to zero

Twenty.

Two. Zero.

A marriage milestone was passed this week.  It brought no fanfare; no celebration; no well-wishes; no joy.  Numbers, at this point, are mere legal technicalities.  The nice round number twenty being the anti-climatic climax.

Climax, because there is no anticipated twenty-first.

Twenty years ago, boxes were being unpacked and our stuff mingled.  Ironically, twenty years later, boxes are being packed, and our stuff divided.

Sad.

Sad, but necessary.

This has been coming for quite some time.  I resisted it for a while.  A long while.  But, I've since thrown in the proverbial towel.  It will soon be time to make it legal, and I concur.

But, how do you forget?

How do you forget the anniversary of the happiest day of your life.  Even the pain of divorce can't alter the reality of the happiness of my wedding day.  It may seem surreal now, since my marriage has lacked happiness for years, but I can't just pretend like it wasn't one of the all-time happiest days of my life.  From my current vantage point, I can't help but wish I'd never made those vows twenty years ago.  Except the kids... I would not wish them away.  But, you know what I'm saying... perhaps my life would have been much happier had I taken a different path twenty years ago.  Life does have re-starts, but there are no re-dos.

I don't think I will ever forget.  I've never been the stereotyped guy that forgets his anniversary.  I likely never will, though I might like to.  Because, even when the numbers cease to tally, the day will always be the anniversary of a wonderful day.  For a guy who tends toward nostalgia and sentimentality... that isn't easy.  What once was one of the happiest of days, will likely rank among the saddest of days.

Twenty.

Two. Zero.

Where to from here?

To zero.

make a difference

Yesterday was National Make a Difference Day.  235 volunteers from my church signed up and volunteered in a number of service projects across our local area.  This year, my schedule allowed me to participate and I asked Lily to join me.  A few weeks ago, we visited the table in the church lobby together, to decide what project was a fit for us.  It was a pretty easy pick... and we got the last available slot on the sign-up sheet for this one.  Our chosen mission was to help throw a fall party for the residents of a local home for adults with intellectual and developmental disabilities.  With a beloved son/brother with such disabilities, we knew this was in our wheelhouse.

But, I'm not sure who made the most difference.

The residents may not know it, but they made a difference for me.  The majority of them were extremely warm and welcoming; freely giving hugs, smiles, handshakes, high-fives, conversation, and even a few [slightly uncomfortable] pecks on the cheek. Although a bit reserved, I rolled with it, knowing first-hand that my son and other similarly-disabled folks struggle conforming to what is often deemed socially appropriate behavior.  The beauty of that, though, is that these folks are just real, genuine people.

I left their home feeling happy.  Not happy because of anything I did.  But, happy because I had been shown love and appreciation. They really made my day.

I also left their home feeling encouraged.  See, Benny's future weighs pretty heavy on me, as a father.  I do not know what the future looks like for my son, but I do not foresee him living completely independently.  I'm not scripting that dependence for him, but I try to see things as a realist and, therefore, I feel like he may need some level of assistance for the remainder of his life.  I really struggle with what that will look like when his mom and I are no longer able to look after him, either due to age or death.

What then?

At some point, all three of his siblings have expressed that they can see him living part of the time with them in their adulthood.  That they would each recognize the need, as kids, to look out for him in adulthood, is huge for me.  However, I also know it is not completely realistic... and is it even fair?  They will have lives of their own, and their brother may not fit well with their adult lives.  And, that is completely okay.

But, he's my son.  I love him like crazy and I want him to be cared for and loved.  I want him to have a productive and meaningful life.  As a dad and provider, I try to manage my resources well by living modestly and frugally.  Supporting a family of six on a single income, though, is not easy.  I am not on track for much of a retirement and I certainly don't have much abundance to leave a fat trust behind to help him along.

So, I often stress about what his future will look like when he can no longer depend on me.

The folks I met today made a difference by giving me hope.  Facilities... institutions... homes... whatever you call them, the thought of that for Benny often saddens me.  But, today, I was encouraged.  I was encouraged that there are places where folks with developmental disabilities are loved, valued, and have a sense of family.  The folks I met today love their home and love each other like family.  I talked to many who had lived there many years and they had formed close friendships.  I ate lunch with a somewhat elderly man who wore a ring on his left hand.  I asked him the significance of it and he pointed to the lady across the table from us and said she bought it for him and that they had been "together" twenty four years.  She then showed me the ring he had bought her and verified twenty four years. She told me they were best friends and they look out for each other, proving that understanding true loyalty has very little to do with one's level of intellect.

Many of the residents who are able are also employed at the workshop next door.  Three of the residents told me about the work they do and asked me what I did.  They all three proudly handed me the business card that the workshop prints for them, declaring their name and their title of "Labor Specialist".  Another man showed me a loom that he works with in his free time.  He told me that he and his girlfriend (pointing her out across the room) make scarves and hats for cancer patients and baby blankets to give away.  He showed me one of the blankets that he was working on and it was very nice.

I am very thankful to the many people who make a difference in my son's life, and I was very glad I took a few hours of my day to try to give a little of that back.  But, the love and gratitude, and the hope for my son's future that I received was probably more valuable than anything I actually gave.  Thank you, Eddie, Frank, Ron, Julie, Bonnie, Wally, Glenn (and others, whose names now escape me) for making a difference for me!

cadence

This.

I wasn't quite ready for this.

Yeah, I knew it was Senior Night.  But, in the chaos of life, I hadn't really processed what that meant.

Until he arched his back, thrust his quad drums forward, and hammered out the signature Tiger Band percussion half time opening.

Then...

Then it hit me that this was the last time I would see this son... with those drums... on this field.

Even still, the emotions of that realization didn't fully hit home until I later pondered posting pictures to facebook and I decided to grab his first band pictures to put with today's.

Yeah, then it hit me just how fast they grow up.

I'm a very proud band dad.  I have loved every second of every band concert and half-time show I have been privileged to attend, and I'll still be attending for my other band kids.  But, I'm really going to feel the void in the percussion section.

Dylan, I'm proud of you and the eight years of work you have put into band.  From a parent's perspective, it feels like I ordered your first set of bells such a short time ago. Then it was cymbals, snare, quads, and... boom... Senior Night!  Thanks for making me a proud band Dad!  I love you... YMFD!

Life marches forward.  Rapid is the cadence...

7,000 words

I don't pay much attention to many of the "fad" posts that cycle through facebook. You know, the "copy this to your wall and then tag me" type of posts. Once in a while I will engage in one, but not often.

However, one of my best good friends, and fellow blogger, posted one that really intrigued me.  I initially thought it might be fun to do, but then I really got into it.  The challenge was as follows:

"Seven days. Seven black and white photos of your life. No humans. No explanation."

Much of my social media posts involve my kids, since they are a big part of my life.  But the task of doing a "photo documentary" that represents your life in seven non-human photos was an interesting challenge.  And, the exercise of working in black and white photography was something in which I had little experience.  I shot all my pics with my phone, in color, then used filtering to convert to black and white.  I found that a lot of color photography looks fairly bland when converted to black and white, so I really worked at trying to find some contrast and using filtering to get what I felt were some quality shots. I'm pretty happy with them.

I put a lot of thought into the composition of each photo.  I actually made a list of possible subject matter, each one significant to my life at this point in time.  I then narrowed it to seven photo ideas.  I chose not to "re-purpose" any of my existing photos, but took all seven photos within the seven day posting window and specific to this challenge (disclaimer: I obtained day 5 from my church facebook page because I couldn't get this actual similar shot with the Sunday morning activity). The majority were taken and posted the same day, but a few were taken a day or two ahead.  For the most part, the order they are posted has very little significance.  The purpose of this blog post is not to explain the photographs, but to document the experience. I feel like it is an exercise I'd like to repeat every so many years, so you may see another batch of my black and whites scrolling through your newsfeed at some future time.

If a picture is truly worth a thousand words, then here is my life... in 7,000 words!

he exists!

The sun shone nearly horizontally through the forest, reflecting between trees, and casting larger-than-life shadows of everything in it's wake. My senses were awash in light.  And sound.  A cacophony of sound as nocturnal creatures awoke, joining diurnal creatures prancing about, exhausting the final remnants daylight.  And, I... I invaded this space for an after work hike.

The forest is oft where my soul is most alive. This evening, all was well in nature's sanctuary.  But, as I pushed deeper into the forest, I started to feel as though I were not alone.  I sensed a presence near.  I looked around, expecting to see something to account for the premonition... perhaps a deer watching me as it grazed.

Nothing.

I saw nothing.  Yet, I sensed it... a presence other than my own.

The woods can be an eerie place as nightfall approaches and descends. Dusk and the cover of darkness makes the call of a hoot owl as a blast of a horn, or a scampering rodent as a roaming beast. At times, an unexplainable shiver may go down my spine, though it is not cold... or beads of sweat form on my brow, though it is not hot... or hairs stand on end, though the air is not charged with static.

It sometimes feels that the forest holds secrets.  Perhaps I am not alone, though I enter the woods alone?

And this... this was one such evening.  My senses heightened.  I looked.  I listened.  It was there.  I could sense it.

A distant snap of a twig put my already heightened senses on even higher alert.  I now focused in the direction of the twig.

Footsteps?

Were those footsteps?

Yes. Straining, I now could discern footsteps.  Animal? Human?

Rhythmic.  The footsteps were rhythmic as though a biped, but the premonition did not feel that of solely another hiker.  It almost felt the presence of both animal and human.  A man-animal?  What was out there?

Whatever it was, it was clear now that it was moving in my general direction.  I was on a possible collision course with this unknown twilight creature of the forest.  

Curiosity compelled me to continue hiking on my course, though a spine shiver warned me, otherwise.

Footsteps louder now.  I was about to cross paths with whatever man-animal was out there. Instinctively, I reached for my phone and activated my camera.

Rounding a bend, startled, I saw it!  Man and animal!  Upright as man, black and furry as animal! 

"He exists!", chuckled the upright walking man with his black and furry Labrador!

I'm pretty sure he was referencing the plywood silhouette in the woods that we both spotted at the same time.

Or was he?

Were we chuckling about a silhouette or were we two men of the forest, acknowledging that we are not alone... for he exists?

Ohio & Erie Canal ride 2017

When I was a much younger man, attending college in the early to mid-90's near the Cuyahoga Valley National Recreation Area (CVNRA), I once shoved books aside and spent most of a Saturday riding the Ohio and Erie Towpath Trail through "The Valley".  There was just a hair under 20 miles of continuous trail constructed then, From Botzum Farm to Lock 39.  At the time, I hadn't ridden a bike any distance to speak of (though I dreamed of doing so) and the 40 round-trip miles sounded a bit impossible.  Yet, I was compelled to see where it went, so I decided I would embark and ride until I felt I was half-tired and see how far I got before turning around.

I rode it all.

And, it was great!

And, it was miserable!

Purely speaking, you don't need fancy biking shorts and gloves to pad your hands and tush to ride distance-- I know and have met numerous riders that scoff at such things-- but it does make a ride much more enjoyable, and enjoyment is a good reason to ride.  So, after this experience, I bought a pair of each such luxuries.  My hands and tush never really got the chance to thank me, because life got busy and I went for years without ever riding anything that resembled 40 miles.

Fast forward several years and the park and I did some growing up.  CVNRA became the much more distinguished Cuyahoga Valley National Park (CVNP), and I started riding some distance again with a TOOL KIT!  Though the ride was without incident, I am appalled that I cranked out that first 40 mile day years ago (before the age of cell phones) without a so much as pump or patch!

My brother also lives a stone's throw from a canal towpath bike trail.  I'm jealous.  I have ridden a handful of times in either direction while at his house.  I knew it went considerably further in both directions than my recreational rides took me, but I never really investigated how far.  I was also pretty sure "his" trail was the same towpath I rode years ago with a sore tush and no tools.  I knew there had been sections of trail developments over the years between his house and CVNP, but I never really looked into it enough to see if it was continuous.  I never really considered it an option for a distance ride... until recently.

After buying a bit more equipment to ride multiple days on the GAP, and buying even a bit more equipment to go back to the GAP for a multiple day ride with Zachary, I began to think about other options for overnight rides.  I really thought riding all of the National Park section (because it's a National Park!) and extending to my brother's house (because it is free lodging!) would be more than a day's ride, even if it was a continuous trail. But, after a quick scan of Google Maps, I found it was a doable daily distance and it was continuous (or, so I thought... actually, there was about a 1/2 mile section in Akron that was not continuous and followed roads over a butt-kicking hill both directions).  I pitched it to Zachary for a fall weekend ride and he was in!

The long range forecast was questionable, but schedules worked out for this past weekend.  As the weekend approached, the forecast improved considerably, so we packed up and rode Saturday and Sunday... about 48 miles each direction, from the scenic railroad station at Rockside Road (Lock 39) to my brother's "bed and breakfast".

Starting at the Rockside Station of the Cuyahoga Valley Scenic Railrod, CVNP

Lunch stop on the porch of the Boston store in CVNP

Diorama of canal boat building, Boston, Ohio

Cuyahoga River, CVNP

Beaver Marsh, CVNP

The ride was a very unique contrast of National Park scenery and urban/industrial areas of downtown Akron and the greater Akron area.  I was very impressed with the way Akron has developed the trail through the downtown area.  I confess, I love Akron and the Akron area and it still feels like home.  I enjoyed seeing a different view of the city from the saddle of my bike.  Zachary is drawn to urban areas, and he was very impressed that this existed so relatively close to home.  He loved that a day's ride could take him through the beauty of a National Park and the trendy of urban revitalization.  Several times he commented that we must do this ride again!

Akron, Ohio

Ohio & Erie Canal trail through downtown Akron

Although I enjoy camping on bike tours, my brother's house bed and breakfast (it's really just a guest bedroom, but he did give us breakfast) was a nice luxury for this trip.  Between seven and eight miles from their house, we met my brother and my nephew riding in our direction, and they finished the ride with us.  Saturday's weather was a bit warm for October, and we pushed a pretty brisk headwind most of the day.  After 48 miles of pushing wind, we were pretty tired guys, and a shower, dinner, and a soft bed were very appreciated.  My parents showed up at his house for the evening, and we had a cookout and sat around the fire pit until Zachary and I turned in a little earlier than we normally would.  We woke refreshed and set out for our car, 48 miles up trail.

Return ride on Sunday

Tuscarawas River

Summit Lake, Akron, Ohio

Green space in downtown Akron, along remnants of the Ohio and Erie Canal

Very cool mural in the background

Connecting urban revitalization with Cuyahoga Valley National Park

The temperatures were more October-like and the wind was either non-existent, or slightly to our backs, and we very much enjoyed Sunday's ride.  Passing a Pizza shop on the backside of noon, we skipped our trail mix and jerky lunch for pizza and wings. We found a nearby picnic table and enjoyed a leisurely break, then pedaled back through the National Park, arriving at the car about 15 minutes before a light rain began.

Beaver Marsh... again

Cuyahoga River, CVNP

I'm finding it's not easy spending mutually enjoyable quality time with with my teen and pre-teen children.  Just yesterday, my "on this day" facebook feed featured the very first backpacking trip I took with my boys just seven short years ago.  They were in awe of carrying camping gear on their backs and living in the woods for two nights.  They loved it!  Now... meh... not so much.  Well, Dylan, anyway.  Zachary entertained the idea, then asked if we could take a bike ride instead... hence this trip.  I look for areas to stay engaged with all my kids, but I seem to find the most common interests (at this moment in time, anyway) with Zachary.  I'll take it.  The fact that he said he wants to do this weekend ride again encourages me, and I am already planning a 2018 GAP tour with him, which he says he is up for!  Love ya, kid, and though I was a bit out of shape for 96 miles in two days, I loved hanging out with you... and I don't do half bad for an old guy!

panama ben

It was a beautiful Sunday and Ben wanted to go hiking after church.  We got ready, and just as we were ready to walk out the door, Ben decided he should wear a hat.  He disappeared and I expected him to show up with a ball cap.  But instead, he showed up wearing his "cowboy hat".

Said cowboy hat is actually a white Panama Jack-ish fedora-like hat that was purchased at Goodwill a few years back as a potential accessory for a scarecrow halloween costume.  Jen ended up finding Ben a better straw hat, so the Panama Jack hat was never used and was just forgotten somewhere in our house... until recently.  Ben discovered it a few weeks ago and decided it was a cowboy hat.  It is an adult size and too big for Ben, but he is currently quite fond of it.

At almost nine years old, I still love that Ben's disabilities provide some extended childish innocence.  If he likes something, he wears it, and he doesn't care if it's not trendy or how other people view it.  I sometimes worry that this innocence will cause him to be bullied or made fun of, but I love it, just the same.

So, off we went donning his cowboy hat... looking cuter than heck!  I love this kid...

a tomato named oscar

When I planted last summer's garden, I had a couple extra tomato plants. Lily asked if she could have one and if I had something in which to plant it. I found her an unused pot in the shed and helped her plant it. There were some marigold flowers in a styrofoam cup on the window sill that she had started from seed in Sunday School for a mother's day gift. Because they hadn't found a permanent home yet, she asked Jen if she could plant them, and we added them to her container.

We placed her container garden just off the side porch where it was easy to grab some tasty cherry tomatoes as they ripened. She tended her garden faithfully throughout the summer and enjoyed harvesting her very own tomatoes and seeing her flowers bloom.

Enter the 2017 garden season and, once again, a few tomato plants remained unplanted. I was busy and didn't think much about Lily's garden, but she spied the extra plants and asked, "where's my pot"?

I dug it back out of the shed and we potted one up together. Having no marigolds this year, she surveyed her pot and decided it would do, but she missed the flowers. Later that week, I popped into the nursery on my way home for a pack of marigolds. She was quite pleased that I bought her flowers and we added them to the pot.

After a few weeks, the little tomato really started to grow and she decided that since she had not yet convinced us to let her have a pet parakeet, a pet tomato would have to do!

And so, he became... Oscar!

With Lily's care, Oscar the tomato is thriving in his potted home among his marigold neighbors. I'm not sure, but I think Oscar may be on track to yield the first ripe cherry tomato of the season.  Great job Lily... and Oscar!  Here, boy... sit... stay... bloom... good tomato!

Oscar, the tomato

GAP 2017

At this phase of Zachary's life, we share a common interest in bicycles, as evidenced by the fact that my garage holds three bikes each.  While his interest is different than mine-- he enjoys the two rat rod bikes he has built for cheap and feels cool tooling around town on his flat black painted creations-- there is some overlap.  His third bike is a mountain bike (MTB) and we enjoy an occasional thrash through a forested trail together. When he saw the pictures from my October tour of the Great Allegheny Passage (GAP), he was intrigued and said he'd like to do that.  Seeing an opportunity to spend quality time with my son, I pushed to see if he was serious about committing to a multi-day ride if I could arrange my summer schedule and outfit his MTB with a rack and panniers.  He was excited about the possibility, so over the winter and spring we shopped equipment, adapted his bike, and planned an itinerary.  We planned to ride Monday through Friday, but Lily's appointment with the USCIS caused us to push it to a Wednesday to Sunday trip.  Fortunately, we could still make it work, though I prefer to have a day or two to rest before returning to work.

Day 1: (miles: 59 daily, 59 trip)  The itinerary I rode for my October ride worked well, so we copied the first three days exact.  We parked the car in Greenock, Pennsylvania, loaded minimal day gear, and rode 25 miles west to the Pittsburgh end of the GAP... mile 150 at Point State Park.

0 miles ridden, leaving Greenock, headed for Pittsburgh

Several new and old bridges criss-cross the river and the rails on this stretch of trail

This isn't my favorite part of the trail, but Zachary really enjoyed this portion.  This 25 miles takes the rider through industrial areas, riverside shopping/dining/residential areas, and downtown skylines.  About half way to Pittsburgh, the skies got very grey and let loose with some rain.  We took temporary shelter under a Costco fuel island roof, but when it seemed it was going to last a while, we pulled out the rain jackets and pressed onward.  It was a warm day, a moderate rain, and not too unpleasant to ride in.  Fortunately, it was only rain, devoid of lightning danger.  It rained less than an hour, then cleared.

We made good time to Pittsburgh and took some time to relax and munch some snacks at Point State Park, then headed back from whence we came... our car in Greenock.

Point State Park, the confluence of the Ohio, Allegheny, and Monongahela Rivers

Trains...

trains, all day... and all night!  But, they are why this trail exists.

Arriving back in Greenock, we loaded bikes on the car and drove east along the river to West Newton, Pennsylvania.  We went to Subway for dinner and parked the car in the overnight lot at the West Newton Station.  We loaded full gear on the bikes and, again, rode west, approximately nine miles almost back to Greenock.  This put us at about 59 miles for the day at the Dravo Cemetery Campground... a free primitive camp adjacent to the historic Dravo Cemetery. Both lean-to shelters were occupied when we arrived.  One guy offered to let us share the shelter with him, but I decided to just pitch our tent and keep to ourselves.  I did not sleep well this night.  I awoke in the middle of the night to a gnawing sound.  I went to investigate and discovered a pair of raccoons helping themselves to our food cache.  I shooed them away, rehung our bag near the tent, then slept very lightly, guarding our food. Fortunately, our losses were minimal, to the point that we still brought food back home with us.

Campsite at the Dravo Cemetery Campground

Dravo Cemetery

Day 2: (miles: 40 daily, 99 trip) To complete the small section that we missed the day before between Dravo and Greenock, we left Dravo riding west for about 2.5 miles. Arriving in Greenock, we turned back east and retraced those 2.5 miles, past Dravo, and back through West Newton (passing our parked car).  We stopped briefly at the station in West Newton and talked to a couple from Germany, who had taken 4 months away from their jobs to come to the US and ride their bikes from New York to San Francisco.  We continued east toward our next stop in Connellsville, Pennsylvania.

Leaving Dravo for Connellsville, by way of Greenock

This colorful arch welcomes eastbound riders to Connellsville

Volunteers maintain this free trailside camping area in Connellsville

We managed to get my favorite of the four shelters

We arrived in Connellsville to find the shelter I wanted still available.  We used the water supply to freshen up a bit and rinse out our ride clothes.  We set up camp and we were HUNGRY!  We ordered an eyes-bigger-than-our-belly pizza at the shop in the nearby plaza.  It was delicious, but we couldn't come close to eating it all. We shared leftovers with two teenage boys who were cycling the GAP with their Grandpa.  I'm not sure Grandpa realized how much fuel was needed for 2 teenagers, because they were very happy that we offered them extra carbs!

Watching the forecast on my phone, we questioned the next day's ride.  It looked likely that there would be precipitation most of the day, with thunderstorms (and that means lightning) mixed throughout.  We strongly considered cutting our five days to three and turning for the car in the morning.

The evening view from the shelter

Day 3: (miles: 46 daily, 145 trip) The night was dry in the shelter and I slept soundly, waking to find my food cache unharmed.  The weather forecast had improved very slightly while we slumbered, but there had been rain off and on during the night and the morning was grey with drizzle.  I mostly left the decision to Zachary whether to ride further east or retreat west.  He was leaning toward retreat, but I hated for him to miss out on the beautiful scenery that we would cover on this day's ride.  I suggested, since it was only about 25 miles back to the car, that we at least head east for five miles or so before we made up our mind.  He agreed.  Once we got to the five mile point (as I had hoped), he said we may as well just keep going.

The Pinkerton Tunnel is flanked by trestle on both ends to accommodate a large bend in the Casselman River

The trail in the background, crossing a mountain stream

Photo op at the milepost of my age

The weather turned out better than it was predicted.  It rained off and on, but not constant or hard. This day of riding was noticeably uphill all day.  Nothing that resembled steep or difficult, just noticeably up grade. The trail was a little messy, but I had the benefit of fenders... Zachary did not.  The heaviest rain of the day's riding happened when we were about three miles from our camp.  The skies opened up and drenched us with a cold rain.  We were staying in a pay campground this night, so I knew we would have a hot shower when we got there.  We skipped rain gear, lowered our heads, and cranked pedal!

We arrived, dripping and cold, at the Husky Haven Campground in Rockwood, Pennsylvania.  Only one other site was occupied, so we had our pick of the place.  We chose one of the few sites that had a pavilion and took shelter from the rain.  We set our tent up under the roof, then rode the quarter mile, or so, back to the road and crossed the bridge into town.  The campground office is in the basement of their guesthouse, directly across the river from the campground.  We warmed up and cleaned up in the nice warm showers.  We used the complimentary bike wash to rinse the trail grime off the bikes (crushed limestone and rain makes a mess of bikes).  We had the office to ourselves, so we spent the evening there, out of the rain.  We ordered a pizza from a shop just up the street, charged our phones, did a load of laundry, and shot some pool at "Barry's Pool Hall" (Barry and his wife own and operate the Husky Haven).

When we felt it was time to turn in, we hopped back on the bikes and made a run, between rain showers, for the campground back across the river.  We were thankful for our dry tent under roof.  It rained pretty hard through the night, but the raindrops on the tin roof above us was a great soundtrack for sleep... and it nearly drowned out the train horns that are pretty prevalent through the night at the Husky Haven.  I slept well.  

Barry's Pool Hall in the office of the Husky Haven Campground

Husky Haven Campground on a clear morning

Day 4:  (miles: 46 daily, 191 trip)  We awoke refreshed to sunshine and clear skies.  The Casselman River had risen significantly from the overnight rain, and was flowing fast and muddy past the campground.  Rockwood is as far east as this trip would take us, so today would just be a reverse ride of the previous day.  We packed up fairly leisurely, anticipating a relatively easy pedal back down grade to Connellsville. 

Leaving Husky Haven in Rockwood, headed back to Connellsville

There were a few messy spots on the trail from the previous nights rain, but the crushed limestone riding surface dried surprisingly fast.  There were a number of areas where the trail was partially eroded from water runoff and some limbs and trees had littered the trail overnight.  I was extremely impressed with the speed at which trail volunteers cleared the storm debris.  Several places we saw and smelled fresh sawdust where early morning cleanup had already occurred. The trail was clear all the way to Connellsville.

We stopped off and spent some time in Confluence.  We investigated the Outflow Campground and I will add this to my list of potential places to stay.  We did not stay in Confluence on this ride, but I did on my last ride and was not very fond of the campground I chose.  The Outflow is better.  While there, we bumped into the Grandpa and teenage grandsons that we shared the pizza with.  They had met some family there and were taking a few rest days at the campground.

Yesterday's rain had soaked my nearly 25 year old leather palm riding gloves and they were disintegrating.  When in Confluence on my last trip, I stopped in at a bike shop for some local information.  The owner was extremely helpful, though I purchased nothing from him.  With my gloves in sad shape, I knew just where to get another pair.  We rolled into town and visited Confluence Cyclery and I picked out a fancy pair with gel palm. I asked the owner to give my trusty old Trek leather palms a proper burial.  I reminded him that he helped me the last time through and he thanked me for remembering him on this trip.

A mural just outside Confluence, Pennsylvania

Last night's rain made for many beautiful waterfalls on today's ride

We made good time on the down grade back to Connellsville.  We were hoping to get my favorite shelter.  Alas, it was Saturday, and when we arrived, all four shelters were occupied.  At least one of them (and I suspected two of them) were occupied by locals who were just free camping on a Saturday night.  This is against the rules, but who is to stop them?  The shelters are intended for through travelers only (bikers, hikers, and paddlers) who pour money into the local economy during the recreation season.

We planned to pitch our tent in the grass, but struck up a conversation with a solo fella in one of the shelters.  He recognized us and it turns out he was the guy who offered to share a shelter with us the first night in Dravo.  He extended the same invitation and we accepted this time.

His name was Ron and I really enjoyed talking with him. He traveled very light.  He was riding a no-frills bike with water bottle cages duct taped to the frame. Water bottles were recycled soda bottles. He carried a department store tent that he acquired from someone who was throwing it away and a basic plastic tarp.  In a small duffel, he said he carried one change of clothes, one light jacket, and one blanket.  He had no sleeping pad, but used an emergency blanket (picture a heat reflecting aluminum foil blanket) if the ground got too cold.  The tent, tarp, and duffel were bungee corded to a rack (that had been repaired with duct tape) with a tool kit attached to the back of his saddle.  That was pretty much Ron.  He said most towns have a dollar store and he buys cheap food rather than carrying it and if he wears out a piece of clothing or needs something additional, he just finds a thrift store rather than carrying excess baggage.  Talking with him further, he shared that he was divorced and lives in Florida, but has family in Pittsburgh.  Each spring, he rides his bike from Florida to Pittsburgh for the summer.  When he gets bored, he hops on the trail for a while.  In the fall, he rides his bike back to Florida.  Honestly, I felt a little indulgent that night, as I rolled out my sleeping pad and my fluffy sleeping bag in my Eureka lightweight backpacking tent.  I also felt a little guilty because the first time I met Ron in Dravo, his scruffy appearance caused me to decline his offer to share a shelter.  Turns out, he was a good guy and I admire the simplicity of his life.  I sincerely hope I bump into him again on future GAP rides I may take.

We share a shelter with Ron from Florida

The abandoned trestle we view across the river from the campsite

Day 5:  (miles: 25 daily, 216 trip) Skies were clear on Sunday and we packed and headed out for the final 25 miles.  Although the shortest mileage day of the trip, it seemed a hard ride.  Partly, we were tired, but the return trip of a turn around is often difficult because it is a repeat of what you have already done.  Riding the first direction has anticipation of what is ahead.  The return trip is mostly just a rewind of where you've already been.  Still, it was a nice day for a ride.  We finished without incident, logging a total of 216 miles in 5 days of riding, and with no mechanical breakdowns.  We packed up bikes and gear and headed for home, stopping to load up on Taco Bell (as is often our adventure tradition).

As my kids rapidly grow up, I don't take opportunity to spend concentrated time with them lightly.  It helps that bikes are a bit of a hobby for him and it is a common interest for us, but I feel very blessed that Zachary chose to spend 5 days adventuring with me ... and asked for copies of photos so he could brag to his friends on Instagram about his 216 mile bike tour with his dad.  Even better... he asked if we could maybe do it again next summer!  He'll soon be an adult pursuing some life apart from me; so, yep... it's on my list to try to make happen for the summer of 2018!

He came.  He rode.  He proudly wears the t-shirt and wants to go ride it again