July 6, 2023
The Finish
Brunswick, Maryland to Mount Vernon, Virginia
Last night in my very nice room at the Holiday Inn Express I drank two huge bottles of Gatorade. I felt certain that I'd be up all night peeing. Nope. My body took it all up like a sponge.
While my room was great, the complimentary breakfast wasn't so hot. Literally. A bit of a disappointment.
I left at about 8:30. As I walked out of the hotel the heat and humidity hit me like a punch in the face. Gross.
After lubing my chain, I headed back to the canal. Last evening I rode a series of bike trails to the hotel. Rather than screw around with that I just bombed down the hill to the canal on the streets. It was much faster and I was able to see a little of the town.
Crossing two sets of railroad tracks was a little intimidating. After that I was on a stone and dirt access road for a while. When I finally reached the towpath I found it to be in tip top shape. Off I rode under the canopy of green, buzzing along at 11 or 12 miles per hour. Today's going to be a cinch, I thought.
About 23 miles into the day I arrived at White's Ferry. This landmark used to be a Potomac River crossing, providing DC area bicyclists with a 90-mile loop ride on the towpath and the Washington and Old Dominion rail trail in Virginia. Sadly, a financial dispute between the ferry owners and the land owners on the Virginia side has dry docked the cable ferry in recent years.
I was making good time and sweating buckets when I started hearing thunder. After a few miles the temperature dropped about ten degrees then came the deluge. I was soaked to the bone. The newly restored towpath held up fine, however. Rain and more rain for what seemed like a half hour or more. Then I came to a tree that had fallen across the trail. I wrangled The Mule over that one and came upon another. And another.
It was a pain getting past all this wreckage in the downpour but I took it in stride; at least the trees hadn't fallen on me. As I was approaching one rather large tree across the entire path, a mountain biker rode past. I looked down for a second and he was gone. How the hell did he ride through all that debris? I had to lug The Mule, one wheel at a time over three different parts of the tree. Once I got to the other side, I stopped to look my bike over, a man on a road bike flew by me. How the heck?
The rain finally stopped and I kept chugging along. The restored towpath was handing the water very well. I was impressed.
All good things must come to an end and the towpath restoration ended just downriver from the Seneca Viaduct. I was back to dodging puddles and muddy messes. The surface changed near Great Falls. For some reason in this area the Park Service uses some kind of sand. It was a sloppy mess and, in short order, so were The Mule and me.
At Fletcher's Boat House I crossed over to the paved Capital Crescent Trail. Thank you Jesus for asphalt.
The only thing slowing me down over the last 20 miles was the crunching sounds coming from my drivetrain and wheels. I must be destroying this bike, I thought. Of course, just as in Lockport, my granny gear was inaccessible because it was encumbered with grit.
No worries. I was on autopilot. I made it home in one piece and began the tedious process of de-gritting everything including my lower legs which had dried towpath caked on them. The Mule will be getting a second washing when I have more energy. Suffice it to say, its chain and cassette are toast. Also, the front tire, which I bought for my 2022 tour needs to be replaced. (No complaints. It served me well for 7,000 miles of loaded touring and another 2,000 miles of incidental riding.)
Today's ride: 74 miles (119 km)
Total: 2,665 miles (4,289 km)
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