Recap: Coshocton Area Wildflower Quest

Solo for 37.8 miles with 3194’ & 35.4 miles with 2975’ respectively on 2 Saturday’s with a seasonal time warp in-between; nevertheless made for great gravel exploring and satisfying solitude. The first Saturday was more like the 1st of June than the 1st of May for sun and warmth, a ride based on the Woodbury Loop. The second Saturday was the Amish Chock Full of Gravel, when the 8th of May was pretending to be early April and I wore knee warmers and a wind jacket the whole ride.

For the 1st, I used the Dresden park and ride as base and went up route 60 to intersect at the bottom of the Woodbury Loop, following the route up through the wilderness but passing through the gate on Township Road 70 and meandering alone between the ponds and a soaring eagle, then instead of traversing 541 and going north, I went south, trading what I expect is nice gravel to the north for gravel I found while weaving west to reconnect with the route in West Bedford where I continued to my southern intersection. Township Hwy 394 hill was a highlight, with woods blooming and ferns unfurling, coming up the rough climb to big open skies and spreading grasslands.

My mental soundtrack looping between Johnny Cash and Tool made for a pace and presence that suited my wide open afternoon attitude, “we’ll ride the spiral to the end and may just go where no one’s been – spiral out, keep going”…“down where the willow and the dogwood grow”.

For the 8th, I followed the designed route, out 5 miles of tarmac and up a promising climb leading slowly to another Saturday in the wonderfully abandoned feel of this region. Some of the landscape appears as though a giant harrow swept earth, left all to the wild, letting grooves fill as ponds and woods with a gravel road running a ridge flanked by occasional oil tanks and many gates, as if this were a super-rural gated community – no McMansions in view thankfully though. A bit more tarmac bridges necessary gaps between worthy gravel segments, the picturesque Helmick covered bridge (unfortunately painted inside by the ignorant and phallic-obsessed whose artistic abilities are as limited as their imagination) leading to the gloriously steep and rugged Township Rd 34, on down through Warsaw and up one more nice bit of gravel on Township Rd 41 followed by about 7 miles of rolling tarmac leading to the historic Roscoe Village ending.

This region has its fair share of unearthed boulders claimed for habitat by moss, ferns and wildflowers, sidetracks inviting a crisscross patterned ride rather than a loop, ridges and valleys letting out occasionally to pastures of steer, sheep, horses and donkeys hemmed in by rivers, wilderness and, where the natural borders were too large for men to agree upon, fences.

Tom Petty covered the soundtrack this time, confirming I was where I belonged – among the wildflowers – the call continues, bike-packing beckons; the season, slipping to and fro in the wake of the vortex we refer to as Covid-19 or 2020, ultimately springs forward nonetheless. I’m enjoying this little looking back, looking forward – hope you have a good ride too.