Facing the Trail, Stoically

I was biking south today.  They’ve got the road blocked off at Bridge Creek Road.  It’s been two weeks now and it appears that absolutely nothing has been done to advance this effort.  There are never any workers here.  Nothing industrious appears to be happening up ahead.  My mind turns to the famous story of the friendship bridge which China and Russia recently undertook.  China threw up their portion in a matter of months and the bridge came to a mournful halt in the middle of what I assume was the Amur River.  The Russians took another few years to get their bit done. 

The last time I saw it I looped to the left and went down underneath to consider the planks that had been removed.  Some nets had been placed. It looked pretty desolate.  Returning back underneath there was a lone workman who unlocked a gate and, to my eyes, just walked around.  I expect this bridge will probably be impassable now for many months.  America’s days of repairing bridges quickly, ended many years ago. 

Today I cut down Bridge Creek Road, as they recommend.  This is in parts, wonderful and ominous, as I’ll need to return up this downhill dash that quickly sets the fifteen speed bike well passed the point of capturing any traction.  One house has built out a nice lawn above a creek, another and in-ground pool.  Soon I have to pedal and then pedal hard.  At Old Ford Road I go left and repeat the downhill dash and then confront a punishing uphill stretch.  I’ve been spoiled for the last year rolling along the fine, flat, rail trial.  At some point I call it a day and walk it the final fifty feet to the summit. 

At the top it’s a nice glide past some tall lawn trees and abandoned barns, down to Philiies Bridge Road.  Friday, I feel free.  I ride back up the rail trail knowing I wont get through.  I’d like to see the bridge work or lack thereof, from the other side.  One the way down I did a double take and stopped.  A fifteen-pound lady snapping turtle was standing up, facing the trail stoically.  Behind her lay a small mound of soft dirt.  There was a similar space not far off, up the trial and it occurred to me as I walked quietly towards what was now obviously a her, was that she was laying eggs.  I snapped a few photos and left her in peace, a bit worried that the next people who passed by, perhaps with dogs, might not be so accommodating.

Friday, 6/05/20