Why a Duck (Viaduct)?

TOP: Mark and John on massive flyover over river, freeway, and valley
2nd: Mark at Harpers Ferry flyover of Potomac and C&O canal

Tunnel Vision

TOP: Wind farms on the way to Cumberland. I counted some 30 windmills along the trail

2nd: Mark inside the wet Paw-Paw tunnel

3rd: Mark claiming the Paw-Paw tunnel for liberal athiests everywhere. He was quickly escorted down by the Paw-Paw christian right

4th: Reminder of an ugly chapter in America. The christian right still supports it

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The ride down to cumberland was quite nice, seeing the numerous wind farms (my new interest), going through a series of tunnels, and finally getting up over 10mph for more than 50'. Upon arriving in cumberland, john went immediately to the Cumberland Creamery to get more ice cream...the massive chocolate covered waffle cone with 5 (yes, 5) scoops following on the heals of the 2 milkshakes he had at the Dumptown Dairy Mart earlier in the day at lunch. He would then go to the Piggly-Wiggly and buy a half gallon more to eat while watching deal-or-no-deal on TV back in the motel room. I meanwhile was doubled over from just walking by the Creamery with my lactose-intollerant intestinal trac.

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Cumberland was a cute little town, and we went beer hunting. Mark was parched, which means that we needed a bar, since no grocery would have enough beer in stock for him. He quickly made friends with the local barkeep, and they traded off tales of hops, lagers, and St Pauli girl posters. I read the local rag, the Cumberland Chronicle (or something like that) to catch up on where the anti-Yankee rally was, when the next knitting circle was being held, and how some faggy looking guys in lycra on bicycles were coming through town (so that the pickup trucks could target them). Actually, my perceptions were misperceptions, as most everybody we encountered were quite nice, and they treated us well.

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I finally moved up sleepingwise also, from recliner...to mattress on the floor...to child-size cot. At this rate, I'll be in a bed the middle of next week. Thankfully, I can sleep anywhere...and with mark's snoring, anywhere but next to mark was a good thing!

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"Creamery Deprived" Lumpy out

16 tons, and what do you get? A painful uphill!

TOP: Dump truck backing up over a narrow, high viaduct

2nd: Mark and Lumpy at the Eastern Continental Divide. FINALLY, a downhill!

3rd: The "earthen dam" that we mistakenly climbed

4th: Fresh trail, AKA sand, that we rode through for about 10 miles, uphill, into the wind. Note the tire tracks from sinking in

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After a less than restful (but well fed at least) sleep at the Paddlers B&B, we awoke to a colder morning (up in the mountains now), and headed out on our trusty steeds. After a quick 2 mile uphill dash through town, we came to a trail junction; and, like day 1, we immediately choose the wrong trail. We biked to a "earthen dam", (above), which is basically how they encapsulate "goddamn, there's a huge piece of earth that we have to climb up". So, up we went (note that the little thing in the top right corner is a house), climbing up a pretty steep, stone and dirt grade. When we got to the top, we had the rare pleasure of seeing a barbed wire fence with "no tresspassing". Clearly, something had gone amiss here...

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Anyhow, we coasted back down off the dam and got onto the correct trail. I was really looking forward to today, as we started with a 45 mile uphill. And, of course, the wind was in our faces. And the trail was soft from all the rain the prior few nights. And they were putting down new trail. Yes, new trail. We came upon a big viaduct (a canyon flyover) and it had to wait while a huge dump truck full of sand backed up over the viaduct. This with about 1/4" to spare on either side of the truck. Then he backed up a mile or so up the hill, and dumped his load of fresh sand, where the workers were spreading it. We had the rare pleasure of riding through it for about 10 miles, sinking into the sand. Oh, and did I mention the wind in our faces? And the uphill?

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Mark and John sprinted ahead, while I languished in my "winter fat" induced riding coma. Unfortunately for me, I actually had 3 seasons of "winter fat" accumulated, so it was a long slog up that hill. I was sweating and swearing the whole way. Well, except for the views. They just took your breath away sometimes. Rapids on the river, wind farms, terraced farms. Beautiful countryside.

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About 100' before the top (old rail tunnel above photo) I flatted...just capping off what was a long day in the saddle...and it's only half over. I changed my tube, got some photos, and longed for the long downhill to come. The downhill was awesome, ~ 30 miles (bit steeper than the uphill), ending up in Cumberland MD. This is where we would transition over to the C&O canal trail, basically flat the rest of the way in.

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"Gotta remember to only store one winter of fat at a time" Lumpy out

The "Midnight Train to Confluence"

And 1am...and 2am...and 3am....

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7 hours uphill on a stupid mountain bike, and the train wakes me every hour all night long....

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Sleep deprived Lumpy out

They Should Have Called it a R&R, not a B&B

TOP: Mark and Lumpy at the first (of about 10,000) waterfall

2nd: John arrives at the Paddlers B&B, and tries to check in with his gold Hilton card.

3rd: John and "Dead Tranny" Bruce the Canadian. He paid for our lodging and food since the Canadian dollar is now worth double the US dollar...thanks George, you shithead.

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We made 75 miles of riding on our mountain bikes the first day, on a slight uphill. The scenery was incredible as we followed the Youngandhoho River up towards it's source in Confluence. We saw all kinds of game, deer, woodchucks, river kayakers, fisherman, and even a couple of fellow cyclists.

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Confluence is where 3 rivers converge, and it's a big fishing and kayaking area in the spring. Unfortunately, on a cold monday night, every restaurant in town was closed, there were almost no visitors (except the 3am trains), and nightfall was approaching quickly. We stayed at a little B&B for the night, but it was ~ 2 miles from the town. Luckily for us, the house guardian Rainey was our guardian angel for the evening. She drove us into town (try getting BACK on a mountain bike after 7 hours in the saddle...2 miles seems like 200) to the market, grabbed some wine from her house to get us through the evening (Mark needs 3-4 liters alcohol nightly to function), and joined us for dinner back at the B&B. Great gal.

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Also at the B&B was a Canadian guy named Bruce. Bruce had a great story to tell...60ish years old (but looking 40), he was on a vacation to see a bunch of frank lloyd wright houses (i.e. falling brook) nearby when his car dropped it's tranny (I feel your pain, having had it happen to us just 2 months earlier in Florida!). Bruce, being a trooper, had his car towed to a garage (in western PA, clearly a leap of faith in humanity...), jumped on his bike which was in his car, and rode the 30+ miles to Confluence. Tomorrow he is going to ride to one of the FLW houses, then ride back the 30 miles to where his car is being fixed. But tonight, he hangs with the Lump, drinking wine, eating our outstanding (if I say so myself) pasta dinner, and singing anti-Bush songs.

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"Maybe I shoulda paddled downstream instead" Lumpy out

Mind The GAP!

TOP: John readies his steed for battle. Note that the mountain bike dwarfs the Mini Cooper.
2nd: Lumpy and John at starting marina in McKeesport, PA
3rd: Mark and his date
4th: The Youghiogheny river rapids
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My latest adventure is a bike trip on a rail trail called the GAP-C&O. It is a conglomeration of the Great Allegheney Passage along the Youghiogheny and Castleman Rivers, and then in Cumberland MD transitioning to the canal bed of the C&O canal all the way to Washington, DC.
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As a wee bit of history, the C&O canal was the canal that Washington and the "southerners" tried to build along the potomac to cross the eastern continental divide and open up "the west". At the same time the construction of the Erie Canal in New York was going on, and, as we all know, it ended up getting built and became the primary gateway to the US interior and New York City the primary port, until the advent of the railroads. The C&O kept getting destroyed by spring floods, had funding issues, and eventually was overtaken by the railroad system paralleling it (still a major rail corridor as we found out every night at 3am).
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Two friends accompanied me on the trip, Mark Lutterbien, and old swimming friend from probably 20 years back in Rochester, and John Coble, a San Diego buddy now living in DC. We rendezvous'd in McKeesport PA, just outside Pittsburgh, and being the smallest guy, I got to spend a lovely evening sleeping in a courdoroy recliner, next to an open window, alongside a major truck freeway, on a 3o degree night. Last time I ask them to join me on anything... I shut the window and melted them at 4am. Lumpy like heat...and quiet...
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We left early monday morning from McKeesport marina, a surprisingly nice piece of real estate, in a sadly depressed town. McKeesport was a "big steel" town...now it's populated with empty steel mills, crumbled buildings, glass-strewn lots, and potholed streets. It's a sad thing to see, and the people there were obviously struggling just to get by. We spoke with some police officers (who couldn't have been any nicer to a bunch of lycra-clad white bread cyclists), and the waitresses at the diner. Everyone seemed resigned to their fate.
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The trip topography is basically 120 miles very gradual uphill (1-2%), 30 miles bit steeper downhill (2-4%), and then a flat run to the finish. The trail texture alternated between crushed stone, gravel, dirt, moderate mud, sand, and pavement. A fun ride, not to stressful, but 330 miles in 3 1/2 days of riding; enough to get the juices flowing.
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"Did I say 120 miles of uphill" Lumpy out

Old Jesuit saying: Give me the boy, and I'll own the man

TOP: Inside of a catholic church by Lumpy. The lightning hit minutes later.

2nd: Weird coincidence, Arusha is where we hiked Mt Kilimanjaro last fall. It is the town this lilly-white church has adopted as it's mission. Go figure.

3rd: the happy family and some guy in a robe. Godchild is middle, in the natty suit...grandad is a tailor

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As many of you know, I'm a devout athiest and not a big fan of little kids, so, becoming a godchild to one of our good friends children was quite a stretch. Fran and Joel must have been on the sauce or something when they asked me. But, I took it as a significant honor, and gladly accepted. They're great people (I've known Joel for probably 35 years now!), and my godchild Alex is a great little kid, full of hell (as I heavily promote), and predestined to be married to my niece. Plus, Fran promised me that I wouldn't have to raise him if they died in a fiery crash. Worked for me....

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Last weekend he made his first communion. For those non-catholics in the reading audience, this is an interesting ritual in which cannabilism is heavily promoted. You apparently drink blood and eat flesh in memory of their god, jesus. I think he was part of the jewish donner party at some point before being crucified. It's a very symbolic ritual, and the church makes a big deal of it with little kids, as it's really the first one that they consciously participate in. Then they're hooked.

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As kathy and I are driving to the church, from what was a sunny day, huge dark clouds roll in, heavy rain starts, and then signficant hail peppers the car and roadways. Then the wind picks up and tree limbs are coming down all over. Basically, we were just waiting for the plague of locust and the river to turn to blood. At that point, I was going back home. Maybe there is something to this god thing after all!

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The mass was interesting, as it's been probably 35 years since I've been at one (except weddings). Lot's of aerobics (stand, sit, kneel, walk, sit, stand, jumping jacks), singing (need a black choir), preaching (where's rev wright when you need him?), and my favorite, some priest doing stand-up comedy from the pulpit. Now THAT was funny...a priest, a rabbi, and a minister go into a turkish bath....! I can see why people get into this ritual thing, irrespective of the reality of the actual ideology.

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Anyhow, the weekend ended great with a huge italian meal, cake all around, and making a new friend in a ballooning pilot. I'll feel bad for him if he's with me when we fly over a church....lighting inbound!!!

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"Role model" Lumpy out