The Emerald Necklace: 100 Mile Bike Ride

The sun had already set as our vans arrived at a cabin near Lake Chautauqua during a cold winter night in February 2018. Nearly 20 of us grabbed our packs and began to flood the cramped cabin. It was my first winter OL trip. I knew everyone from practices at school, but it is always quite different to see people in an out of school environment.

I remember the scene like it was yesterday. The teachers gathered in the kitchen preparing some form of ravioli for dinner, while the rest of us crammed the couches of the living room. The fire pit roared, and we made ourselves at home. Girls were braiding each other’s hair, we all told anecdotes, and I was having the time of my life. But one kid remained oddly quiet, and sat nimbly in the corner on the couch. He was not interested in our typical teenage jargon. That kid was Francis Davis.

I had become close with Francis during practices and fall trip, and he was quite the eccentric person. He had lots of odd stories and loved to talk about his moped and climbing. He was always a bit mysterious though. That night I remember Matt Dierker saying something along the lines of: “Guys, listen up! Francis is the coolest person ever! He’s biked by himself through multiple states and has done over 100 miles in a single day!” It was the first time I had ever heard about Francis’s crazy biking trips and adventures. My mouth dropped! How on earth was that possible? Little did I know, with tons of training and Francis’s motivation, just two years later I would find out…

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May 30, 2020

57°F, Partly Cloudy, Winds 7.4mph from the West

At 7:40am, I awoke to the sound of my alarm clock. This was it! The big day I had been anxiously awaiting for half of a week. In all actuality it was a day I had been waiting for over two years. I was going to bike the Emerald Necklace Trail, a 100-mile ride around Cleveland that passes through nearly all of the Cleveland Metroparks, a ride which Francis managed to do (with great difficulty) his sophomore year. It was daunting to say the least, but I had confidence in myself that I could complete it. I had previously done a 70 mile ride with relative ease, and had biked nearly every day for the past year, so the odds were certainly in my favor. That being said, there was still a lot that could go wrong, and I spent quite a bit of time beforehand planning to ensure no problems would occur.

My dad and I left our house at 8:30 (my dad intended to do the first 50 miles of the ride with me, before my mom would come pick him up). Because of the western winds, I decided that traveling the route clockwise (against the wind first) would be my best bet. We rode out of our neighborhood and took my first picture in front of the sign for South Chagrin Reservation. Then we were finally off!

The first 15 miles of the ride (through Hawthorn Parkway, the Bedford Reservation, and the Bike and Hike Trail) were mostly downhill. By the time we arrived at the Bike and Hike trail, both my dad and I felt great. Our morale was high, and I was so excited to just be there in the moment. The next section of the ride through the Brecksville Reservation did not go quite as intended. Neither my dad nor I had ridden this portion of the ride before, and we missed a few of the streets that we were supposed to turn on. We ultimately missed the five-mile section of the towpath planned in the route, which was slightly disappointing. However, the Brecksville Reservation was probably my favorite portion of the ride. It begins with a massive climb out of the valley that reclaims the lost elevation from Bedford. I envisioned this portion to be the hardest part of the ride, but the climb was hardly noticeable. This relieved much of my anxiety, and for the first time I assured myself, “you can really do this!” At one point, we rode down a closed road. This segment winded through the woods and included some banked turns. It was extremely fun.

The Mill Stream and Rocky River Reservations were well paved and flat. We flew through them averaging around 17mph, making up some lost time. It was an excellent break after Brecksville. I really tried to admire the scenery during this part. There were some beautiful views of the river, with high rock faces on both sides, and raging river rapids. Unfortunately, I did not get any pictures. The Rocky River portion ended abruptly with amongst the steepest uphills of the ride, straight into the city of Rocky River. It was an odd transition. One minute I was in the middle of the woods, and the next I was in a concrete city. Here we meet my mom, who had parked the car nearby the trail. I took a lengthy break to eat and digest lunch, refilled my water, said goodbye to my dad (who had just completed his longest bike ride ever, 52.5 miles), and I embarked on the second half of my ride.

The next five miles were down Lake Avenue. This stretch was flat and through an urban neighborhood, so it was pretty uneventful. I took a stop at Lakewood Park to see the Solstice Steps. I had seen the gigantic concrete structure from the lake before, but never up close. The views were astounding! I spent a bit of time just staring out at the lake. I also found another view of downtown Cleveland, and the coastline. This view was the only location on my route were I could visually see just how gargantuan my route was. Euclid Beach, my next stop, was so far in the distance that it was hardly visible amidst the horizon. For a moment, doubt overtook me. But as I reflected upon what I had already accomplished, I came to my senses and realized the route was not as menacing as it appeared.

I continued through Edgewater Park, the Lakefront Bikeway (which has an awesome viewing platform of downtown), down the Centennial Trail (which is really the end of the Towpath), through the east bank of the flats, around the protests (which was an amazing and empowering sight to behold), and finally ended up on the Lakefront Bike Trail. I was particularly excited for this portion of the ride because it was the route my dad used to ride when he lived downtown. It ended up being slightly bland: a freeway to my right, and a private airport to my left. Cleveland’s unused coastline is the true downfall of the city, and this stretch of trail makes that extremely apparent.

The ride from the Lakefront Nature Reservation to Euclid Beach is beautiful. It is a perfect balance of human built structures and nature. There are trees everywhere, views of Lake Erie, and some truly remarkable houses. As one ventures towards Euclid however, the natural beauty begins to fade away and is replaced instead with concrete. The houses become smaller, the neighborhoods become less friendly. It is a stark juxtaposition exposing wealth inequality in America. Just a mile separates million dollar lakeside mansions from the homeless. It is a shame, and a reminder of why the call for social justice right now is so important. What stood out to me though, was that amidst all of the poorly weathered buildings in Euclid is a beautiful park, Euclid Beach. Despite these two drastically different areas of Cleveland, they share a common love for the outdoors. I found that to be powerful.

I biked down to the Euclid Creek Reservation where I met Francis in the parking lot. We talked briefly, I filled up my water, he gave me some words of encouragement, and I was back on my way. My body was beginning to feel fatigued. But, just seeing Francis was all the encouragement that I needed. I thought of that first day on that winter OL trip, and I knew that I had no choice but to keep pushing.

I ventured onto Chardon Road, which began with the steepest hill climb of the entire ride. After that, I knew it was just smooth sailing all the way back. I continued down Chardon Road until I arrived at the entrance to North Chagrin Reservation. Finally, an area I was familiar with! Francis and I had ridden this section of road together about a month ago prior. I dropped into the valley and rode up to Squires Castle. At that point, I took a seat on the grass for nearly 15 minutes to rest. My body was really beginning to feel it! Unlike hard rides I have done in the past where my legs begin to ache, my legs were not in pain. Instead, they felt like they lacked any strength, like jello. My shoulders and arms ached from holding my body upright all day. My energy level was low too, if I closed my eyes, I think I would have fallen asleep. But my morale and motivation were as high as ever. I was going to finish! I had done the ride from Squires Castle back to my house countless times before, and I could do it again, no matter how long it would take.

I trudged on, slowly, but kept making progress. I made it to Sara’s Place. All I could do was think of the upcoming hills that I dreaded climbing. I barely made it up the first one, my legs felt like they were going to give out at the top. I just had to keep pushing!

I set a goal for myself I would not stop for a break until I made it to the polo field. When I made it there, I leaned my bike on a gazebo, and collapsed onto the grass. Another middle-aged biker approached me and asked if I was okay. I explained that I was just in the normal pain one would expect to feel after 100 miles of biking. He responded that he was 50 miles into his bike ride, with a clear hint of embarrassment. Eventually, I gathered the strength to start the final section of my ride: two miles of flat road followed by the largest hill climb of the ride (South Chagrin Reservation).

About halfway through the flat section, I realized one of my fears had come true. The bridge on River Road in between Chagrin and Miles was closed for construction. The road was only open to local traffic. I figured that I was so far into the ride, that I had to find a way around the bridge. I rode up to the bridge, which had been completely stripped bear and blocked by active excavators. Thankfully, I had a contingency plan: cross the river via the Bridle Trail which runs parallel to the road. However, I quickly discovered that there was not a bridge along the Bridle Trail either.

Somehow, I would have to cross the river. The rocks seemed like a poor choice, as my balance would be thrown off carrying the bike. Instead, I pushed my bike across a tree that had fallen over the river. Crossing the tree was the easy part; I then had to maneuver over the three-foot high stump of the tree, over a beaver dam, and then haul my bike onto the other bank. I fell while crossing the beaver dam, which covered my bike and I with mud. After nearly 20 minutes, I finally made my way off the Bridle Trail on the other side of the river. Another 15 minutes later, I finished the hill climb. For whatever reason, this climb proved to be relatively easy. Perhaps it was the immense amount of adrenalin rushing through my body, knowing that I was so close to the end. At 6:00, nearly 9.5 hours after I started, I pedaled down my driveway: the finish line. Victory!

I did it! After two years of listening to Francis’s stories, I can finally relate. What I found was that the ride was not about metrics as I thought it would be, such as mileage or speed; instead, it is just about enjoying the experience. About halfway through the ride, I realized that it is okay to slow down and take a closer look at something. I now understand why Francis loves bike packing so much. It is to some extent about the physical challenge, but once you are in the right shape, it is more about freedom. There are a few aspects of road biking that resonate with me: experiencing so much beautiful scenery in such a brief amount of time, propelling yourself under your own power, and reflecting in your own personal isolation. But what makes the sport truly stand out to me is its freedom. Unlike backpacking, climbing, or even driving a car, biking allows one to explore the world around them at their own pace. That freedom is a remarkable sensation, and it is why I will continue to love biking.

As for this experience, it was also about accomplishing a goal. No matter how much planning one does, obstacles will always come up (like a missing bridge). While I may stumble and fall, sometimes literally and other times figuratively, I know that I will persevere and can achieve the goal.