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Dirt Church Base Camp

Greg Nass put together a great visual from AI for this version of Dirt Church. The Christian men’s mountain bike group has had 4 outings so far this year and the fifth Base Camp version in the Laurel Highlands of Western Pa had a lot of surprises. The annual Adventurefest was cancelled this year, but the crew from Dirt Church wanted to at least get together for some rides, some overnight camping at Boyers Pond, and some fellowship that would be missed without Adventurefest. So, a group of us packed all our stuff, and headed to the Laurel Highlands Friday afternoon to set up the camp sites, ride, and then have a great dinner at the Fat Squirrel in Jennerstown

We didn’t count on the torrential thunderstorm that came blowing in right after we set up our tents. The rain fly on my tent held up under Biblical storms, and fortunately the inside of my tent was dry. We made the call to head to the Fat Squirrel for dinner and as usual, we were not disappointed. The food there is superb and if you find yourself in Jennerstown Pa, their vegan options as well as regular fare are second to none.

Vegan mushroom tacos are not to be missed at The Fat Squirrel.

Sometimes you just have to punt, go eat and re-arrange the schedule a little bit. The next surprise was when we were discussing the nearby Flight 93 Memorial. Many of us had been there and it is a somber and emotional experience if you have never been. But Greg told us about the memorial rose garden just up the road and we called another audible and visited what was one of the most beautiful rose gardens I have ever seen. We went on a little hike through and around the gardens and again, Dirt Church Base Camp had another surprise for us. It gave us all something to think about and we said a prayer for that brave flight crew and passengers who will always live in infamy in the Laurel Highlands.

My surprisingly dry tent
The obligatory campfire

Returning from a great meal and an unexpected hike after dinner, we built a camp fire, sat around and had a lot of discussion about the state of country, what we can do as Christian men to advance the Kingdom, and reminisced about our friend Bob Anderson who is now two years passed. Bob attended Adventuremen two years ago, and had his camper parked right in our spot this weekend. He was tragically killed in North Park riding his mountain bike over a downed high voltage electric line. I posted on this previously, but we all remarked how Bob was with us and then 8 days later was gone. But he had a strong faith and although we miss him, we know he is with the Lord. There are no guarantees in life and the Adventuremen and Dirt Church discussions testify to that…….around the campfire.

Saturday morning greeted us with brilliant sunshine and although we expected muddy trails and slimy roots and rocks, we knew that riding the Q or the Quemahoning Reservoir Trails would be a real treat. Another surprise awaited us in the current Base Camp mode, as John Casuccio led us on the ride in the reverse direction to which we were all accustomed to riding. There were some pretty nasty climbs that tested this old guy who is still riding on an analog mountain bike. E- Bikes are looking attractive, but I have not gone there yet. However, there were some climbs where I could have used a little assist. But then again, no pain- no gain as they say.

Riding through the creek at the Q

Dirt Church riding is challenging because usually good riders show up. Along with challenging places to ride, the Dirt Church events are not for the faint of heart. But the good thing about this group is that it is no drop, and everyone waits for each other because racing is not the theme of the event. Riding with friends and having fellowship on the trails is first and foremost. If you come to a Dirt Church event, you can be prepared to be challenged. But know that you will never be left behind, in more ways than one. These guys are regular guys and are happy to discuss faith, families, and will assist, as you let them, with personal struggles. They are a caring group of sinners who can ride. Come out to one of the events and join a fun group. You will sleep under the stars sometimes, ride some challenging routes, eat some fabulous food and enjoy an overall experience that will bring you back – over and over again. Plus- Dirt Church has some pretty sweet swag thanks to Greg Nass. Hats, shirts, stickers, etc. Thanks for reading and follow the blog at http://www.chroniclesofmccloskey.com. It helps me.

” Be still and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations. I will be exalted in the earth.” Psalm 46:10

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From the Best of Chronicles of McCloskey

The Starlit Canopy
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An Aquatic Reunion

The reunion of Allegheny YMCA swimmers.

Thanks to Mary Jo Geyer Burdett, a group of folks who swam at the Allegheny YMCA swim team got together this past weekend for a fun reunion. I am not much one for reunions, but I wanted to attend this one because many of these folks I have not seen in close to 60 years. At least 57 years. One of the reasons for my enthusiasm was that I spent a lot of time as a kid with a lot of these people and their families. The swim team at the Allegheny Y on the Northside of Pittsburgh and the community swim clubs in the North Hills of Pittsburgh were actually joined at the hip. You swam in the summer for the teams in the community swim clubs, and at the YMCA and that league in the winter, and it really was the lifeblood of all of our families. Swim practices and meets were the focal point of social relationships for many families at that time, and the anchor founder of that movement was Don Geyer- Mary Jo, Claudia, Joe, Jeff, and Don Jr’s father.

Coach Don Geyer on the right back in the day.

As we all gathered around in the Allegheny Y gym this weekend, we told countless stories about our fun times at the community swim clubs and at the Y, but most of the stories were focused around what Don Geyer had done for all of us. There were great stories about how he was a famous square dance caller, a coach and teacher at Shaler High School, but most of our stories centered around his work with us as young swimmers. He encouraged us and our families to come to the Allegheny Y after the summer swim season was over at the community pools. People like Don Geyer are legendary in their status. His selfless attitude and willingness to coach and help young people is a trait that few people are willing to commit to. Don did that and more and the stories were countless among people who came from all over the country for the reunion.

The Allegheny Y was a special place to me. I went there originally when I was about 7 or 8 years old with my grandfather who was a member. Then I started to swim there on the team coached by Don Geyer, Pat Phelan and Cliff Quigley. Those days were really my first entry into organized competition and swimming the breaststroke was my contribution to the team. Johnny Kane, Dru Duffy, the Roses, and I were the duckfooted breaststrokers, and it was so much fun to reconnect with John Kane at the reunion. It was also great to reconnect with Jimmy Manning, my childhood pal at Valley Brook. We swam together and it had been 57 years at least since I had last seen him.. He and his wife Sandra came up from South Carolina. The Kane girls were all there. Joan, Karen, and Debbie,and we had great laughs and remembrances about how special Valley Brook, The Y and Don Geyer were to all of us. Bill Ford came all the way from Eugene, Oregon because he wanted to see all of this and be with his pals from long ago. Colleen Trew Geyer was there along with Ray Burdett, who is married to Mary Jo Geyer. Ray and Colleen and I skied together for many years and they are still active in different athletic pursuits. I met some people that I did not know at the reunion but by the time we finished our meal at Max’s Allegheny Tavern, we felt as though we had been friends all along.

The story circle

I must admit that when I went out to my car after the great tour of the Y, and the fellowship of my fellow swimmers after all these years, I was a little overwhelmed. I actually started to tear up a bit, because my memories came flooding back after all these years. I am not sure whether the emotion was because I was remembering a lot from my youth and now I realize that I am in the fourth quarter? Or, perhaps it was the joy of seeing all of those old friends who even after all these years, still seem close to me and a big part of my life? This was one reunion I was not going to miss, and I was so happy Mary Jo, Ray and Claudia put it all together.

The Allegheny YMCA is 100 years old this year and it was great to see the renovations that have made the building a recreational focal point on the North Side. The staff there was so welcoming to our group and were taken back a little bit when they heard all the old stories and how much the Y had meant to us. They also were touched by all the memories of Don Geyer, who they did not know obviously, but could appreciate the dedication of a life- long coach and teacher.

I remember Don teaching me to swim as a 5 year old at Valley Brook, and then, a little later on, at my mother’s instruction, throw me in the deep end so I could pass my swimming test. This was much to the chagrin of my mom’s friends but as she said, ” that water will get deeper and deeper every year.” To this day, I am glad my mother prevailed and glad that Don threw me into the deep end – in reality and metaphorically. His coaching will always be a part of my character- 58 years later. Thanks for reading.

Please follow the blog on http://www.chroniclesofmccloskey.com It helps me.

“Have the courage to face weakness. God’s power is made perfect there.” 2 Corinthians 12:9

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From the Best of Chronicles of McCloskey

Mountain Bikes and Bluegrass Music
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History Rolling Down the Tracks

In my lifetime, I have seen a lot of technology. From desktop computers, to laptops, to I- Phones, to Smart Watches, to nuclear power, to electric vehicles, to new lunar video by a manned spacecraft. This, and so much more have been transitioning our way of life into more efficiency, more comfort, and more reliability. But sometimes you get a glimpse back in time and see something that was truly avant garde for the period and a mechanical wonder built in 1941 and still rolling. The Union Pacific Railroad’s “Big Boy” is the largest steam powered train in existence today and I got to see if live and up close this past weekend.

Built to transport heavy freight in the mountains at the beginning of WWII, the Big Boy weighed in at 1.2 million operating pounds and roughly 133 feet long. Originally designed as a steam locomotive, running on coal, it now has been transitioned to number 5 fuel oil, but still the largest steam powered engine in the world. At one time is held between 28 and 32 tons of coal, with a water capacity of 25,000 gallons.

Photo by Mark “the Shark” Sauers
Photo by Mark “Shark” Sauers

I really made an effort to go down to Leetsdale, Pa to see the Big Boy rolling through on it’s way back out west to where the tour began in California. The trans- continental run was celebrating the 250th anniversary of the founding of our country, and it was a welcome sight with a little bit of effort on my part after a mountain bike ride up at Laurel Mountain, and various and sundry subsequent errands on a Saturday afternoon. I was sure happy to see this piece of mechanical history rolling through, not far from my home.

I have always been fascinated by steam powered locomotives like when I took a ride on the Shay locomotives in Cass, West Virginia. The Shay #4 was built in 1922 and the Shay #6 was built in 1945 and were primarily used to haul logs for the operations of the West Virginia Paper Company. Like the Big Boy, Shay #6 is heavy, weighing in at 162 tons and similarly used to haul heavy payloads in the mountains. The cool thing about the Shay trains is that you can ride them in an open -air passenger car. My group would load our mountain bikes on the train and sit in the open -air car and experience the power of the Shay engine up the mountain to the top of Bald Knob. From there we would exit the train and ride the 25 mile MTB route back to Cass and eventually the Elk River Touring Center where we were staying in Slaty Fork, West Virginia. We had many rides on that train as part of the Elk River’s West Virginia Fat Tire Festival. Oftentimes on the descent, there was a lot of rain, and the comfort of the covered passenger car was soon replaced by the roaring Elk and Greenbrier Rivers at crossings that were manned by the Snowshoe Ski Patrol to make sure we could get safely across. I remember those days when the ski patrol had ropes stretched across the river crossings and we had to carry out bikes on our shoulders and grab the rope at the same time in order not to be swept downstream. The West Virginia Fat Tire Festival was always eventful and for me, the highlight, even ahead of the riding, was the ride on the Shay locomotive powered train in Cass.

The Shay locomotive in Cass, West Virginia.

Getting back to the Big Boy viewing for a moment, perhaps one of the most memorable things, aside from the raw power and noise of the engine, was the huge crowd that had gathered to witness the passage. I had heard that all along the route, from coast to coast, people would line the tracks, carrying US flags, and having and unbridled enthusiasm for the celebration. The crew on the train commented that everywhere they had traveled on the tracks all over the country, people were so enthusiastic about the event of Big Boy coming through their town. As I looked at our crowd, I saw Americans. I didn’t see political or philosophical differences, but we were all happy to be Americans cheering on a machine that represented all that was good about America. As the 250th has come and gone, it was refreshing to see everybody with the same happiness and enthusiasm for the Big Boy and it’s crew. There was something in that moment that made me think that with all the division in this country, we still have a lot of similarities in that we recognize America as our home and something to be proud of. The smiles on the faces of the children, the adults, and the crew of Big Boy told me that all was somehow good with the world. I felt part of a big event that was larger than the differences that we all have. Saturday, we all transcended that and we all became one as we waited for the whistle signaling the arrival of the Big Boy.

My group at one of the Fat Tire Festivals.

For all of you mountain bike riders out there, take a trip to Cass, take in the history videos there and then board your bike and ride the Shay locomotive to the top of Bald Knob. And if you are not a hiker or a mountain bike rider, go anyways. Experience the history of the country’s steam powered locomotives and enjoy history on the tracks in the mountains. Thanks for reading.

Please follow the blog on http://www.chroniclesofmccloskey.com It helps me.

” How good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity. Psalm 133:1

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From the Best of Chronicles of McCloskey

The End of an Era
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From the Best of Chronicles of McCloskey

The Colorado Relay
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No More on the Road

Riding with the incomparable Greg Lemond

This time of year, I am reminded of how much I miss road cycling. I remember when I first got interested in road cycling was when I decided to ride to North Park from my childhood home on Siebert Road. I borrowed my sister’s bike and made the trek to North Park. I was exhausted by the time I got there but knew that I had found something that I really liked. Car horns not withstanding. Fast forward, looking for a different pursuit than running, Larry Cohen suggested I get into road cycling. I bought a new Trek, got all the clothes, helmet, shoes and started to ride from North Park to Brush Creek Park in Beaver County. From there I started to get involved with the Allegheny Cycling Association and began to race and do time trials. I was hooked.

At the Mount Washington Hill Climb in New Hampshire back in the day with the classic ACA wool jersey and leather hairnet.

Continuing on with the Highland Park Zoo parking lot criterium series, the ACA Time Trials, and various local and out of state road races, I relentlessly pursued getting in shape and competing. We had the good fortune of having national class riders like Mac Martin, Matt Eaton, Tom and Danny Chew mentoring us along the way and the thrill of a fast moving pace line, 6 inches apart was addictive. I loved the training rides too out into the country of Western Pa with the scenic farms, quiet roads, and the long hours to enjoy and think about a lot of things while peddling to get into shape.

I also went on trips to Holland, Ireland and England with touring companies and soon discovered that road cycling was a great way to see a country. Ride all day and just be in the town where you were supposed to be by dinner. It was all great and road cycling became more than just a pastime to me. It was a way of life.

One day I was riding in North Park, and a car came up behind me and threw a chipped ham sandwich at my head, complete with mayo, and told me in no uncertain terms to get off the road. I knew that I had just as much right to ride that road as that car, but with continuing aggressiveness of drivers, I began to think about the consequences of an altercation on the road. I was just starting to get into mountain biking too, so I had another outlet in the event that road cycling was becoming dangerous- at least for me.

At Rothrock Trails at State College.

I began to appreciate the trails with mountain biking, no cars and a good network of friends. I also appreciated the tranquility of riding the trails with music from my earbuds and playlists. 6 years ago, I made the painful decision to stop road riding because I saw too many drivers distracted with their cell phones and texting where they should have kept their eyes on the road. I didn’t want to put my life in the hands of a distracted driver or an otherwise angry driver. The roads around my home were no longer safe to ride in my estimation. So, I quit and sold my road bike. A painful decision but the more I have moved on, I know I did the right thing- at least for me. Mountain biking is fine.

There are times when I see road cyclists zip by me while I am on my mountain bike on the road, and my competitive juices start up just for a second or two to try to catch them. But experience and my age, says no way and I just let them go with a sigh- missing the speed and grace of the road bike. I miss the pace lines and the pleasant routes through the country roads of Western Pa. But sometimes we have to make decisions that are good for us and in no way do I intend to influence others. Road cycling had become too dangerous for me, and I had to make that decision to end my participation. I have no regrets on the decision, but the nostalgia of the good times on the road bike stays with me. Especially on a sunny day in the summer.

Sometimes you have to move on from things that you really like. But circumstances dictate decisions and you have to consider others like your family. You make the right decisions for you and your family and then move on. No regrets. So, the next time you are faced with a decision, look at the whole picture and decide what is best for you and your family. Then become involved in something new and enjoy the ride- whatever that may be. Thanks for reading.

Please follow the blog on http://www.chroniclesofmccloskey.com It helps me.

The past is done; the future is the canvas where God will paint something new.

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From the Best of Chronicles of McCloskey

“Every Picture Tells a Story”
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“Good to Excellent”

These were the words that I used to love to hear when I called the ski report back in the day. When I heard Lars Skylling, the Director of Skiing at Seven Springs Resort, say the skiing was good to excellent, I was excited. Lars has always been kind of a folk hero to me and when I stopped in to see him the other day, it was long overdue. I had a nice chat with his son Erik who lives in Park City, Utah. Lars is now 95 years old and it was so good to see him and to chat a bit with him. Again- he was a folk hero to lots of us kids growing up at Seven Springs in the old days.

By way of a little history, Lars learned to ski near his home in Stockholm, Sweden almost as soon as he learned to walk. He would ski 15 miles to school and back and skied with the Swedish Mountain Troops as a young man. Lars came to the United States at the urging of his brother Bert, and ended up teaching skiing at Big Bromley Ski Area in Manchester, Vermont. After only one season with the ski school at Bromley, Lars was drafted into the 46th Infantry in Germany and taught in the U.S Army Ski Patrol in World War II. Lars worked with amputee skiers in the Army in Germany, and eventually returned for two more seasons teaching skiing at Bromley. He eventually was contacted by Herman Dupre to head up the ski school at Seven Springs where he spent the rest of his career. He not only managed the ski school but was in charge of construction with many of the projects of a growing ski area in Western Pa. Hard to imagine the lives of this Greatest Generation and all they went through.

Lars and Dick Barron – head of the ski patrol at Seven Springs.

When Lars was the ski school director, I was a young guy. Along with my friends, we entered the Standard Race at Seven Springs on Sunday afternoons. Lars set the pace and all of us tried to come within a certain percentage of his time to win a coveted 7 Springs pin. They started out as bronze pins because Lars was pretty fast, but eventually, we got our golds as we entered the teenage years. When we started to beat Lars straight up, it was a proud day for all of us as well as for Lars, who mentored us in the junior racing programs. He wanted us to succeed but never gave it to us. He was fast and we had to ski really well to get that gold pin. I would call the ski school to see how we did and also called the ski report several times a week to hear Lars and his familiar voice during the ski report. He was our hero and I told him so that the day I went to see him .When he heard that, he got a big smile on his face and Erik was smiling too. I will make sure I go back to see him more frequently as we just don’t know how much longer we will have a guy like Lars with us. He is truly an icon who I have always admired.

My friend Porter Scott still wears his gold 7
So does his cousin Jamie Edson. Lars got us all enthused.

Lars was always a happy person and to see him at 95 years old with that same smile on his face was truly gratifying. I am sure he was happy to see me, but more importantly, I was really happy to see him. Many memories of growing up at Seven Springs as a young skier, were forged by my association with Lars Skylling. He is one of those classic figures that will always shape the history of skiing in Western Pa. I am privileged to know him and to relate to you how much my association with him means to me. I need to see him more often. ” The skiing is good to excellent, with a few izzzzy shpooots.” Thanks Lars. And,thanks for reading. Go see a senior citizen today.

Please follow the blog on http://www.chroniclesofmccloskey.com It helps me.

“Therefore, encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing.” 1 Thessalonians 5:11