July 5: Philadelphia, PA to Birdsboro, PA (56 miles)

This morning, I had a fighting chance at an uncharacteristically early start for my next stop, Birdsboro, PA.  Sadly, I lost a lot of time dealing with mechanical issues.  

Jason had very kindly directed me to a few bike shops nearby in Philly where someone with a good bike brain could fix my shifting problem. (For the past couple of days I've had difficulty shifting into my lowermost chain ring, making Pennsylvania's hills decidedly knee-unfriendly).

I stopped into Mexibikes because they open earliest (8 am!) and are very well-reviewed online. Within the hour, I was back at Jason's house, my shifting issue resolved quickly and free-of-charge.  

After Jay, Melissa and their girls left home to begin their own busy day, I stayed back and finished packing my panniers.  On the way out, I decided to top up the air in my rear tire and, always eager to create truly textbook examples of irony, instead punctured the inner tube and gave myself a flat.  Then, after I'd re-mounted the rear wheel, I found its brake was rubbing pretty egregiously against the rim and had to make further, slow adjustments.  I solved this problem for the time being, but it would return to haunt me later that day. 



A glance back at Philly before leaving



Not long after I hit the road, pizza began to sing its sweet siren song and I stopped for a two-slice lunch on the way out of Philly.  For this cyclist and ex-dietitian, this was truly a rookie mistake since I'm well aware pizza gives me "brain fog."  It took almost two hours for the mental mist to lift and with the combination of mid-day heat, my questionable dietary choice and limited sleep (10-11 hours over the past two nights) I seriously considered finding a park along the way and bedding down for a brief nap.

But I persevered.  By early afternoon I was still only about 20 miles into the day's ride.  The sun was beating down quite hard and my Camelback had begun storing warm, very bland tea instead of water.  

On Old Lancaster Road leaving Philly a guy noted my reclined pose and actually yelled, "Lazy!" as he drove past.  I had to laugh, since he had no way of knowing where this trip had started.

By 3 p.m. I reached Valley Forge State Park.  Over thousands of acres in this place, General Washington and his army encamped during the third of an eight-year struggle against the British for America's independence.  I learned that Valley Forge isn't remembered today as the site of any major military battles but rather as a testament to the courage and determination of Washington and his men as they enduredsevere hardship during their six-month (mostly winter) encampment.

I entered the park at the site of Washington's Headquarters.  The tour guide informed me that 80% of the home's structure (not the furnishings) are original to the period.  There's a clock inside, which isn't original to this house but which dates back to 1730.  He told me that Washington had his generals synchronize their watches to that clock.


Washington's office and one really old clock

Washington's Headquarters

The Father of our Country was kind of a slob.

As one might imagine, in these headquarters Washington accomplished all of his war planning.  His chief strategy was to prevail against the British in what amounted to a war of attrition.  The site emphasizes Washington's managerial skill, his mastery at overcoming logistical problems which daily threatened to bring down the Revolution.  From here, Washington and up to 25 members of his dedicated staff brought multi-tasking to incredible new heights, "issuing general orders, analyzing intelligence, maintaining peace with civilians...debriefing American spies and managing prisoner transfers."

Even while he was embroiled in the war effort, it also fell to Washington (who would not become President for another twelve years) to handle the fledgling nation's business while the increasingly weak Continental Congress took refuge in Central Pennsylvania.

It's humbling when I remember I have a hard time just getting on the road before 10 o'clock. 

Next to Washington's HQ, there's a train station which apparently still carries freight from Reading, PA.  The Reading Company built the rail line in 1842, linking Philly with vast coal fields up river.  After 1893, Valley Forge State Park became a popular tourist destination and almost all visitors traveled here by train.

Valley Forge train station

After spending about an hour at Valley Forge, my legs and brain felt a lot more like normal.  I made swift progress toward my destination despite the fact that my rear brake renewed its rubbing against the wheel in earnest about 20 miles before day's end.  Around dinnertime, my Warmshowers host for the night, Greg Marshall, provided impeccable directions by phone to his home in Birdsboro. 

Greg and Kathy Marshall don't exactly live in the center of town.  This brings to mind a truism I've noted since beginning this trip:

Whatever my day's destination, the last two to three miles of that ride will be up a long, honkin' steep hill. 

And as I struggled up the relentless incline of Cocalico Road, which snaked a couple of miles through deep woods to the rock path leading to the Marshalls' home, I must admit to thinking, "I'm just not going to find this house, and they'll never find my body." 

But I did ultimately make it, closer to sunset than I care to admit, and I knew immediately upon meeting Greg and Kathy that the day's labors had ended well.  No sooner had I arrived than I met their behemoth white Lab, Bernie, and Kathy (an OR nurse) welcomed me with a smile, cold beer, a spicy appetizer and a wonderful meatless lasagna, prepared with vegetables fresh from their garden.

Greg completed the original BikeCentennial cross-country ride in 1976 as a young lad about to start college.  He dreams of repeating the experience exactly fifty years later, once he retires from self-employment in environmental consulting. 

Kathy, Greg and I talked for hours about our various biking adventures and shared many other aspects of our lives.  I felt uniquely at home wth the Marshalls and blessed to enjoy this warm companionship. 

Greg and Bernie

The little "welcome" sign was a nice touch.