This morning we heard that bones had been found by ATV riders off Marshwood Road, in an area where we sometimes go mountain biking. These stories typically cause all kinds of alarm until it’s discovered that the bones in question are from a deer carcass or something else non-human. (Although no aliens have yet been found, to my knowledge.)

After a Mexican lunch—that would have been Japanese instead, were the Japanese place open on Mondays—with John, Rich and I took the long way home past the “bones.” We stopped for a quick photo of the commotion, including the CSI Winnebago, and were quickly descended upon by local news reporters anxious to fill some air time with profound quotes from the locals. We declined the interview, even though they’d already buttered us up with the typical leading questions and were practically begging us to say something on camera.

We did learn from them that the bones had just been confirmed to be human. I’m sure they wanted their usual “This is such a quiet place, I can’t believe any foul play would go on around here” sound bite. (It would be interesting if someone just once would say, “Oh, this kind of thing happens all the time up here! It’s about time someone found the evidence!”)

… A quick snapshot of the crime scene.

The string of gorgeous, sunny, 80°+ days we’ve had this month has been truly unbelievable and most welcome. Unable to resist getting out for one more ride before a cold front comes through for the weekend, Rich and I loaded the bikes on the car and drove to the top of Moosic Mountain (we’re not yet ready to ride up there and then ride some more!) for a morning of exploration.

We parked at the smaller lot south of Moosic Lake Road, crossed the road and headed north and then northeast along the wooden powerline. While overall gaining in elevation, this section has plenty of gently rolling hills. It was still and peaceful this morning along the powerline. I detected a piney scent in the air from time to time. Unfortunately, the next part of the ride, after turning to the northwest, wasn’t so peaceful. The Game Kommission has made a sickening mess of this section of the powerline and it’s now a bog of deep, viscous mud. After bouncing and rolling for a few hundred yards, we fought our way out of the mud and then through scrub oak to reach one of the gravel roads of the preserve. Vowing next time to explore the numerous side trails we spotted along the way, we rode the gravel road southwest to the main parking area, where we chatted briefly with a mountain biker who had passed us earlier. We then completed our loop by riding back up Moosic Lake Road to the car.

… We admired the view from one of the fire roads in the preserve.

… Mud is EVIL! says Rich (and Zhanna)!

While Rich cleaned up, I took a quick ride out on the Cliff Trail and back. It was much less rocky than the other trails we explored today, and with several offshoot trails to investigate it will be worth checking out on another warm, sunny morning.

I’d love to explore the preserve further. We’ll know now to avoid the mud bog, and we’ll check out the singletrack on the Spring Trail. I like having an interesting and challenging place to ride so close to home!

Heathens that we are, Rich and I had the Lehigh Gorge trail to ourselves … completely … this Easter Sunday morning. While everyone else was apparently searching for baskets, hiding eggs, falling asleep in church or whatever else they do on this holiday, we enjoyed an absolutely blissful morning on a trail that would never typically be deserted on a sunny, warm weekend day. The usual springtime green is still a long way off, but the sun removed the morning chill rapidly in a way that reminded me of a dry June day. We rolled quietly, unimpeded, all the way to Penn Haven Junction. I checked the benchmark while Rich soaked up the sun with a grin on his face.

It wasn’t until much later, well into the afternoon and halfway through our return trip north, that we began to encounter people on the trail arriving by ones and twos and then whole families. The spell of the day was broken, at least for us, and we rode into the White Haven parking area to find it nearly full, as usual. For a few hours, at least, we’d owned this enchanted area.

One drawback to adventuring on a holiday is the lack of snacking options. Nothing in White Haven, including the pizza place or the bar at the end of Susquehanna Street, was open. We called several other places, including the Tipsy Turtle, to find them all closed. Our last hope was Taqueria Oaxaca—and the Mexicans came through for us! I think we crashed some kind of a Mexican Easter party when we arrived. The mood was festive and the music was loud and we were the only non-Mexicans within a mile of the place, but we still felt welcome. I thoroughly enjoyed my tacos dorados de pollo, and Rich devoured his huarache. The melon agua fresca is almost as refreshing as beer after a long ride. Rich and I shared a lot of laughs today.

… Rich and Zhanna enjoy the sunshine at the bridge at Penn Haven Junction.

… This rocky ledge overlooking the river is a good place to stop for a snack!