The rail yard campsite we stayed at the night before our tires hit the pavement in Cumberland didn’t seem so bad after listening to one cyclist’s description of a Cumberland hotel full of meth addicts. Attila and I gathered wood from the brush and while I took my turn in a shower, Attila started a campfire that drew in the social cyclists. Thanks to The Bros, we had found our first class ticket for campsites. A large tent to camp under to ward off the “camping-in-a-cloud” effect? Yup. Warm, open-air individual shower rooms? Yup. We were greeted by a friendly attendant who seemed to know exactly what made a cyclist smile. Although we didn’t know the name of what we were looking for, and had to negotiate down a slight decline of grass and gravel to a rural roadway, we soon found the Gap Trail Bikers Campground. The Bros told us about a biker-only campsite “only about 1,000 yards up the trail” and we believed them, because who wants to carry the extra weight of a six-pack any further than 1,000 yards? We finished our meal and set out to find this campsite, eager to set up our gear before dark. In COVID times, Sue, Attila and I had opted for an out-and back. The Bros had opted to take the train from Pittsburgh to Cumberland, Maryland and bike 150 miles one way. We had all left the comfort of our homes and traveled hundreds of miles to bike the same trail, on the same day, at about the same pace, knowing that temps overnight would dip into the low 30s. After the obligatory conversation openers (Where’d you start from? Where ya headed?), the conversation revealed that Sue, I, and the three bearded, hip young things all hailed from the same suburb of Worthington, in Columbus, Ohio. We had just arrived at the Trailside restaurant when The Bros rolled in to purchase some craft beer. “The Bros” as Sue had dubbed them, leap-frogged us several times on day 2 as we headed west from Confluence to West Newton.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |