Safely Finding Corona Therapy In Red River Gorge (Plus 15 Tips)

All I saw was icky germs with hiking poles, no way. No way we're hitting this trail. The pit welled in my stomach. We drove over 2 hours. Headed to Double Arch, my spouse and I turned off Mountain Parkway in Red River Gorge, flipped the 4-Runner into 4WD, made the left onto the potholed gravel Tunnel Ridge Road and, 2 miles in, as we passed the satellite lot for Gray's Arch we were stopped cold. The gate to drive the next 3 miles onward to the Double Arch Trailhead was closed! It wasn't only us. Cars and people were everywhere, groups of four, six, twelve! This isn't social distancing. I felt sad, scared...a little sick. We came here hoping to get outside, and find a little Corona-therapy, but we weren't alone. A sort of sanctuary, for the first time in a long time, I was grateful for our big dumb metal box on wheels.

 I imagined people touching the same stair railings and wet rocks, and being forced to be too close at some of Kentucky's most beautiful vistas and waterfalls. Pristine wilderness spoiled by a pandemic, what an odd juxtaposition. No way Joe Biker. Too many people, too little trail. With COVID-19 concerns we were left with two choices, walk an extra 6 miles on a dirt road to get to the less popular 6.5 mile hike we had planned, or leave and find someplace else even less, I guess, desirable. If only we had packed extra PB&Js and Luna bars. If only we brought some bikes to ride past the gate. Deflated, underprepared for a 12+ mile hike, we chose to leave.

The All Trails app is a reliable resource. It pinpoints other trails and hikes nearby your location. Anything near Natural Bridge, the jewel of the gorge, was out of the question. It'd be crawling with snotty kids and people looking for the biggest bang for the least amount of effort. If Gray's arch was a tell tale, it would be a normal Saturday at Natural Bridge, which features even more skinny trails, common surfaces and claustrophobic spaces. I zoomed and pinched. Just down the road was a stretch of the Sheltowee Trail which led to Whittleton Arch, 4.6 miles round trip. Not quite as long as we had hoped, but with no parking lot and very little signage to an unassuming trail, it seemed pretty good. So, mental note, find boring looking, remote, hard to access places to enjoy the outdoors.

Only 2 other cars lined the road at the trailhead, both 4-Runners, which made me smile. We put on our boots and fixed the scarves we brought to pull up before passing others. Along with snacks, we packed hand sanitizer and wipes in our bags. We wore gloves. I tried my best to hike on the slippery mossy rocks without touching trees or common surfaces others may have touched. Then tried not to touch my face when my nose got runny in the low 40 degree temps. It's hard. I'm glad we planned. We only passed 3 other families or couples on the entire route. Thankfully everyone yielded and afforded others a wide berth. A mile or so in, my shoulders relaxed. I sighed. My spouse pointed out a giant bolder smothered in day glow green moss. I looked up and squinted in the sun. With the smush of our boots in the mud and the gurgle of the adjacent creek, we finally found the sense of peace and normalcy we sought. And for three hours, it was sublime. 

TIPS FOR SOCIAL DISTANCE HIKING
1) Abide by local laws regarding travel restrictions.
2) Find the most out of way trail you can.
3) Hike very early or very late. Midday is the most crowded time of day.
4) Hike alone or only with people you live with. If necessary, split in pairs which makes it easier to pass on a trail.
5) Have a 2nd or 3rd choice in case your first trail head feels uncomfortable.
6) Be self supporting. Pack more food, water, clothes and first aid than usual.
7) Wear gloves and something to pull up over nose, mouth and ears.
8) Don't touch common surfaces like railings, rocks, trees, benches and picnic tables.
9) Pack hand sanitizer and wipes and keep them easily accessible.
10) Yield to others and give them a wide berth.
11) Don't crowd vistas. Enjoy your time and move on.
12) Keep your dog and children in check.
13) Pack food and drink for the trip to and from your trail to limit public stops.
14) Wear gloves and wipe down gas pumps if you need to stop for fuel.
15) Stay away from public restrooms. Bring your own trail TP.

Don't Call It A Comeback, But I Feel A Stoke

Hungry Masters Squad (photo: Kent Baumgardt)

Dear Team Hungry:

You guys make racing really %$@# fun!

Honestly, after, I don't know, 15 years of this, it's been hard to keep things interesting. Making the move to Team Hungry was part of that. Starting up Hot Laps too was sort of a combination of trying to do something new with CX and give back to the sport at the same time. So here's to new friends, young hearts and fresh new ideas. I mean just 3 weeks ago Chris Douglas taught me a new trick with starts. By holding the brakes and putting pressure on the pedal, he sort of coils up like a cobra about to strike! And it's been cool meeting new people in the tent too. On top of that, I'm also very grateful Rachel is turning a corner with her recovery and we've been able to do more outdoorsy stuff together.

On the lead lap & 30th at Masters Worlds

To keep things in perspective, every CX season I have some sort of goal in mind. Depending on life, some have been more concrete and others sorta loose. All have been motivating. Over 15 years, it hasn't been easy to keep that fresh and fun. I've had a lot of goals in CX; raced Worlds, Nationals, chased series overalls, got to race in UCI Pro races, chased big regional races, chased podiums and free socks. So, since the 2012-13 Worlds seasons, my only real goal was to have fun and hang with friends...sort of be in the moment. Woo hoo! Outside of that, I really didn't feel motivated. I mean F*** intervals and warm ups right! It was fun! But at the same time I was getting lapped and my results and subsequent sweet-ass CX ranking that I once had faded away in CrossResults.com history. Sad trombone.

This year, I finally felt a little tiny stoke coming back. I bought a new bike with crazy new space age technology like hydraulic disc brakes (thanks Rachel, Chris, and Corey), came up with a training plan, have been watching the kettle chip and IPA intake and sort of struck out with a long range goal: to set myself up as best as I could for Masters Nationals 2018 in Louisville. So for this season the goals are: #1 to get my rankings points back down so I can start the 2018 season on a good foot with call-ups, #2 finish consistently with/near who I see as my peers, and #3 be able to do that without forgoing other fun stuff.

So far I've dropped my ranking 34 points in 3 races! I've been finishing with/near some of the riders I really respect for their skills/talent/dedication. And, lastly, with BLINK, concerts, and having fun riding, walking and hiking with Rachel again, we've been doing cool fun stuff outside of the CX scene too.

I'm still looking to drop the points another 40-45 or so. And, should everything come together for a glory race, I think I have the potential to be finishing 8-9 places higher in the 1/2/3 Masters. But, honestly it's been great to feel that spark for CX again. 

So thanks for the cheers, Woodburn beers and Hungry Hups. And I'll try my best to return the stoke to you. :) 

Joe

Riding the Allegheny Passage and C&O Canal: The Final Push to Pittsburgh

If you’ve ever wondered how far that bike path goes, last year, Cincinnati Cyclists Marty Sanders and Aaron Kent (AK) set out to cover 700 miles of the Great Allegheny Passage and the Chesapeake & Ohio Canal by bike.  Over the past few years, Marty has become a veteran of these rails to trails trips while Aaron, even though a long time cyclist, was new to the idea of a week-long self-supported adventure.  The story is presented in seven parts.

By Marty Sanders

(Read Part 1 Here) (Read Part 2 Here) (Read Part 3 Here) (Read Part 4 Here) (Read Part 5 Here) (Read Part 6 Here)

Day 7 Cumberland to Pittsburgh

Other than the normal aches that come along with a 550-mile pedal session, I felt great when I woke up.  We were going to have to get off to an early start to make it to Pittsburgh by sundown.  I gave AK another hour before I sounded the trumpet at 6 a.m.

My stomach screamed.  I’ve been constantly hungry from the 2nd day of the trip.  With 140 miles ahead, I planned to destroy the Marriot buffet.  The place was busy already, virtually all cyclists.

We saw my buddy Larry having breakfast.  H told us about his previous day’s ride, a solo 25-hour ride from D.C. to Cumberland.  I put extra point on his man card for that. 

As I talked with Larry, AK got into a conversation with a few ladies sitting at a table just across the way.  They looked to be with a bicycle tour group.  I had no idea what they all were talking about, but it must have been funny as they all were laughing.  I invited Larry to ride with AK and I towards Pittsburgh.  He obliged and I passed on my phone number to call when he was packed and ready.

Even though he spun a mean tale with the ladies, AK wasn’t his normal self this morning.  He only ate fruit, yogurt, and granola while I smashed eggs, bacon, and whatever else I could stack on my plate.  I made a few trips up to the buffet, and stowed a few bagels and cream cheese for later.

Packed and ready, we waited for Larry's call and waited.  Maybe he was waiting out front.  Nope.  “Did he leave without us?” Then I realized, for some crazy reason, I gave him a phone number I hadn’t used in years.  I felt like an ass.  I searched for his number in emails, found it and called him. He was already few miles ahead of us, so we set off as well. 

We caught up with Larry a few minutes later.  He stopped to talk to the father and son team we knew from the overnight at the bunkhouse in Hancock.  Larry joined us and we joked and laughed our way up the climb to the Eastern Continental Divide stopping occasionally for photos.

It didn’t take long to reach Savage Tunnel.  After the tunnel, we hit the continental divide, parked our bikes and snapped more photos.  This was also the point where we said our goodbyes to Larry.  Even though we were riding in the same direction, our pace wasn’t the same.  If AK and I were to make Pittsburgh by dark, we had to push. 

We flew!  I glanced back and thought I saw someone drafting AK.  Was that Larry?  We rode several miles before we hit a small rest stop at an old railroad depot and I got my answer.  It wasn’t Larry, but some guy on a hybrid who had snuck into our slipstream.  As big and bulky as our bikes were, I wondered if he even had to pedal.  

Minutes later, Larry rolled up. He was going to find a post office and mail all his gear back home in order to ride to Pittsburgh with no load.  We said goodbye again.  This time, it was only the two of us.

It was sometime after lunch we rode a long stretch next to a popular rafting area.  We could see big groups of inflatables tied together as well as single canoes.  It looked like lots of fun.  A loud siren tore through the quiet of the afternoon.

An emergency vehicle rolled up behind us and passed.  I’m guessing the siren was for someone in the water who was in distress.  A few minutes later, we came up behind a truck with a flashing light and two people in the back.  We followed the truck about a mile and AK began asking questions. 

The guy flipped his boat and had to swim to shore.  He was ok, but his boat was out there somewhere.  The paramedic on the back asked us if we were racing.  We said “just the sun.  We're trying to get to Pittsburgh by dark.”  So, we did in fact pass an emergency vehicle with a patient in transit.  I felt a bit guilty, but he was ok.

We started passing groups of people heading the other way.  Then a group of ladies zipped past us and I heard one say “oh my goodness, that...” That’s all I heard, but I recognized them.  They were the ladies AK was joking with at breakfast.  They must have been on a bike tour which started with a bus ride out of town and a ride back to Cumberland.

We rolled into Ohiopyle and it was a mob scene, an unbelievable number of bicycles and canoes. We split up.  AK headed over to the same restaurant we ate at a few days ago and ordered us two more Nasty Burgers.  I went to the store for a gallon of water.  When I came out of the store, I almost had a heart attack.  My bike!  It wasn’t there.  Wait, wait…someone must have moved it.  There it is.

AK and I relaxed while we waited for our meals.  As soon as the burgers hit the table, we immediately asked for the check. Those burgers didn’t stand a chance.  With filled bellies we got back to the pedaling.  Pittsburgh by sundown would happen.

As I rolled off a bridge onto the dirt again, my rear tire felt soft.  It had been two days since I aired up my tires with a gauge.  I hit it with a CO2 cartridge and we moved on.  Lots of paintings lined the trail.  Then again, my rear tire went soft.  I wished that my tires could make up their damn minds!

We pulled over at a picnic table.  A sharp rock had worked its way through the rubber.  After riding on these tires for over two years commuting and touring on them, I only had two flats.  I’m guessing the casing of the tire was wearing out. For god sakes I thought, they only have 3500 miles on them! As I changed the flat.  AK watched the rafters unloading and floating downstream.

As we moved through small towns it was amazing the parties that were going on. Two different towns had bands playing music and people everywhere.  We passed at a giant RV party with their own security.  We wanted to stop, to party, but we had to press on.

Despite our good pace, darkness beat us.  We still had 10 miles to ride after the sun went down and switched on the headlights.  After almost 140 miles, with a 75-pound bicycle, I counted each little Pittsburgh riser as a climb.   As we rode into town in the dark, I thought to myself.  “It’s over, back to the real world.”

AK and I rolled up to the Tower where we had parked, I reached over and tagged him!  “Your it!” We had been playing “surprise bike tag” the whole trip.  I sprinted away to the lot entrance, and to the car.  AK was only a second behind. We dismounted and gave a high five.  “Great ride,” AK said.  I agreed.

The whole trip was pretty incredible.  I saw more cyclists than ever before on one trail.  AK and I passed hundreds of riders, some solo, some in groups, and some riding tandems.  The scenery was amazing at times, the whole experience unforgettable.  AK wasted no time and asked, “When we riding the Great Divide?”

Riding the Allegheny Passage and C&O Canal: The Drenching (Part 6 of 7)

If you’ve ever wondered how far that bike path goes, last year, Cincinnati Cyclists Marty Sanders and Aaron Kent (AK) set out to cover 700 miles of the Great Allegheny Passage and the Chesapeake & Ohio Canal by bike.  Over the past few years, Marty has become a veteran of these rails to trails trips while Aaron, even though a long time cyclist, was new to the idea of a week-long self-supported adventure.  The story is presented in seven parts.

By Marty Sanders

(Read Part 1 Here) (Read Part 2 Here) (Read Part 3 Here) (Read Part 4 Here) (Read Part 5 Here)

Day 6 Hancock to Cumberland 

The rain had picked up considerably and woke me early.  At times, the rat-a-tat-tat on the thin roof of the bunkhouse was at times almost deafening.  I couldn’t fall back asleep.  At 5 a.m. I read the news and checked weather on my phone. The forecast didn’t look good.  More storms were predicted after 10 a.m. and the front was coming from the direction we were headed.  I was tempted on wake up AK to get a jump on the weather, but I knew we both needed more rest.  I put my phone down and closed my eyes. 

Something made a loud noise behind the bunk.  I switched my flashlight on only to see a large mouse scurry off with some of AK's food.  I got up.  The mouse even managed to get a nuun container open. I had no coffee, but there were those three beers in the bunkhouse cooler.  Still cold, I normally wouldn’t consider drinking beer at this time of day, but figured what the hell, morning beer.  

As we started getting things in order, the father and son who had shared the bunkhouse with us were getting up.  I remember hearing the father say something like “I've slept better standing up!”

Aaron, the son and bike messenger from Philly mentioned that the Eastern Maryland Rail Trail paralleled the C&O for 20 miles and we were at the 10-mile point.  We basically had a dry, paved warm-up, if we chose.  Aaron and his father were gone before us, hoping to get to Cumberland by day’s end.  

We would soon follow, but needed coffee first.  Krispy Kreme donuts and coffee at the Speedway wasn’t exactly as awesome as I thought.  AK was feeling terrible.  Other than my hands being sore, bruised and cut from yesterday’s wreck, I was OK.  Before we headed out, we went back to the bicycle shop to thank the owner for taking care of us. We offered a tip, but he refused.  So, we bought more stuff. 

The Eastern Maryland Trail head was just outside the bicycle shop and a welcome change.  With a nice wooden rail on one, some sections cut through stone, and a vista of the C&O Canal off to the side, it was an excellent trail. 

Transitioning on to the C&O Trail was simple.  We crossed over a lock.  As we rolled onto the trail, you could tell from the standing water that the rain had come down hard the night before.   Thankfully, there was room to avoid the puddles. 

After 15 miles, we took advantage of a lock.  I leaned my bicycle up against a tree and used the port-o-let.  When I exited, AK was standing on the edge of the canal wall.  “Check out the snake,” he says.  It was thick with a diamond shaped head.  Just as I said, “That snake may be poisonous,” it dove off the wall and into the brush at the base of the wall.  Sometime after the snake we rolled past one of the campsites rest areas.  Aaron and his father had stopped for a break.  I waved and hooted at them.

The rain started to come down.  AK put on his poncho.  I wasn’t cold and knew we were going to get soaked regardless of the jackets.  Then it came down harder.  I tried to persuade AK to stop at a port-o-let for a minute to let it pass, but he wasn’t having that.  It came down in a fury for 5-10 minutes.

During the storm, I became nervous about trees falling on us.  I held AK’s wheel close.  When the storm had finally pushed through, it was still raining some, only more of a sprinkle.  We stopped briefly because AK’s poncho was too hot for him.

We were now riding on mud and crushed gravel with nearly non-stop standing water.  It was a little tricky for our slick tires.  Considering yesterday’s debacle, we erred on the side of caution. 

After 25 miles, we reached Pawpaw Tunnel.  The entrance of the tunnel requires you to ride a section of wooden walkways.  They were wet and I took it super slow to the entrance.  There were people inside the tunnel.  I turned on my light, dismounted and headed into the darkness. We passed a family.  One of the children was scared and wanted to leave.  Out of earshot AK mocked them, “Marty I wanna go home!”  I chuckled. 

On the other side, the rain picked up again.  Remembering my morning weather check, it was going to keep coming down until early evening.

After about 10 miles of riding we stumbled across Christine and Jeff, good customers where I work and super nice people.  They were on their way to a Pig Roast in Pawpaw.  They had seen some of my pictures on Facebook and knew I was out there.  Jeff joked he was waiting for me to come fix his flat tire.  It was great seeing both of them.  We posed for a picture.  They were clean.  AK and I were a muddy mess!

We stopped Cumberland and thought about our next move.  Considering we pedaled for over 25 miles in varying levels of rain and through a few inches of standing water, we wondered if we could now refer to our speed in knots?  I wished we could!  A “knot” is faster than a standard mile per hour.

We decided to pack it in and checked into the Marriott in Cumberland.  We figured we'd get a good dinner, a good night’s sleep and punch out the last 140 miles the next day.  As I walked in, the desk clerk said, “You look terrible, do you need a room?”  I smiled, gave her my card and checked in.  She mentioned there was a bike wash around the building and pointed out the breakfast buffet in the morning.  

In the time it took to get clean and changed, the storm passed.  It was going to be a nice evening, so we headed back to the pizza place we stopped at two days prior.  It was busy and happy hour. We ordered a lot of food: pizza, wings, fries, celery, salad, beer and coffee.  We relaxed while laughing about the wet ride. 

On the way back to the hotel, we ran into the statue of the Boy and Mule.  The Santa-looking gentleman we met a few days ago said it was a mandatory photo op.  I posed with the mule, while I got a shot of AK pretending to choke the boy. 

(to be continued) 

Riding the Allegheny Passage and C&O Canal: The Crash (Part 5 of 7)

If you’ve ever wondered how far that bike path goes, last year, Cincinnati Cyclists Marty Sanders and Aaron Kent (AK) set out to cover 700 miles of the Great Allegheny Passage and the Chesapeake & Ohio Canal by bike.  Over the past few years, Marty has become a veteran of these rails to trails trips while Aaron, even though a long time cyclist, was new to the idea of a week-long self-supported adventure.  The story is presented in seven parts.

By Marty Sanders

(Read Part 1 Here) (Read Part 2 Here) (Read Part 3 Here) (Read Part 4 Here)

Part 5 of Seven-Day 5 Bethesda to Hancock

At 5 a.m. I woke up with that feeling of...where am I?  In pitch blackness, the comforter draped over me must have been five inches thick, and heavy.  It's almost as if the bed didn’t want to let me go.  Pinned to the mattress, it took a moment to gather my thoughts.

I crawled out of bed and started into an extra-long stretch session. It was slow.  I was sore.  I spent 30 minutes doing a few poses to loosen up my lower back, neck, and shoulders. It's amazing what a good stretch can do for an aching body.  After washing up, I felt great.

Sean was starting to make breakfast.  We all sat together at the table for breakfast, and it was a good one!  Fresh fruit smoothies, thick strips of sweet bacon, sausage, eggs and Vegemite, yup. Just like in the Men At Work “Down Under” song.  We all chatted and sipped espresso, except for AK who warmed up coffee from the prior evening.  Ick.

It was unfortunate that we had to go as Aaron’s family made us feel very welcome, but the time had come for us to start our journey back to Pittsburgh.  With hugs and goodbyes, we were rolling again.

On the trail, with ran into other bike travelers.  They had square-ish cat litter buckets as panniers.  We saw it a lot, a trend perhaps.  Some using 5-gallon buckets instead.  It seemed smart and frugal to AK and I.  At the the 12-mile marker, we passed the whiskey drinking hiker we saw the prior day.  On the outskirts of D.C., I gave him a fist pump and yelled, “Great Job!  You’re almost there.”  He smiled.  We rolled on.

You could tell it had rained.  We skirted puddles, yet made great time for the first three hours, covering 45 miles before stopping.  I told AK that it probably be a good idea to back it down a bit.  We had a long day ahead and needed to conserve energy.

BAM!  My rear tire blows out, only a mile after stopping. I wasn’t surprised.  With 3500+ miles on them, this was my first flat, so I guess I was doing ok.  It took a few minutes to repair and we got back to pedaling.  

We started hitting bigger pockets of mud, and standing water.  We were moving fast when we rolled through another puddle which had a large rut/hole at the exit of it.  My front wheel sunk in deep and stuck.  I felt a hard hit to my hands and I was ejected over the front.  AK ran into me and went down as well.  We bounced back up.  Assessing the damage, AK said, “I’m solid.”

Both my hands were bleeding.  I feared the worst, stitches.  I tore chunks of meat out of each hand.  I had a large knob on my knee, a chain ring wound on my calf and a bleeding elbow.  AK broke out the first aid.  I kept alcohol in a nuun tablet container and had an action wipe body towelette.  I cleaned out the wounds, used an antibiotic cream, bandgaged my hands and gingerly put my gloves on.

What about the bikes?  They only sustained minor rack bends.  I had to change the way I held the handlebar to compensate for the loss of skin.  The first few miles were pretty uncomfortable.  After the accident, we rode for another 10 miles before lunch.

We called ahead to the C&O Bicycle shop in Hancock to reserve a few bunks. I was a little apprehensive about making the commitment, due to the wreck and it being 80 miles away.  However, in the end, I agreed it was a good call. 

AK asked the owner if they could have some first aid supplies available.  They obliged.  Just before AK hung up, he asked if it would be any trouble to have a six-pack waiting as well.  He said no problem and that was it.  Great customer service again!  We had just ridden about 50 miles and now have committed to riding 80 more all banged up.  What we would do for a six pack. 

The Ibuprofen kicked in as AK and I got in a good rhythm.  After a few hours, we transitioned out of the mud and standing water and rolled on dry trail.  AK was riding strong.  I I sucked his wheel all afternoon.  We switched the lead when we hit the concrete path along the Potomac River.  

A bald eagle swooped down and started gliding just over top AK and I.  It tried to land on a limb that was too small and immediately dropped and glided over to another.  We guessed it was hunting.

The clouds drizzled a bit of rain on us.  Then the sun popped back out.  On and off, it became a pattern for a while.  About 20 miles after the concrete trail, we stopped in Williamsport to eat.  I took the opportunity to change bandages.  In the triangular shape of Ergon grips, my palms were bruised purple and red.  We chuckled.   

A circus of characters engaged us in conversation.  A couple stopped and questioned us about our trip.  They couldn’t believe the miles.  A homeless guy whom obviously been in the sun too long, was ranting about being hit by a car once.  A big Santa Claus-looking gentleman going into the restaurant told us we need to get our picture taken at the boy and his mule in Cumberland. Apparently it was a custom.  

The deli with the high octane coffee was closed, so AK and I stopped at a little place across the street and ate gyros which were more like steak bits in pita.  We were finally alone long enough to eat.

With 40 miles still to ride and the feeling of darkness approaching, we got a move on.  Another set of rain clouds rolled in.  It sprinkled off and on for an hour or so.  Close to Hancock, the standing water and mud was back.  We turned on the headlights.  As soon as we entered areas where the canopy wasn’t thick, the lights weren’t necessary.  On and off we went, before it flat-out started raining.  It wasn’t a hard downpour, but enough to make us uncomfortable.  Soaked, dirty and frankly, tired of the rain and mud, we hit the marker noting our the 120th mile of the day.  The end was near. 

We reached the Bicycle Shop Bunk House at mile 126.  AK unlocked the gate and we got under shelter.  A wash of relief came over me.  Our bikes and bags were filthy.  We used the bike wash as a shower. 

I unpacked dry clothes and my hammock and took a seat at a table in the bunkhouse.  I found Bactine spray and a box of band-aids, like the owner promised.  Next to it was a cooler, inside a six-pack of Pale Ale on ice.  I smiled. 

I cleaned my wounds and showered.  The shower was a shell of a port-o-let with major upgrades, like a shelf for dry clothes.  It looked a bit questionable from the outside, but once the hot water started flowing, everything changed.  I was feeling good again. 

I sat down, cracked a beer and noticed some bags and items at the far end of the bunkhouse. We would have company.  I sat and listened to the rain hit the roof.  We talked for a few minutes before a vehicle pulled up to the gate and two people clambered out. They made their way into the bunkhouse and one went directly to bed.  The other introduced himself as Aaron, a bicycle messenger from Philadelphia.  He was riding back to Pittsburgh with his father.  We chatted about bicycles for a few minutes before he turned in for the night.  

I sat alone for about an hour listening to the rain.  

(to be continued Monday 1/13)