D & L Canal Trail North

I woke up this morning feeling sort of sad, or at least more melancholy than I usually do. My life over the past week and a half has been sort of shaken up, and even my riding seemed to regress to beginner mistakes. I woke up knowing I had to go for a bike ride, but not knowing what route to try. I just felt listless and bored, tired of living in such a busy commuter area and still feeling too nervous to just get on my bike from my front door and go. But I got myself out of bed and sorted out enough to drive down to the Canal Trail, knowing I wanted to try going north this time because I was curious as to where it went and because I knew it was a longer trail. I wanted to break ten miles today because I’ve been stuck in a seven to nine mile range; and really I just wanted to say, “I biked ten miles this morning.” It sounds better than, “I bike 8.75 miles.”

So I joined the fishermen’s vehicles, unloaded my bike, strapped on my backpack, stretched, and headed off. Within five minutes I noticed the first major difference between north and south: north is a packed dirt or crushed rock road, smooth, flat, and easy to ride; whereas south was mostly a narrow trail of packed dirt or sand and often gave way to washed-out areas of rock and sand. North is, in this regard, easier because it’s literally smooth cycling for the entire 4.2 mile stretch. It runs between the railroad track and the Lehigh River, creating a juxtaposition of new versus old. I found myself musing about the canal horses that used to walk along the path I now bike, faithfully pulling boats along the small waterway as the Lehigh gurgled along beside them. Now, trains transport their cargo faster and further while ducks and geese paddle in the canal. The Lehigh continues to tumble and glide between its banks, standing the test of time and transition of technology.

It didn’t take long for my mood to change, and soon I was smiling and enjoying myself. I splashed through puddles, sending mud up to my shoulders and even into my helmet. My muscles felt strong and sturdy, and my breathing was more regular than ever. I’ve discovered that I do need about three miles or so to warm up, and that I usually stop to stretch, drink, and take some pictures around that point. After my first stop, I’m much faster and able to maintain a faster pace. I like cycling with more tension, and usually find myself in the second and sixth gears. Shifting still isn’t quite second nature; I tend to shift up when I mean to shift down, which leaves me swearing and muttering as I quickly shift correctly and continue up whatever hill I’m facing. I appreciate the canal trails for their almost total flatness because they are helping me with my long-distance endurance and allowing me to build my confidence and capabilities. I know that I need to start adding some hilly rides into my routine as those crank up my heart rate, challenge my breathing methods, and make my legs ache.

I reached the end of the trail without realizing I had; I sped up a hill and into what appeared to be a parking lot, then a picnic area as I searched for the connection to the rest of the trail. Finding nothing, I returned to a map posted, but of found it useless: sometimes, a “You are here” symbol is quite handy. Behind me, I noticed a trail that went under the railroad bridge and then off onto the woods. That seemed to be what I sought, and so off I went. On the other side of the bridge, I was shocked to see that I had cycled to Allentown: the PPL building stood tall and tanned in the distance. My small trail continued, although this was a far cry from what I had been cycling on all morning: this was a narrow path and overrun with briar bushes that created a nice slalom course for me. At a fork offering trail versus bridge, I went left on the path and into the woods. Immediately, I hit the brakes to avoid smashing into a fallen tree. The adventurous part of me wanted to clamber over and see where the trail went; the logical part said I could cross the bridge and go along the road. Two steps onto the bridge indicated that may also be a bad plan: its plywood surface seemed unstable at best. I turned around completely and headed back the way I came.

Knowing what lay ahead, I picked up my speed from the 10-12mph I averaged on the way out, and maintained a 15-17mph pace for the entire stretch back. Just as I was getting to the ten mile distance, my hips, legs, and butt started to get sore. I shifted up and got out of the saddle, although my pedaling is much less smooth when I’m standing, or even hovering. Even a few seconds helped my seat feel better, but my quadriceps burned. It was also the only place where goose hissed at me. They vastly outnumber people on the trail, so I should be thankful that one warning was all I got, and that it was relatively non-threatening. A mallard and his mate ignored me completely as I sped by, and what I think was a Baltimore oriole dived and climbed air currents above me.

I made it back to the trail head and decided to just push a little further to make sure I hit ten and even eleven miles. I pedaled above the southern trail, hit some little hills, and felt a little like a mountain biker. It was only when I got to this more public area that I realized it may be time to invest in some proper biking attire. My polyester tank top was fine; my athletic bra was not. The amount of cleavage I was sporting had to catch the eye of the fishermen along the creek. It may be smarter to keep things a bit more concealed if I’m biking by myself. I like the idea of a nice tan, but it’s time to head to Sports Authority in search of a) a better cycling bra; b) cycling shorts (yes to padding!); and though I hate to say it, c) a fanny pack of sorts. I’ve been cycling with a hiking backpack on to carry my wallet, camera, car keys, and phone. I’d like to downsize as it would not only leave my bright colored shirt visible to motorists instead of hiding it behind a gray pack, but it will not impede my tanning. I’ll have to figure out something different for my camera, too. I also need to get that spare tire tube and pump; I’m out and about enough now that it’s just silly to not have them. My bike computer is working super well, and I need to start recording my distances, calories, average speeds, etc. I like tracking that sort of thing. I think I’m almost ready to get involved with the Lehigh Valley Wheelmen. I can hold my speed fairly well, although less so on hilly roads; and I’m better at staying in a straight line. A few more solo trips and then that’ll be my next big step.

The more I get out and ride, the more eager I become to make my adventure happen. I’m thinking maybe of focusing it on state and national parks and forests, as in drive to Shenandoah, park, then bike and camp. I’m not sure of all the rules and regulations, but I’ve still got time to research and plan. That’s as fun as the actual training. I also have two possible adventuring partners, which is awesome. They both have first priorities that are not a cross country bike trip, but have seriously agreed that if those first plans fall through, they’re genuinely intrigued by my idea. One wants to go to Atlanta; the other the Pacific Northwest. That definitely works for me.