Covid Cross Day #5 Madisonburg, PA to DuBois, PA
Covid Cross Day #5
June 5, 2020
Madisonburg, PA to DuBois, PA 88 Miles
Start 7:22 AM Finish 6:22 PM
Ride Time 9:00
Ascent 5514 Feet
Descent 5521 Feet
Tour Total 427.6 Miles
I slept well last night in my tent across the stream from highway 445. It sounded like it rained all night long. Perhaps it was the sound of the rushing stream or a combination of the two. I could hear traffic from the highway. I thought that I had heard voices, but I think it was my imagination. Unlike the Carretera Austral there was no fencing alongside the roads here, and it was easy to stealth camp.
Everything was wet in the morning. I had managed to stay warm, but the outside of my sleeping bag was damp. I woke up at 6:30 and it was a slow strategic pack. My socks were soaking wet so I put on my waterproof socks. My shoes were wet, particularly the left one that had submerged in the stream. I wanted the moisture to wick outward and not make my feet cold. My jersey was wet but I put it on anyway. I knew I would warm up as soon as I began climbing. I put on my soggy rain jacket and took my bike back across the creek. I was very careful and didn’t slip in this time. The ride began first thing with a climb up a switch back. My gloves were soaking wet from yesterday.
I stopped at the top of the mountain to eat a banana. I was going to remove my rain jacket but realized I would need it for the downhill. I followed a nice stream all the way down the hill. There were no services in Nittany. On the other end of town I passed a herd of spotted cows chomping on grass. I noticed a bluejay fly up onto a tree limb. There were no services in Hubersburg. I was riding west through the Nittany Valley with a large ridge to the south and a smaller ridge to the north.
I stopped at Valero’s Ingram’s Market outside of Zion. Masks weren’t required and weren’t being worn by the cashier or most of the customers. I got a Starbucks Frappuccino and ate my energy bar from the hotel. I sat on the bench and uploaded photos for yesterday‘s post. I got back on my bike and my gloves were still wet but my feet were dry. I'd been seeing signs for Penn’s Cave for days now. Ostensibly I was getting closer, although I wasn't planning to visit. I rode Zion Road to the town of Bellefonte and crossed under I-99.
Bellefonte was a good-sized town. I entered through the sprawl of fast food, grocery stores, banks, and health centers. The high school was preparing for a graduation ceremony by automobile. Traffic cones were set up in the long driveway to make lanes. Temporary platforms with awnings were erected at various stopping points. Police officers were milling about, and the early arrivals, dressed in their finest, were holding bouquets of flowers.
The Bellefonte historic center was beautiful. I felt like I was in Europe. The architecture was extraordinary. Just a few miles down the road I entered Milesburg and saw the tour's third confederate flag. On the other side of town I got onto four-lane Highway 144. I saw four black crows sitting on dead tree limbs cawing at me as I rode by. The rumble strips were running down the middle of the shoulder. Not cool Pennsylvania DOT. Where was I supposed to ride?
I knew that I had a monster hill to climb between here and Snowshoe so I stopped at Sheetz. I used their impersonal computer system to order an egg sandwich with tater tot’s. The person on the other side of the counter then made my order. I would have preferred to interact with them. I picked up a Starbucks Frappuccino from the cooler. I ate my breakfast out front on the curb, and stowed my rain jacket before departing.
On my way up the hill, I spotted a freshly killed deer in the ditch to my right. The climb made me toasty, so I unzipped the front of my jersey. The waterproof socks were making my feet hot. I was riding alongside I-80, and I could see cars and buildings down below me through the trees. I stopped mid-hill to change my socks. I cut, peeled, and devoured the delicious mango that I had carried from Brooklyn. It was a sticky mess, and I used the moist towel that I got from Damon's to clean my hands. I popped some nuts in my mouth and continued up Snowshoe mountain.
I crossed over I-80 once again. I-80 and I began our journey together on the George Washington Bridge leaving Manhattan. We'd be seeing each other several more times heading west, before we finally split away from one another in Iowa. The sun was trying to come out but, as I neared Snowshoe, it turned cloudy, cool, and windy. I stopped at the Sunoco in Snowshoe to buy a Gatorade. There were confederate flag coffee mugs in the gift shop.
I continued on Route 144, and there was another large hill outside of town. I could see a TURD 2020 sign in a front yard up ahead. A heavy white man was out mowing his lawn on a tractor. He was shirtless and obese. We waved to one another and he shouted "You're braver than I am! There’s a lot of traffic on this road I would never do what you’re doing." I passed a couple out on their lawn having a yard sale. Their stuff looked pretty crappy so I didn't stop. They asked me if I needed water or anything, and I politely declined.
Many rural people exhibit some sort of expression in their front yard. I've seen painted wooden cut-outs of animals and figures. I've noticed plenty of rocks, both large and small; painted, engraved, and some with large drilled holes. I've passed large painted tires. There were mass-produced things like giant wooden baskets, artificial wells, and gazing globes. I'd seen plenty of stump carvings and all kinds of animal statues.
I was passed by a road crew line painting unit coming from the other direction. First came the pilot car with signs and flashing yellow lights. Then a large truck with a rear rig capable of painting both the double yellow center lines as well as the oncoming lane's white line. It was computer controlled with optical sensors. The new lines were laid down precisely over the old. They were using ammonia-based paint. The white line ran down the middle of the rumble strips the way it should. Center County is doing a fine job maintaining it's roads.
On my way towards Kylertown and just after the town of Drifting, I passed the tour's first open bar and grill. There were cars in the parking lot and it was tempting to stop. A couple cold pints of Yuengling and a burger would have been nice, but I was pressed to get to my destination. I saw some wild turkey hens in the woods. My front derailer got jammed and my chain got stuck on the low ring. I had to pull over and fix it. I love my new Liv Ratchet Multi-Tool. It makes adjustments like this so easy. I was passed by several logging trucks.
I was climbing a steep hill and was boiling hot. I stopped at the top at Nittany MinitMart for some red Gatorade and water. None of the other customers were wearing masks. and people were talking about a demonstration in Clearfield, which was my destination. After the stop, I forgot to turn on my Cyclemeter app which created a small gap on my map data. I was struck by the poverty in the small town of Mineral Springs.
The last stretch into Clearfield was on Highway 322. There was lots of traffic and it was not enjoyable. I had tuned into Sheila B's live radio show. With the current political unrest, she was one of the WFMU DJs that I knew could bring me comfort. It was a poignant and heart-felt show featuring all black female musicians. I spotted the tour's fourth confederate flag flying in the back of a pick up-truck alongside an American flag. It was driving in the opposite direction and passed me. They thought they were the calvary.
In the industrial part of town I passed an enormous plant with huge tanks and all sorts of large pipes. I had originally planned to stay in Clearfield, but I didn't like the vibe. All of the hotels were off route and outside of town. I needed beer, food, and a clean room to dry out my gear and sleep. I spotted John & Karen’s Railroad Street Tavern and decided stop for a beer. There was a sign on the door saying that customers had to wear a mask when entering or leaving. The bartender was wearing a mask under his chin. There was cigarette smoke in the air and six people at the bar. I had three delicious mugs of Yuengling.
Clearfield marked the end of map section 4 so I switched over to the next map and discovered that there were plenty of services in the next town of DuBois. After being reenergized from the three beers I decided to ride on. As I was pedaling I started looking at the elevation profiles, and realized I had a 1,000 foot climb.
US Highway 322, aka the Rockton Mountain Highway, was a busy four-lane highway, but the silver lining was that the grade wasn't too steep. I was having more difficulty getting into my lower front chain ring. This problem had occurred at the beginning of the tour, but then the derailleur found itself a sweet spot. I should have tightened the bolts before they loosened. I now needed to find another sweet spot. I passed a dozen hypodermic needles off the shoulder. Seeing those things always makes me uncomfortable. It was a long hill but I finally made it to the top. The expressway ended and I found myself back on a two-lane road.
It was nice riding through S.B. Elliott State Park. A gang of six motorcycles passed me going the other direction as I was climbing the hill to Rockton. On my towards DuBois I unfortunately spotted the tour's fifth confederate flag which upset me. I passed a large minor league baseball stadium. A groundhog ran underneath somebody’s front porch.
I settled on the Best Western Hotel. It was on the route, and ostensibly near food. For $99 I received ghetto accommodations. I was placed on the lower level in an underground bunker. There was a small window with little light. I set up my tent on the second bed and attempted to dry the fly with the air conditioner/heating unit. I pulled out my damp sleeping bag ands blew up my wet Thermarest. It was late and I didn't want to miss dinner, so I quickly showered and let clothes soak in the sink.
The hotel clerk had recommended the Chicken Coop for dinner. I googled and could find no such place. It suggested Dr. Doolittle, which was a road-side place that matched the description. I pedaled the fifteen minute ride out of town only to discover an ice cream stand with annoying children. I took a photo of the dinosaur with a face mask, and headed back to town in search of a better option.
I had passed the BuBois Diner on my way out of town, and was reminded by a billboard on my return. It was open and customers weren't required to wear masks. The servers, however, were. I ordered a 24oz. Dogfish Head 60 Minute IPA with a Haddock dinner. I sat in a booth, all of which were separated by sheets of clear acrylic. The fish was overdone. I ordered a smaller Dogfish Head and a six pack of Sam Adams for carry-out. I rode back to the hotel to finish and dry my laundry. I had a few Sam Adams while I finished yesterday's report.
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