Day 2: Keuka Lake Trip. Lehighton to Catawissa.

Day two bikepacking through Pennsylvania. I know it will be a wet one. Yesterday I managed to dodge storms, but today the downpour is inevitable. The forecast calls for soaked socks and the constant squeegeeing of touchscreens.

Lehigh Gorgeous.

Other than that, this should be a pretty easy day. There aren’t many options for rustic camping (state forests, parks, or campsites) between yesterday’s D&L Trail and tomorrow’s ride through Bald Eagle State Forest, so today will be spent largely on PA backroads. I’m targeting the Indian Head Campground just outside Catawissa, just 70 or so miles away. Feels a little conservative after yesterday, but I stick to the plan. There aren’t great camping options along the route, and while my 1000-lumen headlight is strong enough to get me out of a jam, I haven’t yet invested in a legitimate night-riding system. Pushing distance is part of this trip, but night riding has to remain out of scope.

When I say “out of scope,” it’s because I often think in terms of “layering” new challenges. I’m a lifelong biker, but have only been card-carrying “cyclist” of the lyrca-sporting variety since August 2020. Prior to this trip, I knew what it felt like to bike a century, race gravel, and to bikepack shorter overnighters. I’m far from expert in these things, but they were experiences in my toolbox nonetheless. Yesterday I combined those into a fully-laden long day. I “layered” on the new challenge of a 105 heat index. Each new experience gives me the confidence to layer on one or two unknowns next time, and then calibrate how hard I can push myself in those conditions in terms of distance, speed, and elevation. Today, I’ll find out what it feels like to do some climbing in a downpour.

After a quick grocery store detour in Jim Thorpe, I roll into the Lehigh Gorge. The last miles of the D&L Trail offer a placid start to the morning, from sweeping mountain views to lush rhododendron forest. I pass one early morning hiker, but otherwise am left alone with my thoughts and the white noise under my wheels.

After 15 miles, I hit tarmac. The clouds open up. I push a few wet, category 4 climbs. The rain shell goes on quickly, and I think about my rain pants and poncho. I’m drenched by the time it takes to consider. It’s no big deal, and next time I’ll probably leave those out of my kit altogether.

I grind on, traveling roads with and without shoulders, hoping my rear blinker and the neon bandana hanging on my saddle bag are enough to catch the attention of most all drivers. The miles wash away. Before I know it I’m buying lunch, dinner, and breakfast at the Catawissa grocery store. I arrive at Indian Head Campground by 12:30 pm.

Wait… what the hell am I supposed to do in Catawissa, Pennsylvania until bedtime? The campground is dead. There are a few quiet RVs around the perimeter. The tent area is, unsurprisingly, empty. Clearly, I am the only person around here dumb enough to go damp-camping on a Thursday. I set up my tent on a picnic table under a dry pavilion and move it to the choicest patch of soggy ground.

Then, I hoist myself on the table and settle in for a sit. I shovel food into my face, scroll the news, call my wife, call my parents, make small talk with the lady at the camp store, post on Instagram, do the crossword. I check the time. It’s 2:00 pm. This is going to be a long night.

The rain breaks for a bit, and I bolt up the road to get some more provisions: a small bottle of whiskey, some carrots and hummus, and a lighter. Back at camp, I struggle for an hour with a damp bundle of wood the camp lady sold me. No dice.

Today’s lesson: it’s much more fun to be in the saddle than on a picnic table. I will never do a day this short again. Fortunately, I’ve built options into my itinerary for tomorrow. Option A: bike a distance similar to today and sleep in Ravensburg State Park, sticking to the original five-day journey. Or Option B: put in around 100 miles the next two days, and arrive at the lake house a day early.

I have a few shots of whiskey, throw on my audio book, and drift to sleep by 7:30. I’m resolved to make this a four-day trip.

Day 3: Pine Creek Gorge or bust.

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