Biking Presque Isle

I think I have visited enough state parks in Pennsylvania to know that Presque Isle State Park is probably my favorite. The park provides for dramatically different experiences in each of the four seasons and includes a variety of different environments: beach, wetland, and forest. It amazes me how the thick, solid ice dunes of February, however, reveal pristine beaches in the summertime.

Just one of the perfect beaches on the unprotected Lake Erie side of Presque Isle, a few months earlier this section of beach was covered in ice dunes

The term Presque Isle is derived from the French term for an “almost” an island. So you find yourself on a peninsula surrounded by Lake Erie. The Presque Isle Multi-Purpose Trail is about 13.5 miles long and takes users on a complete loop of the peninsula: through the harbor protected by the peninsula, through wetlands and wildlife refuge, past beaches getting surprising amounts of surf from the unsheltered waters of Lake Erie, and even some cool, shaded forest. The route is a loop and it is largely level. There are some areas that follow the shoulder of the main road through the park so if you go, note that bike traffic generally moves counter-clockwise but, if you are not up for a solid 13.5 miles, there are plenty of opportunities to take shortcuts and enjoy different aspects of the park.

Our approach was to park in the first lot we found that had space and start from there, with the intention of completing the entire trail, which we did successfully. The ride was awesome, except when we were stuck behind people in rental surreys who could not quite seem to figure out how to operate the vehicles that everyone on board can help pedal. However, it is rare to encounter places in the trail where slower traffic cannot be passed in fairly short order.

Check out Presque Isle State Park and bring your bike, and do so especially if you are trying to find a way to spend more time on a bike or practice biking. Besides, the more you pedal the more you can justify eating all the junk food at the beach concession stands along the way. There may or may not have been a fully loaded foot-long hot dog near the end of my biking day.

For more information on the trail, including a detailed and printable map, I suggest checking out the listing on AllTrails, linked here.

See you on the trail soon!

Riding the Dawkins Line

The Dawkins Line Rail Trail is an 18-mile-long rail trail in Johnson and Magoffin counties in southeastern Kentucky. It is longest rail trail in Kentucky. It is currently a multi-use trail that follows the railroad constructed to support the operations of the Dawkins Lumber Company as the Big Sandy and Kentucky River Railroad in 1912. After changing hands a number of times over the years, 36 miles of track were abandoned by the R.J. Corman Railroad Group in 2004. Two years after abandonment, the Kentucky General Assembly allocated funds to begin converting the right-of-way into a rail trail, with the project moving forward in 2011. Presently, the trail runs 18 miles, but is eventually expected to be extended for the entire 36 miles of abandoned right-of-way.

Aiming to spend more time on my bike and wanting to visit the in-laws in Huntington, West Virginia, my husband and I put the bikes in the back of the truck and decided to challenge the prediction of rain and head down to the Jane Beshear Trail Head near Salyersville, Kentucky. We planned to start here and bike to the Gun Creek Tunnel to sate my husband’s dream to see every single railroad tunnel.

It was cool and the weather was not looking favorable, the skies were quite foreboding as we journeyed down U.S. Route 23 from Catlettsburg, Kentucky to Paintsville, and then over to the trailhead off of U.S. Route 460. The rain was holding out.

We parked at the Jane Beshear Trail Head and thought it looked quite nice. There is plentiful parking. Facilities to help folks get on and off of their horses. There are even bathrooms… which were locked tight. It was a little unnerving to find this nice trailhead entirely abandoned with locked pit toilets. We persevered.

We started heading toward what we thought was the tunnel, but realized in short order that we were moving in the wrong direction. In that mile or so we traveled before realizing we were headed in the wrong direction we enjoyed some light rain, stunning views of working farms, and some areas with aggregate that was really testing my calves. Almost back to where we started, a dog came out of nowhere and was quite menacing. I’m incredibly afraid of most dogs, so I was already feeling a little out of place, and this really upset dog was not helping me feel any more at ease.

Back to where we began. Back to the trailhead. Back to the locked bathrooms. I hated that the bathrooms were locked.

We now found ourselves biking through Royalton. Royalton is little more than a Dollar General, a convenience store, and a lot of Confederate flags. The houses, churches, and ruins abutting the trail heading beyond Royalton are a study in Appalachian poverty. I was both glad to see them trying to develop the rail trail and frustrated that the environment was so bleak and unwelcoming. Despite how bleak the built environment was, the natural beauty of this area was impossible to miss. I am grateful for the experience.

About two miles into our journey the rain stated. However, we believed we could not be that far from the tunnel. We decided to keep going. The grade got steeper (logging railroads always pushed the boundaries in terms of grade). The rain fell harder and harder. In a fit of frustration, soaked to the bone, I started belting out You’ll Never Leave Harlan Alive, my only audience my husband and those resting in the number of country cemeteries we passed.

Legs burning, soaked to the bone, and full of all kinds frustration, we arrived at the Gun Creek Tunnel. The Gun Creek Tunnel is not terribly impressive as railroad tunnels go, but I am certain that when it finally came into view I had never been happier to see a tunnel in my life. My husband and I breezed through the tunnel, felt like we were starting to dry off from the downpour, and felt that we had accomplished something great.

Gun Creek Tunnel Portal

The best part? It was all downhill back to the car! Though shortly after leaving the tunnel, there was a sign that suggested trail users menaced by dogs should call the Magoffin County Sheriff’s Department. Well that’s too little too late, I thought.

The rain stopped as we coasted the miles back to the truck. Mile by mile, we got a little drier and decided we had accomplished something great and discovered a complicated, beautiful, and pained place.

Locked bathrooms and horse facilities at the Jane Beshear Trail Head near Royalton, Kentucky

Back in the Saddle

As long as I have been aware of its existence, I have dreamt of taking one day to make a return trip on the Decker’s Creek Rail Trail by bike. The 19-mile trail follows the former Morgantown and Kingwood Railroad from Morgantown, WV to just east of Reedsville, WV. Aside the distance, the other challenge is the grade: over the 19-mile distance is an elevation gain of 1000 feet. By now you’re likely judging me. That’s alright. I understand. Until this past weekend, I hadn’t been on a bike in over three years.

Grad school has not been kind to my waistline. It happens to the best of us. There are long hours behind the computer screen and it is often just so much easier to throw something in the microwave and chew it down in front of the computer. But I have tried to free up one day a week where I try to avoid my research, research of my classmates, and classwork. With this time, as I’ve shared on this blog before, I love to geocache.

On Sunday I took the opportunity to merge geocaching with my interest in getting back on the bike. As soon as they opened, we stormed Dick’s Sporting Goods in Morgantown and found the perfect bike rack, the Yakima MegaJoe Elite 3-Bike Trunk Vehicle Rack, which was on sale no less! We wanted a rack that could hold three bikes because we frequently go on road trips with one of our good friends and wanted the flexibility to bring an extra bike with us. Installing the rack wasn’t too bad, though there’s a little scratched paint on Chris’s Honda Civic. The rack carried the bikes flawlessly.

We had our sights set on GC2X9BN NOTICE Cheat Haven Hiking Trail, which is at the far end of a 3.6 mile trail stretching out from Cheat Lake Park. Chris, our friend Brian, and I set out on the trail along the like which, a long time ago, was a railroad (it’s a trend in this part of the country). Within minutes, I could feel my wrists straining and my thighs burning with the unfamiliar movements of riding a bicycle.

About two-thirds of the way to the geocache we took a brief break on the side of the trail to allow a service vehicle pass us and I could barely extract myself from the seat. The pain was intense. But, whether we kept going or returned to the cars, the only option ahead of me was to get back on the bike and pedal. In case you were worried, we found the geocache.

 Through the trees, Cheat Lake

The ride back seemed so much easier. In fact, when we returned to the trailhead near the parking area, we decided to head the other direction on the trail to pick up two other geocaches. The soreness never disappeared and the pain in my arms persisted, but I felt like I accomplished something great: 8.6 miles, total.

On the drive back to our home, we were excitedly planning future bike trips to help build our abilities up so within two or three months we will be able to conquer the Decker’s Creek Rail Trail. Two days out, the pain my shoulders is intense and the stiffness in my neck persistent. To me, it is motivation to get back on the bike until multiple days of muscle pain aren’t the reward for attempting to make a solid life decision.