Chapter 3: Bike Tour, Take 2

Cluster of VW Bugs in the Appalachian Mountains

In Wooster, OH, at Aunt Jacqui and Uncle Rick's place, Rick suggested that Chris slide his cleats all the way back along his bike shoes to reduce the movement in his ankle. This was marvelous advice. We were able to ride all the way from Wooster to Harrisburg, PA with no further problems. Even after Courtney's Achilles began to go the same way, the cleat trick worked to avoid injury.

We passed the first day on the Sippo Valley Trail - A Rails-to-Trails path (http://www.railstotrails.org/). We camped on the side of the trail just outside of Canton. This time around we reduced our mileage to about 30 or 40 miles a day instead of shooting for 60 and 70. We saw more and spent more time at lunch and in towns or trails along the way. We were much more relaxed and injuries ceased.

Mornings are cold in Ohio and Pennsylvania in September. We stopped for a warm up coffee in Canton and then headed down the road toward Homeworth, OH. This was not intended as our destination but we stopped to ask for a refill of water and Steve, busy taking care of a hornet nest in his back yard, was happy to oblige. We were only a mile down the road when his friend caught up with us in a fancy red Ford Fiesta to tell us that Steve wanted to invite us to camp in his yard and feed us dinner "It's after 5 now, you won't be getting much farther tonight."

We ate salad and chatted with Steve. Sat on his deck and watched the sunset. In the morning we set off down Georgetown Rd - a quiet road with short steep bursts of hill, made a wrong turn and ended up on a numbered highway, which on Sunday, was quiet and calm with slow rolling hills. This road carried us straight into Lisbon, OH and the Johnny Appleseed Festival. Home made delicacies, free apples and live fiddle music, for Chris's extreme enjoyment.

We picnic'd amongst the festivities and chatted with some people to get new directions. They gave us all the wrong numbers but we got the basic idea and set off toward East Liverpool, OH. We ended up riding along HWY 30 which, at first is rather small but turns suddenly into a 4 lane divided highway. 30, otherwise known as Lincoln HWY, was once THE cross country road to New York. The history this road could share is unimaginable. This was not our first time encountering it but, these days, we had made a point to not stay on it too long. Many cars passing at fast speeds isn't good for bike riding. It was still Sunday, however, and most everyone was at home or elsewhere so we enjoyed a pleasant 15 miles of easy highway grades and wide shoulders before ending up in E Liverpool. This was to be our last night in Ohio, and it was quite a send off.

We parked ourselves along the waterfront where many people were enjoying the last sun rays of their Sunday evening. When we asked someone if they knew of a place to camp for free, the troops were rallied in. Everyone was asked and everyone had a suggestion. Advice wasn't the only thing they had to offer. We were told stories about the town and it's generosity (such as the story of the two elderly ladies who sold their houses and moved into a boat that they were sailing down the Ohio River toward Louisiana. They had some engine trouble and ran aground right in E Liverpool. They ended up having to stay there for several weeks. People made them food, helped with engine technicalities, and organized to get their retirement checks sent to the office in town. These adventurous ladies were on their way and in good spirits.). Eventually someone called the town guard over to ask if we could camp right there along the river. Sure, no problem, I'll get the security to check on you once an hour to make sure you're OK.

Our beautiful Campsite on the Ohio River in E Liverpool

We made it the next day to Pittsburgh where we stayed with Cara and Cleveland, friends from San Francisco. They showed us around. Two big things were happening in Pittsburgh when we arrived. 1. We had gotten there just before the G-20 conference so there was an air of political tension which would break down into chaos. The sidewalks were caged up, military police were everywhere and many streets were shut down. 2. The Steelers were playing against Chicago. And they lost. For 60 miles outside of Pittsburgh all anyone seemed to want to talk about was the Steelers. 'Where you going in Pittsburgh? The Stadium?' 'Oh, you're coming from Chicago? That's where the Steelers are.' 'Don't tell anyone you've ever even heard of Chicago...'

We left Pittsburgh after a few days. We biked out just as the official rallies were beginning and headed North East on quiet roads. On our way, we passed the Bell Township where we were transported to a perfect Pennsylvania fall day. Crossing a bridge over a picturesque lake and cruising into falling golden leaves. We reached Slickville, PA where we spent the night outside of a Fire station. We were woken twice in the middle of the night by a brutal end-of-the-world alarm, or what we imagine the atomic bomb drills must have sounded like.

But this time the world didn't end and in the morning we hopped on a Rails-to-Trails path to Ebensburg, a city at 2000 ft which you hardly notice with the easy rail grade that the path provides. We passed two days away from cars on a few forested trails. These were gorgeous. Pennsylvania is lucky to have them: The West-Penn Trail, The West Mooreland Trail and Finally the Ghost Town Trail - a path that took us through the, now non-existent, Ghost towns of the old coal mines in Pennsylvania. We got to see the ruins of a few Coal Ovens and learned a bit about the history of the area. The Hoodlebug trail, however, was not a trail at all, and if you ever find yourself looking for it, we advise you to find another route.

As we rode into Ebensburg it began to pour down rain. We have full rain gear so we were prepared but attempted to wait out the rain none-the-less. As we were riding through town we discovered that Ebensburg was having their annual Potato Festival. Potato everything was available to view and purchase. We were stopped by a local couple and asked what on earth we were doing with these bikes all loaded up. We chatted for a minute and the man got his friends who were working outside a diner to watch our bikes for us while we stepped inside for a cup of coffee. As we were saying goodbye, he gave us $5 for our first cup. Even the diner was celebrating and had a special potato menu so we enjoyed french fries and potato pierogis with our coffee.

Courtney taking a break from the rain outside of Roaring Springs, PA

As we left town the rain only got harder and we chose to wait under a few over passes for the storm to stop. Little did we know it would take days. But, while waiting, we hailed down Marty who took us 27 miles to Roaring Springs, PA. We talked about the new windmills and the loss of trees and hunting land due to them. We talked about work, lack of work and "green jobs." Marty had just lost his job as a truck driver and was out for a Sunday Drive to no where in particular. We made it to Roaring Springs long before we would usually stop for the day and had only biked 15 miles that morning and afternoon. So we braved the rain once more and headed up Henrietta Mountain Rd. A road that everyone seemed to enjoy telling us was a tough one.

We were just about to ascend the steepest part when the roads confused us and we stopped an adorable high school couple on their way to Home Coming - both looking dapper, the girl with perfect blond curls. Which way to HWY 26? About 3 miles, right? Great! Thanks!!

Two thirds of the way up Henrietta Mountain Rd we were stopped by an older relaxed looking man in blue jeans and a beard who insisted on offering us a place to stay for the night. As it turned out, the young boy in the car had called his dad and informed him that two Mennonites - this area of PA is highly populated with Mennonites - were biking up the hill (in this pouring rain) and could use a hand, if not a change of clothes. So he, Collin, had driven down his equally steep driveway and sat in his car waiting for us to reach him. Deborah and Collin let us wash our clothes, fed us soup, pizza, canned peaches and many other home made delicacies. They even opened a bottle of wine to share. We slept in a bed with a poster of Vashon Island, WA above our head. Andrew, the son, came home in the morning and we were able to thank him for the phone call.

Going up Henrietta Mountain Rd is hard. Going down, is scary. But we made it and thus began our travels through the mountains of Pennsylvania. Up and down. Through the trees and towns. Names like Burnt Cabins, Broad Top, Newville, Newburg; so many burgs. In Newville we camped outside of a church and in the morning one of the daycare counselors kindly asked if we had any interest in talking to the kids about the bike tour. We got to answer questions. Show them our bikes and rain gear. Listen to them tell us about how their dad does the same thing or how long their longest bike ride was. Little girls talked to Courtney about how they liked to bike too. Boys asked us what kind of bike computer we had. We showed off a little by stretching and they imitated us and then we rode away and everyone waved goodbye.

In the valley after a three mile descent from Broad Top, PA.

We arrived in Harrisburg a few days before we were supposed to be in New York for our friend's wedding. We had decided to take a bus from there so we could help out with wedding preparations. But after many days of riding through mountains, the valley just outside of Harrisburg was a breeze so we arrived in Harrisburg early and were able to explore the city a little before heading out again. Harrisburg is quite beautiful in an old broken down colonial sort of way. Even downtown is pretty - separated by a river and connected by a dozen unique bridges. They even have their own microbrewery. The Great Wall Chinatown bus took us all the way for only $25.

Quite evening waiting for the bus on the Harrisburg riverfront.