Statistics:

August 5, 1981 - Norvelt to Ohiopyle - 50 very hilly miles;

August 6, 1981 - Ohiopyle - Day Off to go whitewater rafting - 0 miles.

Description of Events:

An unexpected turn of events brought us here to Ohiopyle. Last night, when Paul was talking on the phone to his brother Bob, he was informed that Bob would be in Ohiopyle to do some whitewater rafting on the Youghiohgeney River. The town's name is a unique one and the river's name is a mouthful! Locals refer to the river as The Yough (pronounced Yock). We looked at maps to plan for this deviation from our route and decided to go to meet Bob. There really wasn't much choice, especially after Paul had to suffer through meeting my relatives. 

Actually Paul enjoyed meeting my kin folk and before our time in Ohiopyle was over, meeting his turned out to be a great time for me.

To re-cap the day, August 5, 1981: After everything we have seen and been through, this was the toughest day (for me) of the trip, so far. From Leslie's place, we took Mount Pleasant Road into none other than Mount Pleasant Borough. Although it was a few days early, I decided to finally get my haircut. The barber shop was busy, so we killed some time in a cafe and then went back over to have the job done. The barber did a good job but afterwards, I felt like I had let David Crosby down. A bright spot was that my head was now a bit cooler.

From Mount Pleasant, we got onto SR-31, which was the main drag through town. The West side of town is the high side and the road drops steeply as you head East. At the Doughboy traffic circle, SR-31 falls even more significantly and heads out of town. Down the road a piece, we climbed a hill that was three miles long and was called, Three Mile Hill. Go figure. At the top was a place called Bear Rocks. We didn't see any bear... thankfully. That would have been more than I could bear (pun intended).

At the very small town of Donegal, we took SR-711, which led to Normalville. As we started out on SR-381, from Normalville, we encountered a road closure and detour. Our intended route was SR-381 all the way to Ohiopyle, which is hilly in its own right. However, the detour forced us onto SR-653, which unbeknownst to us, was the steep way to climb up and over Laurel Ridge. Some of the pitches had grade percentages in the mid-to-high teens. At some spots, the grade percentages may have been in the low twenties. It was brutal. By the time we reached Ohiopyle, I was soaked with perspiration and my legs were feeling it. But, the day was not yet over. 

We inquired for directions to the campground where Bob told Paul he was staying. It was the state park campground, called Scarlett Knob, on top of... another hill! Of course, getting there involved more climbing that rivaled the hills on SR-653. Brutality unlimited! 

Since Ohiopyle is in the Yough River Valley, there is no way to leave without going upward... and these are not your garden variety upwards. We made it, but it wasn't no picnic, as they say 'round these parts.

Once we were on top, we hoped to be able to stay on top... or at least avoid more of those really steep climbs. We decided that when we do leave, we  will take US-40 East. This meant that we will drop down into Maryland for a day and a half. Originally, we hadn't intended to see Maryland but now we will get to the Western Maryland Panhandle. It is a rather narrow area that separates Pennsylvania from West Virginia. Should be interesting.

At the campground, it turned out that Bob was traveling with some friends of his, Steve-W and John-D. The latter of which had several of his adolescent children along. Initially, John was wary of the two road warriors who rolled into camp, rather boisterously, after a long and difficult day of riding. The reception was a bit chilly, especially on such a hot and humid day. 

Since Paul and Bob hadn't seen each other for a while, they were off talking and catching up. Yours truly had no choice but to try and break the ice with Steve, John and his kids. Steve was easy. I worked on John and the kids, making some progress before it was time for lights out. The kids were a little easier to communicate with, especially when the talk turned to the bikes and the trip. John was coming around. Tomorrow is another day!

August 6, 1981: We awoke to a rainy morning. Luckily, we were under some trees which shielded us from the heaviest downpours. Since we were scheduled to take a raft down the river, we didn't have long to obsess over everything being wet once again. 

After having ridden past so many great rivers, we finally got to raft down an 8-mile stretch of the Yough. One of the many rapids is called Bottle of Wine. I asked the guide why it is called that. In his colloquial way, he said, "'cause, if you fall in, alls you see is bubbles." I guess he prefers sparkling wines.

The rafting company was called Mountain Streams Outfitters. They gave good instruction beforehand. The guides balanced safety with allowing us to have some fun. Steve, Bob, Paul, and I were in one raft. With some guidance, we caught on to the paddling strokes quickly and maneuvered through a number of rapids. At a spot called Swimmer's Hole, we were able to jump into the water, with life jackets on, and float downstream for a short distance. The whole ride down the river was a great time. 

Afterwards, we went back to the camp and cooked out, with John-D and his kids. John really came around. He had a military background and was pretty rigid, which may have accounted for his initial wariness toward us. But he respected what we were doing and opened up quite a bit. He became another good person and friend we had met on this long road.  Maybe my haircut was the key. Had he seen me yesterday morning, I might have been in serious trouble. Timing is everything!