One of my favorite all time books or book of stories is “The Canterbury Tales.” I absolutely loved it when we studied it in my British Lit class in college. “Beowulf” not so much even with the movie and popular recent translation. I was fascinated by British works for some time.
I was lucky as I actually got to visit several of the real locations in “The Canterbury Tales” on a trip to England. It’s like a wanderer’s tale, all the travelers he meets along the way.
I felt like that yesterday while riding bikes along a river trail. I headed out on it with no cell service as it’s just that remote and with no maps either. I suppose I thought there would be trail markers along the way. There were mile markers and one information billboard, that was it. I didn’t think to stop and pick up a map or even look for one, just blindly hopping on my rented bike and heading out.
It was an excellent weather day. I did have extra tire tubes and tools in case I got a flat - not that I have any idea how to change a bicycle tire in the first place. I had a mountain bike, I think, with those wide thick tires.
So with extra gear in tow, a few energy bars, a cell phone useless except as a camera as there’s no cell service at all on the trail, and water, I headed out. I was looking for a specific spot on the trail. This trail had been used for the C&O railroad. It stopped being used in 1958. I don’t know when the railroad tracks where pulled up and a trail was made, but it’s a good use of a former train run in my opinion.
At first the trail was paved, then a gravel path finally ending in dirt and mud. Some places it was all the way across and wide enough for a car. Other places it was two narrow paths on either side. A lot of poison ivy bordered the trail, causing me to ride in the middle so my ankles didn’t brush the poisonous plant.
The trail runs along the river. With the lack of rain, it’s shallow now. I’ve seen it before, overflowing.
I had to make myself keep looking straight ahead and not at the river so I didn’t accidentally head down the embankment into the water. (Later on there was a rope swing and I could’ve landed in the river on purpose, but didn’t! As a kid, I would’ve been on that rope swing in a flash. Now I overthink things, (sigh)).
My intended trail sight was about 10 miles from my start point. And along the way 3, maybe 4 maybe even 5 times, I wanted to give up. Each time I stopped about ready to turn around, another biker would come along. I would ask them about the landmark and the trail. Each time they encouraged me to keep going.
I would continue forth a little longer and then get tired and stop again. A lady who passed me going the other way told me where it was, but when I didn’t find the spot 2-3 miles later I was about to give up again.
Then came along a Grandfather and his Grandson traveling the same way as me, but faster. The Grandfather had been there before and he told me we were close. A few pedals later, he stopped and handed me a map he’d found discarded on the trail. He said he didn’t need it as he had 2 maps already from his previous trail rides. He and his Grandson kept on riding and I followed way behind them.
Finally, I made it there, to the bridge crossing the river, to the old railroad tunnel underneath the thick mountain rocks. The Grandfather and his Grandson were near the riverside, having taken the steps down to it. The Grandson was on the rope swing! (He did get in the river!)
I smiled and waved at them and rode across the wooden bridge and went on through the tunnel, in the dark, and then turned around and came back. It was well worth the long trip and I was thankful for the travelers I met along the way!
After I took a few pictures, I thanked the Grandfather and Grandson for showing me the way, and then I made the long trek back probably in much faster time than on the way there. I had my own traveling Tale, my own Canterbury right beside the Greenbrier river, on a cool summer mountain day.
