Uniontown to Chalkhill: A Very Short DayUniontown, PA
to
Chalkhill, PA
July 23, 2003
Back up to Manitowoc to Washington
Uniontown to Chalkhill: A Very Short DayWestbound: Monaca to Uniontown Eastbound: Chalkhill to Grantsville
As usual, after a late night, I was slow to move in the morning. Letting the morning rain showers pass added to my lethargy. I went next door to Bob Evans for a big breakfast. Perhaps it was my mood, perhaps it was the staff; in either event, it was not fully satisfying. Before leaving town, I wanted to mail some stuff home rather than carry it to England. If I waited any longer I would (a) have to carry it over the tough hills soon to come and (b) it might not arrive at home before my wife left for London. So after packing, I got directions to the main Post Office and set off toward downtown under broken clouds.
Uniontown is an older city with streets that pay some attention to geography and history. I like that in general, but it did leave me a at a loss to follow the directions from the motel staff. After enough back and forth, I asked a gentleman in a suit—today much more of a distinction than in the past—and got directions to a nearby branch office. That staff was helpful and I was then soon on my way, having spent only forty-five minutes on a ten minute errand.
The weather was still fine as I left town. Almost as soon as one leaves Uniontown to the east, one faces a long hill, about a 1200 foot climb. Because the highway has a good shoulder, the hill is work but not a bother. Until, that is, one reaches the construction zone. For the fifty feet of dirt without a should and one lane uphill, I didn’t apologize for walking the bike amongst the equipment. Starting up again on a steep hill, of course, can be challenge on a recumbent even with a sound ankle, but with that burden met, up the hill I continued. As I reached the top, the clouds closed in. And then the rain began. Unlike summit rain, which is often light, this was real rain, coincidently at a summit. Visibility was zilch. I kept going—standing still on a curve made no sense—but I wasn’t super happy.
After a bit more, I came to the entrance to the Summit Inn and Resort. While it appeared a bit out of my usual price range, I had plastic, and “any port (or sherry) in a storm” seemed on point. I entered the older building with a little trepidation but received a professional, warm welcome. Of course they would be happy to serve me lunch, no my wet clothing was no problem at all, yes, if I insisted, I could have towel to sit on , no their chair didn’t mind the damp. They did everything to make me comfortable save sending me upstairs for a warm shower and change of clothes.
My French Onion Soup and Chef Salad were both satisfactory on their own. In the ambience, they were wonderful. If one Googles this establishment, one finds mixed reviews. I can’t speak to the state of the rooms upstairs. I can affirm that the dining room is lovely, even stately and that the food is at least acceptable and that the staff is superb.
Alas, after an hour, I had consumed what made sense, warmed up, and almost dried out. It was time to face the elements anew. The rain had eased but not stopped. Having g reached the top of the hill, the road does not dive back down but has a more decline. Given the weather conditions, that was nice. The rain eased a little more as I lost a hundred feet or so of attitude and I resume eastward progress. I still had nearly forty miles to go to reach the Holiday Inn where I had reservation, but it was not yet 2pm so I expected to arrive cold, wet, and sort of tired but under control.
About five miles later, the bike’s handling went sour and I pulled over. Yup, flat tire on the back. Again, I looked around and saw a restaurant with eaves across the highway. Once under the eaves I started the work to remove the wheel remove the tire, replace the tube an tire and so on. It was approaching 3pm, it was still raining, there was a motel to my left, there was another motel back across the highway, and the eaves belonged to a place that sold pizza. Taken together, this cluster to signals told me to pack it infor the day. I got a room, took my shower, finished the repair dry under a roof, and watched the sun come out. I didn’t care. I could afford he rest day. I did, however, remember to call the Holiday Inn to move my reservation back a day.
A measure of my state of mind—how tired I must have been— is that it didn’t occur to me to plan my next stops. I was now about 30 miles from Grantsville. It would have made sense to shoot for Cumberland the next day to shorten the day crossing the worst of the mountains. Instead, I just pushed everything back a day. Instead of spending half a day; I burned a whole day.
After I had the bike completely squared away, I relaxed, read, chatted with the Motel’s owners, and then went next door for pizza. One interesting facet of the restaurant , which was not very large, maybe only thirty seats, was that is had a large print of a famous work of modern art that I couldn’t quite place but was sure I had seen before. I think it was part of an exhibit of German works we had encountered at the Vancouver, BC Art Museum. The server that afternoon didn’t know anything about it so I was left with my mystery. It occurs to me now that getting my camera and snapping a shot would have preserved the imaged for later identification. Next time.
Actually, that does raise a disappointment. On this trip, the priority was completion with the added constraint of making the deadline for the flight to London and with the added challenge of the injured ankle. Somehow taking pictures fell in my priorities. I envy Mark Boyd’s diligence in snapping so many shots along his way. I’ll try harder on the next tour.
With nothing much more to do, and still tired from the previous late night and the challenges of Eastern Ohio, after a short call home, I went to sleep early. It was a short day and appears to have been a needed rest day.
About 10 miles in an unknown time of actual riding.
Back up to Manitowoc to Washington
Westbound: Monaca to Uniontown Eastbound: Chalkhill to Grantsville