A Spring Ride

From a posting dated March 22, 2010, photos added...

Yesterday we decided to load up the bikes and head out to the Passage. What a great day to ride. Libby and her friend had wanted to go out to the WMRT, but decided to get a couple more hours of sleep. We chose to park at the trailhead parking behind Lucky Dog Cafe in Confluence.

(photo - near Turkeyfoot [Confluence])

Bikes were unloaded, gear distributed (I handed over the tool kit, first aid kit and camera to the girls), and instructions given on where to stop. The girls quickly disappeared under the overpass and just as quickly stopped at a small mound of snow blocking the path. After dismounting and walking the bikes over, we started toward the small hill going out of Confluence. The trail surface was dry and hard... the hill was dry and a little sandy in places. There was a shallow imprint of an ATV track that my trike couldn't escape, but it was of inconsequential depth that I'm sure no lasting damage was done.

The midday sun blazing down through the shadeless trees made me wish I had brought my hat. I caught up to the girls, who stopped for a photo op - they quickly disappeared again. This would become our modus operandi for the short trip.

There were few riders on the trail. The parking lot at Ramcat was nearly deserted (we were the only car at Lucky Dog). Two fly fishermen were walking toward me - they said the river was too swift and deep to wade out. Indeed. Back at the intersection of 281 in Confluence you couldn't help but notice the tremendous geyser of water unleashed from the dam by the Army Corps of Engineers. Almost all of the boulders in the river were under water; rapids roaring like the falls at Ohiopyle from the force of the water. Freshets were pouring into the river after tripping carelessly down the hillsides.

(photo - one of many freshets)

The trail conditions were generally dry and packed, except for 3 or 4 patches of snow every mile or so. The snow was melting (and had become snow-crusted ice in spots) and left semi-soft spots where you could trace the path of bikes that had blazed through before... but no deep lingering ruts were noticed. The trail was littered with twigs and branches, more of a nuisance than hindrance, and no more noticeable that previous years.

The deer flies have not yet emerged to begin their quest for blood, I am happy to report. No suicidal squirrels or chipmunks (only one all too eager to scamper under the safety of a rock). The few mallards I saw were paddling in the calmer areas along the bank of the river; the common Mergansers were drifting down the swift river channel and then in a burst of flight, moved upstream to repeat the process ad infinitum. Crows seemed plentiful and a few red-tailed hawks made lazy circles in the air above. What seemed to be lacking were songbirds, now plentiful here in Ligonier. The woods were relatively quiet.

The green of the Rhododendron breaks up the grey starkness of the defoliated trees. Ferns dot the hillsides, and I caught sight of a few outcroppings of ground pine – both adding a little color to the ride. I could have sworn I saw some trillium emerging – dark, pointed green leave in threes – but it’s probably just wishful thinking, or a case of misidentification. I’ll defer to Paul for the first official trillium sighting.

People on the trail were few and far between. A few groups of two riders, a runner, a couple (she was wearing an EMT jacket) out on a walk with a lab puppy, more fishermen. About a half-mile from the picnic grove, I saw a familiar face. It was Joe (part of the Joe and Big Dave duo) from the Bike Forums group I sagged last year. He had decided to do a day trip from Ohiopyle to Confluence with his daughter. He's planning another trip down the Passage/C&O but says he'll invest in panniers this time around... and not bring the air compressor.

(photo - Joe from summer 2009)

When I caught up with the girls, they were at a picnic table whittling spoons from branches they picked up along the trail. Libby wanted to continue on, but her friend Gooby said she was tired and hungry, and could I please get the car and pick her up. Lib just chuckled and said the nearest pickup point was four miles back. We turned around and headed back toward Ramcat, the girls once again in the lead.

(photo - Libby, left and Gooby, right)

I didn’t realize how tired I was. What was a relatively easy trip downstream had now become an agonizing crawl back to civilization. I began to feel every twig and branch I ran over. Each turn of the crank brought images of trout swimming upstream in my mind. And then I checked my rear wheel. Yep – I had flatted. I unscrewed the cap on the valve and discovered that the Presta stem locknut wasn’t secure. Libby has checked all of the tires before we set out. I chalked it up to inexperience (all her tubes use Schrader valves). As I pumped up the tube I thought to myself “gee, it could have been worse”. Tube now refilled with air I happily resumed my travels… for another fifty yards. My spirit deflated as quickly and completely as the tire did, especially after remembering I had sent the tool and patch kit along with the girls.

I was only a mile and a half from Ramcat and pushed on slowly (but effortlessly) by foot. To my great relief the girls decided to take a rest break and whittle. As I sprinted to the bathroom, I yelled at Lib to push the trike to the parking area and get the tool kit. After a little fumbling (big hands, arthritic fingers) we removed the rear wheel and extracted the tube. We quickly found the leak, but decided to just replace the tube. It was difficult to get the wheel positioned back into the dropouts (any suggestions?), but the two of us were able to coax it into place.

(photo - Gooby exploring.  Note the snow still on the trail)

(photo - bare, early Spring day on the Passage)

The girls were anxious to get to some food (great motivator, isn’t it?). I gave them a twenty and said I’d meet them in town. I thought Sister’s was now closed, but told them I’d meet up with them (with the car) at the C-store across the street. Once again, they raced on ahead. I caught a glimpse of them as they crossed the bridge into town. I reached the parking area and secured the trike on top of the car. The day was drawing to a close; the girls would be chowing down somewhere. I hit the ignition and nothing. Oh, I did have the normal buzzing of things electrical, but no juice to start the engine. Fortunately there were people at the Lucky Dog. I approached the group gentlemen and asked if someone knew of a place where I could get emergency service on a Sunday. They offered to try and jumpstart the car themselves and went to grab cables. Success was immediate. I offered to pay for the service, but was refused. He remembered me as a past repeat customer, and said he’d see me later in the season. By the way, the Lucky Dog Café opens on Friday, April 2nd. Sister’s closes at 2pm on Sunday, Gooby was found waiting at the gas station across the street, and Libby had gone on a “search and rescue mission” to find out what was taking me so long. She returned shortly and we loaded up the other bikes and headed home (without incident).