Adelphi, MD
I have created a new website which describes my various adventures, including this one. So I won't be posting to blogspot any more - I have copied this blog to the new website. To keep up with my doings go to www.davidowenroberts.com. To see this blog click on Biking from Maine to Florida. You will be able to comment on a blog posting that is less than 30 days old.
I will be heading south on my bike in another couple of weeks.
Thursday, October 30, 2014
Thursday, October 2, 2014
Home again, temporarily
Adelphi, MD
It rained my last night on the C&O Canal towpath and my bike got a little muddy on that last leg to home. So when I got home I hosed it off and did a load of laundry. It was a delight to walk into a clean, orderly, spacious, comfortable, familiar space. What a luxury after almost seven months of living outdoors. And the mail! Piles and piles of it. So I have much to do before heading off again to Florida.
In Point of Rocks, Maryland, I met another long-distance biker and we had a long talk about our respective adventures. Come to find out he knows the people at the bike shop in Brunswick, Maine, where I stopped for repairs and purchases. So he took my photo to send it to them. This is the last photo of my seven-month beard before I shaved it off.
Current plans call for my old friend Gregg to ride with me to North Carolina to visit a mutual friend. But this won't happen for more than a month, so now is the time for a little hiatus. More later.
It rained my last night on the C&O Canal towpath and my bike got a little muddy on that last leg to home. So when I got home I hosed it off and did a load of laundry. It was a delight to walk into a clean, orderly, spacious, comfortable, familiar space. What a luxury after almost seven months of living outdoors. And the mail! Piles and piles of it. So I have much to do before heading off again to Florida.
In Point of Rocks, Maryland, I met another long-distance biker and we had a long talk about our respective adventures. Come to find out he knows the people at the bike shop in Brunswick, Maine, where I stopped for repairs and purchases. So he took my photo to send it to them. This is the last photo of my seven-month beard before I shaved it off.
Current plans call for my old friend Gregg to ride with me to North Carolina to visit a mutual friend. But this won't happen for more than a month, so now is the time for a little hiatus. More later.
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Family Reunion
Point of Rocks, MD
Harper's Ferry was an important milestone on my ride. There I crossed the Appalachian Trail for the second time since I got on the bike in Maine. I stopped in at the Appalachian Trail Conservancy Headquarters and took a look at the photo album of AT hikers. This year there have been over 1200 northbound and 500 southbound thru-hikers, more than ever before. I was the 188th northbounder to pass through Harper's Ferry - that was four months ago.
But the highlight of my short visit to Harper's Ferry was to be met and taken out to dinner by two of my siblings. We put my bike in Lea's car and followed Rick to the Golden Corral in Frederick for an AYCE (all you can eat) feast. Then I stayed with Lea for two nights and this morning she took me back to the trail. I appreciate their efforts to welcome me back to civilization and help ease me back to life at home with family and friends.
Harper's Ferry was an important milestone on my ride. There I crossed the Appalachian Trail for the second time since I got on the bike in Maine. I stopped in at the Appalachian Trail Conservancy Headquarters and took a look at the photo album of AT hikers. This year there have been over 1200 northbound and 500 southbound thru-hikers, more than ever before. I was the 188th northbounder to pass through Harper's Ferry - that was four months ago.
But the highlight of my short visit to Harper's Ferry was to be met and taken out to dinner by two of my siblings. We put my bike in Lea's car and followed Rick to the Golden Corral in Frederick for an AYCE (all you can eat) feast. Then I stayed with Lea for two nights and this morning she took me back to the trail. I appreciate their efforts to welcome me back to civilization and help ease me back to life at home with family and friends.
Monday, September 29, 2014
The Virginians
Carroll Valley, PA
One night I camped beside the C&O Canal along with two gentlemen and a woman from central Virginia. They were biking long days so they could finish the whole 350 miles from Pittsburgh to DC in just five days. They were pumped but tired, clearly proud of themselves for keeping up their speed. I made several attempts to engage them in conversation, but apparently all they could think about was their great achievements. I turned in early and was gone from the campsite before they awoke in the morning. I saw them in passing the next day and we exchanged pleasantries.
The next night I found myself camped next to the canal with four gentlemen and a woman from rural eastern Virginia. They were among the rare hikers on a predominantly biking route. It was their first day of a five day section hike. They had just walked ten miles and they were exhausted, but easy conversation ensued. I learned about their relationships with each other, their working lives, the geography of their homeland, and their love of life. They heard about some of my own hiking and biking adventures and my love of life. We sat around that picnic table long after the sun set sharing stories and a little bourbon. I felt a real connection to these Virginians. It was the perfect ending to a beautiful day on the trail.
One night I camped beside the C&O Canal along with two gentlemen and a woman from central Virginia. They were biking long days so they could finish the whole 350 miles from Pittsburgh to DC in just five days. They were pumped but tired, clearly proud of themselves for keeping up their speed. I made several attempts to engage them in conversation, but apparently all they could think about was their great achievements. I turned in early and was gone from the campsite before they awoke in the morning. I saw them in passing the next day and we exchanged pleasantries.
The next night I found myself camped next to the canal with four gentlemen and a woman from rural eastern Virginia. They were among the rare hikers on a predominantly biking route. It was their first day of a five day section hike. They had just walked ten miles and they were exhausted, but easy conversation ensued. I learned about their relationships with each other, their working lives, the geography of their homeland, and their love of life. They heard about some of my own hiking and biking adventures and my love of life. We sat around that picnic table long after the sun set sharing stories and a little bourbon. I felt a real connection to these Virginians. It was the perfect ending to a beautiful day on the trail.
The Clean Potomac
Carroll Valley, PA
When the sun is low in the sky it can shine on the surface of the river in such a way that you can clearly see the bottom: vegetation lined up with the current, clinging to mud and sand, with the occasional branch from some long forgotten tree. I never expected to see all the way to the bottom of the Potomac River. Perhaps all of the government's efforts to reduce agricultural runoff have met with satisfactory results. But also, the river seems very shallow right now. In fact, while I was camping at the water's edge just downstream from Williamsport, I saw two all-terrain vehicles make it all the way across to the West Virginia side.
Just fifteen miles downstream from the fordable Potomac is the Big Slackwater, miles of water kept deep by dam 4. Here, the cliffs come so close to the river that the nineteenth century engineers decided not to dig a canal at all, but to route barges into the river instead. When I came through there four years ago the towpath along Big Slackwater had washed and I had to take a long detour while contractors were building a new, flood-resistant towpath. That project is now finished and it is a delight to ride along a hard and smooth pathway between the cliffs and the great Potomac.
When the sun is low in the sky it can shine on the surface of the river in such a way that you can clearly see the bottom: vegetation lined up with the current, clinging to mud and sand, with the occasional branch from some long forgotten tree. I never expected to see all the way to the bottom of the Potomac River. Perhaps all of the government's efforts to reduce agricultural runoff have met with satisfactory results. But also, the river seems very shallow right now. In fact, while I was camping at the water's edge just downstream from Williamsport, I saw two all-terrain vehicles make it all the way across to the West Virginia side.
Just fifteen miles downstream from the fordable Potomac is the Big Slackwater, miles of water kept deep by dam 4. Here, the cliffs come so close to the river that the nineteenth century engineers decided not to dig a canal at all, but to route barges into the river instead. When I came through there four years ago the towpath along Big Slackwater had washed and I had to take a long detour while contractors were building a new, flood-resistant towpath. That project is now finished and it is a delight to ride along a hard and smooth pathway between the cliffs and the great Potomac.
Friday, September 26, 2014
Visiting Tim
Cumberland, MD
I can remember clearly the day I met Tim Snyder. It was fifty years ago this month in French Class. My first semester as a member of the class of 1968. I was telling some girl about my adventures as a college dropout and Tim was listening in. Before long Tim and I were not only talking about adventures but experiencing them. He taught me how to sail and introduced me to caving. We both joined the bagpipe band and piped our way across North Carolina. We drove to Montreal in my VW over Christmas break.
Yesterday I paid Tim a visit at his home in Frostburg. It seems that whenever we get together we start right in where we left off, as though no time had passed at all. But this time he described to me how his girlfriend Nancy saved his life by getting to the hospital when he was having a heart attack. Then the same night she died in a tragic head on collision on her way hoe from the hospital. I shared his trauma and his grieving, but I am amazed at how well he seems to be holding up under the weight of it all.
It is so rewarding to me to have long term friendships. I feel blessed to have Tim and friends like him in my life. It is a web that binds us all together and the longer we live the stronger it seems to get.
I can remember clearly the day I met Tim Snyder. It was fifty years ago this month in French Class. My first semester as a member of the class of 1968. I was telling some girl about my adventures as a college dropout and Tim was listening in. Before long Tim and I were not only talking about adventures but experiencing them. He taught me how to sail and introduced me to caving. We both joined the bagpipe band and piped our way across North Carolina. We drove to Montreal in my VW over Christmas break.
Yesterday I paid Tim a visit at his home in Frostburg. It seems that whenever we get together we start right in where we left off, as though no time had passed at all. But this time he described to me how his girlfriend Nancy saved his life by getting to the hospital when he was having a heart attack. Then the same night she died in a tragic head on collision on her way hoe from the hospital. I shared his trauma and his grieving, but I am amazed at how well he seems to be holding up under the weight of it all.
It is so rewarding to me to have long term friendships. I feel blessed to have Tim and friends like him in my life. It is a web that binds us all together and the longer we live the stronger it seems to get.
Thursday, September 25, 2014
Busy Railroads
Frostburg, MD
I used to think that railroads were an obsolete mode of transportation, but just a few minutes on the GAP trail proves otherwise. The bike trail parallels active railroads all the way from Pittsburgh to DC. And are they busy! All night long the trains clank and clatter, the ground shakes, and the whistles blow. You see miles of coal cars loaded with fossil fuel. You see miles of auto carriers filled with the latest models of products from the American automotive industry. Tank cars, box cars, and empty cars going back to be refilled. All night long.
When I rode this trail four years ago they were removing the top of a mountain over a tunnel and laying it to one side. Why? The tunnel was too low to allow double decker trains to pass through. Now the tunnel is gone, there being sky where the mountain used to be. Containers on flat cars are stacked one on top of the other so each train can now carry twice as much cargo. Yes, I would say the railroad industry is doing just fine.
I used to think that railroads were an obsolete mode of transportation, but just a few minutes on the GAP trail proves otherwise. The bike trail parallels active railroads all the way from Pittsburgh to DC. And are they busy! All night long the trains clank and clatter, the ground shakes, and the whistles blow. You see miles of coal cars loaded with fossil fuel. You see miles of auto carriers filled with the latest models of products from the American automotive industry. Tank cars, box cars, and empty cars going back to be refilled. All night long.
When I rode this trail four years ago they were removing the top of a mountain over a tunnel and laying it to one side. Why? The tunnel was too low to allow double decker trains to pass through. Now the tunnel is gone, there being sky where the mountain used to be. Containers on flat cars are stacked one on top of the other so each train can now carry twice as much cargo. Yes, I would say the railroad industry is doing just fine.
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
A Rail Trail at Last
Confluence,PA
The GAP (Great Allegheny Passage) is a dream come true. There is no traffic except for hikers and bikers. The trail is wide and smooth, mostly cinders. It slopes very gradually up to the Eastern Contintal Divide but the incline is hardly noticeable - effortless biking. There are towns now and then for re-supplying. I even made friends with some other long distance bikers also riding to DC. Biking doesn't get much better than this.
When I was here in 2010 I remember the Dravo campsite, the last one before arriving in Pittsburgh. I stopped there for a night and rode into the city and back the next day, giving me two nights at Dravo. The Boy Scouts maintain the place, including keeping the lawns mowed and the picnic tables spotless. But this time around I found that they have since built a shelter, just like those on the AT except bran new and clean. This was my first "legal" campsite since I got on my bike three weeks ago. By legal I mean you are supposed to camp there. I found it to be a beautiful and relaxing place to spend the night.
The GAP (Great Allegheny Passage) is a dream come true. There is no traffic except for hikers and bikers. The trail is wide and smooth, mostly cinders. It slopes very gradually up to the Eastern Contintal Divide but the incline is hardly noticeable - effortless biking. There are towns now and then for re-supplying. I even made friends with some other long distance bikers also riding to DC. Biking doesn't get much better than this.
When I was here in 2010 I remember the Dravo campsite, the last one before arriving in Pittsburgh. I stopped there for a night and rode into the city and back the next day, giving me two nights at Dravo. The Boy Scouts maintain the place, including keeping the lawns mowed and the picnic tables spotless. But this time around I found that they have since built a shelter, just like those on the AT except bran new and clean. This was my first "legal" campsite since I got on my bike three weeks ago. By legal I mean you are supposed to camp there. I found it to be a beautiful and relaxing place to spend the night.
Monday, September 22, 2014
Great Allegheny Passage
McKeesport, PA
The ride from Erie, PA, to Pittsburgh was entirely on the Long Black Ribbon. Lots of traffic, between cities there were lots of farms, and it got hillier and hillier the farther south I went. I walked my bike almost as much as I did in Vermont. But I made it to Pittsburgh alive and in record time. I did some errands, crossed the rivers, and finally got myself onto a genuine rail-trail, the Great Allegheny Passage. This dedicated bike path goes from Pittsburgh to Cumberland, MD, where it connects to the C&O Canal towpath that goes to Washington, DC and home.
I rode that route from DC to Pittsburgh and back in 2010 and enjoyed it thoroughly. But the last four miles into Pittsburgh wasn't finished yet, so there was some awful road riding with no shoulders and winding through railroad yards. But now, four years later, that last bit of the GAP is paved and fenced all the way to downtown. What a tremendous improvement. My thanks go out to all those fine people involved in finishing that project.
The ride from Erie, PA, to Pittsburgh was entirely on the Long Black Ribbon. Lots of traffic, between cities there were lots of farms, and it got hillier and hillier the farther south I went. I walked my bike almost as much as I did in Vermont. But I made it to Pittsburgh alive and in record time. I did some errands, crossed the rivers, and finally got myself onto a genuine rail-trail, the Great Allegheny Passage. This dedicated bike path goes from Pittsburgh to Cumberland, MD, where it connects to the C&O Canal towpath that goes to Washington, DC and home.
I rode that route from DC to Pittsburgh and back in 2010 and enjoyed it thoroughly. But the last four miles into Pittsburgh wasn't finished yet, so there was some awful road riding with no shoulders and winding through railroad yards. But now, four years later, that last bit of the GAP is paved and fenced all the way to downtown. What a tremendous improvement. My thanks go out to all those fine people involved in finishing that project.
Thursday, September 18, 2014
Erie Canals
Hamburg, NY
There are three Erie Canals. The earliest one, known as Clinton's Ditch, was built in the early nineteenth century. It provided cheap transportation of goods and materials for the first time between the Atlantic Ocean and the Great Lakes. It was such a success they built another canal roughly parallel to it, which they call the expanded Erie Canal. It was straighter, wider, deeper and had fewer locks. It was finished forty years later, at the time of the Civil War. Then in the twentieth Century they built yet another wider, straighter and deeper canal which they now call the New York State Barge Canal. It is still in operation today.
The Canalway Trail extends over three hundred miles from Albany to Buffalo and follows one or the other of the three canals for most of its length. It is sometimes paved, sometimes a cinder track, and sometimes nonexistent. I picked up a map of the canal system at one of the locks and found it essential when trying to find my way through cities and towns where the canalway is unmarked, and for the road-rides where the trail isn't finished yet.
Getting off the highway onto dedicated hiker-biker trail was a delight. After all my complaining about the Long Black Ribbon I realized that the canalway has a lot in common with the highway. It is long and black. The big difference is the absence of traffic. Even the side roads on the canalway didn't bother me. So I am realizing that it is the close proximity to sixty mile per hour cars and trucks that bothered me the most. Sharing the road with families out for a Sunday drive or farmers on their way to their fields wasn't a problem, but Eddie Eighteen-Wheeler with his pedal to the metal certainly was.
There are three Erie Canals. The earliest one, known as Clinton's Ditch, was built in the early nineteenth century. It provided cheap transportation of goods and materials for the first time between the Atlantic Ocean and the Great Lakes. It was such a success they built another canal roughly parallel to it, which they call the expanded Erie Canal. It was straighter, wider, deeper and had fewer locks. It was finished forty years later, at the time of the Civil War. Then in the twentieth Century they built yet another wider, straighter and deeper canal which they now call the New York State Barge Canal. It is still in operation today.
The Canalway Trail extends over three hundred miles from Albany to Buffalo and follows one or the other of the three canals for most of its length. It is sometimes paved, sometimes a cinder track, and sometimes nonexistent. I picked up a map of the canal system at one of the locks and found it essential when trying to find my way through cities and towns where the canalway is unmarked, and for the road-rides where the trail isn't finished yet.
Getting off the highway onto dedicated hiker-biker trail was a delight. After all my complaining about the Long Black Ribbon I realized that the canalway has a lot in common with the highway. It is long and black. The big difference is the absence of traffic. Even the side roads on the canalway didn't bother me. So I am realizing that it is the close proximity to sixty mile per hour cars and trucks that bothered me the most. Sharing the road with families out for a Sunday drive or farmers on their way to their fields wasn't a problem, but Eddie Eighteen-Wheeler with his pedal to the metal certainly was.
Wednesday, September 17, 2014
Men in Blue
Holley, NY
The canalway trail near Rochester is a sight to behold. The trail itself is paved, manicured, and clean. Large houses with grand lawns line the banks on both sides of the canal. The towns have trendy little shops that beckon the tourists inside. It was getting late when I came upon a wooded area near Perinton and I soon found a seldom used trail leading off the the side through the woods. I went back far enough to be out of sight and set up my hammock. Since I was so close to town I took a little walk before settling in for the night. That's one thing I never did on the bike trail before. Soon after I got myself comfortably into my sleeping bag, the sun having just set, a young man and his dog came down the seldom used trail and seemed startled to see me camped there. But the man said nothing and continued on his way. An hour later I was awakened by two very bright lights shining at me and a gruff voice calling out. This turned out to be two officers from the Monroe County Sheriff's office responding to an alert that that nefarious homeless person they had been hunting for weeks was now holed up in the woods near Perinton. The inevitable questions and terse answers followed, but before long the lawmen realized that I was no threat at all. Just an aged adventurer trying to get some sleep while on the trail. After they assured themselves that I would be gone in the morning they wished me luck on the rest of my journey and departed in the night.
I had feared being caught by cops, but when it actually happened it turned out to be a non-event. I am beginning to think that that which is most feared is really not worth fretting over.
The canalway trail near Rochester is a sight to behold. The trail itself is paved, manicured, and clean. Large houses with grand lawns line the banks on both sides of the canal. The towns have trendy little shops that beckon the tourists inside. It was getting late when I came upon a wooded area near Perinton and I soon found a seldom used trail leading off the the side through the woods. I went back far enough to be out of sight and set up my hammock. Since I was so close to town I took a little walk before settling in for the night. That's one thing I never did on the bike trail before. Soon after I got myself comfortably into my sleeping bag, the sun having just set, a young man and his dog came down the seldom used trail and seemed startled to see me camped there. But the man said nothing and continued on his way. An hour later I was awakened by two very bright lights shining at me and a gruff voice calling out. This turned out to be two officers from the Monroe County Sheriff's office responding to an alert that that nefarious homeless person they had been hunting for weeks was now holed up in the woods near Perinton. The inevitable questions and terse answers followed, but before long the lawmen realized that I was no threat at all. Just an aged adventurer trying to get some sleep while on the trail. After they assured themselves that I would be gone in the morning they wished me luck on the rest of my journey and departed in the night.
I had feared being caught by cops, but when it actually happened it turned out to be a non-event. I am beginning to think that that which is most feared is really not worth fretting over.
Monday, September 15, 2014
Lady Long Rider
Syracuse, NY
It rained all day on my way into Rome, NY. I was cold and wet, looking for a place to get out of the rain and fix a hot meal, when I came upon Erie Canal Village, a museum village. And there I spied a pavilion, picnic tables under a roof, adjacent to their social hall, so I pulled to have a look, intending to have dinner and get back on the road. But the pavilion was not empty. On one of the tables sat a bright and lively woman with an outdoorsy look about her. Her tent was set up under the roof, and her two horses grazed off to the side. I asked if she would be spending the night there and she replied "yes, and the night before as well". She invited me to join her.
You may have heard of this fascinating person. She has appeared in the media to tell about crossing the continent by horse. She has logged more than 20,000 miles since 2005 and isn't finished yet. Her current plan is to ride to Maine to winter there before heading to the west coast through Canada. We shared stories about how people respond to nomads like us. Her adventuring self speaking loudly and clearly to the wanderer in me. I ended up spending the night in the warm, dry social hall. I even got to watch two beautiful horses while Bernice got a ride into town to use the wi-fi at McDonalds.
Lady Long Rider is someone I will not soon forget. A unique and inspiring individual to say the least. You can find out more about Lady Long Rider at www.endeofthetrail.com.
It rained all day on my way into Rome, NY. I was cold and wet, looking for a place to get out of the rain and fix a hot meal, when I came upon Erie Canal Village, a museum village. And there I spied a pavilion, picnic tables under a roof, adjacent to their social hall, so I pulled to have a look, intending to have dinner and get back on the road. But the pavilion was not empty. On one of the tables sat a bright and lively woman with an outdoorsy look about her. Her tent was set up under the roof, and her two horses grazed off to the side. I asked if she would be spending the night there and she replied "yes, and the night before as well". She invited me to join her.
You may have heard of this fascinating person. She has appeared in the media to tell about crossing the continent by horse. She has logged more than 20,000 miles since 2005 and isn't finished yet. Her current plan is to ride to Maine to winter there before heading to the west coast through Canada. We shared stories about how people respond to nomads like us. Her adventuring self speaking loudly and clearly to the wanderer in me. I ended up spending the night in the warm, dry social hall. I even got to watch two beautiful horses while Bernice got a ride into town to use the wi-fi at McDonalds.
Lady Long Rider is someone I will not soon forget. A unique and inspiring individual to say the least. You can find out more about Lady Long Rider at www.endeofthetrail.com.
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Riding Through Vermont
Troy, NY.
West of Keene, NH, the sun was drifting downward so I started looking for a place to stop for the night. I spied a hemlock forest with a pine needle floor, my favorite, so I pulled off the road and set up my little campsite. Then I noticed that my hammock was pitched right next to a well marked and well traveled mountain bike track. So I hiked that trail. It went back and forth for miles. Very nice. Back at my night spot, two coeds came down the trail on their mountain bikes, standing on the pedals, bumping along, and giggling. They greeted me cheerily and wished me a good campout. I didn't feel at all out of place in this forest. Later three men followed, quite enjoying the rough track. I've never done more than a few feet of mountain biking, but it might be something to try some day. It would be a lot different from the kind of road biking I'm doing.
In Brattleboro, VT, I got to talking with a woman in line at the super market. When she heard that I was biking from Maine to Florida she asked if I was trying to prove something. My immediate reaction was No! This is a life-style for me. This is what I want to be doing with my time. This is where I want to be. But upon thinking about her question it occurred to me that perhaps on one level there is something I am trying to prove. Could it be that I am trying to prove that it is possible and enjoyable to live a life away from the hectic and complicated life of the mainstream?
I crossed the entire state of Vermont in eight hours (8:15 AM to 4:15 PM). I rode slowly, stopped a lot, walked up many a mountain and sped down the other side. My GPS tells me my maximum speed was 37 MPH. My, I hope that wasn't in a 35 zone. I went through the quaint village of Wilmington, past the beautiful lake of Harrington Reservoir, over Hogback Mountain with its lengthy view, across the Appalachian Trail where I was more than two months ago, and through the handsome town of Bennington. These brief stops lifted my soul, but between them was nothing but the Long Black Ribbon, which didn't do a thing for me. The road itself has no aesthetic appeal; it is dirty, noisy, and at times hazardous. There is nothing uplifting about it except for the elevation changes. I'm beginning to think that the road has only one positive purpose - to get from one place to another quickly. Must I?
One way to get away from the Long Black Ribbon would be to stick to dedicated bike trails, rail trails, and canal trails. Actually, I was anticipating this, so I had in mind to take the Erie Canalway from here to Buffalo the Great Allegheny Passage from Pittsburgh to Cumberland, MD, and then the C&O Canal into DC. I met an Albany man at a rest stop near Portland, ME, who was trying to tell me a good way to get onto the Erie Canalway, so that's where I'm heading now.
West of Keene, NH, the sun was drifting downward so I started looking for a place to stop for the night. I spied a hemlock forest with a pine needle floor, my favorite, so I pulled off the road and set up my little campsite. Then I noticed that my hammock was pitched right next to a well marked and well traveled mountain bike track. So I hiked that trail. It went back and forth for miles. Very nice. Back at my night spot, two coeds came down the trail on their mountain bikes, standing on the pedals, bumping along, and giggling. They greeted me cheerily and wished me a good campout. I didn't feel at all out of place in this forest. Later three men followed, quite enjoying the rough track. I've never done more than a few feet of mountain biking, but it might be something to try some day. It would be a lot different from the kind of road biking I'm doing.
In Brattleboro, VT, I got to talking with a woman in line at the super market. When she heard that I was biking from Maine to Florida she asked if I was trying to prove something. My immediate reaction was No! This is a life-style for me. This is what I want to be doing with my time. This is where I want to be. But upon thinking about her question it occurred to me that perhaps on one level there is something I am trying to prove. Could it be that I am trying to prove that it is possible and enjoyable to live a life away from the hectic and complicated life of the mainstream?
I crossed the entire state of Vermont in eight hours (8:15 AM to 4:15 PM). I rode slowly, stopped a lot, walked up many a mountain and sped down the other side. My GPS tells me my maximum speed was 37 MPH. My, I hope that wasn't in a 35 zone. I went through the quaint village of Wilmington, past the beautiful lake of Harrington Reservoir, over Hogback Mountain with its lengthy view, across the Appalachian Trail where I was more than two months ago, and through the handsome town of Bennington. These brief stops lifted my soul, but between them was nothing but the Long Black Ribbon, which didn't do a thing for me. The road itself has no aesthetic appeal; it is dirty, noisy, and at times hazardous. There is nothing uplifting about it except for the elevation changes. I'm beginning to think that the road has only one positive purpose - to get from one place to another quickly. Must I?
One way to get away from the Long Black Ribbon would be to stick to dedicated bike trails, rail trails, and canal trails. Actually, I was anticipating this, so I had in mind to take the Erie Canalway from here to Buffalo the Great Allegheny Passage from Pittsburgh to Cumberland, MD, and then the C&O Canal into DC. I met an Albany man at a rest stop near Portland, ME, who was trying to tell me a good way to get onto the Erie Canalway, so that's where I'm heading now.
Tuesday, September 9, 2014
Training the Bike
Keene, NH.
I may have told you that my bike has the bad habit of turning into diners, restaurants and cafes whenever it passes one. Well, I can't afford such luxuries, so I have been training it to pass them by without complaining. And I have met with great success in that regard. I have been able to stay away from places that serve prepared food and eat entirely from my larder of groceries, but I am allowing myself the luxury of coffee and pastry in the morning at a convenience store and some ice cream in the afternoon. I have also so far been able to refrain from patronizing places of lodging. The campsites I have found have been perfectly satisfactory.
I've been off the trail for a week now and I have been really missing the wilderness. Too much traffic, noise, congestion, people, buildings, and roadway (which I call the Long Black Ribbon). Not enough forest, streams, lakes and natural settings. But this afternoon as I was riding into Keene on Route 9, I saw a turnoff on a wooded stretch of road so I turned off to have a look. There, hidden by trees, I saw a babbling brook with no houses along it. I made my way down to it and, except for the sound of traffic, I felt like I could be back on the trail. It was so pleasant! I had my lunch, refilled my water bottles, sat by the rapids for awhile, then got back on the road. I would have spent the night there except it was too early in the day for that. It's nice to know that the Long Black Ribbon can take me to natural places now and then.
I may have told you that my bike has the bad habit of turning into diners, restaurants and cafes whenever it passes one. Well, I can't afford such luxuries, so I have been training it to pass them by without complaining. And I have met with great success in that regard. I have been able to stay away from places that serve prepared food and eat entirely from my larder of groceries, but I am allowing myself the luxury of coffee and pastry in the morning at a convenience store and some ice cream in the afternoon. I have also so far been able to refrain from patronizing places of lodging. The campsites I have found have been perfectly satisfactory.
I've been off the trail for a week now and I have been really missing the wilderness. Too much traffic, noise, congestion, people, buildings, and roadway (which I call the Long Black Ribbon). Not enough forest, streams, lakes and natural settings. But this afternoon as I was riding into Keene on Route 9, I saw a turnoff on a wooded stretch of road so I turned off to have a look. There, hidden by trees, I saw a babbling brook with no houses along it. I made my way down to it and, except for the sound of traffic, I felt like I could be back on the trail. It was so pleasant! I had my lunch, refilled my water bottles, sat by the rapids for awhile, then got back on the road. I would have spent the night there except it was too early in the day for that. It's nice to know that the Long Black Ribbon can take me to natural places now and then.
Sunday, September 7, 2014
Steak and Lobster
Orrs Island, Maine.
I left the bike shop in Brunswick, Maine, freshly equipped and ready for adventure, and I passed right through the middle of the Bowdoin College campus. The air was clear and the sky was entirely blue as students all across the green read textbooks with yellow markers in hand, tossed frisbees to each other, talked on their cell phones, and did what students do on a warm, sunny day early in the semester. Very pleasant. I thought of my niece Amy, who graduated from there a few years back, and imagined her doing the same kinds of things on the lawns. Hi Amy!
I headed down to the coast along steep, narrow, winding roads to visit my college friend Jane on Orrs Island. And what a hostess she was! I got to walk all over the island on well-maintained forest trails as well as a driving tour of the area. I had a long talk with a trail club member who is planning to hike the AT next year. We ate steak and lobster. We looked at ancient college yearbooks and photos. I got a foot rub and drank champagne while talking to mutual friends on the phone.
Jane's family has a place on the water. I walked the one mile driveway beneath dense conifers. I walked the one mile ocean frontage, stepping from one rock to another. We sat on the porch admiring the offshore islands as the osprey flew here and there. We talked about natural beauty the world over and how it stirs our souls. Yes, Maine is the best state of all. Thank you Jane.
I left the bike shop in Brunswick, Maine, freshly equipped and ready for adventure, and I passed right through the middle of the Bowdoin College campus. The air was clear and the sky was entirely blue as students all across the green read textbooks with yellow markers in hand, tossed frisbees to each other, talked on their cell phones, and did what students do on a warm, sunny day early in the semester. Very pleasant. I thought of my niece Amy, who graduated from there a few years back, and imagined her doing the same kinds of things on the lawns. Hi Amy!
I headed down to the coast along steep, narrow, winding roads to visit my college friend Jane on Orrs Island. And what a hostess she was! I got to walk all over the island on well-maintained forest trails as well as a driving tour of the area. I had a long talk with a trail club member who is planning to hike the AT next year. We ate steak and lobster. We looked at ancient college yearbooks and photos. I got a foot rub and drank champagne while talking to mutual friends on the phone.
Jane's family has a place on the water. I walked the one mile driveway beneath dense conifers. I walked the one mile ocean frontage, stepping from one rock to another. We sat on the porch admiring the offshore islands as the osprey flew here and there. We talked about natural beauty the world over and how it stirs our souls. Yes, Maine is the best state of all. Thank you Jane.
Thursday, September 4, 2014
Hobo Camping
Pittsfield, Maine.
Growing up I was intrigued by the stereotype of the hobo. My father called him a bum or a tramp. He was dirty, smelly, and unshaven. He would heat up cans of pork and beans over an open fire down by the railroad. He wouldn't stay very long in any one spot. He would keep movin' on.
I never felt like a hobo on the Appalachian Trail but I certainly do on the bicycle. On the AT everyone expects you to lok disheveled and camp in the woods. In towns along the road nobody does. But I'm really enjoying this. Thjere's something quite stimulating about hiding in the woods at night. It has a slightly illicit feeling to it. And I expect I'll continue to get that thrill until I get arrested one of these days.
Growing up I was intrigued by the stereotype of the hobo. My father called him a bum or a tramp. He was dirty, smelly, and unshaven. He would heat up cans of pork and beans over an open fire down by the railroad. He wouldn't stay very long in any one spot. He would keep movin' on.
I never felt like a hobo on the Appalachian Trail but I certainly do on the bicycle. On the AT everyone expects you to lok disheveled and camp in the woods. In towns along the road nobody does. But I'm really enjoying this. Thjere's something quite stimulating about hiding in the woods at night. It has a slightly illicit feeling to it. And I expect I'll continue to get that thrill until I get arrested one of these days.
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
The Sendoff
Millinocket, Maine.
I finished hiking the Appalachian Trail on Labor Day and yesterday I picked up my bike and started south. Here is a photo of my sendoff and an article I wrote for the local paper.
OLD HIKER BIKES SOUTH
The staff at Crandall's Hardware in East Millinocket have received a crate from Maryland containing a bicycle. It is an ordinary bike, a hybrid, which looks like it has seen a lot of use.
The owner of the bike in question is a 70-year-old retired software engineer who has just completed a 2185 mile thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail from Springer Mountain, Georgia, to Mt. Katahdin, in Baxter State Park.
So why the bike? He is planning to ride it to Florida to hike the 1300 mile Florida Trail, biking from one hike to another.
Our thru-hiker's name is Dave Roberts of Adelphi, Maryland, but his fellow backpackers call him Elusive. He says he picked his own trail name, but people he meets keep finding reasons why they think it fits: "He's gone before we wake up in the morning." "He doesn't stay with the same group all the time." He disappears on side excursions." "His name is hard to remember - it is elusive."
When asked what he liked best about the trail he was quick to say it was the variety. "From the steep, rocky mountains of the Smokies and the Whites to walking through level corn fields near Boiling Springs, Pennsylvania. The weather ranged from 10 degrees in NC in March to 90 degrees in NY in June. There are lots of different kinds of people, too. From teenagers to retirees. From ultra-light minimalists to those who prefer to carry all their comforts with them. No two people are the same. No two days are the same. I like that."
So how long did it take you to hike all that way?
"I started on March 9th, so it took less than six months, but I took two weeks off in July to hike the entire Long Trail in Vermont. That was a hoot. I'm glad I did that."
Did you find that being 70 years old was a disadvantage?
"No, not at all. As long as your body parts are all working, it's your attitude that keeps you going, not your age. I do hike slower than most thru-hikers, and some of that may be related to my age, but I really don't want to walk any faster. To me it's not a race, but a way of life. I want to see it all and enjoy it all."
How will biking to Florida be different from hiking to Maine?
"First of all I won't be in the wilderness. I'll be surrounded by cars and buildings much of the time. And diners. I will have to pass by diners. I love eating in diners, but I can't afford to eat out all the time. I'll have to develop some self-discipline. Self control. That will be tough, but I think I can do it.
"But what I'll really miss is the sense of community. Thru-hikers on the AT are like family. They would do anything for each other. But out on a bike there won't be hundreds of people all going the same place. I'll be on my own."
Katie Crandall-Liba of Crandall's Hardware tells us "we uncrated the bike, re-assembled it, tuned it up, attached the panniers and lights, and sent Elusive on his way with a little champagne party. He insisted on that and paid for it himself."
They will be following his adventures on www.elusiveonbike.blogspot.com.
I finished hiking the Appalachian Trail on Labor Day and yesterday I picked up my bike and started south. Here is a photo of my sendoff and an article I wrote for the local paper.
OLD HIKER BIKES SOUTH
The staff at Crandall's Hardware in East Millinocket have received a crate from Maryland containing a bicycle. It is an ordinary bike, a hybrid, which looks like it has seen a lot of use.
The owner of the bike in question is a 70-year-old retired software engineer who has just completed a 2185 mile thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail from Springer Mountain, Georgia, to Mt. Katahdin, in Baxter State Park.
So why the bike? He is planning to ride it to Florida to hike the 1300 mile Florida Trail, biking from one hike to another.
Our thru-hiker's name is Dave Roberts of Adelphi, Maryland, but his fellow backpackers call him Elusive. He says he picked his own trail name, but people he meets keep finding reasons why they think it fits: "He's gone before we wake up in the morning." "He doesn't stay with the same group all the time." He disappears on side excursions." "His name is hard to remember - it is elusive."
When asked what he liked best about the trail he was quick to say it was the variety. "From the steep, rocky mountains of the Smokies and the Whites to walking through level corn fields near Boiling Springs, Pennsylvania. The weather ranged from 10 degrees in NC in March to 90 degrees in NY in June. There are lots of different kinds of people, too. From teenagers to retirees. From ultra-light minimalists to those who prefer to carry all their comforts with them. No two people are the same. No two days are the same. I like that."
So how long did it take you to hike all that way?
"I started on March 9th, so it took less than six months, but I took two weeks off in July to hike the entire Long Trail in Vermont. That was a hoot. I'm glad I did that."
Did you find that being 70 years old was a disadvantage?
"No, not at all. As long as your body parts are all working, it's your attitude that keeps you going, not your age. I do hike slower than most thru-hikers, and some of that may be related to my age, but I really don't want to walk any faster. To me it's not a race, but a way of life. I want to see it all and enjoy it all."
How will biking to Florida be different from hiking to Maine?
"First of all I won't be in the wilderness. I'll be surrounded by cars and buildings much of the time. And diners. I will have to pass by diners. I love eating in diners, but I can't afford to eat out all the time. I'll have to develop some self-discipline. Self control. That will be tough, but I think I can do it.
"But what I'll really miss is the sense of community. Thru-hikers on the AT are like family. They would do anything for each other. But out on a bike there won't be hundreds of people all going the same place. I'll be on my own."
Katie Crandall-Liba of Crandall's Hardware tells us "we uncrated the bike, re-assembled it, tuned it up, attached the panniers and lights, and sent Elusive on his way with a little champagne party. He insisted on that and paid for it himself."
They will be following his adventures on www.elusiveonbike.blogspot.com.
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
The Plan
I am expecting to finish my northbound thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail around Labor Day. When I do finish I am planning to ride my bicycle to Florida so I can then hike the 1300 Florida Trail. The bike is now being shipped from Maryland to Crandall's Hardware in East Millinocket, Maine. So that's what I have in mind. Stay tuned.
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