The slope was not all that steep, but it continues for a long time up to the Eastern Continental Divide. Dad was experiencing some sciatic pain from a prior back injury and needed to get off the bike sometime to stretch or walk. While stopped, it was interesting to look out into the forest or stream channels.
The Rockwood Mill Shoppes is a very interesting place, well worth riding the short distance across the river and into the town. The building is an old mill that now hosts several mini-businesses on the first floor, including an ice cream shoppe and short order food shop. Here's where it gets more interesting. The owners bought the building ten years ago and then learned that the top floor had once been an opera house. Apparently it was not unusual for this type of arrangement in towns along the railroads. She and her husband decided to renovate the opera house (as well as the rest of the building) and have done an impressive job, much of it themselves. Now, once again, there are theater productions in the Opera House. *
*Rhona and I have been back twice to attend theater productions, including most recently a Patsy Cline dinner show. Their website is: http://www.rockwoodmillshoppes.com/Index.htm
took this picture just to show we were thinking about my daughter, Kelly while on the tour.
I took many pictures on this tour while in motion. It turns out that you can ride and balance a bike while looking at the video display viewfinder on a small digital camera. Here, I was lucky I didn't crash over the side of the bridge and plummet into the windshield of a tractor trailer on Rt. 219 below.
A railroad bridge coming out of Meyersdale. Years later this bridge was raised about two feet to accommodate double stacked freight cars on the operational tracks underneath.
Scenic view just east of the Big Savage tunnel. The tunnel is closed during winter months to protect it from freeze/thaw cycles. Note Dad's footwear. He opted to wear a pair of old sandals that I seem to remember were old when I was a young child. They weren't in a good state of repair when we left Mt. Lebanon and it seemed that exposure to sunlight and air were weakening them at an accelerating rate. Nevertheless, we knew that he had duct tape and some Liquid Nails packed somewhere in his gear and with repairs would be good for another decade. The socks started out beige and just got more beige as we went along.
Entering Maryland. Creating the GAP trail required the cooperation of not only towns, cities and counties, but also Pennsylvania and Maryland. A lot of hard work by a lot of volunteers.
My wife Rhona and my friend George cycled up from Cumberland to meet us. We stopped at the Frostburg trail access site. The town is up a steep hill from the trail which can be climbed through a switchback trail. It's fun to cycle up, not so much to cycle back down.
Rhona packed a "goody bag" of snacks for Dad and I. She is a vegetarian and would never have anything like a beefstick for herself. It did hit the spot on this July 4th. It was cool enough that I loaned my friend George my jacket because so little body heat is generated while coasting down.
The trail enters Cumberland through a section known as the "Narrows". George Washington came through this area during the French and Indian War. It's neat to picture him looking at the same scenery.
Cycling into Cumberland. The old Western Maryland Train Station is ahead around the curve. Inside is a C&O Canal museum as well as restrooms and water fountains.
Throughout the year a steam engine train runs up the mountain to Frostburg. It's nice to time things so that a ride coincides with the train schedule. A black smoke belching steam engine is an impressive sight from 10 ft. away.
Rhona drove us home to Keyser for a wonderful July 4th dinner followed by a special desert. Dad's expression does not really reflect how good the cake was and how little was left when we were finished.Dad's rear tire went flat at the end of the day (the only flat of the trip). It was nice to be able to change the tire in the garage instead of on the side of the road.
