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Dirty Laundry, Getting High, the Big Savage, and my Cumberland Gaff



Wednesday, July 14 to Husky Haven (Rockwood, PA)

The ticket lady picked me up. She had called to tell me she would be a bit late. That gave me time to run across the street to get some breakfast at the gas station. I had a better view of the scenery from the front seat of her car than I had out the back window of the ambulance.

I became reunited with Sarah and my baggage in the back of the ticket booth and repacked it. With some anxiety, I said my goodbyes and peddaled out of the campground.

I stopped in Confluence at Diamond Produce, a decent grocery store, to get a bag of ice and a bit of food. The bike shop was close, but I didn't stop in. I was soon back on the trail, my confidence building with each hour.

It's almost 2pm and an older couple coming toward me stopped me. I though it was because of my recumbent, but the man said "I see you're feeling better; I heard you were in the hospital". They had ridden to Rockwood, and were coming back. They had been in the campground when I left in the ambulance, and it wasn't long until everyone there had heard of my quick departure. What a nice surprise to meet them.

I met a guy just after crossing the Casselman River bridge at the Pinkerton Tunnel bypass. He was trying to do 140 miles today. He had already done over 100 miles, and it was nice he took the time to chat for a while.
    
Some people like to share. Just past Markleton, a young lady walked toward me.
I asked her: "Where you headed?"       She said: "Just up here to my car."
I asked her: "How far did you go?"      She said: "Not that far."
I was happy she didn't go THAT far.

Soon after that, at the side of the trail, I saw a big gate. I got closer to see what was beyond it. Check it out.
    
Husky Haven is a nicely laid out campground, directly adjacent to the trail. However, the office, showers and services are on the other side of the river in Rockwood. After checking in, I thought food was a more important priority, then after eating, I forgot to stop and get a shower.

Rockwood has an old opera house that now holds several small businesses. I stopped in, and at the drink station asked for sweet tea. She had regular tea and directed me to the sugar packets. At the café part I ordered some pizza.

While waiting for the pizza, I thought I'd have a little fun. I took my ice tea back to the first station and complained that my tea was now too sweet, and could she help me take out some of the sugar. Would you believe she was no help?

There was only one other camper at Husky Haven. I pretty much got my choice of sites.

Thursday, July 15 to YMCA (Cumberland, MD)

Nestled behind a car wash, the Rockwood Laundromat was hard to find. It didn't have a change machine or soap dispenser that worked. The restrooms were locked. The pop dispenser said $1.25 on each button, but said $1.50 where you put the money. I had to settle for rinsing my clothes.     

To get the dryer to work,

you had to fan the door above it after inserting your money.
At 2:30 on the trail, I met that couple from the Outflow campground again. They had just gone up to Big Savage Tunnel and were coming back. He said he was 69 years old. They also saw my tent in Husky Haven from the trail earlier in the morning.

I was stopped looking at another small waterfall when a vehicle approached at about 4mph. The only vehicles I expected to see on the trail are for maintenance. I was surprised then to see a van with two or three YOUNG adults in it. A short time later, I came to a locked gate. There had been no exit opportunity for a vehicle since I last saw them. Me thinks someone borrowed daddy's gate key for a slow joyride.
    
Going through Garrett, although there were few signs, there was not really any opportunity to get off the trail. This is worth mentioning only because during that stretch, the surface got rougher and I wasn't sure I was still on the trail, adding to the adventure factor.

Less than a mile before I got to Meyersdale is the 1908' long, very impressive, Salisbury Viaduct. The approach required quite a cut in the landscape.
    
Once on the viaduct, you cross high above farm fields, a river, an interstate, a railroad, and a local road. In the distance you see 25 huge wind-driven electric generators.
    


Down in Meyersdale, I had a good spaghetti dinner at Missey's Café and stocked up on ice water before I left. Getting there was easy, as long as my brakes worked, but the return trip had me pushing up nearly half the hill.     
Just after Deal (not really a town - just two houses), I could have gone to a commercial campground 2˝ miles off route. I had traveled well over my average of 20 miles, but was thinking the rest was downhill and I could get to Cumberland before dark.

The local I had been riding with the last 10 miles and I entered the .6-mile long Big Savage Tunnel. The ceiling was quite high and had large, orange lights, each set close enough together to prevent shadows. That was fine as long as all the lights were working. Three weren't. Riding where one was out was very noticable. Riding where two in a row were out caused me to slow down significantly.

It was just before 8pm as we exited the tunnel. My new friend said it was only an 8mph coast, and Cumberland was 22 miles away. I said I would pedal hard. Before we parted, he let me know there were rattlesnakes in the tall grass at the edge of the trail. I took a moment to enjoy the best scenic view of the whole trip - the Cumberland Gap.


So I left the mountaintop, killing my dream of a long coast, and pedaled hard toward Cumberland. From Frostburg, I shared the right-of-way with the Western Maryland Scenic Railroad track, but never saw the train. I could usually ride 15-20 mph, but the possibility of a stray piece of balast from the track, the right angle railroad crossings, and two other tunnels would force me to slow down at times.
    
After passing Frostburg I saw three deer on the far side of the tracks. They climbed up a 60-degree hill. This was steeper than a 100% grade, which a 45-degree grade is.

The first tunnel was the Borden. Although it didn't look much longer than an overpass, it was over 3 football fields long, and unlit. I took it too fast. Without my peripheral vision picking up the walls, I started to waver back and forth. After braking to a stop, I took a breath and assumed a more sensible speed.

The next tunnel was the Brush. It was 43 feet shorter (like I knew that ahead of time - not) and lighted, so I took it at speed. I might as well have been in the dark; the lights flew past like I was on a merry-go-round horse. I slowed down to what I thought was 5 or 6mph, and went to put my foot down. Oops, still going closer to 15, but was able to regain control by braking. (A couple days later I would pass through my last tunnel. Although it was almost as long as Big Savage, and unlighted, staying on my bike would not be an issue.)

About 20 minutes before I reached Cumberland, dusk became dark, and I had to slow way down to not overrun my headlight. The trail was unfamiliar and wiggled through a residential area before entering downtown. I did the 22 miles in 70 minutes, averaging nearly 19mph. The trail speed limit is 15mph.

Because it was dark, I didn't want to try to get to the first free campsite. It was 7 miles down the C&O Canal towpath, and I'd heard that part was rocky and rooty (not true).

As camping was not allowed in the parks, my only choice was to use the camping facilities of the YMCA. I called the number for the YMCA and got a message to call back when they were open. The first pedestrians I asked either didn't know where it was or worse, wanted to know if the campground was at the new YMCA, or the old one. I found two guys who rattled off about 8 turns and I was on my way. I soon found myself in West Virginia, thinking they had played a joke on the old guy on a bike.

I returned to downtown Cumberland (only about a mile away) and found a young woman out walking the streets (for the exercise). I decided to ask directions to the police department. I expressed a lack of confidence in following directions so she walked me to the street it was on, and I rode the remaining three blocks. Of course, it was locked up. The area between two sets of double doors had a call button, and the officer on the speaker said he would be right there.

I told the officer that no one was answering the phone, but I felt I could find someone there to help me out. I really was just thinking of sneaking in and asking forgiveness in the morning.

His instructions matched those of the two guys, and I realized where I'd missed my turn. In my preparation, I looked at an aerial view of the facility showing the campground behind the facility. When I arrived, there was no room behind the building for anything. Across the street was a picnic area with a pavilion. I thought it was too open to be anything but a last resort. I proceeded down the street in to an industrial area, looking for a shadowy area to hide in until dawn. Everything was lit up like midday by security lights.

It was almost midnight, and I resigned myself to make the best of the picnic pavilion. As I retraced my route, I saw someone sitting on the front steps of the YMCA. They would see me, the police would be called, and I would get two days of free lodging in the Cumberland jail (according to the officer at the station).

I decided to chat with this man, getting an idea on how long it would be before he would leave. In a wild shot, I asked if he worked there. He did - he was the custodian. I asked about camping facilities and he pointed to the pavilion across the street, and said it would be OK for me to go there. Cancel that 911 call.

I finished setting up my tent and was about to climb in when, just twenty feet away, a long freight train went by. I was committed. I found my ear plugs and laid down, thinking what George Burns said as he approached his 100th birthday: "I don't really need much sleep - just some rest".

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