C&O Canal Towpath || Day 5 || 35.2 miles
- Date: June 18, 2022
- Start: Potomac Forks hiker-biker camp (C&O Mile 164.8)
- End: Frostburg, MD (GAP Mile 15.5)
- Cumulative Distance: 200 miles
I spent a good bit of yesterday focused on the beastly hot and humid the weather here in Maryland was, but that dynamic was all about to change today. The strong headwind I’d battled during the last few miles of the day was pushing in a major cold front.
I had been tempted to sleep in just my mesh tent all night, but as the sun disappeared, I made the last minute decision that it might be a good idea to toss my rainfly on my tent – just to be safe. It wasn’t going to rain, but according to the weather forecast, the temperature was supposed to dip signficantly overnight.
When I woke up this morning to the chilly morning, I pulled my quilt tight around me and was grateful for my prior planning with my rainfly. As I checked the temperature, I discovered it was barely 55 degrees now, and the high temperature was predicted to only to get up to 65 degrees today! What a radical change from the past few days of the sweltering 90+ degree heat!!
SCHOOL TIME
Yesterday was the first time I’ve camped completely alone on this trail. My first two night I’d camped with Bridget, and last night was inside a hotel room. Once I was all by myself outdoors, I found myself focusing on the noisy surroundings. The frogs loudly croaked well into the night, and several loud trains rolled by on the opposite side of the river.
Moreover, the layout of the Potomac Forks campground was the oddest of all the free hiker-biker camps I’ve seen on the C&O Towpath thus far. The tent area was a narrow strip of grass on a hill above the Canal Lock 68, and I had to cross two bridges over the canal just to get back over to the small lockhouse (where the trail and port-a-potty were located).
Yet this campground did have one major thing going for it. It was only two miles short of the tiny riverfront town of Oldtown, Maryland – which according to my Google maps had something call the “Schoolhouse Kitchen” opening for breakfast at 8 a.m.
And you know what that meant… hot coffee!
I quickly packed up camp and rode into town, past the lively baseball fields where a noisy Little League game was ongoing. My breakfast stop was actually located inside the Oldtown Consolidated School (i.e. a rural county K-12 school), where the school’s former cafeteria had been converted into a small diner-style restaurant.
As I walked into the Schoolhouse Kitchen, I spied 10-12 local folks populating the round dining tables early this Saturday morning. Their median age trended somewhere north of 75 years old and their conversation seemed to revolve about which body part hurt the most that day. Yet, the coffee was steaming hot and the pancakes were excellent, so you’ll hear zero complaints out of me about the ambiance.
Nearing the end
With a full belly, it was time to return to my bike to ride the remaining 18 miles of the C&O Towpath. The wind was now whipping nearly 20 mph, which might have felt nice on any other morning, but it felt super chilly to me after so many hot, humid days.
I internally debated whether to layer on some more clothing just to stay warm. But I figured the effort of cycling would warm me up. And so I hit the road, riding past the Little League game once again and across the metal bridge leading back to the C&O Towpath.
As I pedaled my way down the trail, it soon became apparent to me that it was the weekend. Lots of other cyclists, hikers, and dog walkers were out using the path today, and I had to actively work to avoid collisions with several folks who seemed completely oblivious to my presence when we crossed paths.
At mile 175.7, I passed the white two-story Lockhouse at Lock 75 with it’s green boarded up windows, and I couldn’t help stopping to take a few pictures of its well-preserved stone canal lock. This was the final lock on the C&O Towpath even though I still had nearly nine more miles to ride until the path’s northern terminus in Cumberland, Maryland.
The brown mile markers ticked upward toward the end of the C&O and I passed farm fields and more and more homes, but I never seemed to lose the constant chill that the wind provided.
About 1.5 miles before town, the surface of the C&O transitioned from the dirt trail I’d been riding on since Hancock and onto a gray crushed limestone path once again. All the signs were there. I was close to the end. So very close.
Up ahead, I could see the light blue metal bridge crossing the river and the steeple of the churches growing larger. That was Cumberland, MD. The end of the line. This was where my 185-mile adventure on the C&O towpath would end and I’d pick up the 150-mile Great Allegheny Passage.
Cumberland
I’d been to Cumberland, Maryland once before. It was scarcely over a year ago. We’d just sold the RV we’d been living in for the past three years and were taking one final roadtrip out to New Jersey to visit Keith’s parent’s for Easter.
During the drive east, I convinced Keith we should stop to visit the state high points for Maryland, Pennsylvania, and West Virginia – all of which were located not too far from Cumberland. We’d stayed in town overnight and I’d even gone out for a morning run on the C&O Towpath.
So now, as I approached the town on my bike, I felt a little nostalgic. Five days ago, I had no clue whether I’d be able to successfully bikepack a trail from Washington D.C. to Cumberland, Maryland. Yet here I was — at the end of the first trail and ready to start another one.
There’s a part of me that will miss riding past the all canal locks and counting those wooden mile markers lining the dirt towpath. I’ve never experienced anything similar on the hiking trails I frequent. Measuring my tangible progress each day, mile by mile, was oddly satisfying. And, even with my leisurely pace and low mileage days, the distance seemed to go by so fast.
When I began this journey, I planned to arrive in Cumberland at the end of day 5. But it wasn’t even lunchtime yet. I was way ahead of schedule.
I wanted to celebrate successfully finishing the C&O Towpath by heading to one of the local breweries in Cumberland, but it was still far too early for that. The brewery didn’t even open until 1 p.m. So I parked my bike near the local bike shop, and I decided to walk around and explore a bit more of the town to kill time.
As I walked from the waterfront over to a pedestrian mall a few blocks over, I passed a large fountain with a bronze statue of a boy and a mule commemorating the history of the C&O Towpath.
Then I turned up a narrow street – which was blocked by police cars stopping traffic for a small parade celebrating Juneteenth. A parade float carrying the cartoonishly large version of Harriet Tubman led the way, followed by a drum team, dance troupe, and nearly 50 others marching behind them. I’d forgotten tomorrow was the Juneteenth holiday, and I might have missed it entirely if I hadn’t been in town just then.
I whiled away my time in Cumberland, stopping in a coffeehouse for a latte and letting my phone recharge as I rested my sore and chafed butt. Once the clock struck 1 p.m. though, I was on my way over to Dig Deep Brewing Co. where I planned to celebrate in style with a flight of 4 oz. beers and a local cider.
Reluctance
Around 2 p.m., I knew it was time to get back on the my bike and head north. Rather than take the afternoon off in Cumberland, I planned to ride the first 15.5 miles of the Great Allegheny Passage (GAP) up to Frostburg, Maryland, where I had a reservation for a room at a lovely, bicycle-friendly bed & breakfast waiting for me in town.
Yet, despite this plan, I was reluctant to get going again.
First off, my butt was really, really sore! I have no idea what I’m doing wrong on the bike, but my butt just feels so bruised and chafed whenever it rests against the sides of the saddle. I was wincing in pain as soon as I mounted back up.
Secondly, the ominous words of the guy I met back at White’s Ferry were ringing in my head and playing mind games this afternoon. That cyclist told me he’d much rather ride the GAP southbound because the climb to the Eastern Continental Divide was much more gradual in that direction.
The Eastern Continental Divide is the GAPs highest point at 2,392′ above sea level. Any rain falling on the western side of the divide would join the rivers draining toward the Gulf of Mexico; whereas, rain falling on the eastern side would drain out to the Atlantic Ocean.
By riding the GAP south, that cyclist had 125 miles to gradually build from Pittsburgh’s elevation (1,223′) the trail’s highest point. Thus, the trail felt virtually flat to him. Meanwhile, I’d have to ride up to the Divide from an even lower elevation in Cumberland (at 627′ above sea level) and climb up to the trail’s highest point in just 25 miles.
So, it would be a roughly 2% grade uphill for the rest of the afternoon. That might not sound like a giant ascent – and truthfully it’s not. But it was just a long sustained climb, with no breaks or flat spots to give my legs a rest from the constant tension.
And to add insult to injury, I’d have to do it with a 25-30 mph headwind that seemed as if it was trying to blow me backwards during the gradual ascent this afternoon.
Great Allegheny Passage
As I began cycling out of Cumberland, I hoped the grade would be imperceptible and I’d just cruise through the next 15.5 miles into Frostburg. But, that wasn’t to be the case. I felt physically weak as I cycled my heavy bike on the crushed limestone path. And my butt hurt so much that I was on the verge of tears.
There were a handful of highlights to distract me here and there though, and I took my time exploring my surroundings to take my mind off the physical soreness.
The first of the attractions was a bone cave about four miles outside of town. Railway workers originally discovered the fossil-filled cavern in 1912 while excavating for a cut near Wills Mountain. Inside, the cave contained skeletons of a bear, an extinct saber-tooth cat, and 39 other types of mammals. Some of these skeletons are even on display in the Ice Age Mammal Exhibit at the National Museum of Natural History in Washington, D.C.!
A little further up, I encountered the Brush Tunnel, a 914-foot long railroad tunnel which opened in 1911. Signs outside the tunnel warned riders not to enter when a train was approaching. This seemed like an odd warning, but I’d understand it soon enough. The tunnel was used by both the GAP and the Western Maryland Scenic Railroad, which offers excursion train rides to tourists between Cumberland and Frostburg.
As luck would have it, I wasn’t too far past the tunnel when one of these trains came chugging by me. It was being pulled by a diesel locomotive, but at the end of the passenger cars, it was being pushed by a steam locomotive. Black, sooty smoke poured out the train engine’s chimney, and you definitely wouldn’t want to be inside the tunnel or breathing when that engine came through!
A bit further up the GAP, I passed a number of people pedaling unusual 2- and 4-person carts right down the railroad tracks toward me.
I’d never seen anything like these carts before, but I later learned they’re called “rail bikes,” and tourists could rent them in Frostburg and ride 10 miles downhill on the railroad tracks before catching a shuttle back to their starting point.
Further afield, I spotted the small town of Mount Savage nestled into the hills and trees to my right. I probably wouldn’t have paid too much attention to the smattering of homes, but one of the buildings stuck out like a sore thumb from all the rest.
It appeared as if a square castle turret was just dropped right on the top of the house’s roofline, which seemed like an awfully strange architectural style to build in the Maryland countryside. But to each his own, right?
Frostburg
By late afternoon, I finally made it to the turn off into Frostburg and was really looking forward to giving my legs a rest. The last 15.5 miles of the GAP were harder that I would have hoped for, despite the smooth surface of crushed rock.
Yet the challenge wasn’t over. Ahead of me, I could see a series of switchbacks taking me from the trail up to the paved road above, and my morale just deflated. I was both mentally and physically done. There was no way I was going to ride that trail uphill on my bike. My legs were toast.
So I dismounted my bike, with no shame whatsoever, and I pushed my bike up the switchbacks just like during my hike-a-bike up the Paw Paw Tunnel bypass yesterday afternoon. This time, however, rather than navigating a forested trail, I had metal art sculptures with bicycle themes to amuse me as I slowly pushed my heavy bike up the soft sandy path.
As I crested the top of the grassy knoll, I spotted a red train depot, and soon I learned the climbing wasn’t over. Now I had to endure a steep, paved road that rose above me even higher. In that moment, I swear I felt as if I was climbing the steep streets of San Francisco.
Would this challenge never end??
Once I made into town though, I was finally able to mount my bike again and ride the short distance to my B&B for the night. My host, Jason, was just coming back from some errands as I arrived, and he quickly showed me around my temporary quarters before handing me the key to my room.
The historical home that housed the B&B was constructed in 1865 and it was absolutely gorgeous on the inside. I couldn’t wait to settle in and rest my weary body. I’ll admit, I definitely felt like I earned a good night’s sleep in the soft, comfy bed tonight. My first night on the GAP would not be roughing it in a tent.
Highlights
- Making it to the end of the 185-mile C&O Canal Towpath was awesome! I still don’t consider myself a true cyclist or bikepacker, but I definitely felt that sense of accomplishment today!
- Wandering around Cumberland, watching the Juneteenth parade, and enjoying a flight of beer was just about the perfect was to celebrate where the two trails converge.
- Spending the night at the Allegheny Trail House was a bit of a splurge for me, but it was 100% worth it. The bike-friendly B&B was just wonderful.
Challenges
- The cooler weather was definitely appreciated today after so many hot days, but I could have done without the persistent 20-30 mph headwind, for sure.
- Riding the first 15 miles of the GAP helped me realize how spoiled I’d been by the relatively flat C&O Towpath these last few days. It might only be a 2% grade, but it felt relentless.
- Seeing the steep incline into Frostburg nearly broke my heart. My legs were already so tired that I just had to walk my bike that final ascent to town.