Everyone has something they are passionate about, be it travel or climbing, or painting. For one man, biking is that passion, the thing that drives his spirit. Recently, he decided to do something that had been burning inside him for a long, time, that was to ride his bike to Pittsburgh, PA from Hazleton, PA, a 270 mile journey over some of the hilliest parts of the state. There were times that he wanted to quit, and there was plenty of suffering, but Dale did it, and he is going to share that story with us right now, so take it away Dale!
-Patrick
It is by riding a bicycle that you learn the contours of a country best, since you have to sweat up the hills and coast down them. Thus you remember them as they actually are, while in a motor car only a high hill impresses you, and you have no such accurate remembrance of country you have driven through as you gain by riding a bicycle. ~ Ernest Hemingway
Based on Hemingway’s sentiment, I think it’s fairly safe to assume that I have become quite familiar with some of the loneliest, most desolate regions in Pennsylvania that could still be considered civilized. In the spaces between the known and the unknown, through the regions where few go and even fewer are welcome, up endless hills, down steep descents, seared by the sun, soaked by rain and chilled to shivering by harsh wind, I find that there are sections — whole stretches of road — that are permanently burned into my brain, and all because I chose to travel them by bicycle.
Images, thoughts and feelings linger in my mind, as though part of my soul is still out there, still sweating and suffering alone. When I close my eyes, I am there, and I’m left with the feeling that, wherever I go, for the rest of my life, parts of that road will be carried with me. As Hemingway said, no such accurate remembrance can be had except by bicycle. I simply cannot forget it.
For the love of adventure and the wish to see a dream through to the end, I conceived of an epic bike ride of 270 miles that would take place over 3 days. I would camp in 2 state parks and eventually go from Hazleton to Pittsburgh to stay for a few days before driving back. I had no idea what was in store for me, but I couldn’t wait for it, and the thing that made it all the more frightening and real was that it wasn’t something that was simply going to happen to me, it was something I was bringing upon myself.
Through the heavy use of Google Maps, I budgeted out a course of 90 miles per day, with the first day ending at Reed’s Gap State Park and Blue Knob State Park on the second. If I could achieve an average speed of 10 miles per hour, I estimated that I would reach my goal in about 9 hours. I threw in an extra hour to break for lunch and to catch my breath at around 45 miles. If all went well, if I didn’t get lost, I wouldn’t have to do more than 12 hours a day and have plenty of time to set up camp, cook a hot meal and relax. If only such plans went so accordingly… but then, what would make the trip memorable?
For me, I’ll never forget slogging up Cooper’s Gap Road on Day Two, pushing my heavily loaded bike in a pair of biking cleats along a steep trail of crushed limestone. 7 miles of climbing a seemingly endless ascent that just went up and up and up, eventually giving way to smooth, empty roads that looked like they hadn’t seen traffic in many years. Traveling through Rothrock State Park and the Alan Seeger Natural Area were absolutely breathtaking. As I biked through a path surrounded by impossibly tall trees, I marveled at how they reached back into infinity and thought about what a shame it would have been to have missed this. Was it worth that climb? Was it worth the aching feet and the risk of shredding my thin, slick road tires to bits? With so many miles to go, it was a gamble I couldn’t afford to lose, but I took my chances and was rewarded handsomely.
Unfortunately, the climb up Cooper’s Gap cost me 2 hours of time. Despite racing as hard as my body would allow, I couldn’t beat the sun at the end of the day. I was left to find Blue Knob State Park in the cover of night, to set up my tent by flashlight and search for firewood to keep me warm as the temperature dropped. …at least it wasn’t raining. As the fire slowly died, I ate my soup and listened to some music while children played and adults talked and laughed in the camp lots near mine. I was loving every minute of it.
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