An experiment with bike camping, Part 1

Over the years I’ve backpacked, kayak camped, and car camped, but I’ve never tried bikepacking - that is, a camping trip by bicycle. I did do a couple of American Youth Hostels trips back in the 70’s, but those were hostel to hostel, not tent camping. Plus, they were such disasters that I don’t like thinking about them even today.  

I have a goal of riding the entire Great Allegheny Passage (GAP) trail, which runs 150 miles from Cumberland, MD to Pittsburgh. Under normal circumstances the logistics of this trail are pretty easy - there are lots of towns along the way with services catering to trail users. Food and lodging abound. Unfortunately, right now is not normal circumstances, and any trip along the GAP would have to be much more self-sustained - tent camping rather than inns, and less reliance on restaurants. Things might get easier over time, but in the immediate term in the world of coronavirus, some of the more civilized options, which means more contact with people, are unappealing. So I’ve decided that if I’m going to do the GAP any time soon, I had better be prepared to do it in a self-contained way.

As a first step towards my GAP trail goal I decided to experiment with a one night bikepacking trip on the C&O Canal towpath. For the record, the C&O connects to the GAP so one could start in Georgetown and bike the 300 miles all the way to Pittsburgh. In fact, last year Ted hiked from DC to Pittsburgh. But right now that’s a bridge too far for me - baby steps, baby steps.

The first thing I did was to see how my camping gear fit into my old bike panniers. Now, I have fairly compact camping gear - sized for kayak camping - but I don’t really have my gear down to backpacker level. I stuck my tent, sleeping bag, air mattress and a few other basics into my panniers and found that just those items used most of the available space. There was no way I was going to be able to do a trip with just those bags. In recent days I have justified any number of impulse purchases under the notions of relieving quarantine boredom and keeping businesses afloat during the pandemic, and so I ordered myself a bike trailer. I think that with the trailer and panniers I still have maybe a half to two thirds the storage space of a kayak (without loading the trailer to the sky, that is), but the trailer gave me enough capacity to carry the basic gear I needed for a short camping trip.

One consideration is that I wanted to be as self-reliant as possible. Normally, the C&O campsites have water pumps, but these had been disabled due to coronavirus and were only beginning to be re-enabled. The campsites have Porta-potties as well, but given coronavirus, ... eeeew. As a result, I brought my own water with me - a little more than a gallon in addition to the two water bottles on my bike - which only added to the weight I was carrying. As it happened, the water pump at this site is indeed functional, but seeing how many people stopped and pumped water from it while I was setting up camp, I really had no desire to touch it. I also brought all the food I'd need; the towpath passes near lots of towns, but there was no telling what would be open in any of them. As for the Porta-potties, I brought a WAG bag in case I needed one. 

My bikepacking rig

I loaded my clothes, food, and a few other items into the panniers. Everything else went into big dry bags to be carried on the trailer. Fortunately, from kayak camping I have a good inventory of dry bags. They’re useful for organizing gear, they keep stuff dry (duh!), and three of the big ones I have fit perfectly on the trailer. I was ready to go!

I lucked out with the weather too as I headed for Noland’s Ferry. June in the DC area can be hot and sticky, but I was blessed with cool weather - highs in the 70's, lows near 60. Sunny on the first day, but with a chance of showers on the second. 

I didn’t have a feel for how difficult it would be to ride a fully loaded bike plus trailer on a gravel trail, but I knew that I wasn’t going to be looking to ride all day, so I headed out mid-day with the goal of hitting one of two campsites: one near Harper’s Ferry that meant about a 20 mile ride, or one near Shepherdstown that would mean about a thirty-something mile ride.

Riding with the full load didn’t seem particularly difficult (fortunately the towpath is flat!), but I soon realized I was moving at only about 7.5 MPH. I am a *slow* cyclist. On paved roads or trails that means about 12 MPH (normal people ride at 15, and serious cyclists can sustain much faster speeds than that). Even for me, 7.5 MPH is surprisingly slow. Reaching these campsites was going to take a little time. Fortunately, I had a perfect day for it. In addition to the cool temps, the trail is shaded so there was no issue of the sun beating down. I put in my earphones and cued up an audio book and y’know, time just passed. The trail is pretty - under a canopy of trees, mostly along the river. It’s generally flat and straight. The only challenge I ran into was a spot where a bridge is washed out and the temporary detour involves a steep descent down rough gravel followed by a very narrow wooden bridge, followed by an equally steep ascent back to the trail. It was steep and slippery enough that I couldn’t even walk the bike and trailer together - the rig started getting away from me to the point where I had to steer it into an embankment to stop it. I unhitched the trailer and walked it and the bike across separately.

Narrow temporary crossing

While the riding seemed easy, I’m a little out of shape from months of pandemic sitting around. After about two hours my butt started to hurt. When I reached Huckleberry Hill campsite I had been riding for three hours and I decided I didn’t want to ride another two hours or so to get to the Shepherdstown campsite, so I made the decision to make camp at the closer site. I was only three miles past Harpers Ferry and it was only 4 PM and so after making camp I decided to ride back and see if I could get some food in town. Unfortunately, the bridge across from the Maryland side to the WV side is still closed - a train derailment a while back rendered the pedestrian bridge, which is part of the railroad bridge - unsafe. So, I could see the town but I couldn’t get to it. Instead, I biked to the trailhead of the Maryland Heights trail and did a short - but very vertical - hike up to the Naval Artillery viewpoint (named after artillery that was emplaced there during the Civil War). By the time I got back to camp it was pushing 7 o’clock. Time for the simple, no cook dinner I had brought. 

At the campsite

At the Huckleberry Hill campsite

After dinner I poured myself a generous glass of bourbon and settled in to watch the sunset. The campsite sits above the river bank, and there was a trail right down to the water's edge, where I stood and watched the explosion of color of a truly spectacular sunset. I recited the Shehecheyanu prayer, which is said in appreciation of reaching special occasions and new or unusual experiences - not for the sunset (of which there's one every day) but for experiencing my first camping experience of the year. Once it got dark I called Valerie, then retreated to my tent and watched part of a movie before turning in for bed.

A truly stunning sunset

One thing I didn’t expect is how dusty I’d get riding the trail. It hasn’t rained in a while and I guess in dry weather just riding kicks up a bunch of trail dust - covering my bike, the trailer, and all the bags (wrong day to wear all black cycling gear!).

Dust on the front fork

I will say that people on the trail are generally friendly. As I was setting up camp a few other bikepackers rode by and said hi. I even saw a woman on a tadpole trike like Valerie’s towing camping gear in a single wheel trailer.

        

Seen at Maryland Heights

Oh, and someone lost some goats!