September 29, 2021
NYC to Washington DC to Point of Rocks, Maryland
Day 1
I can’t sleep. At 3:30 a.m., I get out of bed, get dressed and ride my bike up to the subway. I carry my bags, then my bike down the subway stairs, swipe my MetroCard and repeat down to the subway platform. I take the train to 34th Street.
I put the bike with attached bags on the escalator. At the subway exit are two cops staring at their phones. I startle them by asking, “How ya doin’?,” hoping they will keep an eye on my bike while I carry my bags up to the street. I ride through the dark, quiet city to Moynihan Station on W 33rd between 8th and 9th Avenues.
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It is 4:30 in the morning. I arrive at an entrance and a guy sitting on a chair inside the station tells me it doesn’t open till 5 a.m. An arriving employee tells me Penn Station is open, Yeah, like I want to hang out in that rat hole.
I sit with my back against the pillar of the former post office. At 5 a.m., when the chair guy opens the doors, a homeless woman and I enter the station. She beelines for the bathroom. I look for an elevator to get me to a ticket agent.
I passed numerous people sleeping on the subway and subway platforms. The woman rushing to the bathroom wakes me up to the fact that my problems are minor compared to many people in this city. I am out here playing.
The ticket agent informs me that there are no bikes allowed on the Acela and books me on a train that leaves 2 minutes later and arrives a half hour after the Acela. I get a 17 dollar voucher and a lost night's sleep. Although I blast Amtrak, whenever I interact with an employee face-to-face, they go out of their way to help me. Amtrak’s problem is at the management level.
Eventually I load the bike on the train and I am directed to leave it in the handicapped spot. There is nothing to secure my pannier-laden bike to. I lean it against the train wall. During the course of the three-and-half-hour journey, the bike falls over. I leave it on the train floor.
When we arrive at Union Station, I head to the mens room to change into my bike clothes. That should have been thought out better; it was fragrant. I buy a five dollar liter of water. That also should have been thought out better. The clerk and I both chuckle at the price. I am happy to have made it this far.
Washington, DC is a beautiful city. It is great for bicycling. I will be back to spend a few days tooling around. I visit the Capitol, right outside the station. I ride by the White House, the Washington Monument and an ongoing Covid Memorial.
I should have sought out the Supreme Court for the branches of government trifecta.
After being distracted by DC, I start my search for the elusive mile marker 0 of the C&O Canal Towpath. After a few construction detours and with the invaluable help of the “bike it” map published by the Allegheny Trail Alliance, I find the start.
I later realize that I immediately went off trail riding through a waterfront area that had “walk bike” signs. (It was still early and empty.) I ride a little and find a staircase with a wheel ramp to put me on the towpath.
After an hour or so on the path, I stop at an area with canoe rentals and a snack sign. An older gentleman on a recumbent bicycle was there. He tells me how comfortable they are and offers me a ride. I took his recumbent for a whirl; the difference was startling. We get to chatting and Reed is impressed by my exploits. He squeezes my bicep saying I must be strong. He quickly realizes that bicycles build up legs and squeezes my thigh. We talk about touring and camping and Reed mentions that he doesn’t like the “critters” as he makes a scurrying motion with his fingers down my leg.
I thank Reed for the ride and go in search of the snack bar, thinking at least someone is interested in me.
The snack bar isn’t open so I put together a pb and honey sandwich and eat by the river. I later pass Reed on the trail and wave, not yet ready to get recumbent. The towpath is a dirt road for the first 20 miles. After that, the surface smooths out. It appears that some recent maintenance had been done. The path is great with the canal on the right and the Potomac on the left. I stop at the Great Falls and observe the power of the river.
Somewhere south of Leesburg, I take a break and an elderly couple walks by. We speak a bit and the woman tells me that I am traveling in the wrong direction. She says she had ridden the trail from Cumberland years ago and from that direction it was all downhill. I ask her if she had ever ridden from Cumberland to Pittsburgh. Her husband says, “Pittsburgh wasn’t there yet.” I start laughing, thinking the husband is goofing on his wife’s age. He quickly follows up with, “I mean the trail wasn’t there.” Too late, I’m still laughing. They turn and walk away.
My sister Susan rides her bike from Point of Rocks and meets me on the trail. We ride back to her car together. Her husband Richard makes a great pasta dinner. My niece and her boyfriend drop by. Marissa brings me a fancy ice gel pack for my aching knees that really helps. She tells a great story about almost convincing her boyfriend that he has to rent a cowboy hat in the Denver airport for a wedding they’re attending “Because everyone wears cowboy hats at formal occasions in Colorado.” I have a great family.
Today's ride: 55 miles (89 km)
Total: 55 miles (89 km)
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