BLT–THE AIRSTREAM WAY

• HOME BAKED BREAD from the Opera House shop -- white, light as air, grilled lightly by a loving hand .
• LETTUCE from the Springs PA Amish Farmers Market  --  buttery, frilly Bibb still wet with dew.
• Tomatoes from same, but likely to have been grown far away.  (Some improvement can be expected here about mid July.)
• and BACON, Lovely Bacon -- Kuenster’s , sold by the slice at the produce stand in Confluence and lovingly  fried up on a vintage Coleman stove….

Really hits the spot after a long morning of fishless fishing!

A round of good byes

So after nearly two weeks in Confluence (a new record for us) we made a round of goodbyes.  It's clear we must return to finish the Northern part of the GAP and just as well because we have loved our time here.


The fish gave us a grudging goodbye in the morning.  Al caught one on a fly that should work well when we get back. After Awesome BLTs, we drove the backroads to Meyersdale checking out the Amish farms and the great views.  We kept talking to Ester about the success the little visitor's center was having after getting a grant to hire two clerks, that we kept adding to our stash of tee shirts, DVDs and stuff.
Then on to the Rockwood for more BREAD and a fresh peach pie, and into Confluence to score more BACON.  


We dropped by Pam and Bill's to say bye and (wonder of wonders) Bill stopped mowing and a long conversation ensued which led to a nice dinner at Rivers Edge Cafe and Peach pie from the Opera House.       
We met even more folks from town and enjoyed ourselves immensely.  


Back at camp we said goodbye to Tim (who was worried about us coming in late --  he reminds us of Jeff every day.) 


 We took apart and put away what we could and settled in for the usual restless night before departure. Goodbye GAP --we will pass this way again.

Beyond Ohiopyle…

Because we have been here over a week, we have perhaps become accustomed to how beautiful a place this is.

Today we started at Ohiopyle just as the rafters launched below the falls and caught glimpses of them all the way to their takeout. 






It was cool and green and Patty was flying  on the downhills.  Her shoulders still tense up and hurt, so we plan stops at 3 miles on the way out and 1 1/2 miles on the way back.   She agrees to this, but then rides hard between stops…. Of course, Al finds something to amuse himself at stops…
 
Back at Ohiopyle, we caught the bakery just at closing time.  Julie is just exhausted and everybody is anxious about the first days business –lots of goodies to sell, but the signs aren’t up, the steps aren’t finished and three little boys are running amuck in the streets with new “Indian sets” .  We were greeted by the “chief “ with a plastic bowie knife in his hand.
“The sign says closed, but you can still get anything in the case….just not sandwiches.”
“ Here, just put your bikes there. “  
“Come on in…”
We bought a happy birthday pie for Leslie since we could get it home in the car this time. Poor Julie was asleep on her feet and The Baker was looking forward to carpentry work after hours and starting the baking again at 3AM.  We wish them good luck and blessings.

Exhausted Julie--manager/mom

Our Baker/dad/ carpenter

Covering old ground

Beautiful "Turkeyfoot"

Because the Yukon is in chambers with His Honor the Mayor, we must re-ride the trail from here to Ohiopyle rather than strike out for some of the Northern sections we haven't yet seen.  Not a hardship,  as this is a beautiful section and our friends the Hartsells will be paddling along here and we may spot them. We will end up with over 200 miles on the GAP this trip, but may not "complete".  We will, however, cover some parts four times.

THERE ARE TIDINGS OF GREAT JOY, for born just yesterday in the town of Ohiopyle is a BAKERY which shall be to all carbo loaders a place of infinite delight.  Fresh baked breads and rolls, bagels and donuts, signature chocolate chip cookies (with two kinds of chocolate) AND PIE --beautiful cream pies, which, alas, have no chance or surviving ten  miles in a Pannier...we loaded up and had a great time with Julie who has seen her husband's dream come to fragrant fruition and is so excited (and sleep deprived) that she talked us through every scrumptious product and  kept adding samples to our bags. We wish them every success, with the bakery, their farm and their three small children. WOW!  

Unproductive fishing in pretty places

This area is blessed with beautiful water and lots of stocked trouts, but our stumbling methods haven’t produced ANY fish.


THERE ARE LARGE NEOPREME HATCHES…SEE THEM FLUTTER?

Pretty fisherwoman

But we have been singularly unsuccessful despite our sartorial splendor.  The worm and spinning rod works well from the tiny perches by the river (at the bottom of 50 foot slides) , but fly fishing has not produced for us.  We will doggedly continue…

Springs PA Farmers Market

—BEING A FULL ACCOUNT OF A VERY FULL DAY
When we wandered home last night, there was a note  from Pam and Bill inviting us to drive “over the mountain” to attend the Springs Farmers Market.  Bill planned to shoot pictures there and then on to other assignments, but  they would drop us at Meyersdale for a 32 mile DOWNHILL ride home.

 “ We’re In!”  and at 8:30 we were loaded and driving over the Highest Point in Pennsylvania with Bill giving a detailed narrative of the area, past and present. (Bill Metzger not only NAMED the Great Allegheny Passage, but wrote the book on the history of the trail, mile by rich historical mile.)
We dropped down from Mount Davis into a broad valley with lots of Amish farms.  Here and there Bill pointed out vestiges of old industries, mines and RR crossings long since obscured by time. 

Veggies

Ahhh, Bunnies...

Springs Pennsylvania isn’t large, but the Farmers Market spread over several acres and two long sheds, the entrance signaled by two little Amish boys with an open pen –“PUPPIES FOR SALE.”  Inside there were early vegetables, breads, jams, great hanging baskets from the Yoders, old tools and assorted flea market stuff mostly courtesy of the “English”. 

PAM AND PATTY AMIDST THE YODER'S FLORALS

Bill discussing business with Mr Yoder and the kids

Then it was off to the Meyersdale Station (the great displays and photos inside are Bill’s work –“paid for the porch we’re sitting on…”   We unloaded bikes and took off  while Pam and Bill set off form more photographic assignments, but not before telling us the whole story of the old couple across the street who disturb the peace daily shouting at each other and their four dogs.
We’ll have to hurry in order to eat lunch at the Opera House in Rockwood (again) and buy more bread (again) and get back in time for the Volunteer fire barbeque on the Confluence town square.

MORE BREAD PLEASE

It’s great going slightly downhill without paying the “price”. The Opera House sees a lot of riders on weekends, but there are great people to wait with.
We got back to the Airstream with barely enough time to ride into town for the chicken and the Polka music.
We were lucky to share the waiting line with our neighbors from West Virginia –the Hartzells. Tim has really been helpful with advice on my car problems (see sidebar), Tim, Leslie and the kids –Nick, Ashley, and David - are a delight to watch  playing and laughing together.  We want to adopt all of them. We all devoured a half chicken and sides and the boys introduced Al to “Gobbleberry Ice Cream from Sisters.  Are you ready for this?  Blueberry ice cream with cherries and white chocolate chunks.  Oh, yes.
Then there was the German Band that tuned up in the park pavilion,  gaily attired with an announcer that spoke like Lawrence Welk with bell ringers and costumed ladies dancing.   Well everybody took a turn dancing in the grass and sidewalks, much to the embarrassment of Al and Ashley.  The band was really pretty bad so Tim declared an upcoming rain event and we biked home for showers and (surprisingly) Tim and the boys went fishing. Leslie suspects this was the plan all along.  The old people showered and retired early to some nice cool 60 degree sleeping weather.

A day of fits and starts

It started at 6:15 with Al trying to satisfy some credit card’s new security requirements on line.
“Honey, what’s your Social Security number again?”
( He really, really thought she was stirring around in bed –- Really)  So you can imagine how Pat’s day started….
It was cool and cloudy and a great day to go fishing.  (we had to have the car to Mayor Al –-see “side bar” – so we couldn’t be riding all day.  After anguishing at the hardware store counter yesterday, we (Actually Patty ) had decided to spring for the expensive non resident fishing licenses.  Patty really really wanted to catch some of those trouts.  So, town chores: bike store, hardware store, post office, grocery store (maybe two –there is a well regarded produce stand).  We’re off.
But first we must dump the trailer, cause we may not have a car to pull it tomorrow when his honor starts work. We accomplish this and are fully set up again when our neighbor Tim suggests that we may want to gain another day here (in case his honor is slowed by civic duties or lack of parts) by MOVING TO ANOTHER SITE.  Pat negotiates this; we move and set up a second time. (There is a 26 step checklist to this setting up ritual).
OK, Town Chores: bike shop, hardware store, post office, grocery store (maybe two, there is a highly regarded produce stand.)  We make a mental list of stuff we will need for our shopping, put them in Pat’s handlebar bag. We’re off biking to town…

• At Confluence Cyclery, Bob cheerfully adjusts Al’s brake and refuses to replace the frayed cable. “not necessary.”  Pat remembers she forgot the post cards and returns to the campground. 
• Pat returns from the PO, but remembers she forgot the the black handlebar bag and checkbook to buy fishing license.  Pat really really wants a fishing license.
• Pat returns and finds Al finishing his test ride and (without wallet) unable to purchase more bike gear. Al promises Brad we will return…
• We present ourselves to Nancy at the True Value. She smiles because she remembers us and the other girls smile because everyone in Confluence knows our whole story.  We dutifully provide our most secret numerical data to the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania’s representative and her dedicated computer terminal.  It’s not taking it; we review our criminal history and recent parking violations in sundry states and look innocent.  Time Passes.  Al, knowing how grouchy Pat is when she can’t fish and how SSLOW the service is at Sister’s Restaurant, offers to slip next door and put in an order for the special of the day.  The waitress, who was not on duty the first time we almost starved waiting for our food here and has not seen Pat darken her door today asks, “ And what for her?”  She asks, because this is Confluence and everyone already knows our story. Al assures her that we are old and will split.  This accomplished, Al returns to True Value where the Commonwealth’s appointed representative (lovely Nancy) is not yet in contact with the Commonwealth’s main frame, but news, which moves with frightening speed in Confluence has arrived that no one in town has computer service – the bank, the lawyer’s, not the Lucky Dog saloon.
• Al and Pat now take a booth at Sisters, wait the traditional lengthy interval and are served their hamburger, fries and pickle spear, all neatly bisected because the cook had heard about us and thought we would like it that way. We paid by credit card using a “knuckle buster” because WE knew how things worked at Sisters.

“Lucky thing you have that “knuckle buster”; all the computers in town are down.”
“ I KNOW.” 

• With two panniers of groceries, Al and Patty return to camp.  Opps, forgot to return to the Produce stand.  They abandon all thoughts of vegetables and eat  large bowls of Raspberry Chocolate Chip ice cream, Patty fishing out the chips and putting them in Al’s bowl. Patty does not believe that peanut butter or chocolate chips  belong in ice cream. Al forgot this, really, but everybody in Confluence knows…
• Patty keeps calling True Value.  no answer. no long distance at all in town.
• Al meets his honor the Mayor in his garage, gets a tour of the very impressive projects underway including a 1941 Chevy.  Two bicyclists,  mistaking our Al for an all-knowing Confluence resident, ask directions to the dam.  Al, getting into the spirit of things, gives them precise directions (because he knows.) They admire the old truck parked outside; Al volunteers info about the 1941 Chevy inside. Another tour ensues.  Later, the elusive part number of the gear train is discovered and a part must be ordered. Al volunteers his cell, since HE KNOWS there is no long distance phone service in Confluence today.
• Resigned to a fishless afternoon, Patty and Al take a long walk to the top of the dam trailing husks of salted peanuts behind. At the turnaround point, true to tradition, It started to RAIN. I’m betting that you, loyal reader, knew that was coming.

GAP–The highlight Reel

Then again, there are those sections of most bike trails that blow us away. The GAP IS beautiful. It has been lovingly planned and executed by local communities with lots of help from dedicated volunteers and some serious money from contributors large and small. The surface is great and the signage on all the twisting back roads makes it easy to find hidden trailheads. But this section, from Garrett up and over the Continental Divide and through the Big Savage Tunnel has all the great structural sites crammed into one section. There are 1900 foot viaducts that soar over valleys , curving viaducts leading to old iron bridges spanning creeks, the Continental Divide, for crying out loud and then the Tunnel which is nearly 3/4 mile long and COOL in every sense of the word. At the South end of the tunnel is a view that sweeps all the way back to the beginning of the trail in Cumberland, Maryland. (On an autumn day, when the steam train that carries sightseers up to Frostburg is pumping out white vapor, you can trace the path as it curves and climbs.) PROFESSIONAL photos in the earlier links will show all this to best advantage, but here are a few personal ones.










This family from Vermont camped with us the night of the great rain. Lots of funny stories there. They are riding Pittsburg to DC. She is eleven and he is barely seven and last year they rode “The Little Train” Trail near Montreal. They usually go 30 miles, but since the last 20 miles from where we snacked with them to Cumberland is DOWNHILL, They will do more today. Then it’s pool and Hot tub says Mom.
“And STEAK!”, says the little guy.

The GAP–Markleton to Garrett

Truth be told, there are some parts of any bike trail that are boring --  not ugly or smelly, but just too much of the same.  This section was a little like that; the weather was cool and a little threatening and the trail left the main branch of the Casselman river (now stained by last night’s rain) and followed a lesser watercourse.  The highlight of the trip was Rockwood, a “trail town” which does its best to welcome commerce from the trail riders.



 They were improving the entry ramp where the trail crossed the highway and we followed the bicycle symbols painted in the roadway into town.  It took a side street with minimum grade (some trail towns are perched on steep side hills) and led us to the Old Opera House shops.
Lots of shops. One vendor has pastries and serves drinks and soup.  The Next is where you acquire a sub or some pizza.  Other shops sell gifts, local food items, wood stoves, cast iron skillets, “I’m not carrying THAT” tee shirts, decorative items—you get the idea.  We had Soup and a great sub, but the big discovery was the home baked bread.

Oh my, the Bread!

Because Al has one pannier on the bike (in a vain attempt to look a little like the “thru-bikers”), we had plenty of room for a huge loaf of bread.
When I saw the bread I was thinking ….”If this tastes half as good as it looks…..!!!”  So in the pannier it went and so light that Al didn’t even notice.    After only a few slices with our dinner that night we decided that it was as good as MiMaw used to make and better than we ever get anywhere these days.  Soooo breakfast toasted on the griddle on the stove with jelly, PB & J sandwiches for lunch…OH Nooooo only a half loaf left…..Not to worry on our ride to the next starting point we HAVE to go through Rockwood.  As luck would have it they had 2 small loaves left today, so I grabbed them and all is well.  I had to laugh….this is almost as good as Ice Cream.  This has been another small problem, we are out of ice cream and the grocery stores in Confluence CLOSE AT 5:00, and we are usually riding our bikes till 6:00.  I guess we will be making an early morning run to the grocery store.  Might need to get some fruit and veg’s too.  (That looks better at check out). :0)
                                                                                   (posted by Patty)
      Thus provisioned, we rode on with frequent stops.
  At one, by a pretty waterfall, the Fairly Grandmother was resting quietly when out of the dewy mists appeared a ….
….Water Nymph.   and a sprightly one she was, frolicking in the spray, and giving the Fairly Grandmother some concern about tumbling and lacerations and emergency helicopter rescues (and other such grandmotherly concerns). The kindly uncle and Al discussed maps, not fully appreciating the grace and mirth displayed before them.
I do not think this displeased the Water Nymph, but only shortly later, as we separated, the heavens opened and we had another downpour.  Then followed a repeat of yesterday –riding back into the sunlight, grit covering our shoes, our drivetrain sounding like a can of rocks, and a major bike cleaning.
 




      Each night, the campsite across from ours fills with “thru-bikers”. Al curries favor with these morally superior beings by offering to charge their electronics or other such menial tasks.  When we came back tonight, one guy we talked to last night came by to say good bye.  They had planned to ride to Ohiopyle for the white water rafting and back tonight, but their plans had changed as the water changed to brown from the big rain.  The next victims were a couple –a woman at least six foot tall and a guy who looked like Colin Fletcher,the Welsh backpacking Guru.  They watched our balletic movements as we rinsed bikes at the dump station and hung our stuff to dry and came by. Al made his standard offer of free electricity.
“ You must be the couple from Alabama (or Mississippi?) who have been everywhere…”
Ah yes. ‘Tis good to be recognized by one’s betters.. We had a great conversation with “PsychoPatty” , AT ‘03 and were truly appreciative of her accomplishment. Hope to see them again.  
    There is some discussion of our Patty adopting the trail name “CYCLOPATTY”.  (She really never warmed up to Al’s last suggestion –WELLBUTIN –” An anti-depressant with no known sexual side effects.” 
Your comments are welcomed….

Julie

UMBRELLA CAPE BY GRANDDAD

           This is Julie.  She and her granddad camped near us as they finished a couple  40+ mile days on their recumbent tandem, pulling a gear trailer.  Granddad was wasted, but Julie, in her chic umbrella cape, was up early walking to town for breakfast and then checking up on all the fishermen.
“This fish is grouchy, so I’m not going to hold him up too long…”

Granddad is president of The Pittsburg Trail Association.
“Emperor Actually.” 
They left from a dedication of the last link in the trail puzzle—a major feat of negotiation—and planned to visit an aunt with a new baby several days down the trail. 
Age, weather and injuries dictated an early end to the trip, but Julie was just as upbeat and quietly philosophical as her Granddad.
“This trip has given me a chance to get to know you, Granddad.”
We helped pack them up in Gram’s rescue pickup and headed out South on the GAP ourselves.  It was cloudy and threatening sprinkles, but we were off to see Markleton and the Pinkerton Tunnel bypass or “shoofly”. 
It was easy to see why Granddad decided not to tackle this.  It was up –- slightly up, but interminably UP.  We climbed alongside the Castleman River for six miles then around the Shoofly (a train detour built long ago when the tunnel burned.) 
We lunched at Markleton (a bridge and a Post Office) and headed back just as the clouds opened up. We suited up, turned on lights and pushed on.
“This ain’t our first wet rodeo.”

Misty wet ride, but all downhill from here...

...even water to drink.

Ohiopyle

    
          The GAP from Confluence to Ohiopyle is all about the river.  George Washington camped at the junction of three rivers  (a place then called Turkeyfoot) and declared it a good location for a fort.  (Then he went off and started the French and Indian war.) 
Future citizens called it Confluence, but the waters still run cool beneath green wooded hills to the FALLS near Ohiopyle which turned Washington back.


The trail is wide and well drained running flat along the side hill 50 feet above the water level.  The trees are tall and the sun filtering through is magic. Little waterfalls course down the hillside after last night’s rain.
It’s crowded on a Saturday morning and most riders were coming toward us from the rental places in Ohiopyle.  Lots of family groups.  There are also a fair number of fishermen as this is Trophy Trout water.  As the sun rises, the plastic boat and raft people launched and we paralleled their progress down the river. This is the easy Upper Yoch: the big water starts below the falls.  
We dally around the falls which are center stage in Ohiopyle. (The town is surrounded by 20,000 acres of  State Park) Busy, busy place with outfitters and food places and lots of milling around.  Taking Tom and Carole’s early morning advice, we ride past town to watch the rafts and yaks from the high bridge as they entered the heavier water.

Back in town we had a great sandwich and salad at the Firefly Grill and headed back.  This color coordinated couple was on a B&B tour which would take them to Cleveland. 


In camp we continue to collect stories from the fishermen and every story brings us closer to anteing up the $52 for an out of state license…
After dinner we meet a grandpa and his eight year old “stoker” on a recumbent tandem bike.  They are setting up camp near us and we hope to hear some more about their trip down from Pittsburgh. 

The Great Allegheny Passage–the GAP

We are in the final packing stages –the Serpico clan is off to Maine, and twobikes will be headed for Confluence Pa to set up a central campsite for day rides on the GAP.  Pre Airstream we would have ridden this 150 mile trail end to end (and then wondered how to get back.)  We still think that method of touring is a little more adventuresome (read unpredictable -- full of uncertainties about food, lodging and weather ) but this trip we are emulating our heroes, Tom and Carole, who have perfected this type of RV supported bike touring.  Reports will follow, but as a warm-up, take a look at these videos.

Beautiful introduction to the GAP
a little history of the Gap

I hear Banjo Music…

We attended another of the second Sunday concerts at the Mount Laurel NJ library hosted by our own Joanie Serpico.  We have discovered that the audience of regulars have a wide and eclectic taste in music and these concerts serve up groups of surprisingly high quality.  The octogenarians  also have quite specific tastes in snack choices, but they ALL love Mrs. Serpico.
The “Banjo Rascals” have  played on and off Broadway, The Kennedy center, TV and movies. When Joanie did a shout out to her parents “from Alabama”, they modified their patter and play list to cover every song ever known to include Alabama short of “came from Alabama with a banjo on my knee…" --which was just as well.  Several appreciative audience members welcomed us to New Jersey and told us how much Joanie has done for their enjoyment.   Yeah, we like her too.