June 1, 2019
Paw Paw, W.V. To Sharpsburg, Maryland: Bog Monster vs Sunshine Superman, The Sequel
The C&O is a chimera. A chameleon. A shapeshifter. Like Kaa, the snake in The Jungle Book. “Trussssst in me, you know you can trusssst in me.” It reads your mind … knows your greatest hopes and your deepest fears, and just when you have reached your limits, or gotten happily complacent - *snap* - it changes directions.
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When we left Dan’s we knew the weather was going to be, once again, very friendly. A heartening thing, that knowledge. We also knew that, by design, today was going to be an 82 mile day. A disheartening thing. That morning, when Dan heard our itinerary, he pointed out a secret short cut that would subtract 14 miles from the day’s ride AND put us on pavement instead of the vagaries of the C&O’s crazy mood shifts. This was a very heartening thing. We shoved off from Paw Paw feeling like we had dialed in an unbeatable life hack.
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It was obvious the C&O was in a very cranky mood almost immediately. Bog Monster had returned, with a vengeance. Margaret likes to ride point, and she was a live-action demonstration of evasive bicycle maneuvering. Swinging left, then right, bunny hopping (on a loaded touring bike, no less), then shouting “heads up!”, and barreling through wide swaths of mud and standing brown water. “C’Mon, Man,” was my silent thought toward the Bog Monster. “It hasn’t rained for two days and still this? What’s the deal?” Bog Monster refused to entertain my logic, and for the next …. Who knows how many miles … we were again in its clutches.
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Just before I was about to have a silent tantrum we arrived on the outskirts of Hancock, where the Western Maryland Rail Trail begins. It is paved. And not filled with standing water and mud bogs. This was very, very heartening. Once we rode that trail we would be very near Williamsport, where we could take Dan’s secret shortcut and lark our way to Sharpsburg to the tune of a measly 68 miles instead of the 82 mile trail grind. HA!!! Take THAT Bog Monster!
Almost the instant that thought crossed my mind, Margaret said, “ I think there’s a bike shop in this town. We need to stop there because my rear brakes aren’t working at all.”
Oh, Dear.
Indeed, there WAS a bike shop in Hancock. Indeed, Marg’s rear disc brakes WERE Kaput. To add to the drama, the bike shop did not have the specific pads needed to fix that issue, and Marg was only going to have front brakes for the rest of the trip. Having to “fly blind” on routes that might have a long and fast downhill with no rear brakes was a No Go proposition, and that took Dan’s secret shortcut off the table, route-wise. By default, we were back on the C&O for the rest of the day.
“Hey. Great to see you again,” said the Bog Monster.
One big thing about the C&O trail is that it’s flat as a pancake. You can manage that with one functioning brake no problem. So after having insulted, loudly, the Bog Monster we were back begging him to let us return knowing we’d suffer his full wrath for our hubris. I apologized … deeply, fervently, earnestly. I threw myself at his feet and begged for mercy. I begged for dry trails. For no rocky stretches. Please, Sir, please? No more mud?
His response?
“Meh. You bore me. I can’t be bothered. Whatever.”
And with that, the rest of the ride on the C&O was dry, smooth, and uneventful. I swear to God, man, the Bog Monster just wants to mess with your head as much as possible. It was back to Sunshine Superman all the way to Sharpsburg, although we did have to climb a wicked steep hill to get there, though that felt more like some sort of local voodoo, nothing to do with the Monster.
Along the way, an unexpected bit of human sunshine came in the form of the US Coast Guard, of all things. No, we didn’t need rescuing from riding into the Potomac River. Rather, much of the day we had been passing runners on the trail accompanied by someone on a bicycle as support of some kind. All ages, all genders, all levels of running skill. At one really scenic part of the trail with easy road access we came upon a group of guys who looked like they were connected to the runners. They were. Turns out this was an event organized by members of the US Coast Guard to raise money for the ALS foundation. Many years ago a “Coastie” who was much beloved in the service, and lived a very active outdoor life, lost his life to ALS. Every year many in the service take part in a run that lasts about three days that starts in Cumberland, Maryland and finishes just outside Washington DC. That is about 185 miles! There are several teams of runners who relay through that distance, but the run is continuous and though members take cat naps when they can, they are always on the move. They were a great bunch and very down to earth and upbeat. They said if we wanted we could stop at their next aide station for pizza and beer. What they were doing makes the Bog Monster seem like a trifle, which compared to a diagnosis of ALS, it is.
We stayed a B&B in Sharpsburg, a little town of 800 people. Dinner was down at “Captain Benders Tavern” where I had a crab cake sandwich and Marg a Philly Cheesesteak. We also had 1 ½ hard apple ciders between us. Yum. It seemed somehow appropriate, and maybe prudent, to clink our glasses together as a toast to the Bog Monster. Skol!
Today's ride: 82 miles (132 km)
Total: 264 miles (425 km)
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