Washington Never Slept Here

Continuing south, we set our sights on Lamberstville NJ. We had arranged to meet our relatives for dinner, and for the first time since the trip began, we actually had to be somewhere at a specific time. There would be no dilly dallying along the trail this day. All morning we biked along the river, witnessing the impacts from the flood. There still was lots of clean up work still going on, and the odor of decaying vegetation and muck was strong in the air. We observed a number of homes being raised up on stilts, in some instances 20 feet off the ground. We’re uncertain as to why someone would want to remain in such a flood prone location. We had learned that the Delaware had left its banks 4 times in the past 10 years, so the deluge of 2006 was far from an isolated occurrence. Again, we were pleasantly surprised that the roadway was in relatively good shape, and we did not need to detour from the route at all.

Periodically, we climbed out of the river valley into the surrounding farmlands. At this time of year, the silage corn was being harvested, and for the first time we encountered soy beans in the fields. Roadside farm stands had virtually disappeared, and those that we found no longer had much produce to sell; only offering pumpkins, flowers and gourds. Apparently, we had reached a point where the harvest had been complete. It will be interesting to see if we find more produce as we venture south.

In Frenchtown NJ we left the route and took the bike path alternative, riding atop the old tow path of the D&R Canal (Delaware and Raritan rivers) for the next 17 miles.

During the early nineteenth century, when the United States entered into the industrial revolution, canals were built as transportation routes to link resources, manufacturing centers and markets. The D&R Canal was built across central New Jersey to provide an efficient and safe route for transporting freight between Philadelphia and New York. Since boats could navigate the Delaware River to Bordentown and the Raritan River to New Brunswick, those two cities were selected as the canal's two terminuses. To supply water to the main canal at its highest elevation in Trenton, a feeder canal was dug from Bull's Island on the Delaware River south to Trenton. Construction of the D&R Canal began in 1830. Laborers - the majority of whom are believed to have been migratory Irish immigrants - were hired to dig, mostly by hand, the main canal and its feeder.

By the end of the 19th century, canal use was declining throughout the country. The speed and power of the railroad overtook the romance of the canal era. The D&R Canal's last year of operation at a profit was 1892, but is stayed open through the 1932 shipping season. After the canal closed, the State of New Jersey took it over and rehabilitated it to serve as a water supply system - a purpose it still serves today. In 1973, the canal and its remaining structures were entered on the National Register of Historic Places. In 1974, over 60 miles of the canal and a narrow strip of land on both banks were made a state park. A portion of the Belvidere-Delaware Railroad corridor from Bull's Island to Frenchtown was added to the park in the 1980s. The park's trail system was designated a National Recreation Trail in 1992.

The trail consists of hard pack crushed stone, and it is literally a corridor between in between the trees, with views of the canal and river along side. It’s easy, if not somewhat monotonous pedaling, and it quickly brought us to our evening’s destination, Lambertsville. That night we enjoyed a wonderful dinner and reunion with our cousins as we dined at a fine restaurant in town, enjoying the fine food and pleasure of each others company.

The next morning we awoke early and headed across the Delaware for the last time, crossing into Pennsylvania and Buck’s county. For the first two hours of the day we pedaled along wooded backcountry lanes that periodically opened up to grand vistas of the surrounding countryside. The architecture showed a marked change, as most of the homes were made from stone. Old historic homes are still to be seen, although they are being overshadowed by the mansions of the newer “settlers” that have popped up everywhere. Bucks County is a relatively short drive to Philadelphia, and we speculated that many of the new landowners were either commuters or part time residents. It was obvious that their wealth was not being generated from working the land.

Countryside gave way to suburban sprawl, and we found this to be the most taxing and difficult day of the trip. Navigating this map section required no less than 17 major changes of course, as the route attempted to guide us safely through the increasingly congested area. Periodically we found ourselves on major roadways that were crowded with cars heading towards the numerous shopping centers that dotted the landscape. It was like riding a bike in a video game, with unseen obstacles and danger lurking around every turn. Our goal for the day was to simply follow the map as best we could, and get as far away from the mess as possible. Unable to locate a campground anywhere in this suburban setting, we set our goal for Norristown PA. The map indicated that there were at least two hotels where we could find refuge, and we figured that we could get a good nights rest and head out the next day for Valley Forge.

Arriving into Norristown, we took a left on Main Street and headed downtown towards the first hotel on the list. It became very evident that Norristown had seen better days. Urban, inner city type decay was evident everywhere. Bars and cages on shop fronts indicated that we were not in the most genteel neighborhoods. Mary Ellen inspected the only room available at the first hotel listed and declared it unfit for human habitation. Before venturing much further, we called the second listing and inquired of availability. We were told that all rooms were “smoking”, located above the bar, and we had the option of renting them by the hour, day, or week. Thanks but no thanks.

Up to this point, it had been a trying day. Now it was just plain ridiculous. We reviewed our options. There were a number of hotels out on Route 202, but they were on 4 lane hi speed roads, unreachable by bike. Philadelphia was only 12 miles away, and could be reached by the Schuykill River Bike trail, but it had no appeal to us. This was no place for us to be sleeping outdoors. Finally, we just stopped where we were and went into a local gift shop to ask for suggestions and advice as to where to stay. We’ve learned that when all else fails, we could rely on the wisdom and kindness of strangers to guide us along.

Describing our dilemma to the local shopkeeper and her customers, it was suggested that we head directly to Valley Forge, which was only a few miles to the west on the bike trail. There were plenty of places to stay there. It was easy to get to, and we could be there in 30 minutes. You could have knocked us over with a feather. How come we didn’t think of that? Well, the answer lies in the fact that we have been totally reliant on using the Adventure Cycling maps. The map for section 2 ends in Norristown and had no information about Valley Forge (which is on section 3, a different map). The section 3 map was buried deep within our waterproof packs, and we had never even considered that we would need to look at it until the following day. Also, we never bothered to carry a state highway map with us, as we felt that all we needed to know was on the ACA map. Suffice it to say, we now carry our maps where they are easily accessible, and we pick up a state roadmap as soon as we cross a border. A hard lesson learned.

Checking into the Radisson in Valley Forge, we figured that we would be paying a bundle but at that point, beggars couldn’t be choosers. Matt stood outside while Mary Ellen checked in. She came out of the door with a big grin on our face. The room charge was only $79, and because we were traveling by bike, they gave us a free upgrade, declaring that Mary was “Queen for a Day”. We stowed Olga and BOB in the bell captains closet, and took the elevator to the top. We then walked up the stairs to the “penthouse” floor where we were struck by a most curious sight. The rooms to each door had paintings on them depicting some sort of fantasy theme. We saw the “Shogun” room, with a demure geisha smiling at you, “Gilligan Island” room with the prerequisite palm tree and tropical isle, etc. Ours was the “Elizabethan” room, with the Queens coat of arms promonently displayed. Inserting our key into the slot, we were dumbfounded upon entering the room. We had been given a honeymoon suite, complete with a mirrored Jacuzzi in the bedroom, as well as an oversized king sized canopy bed complete with a mirror on the ceiling. We laughed and laughed until our sides hurt. How ironic…here we were in the shadow of Valley Forge where Washington and the Continental army endured a winter of unspeakable hardship and suffering, having been anointed King and Queen for the day. The folks at the front desk had a damn good sense of humor. While there are many locations in the mid Atlantic states that housed our first president for a night or two, we think that we can say with certainty that Washington never, ever, slept here.