Author: broderic

One thing about cycling alone that makes it difficult is that on those lonely back country roads, it gets spooky. You look over your shoulder and can imagine something or someone following you, and your cadence picks up moving you quickly away from whatever it was that had you spooked.

Now, at times I get spooked, but it is always just a figment of my imagination. I’m not one to worry to much about the spooks. They come and go, and I continue on pedaling to my goal. Yet, I can’t help but think about a situation I ran into this past summer. On this spooky of evenings, let me tell you my tale. It may give you chills.

Butler Road is a favorite of the biking community. It can connect you to many other routes throughout Baltimore County, and it’s relatively near civilization. It’s in the beautiful valleys northwest of the city.

I make my way there all the time this summer. It’s become part of my favorite biking routes. I’ve always wanted to climb the hill off of Longnecker Road in that vale. At the top is a radio tower, you can see it whenever you ride there, and it usually beckons. I’ve never been up that way, but finally, on one of my last rides, I decide to check it out.

It was on over cast summer day cool which is great for a bike ride. I go out and pass through Reisterstown Road, out to Timber Grove, which spits me out onto Dover. I bomb down the hill at 40 mph, then hang the left out onto Dover Road proper. I take the left onto Longnecker. A cloud occults the sun and it looks a little bit like rain. The wind kicks up. A head wind sucks. I put my head down and grind into the wind hoping that when I get to the base of the hill that it will shelter.

I reach the base of the hill. It’s over a creek, around a bend, and through a stone quiet vale. The road hangs a right, then sharp left into the woods before the climb starts. I’m grinding up in a low gear. Half way up I pass an old lady walking her dog. Weird. Then I make it out of the woods, but the hill kicks up. It’s next to a nice field, but the road gets steeper. I’m out of gears, so I focus on trying to get up the hill.

At the top you can see a farm. There’s a false flat so that you don’t see the crossroads. You climb up the steepest section, make it to the false flat which rises to the crossroads.

Up ahead I see another cyclist resting. He’s tuckered from the climb too.

I pull up next to him. Huffing and puffing. Sit down and swig some water from my water bottle.

“Tough.”

“I usually like this hill, it’s less steep than the backside. But I wish the club ride wouldn’t have left me behind.”

“Club ride? Where to?”

“Carroll County and back. 40 miles. I’m late and must catch up.”

Even though, I’m overheated, I feel a chill.

“I’m always trying to catch up to the group.”

“I know how you feel. I’m a slowpoke myself.” This is when I take a good look at my rest stop companion. He’s an older gentleman riding an older bike: friction shifters and really only 10 speeds. Odd. The chills.

I look back down the hill, and see another cyclist coming up. His appearance startles me. I turn to the gentleman, but he’s just muttering, “I must catch up.”

The other cyclist reaches us. My rest stop companion, asks for directions out to Butler. The cyclist doesn’t know, but continues on with his ride. He gives us a queer look as he pedals away. “Follow me, this is the usual club ride.” My companion barely acknowledges.

“Well, I’m going right. Left should get you back to the group ride.”

“Maybe I’ll follow you.”

And with that the chills come again. To be followed by this gentleman just somehow gives me the spooks something awful. I get on and pedal away, quickly.

Over the backside, the road is in terrible conditions. There’s potholes and patches, its steep, and bumpy. I’m trying to go as fast as possible without crashing. I glance back on occasion to see if he’s following. Nope. Thank, god.

I don’t know, but that encounter always creeps me out. I don’t know what happened to that guy, but it was always strange how he didn’t know where to go and to be always trying to keep up. Who was that man? And why did he give me the chills?