Mile 575: Cresson to Blairsville PA (The Ghost Town Trail)

When I woke up, I was happy that I was able to sleep with no interruptions. Since I don't have a tent yet, I had a tarp, wrapped over my bike and a large rock that block out the wind and the morning dew, but isn't the most comfortable set up on a freezing evening.

This morning was cold, my face was cold, my body was cold, and I felt so tired, dirty, and unsure of...about everything...I gathered my things, and knew that the best thing was to move forward. At this point my route was off, and I knew there weren't any hosts on WarmShowers or CouchSurfing nearby, and the best thing at this point was to get to Cleveland, I gathered all my napkins from my congestion, the book I was reading. my gear, and was glad to get a nice early start to the next town however morale was...low real low.

I stopped at a local gas station that was pretty bustling, and just about the only thing open in this town. I asked a few people about routes and directions, however most people just thought I was crazy--I could see it in their eyes:) Cresson seemed like a nice small working class town of place that enjoys their country music, hunting, and are generally good to one another.

I went up and down the rolling hills, and came across a village called Ebensburg, not much of a town, but has a historic center and is generally welcoming and a place that looks like it's trying to really put some work into being a point on the map, a place for people to visit.

In order to warm up, I came across one of the few things open on a Saturday, an oddly-placed gourmet dine-in coffeeshop. The lady running it was lovely, someone that should run their own venue, you could tell she took pride in her restaurant, though it wasn't much of a dine-in area, the food and coffee was quality, and there was care you could sense intentionally put into the coffeeshop, though it was an odd restaurant for a quiet town.

As I looked at routes, and noticed bike trail signs while entering Ebensburg, serendipitously and thankfully so, there was a bike trail going from Ebensburg to a few other towns---all places that would suit my route to Cleveland. I had a huge sigh of a relief to be able to be on a trail, to not think of the traffic, and since most trails are train rails converted to bike and walking trails--they are also generally pretty flat. After a nice-sized burger at 9:30 in the morning with a fries made in house, I happily bike downhill towards the trails where many signs in the town were pointing.

When I got on the Old Ghost Town Trail, I felt liberated from the hardships of the mountainous few days. It was a limestone trail, but hard enough where I could get some speed...and as I made progress in my journey the cold become warmer and my spirits were lifted again to have some hope to make it to Cleveland. I sniffled along the path, as my congestion and cough had only worsened, but enjoyed the few landmarks along the way telling the story of Western Pennsylvania.

Old Ghost Town Trail is an old rail route that went through the coal mining towns of Pennyslvania when Western Pennsylvania was in it's prime, however, now--most of the towns had diminished and have even disappeared completely. Although you could see some of the scarring of the mining it was generally a beautifully 30-mile trail passing rivers and streams...plenty of landmarks to keep you engaged, and kiosks and rest stops where you could tell that people had put some real love and attention into this place. Most of the people I past were not extreme cyclist, just people getting out with their families.
As I continued on towards the end of the Trail, I noticed a couple of Orthodox Churches with their golden steeples and their beautiful architecture. It reminded me of the church I attended back in Central Kentucky. Though Orthodoxy isn't common in the hills of Pennsylvania, some of the cultures of Eastern Europe and Russia during the coal mining days had influenced these small Applachian towns. I decided after passing the second church, that I wanted to go to a service that evening that was going  on in a couple hours---so I continued on a few more miles to kill time and to see how big the town up ahead was.
That town ahead, Blairsville, PA was the largest town I had seen in awhile that had urban sprawl of Walmart and fast food chains as far as the eye could see. I ducked into a McDonalds to pick up Wifi where I met an old street minister who wanted to know about my bike tour and wanted to help out anyway he could. He told me if I couldn't find a place to camp, that he could set me up with someone in town, I took down his number, but didn't think too much about where I was going to stay.
I hopped back on my bike and up to church in Black Lick, however, the church was further than I thought, so when I reached it, the service was ending, and as I walked my bike up to the church, I could see two cars in the parking lot, but decided, I had already added 8 more miles onto the trip to return to the church for the service, that there was no point turning around.

So I opened up the church doors and there were three people in the service. The priest, the deacon, and an elderly woman.

At the end of the service, the three of them all started talking to me, they were all very sweet--endearing
really, they felt like old family. The priest walked me around the church and told me some beautiful stories, and the deacon came back to talk to me, as I sat next to the church where the large bells were, and as the sun was setting on the hill overlooking the small town. He talked to me about my route and told me of a monastery nearby that I should visit.

I was glad to have visited them and be a part of their world for a moment.