Day 1: Keuka Lake bikepacking trip

The early train to Yardley

I’m up before my alarm. I’m always up before my alarm. I don’t know why I even bother to set them anymore. It’s 4:30am, black outside, and I feel like a burglar with very particular taste. I sweep up the shorts, jersey and other gear laid out the night before, and skulk down the steps. Solo bikepacking is by definition a solitary event, and it can feel indulgent and a little selfish. I’m waking up to my own personal Christmas while workaday Wednesday responsibilities await my wife and the rest of the world. The hope for any solo travel is that you learn something about yourself or the world that returns an improved version of you to friends and family. But, no denying, it’s fun.

I make it to the platform for the 6:15 train to Yardley before I realize I’ve left my sunglasses on the dining table. Vacation has officially begun when you forget something important. No issue, there’s a bike shop in Easton at the fifty mile mark. I step out of Yardley Train Station just before 7:30, clip in, and head for the entrance to Delaware and Lehigh Trail just a few miles down the road.

Time to put the bike in bikepacking

My plan for the day is to make it to a carriage house AirBnB in Lehighton, about 92 miles up the D&L. I had ridden the first 50 miles of the trail back in October as an out-and-back, and knew it would be pretty easy going. The warm shower and bed I booked for this first overnight feels like a bit of a cop out, but I convince myself I’m paying a penance in mileage and heat index.

Days earlier I’d decided to bolt a couple of extra bottle cages to my fork. Water management is no problem. I lather on sunscreen, revel in the shady parts, and enjoy the man-made breeze. I’m watching a storm system ahead on radar, and so far it seems to be clearing out ahead of me. The next few days will be gray and wet, so I am thankful for the sun. Even if it is trying to kill me with heat stroke at the moment.

Complications

Near the 60 mile mark I pull out my first aid kit: saddle sores? No, just hot spots, but I’m a bit freaked out. It’s pretty early in the trip to be dealing with saddle sores. I’ve read that what starts as chafing and irritation can quickly shut down a trip if it progresses to a full blown abscess. I’ve done 60+ miles plenty of times before without issue, and haven’t made any adjustments to my bike fit or kit. But it occurs to me that those rides have been mostly in cool fall weather, never in heat and humidity like this. Sweat contains salt of course, and I’ve been sweating buckets all day. Sparing the gory details, I clean and treat the hot spots, look forward to a shower, and hope that cooler days and rain ahead will make a difference.

With about 4 miles left on the day, another surprise from my body: sudden, persistent, stabbing pain in the balls of both feet. It’s bad enough that I decide to pull over rather than push the final miles. I throw my flip flops on, and air out for ten minutes. I’m well aware that feet swell up on longer rides, but this is a special kind of awful. It subsides, and I contemplate riding the last four miles in my flip flops. However, riding a soft shoe on a clipless peddle is like intentionally stepping on Legos over and over and over again. I pull the cycling shoes back on, leave them uncinched, and soldier on.

Killing daylight

I get to my AirBnB around 3:30 pm in the afternoon, ahead of schedule. I shower, do some routine bike maintenance, and house a small pizza, large salad, and large curly fries. It’s five o’clock in Lehighton, PA. Too early in the day to go to sleep. Too early in the trip to have a drink at the dive bar up the street. And my mind is too cooked to do much else. If I had my druthers, I realize, I’d keep biking into the night for a few more miles. Maybe 20.

But there’s no good camping option between here and my next destination, Catawissa. So I review my plan for the umpteenth time. I have an awkward chat with the other (vaccinated) house guest. He seems to be staying here for a while and surviving on Powerade based on the stock of nothing but in the fridge. Eventually, I browse through the host’s eclectic DVD collection, and settle for The World’s End. It’s no Shaun of the Dead, but it does what I need it to do: kill time until I crawl into bed around 9:00. I’m eager for the sleep train to transport me to Day 2. I don’t have to wait long for it to arrive.

Read on: Day 2