Mile 657: End of Pennsylvania

When I woke up, I looked across the river to see all the things I couldn't see last night. Mainly tried to figure out the camping situation across the river, my neighbors, who weed-wacked at 3:30 in the morning and blared songs like Billy Joel's Pianoman and Hang On Suzy, but by 6:00 in the morning they appear to be silent, and there was only a tent and a patch of grass.
I sat up, and took a deep breath, though it was rough camping, I was warm and I felt safe the whole night, and was glad to be alongside the river and on the quaint bike path next to Freeport, PA.

It made me relieve to know I just needed to bike twenty miles up to Butler, PA and after navigating at night and through the towns, there is something calming about being on a bike path.
That morning,  I was feeling weak and congested, but happy I could zone out on the bike path. It was Memorial Day, so I expected more traffic on the trail and was a little worried some people might find me camping on the trail---but apparently there are no early birds in Freeport. It wasn't until about an hour into my trip that I came across people, mostly athletes training, and a few pretty serious bikers. One mountain bike pulled up next to me and started asking me about my tour. He was a young, kind looking gentleman

He told me he had hiked the Appalachian Trail and seemed pretty interested in my adventure. He too had an Alaskan adventure a few years back, he rode with me for a good thirty minutes or so, which kept me awake and my morale high. I sniffled and had a hard time keep my breath while biking and talking to him, and hope he didn't judge me too much for my slow pace.

He gave me a few suggestions for campgrounds towards Cleveland, but at that point I knew it was time for me to get off the road. So I called my friend Sasha, a very old friend from AmeriCorps who I have endless amounts of adventures from the past including bike adventures, New Orleans, road trips, farming adventures (only to name a few).
 I called to see if she wouldn't mind driving some extra miles to pick me up, when she said yes--without a blink, I nearly cried. I was so relieved to be able to get off the road---at this point my breathing was only getting shorter, and hills were nearly impossible, it was almost a useless task to call what I was doing touring. It was more like struggling.

As the clouds rolled in, and my friend assured me wherever I was, I should stop, I ducked into a McDonalds and took a break, realizing the hour it would take to get 7-10 miles was really nothing when driving, and another rain pour would really do me no good. I was proud that I had made it this far into my trip...but even more proud that I knew to just stop when it was appropriate.

I made a few phone calls while waiting for Sasha to come pick me up, and when I finished a conversation, a nearby trucker sitting next to me overheard that I was touring. He asked me about foraging. He was a nice trucker, with a calm demeanor, who obviously knew a thing or two about natural medicines and collecting wild plants etc. He pulled up a few websites on his computer and we sat there for a good bit talking about how to forage, what to forage, and the benefits of plants. He really encouraged me to look into this a bit more, since it's a good skill to pick up, and a good way to get nutrition when on the move.

Abi and Sasha at my house in KY 2010

By the afternoon, Sasha pulled in with a carload of people, ran up to me in her usual wild-looking demeanor, threw my bike on the car, and told me that from here on out everything was going to be okay.
Sasha, has been a friend of mine and Abi's since 2006 when we all did AmeriCorps together, she too has biked across the country herself with Bike & Build last year---a perfect companion as I take my break to get better and get over my respiratory setbacks, and to relax and enjoy life in the big city.