Hiking on the Ohio & Erie Towpath

Friday, July 5, 2013
John had agreed to meet me at the Brecksville Station Road parking lot for my first hike on the Ohio/Erie Trail Towpath.  We left his car there and drove to a lot just beyond Howe Meadows in the Cuyahoga Valley National Park, a distance of 10 miles on the road, and parked the car.  It was extremely humid and the skies were threatening, so I grabbed my daypack from the trunk, loaded it with our rain gear and slung it onto my back.  I’d also brought along a tiny notepad and pen, which I tucked in a Ziploc bag and placed in my pocket.  I wanted to take notes about things I’d see and might need to know when I took the full, 120-mile hike in early September following the bike ride portion of Tour Ohio.

We were moving slowly…I’ve been figuring on covering 25 miles a day when I do the hike…by walking about 3 miles per hour.  It’s not supposed to be a workout and raise my heart rate; I just need to cover a lot of distance.  I know I’ll have 13-14 hours of daylight when I’m doing the Tour and plan to use them all by walking and riding with many stops to investigate and interview. 

We started hiking at 8:30 and there were few people on the trail, but as we approached our first hour of walking, we were hearing “on your left” from cyclists alerting us to their passing much more frequently.  I commented to John that it is not the place I’d want to ride for just this reason.  How many times to people walking dogs or simply hiking not register ‘left’ and collide with the cyclists?  If you’re cycling on the trail, I think you should be extremely cautious and not be expecting to ride too fast.  I believe most cyclists do both.

We came across a woman pushing her bike in our direction and stopped her to see if we could be of assistance.

“Something’s rubbing in the back and it won’t roll,” she said.

I’d watched her approaching and already knew the rear brakes were locked up.  I looked at her brake handle and found the cable head had broken loose. 

“This can’t be fixed out here, but we can release the brake so you can ride it with a front brake only,” I told her as we completed the task.  She thanked us and hopped aboard, riding slowly away.  We’d cautioned her that speed would not be her friend since applying front brakes only at high speed would send the rider over the handle bars.  As we watched her leave in a granny (very easy) gear, we knew there was little chance she’d ignore our warning.

The humidity was stifling and the perspiration was flowing readily as we approached the Boston Mills Visitor’s Center after two hours of hiking.  There is a little general store just off the Towpath selling ice cream, cold drinks and various snack foods.  We grabbed a drink and sat on the porch in their Adirondack chairs to watch the comings and goings of hikers, joggers, and cyclists.  One couple entered the store with more sophisticated backpacks, so when they came back out, I accosted them.

“Have you two been hiking and camping?  You look like you have a little too much gear for a simple day hike,” I said.

They were camping at the Stanford House Hostel, using one of five tent sites located on the property.  “We hiked 8 hours yesterday and saw eagles and quite a bit of wildlife,” Lily replied.  We spent the next 30 minutes talking hiking in the park, the Adirondacks and the Pacific Coast Trail, which Lily’s sister had hiked. 

Fully rested, we continued on the trail though I was starting to suffer from a rash forming between my legs where the lining of my shorts rubbed.  I hadn’t applied Vaseline as I would have in the Adirondacks because I didn’t think I’d be sweating heavily from a simple 10-mile hike with no elevation changes.  Wrong.  Part of the purpose of this and hikes that will follow is to assure that I’m properly clothed and equipped.  Live and learn.

We finished the hike in a little over four hours.  We’d timed one measured mile and found that we were moving almost exactly at 3 mph or what I hoped we’d be doing.  Numerous stops for pictures and emptying sand from shoes resulted in a slightly slower overall pace, but it left me feeling like 25 miles per day was very doable.

We’d been walking north the entire time and turned left to cross over the Cuyahoga River on the bridge to the Station Street parking lot where we’d left John’s car.  The scenic train was arriving at the station, so we hurried across the tracks to the drinking fountain.  The train was coming from the north and would be taking passengers south through the park.  A man approached us as we waited for the train to move and asked if we were from the area.  He was clearly looking for directions.

“I want to ride bikes with my family to Peninsula,” he said.

“Well…we just walked from there.  Once the train leaves, just walk across the bridge and turn right and keep going for about 6 miles,” I said while pointing past the train to where the bridge would be.

John looked at me with surprise and said to the man, “he means go to the left.”

I’ve been in this parking lot a hundred times so I knew which way the confused cyclist needed to go, but even if I’d only been there once, I’d just walked…with John…in the direction he was asking us to go.  How could he even for a second be confused about the direction?
“You’re kidding, right John?  We just walked across the bridge he needs to use.  Picture yourself walking on that trail on the other side of the river.  Which way did you turn to walk over the bridge 5 minutes ago?” I asked, sure that he would then confirm his mistake.  He didn’t.  He was adamant that I was wrong.  The stranger looked at one and then the other before deciding he needed a third opinion.  He approached one the volunteers working on the train, who confirmed what I’d told him, looked our way, shrugged and smiled. 

“Seriously John?  GOD of directions? (this is something he calls himself for his uncanny ability to remember the correct way to go in any situation…any situation that doesn’t require getting where you want to go, that is).  What’s going on in that pea-sized brain of yours?” I asked.  I love it when he’s so clearly wrong that even he can’t deny it.

The hike accomplished exactly what I’d hoped it would though.  It got me started thinking, training and planning for the third, big leg of Tour Ohio.  John agreed to do a second leg, which will finish where we started today’s walk and will likely cover 15 miles and take five hours.  Though not exhausting, my legs, feet and hips were sore.  I actually think it would have been easier on us if there had been some elevation change and climbing, but the trail is flat as a pancake. Next weekend should see my taking up that challenge.

Hike duration:  Four hours and 10 minutes.

Training Heart Rate:  75 bpm.
Calories burned during workout:  1200.