It was hard to leave Rachael. I lingered in bed longer than I should have, partially in a vain hope the rain would stop, but mostly because I didn't want to leave her. She was sad to have me go, and I didn't want to show how much I felt it too.
I left into the rain a little before 8. Despite the rain, I made good time for awhile. Things started easy on the GAP. Then there was the hike-a-bike climb to the Rankin Bridge, and it was back to streets and hills. Getting out of Pittsburgh to the East was not near as hard as it was getting in from the North.
Instead of taking the direct, shorter route by following Highway 22, I took Google's instructions and got on the Westmoreland Heritage Trail to the North. It was muddy from the rain (which did stop, though the sky never cleared to dry me off), but certainly scenic. I also had nothing to fear from traffic and didn't have to see a soul most the day. It was good. ...Until it turned into the West Penn Trail at Saltsburg. The trail got notably rougher, muddier, and just all around less pleasant from there, and my pace got much slower. I kept on going on though, just hoping to reach the end of it, and that the Ghost Town trail I planned to take after it would be better. I reached a dam, which had a beautiful view, but required me to take a long backtracking route to get to a bridge some ways down only to come right back to the dam on the other side, with the steep climbing on the way. That was alright. The steep rocky switchbacks after that, which I could generously call single track conditions, were less so. ...Reaching the point after all of that where Google maps told me there was a bridge to cross and finding no bridge, that was even less okay. It was flooded over. There were stairs down to a bridge that was nowhere to be seen. Being as I'm on bike and not some sort of covered wagon led by oxens, there was no Oregon Trail style fording happening. I had no choice but to turn around and go through that whole mess all over.
After that, I said the hell with the biking directions, told Google to get me there by car, and meandered my way through country roads to get to Highway 22, where I probably should have been all along. The shoulder was decent enough. Though it was still tough going, with some seriously steep climbs. I was making my way, slowly but surely...until I just hit a wall. I had one more big hill to climb (6 miles and 900 feet of up left, after nearly 80 and somewhere between 3 and 4000 feet of up already done), and I just didn't feel I had it in me. Not if I plan to do another long day tomorrow (which insanely, I do). So, I did something I've only ever done once (and that was because I balded my tires on my first tour), and I called it in and had my hosts pick me up, as they had offered to do earlier and have apparently done for many people. I sat, wet and cold on a side road connecting to the highway and tried to rekindle my spirits. There was a time I would have been too proud, with too much to prove, to have done what I did. But you know, I've already proven everything I wanted to a long time ago. I got screwed over by poor planning on my first day out, a lot of rain and mud, and a bridge out that I couldn't have predicted. It was an Inauspicious beginning, but all said, I think I made a good show of it.
I loaded up my bike and gear, got carried the last 6 miles in no time, hosed off my stuff, got my nice warm shower, and ate a nice meal my hosts prepped while having a pleasant discussion about my touring adventures and that of their daughter's (the reason they host). It was a tough first day, and I will likely hurt in the morning, but I wouldn't take any of it back, all said and done. Pictures will follow later. I have no wifi tonight.
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