Bikepacking adventure — Few but simple

Over the summer I damn-near ran myself empty; not enough sleep, too much self-imposed stress, and skipping out on the things that make me happy. I was either too tired or too busy to get out on my bike during some of the best nights of the season. It was a great summer honestly, but I would have traded anything for more hours in the day.

A couple of my bike buddies invited me to tag along with them for a weekend bikepacking trip. What great timing, I desperately needed to step away from the computer.

I inherited crippling anxiety about being on time from my father. I tend to waste any extra time I give myself, so, of course, I left way too early.

I left home and headed east on the Washington and Old Dominion (WOD) multi-use path when the sun came up. It was going to be a long day on the bike. From home to the rendezvous point in Georgetown is about 30 miles, so because I am a sane person I only rode a portion of the way. It's easy to take for granted that the Metro runs parallel to much of the WOD. I jumped onto the metro after riding a little over half of the distance.

Blue Bottle Coffee, our designated meeting point, is a west coast based coffee shop that caters to clients of the hipster persuasion. The Georgetown clientele doesn't match the stereotypical hipster aesthetic, but then again, neither do four adults wearing cycling kit. Part of the allure of the trip is to escape the norm, and let loose. Your escape could take the form getting away from the drudgery of everyday life, or it could be wearing a cowboy hat instead of a helmet. We had all the bases covered.

I don't think Blue Bottle Coffee was quite ready for our enthusiasm. In retrospect, I feel a bit bad. Actually, not really, but I should.

And like that, we were off. The plan was never really finalized. We were going to ride west on the C&O canal and stop at some point to camp for the night. That was about as concrete of a plan as we were bothered to assemble. Email chatter the days leading up to our adventure mentioned something about camping in a cave, but that never happened. That's another story altogether.

I can't remember how long it took us to ride the 70 miles to our campsite, but we made it there. The pace was mostly casual over the rutted, often muddy trail. Stops were frequent. Either when we needed water, food, or just to goof around. Breaks in the foliage treated us to stunning views of the Potomac River. The group was ready to stop when we did, just outside of Shepherdstown, West Virginia. Our chosen campsite was a narrow strip of land designated as a reserved campsite. We settled in for the night.

It was a temperate early fall night, but despite that none of us slept particularly well. The canopy above rained acorns onto us at random times throughout the night. In the early morning, a heavy fog rolled in, and with it, a thick dew. The dew collected on everything from the bikes to our backpacks. Wet clothes from the day before never got a chance to dry out.

The start of day 2 had a somber tone to it. The previous day's ride and the night had taken a toll on the group. I'm glad that our return began so leisurely. The casual pace gave me the chance to watch the fog reveal the surrounding beauty. Day 2 was long, humid, grueling, but worth every minute.

In retrospect, I don't have as much to say about the second day. Not because it was any less fun or exciting, but rather because I allowed myself to enjoy it more. And I did.