West Virginia - peaceonabike

August 17, 2025September 16, 2025

Panhandle Trail

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.

Panhandle Trail – state line between WV and PA. Washington Co., Pa is on the right; Brooke Co., WV is to the left.

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.

State line marker. If you know where to look … The Pandhandle Trail followed the Pittsburgh, Cincinnati, Chicago, and St. Louis Railroad (PCC & StL), a railroad created in the 1860s.

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).

Montour Trail crosses the Panhandle Trail

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.

Burggestown on the return trip. The sky was turning dark.

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

___
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.

September 26, 2021January 25, 2024

Alpine Loop Gran Fondo

HARRISONBURG, VIRGINIA

I did not have a good feeling about this weekend. Tires, like most bike parts, have been in short supply since last year. It caught up to me on Monday when I had a flat on my front wheel.

I bought replacement Schwalbe tires and installed them on Thursday. On Friday I rode to Fosters in Manassas. While I was eating the rear tire went PFFFFFFT. That was strange for a new tire but I pulled out my repair kit, put in a new tube, and was ready to roll.

The tire held well despite only 40 psi. I stopped at home, brought the pressure up to 90 psi, then finished my ride. After I put the bike back the rear tire went PFFFFFFT. I changed the tire and one hour later the third new tube went PFFFFFFT. Well, it was time to learn my lesson. I inspected the wheel and saw there was a hole in the rim tape. It was 7:00 p.m. on Friday and no place for repair. I would travel to Harrisonburg with a wheel needing repair.

James Madison University, Harrisonburg, Va.

Yesterday I went Rocktown Bicycles in Harrisonburg. This is a very nice shop and Sean greeted me. I told him what I needed and in 10 minutes I was out the door and ready to roll.

Maybe move the post two feet? Harrisonburg, Va.

As the top fundraiser for the Prostate Cancer Awareness Project, I was invited on a private ride at noon with Jeremiah Bishop. But my phone decided to bring in every single saved email and put it in my phone’s inbox. With thousands of emails, I could not find the one about the ride info. I tried unsuccessfully to contact someone about the ride.

My alternative was that I went to Brothers Craft Brewing and then the Hotel Madison, two locations we had used in the past. No ride. Since registration was at 2:00 p.m. and I decided to ride around town. And that was OK because I did not need a 30-mile ride before the Alpine Loop Gran Fondo.

Robert Hess and Barry Sherry line up first for the roll out

I stayed in town at Tru by Hilton. Who uses alarm clocks? Well, the guest before me, that’s who. At 5:00 a.m. the alarm went off. I was not ready to get up. And I didn’t know how to turn off the alarm. I unplugged the clock and started my day with one less hour of sleep than planned.

The starting line – my vest was in my back pocket for the photo

I drove to the venue after thinking I would ride there. But U.S. Rte 11 looked sketchy (curb to curb, no shoulder). Once I arrived I got my timing chip and then heard my name being announced as the top fundraiser. I went to the mic and told my “secret” to raising money. “You have to ASK people.”

The choice today was 78 or 100 miles. These are the same routes except for the addition of a 22-mile loop. At the start I wasn’t “feeling” 100 miles. I got my bottles ready, grabbed some food, and went to the starting area. It was 48º. I put on a vest and arm warmers.

We rolled out of town. Once we turned on Switchboard Road I let people pass me. The road is crowded and it’s tight. I just don’t trust the big group. And I had a bigger goal. At 10 miles into the ride I would “celebrate” 1,000 consecutive days of riding at least 10 miles. I didn’t want to be taken down in a crash which almost happened beside me when a rider clunked his gears, came to a start, and was almost rear-ended.

Also, further back was Robert Hess. I pulled over to wait for him. I didn’t see him so I continued. But when we came to At Whitmore Shop Road I waited for him to arrive. We chatted for a few minutes and then he went left and I went right. I already let the main group gain 4-5 minutes on me.

I told Ashley and Bryan they could expect me to roll by at 9:00 a.m. And at 9:00, I saw them up ahead on a pull-off area just before George Washington National Forest. They had signs cheering me on. I stopped for about five minutes, gave the girls a hug, and told them I would see them at the top.

I hit the climb which is a timed KOM segment. After four or five minutes I looked at my Wahoo computer. I was only eight seconds behind my all-time best which was 10 years ago. I had no idea.

Another minute or so and I was only down six seconds. I started to think that maybe I could get a PR. I was 10-12 minutes in when I saw I was ahead by two seconds. And I was catching people. I was feeling good. Every previous attempt I was trying to count the distance to the top. Today I didn’t even notice. Everyone up the road was just a new target to reel in.

Volunteer at the rest stop in Brandywine, WV

In all, I caught and passed 11 people on the climb and did not get passed by anyone. Of course, I was almost dead last when I started so who was left to pass me? I was up 1:02 when I reached the top. A PR! I was very excited.

Rest stop at Sugar Grove, WV. Rocktown Bicycles provided the bike support.

At the top, the girls were waiting for me. My day was made. No matter what else happened I PR’d Shenandoah Mountain and I saw the girls on course. It would be a great day. When they told me that they would be in town in the afternoon I decided I would do the 78-mile ride so they could see me finish.

I bombed the descent on Rte 33 to Brandywine. I made it over to the rest stop which is at the base of the climb up Reddish Knob. After a short break and a small can of Coke, the climb began. I don’t know what happened but almost immediately I was 40 seconds behind my best time. But the time began to come down. And I was catching and passing people. The Live Tracking on my Wahoo stopped working and I would have to wait to find out if I set another PR. (I did.)

I passed two girls from the Miller School of Albermarle. I had been chatting with them at the rest stop and they were pulled over. I really admire these young kids. Since they weren’t in immediate distress I continued on but decided when I reached the top I would turn around and go back to shepherd them up the climb. I passed the KOM finish but realized it was about a half-mile short of the Strava segment. So I had to keep going to the end when I could turn around. In all, I passed 10 riders on this climb. I was passed by no one.

Going back down I met the girls then turned around. One of them had to stop to take on a gel. But other than that they were riding well. When we reached the summit we started down Reddish Knob. I warned them the pavement was crap but they did not heed the warning. They flew! At first, they gapped me but I eventually caught on. They were taking too many risks for my liking as I hung on.

As the road started to level out, we slowed down and just chatted. As we left the steeper part of the mountain which was mostly traffic-free, I went to the front and they stayed on my wheel until we reached the next rest stop together. They told me they were riding the 78-mile route.

Actually, I was feeling good enough now to ride the 100 but had the granddaughters waiting for me in town. I texted them that I would finish between 2:30 and 2:35.

In the valley I saw lots of Amish, at one point maybe more than 30 buggies pulled by horses. I passed one buggy, announcing my presence as loud as I could so I did not spook the horse. I waved at very single one that passed me in the opposite direction and almost all waved back – and smiled too. The time was 1:45 and they appeared to all be headed to a 2:00 gathering.

Most surprising to me was a young Amish man passing me in the opposite direction. I waved but he couldn’t wave back as he had one hand on his handlebars and one hand holding a cell phone to his ear. It appeared to be a flip phone, not a smart phone.

The last timed climb was Mole Hill. I wasn’t sure I would have anything left but saw that I got a PR on it too. And there were three more segments on the way back into town. I PR’d them all.

At 2:32 p.m. I came to the finish. The grandkids were waiting. I was introduced to the crowd but without anything that I had written on my application. We took a family photo and I hung out for a while.

After they left I checked Strava. PRs on the three timed climbs and all three I was in the Top Ten Age Group. Then I checked to see if there were any times better than mine in that list for today. And there was one. I found a guy who beat me by 2:00 on Shenandoah; 1:00 on Reddish, and I beat him by a minute on Mole Hill. So he got me by 2:00 total and I knew I was not the KOM for my age group. But I did finish second in my age group in the climb. And this year a sprint was added. I finished second there too. Maybe there were only two of us.

But I was happy. My best times were 10 years ago and who would have thought I could PR at my age? I am not a climber and this improvement was very satisfying. I accept that there are better climbers. I had a great day on the bike and a better one off the bike with my granddaughters.

Everyone (that knew the Tour de France) loved this sign Ashley carried

Note: At the beginning, I was right behind a safety bump and was not clipped in to start. I awkwardly pushed off with my feet losing a couple of places and forgetting to start my Wahoo. This file is missing the first 0.4 miles.

September 30, 2018September 1, 2021

Alpine Loop Gran Fondo

HARRISONBURG, VIRGINIA

I need to rethink the sleepover component of this event. I stayed at home and got up at 4:30 a.m. to drive to Harrisonburg. Four hours of sleep is not enough.

I arrived at 7:20 a.m. thinking I had plenty of time. I did not. Registration was slower than expected (efficient but there were a lot of people checking in at 7:30 a.m.). Each time I was ready to roll out from the car I seemed to be missing something. Glasses. A spare rear light. Arm warmers.

We were given timing chips to attach to the fork. I took mine to the start then wrapped it around the fork. Around the fork and a spoke. I didn’t notice. There was two minutes before the start. A rider next to me said, “Do you know you have that wrapped around a spoke?” Damn. I had nail clippers to trim the zip ties and cut them off. I simply put the guy in my pocket and off we went through downtown Harrisonburg.

South Fork South Branch Potomac River (WV)

We circled the block then as the group was headed out of town I went back to start and picked up two new zip ties. I then headed through town and saw the tail of the group up the road. I quickly made my way to the end of the group and found Robert Hess. Once I caught Robert we pedaled a little faster and we moved up through the group.

I caught a woman wearing a Spokes of Hope cycling jacket. I told her my other kit was Spokes of Hope and asked her what she knew about Spokes of Hope. She told me the jacket belonged to her father-in-law and “we’re from Pittsburgh.” I asked her if her father-in-law was Dave Mitchell. She was blown away that I knew, or knew of, her father-in-law. We stopped for a photo before the routes would split.

Robert and I rode ahead to the split (Mile 8) where he would turn left (35 miles route) and I would turn right (100 miles route). Because I had to ride to catch the back of the group I was pretty certain I was the last on the road headed to the century route. I wondered if I would catch anyone.

I did catch a few riders before U.S. 33 and the climb over the mountain. I still had not stopped to properly attach my timing chip and decided it wasn’t worth it.* I am still recovering fitness from my knee replacement surgery and I wasn’t going for any KOM (King of the Mountain) segments. Still, I moved the chip from my jersey pocket to the seam in my shorts just above the knee. Maybe it would work.

Looking back at the climb out of Virginia

The descent off the mountain was fast. I made up for my slow ride up with a quick descent. Still, I felt I was more cautious than I had been before May 16. The risk/reward of a couple extra MPH wasn’t worth it.

My shoe didn’t feel right and at the second rest stop, also the base of the Reddish Knob, Kelly, from Rocktown BIcycles in Harrisonburg, fixed my cleat the best she could. She also took a photo of me going up the 18% climb.

As I pulled out of the rest stop, I was side by side with a 15 year old, Ben, from Winchester. He asked me about the climb, having been told it’s not has hard as the climb we did on U.S. 33. I told him it was much harder. Someone lied to him.

Kelly from Rocktown Bicycles and a young volunteer

We kept talking and stayed together for much of the climb. Perhaps two-thirds of the way up I was going faster and did not want to stop. I didn’t know if he stopped or was going slower but eventually I did not see him any longer.

And I felt cramping coming on. This is where a lack of serious riding since my knee surgery was catching up to me. I shouldn’t be cramping and yet I was. When I reached the summit I looked down the road and so no one. There was another rider waiting and he asked if I knew about a scenic overlook. I did not but decided to go up a narrow access road that might lead to one. I had gone about 1/4 mile and was cramping worse. I turned around.

The descent off the mountain was sketchy, Soaked with sweat, I had nothing to clean my glasses. They were foggy and with the rough pavement, I took the descent cautiously.

Reaching the next rest stop, I had a decision to make. Head on home or do a 20-mile loop to finish the century ride. Cramping is a sign of body fatigue and I thought on a day I was cramping it would be dumb to add what was now an optional loop. If I had 40 miles to finish I would suffer but I was 20 miles from the finish and didn’t need to add the loop. Also, Ben was doing the 80 (or 75, whatever it was) and we would stay together.

At the finish, we were greeted by cheerleaders from JMU. Katie Yates, one of my referees who attends JMU, came over and joined us for a post-ride meal. A real surprise was Robert called Ben up to the podium. He had won the KOM for his age group. Since I took him over the mountains I think he owes me one of his polka dots.

After our dinner, I went to stand up. Ouch. The legs hurt. It was a hard day on the bike and without a good fitness base, I made the right decision not to finish the century. Next year!

*Perhaps not the exact measured climb but on RideWithGPS my time in the past has been 30 or 31 minutes. Yesterday it was 40 minutes. Reddish Knob I’ve done in 45 minutes, today was 1:02. I was right. It was not worth race timing.

June 24, 2012August 26, 2021

A Double Triple

CHARLES TOWN, WEST VIRGINIA

After being struck by a car I wanted to go home yesterday but ended up getting a wheel repair at the local Trek bike store in Charles Town. At no charge. That always helps.

The newly trued wheel rolled well and I was thankful for the coolness of the morning air to ride. But I also thought of the bike and remembered that a carbon fiber bike must be checked out before being ridden again after a crash. While I was thankful the local Trek store fixed my wheel I wish the mechanic would have asked to check out the bike. I was in no frame of mind to think to ask him to do that.

Trek mechanic onsite checking out the Pilot

Arriving in Berryville, I found the on-site Trek mechanic who checked out the bike and was able to reposition the shifters. He gave the bike a clean bill of health. More importantly, he gave me peace of mind.

Since the mechanic took time checking the bike, it felt as though I was the last to leave Berryville. As I rode I began to catch and pass everyone. It would be one of those days where I would pass everyone and not get passed. Period.

After making my way through the first group of riders I passed five riders stopped along the side of the road, all supervising some poor schmuck trying to fix his bike. I asked if they needed one more person to watch and they said yes. So I stopped. Poor guy had a broken chain and other than making a phone call (for SAG support), I couldn’t help, but by then all those slow, old (my age) people came rolling by so I let them pass then worked my way through them again.

When I passed a rider named Karen, she jumped on my wheel and followed me. She announced her presence and stated that I was the right speed to follow. And she did. For a while. Then she admitted I was too fast but I backed it off and we rode together and picked up some other riders as well.

At Rest Stop Number 1 in Rippon, I saw a family with young children in cycling gear. How cute. As they were getting ready to leave I talked to them. I told them I saw a family down at River Ride on the Northern Neck about five years ago who had a triple Co-Motion bike with dad and two daughters on it while the mother pulled a — “Burley Trailer,” everyone pretty much said in unison.

“That was us,” replied the mom. The family is from Front Royal, Virginia.

My memory of that day on the Northern Neck was seeing this extremely cute family pull in at the end of the ride. The youngest girl was sound asleep — head over folded arms on the handlebars — with her feet clipped into the pedals going in circles.

The oldest daughter said “yep, that was Kylie. She can do that”*

But now there were six. They’ve added to their cycling family. Three on dad’s bike and three on mom’s. How very cute. A double triple.

They left the rest stop before I did and although I caught them on Kabletown Road, I didn’t see them the rest of the day. Hopefully I will see them again.

The route would zigzag around Charles Town on some of the roads I had ridden down to Berryville to the start. I was almost getting dizzy going in a circle. Like yesterday, my cousin, Kay Walborn, started earlier than I could, and from Berryville.

Although this was billed as a recreational touring ride and not a place for pace lines, occasional lines formed and it was fun riding just a little faster with other people. Or a lot faster than other people. I had missed out on that yesterday except for the first 10 miles or so when I had jumped in with a group of four.

But today I rode with a woman and her dad for a while, and also with Paul from Allentown, Pa., plus Karen from Ashville, N.C. At the lunch stop around Mile 48 (my mile 68) I had caught my cousin, Kay Walborn, and we then rode together the optional 20-mile loop. Near the end of the ride, I was ahead of Kay and her friend, Wanda, on Job Corps Road, when I was left shaken.

While descending a hill, I was doing about 30 mph and was hugging the white line at the edge of the road. There was no shoulder. Then I heard it. A large diesel pickup truck was barreling down on me and wanting to pass. But there was an oncoming car and hardly room for the three of us. He gunned it.

I was over as far as I could get and the truck passed within inches. Kay told me that the truck missed my head by two inches. What is it? Two accidents in two days?

When we finished I had 90 miles so it was easy to get 100 before going back to Bethany’s.

Two Days. Two Centuries.

___
*I’m not sure of the daughter’s name – but let’s go with Kylie.

June 23, 2012August 26, 2021

Struck by a Car

The day started with promise. Attending Bike Virginia, I rode 20 miles from Charles Town to the event’s registration in Berryville, Va.

Once on the road, I reset my odometer so as not to remind myself that I had ridden 20 miles farther than anyone else. And it worked.

I was surprised that at a park and swimming pool rest stop at Mile 80 near Winchester I ran into my friend Vince Amodeo. I had been chasing my cousin, Kay Walborn, for these 80 miles and had given up finding her.

I said goodbye to Vince and sat down to text Kay. We had been texting at each rest stop and I had no idea I was close. My legs felt like it was 80 miles, not 100, and then I heard her call my name. I had caught her. What a nice surprise. We rolled out together and rode together for just six miles before I broke from the route and headed back to Charles Town.

In Charles Town, as I came up Washington Street, a car started to overtake me at an intersection. This is a common occurrence and I didn’t think much of it. As I went straight the driver got just far enough in front of me then she whipped the car to the right and made a right turn. Into me. The classic right hook.

I tried to evade her by turning sharper but I couldn’t. She hit me and sent me flying.

I remember nothing after being contacted by her car until I was on the ground. My shoulders and back seemed to take the worst of it and I lay on the street in pain with my bike on top of me, still clipped into the left pedal.

I had ridden 115 miles, my farthest ever, and combined with the heat, 86º, and the effort to get up the rise before the intersection, I was breathing heavy. Laying on my back I was afraid to open my eyes. I was scared.

I was breathing very heavily and heard the woman who hit me scream at me. “DIDN’T YOU SEE MY SIGNAL!!!” “DIDN’T YOU SEE MY SIGNAL!!!”

I paid her no attention and within another minute a passerby stopped her car and came to my assistance. If I had any idea of getting to my feet she made sure that I was to remain immobile. In fact, she held me around my shoulders so I wouldn’t move. And I was too weak to fight.

Another passerby tried to unclip my shoes. And in the moment, I could not remember how to release them. I was afraid they were going to cut them off. Not my Louis Garneaus!

An ambulance arrived pretty quickly followed by the police and then a firetruck. As the paramedics attended to me the woman who had been attending, also a paramedic, introduced herself to them. I was holding the back of my leg, not because I was injured but because the position I was in, combined with riding 115 miles in the heat, was causing me to cramp.

She told the paramedic crew that I was cramping because I had ridden 15 miles. “115 miles,” I corrected her, and I threw water on her.

They extricated me from my bike (is that a thing?) and moved it next to a building. They helped me to my feet then checked my vitals, checking to see if I was dizzy. I could move everything but was sore from the crash. I had some road rash but it wasn’t bad. I refused a trip to the emergency room in the ambulance.

My handlebar tape was torn and the shifters were out of place. I was able to forcibly realign one mostly. Against the wishes of, well, everyone there, I decided I would keep on riding.
As I got close to Bethany’s I noticed the front wheel was wobbling. More damage that I hadn’t seen.

I was shaken up and really just wanted to go home. I just wanted to end my five-day Bike Virginia trip after one day.

I set a new personal best for miles ridden in one day: 119.2, and would have gone farther except for the crash. But my bike and I were sore and beat up.

Bethany reminded me that there was a bike store in Charles Town and I took my bike there. It was Three Points Cycle and the manager/owner on duty couldn’t be nicer. He looked at me, still walking in a daze, listened to my story, and told me he grew up in Woodbridge. He attended Gar-Field H.S. He took my front wheel and trued it. No charge. I started feeling better.

But I was still shaken.

It sucks to get hit by a car.

The driver was not charged.

September 24, 2011August 24, 2021

Alpine Gran Fondo

This was two events in one. Or at least that was my expectation. It was the inaugural Jeremiah Bishop’s Alpine Gran Fondo and a fundraiser for the Prostate Cancer Awareness Project. The cycling event was pretty neat. The fundraising portion was disappointing.

First the cycling.

Jeremiah Bishop told me last night that he planned to call all the fundraisers upfront for the rollout. However, when we started, he got in position behind the police car and he called for bib numbers 1-15 to join him. Instead, a number of jerks simply move to the front. So most top fundraisers were pushed aside. Maybe they didn’t hear? I had Bib #3.

We rolled out and I was quickly in about 10th position. I think for at least the Gran Fondo riders (there were two other routes as well) we stayed together as a peloton for the first 11 miles. Once we got on US 33 the pace picked up or I started to drop back. Doesn’t matter. I was wearing four bibs on my back, the only person to honor or remember those fighting cancer, and I decided that no one would see them if I stayed in 10th position. So I drifted back.

Although not a race, we had two timed King of the Mountain climbs. The first one was on US33 and the peloton sped up as we approached the start of the climb then abruptly slowed down to make sure their timing chips were read. I stayed in the back. I was the last to go through although I think at this point we had a major split in the peloton and I foolishly had been hanging with the first group led out by Jeremiah Bishop.

The climb on the lower slopes of 33 was pretty easy but I thought I would catch and pass someone. Anyone. Nope, no one. Then about halfway up the climb some riders from the second group began to catch and pass me. In all, I was probably passed by 20 riders and passed no one. Nada. It’s the first time on a climb with other riders I don’t remember catching anyone. That’s what I get for hanging at the front.

View of West Virginia from the top of US 33

After a screaming descent where I caught some other riders, followed by a brief rest stop, we rolled out to our next turn and this warning sign: “Gravel.” If only it had just been gravel. It was a mud road. The GPS quickly registered 12% and I tried to find a line where I could sit and pedal. I made it up the first mile and a half then saw everybody ahead had dismounted and were pushing their bikes. The GPS registered 25%. I was determined to pass them all. Until all I did was spin. Then I joined them.

I thought I could go where no one had gone before but it was the wise decision to dismount before I fell. It would be fun to tackle this section on a day the road was dry.

I was wise enough to have brought cleat covers which I used while walking in the mud and dirt. Others weren’t so lucky as they reached the top of the climb and found their cleats wouldn’t clip in because of the grit.

Part of the mud climb. This section was good enough to ride.

The profile of the route shows four major climbs. The first, basically the first 23 miles, was on US 33 and had good pavement. The second, around mile 34, was the mud section. All of it. The third section, around mile 47, was on paved roads coming out of Franklin. The fourth, mile 62, was all dirt. Again.

Summit of the first dirt (mud) section. Lots of people walking.

Leaving the rest area at Franklin, West Virginia, was a short climb where I was passed by four riders. I was getting passed by everybody and had no response. It may have been my nutrition. Or just my suckage. I planned to take some gels, one for every 15 miles but left them in the van. Damn.

At the top of the climb coming out of Franklin, I summited then hit a four-mile descent. I took off and passed a couple of riders. My descending was excellent today. Then a six-mile climb began. And a partial transformation. About halfway up three men and a woman caught me. I stayed with them for half a mile then dropped off.

Riding by myself I was caught by Jim Mortson. Although he should have dropped me he either eased up or I picked it up but we rode together. About one mile from the top we passed the woman who had been dropped from their group. Then near the top in a 13-14% section, we passed the three men. All walking! I mentioned to them the story of the tortoise and the hair. Fear the Turtle! I hope they weren’t offended.

Jim and I rode to the rest stop at Moyers Gap Road. When we left there were five of us soft pedaling as the road turned to dirt. Unlike the first climb, this road wasn’t mud and one could ride it without spinning out. This was the road up to Reddish Knob.

There were a couple of cones off to the side of the road and a sign “KOM Start.” The King of the Mountain competition. We all kept pedaling. No attacks. Nothing hard. Someone mentioned they’d see us at the top.

I was the oldest of the five and had just been hanging with Jim and had no expectation of staying with him. As we climbed higher the road went from dirt to rocks. Not the loose rocks or heavy gravel but the rocks that were simply part of the road perhaps when the road was grated years ago they were just sheered off. Trying to find a line to ride without running over rocks was impossible.

One guy dropped behind us while two went ahead. Jim and I kept pedaling. I had no idea of the length and it was hard to judge from the trees. Each time I looked up I could see daylight through the trees and thought I was near the summit. I wasn’t. The two guys in front of us pulled over, the relentless climb getting to them.

Jim and I stayed together although at perhaps two miles from the summit he dropped behind me. I never looked back to see where he was.

Summit at Reddish Knob. End of the Dirt Road.

The road was tough to pedal and many times the grade was 11 and 12%. But it wasn’t a 12% average like Mount Washington. I calculated it to be an average 8.1% which is pretty formidable, especially with that road surface.

I continued on alone just wondering where the summit was. And I felt that I was getting stronger. Having already dropped everyone in my group (after believing it would be me who got dropped) I soon caught one of the riders who left the rest stop five minutes before we did. I continued on and the road started to flatten out with 1K to go. I picked up my speed and blew by a rider trying to sprint my way to the finish line although I knew I had no hope of an age group podium.

I went from feeling crappy to passing everyone I rode with. I could have continued on but waited for Jim to come over the top. He was five minutes back of me.

What was most refreshing was there was no cramping. Often at mile 50 or 60 if I have a long climb the “cramp monster” finds me. Today I felt good. And with Mount Washington type grades I did not have Mount Washington type gearing – just my normal gearing.

The descent was foggy and a little chilly but nothing like France prepared me for in July. Again I bombed it then waited to ride with Jim.

I gave up five minutes waiting at the summit and after the last rest stop maybe as much as 20 minutes more sweeping, waiting for a rider battling asthma. It’s not about the time of the ride – it’s just a ride – and there’s no way I was going to leave a struggling rider behind. Besides, I accomplished what I wanted to.

Having dropped all the climbers in my group on Reddish Knob I was feeling good. We hit some pretty steep rollers and I had drifted to the back to help our struggling rider. Then I made my way up the climb, catching and passing everyone in my group. One guy said, “I hate you.” I smiled. With that, I soft-pedaled then let them go and dropped back to sweep.

I didn’t post a great time but I enjoyed the ride. I didn’t understand the KOM was cumulative with two climbs and took my time on the first one – 14th out of 14 in my age group. On the second climb, I was 8th out of 14.

On the day I say it was 10% fun, 90% suffering and 100% satisfying.

Barry and Jeremiah
Source: Alpine Loop Gran Fondo Facebook Page

Now the fundraising.

My expectation was this was a cycling event/fundraiser which ultimately turned into a neat cycling event. Jeremiah talked of recognizing the fundraising teams but none was made. I spoke briefly with Robert Hess, the founder and president of PCAP after the event and shared with him better ways to improve participation and to get the message out. I think I was the top fundraiser with $1,000.29 but will never know. The 29 cents paying homage to the organization 29,000men.org.

Donating to this event was complicated compared to the sites at LIVESTRONG, Team in Training, and the MS Society. There, people can search for a participant and donate in their name. Their apps show the top fundraiser giving incentive to others chasing to recruit more donations. Donors like to see their names in the scroll. And maybe more importantly, while waiting at the finish for official results, the top fundraisers could have recognized, perhaps with prizes for certain thresholds.

I took all their Blue Ribbon cookies. Was that wrong?

This was a first-time event and they look forward to doing it again. Hard to improve on the awesome cycling but maybe they can improve the fundraising.

June 20, 2011September 15, 2020

A Different Father’s Day Ride

MARSHALL, VIRGINIA

Two years ago I set out from Woodbridge to ride to Charles Town for Fathers’ Day. Dark clouds were in the air and the metaphor was obvious.

Today there were dark clouds, and even a little rain, but no metaphors.

There was a Potomac Pedalers “CC” ride out of Marshall, the Blue Ridger, and I first thought that I would drive to Marshall and ride with them to Rte 7 and then break off and head to Charles Town. But the more I thought about it the more I knew I didn’t want to join them.

Their route would be in the traditional counter-clockwise direction which means they would put in 25 miles before they do any climbs. I wanted to climb Naked Mountain and Mount Weather.

I watched them take off at 8:40 a.m. and I was on the road six minutes later. In the opposite direction. My route choice would let me do the climbs.

It’s been a while since I climbed Naked Mountain in this direction. It kicks up to 17% on this grade. From Markham it’s a 3.5-mile climb to the top and from Rte 17 at Paris, it’s a five-mile grind to the high point on Mount Weather.

My descent to Rte 7 got me to 47 mph. I could have gone faster but had to stop at the bottom of the hill. This is also where I met the Potomac Pedalers group. I left six minutes later and traveled 30 miles and climbed two mountains including 8.5 miles of climbing on two slopes in the time they went 25 miles and had no climbs. That was a slow ride and one I was glad not to be a part of.

And to be fair, they may have had a 20-minute rest break at the general store in Bluemont. I’m not a fan of long stops either.

At Rte. 7 I turned left (west) and headed down to the Shenandoah River. Following a new route, I took Shepherd’s Grade Rd to Wycliffe then Kabletown, before finding Old Cave Road.

I never unclipped or put a foot down for 50 miles from the start until I got within a mile of Ashley’s place. At a railroad crossing that was blocked for repairs, I had to walk my bike over the tracks.

The uncertainty of what lies ahead weighed deeply on my mind two years ago. Today I thought of my life as a survivor. A much different Fathers’ Day ride.

May 5, 2011August 13, 2021

Shepherdstown Loop

RANSON, WEST VIRGINIA

A windy day with temperatures in the 70s. I left Ranson and rode on Flowing Springs Road.

Bad roads come in different shapes and sizes and this is a bad road. It’s a two-lane country road with blind curves and no shoulders. A safe speed may be 45 mph but this is signed for 55 and the cars probably do 60-65. I would not recommend riding this road again. There must be a better way.

Rolling into Shepherdstown and I thought how much money I spent here. Eight years’ of college tuition payments for Bethany and Ashley. It is a lovely Civil War era town but goes back to the founding of the country when some lawmakers pushed for Shepherdstown to be the Nation’s Capital.

I followed country roads past Cress Creek golf club and the doubled back to Martinsburg.

Leaving Martinsburg, I took the bike path back to Ranson. The new Rte 9 recently opened the entire way from Charles Town to Martinsburg and features a bike path that parallels it. I was alone.

It was windy and after the ride, I felt whipped. But it was a day on the bike which beats a day on the sofa.

June 21, 2009August 28, 2021

A Father’s Day Ride

CHARLES TOWN, WEST VIRGINIA

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.

Happy Father’s Day!

Stats and Map

April 13, 2009August 4, 2021

A Windy Blair Witch

RANSON, WEST VIRGINIA

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.

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.

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.