The beauty of this trip is that I am neither an athlete nor a bicycler. I am just an ordinary guy, blessed to not have any serious infirmities, who got himself into decent shape, and have been able to bicycle most of the way across the country.
The credit for the success starts with my firm faith in God. He had me put a plan together, with daily objectives, then He granted me the perseverance to get it done. Of course, it is not done yet, but my final destination, Raleigh, North Carolina, is not far off. In two weeks I should pulling up to the house of my brother, Jim, in Raleigh.
There have been a number of times during this trip when, upon waking up, I have not wanted to face what the day had to offer. There have been nights when I have woke up, and had difficulty getting back to sleep as I pondered difficult riding ahead.
So it was this morning. I have talked with number of people about the C&O trail, and they almost universally felt it was a difficult, tedious grind. The reason is because the towpath is dirt which becomes mud when it rains, and especially muddy when it rains hard like it did two days ago. It is similar to old country roads with two worn tracks with grass in the middle. It is full of all sorts of unpleasant surprises, from tree roots to rocks, mud puddles to ruts. I was told that it was constant vigilance, far exceeding what is normal. Needless to say, I was not excited about today, and especiaļy when I heard the rolling thunder around 4 AM.
Duty calls, however, so I was able to have devotions and packing, a good breakfast and was off to the trailhead by 7:30 AM.
The majority of people I chatted with, advised not to exceed 40 miles per day, so that is my approach. The trail was very good heading out of Cumberland. Since I was the first east bound rider of the day, there were still lots of deer on the trail (I counted 16 for the day). There were, indeed lots of puddles and stuff, but not nearly as bad as I imagined. There was no rain all day. Vigilance was important, but there were still long periods of time when the trail was pretty good.
I was making good time until I pulled up to a large tree that had fallen across the trail. As I attempted to ease the bike over the trunk, I discovered that one of my pannier's rain covers had fallen off. I had to have it, and knew where I last saw it, so I turned back to find it. It was 3.4 miles back, the stick that had pulled it off the panniers was still attached. Putting it back on, I headed back to the downed tree.
Before long I was at the town of Little Orleans. Calling it a town may be a bit of embellishment, since it was only one building that served food, alcohol and a few sundries. I got there two hours before the posted closing time, and they were already closing it up. They stayed to fix me a sandwich, then locked the doors.
My accommodations for the evening, were 1/2 mile away, and the place defies description. I was the only guest that night. All the other possible guests had better judgment, I reckon. I suppose it could have been worse.
Around 8:30PM, I started doing homiletics of some scripture in the book of John, but could not stay awake. At 9 PM, I turned off the light and drifted off to sleep.
Blessings.
