C&O Canal Towpath || Day 3 || 45.2 miles (+ 2.3-mile detour)
- Date: June 16, 2022
- Start: Horseshoe Bend Hiker-Biker Camp (C&O Mile 79.2)
- End: Hancock, MD (C&O Mile 124.4)
- Cumulative Distance: 124.4 miles
I kept waiting for the overnight rain to roll through as forecasted, but I never felt a single drop fall on my tent. Maybe Bridget and I were set up well enough under the canopy of trees along the Potomac River that nothing made it down to us. But more likely, the precipitation never materialized.
Then, at 6:30 a.m., the loudest woodpecker in the world decided it was time to wake us by hammering into the tall trees overhead.
As I glanced down at my (still moist) cycling clothes piled at the foot of my tent, I wasn’t eager to put them on for the third consecutive day. I wanted a shower and laundry more than anything. My cycling clothes reminded me of the wet, sticky feeling I could never get rid of on the Appalachian Trail, and this feeling had me desperately missing the aridness of the West Coast where everything dried out nearly instantly.
Bridget and I were planning to ride together once again this morning, so I sat around camp drinking coffee with her until a bit after 8 a.m. I didn’t bring a stove out here for this bikepacking trip. But Bridget did, and she was more willing to boil extra water and share her hazelnut coffee with me too. What a score!
Our next trail town was Williamsport, Maryland, and it was just 20 miles ahead where we’d camped overnight. So once we made it there, I planned to evaluate my options.
I really wanted to continue riding on to Hancock, Maryland, which would mean a 45-mile day in the saddle, but if heavy rain was still in this afternoon’s weather forecast, then that mileage might not be feasible. I’d just have to play it by ear.
Pavement & Detours
As we secured our gear to our bikes, the sun was shining above the canopy of trees stretching across the trail, and the air temperature was already in the upper 70’s with what felt like 1000% humidity – if that was even possible. I felt as it I could chew the air around me.
We mounted our bikes to depart the campground, and both Bridget and I were feeling the soreness of nearly 80 miles of riding. We complained to each other how our butts hurt terribly, and she even had a long length of KT tape pressed along the outside of one of her knees to alleviate the nagging pain.
As we set out to ride our initial mile of the day, hundreds of tiny little frogs, barely the size of a dime, jumped across and up the trail ahead of us. There was no earthly way to avoid them. They were just so tiny and plentiful. I’m sure we inadvertently crushed more than a few of them under our tires as we rolled down the trail trying to warm our muscles up at a moderately easy pace.
Before too terribly long, we came to a giant dam spanning the Potomac with an interesting white wooden building perched over the empty canal lock. Nearby signs informed us the building was a winch house from the old canal days, and we could still see grooves in the support walls where the ropes once gored into them.
A bit further up the trail, the towpath turned into a host of new surfaces, with spans of paved path that almost looked like a concrete boardwalk lining the Potomac, then alternating with a narrow dirt single track dirt trail.
Bridget rode ahead of me for this stretch of our route, as there didn’t see didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to the length or width of any of the spans. It might be 50 yards on concrete, then 30 yards on dirt, followed by 200 more yards on concrete, and another 50 yards on dirt.
All told, it was quite jarring to on our tender sit bones each time we changed surfaces, and I found myself beginning to resent the constant bouncing. At least I had something else to draw my attention as I tried to keep up with Bridget as she cycled with her even, brisk pace toward town.
On the opposite side of the river, we spotted boats, docks, and large vacation homes and lining the green banks. And up ahead I could see a tall crane near some small barge tugboat. Construction was happening near mile 88, and bright orange signs told us the towpath was closed and we needed to follow a detour ahead.
Neither of Bridget nor I expected the detour to be quite what we encountered. To get around the one mile of closed towpath, we’d have to hike our bikes up and insanely steep 1/4-mile slope covered in wet wood chips and bark. Then, once we got up to the paved roads at the top of the hill, we’d have to ride nearly three miles of rolling asphalt hills that made my legs scream in fatigue.
I hadn’t picked this trail for a hill workout. I’d picked it because it was supposed to be flattish and easy! What utter nonsense this detour was turning out to be too. Not only was it more difficult than I wanted, but it was adding miles and slowing our progress into town.
Saying Goodbye
Once we returned to the towpath again, Bridget and I passed some signs about the Confederate Army’s retreat from Gettysburg, which was delayed by torrential rain at Falling Waters. However, our main focus wasn’t on Civil War history. It was solely on maintaining a constant pace and counting the little brown milepost markers lining the trail.
Just after milepost 99, we emerged into a small park where we could detour into Williamsport. I’d hoped to head to the brewery for lunch, but the route to get there was more than 2.3 miles out of our way in each direction, and frankly, I just wasn’t in the mood add four or five miles for a brewery that didn’t even serve food. Our earlier detour through the rural hills of Maryland already added enough unnecessary paved miles for the day.
So Bridget and I headed for Main Street where we stocked up on cold drinks at Sheetz convenience store. As I looked around for somewhere to lock up my bike, I was dismayed to discover that not only was there no bike rack, but all the square metal posts lining the parking lot had just been freshly painted and had wet paint signs on them.
There was literally nowhere to secure our bikes without leaning them against the still-tacky paint. So much for this being a bike-friendly spot to stop!
After quenching our initial thirst from this morning’s ride with cold Gatorade purchased at Sheetz, Bridget and I wandered over to a small cafe for lunch, locked our bikes to some street posts, and indulged in food, free Wi-Fi, and lots of wonderful air conditioning.
Unfortunately, the two of us were now at a critical juncture. After lunch, we would need to say goodbye and go our own separate ways. Bridget wanted an easy mileage day, and would stay the night in Williamsport, while I was on a stricter timeline and needed to get myself at least another 20 miles farther up the trail. There was still a 40% chance of rain this afternoon, but I was going to try my best to push on to Hancock.
And so we bid each other good luck and promised to stay in touch with WhatsApp. At the very least, I could provide he with updates on the trail conditions and detours that might lie ahead, since I was bound to encounter them all before she did.
Here comes the RAIN
As I pedaled solo again for the first time in more than 60 miles, it felt a little bit harder to get back into the groove. It was somehow even hotter and muggier out than it had been this morning, and I no longer had the conversation of another person to distract me.
Only a mile up the trail from Williamsport, I stopped ever so briefly to take a photo of milepost 100 on the C&O towpath. It looked like just the rest of the mile markers, but it felt like a more monumental moment because of the round number.
I’ve never ridden 100 consecutive miles before, so I felt compelled to document the moment for some reason. The number even looked different to me. It was almost as if the zeros and the line underneath it were forming a smile and encouraging me to keep going in a subtle sort of way.
Barely an hour outside of Williamsport though, the rain started to fall. It was just a light sprinkle at first, and I hoped it would be no worse than the mild rain I’d experienced when riding out of Washington, D.C. on the first day of my journey. But that wasn’t to be the case.
The rain picked up to a steady rate, then transitioned to a heavy downpour soaking me completely. The thick, humid air steamed up my sunglasses so badly I couldn’t see the trail. So I ended up swapping my sunglasses for a brimmed hat to keep the rain of my face, and pedaled slowly so as to avoid slipping in the mud and puddles created by the storm.
Although the torrents of rain only lasted about 45 minutes, I was completely drenched from the elements. My shirt clung to my torso uncomfortably, while my legs were completely caked in mud. I was a utter and complete mess and so was my bike!
Just a bit after 2 p.m., I came to another long dam stretching across the Potomac similar to the one I ridden past this morning. Another white canal house was perched up on a hill above a stone retaining wall, and then I crossed paths with a guy on a recumbent bike wearing a “stop gun violence” hat.
I’m sure that had got him plenty of double takes while he was in town. This part of western Maryland is filled with rednecks who really like their guns, and I’m sure his message was probably seen as provocative and unpopular by the locals. Yet with the daily headlines about mass shootings in the U.S., can you blame him for his silent outrage?
The majority of the remainder of my afternoon was spent dodging mud puddles and trying to stay upright. There was some wildlife here and there, including a turtle who was just chilling out on the trail, two more snakes, and the bevy of squirrels who wanted to dart in front of my bike at the very last instant.
As I continued down the towpath, blue blazes began to appear on some of the trees and I wondered what trail had joined up with the towpath. My curiosity was resolved in due time as I spotted some signs for the Tuscarora Trail.
I actually knew this 250-mile hiking trail, and had done some trail maintenance on it with the Potomac Appalachian Trail Club (PATC) back when I lived in northern Virginia. Yet, I had no idea the C&O would cross paths with it 100+ miles north of Washington, D.C.
The sun emerged once again as I neared Hancock, and I stopped about eight miles outside of town to see about making a reservation for the night. I hadn’t wanted to plan my stop while back in Williamsport – just in case I wasn’t able to cycle all the way to town in the rain today.
But now I was sure I could get there, so I briefly stopped at the Licking Creek hiker-biker camp to myself make a reservation at the Super 8 motel.
As the slow cell service confirmed my reservation details, mosquitoes swarmed me like I was coated in their favorite scent. I’d reapplied my picaradin twice today, but it must have sweated it all off in the humid air. That’s the thing about these mid-Atlantic rainstorms. They don’t cool you down at all. They just make you stickier, and help wash your sunscreen or bug repellent off.
Hancock, MD
About an hour later, I was rolling into Hancock, where the paved Western Maryland Rail Trail also ran through town. Honkytonk music from BuddyLou’s restaurant, which was perfectly adjacent to the trail, permeated the air. But I wasn’t anywhere close to being ready to eat yet. I needed to wash the mud off myself (and my bike) and get on some clean, dry clothes first.
On my way to the hotel, I made a quick pit stop at another Sheetz and was sorely disappointed to learn they didn’t carry any beer or hard cider there. Stupid blue sky laws. Forty-seven states (and Washington, D.C.) allow you to buy beer in grocery stores or convenience stores, but Maryland is a bizarre outlier, where alcohol purchase rules vary depending on which county you are in.
Luckily, I spotted Pittman’s Liquors directly across the street from Sheetz and I quickly hopped on over to purchase cold, refreshing tall 16-ounce can of Angry Orchard hard cider. I definitely needed a drink at the end of this marathon day.
Over the past eight hours, I’d had to hike my bike up a steep detour in the woods, ride several extra miles in the rolling hills, say goodbye to my cycling companion, get pummeled by an afternoon rainstorm, and I was now covered in mud and dozens of mosquito bites. It was a truly physically and mentally tiring day.
After nearly 50 miles in the saddle, I was 100% ready for a shower, a cold drink, and soft bed.
Highlights
- I’m glad I pushed myself to ride a bigger day today. Getting to a motel in town where I had a shower and access to laundry machines was a huge boost to my morale.
- The wildlife on the trail was more diverse today – woodpeckers, tiny frogs, turtles, and more!
- I really enjoyed passing mile 100 after lunch today. Seeing that minor milestone mark my progress really filled my chest with pride. I’m 1/3 of the way to my goal already!
Challenges
- I was sad to have to say goodbye to Bridget in Williamsport. I hadn’t come out here to ride the C&O with a partner, but I definitely enjoyed her companionship!
- The downpour only lasted an hour this afternoon, but the rain seriously slowed me down by making the towpath muddy and slick. Hopefully the excess water evaporates by tomorrow morning.