Danville, PA-Bedford, OH (Hills and Bumps and Bruises)

After putting on freshly laundered clothes thanks for our hosts in Danville, we rode out looking for a nice high mile day and aimed for the town of Bellefonte which would be about 75 miles away. The day started out relatively flat and we were optimistic that we could make it through the rolling hills of the farm country, tucked away between the mountains. We pressed on and eventually the country hills turned in to long gradual hills leading into Bald Eagle State Park.

There we decided to take lunch at a river where they had a covered pavilion in the shade (a luxury from God while touring). I loaded up on peanut butter and banana sandwiches and some of the elk jerky and sausage that Jack had given us. Jared had some as well, but also decided to compliment it with the taste of moldy Ragu sauce that he had been keeping since the first day in Dover.

After heading out from lunch we stumbled into a lake that Jack had told us was spring fed so it would be super cold. The water was full of sunscreen and overweight Americans...so we fit right in aside from Jared. As soon as you entered the water, your body went numb, but after riding hard in the heat we didn't mind. I dunked my head under twice for a couple seconds each and that was plenty for me. After gorging ourselves on water from the fountain, we topped off our bottles and pack and headed out, quickly leaving the park and entering Amish country.

Amish country was gorgeous, sprawling farms nestled beneath the mountains, made for great thinking time as we just geared down and enjoyed the view. Then just as we finished this area and reached the base of the mountain standing in front of us before Bellefonte, Jared's moldy Ragu struck back on the side of the road where he decided to release the Ragu (and everything he's probably eaten in the past month) from bondage into the soft Pennsylvania grass. Throwing up doesn't really bother me, but seeing a little guy heave that much was too much and part of me changed that day.

Realizing there was no way he could make it up the mountain we decided to sit down at a restaurant in Centre Hall to eat and figure out a solution. None of us were sensitive enough to Jared to resist eating marinara sauce in front of him but we did come up with a solution. Carson called the police and arranged for a state trooper to come pick up Jared and his bags and take him to a hotel in Bellefonte.

After pushing my loaded bicycle with my left hand and carrying his unloaded bicycle on my right shoulder up a mountain, we decided the best way to get it down the other side was to load his bike on my rear rack so it made for an airplane wing kind of function. As I glided down the mountain trying to keep Jared's bike from throwing me over, I prayed that this not be the unglorious end to my life. Thankfully Jared's bike did me the service of knocking off my rear light because an older man named Lyle saw the light and came looking for a cyclist in need of being visible to traffic. He found us at the bottom of the hill with still another 5 miles until Bellefonte and not much resolve as to how to get there and thankfully Lyle was a friendly enough (and eccentric) old man with an adventurous and resourceful wife and a pickup truck. He loaded Jared's bike into his truck and took it to Pastor Ron's house for us.

As we approached Pastor Ron's house we saw a giant hill but just when I was about ready to break my bicycle over my knee with the power of rage, we saw the blinking light of Carson's light showing us the way and we powered up to the house. Pastor Ron is another gem who we lucked into finding. He offered to let us stay inside the house in beds he had upstairs and shower. After the day we had we gladly accepted. I got to talk old time baseball with Ron for a good hour before heading to bed and hear about the greats like my favorite, Roberto Clemente, and his favorite, Mike Schmidt.

In the morning Pastor Ron went and picked up Jared from the hotel and whipped us up some pancakes and eggs. This man is as godly as they come and will have all the jewels in his crown that he spoke of. He even offered to take Jared to our next destination in Clearfield so off we went. Unfortunately the first several miles from Ron's house were all uphill, big hills. After 3 miles we hit a small downhill and that's when I heard my name being screamed. Carson had lost control of his handlebar as it came loose and had fallen hard at about 25mph, banging his head and legs and ripping up his shoulder like a bear's claws. --Matt went to take a shower so this is Carson taking over-- First of all, I wasn't screaming. I would say I was hollering. screaming implies a hapless damsel in distress. Hollering is more informative, it communicates "hey Matt whenever you have a second I'm over here bleeding. No rush." I was pretty out of it for a few minutes, apparently I pumped my head pretty good. they tell me I asked for Ibuprofen, which is uncharacteristic of me as I generally see medication as a sign of weakness. Then I asked where Jared was, which was not a good sign because Jared was back sick at the house. Next, Travis went about dressing my wounds and checking my head for signs of serious injury and (just to make things clear) I asked again where Jared was. They told me that not only had I already asked that but that they had already told me Jared wasn't here because he was sick.

Travis and Matt decided it would be a good idea to head back to Pastor Ron's house. I don't know why I was ready to push on as always, but leave it to Travis to want extra breaks. In any case, I jumped on my bike- by this mean I crawled onto my bike slowly and with great effort- and headed back into town. Matt called his dad to come pick us up and it looked like that wasn't going to happen until about nine that night so we went to town to hang out for a bit. We walked around town and visited the local coffee shop which was fantastic. As I walked about the town with an obvious limp and signs of pain on my face- children would point and ask there mothers "what's wrong that guy?"
"oh him? He's just a bad ass"