C&O Canal tow path to the Capital!

Once we had restocked in Cumberland at the Farmers market and the largest grocery store that we had been to to date, we waved goodbye to the Great Allegany Passage and said hello to the C&O Canal tow path.  We had received several warnings about the tow path.  One from an injured vet named John while camping in Terra Haute about the snakes and hobos, one in West Virginia from Harry about the unkempt trail surface and heavily iodine flavored water, and another earlier that day from a relatively ill equipped bike traveler (whom we dubbed Tony the Tither) about how terrible and pot holey it was.  After a quick perusal of the map, we discovered that the trail had free camping about every 10 miles and we set on our way.

The entrance was grand, passing by an old canal barge on a long sweeping bike and pedestrian bridge.  This infrastructure quickly gave way to an unrelentingly muddy and root traversed path.  Within minutes our bikes were entirely covered in a fine clayey mud.
 

The contrast between the two connecting paths, the C&O being a national park, could not have been anymore distinct.  We now spent much of our energy, saved from hills and dealing with traffic, pushing through mud, dodging rocks and roots.  As the miles slowly wore on and the fun of riding in the mud wore off, we began to question if riding the trail was actually any better than riding on the highways. Several hours later, after taking a beating on the trail, Lauren getting a flat tire, and drinking the hand pumped iodine-laden water  (which we decided tasted and looked of blood), we left the trail for a six mile bit of paved respite.  Within 1 minute of being on the narrow highway in full sun, something that we hadn't experienced in days, we began sweating profusely out of every pore in our bodies.  We ground up the steep hills with high speed traffic passing just a foot to our left, causing us all to simultaneously and independently decide that the trail had to be better than this.

When we crossed over our beautiful muddy passage again we made a slight detour to "Wild and Wonderful" West Virginia for some good old fashioned convenience store ice water and air conditioning.  We ended up staying until we actually became too cold to be comfortable and we continued on.

The first obstacle upon returning to the trail was the Paw Paw tunnel, a 3,118 foot long tunnel.  Unlike the well lit, wide path of the GAP's Big Savage tTunnel that we encountered the day before, though of similar length, the Paw Paw tunnel has only a small bumpy path adjacent to the canal, with absolutely no light.  We were grateful for our powerful generator lights that guided us past the many dips and bumps in the path.

We still had many miles to go, and the going was slow. We arrived to our intended campground around nightfall with an impending thunderstorm on the horizon. Two men had already set up camp at this free camp spot and we immediately introduced ourselves and began setting up our tents and weatherproofing our lives.

Within the first minute of conversation with Shane and Thomas, Lauren confessed to feeling entirely uncomfortable with camping here. It was one of those moments where you feel entirely trapped in a situation--it's getting dark, it's about to thunder and lightning all around us, we're hungry, and the next possible camp option is ten miles up the trail. So stay we did, and it was INTERESTING, to say the least.

Where to begin with this story has been hanging over us for almost two weeks now, so here it goes:

Shane--his tent is a lean to, he rides a crappy recumbent with a BOB trailer on the muddiest trail full of potholes.

Thomas--his tent is holey and from Walmart, he doesn't ride the childs bike that his stuff is ducktaped to, he pushes it.

Both met eachother hours earlier and now are in the middle of sharing two fifths of cheap rum.

They were obsessed with our avocados (later, in the middle of the night, they ate them after stabbing open a can of beans).

It begins pouring. Lauren won't come out of the tent, not even to pee. Mud everywhere. Shane and Thomas ranting about white supremacy.  Lauren wanting to barf at their conversation. Drunken Yelling. Animal noises all night. Thomas screaming about wanting to spill someones guts. Thomas knifing himself out of his tent. Knocking on ours (this actually was reasurring that he wasn't going to knife into our tent).

Reid and I thinking about how we would defend ourselves and Lauren. Reid's only weapon being his bike pump, which he held to his chest while wearing his helmet to bed (his only flashlight straps to his helmet). This is my favorite image of the whole night: Reid, lying on his sleeping mat, holding a bicycle pump, wearing his helmet...not funny at two in the morning, but priceless at 2pm the next day when all is well.

It was a horrible, sleepless evening. We will never put ourselves in such an uncomfortable situation again, even if it is thunderstorming.

So, that was our first night spent on the C&O. The next morning, Thomas had finally come back from his schizophrenic drunken state, and was back to being a bum with some mental troubles. He stood over his mangled tent with broken poles wondering what had happened, and all we could do was shake our heads thinking, "NO WAY does this guy not no that he sawed himself out of his tent?"

He asked Reid, "Did it rain?"

Did it rain? It POURED ALL NIGHT. 

At this point, we realized how far gone he must have been the night before, having no memory of his rage and violent behavior.

We booked it out of that campground for the sanity of civilization, and someone else to cook us breakfast. Sitting around a local Rockport diner, we processed our sleepless night, laughing, but confessing how scared we all were.

The days ride began much later due to the previous night's activities, but it was a great ride and fabulous day. We jumped off rocks into the Potomac, we went on a fabulous detour through Maryland countryside cutting 7 miles out of our route, and that evening, we camped with some sane bike tourists.

We woke the next morning giddy with the overwhelming sensation of an approaching finish line. With only 62 miles to Washington D.C., the whole  day felt surreal. We ate oatmeal and rode fast, not because we had to hurry, but because we had energy. It felt great.

With every mile closer to D.C. the trail became more populated. We stopped at the Great Falls on the Potomac with only 14 miles to go. For being so close to a giant metropolitan area, this natural wonder of rock gorges and waterfalls entirely impressed us.

And fourteen miles later, the trail popped us out into Georgetown, D.C. along the waterfront. It's a shocking way to enter a city--279 miles of trail, no cars, no city noise, and then BOOM, there you are, next to the Lincoln Memorial.

We played in the water feature on the waterfront, sipped smoothies, and made PB&J sandwiches on the lawn. After lounging for a couple hours, soaking in our accomplishment, we rode over to the memorials and took ceremonious photographs next to the monuments that represent the country we just pedaled across.

We stayed amidst the crowds till 8, before catching the metro to Lauren's dear old friend George's house (it's actually his lovely mom's house, Susan) in McLean, VA. We made dinner all together, relished in the air conditioning, and found rest.