Many of you may have been following our journey on instagram and facebook. There was just so much to document, that I wanted to wrap it up in a narrative to get a deeper depiction of what happened.
To recap - the plan was to do a four day, three night bike tour along the C&O Canal Trail. We started our trip in Hancock Maryland and planned to bike along the trail all the way to my sister-in-law's house in Silver Spring, Maryland. Based on our previous tour - we wanted to cover about 30 miles each day.
Our group in the parking lot of America's Best Value Inn. Five Adults. Six kids aged 10 years to 10 months. Heavy bikes. My favorite part is George with the "spirit fingers"
Prior to the trip, I had done (what I considered) exhaustive research on the trail. I interviewed internet strangers, stalked people on instagram through hashtag searches, and pestered a couple of co-workers who had biked the trail. I thought we were prepared for the conditions. In some ways yes... but in others not quite.
Ashley expertly handling the singletrack on day 1.
For whatever reason - I was under the impression that the trail was mostly a dirt path, or crushed gravel, similar to what we had encountered in our travels in Michigan and Illinois. In some stretches it was, but more often than not it was, what would be considered by most bicyclists "singletrack." Mind, it wasn't just one dirt trail, but more often than not it was two parallel dirt paths each about a foot and a half wide. This was ok for some in our party, but a couple of us were pulling trailers too wide to fit in the ruts so it slowed us down a bit.
Spirits high on day 1. With 6 kids, rest stops and potty breaks are a frequent occurence.
About nine miles in, on our very first day - my sweet niece Lane, the ringleader of the children who also completed our 2013 (119 miles!) as an eight year old, suffered a knee injury. It was devastating to Lane, and everyone else. Lane and her mother had to prematurely end the trip. The whole situation was so depressing for so many reasons, and obviously took the wind out of our sails substantially. The entire episode of getting Lane to safety, back tracking, making alternate plans, took about 4 hours. From that point on, many of us needed to adapt and work harder than we may have previously thought.
With very heavy hearts... we carried on. Not exactly sure how far we'd get the first night, the stop also interrupted our planned meal stops. It was warm, and humid, meaning we were drinking a lot of water. One of the nice things about the C&O is that in most parts, water is pretty abundant.
Earning our water. Ed with his racoon "NightKill" who decided he wanted to join his fellow racoon brethren and now permanently resides on the C&O
But you do have to earn the water. Wells and pumps are at most camp spots and are located about every 5-7 miles along the path. The wells are treated with iodine so the water does come out looking a bit brown, but the taste is certainly tolerable. It's cold, so it's got that going for it. We brought a lot of electrolyte tablets and powders which I'm not sure worked or not, nor did they really mask the taste. But, I'd probably buy them again.
Beautiful vistas abound - this water feature is called a "weir."
the littlest bike-tourer this side of the Mason Dixon line. Jim was an absolute angel on the trip. You can bike tour with small children!
We had planned to get an early lunch/late dinner in Williamsport - and then bike another five miles to our camp spot. As fate and flexibility dictated, we ended up camping about 2 miles shy of Williamsport. I biked into town and got dinner (pizza, salad, diet pepsi (no coke!) and felt like an absolute hero when I pulled into camp!
after a long first day, roasting marshmallows took the edge off (while the adults enjoyed a swig or two of some diet beverages).
the first of many frogs/toads found on the trip. Jim Gaffigan absolutely nailed it when he said that "for kids, cousins are like celebrities"
After a decent night's sleep - spirits were pretty good as we made our way into town. We decided to treat ourselves to a McDonalds breakfast, (one of our favorite family bike touring traditions). It was awesome. We took over an entire wing of the the restaurant and several spaces in the parking lot. Immediately we set up shop, charging phones, filling up water bottles, and filling up the kids so that we could get some decent mileage under our belt.
As luck would have it, our visit to McDonalds coincided with the local branch also having a corporate visit. All hands were on deck there, and nothing went unnoticed. Not in a bad way, there were just people everywhere. At one point, I overheard this amusing exchange:
Employee - "I think there's a homeless person in the bathroom"
Manager - "Really?"
Employee - "Yes. (gestures to our bikes outside) - there's her cart"
While we were wrapping up, a sweet old man came up to us and said, "I just think it's so wonderful what you guys are doing. Traveling with these young kids. We saw you guys come into town and I knew it was you on bikes when you came into the store."
It was really sweet - and honestly, those kind words serve as an additional fuel source as doubt and other negative thoughts creep into your mind when things get hard and you ask yourself why you are doing this.
Pit stop. The kids found a miniscule frog and captured him in an old salad container. Poor guy. Only kept him through one stretch and let him go the next stop
We continued on and I thought that we had overcome our "Everest." Little did I know how a slight change in weather could add a whole different obstacle to our journey.
Let me say, that prior to this we had encountered "some" mud on the trail and while it did slow you down occasionally, it never was a real obstacle. But then, the heavens opened up and dumped on us and the trail.
Ed weathered the storm with a paper thin poncho and a beach towel
Jim stayed the most dry of all of us - in his little penthouse/trailer - except for his poor feet. Due to our elaborate trailer set up it caused his feet to peek out which normally is fine, until it gets really muddy. REALLY. MUDDY.
After the storm had passed, we plodded a couple of more miles and made it to Sheperdstown, West Virginia. Upon the recommendation of some fellow bike tourers, we headed for the Blue Moon Cafe. I don't remember what I had, probably a burger. But between Lane's accident, plodding through La Brea Tar Pit -esque mud, being cold/hungry/dirty tired, being behind schedule, and then getting "shushed" by some nasty old hag in the restaurant (sorry, wound is still fresh) because of our kids - I was really in the depths of despair.
We audibled yet again, and decided to stay in a motel as opposed to getting back on the bikes and trying to get to the nearest campsite. I'll tell you, being flexible is the name of the game with family bike touring. The motel ended up being a wise decision on several fronts. They let us bring ALL of our bike stuff inside, which was nice. We got clean, and it was also right next to a dairy queen - so a blizzard sure helped morale after that day.
As luck would have it, it also stormed all night the second night. Big time thunderstorm and lighting. As we cuddled in our artificially cool room, Ashley and I couldn't help but shudder at the thought of being in the tent while we were attacked by that storm. Could have been the tipping point.
Ashley and Ed gearing up for day three after a pretty decadent all you can eat continental breakfast
At this point in the trip, I think it's safe to say that my line of thought was much like Wesley as he and Buttercup were in the midst of the fire swamp. We had just discovered and survived the flame spud and lightning sand - painfully unaware of the rodent of unusual size I was about to encounter. But before the ROUS's...
My nephew Henry, "Don't mind if I do..."
My niece Charlotte, obviously pleased with her haul
Due to the rain - we just so happened to notice a road going parallel to the trail. We audibled yet again, consulted our iphones, and decided to take the the side roads for a little bit to avoid some mud. Seemed harmless enough.
George took this picture. Just as we were approaching Antietam.
The side road started off amazing. Beautiful vistas. Pastoral. Green. Just lovely. Then the hills came. Like an unstoppable rebel force. As I look back on my video and photo footage there are notable voids in the documentation when we encountered hills. No one really feels like documenting the struggle while you are in the middle of it. Suffice it to say - they were big. Not to mention, we were all hauling gear, kids, and their gear. I no longer have any sympathy for anyone who complains about hills until they try to pull it off (and we did) with kids. Suck it up.
After our brief foray into hill climbing with loaded family touring bikes, we decided to face the music (mud) and picked back up with the trail. There was this large gravel pit. The kids immediately ran to conquer it and I thought to myself, "this is a great picture, better grab the nice camera."
I go through my belongings. Gone. No where to be seen.
To continue the Princess Bride analogy, I think at this point I've wrestled the ROUS and now I'm arguing with Prince Humperdink about making a life in the Fire Swamp, but I digress...
Obviously I'm heartsick, and frustrated. At the time we bought it, it was an expensive camera. It had some nice pictures on it, but just the stupidity of losing it and the financial and personal loss, combined with all of our other hardships just immediately came into my mind. I was so disappointed.
I said a prayer, unloaded my bike, and went to climb back up the hill we had just conquered to go look for my camera. After praying, I did feel at peace like I would find it. I felt optimistic. I also felt good because I had taken all of my stuff off my bike so I felt like Lance Armstrong on my bike... with or without PED's - you make the call.
Long story short, I didn't find my camera (then, spoiler alert!) and came back to the group empty handed.
After our lunch stop in Brunswick. I'm smiling because I had just slammed a Red Bull and a Snickers
Can I just say (yes, you can say whatever you want David this is your blog) that everyone who we've told about this trip has marveled that we took our children on a trip of this magnitude. In retrospect, and omitting an unforeseeable injury - the children really were the least of our concerns. They were all so good. They were happy. They were with their favorite people in the world (not their parents, their cousins), they were outside, they were happy! Consoling or "babying" our children was not really part of this trip. Honestly, the adults needed more support and soothing than the children. We worked together flawlessly and I'm super grateful for that.
Teamwork was the name of the game. I can't imagine doing this trip without the group we did. Everyone played a crucial part. The third day, post lunch ride was rough. The sun and come out along with the humidity, and had turned the previous night's rain on the trail into some pretty thick mud. We had about 7 miles after lunch to get to our ideal campsite, and those were some intense miles.
We employed a similar tactic the third night as we did the first night. The group split up, and this time Ashley got to be the dinner-hero.
Ashley, coming through in the clutch. Long live front baskets and inner-tube bungees.
Having dinner while we set up camp. We actually shared this campsite with two other groups. It wasn't too bad, though I would've preferred to be alone. The pizza was devoured in a locust-like manner.
With bellies full of pizza, the festivities of our last night camping continued as Aunt Rachel led the kids in some sparkler-fun. Rachel was a total trip-saver, and we were so lucky to have her on the trip. When Lane and Serena had to bow out, Rachel took up the reigns and was a huge help. Very grateful for her.
Ashley and Jim enjoying the sunset. Jim also enjoying what I can only hope was not poison ivy. I had a nasty run in with it that came to bear a couple of days later.
Back to the kids for a minute. There was a lot of wildlife discovery, which the kids loved immensely. None more so than George and his penchant for amphibians. I'm not sure which I felt worse for, the animals he found or George as he was forced to prematurely say goodbye. He loved this frog so much he kissed it. He kissed the frog. For the life of me I cannot imagine what compelled him to do such a thing. I can only attribute it to Ashley's genes. I wanted nothing to do with it.
At about 5 in the morning, it started to rain. It rained pretty solidly for the next three hours or so. We waited for the rain to let up a bit before we packed up camp. Eventually, we just had to wait for a slight decrease in the intensity of rain because it didn't feel like it was going to let up.
The kids helped us the most by being in good moods, overall pleasant, and not fighting too much with each other. They weren't particularly helpful when it came to breaking camp. :)
We were faced with another big decision. Having just survived the mud (just barely), the thought of doing our longest day (mileage wise) on fresh mud seemed like too much for us. We made another game time decision, and opted for a reduction in mileage along county roads. We planned an alternate course and felt good about not having to battle the mud, or the miles.
We bike for a couple of miles, and said sayonara to the the C&O. As we left the trail, we were immediately reminded of what the terrain was like away from the river. Hilly. So hilly. It was never-ending. The roads that our route took us on weren't exactly ideal either. We were climbing some pretty big hills, with loaded bikes, with small children, with cars going 40 mph right next to us. They were low-volume roads, but did not have paved shoulders, so we were forced to share the road. Not ideal.
For the better part of the morning, we made a valiant effort at the topography and the traffic. But in the end, our nerves, and our legs got the best of us. We threw in the towel. We called in the rescue wagon. Serena came and picked up the kids, most of our gear, and Ashley and Rachel. Chris and I forged ahead.
After our group split up, it was just Chris and I to finish the trip. We had about 25-30 miles to go. Without the stress of worrying about our little ones on the busy roads, Chris and I made some really good time. It was a lot easier climbing the hills without pulling our gear, which made the descents a lot of fun. Stay tuned for some excellent GoPro footage.
Chris and I had one last pit stop - a little BBQ to grease the wheels and get us home. We cranked out the last 19 miles and joined up with the rest of the family.
Thinking back on this trip, there are a lot of things to dwell on. I could be tempted to focus on what went wrong, but when I think deeper about it what impresses me the most is how our group worked together. Everyone was really positive the entire time. We supported each other and cheered each other on. I'm proud of us for not giving up. For not giving into negativity and pessimism. We were rewarded with a very memorable experience that makes us a closer, stronger-knit family.
I loved this trip and can't wait to do another one. Two other quick things to mention, in conclusion.
I will be doing a more technical write up of logistics, planning, and gear, posted on my other blog.
I will also be putting together a movie compiled from the video footage I took during the trip. That will be circulated as well.
Ending on a good note - and part of the reason for the delay on posting this blog, was that my camera was found! A lovely person found it on the side of the road, noticed that there were pictures of a family doing a bike tour, and turned it into the rangers station. The first time I called they hadn't heard anything about a camera. But I found the local ranger station, and after a few voice mails and follow up calls - I was able to get the good news. I'm very grateful for that person. It also reminded me of this video from Casey Niestat.