Riding the Allegheny Passage and C&O Canal (Part 1 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

(Part 1 of Seven)

Gather around the fire my friends.  I’ll tell you the tale of 2 bicycles, 2 friends, 2 trails, and 700 miles of riding the Great Allegheny Passage (GAP) and the Chesapeake & Ohio Canal (C&O). 

Both the GAP and C&O figure prominently in American history. The GAP is the end result of four different railroad lines that previously connected Pittsburgh, PA to Cumberland, MD which now is one of the country’s finest rail-trails.  One hundred and fifty miles long, the trail crosses both the Mason-Dixon Line and the Eastern Continental Divide.  In addition to transporting people, I assume this route saw lots of steel moving back and forth in its day.  The C&O Canal trail follows the Potomac River into Washington, DC.  Stretching 185 miles, the canal was necessary due to the Potomac's turbulent waters and The Falls.  A towpath ran alongside for the mules to pull boats between locks. The C&O Canal Trail traces the towpath.

A few months ago, I rode a rail trail in West Virginia. It's weirdly wonderful being able to disconnect mentally from your everyday life.  The experience of the ride becomes your daily grind.  When I get back from trips like these, I want another, and another, and another. I'm hooked.

I've known about these trails since I was a kid, but it never really clicked in my head to ride one until a co-worker who has done a lot of touring mentioned it.  I went home that night and did a little research.  By the time I was done, I was determined to ride the GAP and the C&O.  A few days later, I mentioned my plan to my friend AK. He was interested, but there was a catch.  He needed a bike that could carry gear. So we stripped the parts from a bicycle I had and, after fabricating a rear rack mount so the bags wouldn’t hit his heels, AK was a proud owner of a new Surly Karate Monkey.  AK got himself a used set of panniers and a few camping items, and he was set to go.  We did a few rides of considerable distance in preparation.  With one last go-thought of our supplies and equipment the night before, it seemed like we had everything covered.

Day 1 Pittsburgh to Ohiopyle

I used the four and a half hour drive between Cincinnati and Pittsburgh to read over some literature that AK had printed out for our ride. Remarkably, we decided to stop at a McDonald’s, which I can proudly say is only the third time I'd stopped at one in two years.  All have been while en-route to rail trail adventures.  Every time the same thing, they screwed up my order.

We reached the outskirts of Pittsburgh in no time.  A few miles out from the tunnel, traffic was bumper-to-bumper. During the traffic jam we had the privilege of witnessing the Honda next to us learn a harsh lesson of tailgating.  Smash!  It drove up under a big silver pickup, luckily only a fender bender.  The truck didn’t have a scratch on it, but the Honda’s whole front end was crinkled up. AK and I both laughed a little at that one.

As we rolled out of the tunnel and into town, I reminisced on the last time I had been there. I was 13 years old on a Greyhound rolling into town at night. The river was lit up by the moonlight. This time though, it was 1 p.m. on a Sunday afternoon.  The sun was bright.  The breeze cool.  Perfect riding weather!

When we reached the parking lot, I noticed a ton of cyclists: touring bikes, hybrids, kids bikes with training wheeled, some with knobbies, others with slicks, some wore Lycra, others cotton and denim.  It was almost magical.  All these people from different places and backgrounds were brought together in one place.  The only thing missing was a giant plate of mashed potatoes shaped like Devils Mountain to complete the puzzle.  Ironically, we were parked under an old water tower that resembled Devils Mountain from the Close Encounters alien movie.

After checking over the bicycles again and again, we clipped in. It was a paved path out of town and we both settled in for the long haul. We didn’t really have any particular destination for the day.  We planned to ride till we got tired, then either get a room or camp.  Mile by mile, as we rode out of town across impressive steel bridges with ramps that allowed us to cross the ever present railroad tracks, the bike traffic thinned and AK and I picked up the pace.

Ten or so miles out, the pavement became finely crushed packed stone and we could hear screams. We whizzed past a fence that seemed to be the edge of an amusement park.  I could see two giant roller coasters from the trail.  One seemed not to be in use, but with the screams of the riders, the other was. 

Once Pittsburgh was behind us, little towns dotted our route along the trail.  As we got closer, bicycle traffic would increase.  Most of these towns cater to the cyclists, offering services virtually trail side.  We rolled on.  We kept a good average of about 15mph. It doesn’t seem fast, but when your bicycle weighs 75lbs it changes things.  You've got to stay on top of the nutrition/hydration and listen to your body. We stopped about every 15 miles to stretch and take in food. This seemed to work great for us.

We stopped briefly along the way at little huts designed for camping.  Each offered a nice view and serenity.  These areas also had pumps for treated water.  Although it was supposedly safe to drink, I stuck with filtered tap water along the way.  AK, however, was content drinking the brown stuff.  We rolled for hours, passing noteable sights along the way.  A lot of people were out checking out the natural water-formed anomalies that the waterfalls caused.  Really cool stuff!  As I rode I tried to remember the ones I wanted to stop at on our return.

Later in the day, we passed into a small town where people were tubing down the river and it reminded me of the time I floated down the Gauley River in a life preserver.  This same town had art everywhere.  As an artist and professional printer himself, I’m sure AK questioned my use of the word “art,” but I enjoyed this town.

Eventually we arrived at a Ohiopyle. It was about 7:30-8 p.m. and we were hungry. The town had a nice restaurant on the path.  I also spied a small motel and camping sign. We had covered about 70 miles on our first day.  Dusk was melting into dark.  We pulled the plug.

We sat down for a dinner of “Nasty Burgers,” drank a few glasses of water and each ingested an emergency vitamin pack.  The burgers were big and had fried green tomatoes and horsey sauce on them.  Yes please!  I enjoyed a few Bell’s Oberon beers at dinner and AK loaded up on coffee.

Dark came quickly and the restaurant was closing soon.  We said our goodbyes and headed back to see if the bed and breakfast had any rooms.  We had no luck there, so we rolled down to that motel and AK went in.  I watched through the glass.   AK's expression changed and he began to run his fingers through his hair like he was deep in thought.  The place wanted $200 a room!  As Aaron walked out, they offered a 10% discount.  Even though it was getting colder and darker, we declined and turned to the campground.. 

The sign read, “Campground ½ mile.”  It turned out to be a very steep hike-a-bike that was in fact a ½ mile to the top. We set up in the dark with me in my hammock and AK using a small tent. I put on my jacket and passed out quickly. I slept solid for about 3-4 hours before I woke to a chill.  I zipped up a little tighter and managed the rest of the night. 

(to be continued)

The Most Elusive @Strava Segment Ever

In chest waders with a fly rod, I walked back from the creek after striking out fishing for Steelhead trout.  I wasn’t much of a bike rider then.  A camouflaged gentlemen rolled up the double track in a blue sun-faded early 80’s Chevy Imapla with black steel wheels sans hubcaps.  Using the crank on the inside of the door, adding to the backwoods drama, he physically rolled down his window.  Locking eyes, he quizzed me, “Nuttindoinaina?”  I stopped dead in my tracks.  A bit of water sloshed in my waders around my feet.  What the hell did he say?  Nuttindoinaina.  Miles from anything resembling civilization, I wasn’t scared, only caught off guard that I had to translate the native dialect in this land.  Nuttindoinaina was his way of asking, "Nothing going on huh?"  “Oh.  No.  Didn’t catch anything,” I answered.  He thanked me with a nod and a wave and drove off.  A few miles from the town of Gay (really...look it up), that was my first encounter with a real live native Yooper, a person from the upper peninsula of Michigan.  I’m thinking about going back, this time with a bike.

A Pastie is Like a Homemade Pot Pie

Traveling through Wisconsin, there is no physical border going into Upper Michigan.  It’s porous, sort of like Mexico.  The roads get skinnier, the signs for restaurants selling Pasties get more frequent and four wheelers seem to be the preferred mode of summer travel.  In winter they use “sleds.”  We call them snow machines or snow mobiles.  Coming through Lower Michigan however, you have the majestic Mackinac Bridge linking Mackinaw City with Saint Ignace in the UP.  It towers so high and stretches so long; you’d think a northern San Francisco is on the other side, not summer cabins.  As I discovered last night, the Mackinac Bridge is a Strava segment.  As I also learned, it must be the most elusive Strava segment ever.  I kinda want it.

It’s a 4.4 mile segment with 180 feet of elevation gain.  It’s a bridge, up one side and down the other for a zero net pitch.  The KOM is 16.1mph.  Don Kring of Grand Rapids bagged it in a time of 16:24.  I have no idea who Mr. Kring is since his Strava profile photo is a picture of a sock that says “I Heart Beer” but I thought I could easily take this one while on vacation.  There’s nothing better than bagging out of town segments, leaving the locals to scratch their heads wondering who “that guy” is.  It’s an odd segment; only 16 cyclists are on the leaderboard, not the triple digits we see in major cities or tourist destinations.  Still Mr. Kring’s KOM has stood since September 4^th, 2011.  Now I realize why he rests easy.  No one will have a chance to beat him for another few weeks. 

“If we go here, we are so doing this bridge,” I said to my wife.  I could average 16.1mph over four miles in cutoffs on a beach cruiser with a puppy in a flower basket.  Then I looked at Don Kring’s ride where he set the KOM on the Mackinac Bridge.  He rolled a very respectable 76.1 miles in 4 hours.  He ain’t no slouch.  He wasn’t riding platform pedals or stopping at the pastie-selling tavern I imagine on the other side.  There’s got to be more to this bridge than data allows.  

DALMAC2009

It's no bike path noodle.  There are deep dish wheel-yanking jacket-puffing 40mph winds howling across the deck.  I heard rumors of a steel mesh deck, sasquatches and trolls too, but haven’t seen proof.  Reader Holly told me she was once on the bridge in a car over Thanksgiving.  On windy days, the police will caravan the cars to limit the speed.  Halfway across, they closed the bridge.  Ice chunks were breaking loose from the cables and pelting Holly’s car.  I understand Mr. Kring didn’t set the KOM in November’s Edmund Fitzgerald sinking gale force winds.  It was early September, where temperatures are in the lower 70’s, the leaves start thinking about changing colors and Da Yoopers start thinking about their sleds.  Digging into it, nearly all the people on the leaderboard rode the bridge in September.  2^nd Place rode on Sept 2^nd, 2012.  5^th Place rode on September 6^th 2009.  

According to our readers on Facebook Jeni and Seldomseen, native Yoopers from what I gather, the bridge is only open once or twice a year for pedestrian traffic, otherwise it’s a freeway.  One event authorities open the bridge for is the DALMAC bicycle tour, which takes place annually from Lansing to Mackinaw around Labor Day.  However, the 2013 application deadline has passed.  It’s a multi-day bike/camping tour.  So now you can guess that Mr. Kring might have set that KOM with some heavy gear as he rode up and over the Mackinac Bridge with strong crosswinds.  Either that or he took part in the Mackinaw City Bike Tour.  This year’s event is on September 15^th.  Click here for details.  There’s still time for that, but only 400 some spots are available according to the website.  Like the Eminem song “Lose Yourself,” also a Michigan original, if you want this KOM, don’t let the opportunity slip.  The Mackinac Bridge is the most elusive Strava segment ever.

Bike Vacation: Rent or Your Own Ride

Like a backpack stitched with cloth patches from Amsterdam and Canada and suitcases covered in stickers from Paris and Rome, a bike that’s been to far away lands becomes a better bike. However, I’d never put a sticker on my bike. Those go on the toolbox, roof rack or workstand. I’ve rented bikes in the Florida Keys, Maui, Breckenridge and Whistler, but shipped my Niner Air 9 to Park City. The few times we’ve been to Park City it’s always been around Labor Day, when the good rentals are being sold off, leaving nothing but dusty dirty beaters for the end of season traveler.

If I had my way, I’d ship my bike on every vacation. Nothing beats the familiarity and trust of having your own ride on unfamiliar ground. Plus a bike that’s tackled everything from Pisgah to Slickrock is more of a trusted friend than only a bike. Vacations are much better with your best friend. Still, sometimes it makes more financial sense to rent a friend. The key is finding a good friend.

Tell Me There's Not An Alien In There

I’ve never flown with my bike. I’ve always been shocked at the prices airlines charge to bring a bike along as luggage, only to marvel at the giant golf club bags stuffed with everything but illegal immigrants being checked for free. Consequently, I’ve always shipped it, usually FedEx, in a regular cardboard bike box gleened from a local shop. Make sure you get all the packaging material with the box. Shipping via FedEx ground takes about 3-5 business days to anywhere in the lower 48, and usually runs about $100-$125 for a mountain bike each way with insurance. I usually ship the bikes to a bike shop in the city I’m visiting. I’ve considered shipping to the home of a friend, precisely why it’s always good to stay in touch with your friends that have moved out of town. You never know when that Facebook friend in Denver or Scotland will come in handy.
Here’s some things to consider when deciding whether to bring your own bike on vacation or rent from a local shop.

Fav Travel Shop: A Races Edge in Breckenridge

The Local Shop:
Find a shop you like before you travel. Ask your friends. Call around. Yes, talk to them. Besides, finding out what types of bikes they have and how well they’re spec’d, you’ll know right off the bat if they take time with you on the phone or blow you off as quickly as possible. While the rental sheet may say hardtails are only $35/day, one shop may have Diamondback beaters with low level components while the guys down the street have brand new Santa Cruz Blurs with XT. In Breckenridge one year, my wife and I were able to find race-level demo bikes from Litespeed and Rocky Mountain equipped with XTR, a total score. Moreover, you want to call and talk to them. Find out who’s friendly, which shop heads up the local Wednesday night group ride, who will go the extra mile to show you the trails and which one will help fit you properly on your rental. They key is to find a shop that you can call home while away from home. If you decide to ship your bike to the shop, tell them that you’re a good customer. Let them know, even though you’re not renting from them that you’ll definitely shop their store while you’re in town.

Fav Travel Shop: Maui Cycles Lahaina

Time of Year
The best time to rent is after Memorial Day, the rental fleets are new and the selection is high. Conversely, the worst time to rent is the week of or after Labor Day when the rentals are being sold off and you’ll be left to choose between a tiny 15 inch mountain bike or a skyscraper 60cm road bike. However the bonus of traveling around Labor Day is that many of the mountain town bike shops have huge sales as they try to sell off their inventory before ski season.

Availability:
Search the internet for races and rides where you are staying. You’ll have a tough time finding a quality rental when the Ironman comes to Kona or when the Peaks Challenge is in Park City.

Fav Travel Shop: Owner Mary at Bike Barn in Phoenix

Price:
How Much Riding are you doing: I’m an avid cyclist, but you have to be real about how much time you’ll be on the bike. If you travel Saturday to Saturday, right off the bat you won’t be riding on Saturdays, leaving you six days to ride. If you’re traveling to someplace with elevation, you likely wont be riding very far on Sunday until you get adjusted to the altitude. Ask yourself, will I really ride six days? Maybe you’d like to hike once or twice, go rafting, or spend a day at the pool. More often than not, I find that I really only ride 4-5 times while on vacation. Considering a good high end rental will cost $45-55 for 24 hours, you might be better off renting. If you rent after 1pm, you can ride in the afternoon that day, wake up early, and get a 2nd ride in on the same rental the following morning. Essentially, you can eek two long rides out of a one day rental. Brilliant!