https://www.facebook.com/share/v/1Bp2vGNkss/ Leaving Strasburg, I climbed a short rise to Zoarville, then turned southeast. The first 30 miles were on the road, Still no shoulders but with much less traffic than the day before. A welcome change. Eventually I reached the Conotton Creek Trail, a smooth and scenic 11-mile stretch of former railway. It cuts through quiet valleys dotted with Amish farms, offering a peaceful ride through some of eastern Ohio's most charming countryside. After the trail ended, I was back on the roads for another 25 miles, heading toward the Ohio River. The long descent into Steubenville was fast and fun, and I rolled into town ready to cross the bridge into Weirton, West Virginia. But as I reached the riverfront, I hit a wall, literally! A “Bridge Out” sign blocked my route. The only other nearby crossing was several miles north, so I pedaled there, only to find that it was an interstate with no pedestrian access. Frustrated, I called the city office to ask how a cyclist or pedestrian was supposed to cross. The voice on the other end simply said, “You can’t.” It felt like being stranded. These two cities, Steubenville and Weirton, are less than a mile apart across the river, but the lack of walkable infrastructure turns that short gap into a real barrier. It’s a jarring contrast. Just miles earlier, I had been cruising down the smooth and peaceful Conotton Creek Trail, and later the beautifully maintained Panhandle Trail, both great examples of investment in recreational access and non-motorized travel. These rail trails are often better maintained than the roads that connect the towns around them. But when the trail ends, that progress disappears fast. You’re dumped back onto roads with no shoulder, no signage, and no safe way forward unless you’re in a car. The same communities that build incredible trails often still lack basic everyday infrastructure like sidewalks, crosswalks, or a way to safely get across town or over a river without a vehicle. It’s a reminder of how far we still have to go to make our transportation networks truly work for everyone. For a while I stood at the on-ramp with my thumb out, offering to pay any pickup willing to take me and my bike across. No luck. Eventually, I found a local taxi service called Heavenly Rides that agreed to help. Big thanks to Charles and the team there—they loaded my bike in the back of a minivan and drove me over the Ohio River into Weirton, officially marking my arrival in West Virginia. From there, I jumped on the Panhandle Trail, a 29-mile path that winds through old coal towns and woodlands all the way to Carnegie. The surface was smooth and quiet, a total contrast to the chaos earlier in the day. From Carnegie, I rode a patchwork of city bike routes into the heart of Pittsburgh. Reaching Pittsburgh is a major milestone. Tomorrow I begin the final chapter of this ride, heading southeast on the GAP and C&O Canal Towpath all the way to Washington DC. I checked into a downtown hotel and took a moment to rest and reflect on how far I’ve come, and how close the finish line is. If you’d like to support Veterans Expeditions and their work helping veterans heal through the outdoors, visit www.OneMileFundraiser.com. Thanks again for following along. The end is near, but there’s still some epic trail ahead. And as always, keep on pedaling.