pittsburgh, pa → cumberland, md
watching the storm from our host’s porch
day 69 began with a bang — a loud, thunderous, bang — and torrential rain. such a loud bang and such persistent rain, in fact, that we decided we couldn’t bike that day.
in retrospect, the storm had cleared up by the afternoon, so we may have been able to get a bit of riding in, had we known.
that said, we made the best decision with the information we had: we wore casual clothes instead of biking clothes and started driving to our airbnb in ohiopyle, pa (pronounced “ohio-pile”). the car can only take four people at a time, so we had to shuttle — timothy, joel, and i went first. then, joel came back and brought aja, sophia, and katherine.
saying goodbye to our hosts is always hard after spending two days with them
we’ve stayed with so many people on this trip that i’ve developed a bit of detachment with our hosts. if we’re only staying for one night, i’m mentally prepared that we’ll be leaving in the morning, from the moment that we arrive. of course, i still have fun and learn cool things, but there’s a bit of intentional distance that i put between myself and the hosts. i think it’s a defense mechanism against the sadness of leaving people i’ve become attached to.
but if we have two nights, that goes out the window. it’s been really hard for me to say goodbye to hosts that we’ve stayed with for two nights in a row. those are hosts where we’ve had rest days or teaching days — and that extra time, even though it’s not much, can really deepen my attachment to them.
timothy has joked that i have a habit of “cracking people open” which i think insinuates that i have a comfortable conversational style and a tendency to ask more intimate, pointed questions to strangers; questions that often lead to intimate answers. with two nights, i find myself being more patient, taking things a bit slower, and getting to know more layers of our hosts.
all of that makes it a lot harder to say goodbye.
last lunch in pittsburgh
we had a mostly quiet ride to ohiopyle. timothy drove. then i drove. joel slept, after not getting much sleep last night.
today was timothy’s birthday and he had some fun plans for how to spend it: on the river. while joel was driving back to pittsburgh and then returning to the airbnb, timothy and i went for a swim in the river.
you may recall that we don’t have the best track record with rivers (especially timothy, who described the provo river as “lazy” at one point), so if you’re like me, the thought of spokes entering a river might be making you a bit anxious right now. but, rest assured, this river adventure was tremendously safe — no phones, shoes, or senses of pride were lost (to my knowledge).
day 70 also began with rain. the last time i rode on a rained-on bike, the chain broke so in addition to my usual tire-squire duties, i lubed most of the bike chains. and then it started raining again. as joel likes to say, “lube can solve everything” (sadly, i don’t think it can dispel storms — especially not if aja is singing her rain song).
unlit tunnels are scary!
today we rode on the great allegheny passage (gap), which is a packed-limestone trail. we were nervous about being able to ride well with our thin tires (and my cursed, flat-prone bike) but we were feeling great after it took us 45 minutes to ride to a coffee shop that google maps predicted would take us twice as long.
i’ve noticed a lot more dark tunnels on this trail. unlike previous tunnels, gap tunnels can be unlit and long. aja said it was so dark that they felt like they were floating through water at some points. joel has a light on his bike, which made it slightly more manageable.
a gazebo where we sheltered from rain, later in the day
wouldn’t be a spokes day without some ice cream!
later, i emerged from a long tunnel to this scene:
the post-tunnel bench perch (a.k.a. “how tall is po the teletubby in real life?”)
it’s nice to stop and smell the roses :)
later, we crossed the mason-dixon line, which is the border between pennsylvania and maryland. it was also the boundary between the north and south during the civil war.
spokes at the pennsylvania/maryland border
during the day, we took to calling it the “state border” rather than the “mason-dixon line” for that reason.
we have a tradition of taking pictures at state borders, with state signs, but — at least for me — it felt weird to take a smiling picture at the mason-dixon line.
as present as we are, biking through the country; as much as we interact with everyday people; as much as we learn about the values of kids and adults in these communities, there are some things that can feel insanely distant. the mason-dixon line was one of those things for me: so much history that i didn’t know, and being physically present at that spot felt so devoid of context.
for dinner, i threw together some of our leftovers to try and get them finished up and katherine and timothy kept us entertained with a rotation of funny youtube videos.
76.72mi, 5:36:14 moving time
this is my last spokes blog post so, if i could just break the fourth wall for a moment, i am so thankful for all the people who read this blog:
i’m thankful that my teammates read it over breakfast and spend some time with me as i think through the previous day;
i’m thankful for the friends and family who zoom into pictures to make sure that everyone is uninjured and safe — and then email, call, and text to confirm;
i’m thankful for the hosts and students who follow our biking and teaching because they make this mission possible;
and, i’m thankful for people who don’t fit into any of those categories for tuning in to this crazy, transformative journey.
you add so much meaning to this trip, through your engagement and support.
i’m sure this trip has changed me in ways that i can’t identify right now, immersed in it. i’m sure i’ll miss it dearly. i’m sure i’ll be happy it’s finally over. i’m sure i’ll never know how my life would be different without it.
but, i guess, that’s just the trip paying itself forward, echoing into the future.
thank you,
parth