Shippensburg, PA, CVRT Bike Trail

I woke up at the Cracker Barrel in Harrisburg for the second morning in a row. It was quiet, the kind of peaceful you only get on a Sunday. A bit of motion outside caught my eye—15 white utility trucks had rolled in, perfectly lined up in rows like chess pieces. Each had a bucket lift and a lightning bolt logo on the side. None of the plates were from Pennsylvania. A traveling electric line crew, clearly here for breakfast.

After my own meal, I stayed a while to work on a blog post and wrestle with some HTML quirks—trying to shake the rust off as I get back into the rhythm of writing.

By noon, I had the van packed up and ready to roll. I've started forcing myself to double-check every drawer and cabinet before driving off. When they pop open mid-drive, the noise is enough to make you jump out of your skin.

Cruising through Harrisburg, I watched neighborhoods shift every few blocks—some polished, some still weathered. The Bethesda Mission caught my attention, along with a few pockets of revitalization—signs of new life among the old bones of the city. I turned onto Front Street, where a greenbelt park hugs the Susquehanna. The river was wide, calm, flowing south past the Capitol dome. Few people were out. I crossed the bridge slowly, taking in the view.

Just outside of town, a stone building caught my eye—The Historic Peace Church, built in 1798. This humble structure once served both Reformed and Lutheran congregations and is home to a rare wine-glass pulpit and a 200-year-old Conrad Doll organ. During the Civil War, as Lee’s forces pushed north in 1863, Confederate soldiers reportedly used the church as a lookout during the nearby Battle of Sporting Hill. Today, it stands as a quiet reminder of turbulent times.

Not long after, I rolled into Mechanicsburg. Main Street is postcard-perfect: beautifully restored 18th- and 19th-century buildings, local cafes, and signs of an ongoing renaissance. I passed the Gingerbread Man, Denim Café, and the Mechanicsburg Museum, tucked on Market Street. The Soldiers and Sailors Memorial hints at the town’s deep historical roots—this place has stories.

Then came Carlisle, a town with personal echoes and a place I could call home. As a kid, I visited my great-aunt here. It still has that warm, old-brick charm. I passed Bedford Street and immediately started spotting buildings that looked collegiate—sure enough, it was Dickinson College, founded in 1783. Just down the road, I passed the Molly Pitcher Brewing Company, a nod to the woman who fought in the Revolutionary War heroine. Molly Pitcher became a symbol of women’s contributions to the war effort after taking over there husband’s cannon posts during battle.

I was nearly to my destination—the Assembly of God Church in Shippensburg—when I spotted the old courthouse at the corner, once a tavern, now a preserved historical site.

As I pulled into the church parking lot, a service had just let out. A large Indian congregation was gathering for their Sunday afternoon service (they rent the space from the church). The women wore stunning, brightly colored silk saris. Kids dashed through the lot, laughing and weaving between cars.

About 15 minutes later, Barbara arrived. She drove her car over, stepped out, and handed me a welcome bag with a warm smile. “Here’s your welcome bag,” she said. Inside: two bottles of water, six chocolate chip cookies from Maplewood Bakery, Amish Country popcorn, a pen, two postcards, and a bar of locally made lavender & honey hand soap. She also told me I was welcome to use the electric and water hookups behind the lot. What a welcome. Truly.

Cumberland Valley Rail Trail (CVRT)

Later that afternoon, I headed to Newville (a very small town) to ride the Cumberland Valley Rail Trail—not realizing it actually connects right back to Shippensburg. It’s an easy, mostly flat path with crushed stone and beautiful scenery. Some might call it boring. Not me. I found it peaceful and quietly stunning, with friendly faces along the way. Many looked to be Mennonite, dressed simply, some on bikes, laughing and waving as they rode by.

I joined the trail at mile 10 in Newville.

Weber Long

Five miles in, I paused for one of many photos, when a younger guy gave a quick hello as he passed. I caught up, managed to keep pace, and struck up a conversation.

His tire was soft and his chain squeaky, but he had power. Turns out he was Weber Long, a Health & Exercise Science major at Wake Forest University, and a standout distance runner—5K, 10K, and cross-country. He’s recovering from a broken tibia, and this was only his fourth ride since the injury. Still, he was flying. We chatted for a while—great guy, and as I later learned, an Eagle Scout too. I wished him well and coasted the last hundred yards to the trail’s end.

The end of the trail in Shippensburg is a railroad museum / sculpture garden.

ElliptiGO

As I took a break, I met another rider—this time on an ElliptiGO, which is basically an elliptical machine on wheels. He explained that it gives you a 33% more effective workout than a regular bike, thanks to full-body engagement and extra wind resistance. He and his wife were former marathoners but had to give up running because of joint pain. This was their perfect alternative. We traded thoughts on aging well—exercise, good food, and rest—and agreed it’s all about keeping the machine running.

Steve

Steve joined me as I started the ride back. A geologist, he works on wetlands restoration projects across eastern PA. We swapped stories about our musician sons—his is a guitarist at a local university—and talked about how landscapes, like people, keep evolving. He had a ton of insight into how climate and human impact are reshaping the wetlands. When we reached Newville, he mentioned there were another three miles of trail in the opposite direction. He’d already done them, so we said our goodbyes, and I pedaled on.

Farm At The End Of The Trail

The day was comming to a close, the golden hour was shining on the beautiful farm land of Pennsylvania as I reached the end of the trail and head back to the van.

Outdoor Induction Cooking!!!

The sun was low by the time I got back. I hadn’t realized how late it was—7:30 p.m. already. I packed up the bike and returned to the church for a spaghetti dinner.

The lot sat quiet between two open fields. After dinner and a bit of tidying up, the calm of the day caught up with me. By 11 p.m., I was out cold. After a ride and a full belly, I don’t even remember my head hitting the pillow.