At left, Joan L. Bangs, with her husband, Lawrence, on a trip to Hawaii in 1999.

It could have been a 4-H group, a Boy or Girls Scout troop or a family, but we were 11 persons consisting of the student body of our small homeschooling style school and friends. We left Vermont with our bicycles on the roof of a van and our car. The majority of the young people with us did not know each other prior to this adventure and an adventure it became.

We arrived at our first destination, a campsite near York, Pennsylvania well into the evening darkness. Tents were set up using flashlights, and going back and forth to the wash room in preparations for bed was spooky. Everyone was game and thus, had a good nights sleep. One boy who had never camped before did end up sleeping in the van because he heard too many new noises.

The next morning was warm and sunny and everyone dressed accordingly for the bicycle trip from York to Gettysburg Battlefield. Each group had a map showing them the back roads we planned to ride that day. Part way into the morning the clouds came in and it began to get colder, then to rain and soon Mike, Dave, Lisa, Jennifer, Cindy, Jermili, Ben, David and Billy were all riding in downpours of sleet. They were cold and miserable, I mean very cold and miserable. A couple of them had windbreakers, but most of them were riding in shorts and tank tops. The boys helped the girls find shelter in store doorways or under the overhanging roofs of farmyard barns. People came out of the stores and offered to have them come in for hot chocolate. It seems that many people were concerned about them and wanted to know about their trip. Needless to say, our group who knew little of each other 24 hours before became close friends. They had no choice but to forge on and make their destination. There was no other way because I had taken the van to Gettysburg and was going to ride my bicycle out to meet them.

After I arrived in Gettysburg, I started bicycling to meet them. I soon turned around and went back to the van. The weather was deteriorating and I needed to check out the campsite where we were to stay. It was damp, muddy and it was sure not the place our group would want to stay after what they were enduring. I went into Gettysburg and found a motel right next to the cemetery from which Lincoln had delivered his famous speech, The Gettysburg Address. They had room enough and as a bonus there was a smorgasbord next door. I canceled the campsites, forfeiting the deposit and quickly went out to find everyone. I can still feel how proud I was of each and every one of them. They had not given up, though cold, no, frozen. One by one I picked up drenched, red-skinned from the cold, smiling individuals, but before they could get out of the rain and sleet they had to secure their bicycles on the roof of the van. They all pitched in and helped each other. I became very popular when I informed them they did not have to sleep in a tent, but rather we had a nice warm, dry motel. They quickly showered and dressed for dinner. Boy did they eat, second and third helpings. Waitresses and patrons became interested in the story of the day’s ride and the group began to realize what they had accomplished. Each one of our group had learned a lot about the countryside in southwestern Pennsylvania, and a great deal about themselves, but what really made an impression on them was the number of people who had helped and befriended them, complete strangers. They could not understand why these people were so helpful, and it made a lasting impression.

The next morning some of us went to the cemetery at daybreak to see the sunrise over the battlefield and to feel the peace and quiet of this historical place. We were soon peddling our bicycles from Little Round Top to Devil’s Den and trying to visualize what it must have been like to live and fight in this battle. Being Vermonters, we were very interested in the important part the regiment from Vermont played in turning the outcome of the battle. From Gettysburg, we rode to Frederick, Maryland and toured a reproduction of Barbara Frietchie’s home, where legend has it that hers was the only flag left flying as Confederate general "Stonewall" Jackson rode through Frederick. He is said to have ordered his men to shoot it down. Barbara rescuing the flag, waved it defiantly and according to the poet John Greenleaf Whittier she said, "Shoot, if you must, this old gray head, But spare your country’s flag."

Moved by her appeal, the Confederate leader relented. "Who touches a hair of yon gray head, Dies like a dog! March on!" he said.

Riding from the Frietchie home to our motel destination the bicycle path, that had given us much security against the fast moving traffic, stopped and we found ourselves riding directly onto a four lane highway. Fortunately, we were all together in one group and we safely made our way for three miles to the next road where we could exit. That three miles turned many a hair in my head gray, but we were all safe and sound in our motel suite where we cooked our supper.

The next morning we cycled to the tow path along the B & O railroad that leads into Washington, D.C., our goal. Some of the group had packed light gloves in case it was cold. Those who had not, purchased some at little grocery stores along the way. It was a pretty ride to the tow path, but cold. We rode about 25 miles on the path when it began to snow. It was unanimous that we should forego the excitement of riding our bicycles into Washington and get into the van for the ride down Pennsylvania Avenue. We stayed in Alexandria that night and had our first taste of fried ice cream.

Now it was time to enjoy the sites we had bicycled to visit. None of the young people had been to the gallery of the House of Representatives before. Because of the questions by our group addressed to the lady in charge of the gallery, we were led from these chambers to the Senator chambers just in time for a very important vote. We were the only ones in the Senate chambers as they were closed for the vote. This was a wonderful opportunity to see the people whose names were so familiar to us.

For a perfect end to our trip we rode our bicycles on a bicycle path from Old Alexandria to Mount Vernon, George Washington’s home. The path has several board walk bridges and winds its way through a garden parkway setting. It passes along the edge of the Potomac River and up a steep hill to the parking lot of Mount Vernon.

Mount Vernon is a very special place, beautiful and full of history. There is a totally different indescribable feeling when you bicycle on to the grounds of such a landmark. Somehow you feel part of its history and part of nature. It is so different than arriving in a car following all the other traffic. There was also no problem finding a parking space! After a house tour, exploration of the slave quarters, George Washington’s grave site, and a walk down to the plantation dock on the Potomac River, we hopped onto our bicycles and off we rode.

It is about an eight hour car ride back to Vermont from Alexandria, Virginia. Everyone was tired and many slept or reminisced about the things they had seen and done on the trip. Of course when we crossed the line into Vermont from Massachusetts everyone drew a deep breath of good fresh Vermont air. Two miles down the road we stopped at a rest area. It had been lightly raining and the grass was wet. We warned everyone to be careful. One boy came running out of the building across the grass, slipped and fell catching himself by his hand and wrist. Fortunately, we had two vehicles because we had to take our car to the hospital for Mike who had broken his wrist. Our daughter, Becky, who had accompanied us on the trip, drove the rest of the group home in the van. We are always asked when taking young people on bicycle trips "aren’t you concerned someone will get hurt?" Yes, this is a concern, but we do not want this concern to keep us from all the fun and experiences we can enjoy. After the danger we had encountered while riding our bicycles along the highway, it really seemed ironic that one of our group should end up at the hospital because he slipped on wet grass. Whenever we travel with young people other than our own children, we always have a statement by a parent of each child giving myself or my husband the right to act for the parent in case of a medical emergency. This was very important in the case of Mike’s broken wrist, because with this permission the doctor in the emergency room at the hospital could begin immediate treatment. Otherwise, treatment might have had to wait until Mike’s mother or dad drove two hours to the hospital.

This was not the ending to our trip that we had expected. The first challenge of inclement weather demonstrated to each of the young people the strength they had within themselves. This challenge of a medical emergency gave them the confidence that they could handle any situation in which they found themselves. They each acted in a very mature way whether it was telling strangers about bicycling in sleet and snow showers, sitting quietly in the United States Senate Chambers or helping a new friend in need. We could not have asked for a more cooperative group.

If you have any questions or things to share please e-mail me, Joan@wildridge.com