Don Lowmaster - peaceonabike

August 4, 2018January 24, 2024

Stranger on the Road

RICHLAND, PENNSYLVANIA

Each year I look forward to my ride from Somerset to the family reunion near Punxsutawney (which is actually Winebark Park in Canoe Twp., near Rossiter). When my parents lived in Friedens, I barely had enough time to get there. But when they moved to Somerset I just didn’t have enough time to travel there safely before the noon meal. The road from Somerset to Friedens at 6:00 a.m. is just too sketchy.

Rather than leave in the dark, I checked with my nephew, Josh Reese, and parked at the Kia dealership in Richland. It was easy-off, easy-on for access from US Rte 219. When I arrived there was a heavy fog and I delayed my start until I felt safe enough.

Good morning Johnstown! The Inclined Plane.

Leaving the Kia parking lot is a little like riding the Thunderbolt roller coaster at Kennywood Park in Pittsburgh for the first time. Rather than start by pedaling, I almost could take a half pedal turn then coast for three and one-half miles.

Of course, I didn’t do that. It was all downhill and I pedaled most of the way, only occasionally dropping into a tuck and coasting. What a great way to begin a trip. Rather than go through Johnstown as fast as I could I went sight-seeing, mainly taking some photos of the Inclined Plane.

Who doesn’t like a picture of a caboose? (Walnut Street at William Penn Ave.)

The road (Pa. Rte 271) out of Johnstown is through East Conemaugh and up a mountain. But it seems to be graded at a consistent grade, I would guess around 4%, and I always find it easy (although my climb data may disagree). Traffic was mostly good as I went through Mundy’s Corner, Nanty Glo and Twin Rocks up to US 422 at Belsano.

I was on US 422 for less than half a mile then turned on (and stayed on Rte 271). I was surprised about a mile in to pass a bike trail crossing. This was an extension of the Ghost Town Trail. It looks like a nice trail, very lightly traveled, but best for bigger tires and not this road bike. At least for long distances.

This is always my favorite part of the trip – the 13 miles to Northern Cambria. Rte 271 has good pavement, little traffic, and is easy pedaling, with only one climb along the way (up to Nicktown). I could smell the corn in the field. And occasionally, manure.

I stopped at Duman Lake to use a porta-john and also for a photo op. There is a climb to Nicktown which I only later learned was a Strava Segment. I didn’t know I was racing. I will have to come back tomorrow and put up a decent time.*

At Nicktown is a four mile descent to Northern Cambria. On past rides, I have hit 49 mph but today only went to 44 mph and got in a tuck. That was fast enough (and was also the speed limit – 45 mph). I have found that since my crash in Ohio I am more cautious than I have been and I have never been careless.

On the climb up 271 (Blue Goose) towards Nicktown

I stopped in Northern Cambria and saw my cousins, Don and Nancy Lowmaster, and their daughter. I couldn’t stay long but enjoyed the short time we had.

As I was leaving Northern Cambria, I was passed by a truck pulling a trailer with a small tractor on it. The driver got out and as I approached, motioned for me to pull over. This did not feel like an angry setup and I complied. Then he asked if I was “the Barry Sherry.” Well, I admitted as much. But who was that stranger?

The driver was Mike Peronne, the former postmaster in Cherry Tree, Pa. We had never met but we had talked and he knew once a year I rode through here. And he said “and I saw your hair and figured it was you.” LOL. We talked for about five minutes before we both headed up 219 towards Cherry Tree.

The rest of the trip I thought about that interaction with the stranger. Those last 20 miles are the hardest as the road turns heavy and there is a lot of climbing. Steep climbing and grades that don’t remain constant.

The last couple miles are on Porterfield/Canoe Ridge Road and pass a few Amish homes. A little girl in a blue dress excitedly waved to me. Of course, I waved back. As did a boy about 10-12 years old. And a man climbing a ladder. It is always enjoyable riding through this stretch because the Amish are always so friendly to me. I think they relate to cyclists as they ride bikes and we face the same dangers on the road they do whether it’s by bike or by horse. And I am the stranger to all of them.

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EDIT/EPILOGUE – I did go back on Sunday. Can’t believe a crappy time on Strava would bug me enough but I could not leave those two climbs (the other Station Road coming out of Twin Rocks) with such bad times. So on Sunday, I went hard, first on Station Road Climb. Since I started at Krispy Kream and basically went downhill to Twin Rocks, the “engine” wasn’t warmed up. Still, I lowered my time from 7:38 to 5:30, a reduction of 23%. When I got to Blue Goose Climb I was warmed up. I went hard and lowered my time from 8:26 to 7:10 which was only a reduction of 15%. Aaah. I’ll never get KOMs on these climbs but at least my name isn’t associated with sucky times anymore. And on my way back, I went through a new segment that I wasn’t aware of. My time sucked. Must go back again.

At least I finished with a good recovery drink. In a cone.

August 6, 2016October 9, 2016

Reunion in the Rain

SOMERSET, PENNSYLVANIA

Seven years ago I started attending reunions regularly with my parents in part so I could ride from Somerset to Punxsutawney and have a ride back. A normal ride would be 80 miles. Except I previously left from Friedens which is north of Somerset. Today I would leave from Somerset.

The weather forecast was ominous. With a 40% chance of rain I pushed off just as soon as I found daylight. Except it began to rain. I wasn’t crazy about riding on wet roads and still a little bit dark. I decided not to follow Rte 281 through Friedens but took back roads over near Shanksville, passing the Flight 93 Memorial Chapel along the way.

Rain, heavy at times, kept me from going fast. I’m not normally scared on the bike but there were a couple of descents where I was scared. I was descending too fast down Mostoller Road because I had no brakes. Everything was wet and I wasn’t getting any grip on the brakes. I came to a stop sign at the bottom of the road and had no choice but to fly through the intersection even while grabbing a handful of brakes. With corn fields on either side I could not see approaching traffic but hoped for the best. I went through the intersection with no problem.

Hidden Lincoln Highway gas pump in Stoystown

I was in a steady rain until Johnstown when the skies turned grey. Just grey. But it was nice not to be fighting the rain and knowing, hopefully, that drivers can see me on the road.

Haven made this ride numerous times, there was nothing tricky about it. I followed my route through Davidsville to Johnstown where I picked up Rte 271 to Nicktown and Northern Cambria. In Northern Cambria I stopped and saw friends/cousins, Don & Nancy Lowmaster, before heading up to Cherry Tree and Indiana Co.

I passed one Amish buggy and waved to the people inside. I find the Amish are always very friendly to me when I’m on my bike and we do share that common bond: drivers hate us.

Otherwise, the ride was uneventful. I am always on the look out for dogs and seemingly get by the one house every year before the loose dogs notice me. They missed me again today.

I was dirty when I arrived at the reunion although not too wet as my wicking clothes got rid of the rain only to be replaced by sweat. But I was thankful, especially with the early weather conditions, to have made it safely.

August 2, 2014August 2, 2021

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

August 3, 2013August 31, 2020

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.