The Abandoned Blog

After all of the riding and writing I did last month, it feels like it's been forever since I've written a blog post, even though it's only been about a week. I don't think that qualifies as abandonment, but the post title is still fitting, as my most recent adventure took me to the Abandoned Pennsylvania Turnpike last weekend:

As you can see by the sign above, Pike 2 Bike is working to make it into a full-fledged bike trail in the future, but for now, venturing onto this abandoned roadway is at your own risk. If the links above are TL;DR for you, basically this is a 13-mile stretch of the Pennsylvania Turnpike that was bypassed back in the 1960's due to the existence of several tunnels that contracted the highway to 2 lanes from its usual 4, causing traffic congestion and other safety hazards. Approximately 9 miles of this stretch is still able to be accessed by non-motorized transportation.

I happened to be traveling to Western PA last weekend and decided to make this an extended pit stop. I spent late Friday night driving, eventually stopping to sleep in my car at a travel stop just a half mile from the western entrance of the abandoned stretch. I awoke Saturday morning to pouring rain, still determined to embark on my adventure, which begins with a muddy hill:

Not pictured, me wearing a full rain suit, which is not the most fun attire for riding. I trudged on. When reaching the top of said hill, it opens up to what are clearly the remains of a roadway:

And more signage that is somewhat confusing:

I double-checked all of this before I decided to do this, so I knew what I was getting into was perfectly legal, although inherently risky. What do I mean by risky? If you've ever tried to ride a bike through a mile long tunnel, that's risky, even with lights:

I mentioned it was pouring at the time and didn't want to stop, hence the blurry picture quality. I reached the first tunnel and rode for probably a 10th of a mile inside before the darkness really started to take hold. For whatever reason, my usually powerful light just wasn't cutting it, and after about 30 seconds, I couldn't see anything other than the light at the end of the tunnel about a mile away. Combine that with the wind rapping against the hood from my rain jacket, and you have a very disorienting experience in the making.

I paused briefly to take off my hood which helped some, but this still didn't help my vision. I probably should have waited a little longer for my eyes to adjust, but I decided to keep riding. Not too long after, I ran over a rather large bump in the concrete which was kinda jarring. Rather than further tempting fate with compromised vision, I decided to head back towards the car to regroup. It was a bit fortuitous that I decided to spend 5 minutes in there, because by that point, the rain had slowed to a drizzle:

OK, so that's not the best picture to show drizzle, but it gives a good idea of the condition of the road. Largely still passable, there are only a few small rough patches that are truly un-enjoyable for riding. I also got a better look heading southward of just how much effort they put in to ensure that cars don't travel on here. Check out all these Jersey barriers:

I made it back to the car somewhat unsatisfied, so I decided to pack up the bike and backtrack just a bit onto a gravel forest service road (Oregon Road - for those of you who know my story, a bit of nostalgia) toward what I heard was another good access point. The road is part of the Buchanan State Forest and was kinda neat, traveling past camp sites and other hiking trails, among other things. When I got to a parking area, I pulled out the bike again AND my backup emergency light that I always keep in the car. Looks a bit awkward, but the magnetic bottom works wonderfully:

I headed southwest, back towards the tunnel that I had previously reached. After a mostly uphill 2.5 miles, I reached the other side:

That gives a better idea of the length and state of the tunnels. It's pretty incredible that after all of these years, these tunnels are still structurally sound. I couldn't help but wonder what it looked like to drive through one of these in the heyday (and how nerve-racking that could have been).

What also came to mind during this stretch was the lack of graffiti (so far). Any of you who have explored Centralia,PA and the closed portion of Route 61 know of the "Graffiti Highway." Perhaps due to conservation efforts or the sheer length of this abandoned stretch of roadway, graffiti is limited mostly to the areas around the tunnels, as you'd kind of expect:

I have an appreciation for street art, but mostly in an urban setting. It feels a bit out of place this close to nature. Here's hoping this place gets converted into a full-fledged trail before too long. The Graffiti Highway is kinda sad to see these days, and we don't need another one. Anyway...

The backup light plan worked well, and I was able to ride pretty far into the tunnel before I honestly got bored. There's really not much to see even when shining a light on the walls and/or ground. I did pause briefly in the middle to take it all in, and perhaps due to how early I'd gotten on the road, there wasn't a breath of anyone or anything in visible or audible distance. Kinda creepy.

I turned around and headed back to the car, having completed about half of the stretch. Long story short, I was tired and I had other places to be. I'll definitely need to come back again on a nicer day and with better light preparations. All in all, it was a pretty neat experience, at a place I'm surprised to find that not many people know about. Now you know.