The Plan

Nothing spurs a big summer cycling dream like a bleak Pittsburgh winter during a pandemic. All it requires to be put into motion is one email to clubmates, and then the dream of bike touring over long, warm, sunny days begins to take shape. In the summer of 2020, Durwood had completed his first self-supported bike tour. He rode from Pittsburgh to his parents’ home in eastern North Carolina, pedaling 640 miles and climbing over countless Appalachian mountain passes in nine days. The allure of seeing the country at a leisurely pace and the satisfaction of getting there under his own power made him ready for the next adventure.

The following winter, he came up with the idea to ride from the Canadian border to Pittsburgh by way of Burlington, Vermont, and New York state’s Adirondack mountains and Erie Canalway Trail. He’d never ridden through the region and thought it would be a great challenge. Tony’s attention perked up when he saw Durwood’s email and proposed route. He couldn’t pass up the opportunity to revisit his old stomping grounds of upstate New York where he grew up and still has friends and family. He had been working non-stop since the beginning of the pandemic and knew that he needed a respite. A change of scenery and new cycling goal were the ideal solution. He told Durwood, “Sign me up!” The two riders conferred on the best time to tackle the 800-mile route and committed to the dates of June 5-16, 2021.

When it was all said and done, they both finished the route they set out to ride and exceeded their goals. There was a profound clarity that their age (both in their 60s) was not a limitation. The ride only made them more confident of their strength and what they can still accomplish. They also hope that their endeavor inspires others to put together a dream during those winter months when we all need a reason to imagine what’s beyond the snow and ice outside our window.

The Route

You can’t get from there to here without an idea of where you’re going. Durwood planned all 826.5 miles and 25,245 feet of climbing on Ride With GPS. The daily itinerary was designed to keep the mileage reasonable and to finish at a hotel or campground each night. Their longest day was 90 miles along the Erie Canalway Trail, but the days climbing through the Adirondack mountains were far more strenuous even with fewer miles. Otherwise they averaged around 70 miles/day.

For the most part, the route, mileage, climbing, and surface types matched with Durwood’s plan. However, as with any route mapping tool, there were a few surprises in remote areas that were not updated in the mapping database. One route segment led them through a private Boy Scout camp that, not unexpectedly, did not welcome a few strange men. Once being escorted off the campground, they were able to readjust their route without much difficulty.

Durwood encountered some technical difficulties with his Garmin that proved to be an important navigation lesson. As they left Burlington, the device said they were off-track and the turn-by-turn directions would not work. He called Garmin support and discovered that the GPS could not function with the entire 826-mile route uploaded as one file. The route needed to be broken into one GPX file per day and then uploaded onto the Garmin as separate files. Once he did that, the Garmin worked seamlessly. A frustrating lesson, but good for everyone to know.

The Gear

Experience and a bit of overpreparedness determined what gear Tony and Durwood would bring. Most of the items were already well-established pieces in their cycling stable, while a few others were tested out on the trip with good feedback (see below for a rundown).

When debarking on this self-supported trip, it was essential for Tony and Durwood to have their gear dialed. No squeaks, no rubs, no wobbles. They tested new equipment and tweaked their existing setup on local rides in the months before leaving, but even then, busy schedules and pandemic supply chain issues interfered. Tony was able to make five or six test rides once his delayed gear arrived. However, a few weeks from departure he realized that when the new panniers and other bags were loaded with everything, they did not balance well and made his bike shimmy when descending over 20mph. There was no option to switch bikes or touring bags. The only solution was to keep the top tube steady by squeezing it with his knees as he was flying downhill at speed. Unnerving, but it worked. Durwood was using the tried-and-true gear and bike from his previous trip. He rode a few solo shakedown centuries down and back on the GAP to test his bike and camping setup. The riders and gear were as ready as would ever be.

Fender Philosophy

The riders would be gone for almost two weeks and early summer weather in the Northeast is anything but predictable. In Durwood’s opinion, it’s best to anticipate all kinds of weather and road conditions. They both have become avid fender converts over the years and installed full fenders for a few reasons:

• The fenders minimize the spray from standing water on the road and help keep your feet far drier than without.

• The riders couldn’t expect access to a hose to wash down their bikes if needed, so the fenders were added insurance to keep their bags and gear as free of mud and grime as possible. (Something the 2007 Pittsburgh to DC group could have used.)

• The added comfort from reduced amounts of soaking and road grime changed their rainy ride attitude from being dreadful to delightful. They have a whole new appreciation of riding in the rain and are no longer intimidated by the elements.

While fenders won’t magically keep you dry in a downpour, when you’ve invested so much in bikes, gear, and trip planning, having a simple set of fenders will lessen the misery and keep your gear in good condition. To further anticipate foul weather, they also tossed in rain jackets with hoods that fit over their helmets, rain pants, shoe covers, and saddle covers.

The Final Set Ups

Once they reached their starting point in Burlington, the bikes and riders were ready as they could be, but suspicious thoughts of imposter syndrome still crept in:

The Mobile Repair Unit

Let’s get it over with: Tony carried a full-size chainwhip. Chalk that up in the Overprepared column.

However, as they were preparing for the trip, there was concern about the remote sections they’d be riding through. In the mountains of upstate New York, there would be unreliable cellphone service, few towns, fewer bikes shops, and only occasional drivers on the road. If they encountered a difficult mechanical, they could wait for hours or the next day until finding a ride to a town with a bike shop. They both agreed it would be better to be overprepared with too many tools than to be caught in a situation that might derail their trip.

Breaking a spoke on a loaded bike is a constant thought in the back of any bike tourist’s mind. Durwood had experience riding loaded with his double-butted, 32-spoke aluminum wheels and was confident that if he broke a spoke he would still be able to ride. Tony’s Astral carbon fiber wheels are solid, strong, and designed to hold true even if a spoke were to break. They both brought extra spokes, and threw in the chain whip in case they needed to replace a spoke on the rear wheel’s driveside in the middle of no where.

Did they end up needing the chainwhip? No.

Are the odds very high that they would have? Not really.

Would they bring it next time? No.

On reflection, Tony says that you have to logically consider what the probability is of having that mechanical in just that remote section where you would have no other source of assistance. In their case, they had two days riding off the grid and fortunately throughout the trip the chainwhip never came out.

Days 1-4: The Adirondacks

Getting to the start in Burlington, Vermont, involved packing a rental van with all their gear and then taking two days to drive. Durwood’s original trip idea was to say he’d ridden from Canada to Pittsburgh, but border crossing COVID-19 restrictions squelched that idea. The next best scenario was to ride within sight of the border and call it good.

Heading north from Burlington was pleasant and flat, with a causeway trail and short ferry ride. Spirits were high, but by the time the riders reached the U.S. border in Rouses Point, they realized the trip was about to get real as they had entered “no man’s land.” The only hotel accommodation in the area was sketchy, the kind of place with mold on the floor and you didn’t want to touch anything. “A hunting shack would have been a step up,” observed Durwood.

The second day proved to be their hardest (lesson: ease into the first few days, don’t do this out of the gate), with over 80 miles and 4500 feet of climbing into the Adirondacks. It was hot. There was a headwind. They ran out of water. Their destination of Lake Placid was always in sight, but it never got any closer.

To hear Tony recount their last miles into Lake Placid elicits chuckles now, but at the time had him questioning what he’d gotten himself into:

Black Fly Season

Tony is intimately familiar with the region’s notoriously aggressive black flies. The locals consider the weeks between Mother’s Day (mid-May) to Father’s Day (mid-June) to be the most active for the swarms of flying blood banks that relentlessly feast on outdoor enthusiasts and are not easily shooed away. Unlike mosquitos that come out at dusk, black flies are fearless and launch their assaults during the day when people are most active. Despite Tony and Durwood’s best attempt to plan around this season, an early summer heat wave in the region kept the black flies biting just long enough to intersect with the trip. The two days traversing the Adirondacks turned out to be the worst, but at the time, Tony had delayed accepting and applying some of Durwood’s bug repellent. Given the opportunity, the black flies laid siege and “murdered” his legs even while riding. Blood dripped down to his socks. Heads turned at an ice cream shop. Meanwhile, Durwood breezed through without incident. “Well, it was black fly season for him,” reasoned Durwood as Tony describes his torment:

Once they emerged from the mountains, suffice to say they both applied sufficient bug repellent day and night, and especially along the swampy parts of the Erie Canalway Trail. It was a good lesson to always carry your own supply of bug repellent to easily have at hand just in case, and no matter the season.

Camping Life

The trip took Tony and Durwood through beautiful, remote regions of the Adirondacks with sparse hotel accommodations, so for two nights they camped at state campgrounds. Their bikes were loaded with all the camping gear they would need: hammocks, warm clothes, camp stoves, and extra food. It had been a while since Tony enjoyed sleeping under the stars and he found himself having a reckoning with the locals:

Mother Nature had another chuckle at Tony’s expense on the first night of camping at Lake Durant when he laid out all of his cycling clothes to air out around their camp site. While he took a shower at the campground facilities, an unexpected summer squall moved through and soaked everything hanging helplessly in the rain. With no nearby laundromat to dry them, Tony’s clothes were still wet in the morning and five pounds heavier (recall quote above about not liking to be wet). Tony pulled on his squishy wet kit and soldiered on the next day to Boonville, but it rained during that ride as well. So between the squall and riding in the rain, Tony was without dry bike clothes until he could found a laundry at a Syracuse hotel two days later.

But Mother Nature did provide views like this from their campground:

Home Sweet Hammock

The past few years have seen an upsurge in campers sleeping suspended between two trees in hammocks rather than on the ground in a tent. Modern camping hammocks are not the unstable, backyard variety we grew up. These are built with a deeper sides and fabric that wrap around the camper like a soft cocoon so falling out is never an issue. Durwood is a big fan of hammock camping, and this trip was Tony’s first foray. Although they only spent a few nights of their trip sleeping outdoors, they have great insight on why hammock camping rivals traditional tent camping:

• It is much more comfortable for sleeping. With a hammock, Durwood never wakes up stiff or with a backache. The body becomes less flexible and tolerant of being on the ground as we get older, so making sure it can rest and recover becomes much more important. Tony even credits the hammock with putting him the green (i.e. fully recovered) on his Whoop.

• You don’t have to worry about finding the perfect spot with level ground or free of rocks, so it opens up a lot more areas to camp. Some people think it would be difficult to find adequate trees to hang a hammock, but in Durwood’s experience, the eastern U.S. never has a lack of suitable trees.

• It ends up being lighter than a tent setup, weighing in at around 2 pounds. Instead of a sleeping bag and sleeping pad, the hammock uses an underquilt for bottom insulation, and then a top quilt as a blanket. The two items end up weighing less than a full sleeping bag and pad, and compress down smaller. Durwood’s hammock weighs around 10 ounces, and the tarp weighs less than 1 pound. The hammock, tarp, and nylon straps pack down to around the size of a football, which Tony was able to pack in his handlebar bag.

• The hammock’s tarp stretches out over a wider area than a tent so you have much more protected real estate for storing your other gear, for cooking, or just relaxing. The tarp has multiple setup configurations, such as being held up like a porch awning or drawn in tight for protection. It also has doors that can close in harsh weather or can be tied open when it’s pleasant so you don’t feel trapped inside.

Like any new piece of equipment, it does take some practice to set up and learn the proper tension, but once the system is dialed, you’re in the green.

The Wood Experience

Camping under the stars isn’t complete without a campfire to cook food and add warmth on a chilly night. When Tony was growing up in the area, it was simple enough to collect your own firewood to burn, but these days it’s a little more controlled. Friendly locals now keep cords of wood along the road and sell small bundles to campers driving - or riding - through. When you’re on a bike, however, there is consideration for just how to get that unwieldy, heavy bundle of wood to camp. Nothing was going to keep Durwood from having his campfire, even with 15 more miles of riding to reach the campground.

Days 1-4 Maps

Days 5-7: The Erie Canalway Trail

The second section of the trip was traversing New York state westward on the Erie Canalway Trail. Tony’s brother-in-law, Seth, joined them in Boonville on Day 5 to begin this leg. The 363-mile Erie Canalway Trail is part of the original Erie Canal and connects Albany and Buffalo over mostly rails-to-trails paths. It is the east-west section of the 750-mile Empire State Trail that also includes the Hudson Valley Greenway Trail (NYC to Albany) and the Champlain Valley Trail (Albany to Rouses Point). The Erie Canalway is similar to the C&O in history and popularity (as well as to the GAP and its former rail lines). It connects small towns and cities that once controlled lock systems throughout the canal. In the 1800s, boats of passengers and commerce from the booming Midwest interior flowed from Lake Erie in Buffalo to the Hudson River in Albany, then down to New York City and the world. Today the crushed limestone trail is a veritable highway for cyclists, whether locals on short day jaunts, or adventurers on multiweek tours. The small trail towns are now part of the vital network that supports hikers and cyclists on their adventures, and they in turn support the local economies.

The Erie Canalway Trail, while a great passageway on quiet, non-vehicular roads, did become a monotonous slog with its straight, flat terrain. The adjacent wetlands were also a breeding ground for mosquitos that took as equal a liking to Tony as the black flies. After around 150 miles on the trail, the riders diverted to parallel roads a few times for a change in terrain and to take advantage of a brisk tailwind on smooth pavement. Otherwise, the trail was a busy hub of bike tourists from all over the country and a great way to meet other riders. Kitty Litter Guy was one cyclist who became part of trip lore. An unmistakable, older gentleman with a white beard down to his waist, he was riding all of the lower 48 states using plastic kitty litter boxes for panniers because he believed they were a sign from God:

We Ride, Therefore We Eat (and Hydrate)

All those miles were burning off a lot of calories, and the early summer weather was keeping the riders in a constant state of needing to stay hydrated. Water was always a concern, especially in the heat and remote mountain locations. They both carried three full water bottles, and even then, they ran out of water on their hardest day climbing into Lake Placid. Durwood brought a water filter, but only used it once mostly to justify carrying it all that way.

Once they were out of the Adirondacks, they always came across convenience stores and shops in small towns to fill up with water and discover new snacks. It was in one of these no-name, roadside shops that Tony was introduced to the life-changing properties of chocolate milk for a mid-ride boost. In Pittsford they gorged on delicious, flaky croissants. In Dunkirk they found the best fish tacos ever at a hole-in-the-wall eatery. The proliferation of small town shops and markets along the route became a bike touring buffet. Durwood realized in hindsight that he didn’t need the 10 pounds or so of Trader Joe’s snacks since they were never far from eating.

Each night, the hungry hungry cyclists enjoyed a great dinner no matter what small town they finished in. They loved being able to eat everything they wanted for dinner, telling their server without pause, “Why yes, I do want fries with that!” They may not have lost weight, but the joy of eating endless amounts of food as fuel was a more valuable experience. Sometimes the small town meal surprised them with big city cuisine. Lake Placid is now know as having some of the best eggplant parmesan Tony had ever eaten - and he’s Italian. Other food-related memories were just the logistics getting to and from a restaurant with help from the locals:

Days 5-7 Maps

Days 8-11: Lake Erie to Pittsburgh

Navigating the coast of Lake Erie was along the Great Lakes Seaway Trail, a National Scenic Byway busy with lots of traffic, but also with plenty of nice scenery and small towns to explore. Tony planned to end his adventure on Day 9 when they arrived in Erie. His other life at work beckoned, but he finished a new (stronger!) man and any doubts of what he thought he could accomplish were left 600 miles back in Vermont.

Cycling on his own for the final push, Durwood made his way south through Ohio and discovered the Western Reserve Greenway Trail. The 45-mile, paved trail begins just a few miles from Lake Erie in Ashtabula, and heads south to Warren. The former rail line traverses rural Ohio and is almost entirely buffered with forest. It was a pleasant surprise and nice escape after riding along the populated shore of Lake Erie, especially as he encountered another day of rain.

On Day 11, Durwood made good time on the 60-mile leg and arrived early at Beaver Creek State Park campground just north of East Liverpool, Ohio. He looked around the primitive campsite and found it lacking any compelling reason to stay. The June sun was still high at 2 p.m.. He calculated that there were only 60 miles to Pittsburgh and that he could make it home before sunset. Rather than sit around an uninspiring campsite, he figured that he might as well keep moving on the bike. Even though he had ridden 90 miles the day before, he persisted for an epic final push: 120 miles, 7,000 feet of climbing, and a few unplanned 14% gravel roads that capped off riding from Vermont and the Canadian border in 11 days.

Days 8-11 Maps

Winning Gear Revelations

Both Tony and Durwood agreed that their Rene Herse Barlow Pass 38mm tires were “game changers.” They have ridden these specific tires for about a year (Tony owns several other sets of Rene Herse tires), but this tour more than confirmed the tires’ reputation as one of the most solid pieces of gear they’ve ever used. The tires’ smooth tread and wide surface area are designed for multi-surface conditions and they excelled on everything that Tony and Durwood met: road pavement, deep sand, hard pack trail, and occasional gravel.

Some riders have been conditioned to believe that wider tires are slower, but this has been debunked in repeated testing by Jan Heine from Rene Herse. This myth is confirmed by Tony and Durwood who found no loss of of speed or performance when riding on pavement. If anything, the tires provided even more confidence because they knew that the perfect width would allow them to easily roll through, or over, any terrain.

They both also had their tires set up as tubeless, which was another successful decision. Given the range of surfaces they might encounter, the tubeless tires allowed them to adjust air pressure as necessary without the worry of pinch flats, especially under a loaded bike. The repair of a tubeless tire is relatively simple: it either seals itself in the matter of minutes (sometimes you don’t even realize it), or larger holes can be sealed with a rubber plug. Tony and Durwood carried extra tire sealant and Dynaplugs, but did not need to use them.

Ortlieb is well-known for its waterproof, durable bags and panniers. Tony bought two of their handlebar bags right before the trip. The 9-liter handlebar pack was tucked under the handlebars and stuffed with his hammock and its accessories. The smaller, Ortlieb handlebar accessory pack sat within arms reach, and served perfectly for stashing snacks, electrolytes, and other items that he wanted easy access. As rain pounded them for hours one day in the mountains, Ortlieb’s reputation prevailed and the bags kept everything dry. Durwood was so impressed with the accessory pack’s durability and versatility that he borrowed Tony’s for his last two days and eventually bought his own.

You’re Stronger Than You Think

Both Tony and Durwood have nothing but positive memories of their bike tour. The highlights and breakthroughs have become “motivational currency” to do more rides into the unknown. It required a lot of detailed planning and months of anticipation, and then all of a sudden it was over. In the end, however, they were left knowing themselves better. The trip was a necessary check-in with who they were and what they could accomplish, questions that we all face as we get older and begin to second-guess our abilities.

Although he fit in as many pre-trip training rides as he could, Tony never felt they were enough. During the work week, he would rise in the pre-dawn hours to ride at 5 a.m. with his friend, Dave, and then with the bike club on weekends. His busy schedule left him with doubts that he would even be able to finish the 600-mile trip. He faced any stress and doubt with characteristic wit. There was a running joke that he had relatives stationed throughout New York state to pick him up if he had to quit….or he would just take an Uber to meet Durwood further down the road:

Tony never needed to call his family or hail an Uber. He rode the entire distance completely self-supported without any sag wagon help. His biggest revelation from the trip was that despite thinking he had not trained enough, given the break from work stress, his body was able to recover each day and keep going. He essentially rode into shape, getting stronger each day. Even the leg cramps that have vexed him for years never appeared, which he credits to being in “good enough shape” even if he didn’t think he was. This awareness of how well his body responded made him reflect on how draining it had been working non-stop through the first year of the pandemic. This trip was his first break in over a year. It was a chance for his body and mind to finally relax and to move forward with momentum, rather than to bear the weight of all the stress from the workplace.

Another revelation for both Tony and Durwood was unplugging from the constant news cycle, especially as the pandemic still consumed our lives. They did not watch television or listen to the radio or doomscroll through their smartphones. What they did observe was that by the time they reached the lakeshore of western New York, there was a sense that they had also come out of the darkness of the pandemic. Vaccines were taking hold, COVID-19 infection rates were already decreasing, and there was more hope that the country was coming around. When they started in Burlington, everyone was in masks and anxiety was still rampant. But a week later, they noticed a turn in attitudes and behaviors with more people in restaurants, and in Dunkirk people felt at ease being outside without masks. Observing life at a different time scale gave them a new perspective of change and much-needed hope.

What’s Next

The bug has been set to continue bike touring adventures. Both Tony and Durwood came to appreciate how efficient it was to use the rails-to-trails to reach a destination by bike, much like the trains or canal barges that the trails replaced. They allow cyclists to use protected, car free infrastructure to ride from one destination to the next, getting off at any time for side trips to expand the trails’ reach. This concept has Tony thinking of taking a few days to ride the GAP and C&O from Pittsburgh to Gettysburg, which is only 40 miles off the C&O. He’s never been to the battlefield and envisions that arriving by bike and then surveying the expansive historic grounds at a slow pace would be a perfect way to immerse in its scope and importance. After this, he would love to take another 10 to 12-day tour in 2022 to unplug from the world, recharge, and continue to challenge himself.

Durwood would like to return to the mountains of North Carolina. He is eyeing the 470-mile Blue Ridge Parkway that winds along the Appalachian ridgeline from the Great Smoky Mountains National Park in North Carolina to the 105-mile Skyline Drive in Shenandoah National Park in Virginia.