| Distance | Vertical Gain | Duration |
| 92.9 Miles | 2,224 Feet | 10 Hours 29 Minutes |
Waking up to the predicted forecast of rain on the roof of the cabin we spent the night in was difficult pill to swallow. I’d previously completed a bike touring trip for 3 days around the White Mountains of New Hampshire entirely in the rain, and I was not looking forward to almost a century ride in the rain today. With a bit more pep in our step this morning than the previous two, we loaded up our bikes, dawned all our warm clothes, rain gear, and pushed off into the morning foggy mist towards Cumberland. This morning, was like the previous, being quiet as we got as comfortable as possible for what would be another long day on the bike with a tremendously sore rear-end. At least this morning, we got to ride alongside a Blue Heron flying along the canal at eye level, exactly at our speed feeling like we were flying in formation.
Rolling the twenty miles or so separating Paw Paw from the mountains that Cumberland sat below, we crossed off the last of the locks that we’d come accustomed to as milestones on our ride. Locks 73, 74, and 75 sat in close proximity to deal with a significant gradient change as we got closer to the Continental Divide. As we approached the booming metropolis of Cumberland, or so it seemed to us having not seen society in quite a while, we rolled through the end of the C&O Canal trail and on towards the Great Allegheny Passage trail. Of course, we needed to stop at a Sheetz to get a real meal that included breakfast sandwiches, chicken sandwiches, donuts, and Gatorades. Once again, feeling like an outcast with all our bike gear on while the rest of the patrons were going about their normal Sunday mornings through town.
Following the mighty Western Maryland Scenic Line steam engine, we pedaled up the climb towards the continental divide. Cumberland to the crest of the top of the mountain range that separates Chesapeake Bay and Mississippi River watersheds, climbs 2,000 vertical feet over 24 miles. Luckily the path uphill is a smooth gravel and dirt path that parallels the train tracks where the scenic line goes up and back loaded with passengers enjoying a relic of the past and the changing of the fall leaves. The climb itself is a manageable, railroad grade, but relentless with our heavy bikes. Settling in to a smooth cadence, the 3 of us climbed mile by mile, winding our way through the Appalachian mountains. At one point, Ben bonked on the climb so I grabbed his pack off his bike so he could get into a more comfortable riding position and lighten up his bike weight. Luckily, he was able to recover a few miles later and we were back in business. But once we reached the top of the climb, passing over the Mason Dixon line, under the tunnel that crests the hill, and into Pennsylvania, we could finally point the bikes downhill for a thrilling descent.
A highlight of the day was the elevated bike path just past Meyersdale, which repurposed the old Salsibury Viaduct, crossing over the Flight 93 Memorial Highway at over 100 feet in the air. Crossing the bridge, we had to dodge families of Amish out on a tour for the day that did not expect to see us come riding across the bridge with all our bags strapped to the bikes. But then it was onto our final destination of Confluence and we had a difficult decision to make, and that was where to find food. The 30 miles that separated the towns of Meyersdale and Confluence are more rural and essentially a food desert. We would have to detour off the bike trail for 10+ miles to reach a restaurant or grocery store, and we were already loosing daylight, fast. So with frustrated realism, we decided to push through to the end without stopping for food again since our Sheetz stop in Cumberland at 11:00 am.
No doubt this decision was going to take a rough toll on the group. For the next two hours we pedaled along one of the prettier sections of trail, with tunnels and bridges along side the Casselman River, but we did not appreciate any of it. The fading daylight only increased the frustration of a long day on the bike without food. Thankfully, the trail was slightly pitched downhill, giving us the extra pace needed to reach the town of Confluence, seeing the neon signs of Trailhead Brewing Company that was calling our name, only to be disappointed to see it had just closed for the night. Defeated, but not broken yet, we pedaled on to town, passing 90 miles on the day, with our headlamps lighting up the road in front of us now that the sun had completely set by this point. And with our AirBnb just ahead, Pat cuts the corner of a turn too sharp and runs his thin road bike tires over the grates of a storm drain, catching his rear wheel, and ripping the tire right off the rim. Of course, having this serious of a mechanical could have been way worse at mile 50 on the day, so we just walked the bikes the last hundred yards to our small, one room AirBnb in Confluence, PA.
Having made it to our destination, we were extremely relieved and elated. But we weren’t out of the woods yet. It was a Sunday night, and only one restaurant was open, with the exception of the local gas station, again. So we wandered over to the River’s Edge Cafe Bed & Breakfast, with our head in our hands, to see if they could squeeze us in to an already packed restaurant without having reservations. Luckily the server, who ended up letting us know she originally was from Utah, found a table for us outside in the cool evening air. We weren’t complaining and gladly sat down in a chair that was 100x more comfortable than our bike seats. Heavy beers, big pasta dinners, and some desert felt like heaven on earth compared to the bike snacks and sweets that I had already exhausted on my ride.
Three days behind us, with only 1 to go, and completely exhausted. These days were finally starting to take their toll on me, despite the easy pace and grades of climbing. The sleep each night came easy, but the mornings came too soon. Luckily, I had convinced the guys we would need to have an alpine start in the dark the following morning to make it to Pittsburgh in a reasonable time since I still had to drive home after we finished our ride. From Confluence, only 88 miles were left on this two-wheeled journey towards Pittsburgh, and I couldn’t wait to be done.
Hi there, my name is Zachary Kenney and I’m an adventure filmmaker & photographer. My passion is to tell stories that will hopefully motivate you to go live a more adventurous life. Whether that is to experience the view from the summit of a mountain, or wandering through a new town on a road trip. Currently based in the Park City, Utah.
