Two days, one night

April 25, 2022 to April 26, 2022

A brief shakedown camping trip

Monday 25 April

FROM A COUPLE HUNDRED YARDS AWAY, I saw what at first seemed like a welder's flash on the opposite side of the road from where I had paused for a breather. Then I realized that no, it was the headlight strobe from an overturned bike, so I rode over to investigate.

It transpired that the rider had suffered a broken chain and was trying, without success, to cobble together a repair that would save him walking the two or three miles to his car.

My touring tool kit includes a small tool that has a chain pin driver among other things, so I set to work shortening the chain by one link (the link at the point of failure was bent and probably would have popped open again even if I had managed to get it reconnected). While I was at it, a couple other riders happened by and stopped to find out what was going on. They offered some good opinions, advice, and moral support then headed on to finish their ride, promising to return to check on the stranded rider. Within a few minutes, and before they could get back to us, I had him sorted out and on his way. He was a very happy camper!

The reason I happened by was that I was outbound from home to Gambrill State Park, having made a snap decision very early Saturday morning to get some miles in and work on developing and refining my cycle camping routine. The park, some 47 miles from home as the bike wheel rolls, is a good destination for such an experiment and on weekdays at this time of year reservations are easy to come by.

It was a late start- 10:30 - thanks to some errands and chores that needed doing before I could shove off, but no matter. There's plenty of daylight, and it was going to be a beautiful day. Even if it took six or seven hours to cover the distance, I would not have to worry about finishing in the dark. But I really didn't want to take that long if it could be helped.

My GPS projected an impossibly rosy 2:15 arrival time but I knew better. For one thing, there were photo stops. For another, on a heavily laden touring bike my pace averages well below the pace the device uses to project times. 4:00 seemed more realistic. In the end, it turned out to be 5:00.

As I trundled along I mused once again on how pretty the western part of my county is, especially now when flowering trees and shrubs are in bloom. It's worth the pollen. Even close to home, here in the land of suburbia, the ornamental flowering crabapple trees are busy doing their thing.

Even in the suburbs the ornamental trees are pretty.

The ride routed me along roads long familiar, and some I've recently "rediscovered". Spring is happening in all its glory around here. The air was alive with birdsong, patches of honeysuckle perfumed the air here and there, and everything is greening up for the summer. It was simply grand to be out and riding through it all.

At a small triangular corner in what is essentially the middle of nowhere I stumbled across a small island of perennials. There's a sign alerting the county crews to their presence and asking that the spot not be mown.

Someone took the time and trouble to establish a little patch of pretty at a small triangular intersection. Bless them, whoever they are.

Big Woods Road twists and winds through, well.... big woods. In my direction of travel it's more down than up, and loosely follows a small stream. Sadly, there seems to be an element that has little or no regard for either nature's beauty or their fellow citizens.

A plea, from residents of a lovely stretch of road. The local residents may take it upon themselves to clean up the roadside; at the very least I didn't notice a lot of trash and dumpage.

Somewhere along Big Woods, I happened on two beautiful azalea bushes in full bloom. It just doesn't get prettier than that.

Several miles further on, I was routed onto a road unfamiliar to me, though I must have traveled it at some point in the last three and a half decades.

Good advice at all times and in every situation.

On that road stands an example of the classic country church: simple, but elegant in its own way. There were many others on my line of travel but this one just struck me as especially photo-worthy.

The countryside is dotted with simple churches. This one just struck me as especially pretty.

As the day wore on, I began to use photo stops as opportunities to take a moment's rest. There was a striking tree, apparently dead, right next to the road and all alone. It was at just the right place for a break, so it got its picture taken for its troubles.

As I was catching my breath and having something to drink, I realized that out on the western horizon I could now see more-or-less where I would be spending the night. It was, of course, at. The. TOP. Of. The. Ridge.

My destination for the day is somewhere on top of that ridge.

The climb up the ridge was slow and draining. I adopted infantry tactics: make short moves from one driveway to the next, pause, repeat. Even so, I was reduced to pushing the bike on the steeper sections. But that was preferable to the alternatives.

At the start of the climb I stopped to gather myself, and lay down in a shady patch at a convenient corner for ten minutes to rest. I had gotten back up and was stirring around near the bike when an Amazon delivery driver stopped. "I'm glad to see you up", the young lady said. "I saw you a few minutes ago when I went by. If you had still been lying there when I came back, I was going to stop and check that you were okay."

I thanked her for her concern and assured her I was just resting. "You could deliver me to the top, though." I suggested, only half joking. "I would, except I have more stops to make."

Braddock Heights sits along the top of the ridge and appears to be quite a pleasant little place. The houses are tidy, the yards neatly trimmed, and it gives a general air of being comfortably well off. It is also very aptly named, at least insofar as the "Heights" part goes.

A beautiful old house along the side of the road in Braddock Heights. I have newfound appreciation of the name.

Before I embarked on the assault on the ridge, I had spotted a mailbox that I thought would be of interest to a new acquaintance of mine. He's developed a hobby of photographing interesting mailboxes that he encounters while touring. I hope this one meets his criteria for "interesting".

For Ray Goodfellow: this is the mailbox for the John Deere dealer in Jefferson, MD. The dealership is across the street, but how appropriate to have a Tractor Supply Company store in the background?

The climb up the ridge- something approaching a mile and a quarter at grades between 8 and 13 percent, was slow, arduous, and punctuated with pauses to rest as well as some stretches that I walked. I'm not proud: I'd rather walk than not get there at all, or strain and hurt myself trying to ride a hill.

That hill really did take nearly everything I had to reach the top. Even after I did, making progess at anything above a walking speed was a struggle. A woman on an e-bike passed me along the way; I eventually caught her at a traffic light a couple miles farther on. "Alright, you've made a convincing argument. I'll trade you bikes, even up." I told her. "I'm eighty years old and had chemo treatment for cancer" she replied. "It really wiped me out, so I'm glad to have the assist." She did not take me up on my offer of a swap. What she did do, after the light changed, was disappear rapidly into the distance ahead of me.

The last few miles to the park, and from the entrance to my campsite, were more up than otherwise and took my last remaining strength to complete. A bit more walking happened; had it been earlier in the day I might've managed to cope but coming at the 46 or 47 mile mark and on the heels of the other big climbs, I was knackered and didn't have the heart (or legs, or lungs) to try to ride the steeper (probably only 5 or 6 percent grades) sections.

Setting up camp went slowly. I'd complete a task then sit and rest for a minute before my mind and body would work again. But it got done and, after a big helping of couscous for dinner I began to feel better.

My home for the evening, at a lovely campsite.

The water in the shower was delightfully hot and plentiful, so I indulged in a few extra minutes before heading back to the tent for the evening. Once there, it was lights out in short order.

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Day 1: 48.7 miles in 6.5 hours total time. Not exactly a blistering pace.

Tuesday 26 April

I slept pretty well, although there was some of the usual tossing and turning that always seems to go with my first few nights in a sleeping bag and tent, after a layoff. At around 5:30 it was perceptibly no longer dark as night, but I just couldn't summon the will to drag myself out of the cozy warm bag and into the cool morning air. It wasn't cold, or even chilly, it just wasn't as warm as the inside of my bag.

Finally, around 6:30, I bit the bullet and got up. The motivating driver was the weather forecast, which indicated rain would develop at the park starting around 11, and by 3:00 it would have moved to my house. I really, really didn't want to ride in the rain if it could be avoided, despite having my rain gear with me against the possibility that it might happen.

It takes me two hours to break camp and be ready to ride, timed from my emergence from the warm and cozy cocoon of my sleeping bag. Coffee and oatmeal, things that require only boiling water and that produce only minimal mess to be cleaned up, are likely to be my go-to staples when I'm camping. Packing takes a while, and of course taking down the tent and getting it all rolled up consumes several more minutes. The upshot is that I think I'll need to allow two hours when I'm on the tour.

After finishing the day yesterday with a lot of climbing, I was looking forward to getting all of that elevation change back. After a little bit of climbing as I left the park, sure enough I was treated to a satisfying plunge back off the ridge.

Rather than pre-plan a route home, I let RWGPS select one for me today. I got some pleasant surprises, as it routed me right through Frederick along several bike paths and through city parks. I'd never have known to choose them had I tried to do it myself, but they were delightful.

The route home, mostly chosen by RWGPS but modified along the way by me. RWGPS didn't know I wanted pizza in Poolesville for lunch and expected me to stay well to the east of where I actually went. I hope I didn't hurt its little electronic feelings by disregarding (some of) its choices.

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In the city itself my attention was drawn to a brightly-colored building, which turned out to be a dog park of some sort.

On my way through Frederick, I passed this very colorfully decorated doggy day spa.

South of Frederick I rode through the Monocacy National Battlefield Historic Park, owned and administered by the National Park Service. There are roadside markers here and there; the current trend toward removing Confederate statuary and markers hasn't yet reached this place.

I've always been fascinated by the story of the Lost Orders, which led directly to the much larger and more impactful clash at Antietam (Sharpsburg) some days later. (Historical note: the "Lost Orders" incident preceded the battle by almost two years, but the armies covered this ground several times during the course of the war.)

Perspectives regarding the battle vary, depending on who commissioned and placed the markers. This one was placed by supporters of the Union, and emphasizes the longer-term implications of the battle.

Perspectives regarding the battle vary, depending on who placed the markers. This one was placed by people aligned with the Confederacy and focuses only on the immediate outcome of the battle.

A monument to a New Jersey unit stands lonely vigil over a portion of the battlefield.

From Monocacy I wandered south and then southwest, headed for lunch in Poolesville and deviating from the RWGPS-selected route. This was something of a gamble, based on (a) the current weather conditions, which seemed to be holding steady at "overcast", (b) the fact that it added a few miles and many minutes to the day's ride, and (c) faith that the weather would not arrive any sooner than the forecast predicted.

Part of my route was along a stretch of Peachtree Road that I've only ridden a few times, and never in the direction I was covering today. It was lovely, but taxing. Later, on a section I ride relatively frequently, I was almost deceived by the slight downslope and a subtle tailwind into believing I was in fact riding strong.

By rights, I should have one of these at the end of MY driveway.

I knew better, though, and recognized the thinness of the veneer simulating strength that in fact masked a creeping level of fatigue. This is the first time I've tried riding two successive days, at roughly the "average" daily distances in my plan, with a fully loaded bike. So, it really was a test to gauge the state of my preparedness.

Kristopher's Pizza obliged me with an ENORMOUS slice of pepperoni pizza, which when coupled with the break from riding helped revive me a bit. From there it was about a 16 mile run to get home, with clear signs that the clouds were lowering and preparing to dump the predicted rain. Would I make it in time to stay dry, or had my lunch gamble cost me that opportunity?

In the end, my timing couldn't have been better. The first tentative sprinkles were starting to come down as I dismounted, pushed my bike to the back door of the house, and let myself in. I was, and am, tired but pleased with how things went.

It was "fun", but the fun was tempered with the effects of fatigue. I'm satisfied that I can do the mileage for my "typical" days but there are the longer days still to worry about. I also sense that I may need to do less camping than I had planned (hoped), if only to shorten the to-do list before and after the actual riding by an hour or so on each end. But, I'd call this outing a successful test and good evaluation of where I stand at the moment, and a guidepost to what I need to do in the next eight weeks.

Day 2: 50.3 miles, 6.0 hours total time.

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Scott AndersonCongrats, on the ride and the roadside repair assistance. Gold star!
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