Stove Restoration

With the realization that the pandemic will continue through the winter, pretty much everyone is doing some preparatory "nesting", getting ready to spend the cold season at home. There's been a run on patio heaters and fire pits as folks look to extend the cozy backyard season into the colder months. I bought a small tabletop patio heater, which works nicely for a couple of people around a table, say eating a meal together. I didn't get the big eight foot tall kind because, quite frankly, I couldn't be bothered dealing with such a huge thing and the associated tanks of propane (which, it turns out, are in more plentiful supply than the 1 lb. tanks that power my little heater). I also own a metal firepit, but it's a little decrepit and besides, fire pits are nice, but a backyard fire is smoky and everyone winds up on shpilkes constantly getting up and moving positions around the fire like weathervanes to stay out of the smoke as the plume shifts. 

I also happen to own an antique cast iron wood stove. This stove was décor in my parents' house - never hooked up for use, just on display. We referred to it as a "potbelly stove", but in fact that's the wrong term, as it doesn't bow out in a shape that merits that name. Generically, it is a "parlor stove" - a small ornamental stove meant to heat a room rather than a house. It is cylindrical in shape, and I've seem this type of stove referred to as a "cylinder stove". They are also sometimes called "oak stoves". This stove bears a "Manor Oak" nameplate, though the parts are stamped "Park Oak". Apparently, Round Oak Stove Company of Michigan was the Cadillac of stoves in the day, which I suspect is where the "oak stove" term comes from. I also suspect that all these other "Such and Such Oaks" were knockoffs capitalizing on the name. See what you can learn on the Internet?

Anyway, somewhere in my online reading about stoves I had seen an example of someone using one as a patio heater, and I thought "ah ha!". I had been displaying the stove in my home office (Valerie barred it from the rest of the house, having reached her limit of acceding to displaying threadbare Aronson heirlooms) but after seeing the online post I realized it could be put to good use on the patio. A cast iron woodstove can throw off a lot of heat, and it contains smoke a lot better than does a fireplace. Yeah, you don't get the charm of the feel of an open fire, but you get lots of warmth with less smoke. 

There was only one problem. Sometime - probably in the 50's or 60's - a painter working at my parents' house had talked them into letting him do an artistic paint job on the thing. While the paint job gave it a kind of European look (not universally beloved - see previous mention of Valerie's feelings about the stove), it was done without utility in mind. The paint was not high temperature paint and who knows what kind of fumes would come off the thing if a fire was lit in it. I resolved to strip that finish off and recoat it with stove paint. The stove also had suffered various indignities, including taking a nice swim during Hurricane Sandy, so it needed some minor fixing up. It would have needed more fixing up for indoor use - making sure it was sealed so fumes didn't leak out, and so on, but that level of restoration wasn't necessary for my outdoor application.

Here's the stove in its old paint job

Stripping the Stove

My first thought was to have it sandblasted, but that proved to be an expensive proposition. In a way I'm glad I didn't go that route, because it probably would have stripped everything off down to the bare metal. One thing I discovered as I worked on it was that various parts - most of what had been painted black in the "artistic" paint job - had been plated (maybe nickel?) and underneath still had something of a shiny metal finish to them (I had seen similar looks online in pictures of restored stoves). On my stove the parts are pitted and the plating is far from perfect, but I resolved to leave those as-is once I got the paint off them rather than covering the remaining plating with paint.

Actually, it was the nickel-plated pieces that lured me into this crazy project. There are some parts of the stove - the ring near the top, and the skirts near the bottom - that come off easily with no tools. When I got the idea of doing this project I pulled those parts off and as a test tried stripping them - and wow, it was easy to remove the paint! I guess paint doesn't adhere all that well to shiny metal surfaces. That early test gave me a what turned out to be a false impression of how easy the whole paint removal process was going to be.

To remove the paint I first coated the stove with Citrus Strip paint stripper, which did a better job on some parts than others. As mentioned, the nickel plated parts came clean pretty easily, while the paint clung tenaciously to the cast iron. At the recommendation of several friends I decided to light the stove up to see if heat would burn off the paint, which, to a major extent it did. I stayed far away from the stove while it burned, as it smelled pretty bad as the paint burned off (lead paint? burning paint stripper residue? who knows ...). Unfortunately, the fire didn't take everything off, as the parts of the stove beyond the main cylinder don't get very hot.

Firing it up to try to burn off the old paint

Various stove parts during stripping

I then attacked it with more paint stripper, hand and electric wire brushes, and an electric sander. I wanted to get it clean enough that I wouldn't have to worry about more paint burning off, and so that a new finish would have a clean surface to which to adhere. I would have loved to have gotten 100% of the old paint off, but as I worked on it and worked on it and worked on it I realized that I was never going to achieve that goal. Oh well, I said to reassure myself that the 80% solution was OK, it's just being restored for backyard use anyway, not for display or for antique resale value.

The job included partially dismantling the stove so I could get access to all the nooks and crannies. I was pleasantly surprised to discover that a number of parts of the stove came off pretty easily. To really do the job right  I would have had to have broken the whole stove down, but that would have involved fighting with a lot more antique rusty screws and for my purposes partial disassembly was enough. I did manage to take off both doors, the crown, and the Manor Oak name plate. I was also able to get the view window frame off, which was important for window restoration (more on this later). 

Lower door showing vent

Through watching a YouTube video about how to operate a stove like this I had learned that the little round things on the two stove doors are actually vents that control airflow to the fire. They had been screwed shut for I don't know how long - at least half a century, probably longer - and had gotten bathed in seawater during Hurricane Sandy and so I was amazed when I was able to get them turning with only a modicum of effort. Basically, all I did was clamp the handles in a vise and turn the doors, and that little bit of leverage was enough to get the vents unstuck. I did hit them with a little Naval Jelly to try and take some of the rust off, but once I start using it they'll just rust up again so I didn't put too much effort into rust removal.

Painting

There are various products you can use to finish cast iron stoves - something called stove black, which seems to need frequent reapplication,  high temperature spray paint (meant for things like stoves and BBQ grills), and "Stove Bright", which I initially thought was a separate product category but is just a brand of spray paint popular among stove aficionados. I went with the regular old Rustoleum high temp spray paint because it was readily available at Home Depot and costs $4 per can.

Prepping cast iron isn't easy, as the stuff rusts as fast as you can strip it. I fretted about painting over rust and little bits of leftover paint, but after seeing people on YouTube spray paint over thin rust like I have on the stove, I decided to just go for it. I applied three coats. The first went on easily. The paint instructions say to recoat within one hour or after 48 hours - I guess that within one hour the paint is still wet enough that a second coat just blends in and it all becomes one big coat, and after 48 hours it's probably thoroughly dried. I applied a second coat about an hour after the first, and it went on smoothly. It was getting dark by then, so I waited 48 hours before applying a third coat. The third coat didn't go on quite as well. There's a little crackling in places, but I think it's good enough - and even if it peels off, there are two additional coats beneath it.

Before painting

After the first coat

View Window

Looking at front of the stove you can see that it has a view window on the larger door so you can check on the fire when it's burning and get a little glimpse of the flames. The problem is, for as long as I can remember the glazing of that window has been missing - it was just open. That's fine for a piece that's just on display, but having smoke pouring out of that window (as happened when I lit the stove to burn off the old paint) negates the whole low smoke idea, so I set off in search of replacement glass. I figured I would use some sort of high temperature glass like you see in modern stoves and fireplace doors, or maybe just use some decorative perforated metal or lattice. Metalwork wouldn't be perfect, as it would neither totally seal against smoke nor allow a good view of the fire, but I figured it might be easier to work with than glass and might be a way to address the fact that I had to fit curved openings in the door - and glass is usually flat. 

Then, through some online research I discovered that the material in these viewing windows was often not glass but rather thin mica known as eisenglass. Eisenglass sheets have the appearance of plexiglass, can take very high temperatures (up to 1800° F, well above the temperature at which the stove will burn), the thin sheets are easy to cut with scissors and best of all, are flexible enough to handle curved surfaces! I guess eisenglass is durable, too, since in horse and buggy days it was used for carriage windows - something you'd already know if you'd paid attention to the lyrics of the classic song "Surrey with The Fringe On Top". Confusingly, there are two other materials referred to as eisenglass (sometimes spelled isinglass) - one made of plastic, and the other of fish bladders! Anyway, we live in miraculous times. I can discover that I need a 4x6" piece of an obscure old-time material I've never before heard of, find a source for it online with nothing more than a quick search, and have it delivered to my door two days later. Amazing. And fortunately, I got the right eisenglass - I didn't open the package to find dried fish bladders.

Eisenglass cut to size

The Finished Stove!

After letting the paint dry overnight I put all the pieces together. The lower door had been missing one of its hinge pins - I was able to find a substitute at my local old-fashioned hardware store. I have no idea what the intended purpose of the replacement part is, but it fits perfectly as a hinge pin. The view window went together with new screws, while I used the old screw for the brand plate since it was a pan head that fit the plate perfectly. The stove looks great! See for yourself ...

The finished product

Stovepipe

Now, in terms of making it usable, the stove still as an issue of a big hole in the back where it's meant to connect to a chimney. Once again, my whole idea is to be able to provide heat without dumping smoke on people so a big waist high hole puffing smoke isn't really optimal. I decided to see if I could add a little chimney to the stove. Fortunately, the vent opening is 6", not some weird archaic size like a thousandth of a furlong. 6" vent pipe is fairly standard (of the two local home store chains, Home Depot doesn't carry it, but Lowes does). I ordered two 2' sections of pipe and a 90 degree elbow - which again were delivered to my door. Everything went together pretty much as expected, except what I hadn't realized was that the elbow was something fancy - it's made of various sections that you can rotate relative to one another to get any angle from 45 to 90 degrees. That's a clever design, but not so good for my purposes, since it meant the stack would just flop over sideways. Also, The attachment point to the stove isn't that secure and has only one hole - not really secure enough to hold up a big pipe. Clearly, my stovepipe was going to need supplementary support. Also, I wanted to make it removable so that the stove could be moved and stored. I put on my thinking cap (stovepipe hat?) to try and devise a solution.

What I came up with was using two metal rods as legs for the stovepipe, and a cotter pin to hold the pipe to the stove. The pictures below show a prototype. I had bought two hose clamps to attach the legs but the clamps, it turns out, are too big a size and can't be tightened enough to hold the legs securely, so in the picture the legs are temporarily held in place with wire. I attached the cotter pin to the stovepipe with wire as a "leash" so it doesn't get lost. Actually, I attached two cotter pins since I may yet drill a second hole to make the attachment to the stove more secure. I may also build a base for the legs to hold them in place more securely - likely just a block of wood with two holes in which the legs will sit.

Elbow attachment using cotter pins (with "leashes")

Prototype chimney

Finally ...

As of this writing I haven't yet tried out the stove. According to the paint instructions, bringing the stove up to high heat cures the paint, and so I really need to do that as a final painting step. I'm not sure what to do about curing the paint on the parts of the stove - like the legs and skirt - that don't get all that hot. I can either leave them as-is or take a torch or heat gun to them. Normally, you'd use heat to remove paint - here I would be using it counterintuitively to improve the paint. I will update the posting with a picture (hopefully not including any firefighters) once I light the stove.  

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Update: We have liftoff!

First fire

For nostalgia buffs: here's the stove in my parents' dining room (peeking into the right side of the pic between my brother and what I guess to be my grandfather's arm)

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Postscript:

Sadly, the unpainted parts of the stove started to rust very quickly. After cleaning off the rust I found a clear high temperature spray paint and gave them a few coats, which seems to be keeping further rusting at bay. Also, since it's a glossy paint it gives those parts a nice luster. In the process of doing so I removed and cleaned the finial, which I hadn't done in the previous part of the restoration, and painted underneath it - so now things are even better!

I also made a wood base for the stovepipe legs so they rest more firmly on the ground. I used a little piece of scrap western red cedar left over from making a kayak paddle. Cedar is a weather-resistant wood, so the base (which I hand-rubbed with a couple of coats of tung oil) should last a while. I also drilled a second hole (it's not as hard to drill into cast iron as I had feared) so the stovepipe now attaches with two pins.

Great Northern at The State Theatre

 Lately, I've been playing with a Grateful Dead themed band called Great Northern Out of DC (for the uninitiated, the name is a reference to a Dead lyric). I never thought that 41 years after I saw my first Dead show and 25 years after Jerry Garcia died that I would be back playing this music. But there's still a community of people very supportive of this music, and it's fun to be a part of it. I subbed with this band after their previous keyboard player left and <arrogance> needless to say</arrogance> they asked me to join the band as their new keyboard player - and I said yes. 

I've done a few shows with them, and we've got one more on the books before the weather turns too cold to play outdoors (we're not comfortable playing indoor gigs due to the pandemic). The State Theatre in Falls Church was particularly fun - it was a very pleasant autumn evening, and the venue is top-notch. They provide PA and also do this very cool thing with projections on the side of the buildings surrounding their parking lot (where we performed). The projections are provided by Light Works Planet Earth.

Here are a couple of pictures and a video:

Coffeeneuring 2020

 This post will be updated as my coffeeneuring continues ... 

So, a local cycling blogger hosts an annual challenge called "coffeeneuring". It's not an extreme challenge, like riding a century or running a marathon. Rather, it's a lighthearted way to get people out on their bikes and, in better times, socializing. The basic notion (cribbed from the event web site) is:

• over the course of 7’ish weeks,
• ride your bike to 7 different places,
• at least 2 miles round trip each time,
• drink 7 cups of coffee (or similar), and
• take 7 pictures (or other documentation) as proof of your coffeeneuring.

Most importantly, there are trinkets! People who complete the challenge can get a patch! There was also a chance to order socks, but I didn't notice it until two weeks after the deadline had passed.

Here are my coffeeneuring rides:

Week 1: 10/10 - 10/16

Ride #1:

Date: 10/13/20

Destination: Tysons Corner Walmart, in an attempt to buy 1 lb. gas cylinders for my tabletop patio heater. Oh, yeah - I shouldn't forget to mention that I dropped off my ballot for the presidential election along the way - fingers crossed! I got my beverage at the Dunkin' Donuts across the street, at 1495 Cornerside Blvd., Vienna, VA

Strava link: https://www.strava.com/activities/4191325409

Mileage: 18.6

Beverage: Dunkin' Donuts decaf iced coffee. Okay, this isn't a properly hoity-toity coffeeneuring beverage, but it was a surprisingly warm day, and I had forgotten to bring water. The iced coffee was the only decaf they had (I've generally avoided caffeine since briefly being dead back in 2017).

Ride #2:

Date: 10/15/20

Destination: Thursday coffee club. This used to be known as WTFCC, for "Whole (the) Foods Coffee Club". Due to pandemic consideration it no longer meets at Whole Foods. Instead, it meets where there's a group of Adirondack chairs outside an office park in Crystal City. So I don't know what the location is called. I used to go to coffee clubs pretty regularly, but when I'm not commuting anywhere it's a lot harder to convince myself to get out the door at 6:30 AM. Outside of 201 12th St. S, Arlington, VA.

Strava link: https://www.strava.com/activities/4198064239

Mileage: 18.8

Beverage: Drip coffee (decaf, of course, since I've generally avoided caffeine since pieces of my heart were replaced with aftermarket parts in 2017).

Week 2: 10/17 - 10/23 

Ride #3:

Destination: Mom & Pop at Mosaic District, Merrifield. 2909 District Ave., Fairfax, VA. I went there to meet my friend and former co-worker Sharlene. As hard as it is to believe, we've known each other for 27 years. For 24 of those years we worked for the same company (though not always in the same organization). She's still there! 

Strava link: https://www.strava.com/activities/4234324188

Mileage: 13

Beverage: Decaf skim latte (decaf because I've generally avoided caffeine since the day my doctor, having finally gotten around to taken a second look at my test results, called me up and said, "you should avoid any strenuous exercise and go see a cardiologist as soon as possible." That made for a great story over dinner on Friday, and hospitalization the following Monday).

Week 3: 10/24 - 10/30

Ride #4:

Destination: Cafe Amouri. 107 Church St NE, Vienna, VA 22180. I just needed a destination to head for on a short ride to get out and get moving after a fairly sedentary day. I had forgotten that Brad, a guitarist I play with, is the coffee roasting guy there, so I got a pleasant surprise of having a chance to say a quick "hi" to him.  

Strava link: https://www.strava.com/activities/4251549889

Mileage: 15.6

Beverage: Decaf skim latte (decaf because I've generally avoided caffeine since that time when the chest pains my doctor had long misdiagnosed as seasonal asthma turned out to be my coronary arteries doing their best impersonation of the Beltway at rush hour).

Week 4: 10/31 - 11/6

Ride #5:

Destination: Hump Day Coffee Club. Shirlington, Arlington, VA. In normal times, HDCC is my favorite of the daily BikeArlington morning coffee clubs. I love the Best Buns bran muffins and am willing to look the other way at the buttery stains they leave on their wrapper (my diet really shouldn't  include anything that leaves buttery or oily residue). I like the seating, both indoors and out, and I like that it's a little closer to home than the other coffee clubs and so doesn't require quite as early a departure. But these are not normal times. There is no seating at Best Buns at present, and so coffee club has moved to the breezeway next to Guapo's.  

Strava link: https://www.strava.com/activities/4284866231

Mileage: 10.4

Beverage: I learned that Best Buns has gotten a little more user-friendly about ordering since the last time I was there early in the pandemic and so I think I could go back to ordering from them. Still, right now they're not making the bran muffins (since the pandemic started they haven't been making any of their sourdough-based products, for whatever reason) and without bran muffin temptation it's easier to stay on the low fat wagon. I brought my own coffee and breakfast. Just plain old black coffee, and a container of overnight oats with dried blueberries and slivered almonds. The coffee is, of course, decaf (because I've generally avoided caffeine since that time I was way ahead of trend in spending time on a ventilator).

Week 5: 11/7 - 11/13

Ride #6:

Destination: Peet's Coffee, Shirlington. When you ride a loop, is the destination the same as the starting point, or is it the place you stopped to get coffee?

Does my coffeeneuring have to include an Arlington loop? Of course it does. I can access the loop from my house with just the littlest of pigtails and so it's a frequent ride for me. The last time I rode it I had forgotten to fill my water bottle and so I stopped at my old office in Rosslyn, where I knew there was water available in the bike room. Since my time they've apparently added a card reader to the door, but the old mechanical pushbutton lock is still there. It still opens the door, but if you open the door this way without badging in it sets off an incredibly loud alarm. Oops. I only wish the card reader had been there in the old days, when half the time the door wouldn't even latch. Once the alarm went off I quickly left the premises without taking the time to fill up my water bottle. 

This trip was much more uneventful. Nice weather for November, wound up sitting outside and having coffee at Peet's.

Strava link: https://www.strava.com/activities/4319754180

Mileage: 19.5

Beverage: I still order drinks as "skim", though Millennial baristas refer to it as "non-fat" (maybe it's their training rather than their age). In any case, large skim decaf latte and a Tosi snack bar, something I'd never tried before (thumbs up!). Decaf because ... well, I think you get it by now.

Ride #7:

Destination: Green Lizard Coffee/Bike Shop. Herndon, VA. Living nearly adjacent to the W&OD means I do a lot of riding there, and I know the destinations to achieve certain mileages pretty well. Thirty mile ride? That's Green Lizard. 40 mile round trip? Rt. 28. And so on. 

I sat at one of their (new, COVID era) outdoor picnic tables and got into a conversation with a fellow sitting at the other end of the table. It was one of those weird, only in Washington conversations that two people working in national security have - never mentioning anything specific or classified, of course, but using a sort of weird verbal pantomime to be able to talk about those worlds in a safe way. I would say with 90% certainty that I know what agency he works for and in what particular domain of spooky technology - though he said nothing beyond that he worked for the government.

Strava link: https://www.strava.com/activities/4332460979

Mileage: 31.7

Beverage: Genuine coffee. The stuff with caffeine. Because every once in a while I love the rush you get from consuming caffeine when you no longer have a baseline tolerance for it. I'm cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs! Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs! Bouncy, bouncy, bouncy, bouncy fun fun fun fun fun!

Week 6: 11/14 - 11/20

No rides. How'd that happen?

Week 7: 11/21 - 11/23

No rides. I had planned on doing a combined accordioneuring/coffeeneuring ride on the 23rd, but the weather turned out to be funky - cold and very windy. Oh well, some day I'll have to do an "Always Be Accordioneuring" ride.

Great Allegheny Passage Trail

Day 1: Monday 10/5

There's a point in my extended kayak expeditions when everyone starts to smell bad. There's no way around smelling bad - too few clothes, too little opportunity for personal hygiene. I mean really bad. Like, anyone who has ridden the New York subway knows that as a train pulls into a station it delivers ahead of itself a cloud of dirty air redolent of urine, garbage and the body odor of millions of subway riders. Now, imagine you're on a New York subway platform holding a block of blue cheese and just as an approaching train delivers its stench cloud you take of whiff of the cheese to determine whether it's gone bad (which it has). It's that kind of bad. The thing is, all of us on the trip know we're going to wind up smelling bad. We all know we're going to keep seeing each other in the same clothes which grow grungier day by day, and those who are cursed with having hair are going to look a little more matted with each passing day. But we all know it, we all accept it, and we all expect it (and know to ignore it) in each other. And we know we'll be out in the wilderness where there's no one to see us, smell us, or care.

So, as I was packing for my Great Allegheny Passage trip with Gail and Chris I was faced with a conundrum in determining how much stuff to bring. I don't have the sort of mutual filthiness understanding with Gail and Chris that I have with my kayaking friends and so I felt compelled to bring enough clothing to stay relatively presentable over five days. Plus, as we were staying in civilization (or what passes for it in small town Pennsylvania), I also didn't want to be stinking up the B&Bs. Last, I absolutely, absolutely didn't want to be one of those people who walks around in Spandex cycling clothing when off the bike like some MAMIL* superhero wannabe. This all militated against my being able to pack super light. I knew both G&C were going to be towing trailers, and while I had hoped to stick to just panniers, the amount of clothing and other stuff dictated by five days of travel pushed me to also break out the trailer. I wound up filling three large dry bags (always good to pack in, as they seal out rain, dust, etc.) with clothing, food and supplies - and I must say, at the end of the trip I really didn't feel I had brought too much extra stuff (well, maybe I could have lived without the iPad). Certainly, while I thought I was brining way too much food, I wound up eating almost all of it!

The idea for this trip came about this past summer. In one of our few forays outside of home we went to visit Gail and Chris at their (semi-retirement) home in Lewes, DE, and while there, I mentioned that a GAP trail trip was on my bucket list. Gail is a really avid traveler. Usually, at any given time she's got a number of trips both near and far in the works. She's been really frustrated by the travel difficulties associated with the COVID pandemic and she took what started as idle "let's ride the GAP sometime" talk in their backyard as a call to action and before I knew it, she was texting me with a date and travel plans for a trip! 

Day 1: Monday, 10/65 (1 mi)

On Day 1 (Monday) we all showed up right on time at Cumberland Trail Connection in Cumberland, MD, where we were going to catch a shuttle to Pittsburgh. I felt like the three of us with our bikes and trailers full of gear were carrying enough stuff for a month-long trip, but what the heck - it all fit so we brought it. Our shuttle driver was a young guy named Robbie. In deference to COVID precautions we all kept our masks on for the whole ride. Chris made some joke along the lines of, Don't worry, we haven't been to any Trump events recently" (this being right after the president had come down with COVID), which made Robbie crack a big smile and say, "Ohhh - this is going to be a fun ride!" Houses in this part of Pennsylvania is heavily festooned with Trump signs, and I guess he was a Democrat happy to come across some fellow travelers.

Robbie dropped us off at Point State Park in downtown Pittsburgh, which sits at the confluence of the Allegheny and Monongahela Rivers and is also the starting point of the GAP trail. It was about 4 in the afternoon and we weren't starting our ride until the next day and so the three of us biked the short distance to our hotels, which were both near the baseball stadium. Gail and Chris may have had an easier time navigating their hotel since they were two people, but I had quite a time wheeling my bike and trailer through the hotel, getting the whole rig (bike detached from the trailer) into the elevator, and then getting the rig from the elevator to my room, which of course sat at the far end of the hallway. My hotel (a Residence Inn) was quite nice and I didn't see another guest the whole time I was there, which made me feel a little safer COVID-wise. Still, upon entering my room I whipped out my pack of sanitizing wipes and went over all the high touch surfaces, then spread out the pillowcase I had brought over their pillow for an added layer of safety. These precautions may have been unnecessary, but they gave me a feeling of control in an era where just leaving the house - let alone going to a hotel - seems risky.

My bike in my room

We met up again to go out for dinner. We headed across the Roberto Clemente bridge into downtown and wound up at a Greek restaurant called Christos Mediterranean Grille, where we sat at a streetside table and were waited on by an older Greek guy, complete with Greek fisherman's cap and very shaky hands. I immediately liked the guy because he could have been straight out of the ethnic mish-mash of my childhood in Brooklyn, and fellow Brooklynite Gail was taken with him too - so much so that every time he tried to upsell us something (Would you like some hummus? Potatoes with your salad? ...) she said yes. It turns out we were being waited on by Christos himself, and that his claim to fame was that he had cooked for Jackie and Aristotle Onassis (according to this review he was their personal chef aboard their yacht). Every upsell came with a story about how Jackie O had loved that dish. The salad, otherwise a typical Greek salad, included slices of banana - a combination that seemed strange, but Christos explained that was how Jackie liked it. And of course, we had to try Jackie's favorite dessert, a vanilla cake with Greek honey, custard and whipped cream. The three of us split one serving and it was delicious. So now I can say I've had dinner prepared for me by a billionaire's personal chef (and a real billionaire at that, not someone who plays one on television). Ευχαριστώ, Christos!

Gail and Chris with Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis' favorite dessert

Here I am, preparing to photograph the Jackie O cake

Day 2: Tuesday, 10/6 (41 mi)

In pandemic times hotels have done away with breakfast buffets in favor of grab and go meals. This helps prevent the spread of the virus and I assume also saves the hotels money - I'm pretty sure the cup of yogurt and granola bar that composed my takeaway breakfast was cheaper than the buffet would have been. Being an early riser and expecting, as I was, a skimpy breakfast at the hotel, I rose early and made my way over to the nearest Starbucks (which I had spotted the previous evening - just up the block from Christos) where I got a decaf and an order of oatmeal. Back at my hotel I ate breakfast and then repacked everything (one disadvantage of dry bags is you wind up pulling a lot of stuff out to find anything, vs. a regular suitcase or duffel with a bigger opening). The three of us met up in front of the baseball stadium. We could have shaved a little bit off of the trip by catching the trail closer to the bridge but we decided to return to Point State Park so we could take pictures and officially start our trip at the trail's terminus. After photo duties, we were off!

The beginning of the trail snakes its way through Pittsburgh (we got only mildly lost) before crossing the distinctive Hot Metal Bridge (really! - Pittsburgh place names include a lot of steel references) and heading into the suburbs. We agreed that if you weren't focused on doing the whole thing end to end, it could make sense to start about 7 miles in at Homestead. The scenery stayed suburban through McKeesport and then the countryside started to open up. Still, most of the day's scenery was pretty unspectacular, but we didn't care - we were just excited to be on our adventure.

Our goal for the first day was the town of West Newton. The day was really consumed by the novelty of riding. We stayed together the whole time and no one had their ear buds in - we just rode along, marveling at being on the trail at long last, and of course (in COVID times) traveling anywhere at all.

After about 40 miles of riding we rumbled into West Newton, and easily found our lodging, which sits adjacent to the trail. The Bright Morning B&B actually occupies four adjacent houses (plus a "bike barn") alongside the trail. We were met by Rob, the innkeeper - properly masked - but unfortunately, the pandemic makes interactions distant and weird and so we didn't talk with him very much other than to get instructions and dinner recommendations. The inn was more old timey than fancy - one could easily imagine you had gone back in time there. Actually, it reminded me very much of an inn in the Canaan Valley area of West Virginia, coincidentally also called the Bright Morning. My room was on the first floor, directly off the kitchen (which in that building is there just for the guests - no one is cooking meals there, so it wasn't noisy), while G&C were upstairs in the same building. The owners live in a separate part of the building (I met Mary Lou, the wife, not masked, as she transited through the house into the owners' quarters), but I don't think anyone else was there in that building, so not too much COVID risk, though of course I did my little sanitizing routine with the wipes.

One of several times we crossed the Youghiogheny River - lots of cool bridges!

Many of the towns along the trail are pretty dead. Since this was our first night we didn't realize how relatively thriving West Newton was, with a number of restaurants and even a drug store within easy walking distance of the inn. Chris and I walked over to the Trailside Inn and got some beer, which the three of us brought back and drank outside the inn, then we went back to the Trailside for dinner (outside). The menu wasn't particularly heart healthy, but I figured that riding 40 miles probably balanced out whatever I was going to eat. I wound up getting the fired fish sandwich, which was quite good, with vinegary cole slaw. Then it was back to the room, where I worked on the blog writeup for my recent kayaking excursion (my adventures have been coming right on the heels of one another - which is good!), watched part of a movie and then went to bed.

 

One of the buildings of the Bright Morning Inn

 Day 3: Wednesday, 10/7 (43 mi) 

On Monday we were just excited to ride and we did our day's riding with pretty much no breaks. We had broken the trip up into four days (people often do it in three) in order to be more leisurely about it and so we made it a conscious focus to relax a little in our riding. After a nice breakfast on the inn's patio (most guests ate inside, but we were a little creeped out at the notion of being in the dining room with all those unmasked people) we packed up our stuff and got rolling about 9 AM, which actually made us the last ones out (at least judging by the emptiness of the bike barn). In the course of packing up I also discovered luggage services - I saw two different vans roll up to pick up people's luggage. Apparently there's a whole industry of shuttle drivers, not just of people, but of luggage - transporting people's bags from one inn to the next so they can ride unencumbered. I could dig that!

Snack break

It was another lovely autumn day. We started every day somewhat bundled up - long pants, full fingered gloves, hats under our helmets, shedding layers and accessories over the course of the morning as it got warmer. Actually, I didn't wear long pants - rather, I wore cycling leg warmers, which are great (easy to take on and off to convert shorts to long pants) but are always sized for people with big cyclist legs. On a skinny guy like me they tend to fall down after a while unless the legs of my cycling shorts are really tight. I think I need garters. 😮

Pretty scenery!

The ride got prettier as we got further into rural areas, and we began to see some nice fall colors. True to form, we stopped plenty of times, including quick snack breaks and a long lunch break at a park pavilion in Connellsville. We had paid for the Bright Morning Inn to provide us with bag lunches and so we were well fed with sandwiches, vegetables, apples, and chips. We also spread out, sometimes riding together, sometimes apart. Gail and I are both moderate in speed, though I am a tortoise (just ride steadily along) while she is a hare (rides fast, then stops). Chris is the monster cyclist of the bunch, able to chase us down with ease no matter how far ahead we get. I hate natural athletes.

Photos of the shabby cabin

Our destination for the day was Ohiopyle, PA, a town that's a hub of outdoors activity in the area. We expected it to be a little more thriving than the the other towns we passed, but in fact it was pretty dead. Our lodging was a "rustic cabin" at the "Ohiopyle Lodge", which Gail had booked expecting it to be a quaint log cabin in the national park. It actually turned out to be a pre-fab building with all the charm of a storage shed. Outside our front door was an old pop-up camper which had been turned into a storage shed - redneck recycling. Inside, it was decorated in a style I'll call out-of-date rustic, with wood paneling and hunting/fishing decor. All three of us were staying together - the place had two bedrooms, though mine was windowless. Still, while it was shabby it was clean - my compulsive sanitizing wipe-down didn't turn up any dirt, and the beds were cheap but seemingly new mattresses, comfortable enough for a night.

Our dinner choices were limited to the Falls Market (greasy spoon - order at the window and eat outside), the Ohiopyle Bakery and Sandwich Shop (ditto), and pizza. We opted for the first, figuring we'd save pizza for some time when we rolled into a town and found nothing else to eat (it seems every town, no matter how desolate, has a pizza place). I got a black bean burger, which turned out to be pretty tasty. That evening was the Vice Presidential debate. Our shabby cabin didn't have Wifi, but we noted that the Falls Market had Wifi that reached outside - we figured if worst came to worst we could walk back over and stream the debate using their Wifi. Gail went into the market itself and got some breakfast food; Chris and I made plans to get breakfast at the Bakery (Chris also envisioned getting a fancy coffee at a coffee place in town called the Bittersweet Cafe, but it turned out to have closed for the season). 

After dinner we went back to the shabby cabin. Chris and I went out in search of beer, which we found a short walk away across the Yough at a place called the Falls Cafe. When we walked in we both got the feeling that everyone turned and looked at us, like in the barroom scene in a Western - was it that we were strangers? Old men suspected of having wandered away from the home? Had they never seen Jews before? Anyway, we managed to buy beer. Unlike the Trailside Inn in West Newton, which sold single beers to take out, this place sold only six-packs, but you could mix and match. We bought two IPAs (for me), two ales (for Chris), and two sours (for Gail, who had repeatedly said that she wasn't interested in a beer, but we had to fill out the six-pack). 

Back at the cabin I popped an IPA and Chris, in a moment of ADD, opened the other IPA when he meant to be opening a sour for Gail (who had acquiesced to having one). Chris and I did manage to watch the debate by sitting outside at a picnic table (there was no cell reception in the cabin) and hooking my iPad to his phone as an Xfinity hotspot - but because the screen was small we completely missed the appearance of the now-famous fly!

Watching the debate

I slept well in my windowless room. To avoid tomb-like darkness, I slept with the closet light on (which required harvesting a bulb from the bedside lamp to put into the fixture in the closet, which had a blown bulb - an old-fashioned incandescent, to give you an idea of how long it had been since the bulb blew.

 Day 4: Thursday, 10/8 (43 mi again) 

By the third day of riding I woke up with a little feeling of, "not another day of riding!" but it turned out to be probably the best day of the trip. Chris and I walked over and got breakfast from the other walk-up window at the Bakery (the very same place Valerie and I had eaten at several years ago on our trip to Fallingwater, which is just outside of Ohiopyle - Ted ate there too on his trip) which Gail had breakfast at home. Good egg sandwich. The guy was nice enough to brew decaf for us, even though I doubt he sold any of the rest of the pot.  

As usual we got rolling 9-ish, saying goodbye to the shabby cabin. The GAP continues to follow the Youghiogheny River in this section, and the scenery is really pretty - small rapids in the river, some decent views, more high trestle bridges, enhanced by more intense fall foliage. The first day of riding we made almost no stops; the second day we made a lot of stops so that somehow it took us seven hours to ride 40 miles. On day three we pledged to plot a middle course, not being hesitant to stop but trying to make a little better time. 

One problem we had was that we had no planned lunch. We still had sufficient snack foods and some tuna packs if we had to be self-sufficient, but we really preferred to get lunch. Gail and Chris had different recollections from their previous trip - Chris remembered there having been restaurants in the town of Rockwood, which we'd hit around lunchtime, while Gail did not. We decided to stop in the town of Confluence along the way to see if they had any provisions but there was nothing - nothing - open in that town. Looking at the map now, it appears that a little further from the trail there's a grocery store, but we didn't venture that far.

A little lost in Confluence

The trail takes a funny bend through Confluence and we wound up having to hunt around a little to find the continuation of the trail. Once we did, it was smooth sailing - as I mentioned, through some really nice terrain. I knew Ted had commando camped at least one time along the GAP during his DC to Pittsburgh hike and so I made a little game of looking for place where someone could make covertly camp without it being too obvious from the trail. 

Some really pretty scenery along the trail

More scenery

Navigating an obstacle

We pulled into Rockwood at lunchtime to find it too was pretty devoid of commerce. The promising-sounding Rock City Cafe wasn't open, so we rode downhill (knowing we'd have to schlep back up), past the "For God and Country - Vote Trump!" signs complete with red, white and blue Jesus, and came upon the Hometown pizza shop, which also seems to serve as the town's laundromat, car was and junk shop. At this point Gail was anxious for lunch and so I said, "let's just order a pizza and we'll eat it in the parking lot if we have to" - which is exactly what we did. They made a decent veggie pizza (or maybe we were just hungry) and we indeed parked our butts in the middle of the lot (there were no other pizza, laundry, car wash or junk shop customers using the lot) and had a wonderful lunch of pizza and soda. After lunch we trekked back up the hill to the trail and continued on.

Parking lot pizza

Pretty colors in Rockwood

Inside the pizza place/laundromat/junk shop

Near the end of the day my left hand really started to hurt. My hands always go numb on long rides (a common problem), but this was different - real pain. I think i must have been compressing a nerve or something. As the ride went on I had to constantly shift hand positions and did a lot of one-handed riding, which slowed me down. Riding in weird positions also made my right trapezius start to seize up and so I had pain on both the left and right sides. I had anticipated other aches that never really came - legs, saddle, but not this! Fortunately, we had only a few miles to go and I was able to limp the rest of the way to Meyersdale. 

When we grouped up Meyersdale I told Gail and Chris what about the pain I had been going through at which point Chris said that Gail get same thing and that he knows how to give a shoulder massage to relieve it, at which point he started to approach me as if he was going to rub my shoulders. A combination of body defensiveness, COVID defensiveness and a little concern that Chris might not be thinking straight because of some non-prescription medication he had taken earlier kicked in and I told him "no". He kept approaching and I told him no a few more times, finally shouting at him to stop, which startled and actually stopped him. This was our one awkward, contentious moment on the whole trip - as I mentioned earlier, Gail and Chris may nag each other a little to mutually manage each other's ADD tendencies, but they are overall very mellow traveling companions. 

Our B&B in Meyersdale, Yoder's Guest House, was the most luxurious of our accommodations on the trip. Their bike shed is like a fully equipped repair shop, and the rooms and common spaces were lovely. The owner said that they've been doing good business but (fortunately for us, unfortunately for him) the place was fairly empty - I think only 2 or three other rooms were occupied. My room was on the top floor, so I schlepped my stuff up two flights and immediately headed for a hot shower, after which I felt much better.

Meyersdale is yet another town that shows evidence of past affluence but which has clearly fallen on somewhat bad times. Our B&B, originally the home and office of a prosperous local doctor, was quite fancy and large. Up the hill, sat the yet larger and fancier Levi Deal mansion, also run as a B&B. To give you an idea of property values in the area, Levi Deal, which deserves the "mansion" name, sold a few years ago - fully furnished as a turnkey B&B operation, for $570K. 

More scenery

Our dinner choices in Meyersdale were very limited. What was said to be the best restaurant in town was closed due to a family wedding, which left us with the "diner", another walk-up window offering an array of fired foods (the "fried trio" of shrimp, chicken and potatoes seemed to be popular), the pizza/sub shop - we went in, saw that no one was wearing masks, and walked right out again, Subway, and Sheetz. We would up getting sandwiches from Sheetz, which we ate on the inn's front porch. Gail and Chris also indulged their passion for Sheetz hard-boiled eggs. The only place in town to get alcohol was the pizza/sub/COVID shop we had fled, but fortunately we we carrying leftovers from the six-pack we had bought in Ohiopyle, which we pulled out to have with dinner.

Peafowl along the trail

Day 45: Friday, 10/9 (43 mi again) 

Breakfast at Yoder's was our one indoor meal of the trip - but it seemed pretty low risk, given that we were the only ones in the dining room. I think all of these places normally would have a more extensive breakfast buffet, but like the Residence Inn's yogurt, they've switched to more limited table service breakfasts due to COVID. Still, it was good and after eating we eagerly got under way for our final - and mostly downhill - day.

The elevation profile of the GAP trail looks like this:

We had just spent three days riding up the long uphill from the righthand side of the figure and were looking forward to cresting the eastern continental divide and zooming downhill. I have to say, the scale of the map distorts the severity of the elevation profile since you've got 150 miles on the X axis and maybe 1,500 feet on the Y, but still, after constant pedaling with no chance to coast for three days the feeling of rolling downhill was great! I think that you could probable coast the 20-ish miles from the divide to Cumberland, but with the gravel surface you'd be going pretty slowly, so we still pedaled. I put on some upbeat music (Turkuaz) and really took off. We kept passing each other over as the miles went on, smiling all the way. I was also being careful not to lean too heavily on the bars, wanting to avoid the pain I had felt the previous day - which I mostly managed to keep at bay.

At the Eastern Continental Divide

Crossing the Mason-Dixon line

About 12 miles from the end I stopped to pee. Chris caught up with me and stopped too. I took off and shortly thereafter noticed the disheartening feeling of a tire going flat. Yup, my rear tire had gone flat. I was so ticked off that I didn't even notice Chris as he went by - I might have flagged him down. Fortunately, I had what I needed to do the repair. Unfortunately, it was a narrow section of the trail so I was kind of half on / half off the trail as I worked on my bike. 

Uh, oh!

I texted Gail and Chris to let them know what had happened. They waited for me at about Mile 2 and we rolled into Cumberland together, triumphant at having completed our ride. The Cumberland terminus of the trail is a little confusing and we once again got mildly fahrblunget but eventually found our way back to the start. Chris and I went back into Cumberland Trail Connection to look at the GAP swag - jerseys, stickers, etc. (didn't buy anything). Meanwhile, Gail went around the corner where she found a winery tasting room - she texted us to come over and join her for wine tasting! I didn't have any wine, but I did try some cheese and we sat (outdoors) and reveled in our successful trip. Maryland wine must have improved over the years, as Gail bought a bunch of bottles!

After a while we loaded up our stuff and got underway. They had a long drive back to coastal Delaware. Gail had eaten cheese and cracker and Chris had gotten ice cream, but other than a few little pieces of cheese I hadn't eaten anything so I sought out a restaurant in town where I order (window service, again) a veggie wrap and what I really craved - a milkshake - which I downed at a park table nearby. After days of chilly fall weather it was surprisingly warm in Cumberland; I was glad to have my cold drink as I sat in the sun. Then it was off to home - arriving as usual from my trips with bags of dirty, smelly clothes, but being atypically clean (my trips usually involve camping - though I could get used to this B&B thing!).

Would I do this trip again? Absolutely! Though we did say that we would consider the opposite direction - maybe it would be worth toughing it out up 20 miles of 1.5% grade (in contrast, my house sits on about a 7% grade and just past the mailbox at the corner the street hits 14% ... values courtesy of Strava) to get the slight downhill push of 0.75% for 130 miles. 

*MAMIL = Middle Aged Man in Lycra  

One of many bridges along the trail

One of many tunnels along the trail

Allegheny Kayaking Part 3

 

Day 6 - Tues 9/15

We were breaking camp and heading back to Willow Bay and had agreed to get on the water “butts in boats (BIB)” by 8:30, even though we knew that would mean an early and chilly start after a cold night. Knowing that it takes time to break camp and pack up, I woke up a little before 6 AM and well before sunrise started packing things in my tent by lantern light: sleeping bag, camping cot, etc. Once I heard Rob moving around I got out of my tent to find it was quite crisp - maybe not the mid-30’s the forecast had called for, but cold enough that I had to keep pausing to warm my hands up while I worked.

I packed and ate breakfast at the same time, taking a break from shoving stuff into dry bags every once in a while to grab handfuls of granola and dried blueberries and sip coffee. Time was growing short to hit the 8:30 deadline and so I loaded everything into the kayak in a rushed, somewhat haphazard fashion. Even though I had used up four days worth of food, hurriedly crammed in as it was my stuff took up just as much space as before - but lo and behold, I was the first one packed and ready to go which never happens! There's a pretty established packing pecking order in terms of who gets their kayaks packed first, and if I had to place a bet, if there was a Kentucky Derby of kayak packing, my trifecta bet would be Tom, Jen and Suzanne, but in this case for once I was the one able to luxuriate on the beach whilst throwing impatient shade at everyone else while they fussed their gear into their boats. We wound up launching about 30 minutes later than planned, and it was a very satisfied thirty minutes for me.

Packing boats

Jen

Rob

Suzanne

Bela

When we (finally!) launched it it was still quite cool and the combination of cool air and warm water created lovely wisps of fog all along the reservoir. The paddle back was uneventful. Suzanne, Tom and Rob crossed the reservoir to check out another campground, while Bela, Jen and I took a more direct route back. We mostly  remained in visual contact and were in touch by radio, including some gentle teasing - I would hail them as “Primary kayak group calling Backup kayak group” and so on.

Our takeout at Willow Bay was less than a mile from the NY/PA border and so just for spite (remember, the whole impetus for this destination was NY’s COVID-related travel ban, which put the kibosh on our Adirondack plans) we intentionally overshot Willow Bay paddled just across the border into New York before turning around and heading for the marina. Take that, NY swine! We entered your state anyway! 

Someone at Willow Bay had a bad night 

After unpacking the boats and loading the cars we each went our own ways with our own plans, knowing we’d meet up again later at Black Moshannon park, our next campsite. Suzanne went to check out Kinzua Bridge park. After being disappointed when it turned out the marina restaurant was closed some of the group still had unsatisfied burger cravings - Rob went back into Bradford and got a burger at Kabobs at the Option. I was more focused on cleanliness than on burgers and so had the idea of grabbing a shower at the Willow Bay campground before hitting the road. Bela liked that idea and decided to do the same and when I got to the bath house he was already there, whistling his way through a glorious hot shower. He called out to me from the shower stall that the shower ran for two minutes before shutting off - enough time to soap up on the first push of the water button, and rinse off in the second. I rolled my eyes a little at having someone mansplain to me how to take a shower - but getting clean felt so good that I couldn’t be upset about it. I showered, shaved, my gear around in my car then headed on my way.

As I already mentioned, I was not one of the ones with a burger craving and what food cravings I did have were going to be satisfied by my dinner plans (more on this in a bit) and so for lunch I was perfectly satisfied with a sandwich from Sheetz. When I pulled in I first gassed up the car, which gave me an opportunity to scope out the mask-wearing compliance of the customers (remember, we were deep in Trump country). Only once I had satisfied myself that it was safe enough did I go in and order a grilled chicken sandwich (which was surprisingly good!). Sheetz has outdoor tables but they were closed off due to COVID, so I ate in the car in the parking lot. V called while I was there, which was good timing, since it meant I could talk to her without cell phone dropouts and I could really focus on the call. So good to hear from her! How did she know the perfect time to call me?

As to food cravings, those who know me know that I am a lover of pizza above all else. While others were craving burgers, my camping fantasy was more like drone delivery to the campsite of a couple of New York style pizza slices. In fact, my pizza scheming had started at the very outset of the trip. During the drive to Bradford it had occurred to me that, as we were going to be rolling into Black Moshannon State Park in the late afternoon, it could make sense to pick up dinner in town on the way in rather than having to worry about cooking dinner dinner on top of making camp. On the way to the reservoir at the beginning of the trip I kept my eyes open as I drove through Philipsburg (the closest town to Black Moshannon) and spotted Sarina’s, an Italian restaurant/pizza place just up the road from the town’s supermarket, another resupply destination. When I passed back through the town I first made a quick stop at the supermarket (poor mask compliance! I was outta there as quickly as possible!) then ordered myself a veggie pizza at Sarina’s. I was encouraged by the counter guy’s Italian accent. Western PA has a big Italian population, and despite being in a small town I figured had a good shot at an at least passable pie.

I got to enjoy the delicious smell of my fresh pizza on the drive to the campground, but I didn’t get to taste it right away. First came setting up camp, including a Really Big Deal about who was in which campsite. We had enough campsites for everyone - in fact, we had basically reserved a whole cul-de-sac and so had almost our own little village - but when Rob arrived he pulled into a campsite without thinking about the fact that  it wasn’t the one Suzanne had assigned to him, which had a cascading effect: since Rob was in my assigned campsite, I pulled into the one across the way, which had been assigned to Tom, and so on. It really didn't matter, as all of the campsites were identical and as I said, we had privacy in our little cul-de-sac, and eventually everyone got on board with the fact that it was OK to deviate from the arbitrary site assignments Suzanne had made before the trip. 

After we all got our campsites set up we segued into happy hour. By the time I got to eating my pizza it was three hours old and no longer hot, but still, eating under cover of darkness I reveled in my sybaritic, very non-campingy indulgence while I imagined the others in the group slurping spartan camping food - gooey Mountain House meals or perhaps an assortment of jerkies. And yes, Sarina’s pizza turned out to be pretty good. I was glad I had ordered the medium rather than the personal size and I stowed the leftover slices in my cooler for the next day.

Eating pizza under cover of darkness

When I had spoken with Valerie at my Sheetz stop I had reassured her that connectivity would be much better during the car camping part of the trip and that we’d be able to talk every day. Wouldn’t you know it, though, the campground was a cellular dead zone and so after dinner (have I mentioned that it was pizza? It was pizza!) I drove out of the campground in search of phone service. I finally found signal about five miles back towards Philipsburg where I pulled off onto a side road to have a place to sit and talk. A very dark, pitch black, creepy place to talk.  But I did get through to Valerie, and no crazed axe murder materialized out of the dark, so - mission accomplished!

Day 7 - Weds, 9/16

Oh, the luxuries of car camping! For the car camping portion of our trip I slept in my nice big tent and added a mattress pad on top of my cot, which made it feel like the most comfortable bed on earth. I slept well. And we had running water, and a sink to wash dishes, and real bathrooms and showers (for those who dared to venture into them).

We started the morning slowly, but at some point decided we had lazed around enough and made a plan to hit the road and go paddling. We all decided on a time to leave, and as I was finishing getting ready - maybe two minutes before our agreed upon departure time, I looked up to see everyone else rolling out of the campground in a convoy. That left me pretty pissed off - that the group would leave without me. I briefly considered just packing up and heading home right then and there. I had been having enough trouble trying to manage the stress I was absorbing during my calls home and from the group’s Really Big Deals and the temptation was there to just bag it. But I got control over my disappointment and, noting that I was exactly on time as I pulled out of my campsite, found Suzanne stopped at the campground dumpster. Suzanne told me that Jen had waited there too but was now off somewhere trying to find me, and only Rob, Tom and Bela had bolted to the launch. Jen, Suzanne and I regrouped and headed out, Jen (whose phone battery was dead) following the two of us who had GPS.

We had expected Bald Eagle State Park to be the filler of our trip - a small and possibly very busy recreational lake that we chose just to have someplace to paddle to fill out the the week, but we were pleasantly surprised to be wrong. It turned out to be a gorgeous lake, and not very crowded at all (we suspect that it’s very different during the summer - as evidenced by the fact that the park’s web site instructs boaters to circle the lake counterclockwise. If they have to control direction like it’s an ice skating rink, then that means there are a lot of boats out there!).

By the dam at one end of the lake

Out on the lake

We had a very nice outing. It was another cool morning and so we started once again with pretty, wispy fog over the lake with the day transforming into warm and sunny weather as we got into afternoon.  We covered about nine miles and took a nice lunch break at one of the other boat launches (home to a bathroom so foul that I just peed out back rather than going inside). We had thought Bald Eagle offered only a day’s worth of kayaking, but we covered less than half of it, so we decided to return the next day, superseding our previous - and somewhat tenuous - idea of kayaking the Susquehanna River.

Special thanks to Rob for this great photo of me

I’ve mentioned that we were deep in Trump country and I stopped at an intersection on the way back to take a picture of a particularly garish pro-Trump display, involving an old pickup truck painted red, white and blue and a likeness of the man himself on the window that made it look as if he was sitting in the passenger seat. While I was there a woman pulled up at the stop sign and said out the window of her car, “I can’t believe you’re taking a picture of that monster” - a brave thing to say deep in Trump territory. She was thrilled to discover that I was taking the picture not out of admiration but to show the folks back home in my Blue bubble the level of enthusiasm there is for the man out in western PA.

MAGA Display

Back at camp I slipped my leftover pizza out of the cooler and let it warm up a little bit while we gathered for happy hour. I didn’t try to actually heat the up because that would have been tough to do over my little stove and besides, cold pizza is a perfectly fine meal - certainly better than the dehydrated science experiments I brought with me to the first part of our trip. We had a nice campfire. I had spoken with Valerie while I was driving back from Bald Eagle lake and so I, feeling a little tipsy, decided not to venture out on the dark country roads in search of cell service.

Day 8 - Thurs 9/17

Having the campground amenities of a bath house was a mixed bag. Sure, we all loved the idea of a shower and running water, but each trip into the bathroom was a roll of the dice (a “crapshoot”, if you prefer). You never knew what maskless Pennsylvania hillbilly might stroll in while you were in there and COVID up the place. Wednesday night I was heading for the bathroom to get washed up when I saw examples of said maskless hillbillies enter the bathhouse. Instead of going inside I went around the building looking for a campground map - something showing where there might be another bathhouse. Instead, I discovered something better - a single user handicapped bathroom in the back of the building. Yup, go in there, lock the door and you have your own toilet, sink and shower, and zero chance of being joined by COVID-spewing hillbillies. Having a semi-private bathroom joined pizza on my list of secret pleasures at Black Moshannon State Park.

Pennsylvania is not too strict about masks - they're "encouraged" but not required

While I am tempted to describe Thursday’s activities as “stuff I had to get over with before I could go back and take a shower in my private bathroom”, in fact they were much more. We returned to Bald Eagle State Park (about a 40 minute drive), passing along the way signs for fresh eggs and milk along with once again viewing the garish Trump pickup truck display. We launched from a different point on the lake and explored the part we had missed the previous day, including exploring up Bullitt Run, which is a (the?) source of water for the lake. The water in the run was clear cool and like many such streams, the place teemed with wildlife. Herons, eagles, mergansers, woodpeckers, and even a swimming squirrel (I hadn’t known that squirrels could swim!). Oh, and of course each day we saw at least one bald angle - I mean, the park had to live up to its name, didn’t it? Again, this was our second day of kayaking at what we thought was going to be a lackluster one day lake - and it turned out to be one of the most enjoyable outings of the whole trip, offering exploration up the stream, wildlife, poking around a marina, and scenic open lake paddling. We ended on a high note, for sure.

Lunch break

The swimming squirrel

When we got back to our put-in we ran across a group we thought we had spotted the prior day - a group a grey-haired ladies who were unloading a bunch of short (rec) kayaks from a rented cargo van. At first I thought it was an outfitter dropping people off, but chatted with them (well, I didn’t, since chatting is not one of my strong suits - but others did) and it turns out they’re like us from a parallel universe. They’re a group of friends who do a trip every year the same week we do ours (this is their twelfth year). It’s fun to discover other people out there doing the same crazy stuff we do.

 Anyway, after paddling it was back to the campsite where I indulged in a secret shower. I had actually shared the existence of the bathroom with Suzanne, who like me was pretty paranoid about the bathrooms - but she wound up not using it. I could smell that someone else had been in there (perfume smell) not too long prior, but that still beat coming face to face with COVID Cletus in the main restroom.

Then it was another simple dinner. Alas, I was out of pizza so I made some nice low sodium minestrone, which I enhanced with TVP and mushrooms. I once again drove out to call Valerie and while I was out picked up some wood for a final campfire.

Final campfire

Friday we all just woke up and broke camp. I knew I wouldn’t be the first one out (that’s always Tall Tom) but I was working hard to pack quickly and so I was surprised when Rob was packed up and ready to go before I was - another trifecta bet I wouldn't have hit. As people left we all said goodbye and before I got on the road I went around and said my final goodbyes to Suzanne, Jen and Bela then headed home, stopping at the Wegman’s in Gaithersburg to pick up a challah and honey cake for Rose Hashonah, which was imminently about to begin at sundown on Friday. I got the car unpacked and myself cleaned up just in time to ... not go to religious services, since they had been cancelled because of COVID. But we did watch the online content the synagogue had put together, which was very nice. So I had a very nice end to the year 5780 rolling into a nice start for 5781.