The night we finished the GAP Trail we slept well and and in the morning were looking forward to attacking the C&O Canal towpath. Built in the early 1800s and used for nearly a century, the C&O was the lifeline of communities from Cumberland to Washington D.C. transporting farm and finished goods as well as coal between the communities.
Today, we didn’t need to transport anything but ourselfs down the first 43.5 miles of the 184.5 mile canal.
As Ted and I stood with our bikes at the terminus, he pointed out to me the Cumberland Gap, which was the gateway to the West in the 1700s. Like many of the towns in Pennsylvania that we had travelled through, Cumberland was trying to transform itself into a more friendly tourist destination. Its past could be seen in the canal and a small remaining building of the Footers dye factory, which like its steely northern counterparts, was no more.
It is cloudy with a bit or wind and chill in the air. Time to go.
The canal, or its remains, is on our left. In this section it is a far cry from its glory days when barges would ply up and down its length. This section we are traversing is more like a long marsh or swamp with grasses, reeds and cat tails filling its girth instead of water. The path we are on today is a bit muddy from the rain of yesterday but nothing we don’t believe we can handle. The towpath is about 6 feet wide with a grassy medium and two dirt/gravel ruts on either side.
As we make our way down, the canal is broken into sections with mounds of dirt bisecting them with little dams. Some are wide with clear water, others thick with algae on top, others totally dry. What is not dry for us is the towpath, which has become increasingly muddy.
After a quarter of an hour, our legs are splattered with mud and we need to be mindful of how we steer as it will be easy to wipe out and fall. Puddles that appear to be small and shallow are deep and mucky as we learn the hard way. So rather than travel in a nice straight line, we weave left and right attempting to find a dry spot our bikes can roll on. Care is the watchword and both of us feel at times the backs of or bikes skidding out as their load (us and our luggage) make them potentially unstable.
We reach the first aqueduct and Evitts Creek. These were built as part of the canal to take it over existing streams or other obstructions that would not let the canal flow unimpeded. We went over it just fine.
This river trail differs from the one we were on before as it is very close to the canal (and Potomac) with all the attendant vegetation while our prior rides were often high and dry above the different rivers the old rail bed followed. I keep mentioning dry because we are not and this portion of the trail has become very treacherous. The trail is very muddy and we need to slow our pace else wise we will fall.
Being on a thin strip of land between two bodies of water, we see lots of turtles, some huge, sitting on fallen tree limbs sunning themselves for the day, as well as deer and the occasional rabbit and snake. We muddle on through.
The towpath is much more narrow than the GAP trail and many vined trees line each side. It makes the ride more difficult as many are clothed in poison ivy so not only do we need to avoid the increasingly quagmire-like portions of the trail but need to do so without brushing against any of these vines.
We spot a small family of three making their way toward us. The child is in a towable child carrier and the wind screen is covered in mud, leaving its occupant in a fairly dark state. Soon after this spotting, we see the first horse droppings on the trail which makes me think about what the towpath must have been like in its heyday with beasts of burden making their way up and down the trail. Lots of mud. Lots of droppings.
We reach the first functioning lock and are reminded of the ingenuity of its builders. The lower portion of the lock is composed of two doors each of which has a long lever that can be used to close or open the doors. When closed the water fills the section up to the level of the upper and boats can move forward. Then boats looking to move down stream can wait in the lock for water to be released and then continue on their path. Very cool.
We have been 12 miles and two hours into our ride and we decide to take a break and me a tumble. As Ted pointed out as he had a view into my fall, I was taking a corner way to fast with too much load. My back wheel spun out and I did a summersault over the bike hitting my shoulder and scratching up the inside of my left calf. A tree stopped me from rolling further down a hill.
We were lucky. The only thing that got hurt or damaged was my pride and the idea that I would never fall.
After our rest and my dusting, our luck has changed and the mud appears to be gone mostly and we are able to keep a good pace. The landscape around us is fairly consistent though we soon come across a wall of shale or slate whose many layered craggy sides have had pieces broken off that have collected in piles at the base. These shards would make good knifes or spearheads as they appear sharp and straight.
Some sections of the canal have been well cared for and are part of a park. Ted, with his photographic eye, gets us to stop so he can take a few pictures. Though animals have been in short supply, they have been more than compensated for by butterflies. I have seen a few monarchs today, who will be happy that there is lots of milkweed growing on the rail, and many other butterflies that I cannot identify. At one rest stop, so many are flittering over the trail and us that I feel as if we are in a butterfly farm and after a quick thought I realize that we are.
Around lock 68, the canal opens up and the water is clear. Some sections are filled with arrowheads and others are open and clear with a line of fisherman trying their luck. Then a few miles later, the canal becomes a mud pit filled with debris.
One of the places we were looking to go through was the Paw Paw tunnel. At 3,118 feet long it is the longest tunnel on the combined trails. Unlike the other tunnels, however, it was made for barges and we were hoping to walk along its side. Unfortunately, we were told the day before our trip that the park service was closing the tunnel early and it would be unavailable. And sure enough as we drove past the tunnel closed sign, there was a big 8-foot high chain link fence with barbed wire blocking the entrance.
We could have hiked over the tunnel on a new trail built by the park service. But we both decided that it was better to take a shuttle around the tunnel rather than risk taking our bikes though a lot of potential mud.
It was the right decision.
After 40 minutes of bouncing over park access roads, forging streams, climbing big hills and giving our kidneys a workout, we were deposited 6 miles from the tunnel’s exit at Bonds Landing in the Green Ridge State forest. It was really an over the river and through the woods trip but we were happy we made it. Time for lunch.
After lunch, we make our final push to Little Orleans, where we will spend the evening. The trail is quiet with the flow of the Potomac and our wheels on gravel being the only sounds. While we believe that there are railroad tracks nearby and we have seen a few bridges cross over the towpath, there have been few trains using them, unlike the ones near the GAP. The result has been a quiet and a feeling of remoteness that I did not have on the GAP.
As we approach Little Orleans, I am having an out-of-season experience as maple and dogwood leaves fall from the trees in a chilly air. Half of the trail is covered with these droppings confusing me. At our last rest stop of the day, we find a working well that can supply water for hikers and bikers. The Potomac has drawn close and across the river we can see West Virginia. This would be a pretty spot to linger but we are both ready to get to our hotel.
We approach the 15 mile creek aqueduct and are looking forward to one thing: beer. We have been told that Billy’s is a great place to stop and get a bite and a brew. We can’t wait. But as we draw close there are no cars and the place looks deserted. We walk up to the door and see the sign. Closed Tuesdays.
