Cycling was once strictly utilitarian for me. Getting from point A to B in comfort meant black garments, bike shoes or LL Bean boots for rainy days, plus rubberized yellow rainjacket. My bicycle had basic racks and fenders with black panniers. Boring, yes. But those were the times. Only a few of us actually road bikes for transportation—even less toured.
Enter recent acquisition of a step through style bike plus an old 12-speed. The shift from practical cycling garments to reflecting my personal style is still in transition, but unmistakably, something has changed. I think about wearing a skirt over tights, choosing a matching hand bag that can be tossed into a basket—often in flashy colors. The more leopard print the better. What shoes should I wear?
Style doesn't end with clothing either. It's all about the bike too. I coordinate handlebar tape, experiment with corks for bar end plugs, prefer longer lasting tires that honor the bike (gumwalls anyone?), racks or baskets that complement and provide ample storage. Beautiful bells. Comfy and good looking saddles. Repurpose bags into panniers and front mounted containers. The list goes on.
So what happened? Why the change? I think it partly due to recent bicycle culture. There are numerous organized bike rides. Tweed rides, night rides—you name it. Our local Great Turkey Chase and Halloween Ride come to mind. Each celebrates an occasion, representing a theme, often with recommended attire. In turn these events fuel bike happiness and confirm that it's acceptable to wear street clothes on the bike. Anything goes.
Without societal pressure, there is free reign to boldly go where no woman has gone before.* So profound, I know, and not necessarily a revelation, but there it is. Couple that with reality: I'm beyond school girl age. Who cares about social etiquette and conformity? As far as I'm concerned, it's license to follow my own wardrobe path.
And while I don't strictly adhere to lycra-less plumage, stretchy material has it's place on the bicycle. Think leggings, yoga pants. Jeans are usually out—too many seams—though I've been known to wear them on rare occasions. I straddle both legions. Enough form-fitting clothing to keep from getting caught in the chain and enough dual utility outerwear to easily walk into a store. All with style, of course.
Secondly, consider the resurrection and popularity of old bicycles—think 3- and 10-speeds. That's a culture that is quite literally, spinning its wheels. And—dare I say it—because helmets are not mandatory in most U.S. locales**, riding without special clothing or equipment has inadvertently encouraged everyday cycling. Roll a Raleigh 3-speed outdoors, hop on and ride 2 miles to the office. For many folks, it's faster than driving —not to mention locating and paying for parking.
Whatever your cycle style, I'll be touring with bold-printed socks in sandals and riding an old Peugeot around town. It's all good.
*Sorry trekkie fans. I couldn't resist. Or should that be Trek lovers?
**Please refrain from pro vs. against helmet use-related comments.
Friday, November 29, 2013
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Handlebar Mania
Current bars on the Peugeot. |
I've been bitten also. From current Ross handlebars to recent Peugeot tinkering, I've keyed on, primarily, different handlebar setups to, hopefully, solve fit problems.
Maybe something like these Pyramid riser bars could work. Photo credit: Amazon |
I'm not in a hurry to make a change. It's nearly winter. I'll take my time, scout out local vendors, inspect bikes on the road, and explore options.
Or maybe an adjustable quill stem will do the trick. Hmm, never thought about that.
Monday, November 25, 2013
Greece - Pedaling a Rugged Coastline to Almiri
Follow New Posts in the Around The World series on Mondays.
Click here for the Introduction.
|
Andy and I climb the rugged hills near Nea Epidavros. Panaramio photos are copyright of their owners. Photographer: thsallas [2013-07-28] |
27
miles - Tuesday, November 1
A
pleasant morning. Cooler than usual, but clear and damp. Free camping
felt liberating – and though we lacked a hot shower – it was
unexpectedly spiritual and simple. I wake to glistening dew under the
olive trees.
Andy
and I coasted the remaining kilometers to a rugged coastline. We head
north. Sweat pours down my knees as we ascend one 5 k incline plus
another more grueling rise. It's brimming with beauty. It reminds me
of Texas hill country: dusty red soil, pine trees. Herds of goats
roam in the distance; bells chiming like faraway music. An occasional
store or cafe sends Greek music filtering outside. I'm pleased the local people have escaped the Rock and Roll craze.
By
noon time we descend 1000 feet to touristy Almiri. Signs advertise
several campsites; we choose the first available one. This one is
adequate, and importantly – we can reach Pireas docks tomorrow,
allowing island transport plus possible ferry connection with Turkey.
Almiri Beach. Panaramio photos are copyright of their owners. Photographer Kiriakst |
After
an obligatory swim – I can't pass up any opportunity to dip in
saltwater – we stock up on food and retreat to our site. Across the
bay Andy and I study a relatively flat coastline – tomorrow's route
– but more congested. The only unspoiled view from the beach is an
oil refinery; stacks spew brown clouds. We are the solitary campers
until a small R.V. pulls in at 7 p.m.
After
a failed attempt at locating an English newspaper we strike up a
conversation with the campground host, delighted he speaks our
language. It's a chance to probe for any information that might aid
our travel and in return we happily answer his questions. A phrase
that is a common remark in Greece and throughout Europe: “Americans
drive big cars.”
A
few more facts about Greece:
- half the population lives in Athens
- like the U.S., population is in decline. Families are having fewer children.
- Albanians, Turks, Africans illegally live in the country
- young men must complete a 1-1.5 year military tour
- visitors mainly arrive from France and Italy. Germans used to drive when Yugoslavia wasn't experiencing internal conflicts.
- this campground sees approximately 15 bicycle tourists per year, mainly from the U.S.
- young men learn English and young woman learn French as a second language
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Coffeeneuring Recap
Document the coffeeneuring experience. In a nutshell, the following is a condensed version, mostly for MG to fulfill her Coffeeneuring Challenge requirements. For others who desire an in depth account, I've provided links to separate blogposts:
First Cup - Monday, October 7
Maglianero
Black Jersey Blend Coffee
Total: 8 miles
Observation: An opportunity to photograph autumn colors before heading out for coffee.
Second Cup - Friday, October 11
North Beach, Coffee Shop Without Walls option
Fair Trade DCF Espresso
Total: 4 miles
Observation: Making Coffee on the beach with a lake view is heaven.
Third Cup - Monday, October 21
In a Treehouse, Coffee Shop Without Walls option
Part Cafe Bustelo, part Fair Trade DCF Espresso
Total: 8 miles
Observation: I fall in love with the treehouse with each visit.
Fourth Cup - Friday, October 25
Uncommon Grounds
Pumpkin Spice Latte
Total: 3 miles
Observation: Rum cake doesn't pair well with flavored coffee.
Fifth Cup - Friday, November 1
Starbucks at Barnes & Noble
Chocolate Tazo Chai Tea Latte
Total: 5 miles
Observation: It's a comfortable place to read a book. However, I can't keep an eye on my bike.
Sixth Cup - Monday, November 4
New Moon
Americano
Total: 15 miles
Observation: This could easily become my new favorite coffee shop.
Seventh Cup - Monday, November 11
Burlington Bagel Bakery
Oregon Chai Latte
Total: 9 miles
Observation: Bagels are still great, but bike parking is nil.
First Cup - Monday, October 7
Maglianero
Total: 8 miles
Observation: An opportunity to photograph autumn colors before heading out for coffee.
Second Cup - Friday, October 11
Fair Trade DCF Espresso
Total: 4 miles
Observation: Making Coffee on the beach with a lake view is heaven.
Third Cup - Monday, October 21
In a Treehouse, Coffee Shop Without Walls option
Part Cafe Bustelo, part Fair Trade DCF Espresso
Total: 8 miles
Observation: I fall in love with the treehouse with each visit.
Fourth Cup - Friday, October 25
Uncommon Grounds
Pumpkin Spice Latte
Total: 3 miles
Observation: Rum cake doesn't pair well with flavored coffee.
Fifth Cup - Friday, November 1
Starbucks at Barnes & Noble
Chocolate Tazo Chai Tea Latte
Total: 5 miles
Observation: It's a comfortable place to read a book. However, I can't keep an eye on my bike.
Sixth Cup - Monday, November 4
New Moon
Americano
Total: 15 miles
Observation: This could easily become my new favorite coffee shop.
Seventh Cup - Monday, November 11
Burlington Bagel Bakery
Oregon Chai Latte
Total: 9 miles
Observation: Bagels are still great, but bike parking is nil.
Friday, November 22, 2013
GAPCO - Irons Mountain Campsite to Hancock
There is plenty to investigate. |
Day five of our adventure started with damp cold. I was fully awake by 6 a.m., and peeked out the 6 inch hole in my mummy-style sleeping bag. It was the only way I kept warm—wearing a hat and coat draped over my torso made up for an inadequate bag, especially because it was 39F. It turns out I was the only one who slept through roaring, frequent trains—ear plugs were my friend. It was some time though, before I could extricate myself from my cocoon. Andy grumbled something about oatmeal being ready, which didn't sound too appetizing. I heard Patty shuffling about. I slowly did exercises and a half hour later, I roused myself outside, bundled in all the clothing I'd brought. I must admit, it felt good to stand up after 10 hours in a tent.
One of the many lock houses on the C&O Canal. Photo credit: Patty |
Patty tucked chemical warmers in her socks. How brilliant! Like the Starbucks Via coffee packets she rationed, I imagined she carried only a few warmers with her so I didn't bother to ask if she had spares. Her circulation was worse than mine. I hadn't wished for my down booties (stuffed in a closet) for 20 years, yet I could've used them at the campsite. Actually, to save space, I should've brought my own warmers—Patty had the right idea. I sufficed with thick fleece socks inside thin soled shoes, then switched to sandals once we got rolling. We all bundled in hats, mittens, and rain gear over tights and jackets—anything to ward off numb fingers and toes.
One of many great blue herons enjoying the canal "soup". |
I immediately recognized the "Who, who cooks for you?" bird call as a barred owl. I rarely see them in Vermont. We stopped and gazed through the trees until we spied the owl sitting on a branch.
Turtles were plentiful. They made us all laugh, lined up on logs emerging from the overgrown canal. Acquired by the National Park Service in 1935, many canal sections resemble ponds; otherwise a forest has grown. Except for the raised trail—which often felt like a rail trail to me—the defunct waterway is left to the animals. Often, when the lighting was just right, the weed-covered water could be mistaken for grass.
Photo credit: Patty |
Photo credit: Patty |
Photo credit: Patty |
Another creature to add to our list: an interesting striped lizard with distinctive blue tail slithers out from a cement block while we eat. Maybe he smelled our food! I later identified it as a blue tail skink, a common lizard in Maryland.
A typical view of trail and changing trees. Photo credit: Patty |
Riding on the C&O Canal is a delight. Mostly. Because the one bothersome thing is the amount of debris we constantly flick up from the trail. Stones and most especially sticks catch, and snap, rocket sideways, back wards, or momentarily cling, riding up under the fender. I stopped a few times to remove sticks from the freewheel. Another time a stone inadvertently pinged from my bicycle and hit Patty.
As hilarious and silly as these minor events are, the sound of flung debris can be unsettling. It wouldn't take much for a stick to get stuck and take out a few spokes.
This was my first thought when an extremely loud crack comes from my rear wheel. It sounded like a gunshot and all three of us come to a halt.
Andy and I dismantle the fender while Patty documents the scene. Photo credit: Patty |
We leave a piece of fender in place. I need a big wrench to undo the kickstand or remove rear wheel in order to reach the last bolt holding the fender. |
Onward we go, eventually arriving in Hancock. We look for a private campground, ready for a shower. One option is to stay in lodging connected with a bike shop, but the stacked bunks resemble a kennel. Literally, the housing is outdoors—not unlike a hostel—but inside a fenced off 20 foot high cage. There is no privacy plus with the impending cold I knew I wouldn't be as warm as sleeping inside a tent. It was truly a weird place and could only be for summer travelers. Instead, we forego bathing and stay in the city park. A corner is set up for overnight guests complete with picnic tables, water spigot, and reasonable seclusion set back from the road. Andy was uncomfortable; there were teenagers hanging around, mainly near a group picnic shelter. We confirm our stay with with residents. And true to their word, local police cleared out the teenagers at 9 p.m.
After a quick walking tour of town there is nothing like Jiffy Pop and wine to round out the evening. Love that bike tourist fare...
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
We Should Be So Lucky!
A nice commuter bicycle with double baskets—a good choice for market shopping. |
It's hard to be upset when I'm that mom. Full bike racks? We should be so lucky!
Monday, November 18, 2013
Greece - Nafplio and Epidavros
Follow New Posts in the Around The World series on Mondays.
Click here for the Introduction.
20
miles - Monday, October 31
Andy
and I had hoped to bypass busy roads between Corinth and Pireas –
boarding a boat from southern Peloponnese directly to Pireas and from
there ferry to Greek islands. However, information was poor and we've
little choice but to close the distance by bike. Train service is
apparently four times slower than the bus. But as with any
misinformation, it's often an opportunity. We can return north by a
scenic coastal route.
Andy
and I ride around picturesque Nafplio. A tiny castle-like structure
rests offshore, nearly covering a rocky island. Once protecting the
harbor, the building now houses a restaurant. A small open hulled
boat is anchored between island and shore; it's image is reflected in
calm water, like glass, under a perfect blue sky.
We
spend the morning, enchanted, riding a walkway around a peninsula
then visit the restored 17th century Palamidi Fort. It's
the prominent feature, situated on the crest of a hill above Nafplio.
Built by the Venetians, then captured by the Turks, the Greeks gained
control in the 1800s. The approach to the high-walled fortress is by
climbing 999 stone steps – no easy feat. The ascent is slow and
steep, but thankfully in the shade. After each flight we take a
break, admiring views of the broad bay, red-roofed Nafplio, and a
public beach whose aqua waters and growing number of bathers, and
most especially enjoying the ocean, looked more and more appealing
the further uphill we went. At the top Andy and I roam the ramparts.
Without rails or any safety features of any kind, it's a bit spooky.
There is a fine line between peering over the edge and experiencing
vertigo, so I remain safely back. I go week kneed though, as Andy
gazes downward, unafraid of heights.
Back
with the bikes, we eat lunch and pedal a long hill, ascending for 26
kilometers. Rising for 1,000 feet we observe eucalyptus and palm
trees give way to rocky hillsides studded in pine and olive groves.
Passing by one long white building, the tart smell of olives drifts
upwards along with us. I wondered whether they're pressing oil or
soaking olives for later consumption.
I
prefer riding beside olive trees. The thin leaves provide a little
shade, are fragrant, spacious underneath, and are a last resort
should we need a place to pitch our yellow tent. All the more
comforting because most campgrounds close today.
By
mid-afternoon we reach the piney heights of Epidavros, a sanctuary of
Esculapeus, god of health. Several temples stand in ruin; only large
stones outline each building on dry, cracked earth, covering several
acres. Yet, a restored amphitheater, seating 14,000 is exquisitely
beautiful, Above the seating are rocky, flat summits and pine trees;
the structure was deliberately built into the side of the hill,
taking advantage of natural acoustics. I climb to higher seats while
Andy stands on stage. His voice is sharply magnified, sending
goosebumps up my arms.
Afterward,we
begin a deserved downhill stretch and start looking for a place to
camp. Andy and I turn down a dirt road near an old stone building. We
don't really know if the locals understand our intent but when asked
to camp they respond with “no problem”, which is good enough for
us. We make dinner and are halfway through making our usual tomato
sauce and pasta when a maroon-colored Jeep pulls up. A woman and man
get out. First they walk away from us but then double back. I was
nervous, wondering if we misunderstood; these two were not the same
folks who gave us permission to stay. Andy waves and smiles,
continuing to stir our dinner pot. I jumped up to try and explain our
presence. The woman turns to her companion who speaks a little
English. He confirms that it's all right to stay. Interestingly
enough, he tells us his grandmother lives or lived in Chicago – I
wasn't sure which. He and his mom had come by to check the olives.
Fifteen more days until harvest.
A
few days ago, someone assured us the Greeks are laid back. Tonight
certainly proves it. Without further worry we set up the tent on
sloping ground, crawl inside, and read by candlelight. I am content
and delighted to sleep under the sprawling olive trees.
Saturday, November 16, 2013
The Island Line Trail Map
New this past summer: the Island Line Trail map. Much like its predecessor, it highlights the waterfront trail, but now expands upon Colchester's, South Hero's, and South Burlington's connector paths.
I love the fold-out style. It's easy to read and also guides users a half mile from lakefront to downtown's pedestrian mall —a big draw for first time visitors to Burlington. I'm so impressed with this year's format that I keep an extra copy to give to Warm Showers guests. Getting around town can be difficult—and even harder to describe—especially cycling to/from our home, a sweaty 200 foot gain from lake level. Now it's as easy as handing fellow cyclers a map and letting them decide which course to follow.
I love the fold-out style. It's easy to read and also guides users a half mile from lakefront to downtown's pedestrian mall —a big draw for first time visitors to Burlington. I'm so impressed with this year's format that I keep an extra copy to give to Warm Showers guests. Getting around town can be difficult—and even harder to describe—especially cycling to/from our home, a sweaty 200 foot gain from lake level. Now it's as easy as handing fellow cyclers a map and letting them decide which course to follow.
Friday, November 15, 2013
Coffeeneuring - Seventh Cup
I locked my bike to a picnic table. |
Seventh Cup - Monday, November 11 - Burlington Bagel Bakery
My final coffeeneuring run was tacked onto a ride to Lowes for paint. On my way home I stopped by Burlington Bagel Bakery in South Burlington where I could get lunch and coffeeneur. Once the only bagel provider in the region, the business expanded, outgrowing it's original location in downtown Burlington. It has, however, gone through growing pains; the business branched out into several locations, but then competition took hold—we are big bagel fans here—and currently only the South Burlington shop remains.
There are numerous businesses along busy auto-centric Route 7. Most lack adequate bike parking and the bagel shop was no exception. Surrounded by asphalt, the property is devoid of trees or fencing that might double as post for locking a bike. Ugh. I was lucky that it was a brisk afternoon; picnic tables were empty and provided ample space for my bike.
Parking difficulty aside, the bagels are still first rate. I drank a tall Oregon Chai Latte, accompanied by chicken salad on rosemary bagel. The filling was fresh, oozing out, reminding me how it's a mouth workout to consume a bagel sandwich. The latte could've had more flavor, but I drank every bit and struggled homeward with a full belly.
Total mileage: 9 miles.
First Cup, Second Cup, Third Cup, Fourth Cup, Fifth Cup, Sixth Cup
Big thanks to MG at Chasing Maiboxes Third Annual Chasing Mailboxes Coffeeneuring Challenge.
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
2013 Foliage Challenge - Photo #14
MG from Chasing Mailboxes D.C. adds another autumnal specimen to the fall potpourri. "This tree lives along Ohio Drive between Hains Point and the Tidal Basin," says MG.
I'm glad that brilliant color finally graced the Southeast. Now that we're straddling winter weather here in Vermont, I'll take any glimpses of color that I can get!
Join me in this Celebration of Fall. I'll post your foliage photo(s) in this series.
I'm glad that brilliant color finally graced the Southeast. Now that we're straddling winter weather here in Vermont, I'll take any glimpses of color that I can get!
Join me in this Celebration of Fall. I'll post your foliage photo(s) in this series.
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Just Because...
The sign must refer to maniac drivers. |
Just because a trail forks; take the one least traveled.
Leddy Park. |
Quiet, lake views that soothe the soul. |
Monday, November 11, 2013
Coffeeneuring - Sixth Cup
Sixth Cup - Monday, November 4 - New Moon
First day with a scarf and thicker head band than usual, it was nonetheless another sun-filled coffeeneuring ride.
The waterfront path was quiet, a nice perk for year-round cyclists who ride during the cooler months. The asphalt was very clean, unusually so, until I spied a Parks & Recreation employee walking, blowing leaves off the path. This is new. In the past, leaves compacted until covered by snow. Recent clearing may coincide with Penny for Parks program updates. The fund dedicates $350,000 annually to parks improvements.
For me, it was heaven, confidently riding without worrying whether my tires slip on wet leaves. With foliage season long past, I enjoyed broader lake vistas, and most especially observing ducks, splashing and honking on sandy shores.
Fireplace seats are already taken, so I sit at a table. The Americano is smooth, tasty, even with a bit of milk splashed in (poor man's latte). The only downside is they've run out of mugs and I drink it in paper cup. I love the cookie. It's thick, crunchy and very fresh. I tried to save some for my boys, but I break off bits until I've eaten the whole thing.
Where have I been all these years? New Moon is infinitely more inviting than my regular downtown coffee shop. Less expensive too. And with breakfast burritos, an interesting lunch menu, specializing in local ingredients, I know I'll be back. This could easily become my favorite haunt.
First Cup, Second Cup, Third Cup, Fourth Cup, Fifth Cup, Seventh Cup
For rules, visit Third Annual Chasing Mailboxes Coffeeneuring Challenge.
Sunday, November 10, 2013
GAPCO - Rockwood to Irons Mountain Campsite
Photo credit: Patty |
Every morning on a bike tour should start with eating pie at breakfast time! My husband's resistance to sweets lowers dramatically when he comes face to face with fruit pie. Such was the case when he purchased a blueberry pie the evening before, yet inevitably was unable to eat much, after wolfing his mandatory pasta. Not to worry though, we'd pack leftovers to eat en route.
Salisbury Viaduct. Photo credit: Patty |
Within 15 miles we pedaled over the spectacular 1900 foot Salisbury Viaduct. It's an amazing structure, spanning highways, railroads, and farmland. We were lucky that Amtrak happened to pass below us after we'd stopped, alerting us with the mandatory horn blowing as it travels through junctions and populated regions.
As with many of the bridges, viaducts, and tunnels, the safety features are pure delight: smooth concrete and high sturdy railings, lending confidence even when seated higher, pedaling a burdened, sometimes wobbly bicycle. We looked forward to these crossings, which afforded open landscape views, an alternative to often monotonous wooded trail.
Still steadily gaining altitude, we took a break at Meyersdale's train station. Patty and I were chilled. I regretted not bringing warmer footwear; my wool socks and bike sandals had to suffice for the rest of the trip. With tin mug in hand I went searching for coffee and walked into a renovated train station, complete with bathrooms, gift shop, museum, and model railroad, run by an elderly lady who graciously filled my mug from her office pot of coffee. Thank you, kind soul.
Meyersdale trailside museum. |
Warmed and stoked for the next miles, we set off but are soon way laid at the Bollman Bridge. Patty and I momentarily inspect historical signs and continue—it was much like other bridges.
However, Andy remains, talking with a gentleman who'd paused, leaning on his walking stick. Patty and I cross the bridge and viaduct then wait, enjoying the changing foliage, noticing also a ridgeline filled with wind generators. Patty becomes cold and goes back to find out why Andy is taking so long.
He'd gotten caught up in conversation. He loves to talk—no surprise to me of course—but it becomes a concern when traveling with two easily chilled women. Peculiarities of women's bodies aside, it was a reminder that this adventure wasn't a race. To take a break and chat with the locals was equally important. And, as our adventure progressed, my husband would observe things Patty and I were oblivious to; sometimes he'd alert us, other times not, lingering to his own music and exploration, hence Patty and I were caught up in forward motion until she or I realised Andy wasn't behind us.
Last grunt to the divide tunnel. Photo credit: Patty |
Photo credit: Patty |
Photo credit: Patty |
Photo credit: Patty |
Photo credit: Patty |
Before we know it, we are cruising through the Big Savage Tunnel.
It's well lit, but still eerie riding 3,300 feet underground, following a speck of daylight at the far end.
Photo credit: Patty |
This descending stuff was going to get the better of us. Barreling into Maryland, through another tunnel and several miles later, we are cold and stiff. Arriving in Frostburg I was ready to locate a coffee shop. However, we didn't expect a half mile climb to get to town. Instead we all go into survival mode, realise we have a stove, and create our own temporary coffee shop within a spot of heavenly sunshine, amongst the comings and goings of other bike tourists and the curious who've parked automobiles in the trail access lot.
Path parallels Western Maryland Railway. Photo credit: Patty |
It was providence. We warmed up, swapped pleasantries with other riders, then continue descending, riding beside the Western Maryland Railway all the way out of the mountains into Cumberland. I don't know if it was the time of year, proximity to raging rivers, or high mountain weather, but the Great Allegheny Passage portion of our trip was curiously devoid of wildlife. I expected to dodge at least chipmunks or squirrels and they were nowhere to be found.
Purple bicycle parked outside National Park Service information center. Photo credit: Patty |
It's a seamless transition from one trail to another. After restocking on food and wine, we pass beneath the blue entrance, stop to take obligatory photos as rights of passage, then continue riding beside the Potomac River. For the next 180 miles we'll be on National Park land.
We're warm now, but still retain socks in sandals. I loved Patty's colorful ones. |
Photo credit: Patty |
Chick flick photo to send to Patty's boyfriend. |
From this vantage, looking back toward the obvious cut through the mountains, The Great Allegheny Passage slips through The Narrows and ends in Cumberland.
Photo credit: Patty |
Ten miles from Cumberland, it's time to call it a day. We opt for the second campsite. These primitive places are free and come with hand-pump water, portolet, and picnic table.
Photo credit: Patty |
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)