To Cumberland

Riding 60 miles a day is a lot. But riding 5 miles at after already riding 55 is the worst.

We started our journey from Pittsburgh. Despite that our airbnb was very close to the GAP trail, I insisted that we double back and ride for 15 minutes to the GAP terminus at Point State Park. We had seen the terminus from afar having drinks outside with Ashley the day before.

Before we even made it to the terminus, our troubles began. Pablo lost a bolt — one of three — from his front rack. We stopped at the end of the bridge, where he purloined a bolt from somewhere else on his bike to fix the rack. A fellow cyclist riding by stopped to see if we were OK. 

“Where ya heading?” he asked. “DC?” 

Only in Pittsburgh… 

We made it to the GAP terminus and officially started our journey. Before long, in Braddock, Pablo would lose a second bolt. He purloined yet another bolt from elsewhere on his bike to fix it. He lost a third bolt from the top of the rack “where the Puerto Ricans were.” 

He used straps to fix it. 

I don’t remember where the Puerto Ricans were, but Pablo was surprised to see Puerto Rican flags in a window we passed. 

The GAP does not pass through ethnically diverse neighborhoods, but we did go through a diversity of places. From the city to suburban strip malls to industrial areas to rural farmland. Mostly, we were riding through a thick canopy of trees. 

What is five miles when you’re riding 60 a day? A lot, when you’re five miles away from your first stop, Connellsville. I don’t know if it was a runner’s high or what, but I teared up when we finally reached the town. I was so happy to see Connellsville, “said no one, ever,” said Ashley’s mom, Patty. 

Ashley and Patty met us in Connellsville that night — it’s a small town in between Butler and Point Marion. We went to Bud Murphy’s, where you can smoke inside, which I love, but Patty doesn’t. 

I ordered a fish sandwich and glazed Brussels sprouts. When the food came out, the waitress called me a “healthy queen!” The fish was battered and deep fried. The Brussels sprouts were glazed with something that definitely was not healthy. Ashely gave me some of her steamed broccoli, she was the real healthy queen. 

The next day, we set out on another 60 mile ride. Destination: Meyersdale. 

It was the prettiest, yet hardest ride.

It was like riding in Bambi — we saw deer, bunnies, chipmunks and butterflies. For a few precious seconds, a deer trotted along the path we were riding on just ahead of us. Tulip trees formed a canopy overhead and dropped their brightly colored flowers all over the trail.

It was beautiful, but we were behind schedule, and I was worried we wouldn’t make it to Meyersdale before dark. We did, but we hurt, and I won’t begin to describe the state of the “cute hotel” we booked on Airbnb. (It was not cute.) 

We could not wait for our easy day. Our plan was to ride 30 miles on the third day. After a steady, uphill climb, we would finally hit the highest point of the GAP between Meyersdale and Cumberland. We had heard the 20+ mile descent into Cumberland was glorious, and it was. 

We stopped to look at snapping turtles laying eggs, we remarked on poor nest placement (one was smack dab in the middle of the trail). We rode over an iron bridge made in 1871. We rode through a few tunnels — one of them very long. We hit the Mason Dixon. 

We made it to the more populous area of Frostburg, Md. We went to the Japanese restaurant in town and had our first semblance of healthy food in a while. We learned about coal mining and road along a scenic railroad trail between Frostburg and Cumberland, descending all the way.

I dreamt that I had lost my bike and woke up in a panic.

Today, another 60-mile ride — our first day on the C&O.