© 2016 by Marisol Cruz.

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    The Great Allegheny Passage

    September 22, 2016

    I transferred from one vehicle to another on Thursday morning.


    The hand-off from Cindy to Paul. 


    Paul and I stopped at a Sheetz before our big ride.


    Seeing signs for Washington's Crossing, he pulled into a parking lot, and we unloaded the bikes.  (He brought some light snacks and water as did I.) 



    I dug for historical information and found that apparently George Washington wanted to get from one side of the bridge to the other -- end of story.  



    On further research the crossing took place during the American Revolutionary War -- kind of a big deal -- some might say.


    Apparently, Paul and I both had trouble sleeping on Wednesday night only we didn't share that information until we were a few miles into our bicycle trek.


    We pedaled exactly 37.2 miles on what's called The Great Allegheny Passage which connects Pittsburgh to Washington D.C.


    Cycling is definitely the way to see Pittsburgh.


    You don't have to deal with traffic; you don't have to deal with getting lost on all the bridges and tunnels.


    We cycled by rivers and a casino and a minimum security prison.


    We cycled through nude art installations and tree-filled canopies and old bridges.  



    We cycled by an NFL training center and American Eagle's corporate headquarters and the Battle of Homestead.  



    We cycled by steel mill relics, retail centers, and a functioning steel mill.



    Paul showed me parts of Pittsburgh most tourists don't see.


    Then, we had to turn around.


    Dinner plans were being made, and I had more people to meet.


    When we returned to the truck, our field trip had ended, and tiredness set into our muscles.


    Although we both had sleepless nights on Wednesday, that would not be the case Thursday night.


    After eating fried chicken with his wife and youngest daughter (Karen and Kimmie) and extended family (Nixon and Lily), we both crashed early in our respective quarters.


    Like a couple of middle school brats, Paul and I always have a blast; I get to relive childhood all over again.


    Tomorrow, we have the Warhol Museum planned.


    No doubt, it will be more of the same:  cracking jokes and laughter.

    Until we meet again, my friend.











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