THE LAST DAY, MAJOR DETOUR, BIG SAVAGE MOUNTAIN AND THE END OF THE RIDE
I awoke in the morning and stumbled to the showers. A hot shower on the trail feels like something special. Especially after two days of riding in the rain, covered in the grey dust of the limestone trail. I got dressed, signed the guest book and ate some granola bars for breakfast. 
I was almost out of them, but today was my last day on the trail and I still had ramen noodles, half a bag of rolls and a can of Vienna sausage left. I then packed up my now dry gear and put it on my bike and my back and refilled my water from the tap. I shut the light, put the key where I was told to put it, made sure the door was locked and closed it behind me. With its pedal still resting in my basket I started pushing the bicycle up hill.
I got to the garage/auto parts store and inquired about a nut that would fit my bike. The man behind the counter asked me to bring the bike into the garage and he would see what he had.
“Well son,” he said after looking at the bolt on which the pedal attaches to the bike, “it’s stripped.”
“Stripped?” I replied, thinking, oh-no I’m trapped, just thirty some miles from the end.
“But,” he said, “I can fix it with a locking washer. It won’t be super tight, but it won’t come off either.”
“Okay,” I said and the mechanic went to work. He was done fast.
“Three and a quarter buddy,” he said, “three dollars for the labor, a quarter for the nut.”
“Thank you very, very much,” I said as I paid the man. I was down to my last couple of bucks now, but was happy that I would be riding and no longer trapped.
I pushed my bike up the steep hill back to the railroad station. While there I photographed the Chessie caboose and the station. A group of five or so people was heading out towards the viaduct on recumbent bikes. The sky was cloudless and blue with sun drying up the rain. It was already starting to be a scorcher. I stripped off all my outer layers until I was just wearing a t-shirt and bike shorts. I was uncomfortable wearing the spandex, but it was better than wearing a pair of hiking pants over top of them.
In the summer of 2003 the Great Alleghany Passage was only complete between McKeesport and Meyersdale. You could see the railroad bed continuing off and around the bend across the street from the old station. But this was unfinished trail that was still railroad ballast and would kill the tires and no doubt the spokes of my bike. Then there was Big Savage tunnel. At three thousand two hundred and ninety-four feet long it measured the longest of the four tunnels between Connellsville and Cumberland. That summer the trail and tunnel between Meyersdale and the Mason Dixon line was under construction and closed. The alternative was a road detour. I descended the hill on my bike to start the days ride, destination, Cumberland.
I pedaled out of town on Cherry Street which becomes route 2006 and parallels both railroads; the abandoned Western Maryland and active CSX. As I rounded a curve a magnificent bridge came into sight. The bridge was under construction with parts of its span missing, but you could still read the faded “WESTERN MARYLAND RAILWAY” printed on the bridge. This bridge is the Keystone Viaduct. 
Keystone is about a thousand feet shorter than Salisbury and uses a different design. This one features an arch truss as it crosses the B&O and a girder style on concrete piers as it crosses the roadway that I was on and Flaugherty Creek. When the trail is complete, it will cross the bridge. But this trip I was stuck riding the roads. Unlike the trail which has a steady climbing grade, the roads go downhill, and unfortunately uphill. With my load, the uphill was unbearable. I am definitely a trail rider, and would never put myself in the same class as the street riders. At almost every hill, I had to climb off my bike and push. The highlight of my trip was to stand on the bridge crossing Sand Patch and watch the CSX helpers push a train towards the tunnel and shortly thereafter drift back downhill under us. When camping in Confluence as a kid, I remembered watching the helpers push the train east and in about an hour see them head back west without a train. It was definitely enjoyable to see the point where the helpers ended their eastbound journey.
At one point I stopped at an intersection to consult my detour directions. I took off my gloves and pulled out my map with the directions tucked inside. After determining which way route 2006 went, I put the map away and took off again. At one point I crossed a part of the old Western Maryland, it lay beneath the roads fill. When the railroad was still active this fill used to be a bridge where a lot of photos of the Western Maryland’s helpers were taken. Not long after that, I realized I wasn’t wearing my gloves. I looked on the back of my bike where I had set them down. They were not there. I liked those gloves, a lot. They were nice pigskin gloves and one of the few gloves that I ever wore that actually fit my small fingers. I sighed and rode on a little further. I found a tree not far from the Mason Dixon line where I sat down and ate my lunch.
When driving, you never seem to notice that there are hills in the road. On a bicycle however, they are painfully obvious. After posing my bike for a photo at the mason Dixon line, I entered Maryland. 
The road was now MD546, Finzel Road. This road had all sorts of hills and dips, mostly hills. I thought that the pedal falling off was going to be the low point of the trip, but the climb up Big Savage Mountain quickly became my low point. I was tired and was now on my fifth day of riding. The worst part was that every time the crest of a hill appeared in reach, it climbed ever so slightly more up hill. When you did reach the crest of the hill, there was a brief decent and another climb.
Out of deliriousness and the achy tiredness I was feeling, I began putting my thumb up for any pickup I seen heading my way. It seemed that almost everyone in rural Maryland has a pickup truck, but none of them trust a guy in spandex and a sweat soaked t-shirt pushing a rickety blue bike enough to give him a lift. After that madness passed a new madness creeped in. I pulled out my father’s cell phone and turned it on. The signal was weak, but I got a call placed and left a half mad message about being tired and needing a ride to Cumberland and how I was scared that I was going to miss check in time for my hotel. Immediately after leaving the message, I regretted it. I tried calling home again to explain that they should ignore the last message, that I was fine, just tired. I lost my signal.
I sat on the shoulder of the road, pickups speeding by, and I was on the verge of tears. I never expected the trip to end like this, with me sitting on a dusty shoulder in the middle of no where. That’s when I knew what I had to do. I stood up, took a big gulp of my tepid water and said,
“I can do this, I have come this far, I am not giving up now.”
The few moments of rest had revitalized me and I was ready to finish tackling the mountain. I pulled back on my pack, ignoring the sharp ache that I felt in my shoulders and grabbed the bike off of the cinders and started pushing. At this crest I saw a sight for sore eyes, route forty was in sight.
I reached forty and began the serious climb up Big Savage. It was hot and the top of the hill seemed lost in a shimmering haze. The shoulder was nice and wide up the hill. It must have been a good hour’s walk by the time I reached the summit. A humongous green sign stood before me reading, “Big Savage Mountain Elevation 2900 feet” I leaned my Huffy against the guide rail, took off my pack and sat down with some water. 
What an accomplishment making it this far. The road was also downhill for the most apparent future. Too bad Craig couldn’t make it this far. I am almost done! These are the thoughts rushing through my head. The “I am almost done!” being the biggest. I rarely complete a project. When I disembarked on this trip I had a half done N scale train layout at home that today is now dismantled completely. So the prospect of finishing something had really hit home for me. I stretched and pulled the pack on my aching shoulders. It felt cold (which was good, because it was hot out) against my sweat soaked back. I then set my good pedal up in a position to use the coaster breaks easily, and shoved off down the hill.
It was all down hill to Frostburg Maryland. In Frostburg the wide shoulder gave way to sidewalks busy with pedestrians. I opted to dismount my bicycle rather than run over the innocent bystanders. My directions told me to take route 36 around PineyMountain and through MountSavage and Corriganville. My map and prior experience driving told me that 40 was a more direct route. But I couldn’t remember if it was all down hill or not and I had to be in Cumberland before five or risk loosing my room at the Holiday Inn. I asked a passing stranger to help me.
“Excuse me sir,” I asked.
“Yes” was his reply.
“I am heading to Cumberland by bicycle.”
“Mmm hmm.”
“And I was curious, is it all downhill from here to Cumberland by using route forty?”
“Yes”
“Thank you very much”
“Your welcome, may God be with you on your quest.”
He handed me a card with a Bible verse on it and rejoined the other pedestrians wandering the sidewalks of Frostburg.
My decision was to take forty into Cumberland and forget about thirty-six. After Frostburg the shoulder was back and the ride began to descend once again down the mountain.
Forty had its pros and cons. One pro was that it was a direct route down hill to Cumberland. Con: Heavy traffic, Pro: Wide shoulder, Con: had to ride through La Vale, a town littered with hotels, motels, restaurants, gas stations, shopping centers and interstate on ramps. The last pro was the old toll booth. 
At one point route forty was a toll road and you had to stop your horse and buggy and pay your toll at the toll booth. My bike once more got its photo taken and we continued. By the time I reached La Vale, you could feel the heat radiating from my coaster breaks. Going into La Vale was like being slapped in the face. Since I left Connellsville I have been in rural areas. And it continued to be rural until right when you hit La Vale Maryland. After passing through the hustle bustle suburban nightmare of Wal-Mart, McDonalds, and the like, you are thrown right back into rural country and round the curve into the mouth of the narrows.
The narrows is simply breathtaking. Towering over you to your left is WillsMountain which contains the famous Lovers Leap. To your right is HaystackMountain. In the middle is a deep narrow canyon cut over millions of years by Wills creek on its way to the Potomac. In this deep narrow canyon that became known as the Gateway to the West, you have from left to right, The CSX mainline, originally the B&O, Wills Creek, route forty, and The Western Maryland Scenic Railroad, the Former Western Maryland Railway. And here I stood with my bike between my legs waiting on a red light to change green. I was at Eckhart Junction and almost above me was another of the Western Maryland’s Bridges that actually still carried trains in the form of a scenic train ride up to Frostburg and back. Some day the trail would be built to cross the bridge next to the tracks. The WM used to be double tracked through this area and the trail could easily be built where the second track once was. The light turned green and I entered into the narrows on the route forty shoulder (which was itself very narrow), crossed Wills creek on a bridge lacking any sort of shoulder and exited the narrows and into Cumberland.
The sign read, “Welcome to Cumberland, a main street Maryland Community”. My bike was leaned against it for another photograph. 
I made it, I made it to Cumberland. I FINISHED the bike trip. I can’t believe it. I took forty into town and made a left on Baltimore Street and walked my bike up to the Holiday Inn and chained it out front. I then went inside to check in.
“Hi,” the front desk clerk said when it was my turn to approach the front desk, “how are you doing today?”
“Good,” I replied, “reservation for LoGreco.”
“All right, welcome to Cumberland mister LoGreco. I have your reservation right here. I will need to see your credit card number.”
“Here you go,” I said as I handed her my green MAC card. She swiped it in her computer and waited a few moments.
“It appears that this card has insufficient funds,” she said.
“I already prepaid for the room,” I replied.
“Yes, I can see that, we just need a valid credit card, incase you make some phone calls or if you order room service.”
“No worries. I promise I will not order any room service or make any phone calls.” I made the scout sign with my right hand. “Also, that card will have sufficient funds tonight at midnight, I have direct deposit and that is when I get paid.”
“All right then.” She typed on the keyboard and pulled out a key card. She swiped the key card on her computer and handed it to me. A piece of paper was then removed from the printer.
“I need your initials here, here, your cars color, make, and license number here and your signature on the bottom.”
“Actually, I don’t have a car with me. I came in on bicycle. Which reminds me, am I allowed to have my bike in my room?”
“Yes you may. Did you ride the new bike trail?”
“Yes, I rode all the way from Pittsburgh.”
“Wow! Well, enjoy your stay with us.”
I grabbed my room key and signed the paper. I then proceeded outside, unlocked my bike and pushed it over to the elevator. Once inside my room I found a spot along the wall to keep my bike. I then sat down on the sofa and gave my mother and fiancé a phone call telling them I made it and that I was now safe inside my room (and to ignore my insane message). My window afforded me a lovely view of a parking garage, so I closed the curtains. 
I then got out of my sweat drenched clothes and took a long shower. I originally had thought about checking out the live music and festivities’ going on in town that Friday night; but the bed was comfy and I was very tired. So I fell immediately asleep.
And that was the end of my last day riding the bike trail in 2003. It was a long ride and some of it seemed torturous; but all in all I had a good time, met some interesting people and got to explore the countryside between PittsburghPennsylvania and CumberlandMaryland at a nice slow pace that an automobile could never provide. At the end of this ride I decided that I would do this again, maybe try and get some friends to join me and share this wonderful ride.
STATISTICS:
MILES TODAY: 29.76
AVG SPEED: 6.1mph
TRIP MILES: 155.84
TOP SPEED: 32.9mph