Welcome to Part 2 of my 6-day bike tour from Washington D.C. to Pittsburgh. If you want to read about the complete route, my gear, and trip plans, check this post out. If you want to read Part 1 on the C&O Canal, go here.
Disclaimer: If you're coming here to find out information about the GAP and what to expect, I unfortunately can't provide that. My intention was to bike the GAP in its entirety, but significant detours, weather, and trail conditions had me heavily modify. As with all adventures, things don't always go according to plan, and you need to be OK with making changes on the fly. So, here is what happened to me on the GAP:
Day 4: Cumberland to Confluence (Mile 253)
(55 miles, 4754 ft of gain, Strava map)
I haven't gotten used to the darkness in the morning yet. Everything about my body screams stay in bed! and wait for the sunlight. But, the alarm goes off at 6 AM, and I check on the status of my wheel, hoping that it didn't flatten overnight. Fortunately, it held up, but the condition of my chain had me cringing. It was covered in dirt and the dreaded color orange, a symbol of rust or, hopefully in my case, residual clay from the previous day's detour. I lube up, anxious to get home and give it a thorough greasy spa treatment.
Before heading out, I take advantage of the breakfast hot waffles, coffee, and yogurt. Lingering to wait for the sunrise at 7:30 and for the temperatures rise, I eventually head out the door. I don't get far before I realize I left my food in the fridge and turn back, receiving the response "Oh dear God, you can't go without that!" from the older, sassy, dramatic man at the front desk.
I did my best to explore Cumberland for about a half hour, even though everything was closed. The lampposts and old-timey feel of the brick walkways gave it a special charm, and I knew this would be a bustling and darling place in the summer. When my tires met the bike trail again, I wasn't disappointed of my first GAP experience: it started as pavement and then turned into compact gravel, typical of a rail-to-trail. The route crossed train tracks often and dipped through a tunnel. As I slowly ascended in the morning, the snow on the ground transitioned from a few snowflakes, to a gentle dusting, to an inch of snow coating the whole trail. Where you're going, it'll stick, the bar owner's voice played in my head. My hope that he was wrong vanished as I settled into my new, snowy reality. Eventually, I reached the high point of Mount Savage. The elevation gain was slow and steady for 10-15 miles, and I briefly thought of how nice it would have been to be biking from Pittsburgh instead. I could have been going downhill this whole time! You're going the wrong way, the bar owner's voice interjected my thoughts again.
After Mount Savage, I entered Frostburg. The Savage Tunnel is closed until April and is impassible, so I had to create a route around, causing me to go into town. At the entrance to Frostburg, there were some neat bicycle-centered sculptures that were very welcoming. I didn’t get a chance to explore the town much, but it certainly had the potential to be a nice place for dining at restaurants and staying the night. The main street was sloped at an angle, foreshadowing that I had more climbing to do. From mile 15 to ~20, the grade became even steeper, and I had to dismount and walk a few times. The icy headwind had me bundling my face in my Buff, and I pushed to the top where I met the sign Little Savage Mountain Elevation 2810 ft. Everything was frosted over in a pun-y way (get it, Frostburg?), and snow was building on the ground. While the roads were technically clear, they were covered in loose gravel and salt, so biking downhill required some teeth clenching and icy wind burn. Back home in New York, a snow storm was ripping through the region, and the Allegheny Mountains weren't spared of this Nor'easter either. Perfect timing for a bike ride, eh?
I did re-enter the GAP around mile 25, and I was physically and emotionally ready for some flat riding. After adding all the extra layers of clothing I owned, I spent about 10 minutes pedaling down the GAP in frustration. The trail was soft and mushy but had a solid crust on the surface, topped with an inch of wet snow; a perfect dessert. Unfortunately, this made an awful bike trail. There were ruts that I couldn't see, and my front wheel would periodically catch them, causing my loaded rear to fishtail. I would spray mud, fight to stay upright, and I was going an embarrassing 4 mph. Looking at my watch, I realized I had only biked 30 miles, and it was after 12 PM, a rate that worried me for needing to travel 60 miles. The reality that my tires were not compatible with this section of the GAP disappointed me, and I didn't have any service to try to create a new route. I was cold, tired, and getting increasingly sad, asking myself why I was even doing this stupid thing. There was no way I could continue down the GAP in this section, so I backtracked to the main road. I biked for a little while until I found service, calling my boyfriend in mild hysterics. He helped me find a road route that would take me directly to my WarmShowers host's house for the night, and it was exactly what I needed. It would be hillier, but the pavement and hills were better than fishtailing my way slowly down the GAP for hours.
I was very excited for my WarmShowers arrangement for the night. An older couple was lending me their house for the night, but they were in Texas. So, I had the whole place to myself. Even better? The man arranged for a truck to be placed at the intersection of the GAP and a road to his house, so I could avoid biking a major hill to get there. The keys would be in the ignition, and I could drive to his house and then to his daughter's pub where they would treat me to dinner. In backpacking, we call these people Trail Angels and their gifts Trail Magic. This was more magical than I could have imagined. There was one problem: I had now decided to not bike the GAP, and my new road route had me passing his house in order to go retrieve the truck. While not ideal, I concluded it was still worth it.
My new road route also had a fun surprise. Without knowing it, I accidentally biked to the tallest point in Pennsylvania, Mount Davis. I should have suspected this was going to be hard because roads with the words Mount or Hill indicate exponential effort required. I didn't know the significance of this road until a sign pointed out that I had, in fact, made it to the highest point in my home state. Truly, only I would accidentally do something like this. At this moment in the day, I was going so painfully slow that I received some calls and messages, one person even ready to drive from Pittsburgh to find me. Are you okay??
I don't think the GPS is working...it says you are going extremely slow!
Yes I'm fine. No, it's working. Yes, I really am going that slow. I am walking, and this is really hard, thank you very much.
I thought things would get easier after summiting the mountain; I was only a few miles away. But, another road, High Point Road, kicked me while I was down. I was already tired from the climbs from Savage Mountain, Frostburg, and Mount Davis, but now I had to bike a long road with minimal winter maintenance. I gripped my handlebars and slipped and slid my way along this road for what seemed like hours. When hiking my bike uphill, my shoes had no traction, and I cried in frustration at the challenge of simply moving forward. The finish line was taunting me. On a nicer day, the country backroads and small lakes would be beautiful, but instead it felt like a frozen wasteland, a dog chased me down, and Amish stared at me, likely thinking I was dumb. It was fine, I was thinking that too.
Back on a salted and maintained road, I was just a mere mile from the truck. I descended a steep hill toward the Casselman River where it would be waiting for me at the junction of the GAP and the road. Except, when I got there, the truck wasn't there. I stood there in shock, unable to process what this meant. Breaking down in sobs, I hiked my bike back up the hill with the last bit of energy I had to find cell service where I called my WarmShowers host, informing him of the missing truck. Perplexed, he called his daughter and relayed the message to me that she put it further down the hill at a different parking spot.
I did get the truck, and I did drive to his house and then the pub (Front Porch Bar and Grill) where I ordered a bowl of chili, a burger, and a beer. I tried my best to stay awake and engage in conversation with the son-in-law who was very kind and soft-spoken. It took every ounce of my remaining energy to not fall asleep there at the bar. Back at the house, I was shocked to find that it was a stunning, wooden lodge. Two stories of beautifully carved wood, worldly decorations, and the typical items required for a lodge: stuffed animals everywhere. I really couldn't believe I had this whole place to myself. So, I showered, did some laundry which was all wet and muddy, and I promptly went to bed. Taking care of my bike was going to be a morning task.
I tried not to think of the following day. Before falling asleep, I looked out the window to see fresh snow falling from the sky. The forecast was calling for a few inches, and the high temperature was going to be at most 25F, below freezing. The wetness from today was surely going to be ice tomorrow, and I had another major uphill/downhill detour going through Ohiopyle. But, weather stations sometimes get it wrong, right?
Day 5: Confluence and a surprise rest day
I woke up in the morning at 7:30 and was nervous to look outside. Not too surprisingly, but disappointingly, there were at least 2 inches of fresh snow on the ground. It was Tuesday, and my plan was to get to Pittsburgh the following day on Wednesday. I had an Amtrak scheduled for Thursday morning at 5:20 AM, and I couldn't miss it. It was my luck that the weather was forecasted to be 45F on Wednesday and almost 60F and sunny on Thursday (after my tour had ended). But today? 20-25F and snowing. I contemplated rescheduling my Amtrak to Friday morning so that I could rest today and bike Wednesday and Thursday when the weather was warmer, but there were no available trains. After my awful day yesterday, I was nervous to be biking on icy roads. I couldn't bike on the GAP because there was an impassible detour in Ohiopyle, and my road reroute had me going over Sugarloaf Mountain where the road conditions and winter maintenance were unknown. On top of this, my left achilles was in pain, and I would surely get more injured if I biked this route. So, I made some calls trying to figure out what to do. My original goal was to get to Smithton, PA where my cousin in Mt. Pleasant would pick me up for the night and take me back in the morning. As I could no longer feasibly or safely bike there and make my Amtrak on Thursday, my cousin's husband came directly to Confluence to pick me up.
I was disappointed to be missing a significant portion of the trail, from Confluence to Smithton, about 50 miles. I recognized that I wouldn't be able to bike much of the GAP anyway due to the closures, but cutting out segments felt like cheating. On Thursday, I would be biking back to D.C. from Harper's Ferry, so the extra miles that day partially eased my guilt about losing miles today. Importantly, adventures don't always go according to plan, and I recognize that it's important to know when to continue and when to not, and to put health and safety first. So, I took a rest day, had a bath, and relaxed until noon. I spent some time exploring the lodge and admiring the neat artifacts that they casually had, like a 5 million year old fish fossil.
I biked a short, blistery-cold 5 miles into town and stopped at Mitch's Fuel and Food where Terry would pick me up. They had excellent sandwiches, and this would have been a great place to restock on snacks if I needed them. After I finished eating a panini, Terry arrived and shuttled me to safer grounds. Back in Mt. Pleasant, I went out to a tiny, local bar called Lobingier's with my cousin Kristin, and we bonded over beers and bought amazing pizza. I spent the evening icing my achilles and relaxing with a sweet little Pomeranian named Molly.
I was crossing my fingers that the GAP would be bikeable for my final day to Pittsburgh and that my achilles would allow me to make it there.
Day 6 West Newton to Pittsburgh, PA (Mile 345)
(31 miles, 400 ft of gain, Strava map)
In the morning, I had two cups of coffee and spent more time icing my achilles. Kristin made me a pickle care package for the road which was exactly the salty pick-me-up I needed. Instead of going to Smithton, Terry dropped me off in West Newton, resulting in an easy 30 miles to the finish line. I could definitely finish strong! My achilles was aching, but it wasn't getting worse. I could luckily still bike on it for the moment.
The sun was shining, and the snow disappeared from Mt Pleasant to West Newton. Getting back on the GAP boosted my mood, especially at seeing pavement. The pavement turned into compact gravel and then back to pavement as I neared Pittsburgh. I felt excited and motivated for the finish line and was able to bike to the end in only 2hr 45 mins. I crossed multiple bridges, passed many factories, and little signs welcomed me to McKeesport, West Mifflin, Homestead, and then Pittsburgh.
In a short time, I reached The Point, the place where the three rivers converge and the GAP comes to an end (or to a beginning if you are smarter than me). My Uncle Joe took off work like a crazy person to pick me up and take me and my Aunt Marge out for lunch. I desperately ordered a massive salad, craving vegetables that I lacked for 6 days. In the evening, I met up with my high school friend, Emily, and her husband, and we all ate delicious dessert and spent time catching up. For the night, I stayed with my Aunt and her partner, Doug, where I indulged in homemade, delicious tuna noodle casserole. I am very fortunate to have so many friends and family who live in Pittsburgh!
Day 7-8: Heading Home
My alarm went off at 4 AM, though I had been awake for a while. My Aunt Marge and Doug were already awake as well, and we sipped on coffee while the rest of Pittsburgh slept. My original plan was to bike three miles to the Amtrak station, but they graciously offered to drive me. After nearly missing my train but then finding out it was delayed 2 hours, I finally boarded and settled into a 6 hour ride back to Harper's Ferry. I stepped off the train to a sunny, bluebird, 60 degree day, and shook my head. When the tour ends, the weather becomes gorgeous, of course.
Biking backwards and in 20-degree warmer weather had me experiencing the C&O in a completely different way. The shops in Harper's Ferry were open, and people were touring, eating, and laughing. Not to mention, I was now biking with a net downhill, so I was practically flying on the trail. I put in about 30 miles until my brother picked me up in White's Ferry; this was my limit for my achilles for the day. Even though I missed the GAP from Confluence to West Newton, biking an extra 30 miles back to D.C. helped ease part of the [unnecessary] guilt of skimping on the miles. We ate calorie-dense sandwiches and fries and arrived in Bethesda around 6 PM. Shortly after, we got drinks at a bar and listened to karaoke, without participating.
The following morning on Friday (St. Patrick's Day!), I drove back to New York. As a person bearing the name Erin, it was my duty to listen to Irish music, and I obsessively binged the new Hozier songs that were released. I felt happy and proud of the solo bike ride that I did, and I concluded that I would definitely do it again...except maybe in the summer or fall instead.
Before getting completely home, I had a trip-planning meeting with my friend, Claire, and my boyfriend to go over our next big adventure. Within an hour of driving from D.C., I had purchased plane tickets to Geneva, Switzerland for June. The plan? I would bike from Geneva to Amsterdam while they would continue to the Arctic Circle. Yes, you can look forward to blog posts about that too!
Don't forget to check out the video and happy tailwinds!
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