Blistering Biking and Beers in Baltimore

I'd spent nearly all week off work and flat on my back, swallowing heavy duty painkillers as avidly as an addict and trying, when able, to work from home. I have no idea how I put my back out but it's been agony and very foolishly I thought a bike ride would solve the problem. I was meeting up with Richard and Emily to cycle Gwynns Falls Trail in Baltimore, and not having seen them for a while, and also knowing beer would be consumed at some point, I had no intention of letting a few bruised vertebrae stop my fun. I was in desperate need of some enjoyment after 4 days of sleeping, watching rubbish TV and having Rosie Lee lay on me at every possible moment. It took me a while to pump up the bike tires and load it into the back of Stanley the night before and I fretted if I was really doing the right thing. But the next morning I could walk almost upright to the kitchen and excitedly drove to our meeting point.

 All the bikes were loaded on to the back of Richard's car and I was glad to have the back seat to myself so I could fidget about as my back started twinging and even lay down if absolutely necessary, but I didn't want to do this and advertise my discomfort. I was glad when we finally got on the bikes. I loved that my jewelry and nails matched the Green Genie but I was even more ecstatic when I stretched out to hold my handlebars, noting immediately how good my back felt in the riding position. I hoped this would last the ride. The total mileage would be 28 miles and I was feeling optimistic. Richard put a white handkerchief on his head under his helmet to avoid sunburn through the latticed openings, making me giggle as I mentally pictured the pretty pattern it would have made on his noggin.

We started alongside the Patapsco River, passing a lady painting on the grass while a guy with headphones was strumming an electric guitar. Then we were cruising along Baltimore roads, following train tracks and enabling me to take a photo of the Baltimore chimney. I've passed this so many times over the years when driving on I95, but never had the opportunity to grab a photo, so it was fabulous to get up close and personal today. It felt great to stretch my back, the aches and pains disappeared as I leaned over the frame, the first time in days that I was pain free, but whenever we stopped it hurt to dismount so I tried to stay mobile.

  There was a beer festival setting up as we pedaled past tents and kegs. I stopped at seeing what looked like the Liberty Bell, but was in fact a bell to commemorate the 52 Marylanders who'd lost their lives in Afghanistan. I wasn't quite sure why it was here but was glad I'd seen it. We also admired a huge mural on a building by the site. It was getting incredibly hot so pausing for too long wasn't an option. At least while we were moving we could feel a breeze but staying stationery the sun's heat felt like my skin was going to crisp up and start peeling. It was intense with the humidity so thick it was like standing in a cloud of water vapor when we were still.

 We passed through quiet streets after the Ravens stadium, old buildings, some derelict, that warranted a detour up streets to see if any could be accessed. I wasn't too enthusiastic about urbexing today, the less walking I did the better, but it's always good to scout for future trips. Montgomery Park is an impressive building. Now redeveloped we had tried to enter it unsuccessfully many years ago while it was abandoned. An iconic art deco warehouse, it's been beautifully restored.

We left the busy streets and started riding on a trail following a creek. Initially, it was ugly, the previous flood damage apparent with every tree on the banks littered with torn plastic bags hanging from their branches, tattered and torn ugly pennants displaying Baltimore's pollution problem. Bottles and cans were caught up in the lower branches with broken twigs and grasses. I often got whiffs of the rotting trash that made me wrinkle my nose, so sad to see nature desecrated like this. Somebody had been fly tipping, leaving a pile of mattresses and chairs. The only time I smelled something pleasant was when another cyclist puffed past me, leaving a cloud of aftershave in his wake, he'd likely only just started his ride. He too seemed to be lacking in power as he weaved up a small hill. Emily spotted a great blue heron which astounded us, it seemed little could live in the putrid water. We kept pedaling but about 4 miles from the end of the trail, my energy was waning. I suppose after 4 days of pain and heavy pain meds my body wasn't performing well. I started feeling chilled and dizzy so had to stop under a shady tree where I dropped to the cool grass and laid out to ease my back. I had no energy, which really annoyed me, but I had to admit defeat. I told Richard and Emily to continue without me and I would start my on way back to the car. I even thought that I might have to call an Uber car to take me and the bike back to the parking lot but I started off on the return trip, hoping to make it on my own steam.

I hadn't realized until making my way back that we had actually been riding up a gradual incline most of the way so the return trip was much easier. I stopped for water breaks and strangely felt a lot better, wondering if maybe I could have made it to the end with them after all. Flocks of robins fluttered across the trail, squawking under the trees, likely new adult birds who were still expecting to be fed by their parents. There were very few people using the trail, but I was glad to be outdoors instead of cooped up inside, despite my surroundings not being the usual beautiful scenery I'm accustomed too on my rides and hikes, and for the probably millionth time I counted my blessings at living in the countryside.

As I once again entered the city streets I passed few pedestrians,hardly anyone was out. There was an Orioles game playing at the nearby stadium and I wondered if the locals were indoors with their cool AC blasting, chugging down icy beers while watching TV sets. I was tempted to knock on the door of the Ravens house just to see, they were obviously die hard Baltimore sports fans.

This used to be Bayard Street Station. It's now an architectural salvage store, so wonderful to see that its current owners have restored it to its full glory, looking just as it used to when it was a gas works.

I did lose my way for a bit, not concentrating on the green markers below me on curbs and the road, and had to backtrack when I found myself passing signs for the interstate. I stopped while a train passed, pulling at least a thousand empty carriages, or at least that was what it seemed like as I baked and sweated under the relentless sun, and then slogged my way through almost empty streets. There are so many railroad tracks crossing the streets of Baltimore that I lost count of how many I passed over. The sun beating down felt hotter than the heat from an oven and I was a very happy camper when I finally arrived back at the parking lot. I had cycled about 18 miles while Richard and Emily clocked up about 26.

My back was very sore, screaming out to be in a horizontal position. A couple of trees offered shade on a grassy bank. Under one was a flock of about 12 ducks, resting and quacking quietly among themselves. I pushed my bike slowly and carefully past them, to claim the second tree. They looked at me but realized I was no threat and so carried on dozing. I collapsed on to my back, relishing the cool, hard ground through my shirt. But my pleasure was short lived. After only a minute or so I became a smorgasbord for biting flies who persistently nipped at my arms and legs. Smothering my skin with a thick greasy layer of sunscreen only kept them away for a few more minutes, and then they were biting me through my clothes. I was so pleased to see the others when they showed up.

We drove to a brewery nearby which was celebrating its opening that day. Unfortunately the beer was unimpressive. But the brewery did have a lovely monarch butterfly on its wall, like the one I'd painted on Friday evening.

Unfortunately I soon became restless. The taproom was packed with people, loud voices drowning out any chance of conversation between us and no seats available. My back was screaming in pain but I said nothing, just swaying from foot to foot until we finally escaped back to the car. We drove to nearby Ellicott City to inspect the recent flood damage but the town was closed off.

We peered through the chain link fencing, noting the FEMA markings on the buildings where they'd inspected each house and store for damage and possible bodies. I have never visited this town before but wondered if now I'd ever get the chance to see it properly. The poor inhabitants have had too many floodings and I'm sure there's many who don't have the resources or incentive to rebuild once again what they had only just recently restored after the 2016 floods. Some say that because there has been so much development since 1984 the increase of paved roads and buildings has deterred natural drainage, but others are adamant that because of the towns geographical location and climate change the floods are unavoidable.
We left the town, having to drive back into Baltimore to hopefully pick up Richard's bike wheel. He'd taken it off to load our bikes on to his bike frame but had then driven off, leaving the wheel in the parking lot. We were ecstatic to see it still laying there when we returned a good hour later, in perfect condition. Our final stop was the new Guinness Brewery in Baltimore, the first in the United States since the 50's.

We tried samples of most of the beers they offered but again I wasn't overly impressed, preferring the original recipe. Maybe my enthusiasm was waning due to my poor back. At least this time I had a seat but I was itching to lay down on the floor and stretch out my compressed vertebrae. The cold concrete floor looked so inviting. I kept silent, not wanting to sully the others' enjoyment, and soldiered on for the sake of beer! My favorite photo of the day was of a black vulture we spotted in the window of an abandoned house we stopped at. Richard, to my relief, decided we shouldn't enter in case she had eggs she was protecting. I'm sure the burning sun and humidity played a large part in his lack of enthusiasm to explore but Emily and I didn't complain, and she was left in peace. It was late at night when I eventually got home and my memory foam mattress with the AC blowing over me never felt so good. Despite the aches I'd enjoyed the day, the pain definitely taking a back seat as far as enjoying the company of friends was concerned. I'd do it again in a heartbeat, but maybe a little sojourn at Meadow House first...