately, bike paths are often squeezed into spaces where roads don’t fit. They fly up and over existing roadways or tunnel under highways. They can have steeper than normal grades and sharper turns.
I had followed the Washington & Old Dominion (W&OD) trail to the Custis Trail. The Custis Trail goes through Rosslyn in Arlington Co. then descends down to the Mount Vernon Trail. At this point I was 38 miles into my Bike To Work Day ride, I came upon this descent and let the bike roll. I was going 20 mph when I saw a sharp turn to the left. Overnight rains had left a gooey mess of mud and moss mixed in with some sand and gravel.
I used my rear brake to slow the bike for the curve ahead but the tire slid in the muck. I released the brake and leaned and steered the bike through the turn. My momentum took the bike through the curve and the wheels slipped out from under me.
I hit the asphalt real hard and went sliding across it until I came to a stop. I could feel road rash on my left thigh and could see it on my leg. One thing to be thankful for: shaved legs. Without hair ripping out more skin, the damage to my leg was relatively minor in comparison to the rest of my body.
I unclipped and saw the blood on my hand and could feel that my wrist hurt. A couple of riders came by and asked if I was hurt. I told them I was. They kept going.
I brushed myself off, poured water on my hand and legs to get most of the dirt off, then rode four more miles to work. More than half the time I held my arm like a broken wing and rode with one hand. It hurt to put the injured hand on the handlebars.
At work, I got some assistance in the Fitness Center in taking off my jersey and in cleaning up. I then went to my office (via elevator — this was the first day I didn’t take the stairs). I worked for about 15 minutes before deciding the emergency room visit was necessary.
Now I face the question of what’s next. Six weeks in a cast will take me to June 30. If I am off the bike until then there is no way I will have the fitness or climbing legs to make Mount Washington. I am really bummed right now.
Monday I go for a hard cast. I haven’t been told how serious the break is or if there is more than one. If I can ride a trainer during this time it won’t be the same as being on the road but there’s still a chance. My only chance now is to be able to ride a trainer…
Visiting Ashley in Ranson, West Virginia, I decided to head out for a ride along the basic route of the South Mountain Loop, a 37-mile route for hybrids or mountain bikes, which originates in Brunswick, Maryland. Only one problem presented itself: I rode the route just once six years ago and would attempt to ride it from memory. I did pretty well, only missing one turn which I would do differently.
The day was cold and windy. Winds were constant at 20-30 mph with higher gusts. Temperatures were in the mid-30s to start and only climbed to near 50º (10º C) by the end of the ride. Everywhere there was a headwind. I don’t know how this could be but it was.
Instead of starting in Brunswick, I started in Ranson and followed US 340. When I crossed the Shenandoah River just upriver from Harpers Ferry, I turned on Chestnut Hill Road. From 340, Chestnut Hill Road looks almost impossible to drive up and does look impossible to bike up. But on a bike is where magic happens.
I turned the corner and kept climbing higher and higher. The GPS showed 12% then 14% then 18%. When it “leveled” off to 4% I decided to turn around and go back to the route I had planned. I descended at 45 mph. I could have gone faster but there was a stop sign, heavy traffic, a guard rail, and the Potomac River at the bottom.
I followed US 340 into and out of Virginia and across the Potomac River into Maryland. I passed beautiful farmland to Burkittsville, the location of the horror movie, The Blair Witch Project. It’s a lovely little village and I can’t say I saw any witches. But who really knows for sure? They don’t all look like Elphaba.
Welcome to Burkittsville
Out of Burkittsville, I climbed a ridge road along South Mountain before being dropped back into the valley then climbing up Reno Monument Road. At the base of Reno Monument Road is a large, slightly unkempt house on the left. You know, the kind where a huge dog is lurking ready to attack. Outriding dogs can present their own adrenaline rush but I’m not going to out pedal a dog while going up a 20% hill.
My dogdar (that’s like radar to detect dogs) was on full alert mainly because when I rode this six years ago I was chased by a big dog at this house. Yes – you remember those things.
I was quietly pedaling, not shifting gears, and generally trying to avoid disturbing any creatures who may live there. And then I saw him. A huge dog but I’m not sure of his breed.
And he saw me. Or she saw me. I didn’t want to get close enough to check.
The dog came flying across the yard and I dismounted and started being really nice. There was no way I was going to flee and kick in the dog’s chase mentality. I was on the right side of the road and the dog was to the left. I hoped that he wouldn’t come across the road at me. I walked a little saying stupid things he couldn’t understand like “nice puppy.” This completely killed my average speed for the day too. I should have paused the Garmin.
My break came when just as the dog was coming out of his yard a car came down the hill and almost hit it. Brakes squealed, the driver stopped and I used the car as a shield to sneak away.
Reno Hill kicked up to 20% but it was a relatively short climb. At the summit, there are some Civil War markers and a “Private Road” sign which invited me to ride.
Burkittsville, Md.
I turned left and was riding the very summit of South Mountain. A one-lane paved road with no traffic was great. I wondered where the road would end. I thought it was a U.S. Park Service one-lane road which perhaps made a loop. The grade was great for climbing. A lot of 12% with even higher numbers as well. After two miles I came to a dead end. Some government installation. Some secret government installation. I smiled for the cameras and turned around.
Back to the main road, I descended into the valley on the east side of the mountain. I missed the road that would have taken me to Chestnut Ridge and down to Harpers Ferry. But Rte 67 has a very wide shoulder and was a nice run into Brunswick.
As I approached Brunswick I saw the last road on the right and thought it would be fun to take it to Harpers Ferry if that’s where it went. It didn’t. It was a heck of a climb and ultimately I realized I was climbing for no reason that the road would not cross the mountain. I was right. I made a loop right back to Rte 67. Bonus miles.
I was not prepared for the distance with the climbing on this day. Or the wind. I climbed almost 6,000 vertical feet. Other than a small packet of Sport Beans (by Jelly Belly), I had no food and I ran out of water. I bonked and the thought of climbing back out of the river valley was too much. I pulled out my cell phone but no one answered my distress call.
My emergency funds consisted of two dollars in my saddlebag and were used to purchase a Snickers bar at the Exxon Station at the base of Harpers Ferry Road. Hunger solved. I made the 2-mile climb up the US 340 past Harpers Ferry to the plateau with ease.
The stats don’t show the entire trip because I reset the Garmin nine miles into the ride so I rode close to 66 miles. It was a good day but very tiring.
