Biking in Northeast Pennsylvania: Hideous Hills, Danville, and More Hideous Hills

It's been a while since I rode to Danville, so yesterday I decided to do so again. I examined all the major routes to Danville and selected the hilliest one. Combine that with the fact that it was about 90 degrees, it was one of the hardest rides in a while. In fact, I brought two bottles of liquids--one of cranberry juice and one of Zero--along for the ride instead of the usual one. My route first took me to Arbutus Park Road, where I took the shortcut to Upper Campus. It was the usual bumpy, grassy ride, and it was all uphill as it rose to the summit of Turkey Hill. For this reason alone, it deserves to be labelled a hideous hill even though it only rises 150-ish feet. But there are some excellent views to make up for it.

Field in the eastern part of the shortcut. It's not my favorite vista, but it's worth posting all the same.

After a while, I reached the my favorite overlook along the path. It looks southwards and one can see Catawissa Mountain, Little Mountain, and (if one looks from the right angle) Nescopeck Mountain. After a few moments, I headed onwards, passing within a few dozen yards of the summit of Turkey Hill, though it would've required some bushwhacking to make it all the way to the summit. Soon after that, I left the trail and began hurtling downhill into Bloomsburg. I mostly followed the usual route to Fernville, but I did make a slight variation on my route into Fernville: I cut down some alleyways in an attempt to avoid the infamously long light at West and Main Street. It almost didn't work, since I came close to getting caught in the one-way-street labyrinth instead. But it all worked out in the end and I crossed Fishing Creek and made it into Fernville quite painlessly. From there, my route took me down Drinker Street and up Red Mill Road, where I passed by the eponymous Red Mill building.

It's definitely red, but it doesn't look like a mill to me.

I then turned onto Ridge Road--or, more properly, a Ridge Road, since there are nearly half a dozen in the area. It crossed Hemlock Creek and then began to climb up through the woods, making it the second major climb.

Hemlock Creek in the woods

I would be pleased to have such a large expanse of grass in my yard, but I have a feeling the landowner doesn't even care about this tract.

From the top of Welliver Road, I descended rapidly (how else does one descend?) to Old Berwick Road and then crossed US Route 11. After riding across Montour Run, the infamous Deussen Drive began its infamous 400-foot rise into the range of hills between Dutch Valley and the Susquehanna River. I stopped once at a hairpin turn, but that did not make the climb any easier. As usual, though, there were great views from the top.

Ugh

Postcard-esque view of Catawissa Mountain

At the end of Deussen Drive, I headed off into unexplored (by bicycle, at least) territory. My two previous rides up the hill had both taken me down into Catawissa; this time I turned right onto Grovania Drive and rode along the ridgeline. There were a lot of short and easy ups and downs, but this was for the most part uneventful.

Deussen again

Looking south towards Montour Ridge

After a while, Grovania Drive began descending to County Line Drive, which sailed serenely into Montour County. I didn't get to stay on this road for long, though; soon I turned onto one of those ominously named roads: Mount Zion Drive. At first it didn't see too bad, but it began to take its toll after a while. The hill rose just over 200 feet.

Grovania Drive, one of those roads that goes from one spot in the uncivilized territory to another spot in uncivilized territory.

Epic view of Dutch Valley

Climbing on Mount Zion Drive

After the top of the hill, there was a short, curvy descent. A car came up behind me and I kept pace with it for a little while. Then the downhill ended and it went out of sight. A short distance later I came to yet another Ridge Road, one I had not yet explored by bicycle.

This is at least the fourth Ridge Road I've ridden on, and that's not counting one Ridge Street.

Surprisingly, there was yet another massive hill on Ridge Road, this time a 350-foot downhill. When I planned the route, I had thought there would only be rolling hills in this stretch, not steep ones going up and down hundreds of feet. Clearly this range of hills requires a name. I shall call it Jakob's Hills. After a while on Ridge Road, I turned onto Toby Run Road. This road immediately began climbing (again!) through the woods, rising about 250 feet in three quarters of a mile.

Ferns

Toby Run Road

After a while, Toby Run Road began descending through the valley of --guess what--Toby Run. It's a pretty small stream, but I still caught a few glimpses of it rushing through the woods down below. I also passed by one of the trailheads to the Myron Hopewell Memorial Park trails. The Humdinger trail race is on those trails and I've been running there a few times, but they're far too technical for me to bike on.

Toby Run Road in the middle of nowhere

At the end of Toby Run Road, I turned left on Clinic Road and continued heading downhill through the valley of Toby Run. For a while, it was just a forested road on the side of a ravine. But suddenly an asylum appeared on one side of the road. It was bordered by a 20-foot-high fence with massive coils of barbed wire. I half expected to see armed guards in watchtowers.

Eerie asylum

At the end of Clinic Road, I left behind Jakob's Hills for good and turned onto the fairly busy East Market Street, passing by an old power plant. Soon enough, I began to approach the Danville borough line.

East Market Street, and a curious building connected to the power plant via some pipes.

Near the border of Danville, I left the road and turned onto a trail that went alongside the top of a dike for about a mile. There was some moderately interesting scenery there, but nothing special.

My bike on the dike.

The Susquehanna River flowing lazily by

The dike path ended in someone's yard, but luckily there was an alleyway close by. A short ride along the alley took me to a regular side street, which I rode into the more urban part of Danville, crossing Sechler Run along the way.

The mighty Sechler Run

After a few tenths of a mile, I crossed Route 11 and began riding along a side street that was bordered by a low red wall on one side. Eventually, I crossed Old Bloom Road and began riding past the hospital. I was quite surprised to find yet another substantial hill there; I had thought this part would be mostly flat. But then, I had only ever been there in the car before.

A tower that vaguely resembles Barad Dur.

Red Lane went through suburban areas with some minor climbs before arriving at Kaseville Road. Along the way, I saw a connector path linking to the Geisinger Stewardship Trails. Might be worth exploring further one of these days. At Kaseville Road, I turned left on the latter road and began the brutal climb up Montour Ridge. It seemed to go on forever and I didn't stop along the way. Finally, 300 feet above Red Lane and an incredible 600 feet above Danville, I reached the summit. I immediately coasted over to the side of the road. It took at least a minute before I had revived enough to do anything. But the views to the south were stunning. Distant ridges twenty or more miles away were quite visible.

Kaseville Road

Looking south from the summit of Montour Ridge

At 1066 feet, the summit of Montour Ridge was the highest point on the ride. I descended 450 feet at a tremendous pace (averaging just under 30 mph and topping 34 mph at times). At the bottom of Montour Ridge, I began heading east on Frosty Valley Road. The next nine or so miles would be mostly flat and uneventful. Frosty Valley Road began with a small climb. I hadn't yet recovered from the battle with Montour Ridge, but I took it slowly and made it up without incident. A few miles further on, I passed into Columbia County, and maybe a mile after that, Frosty Valley Road began to trend in a downhill direction.

Hills

Columbia County, at last

Corn

And more fields

Eventually, I reached the eastern end of Frosty Valley. Frosty Valley Road went up a little hill and dead-ended into Red Mill Road.

Nice shot of Red Mill Road

The rest of the ride didn't contain anything of note either. I rode back to Fernville and then up the Bloomsburg Rail Trail, as I usually do when returning from the west or southwest. From there, I headed to Summit Ave and then up Arbutus Park Road, the last major climb. After a while, the road narrowed to one lane, and a (fortunately chained up) dog tried to chase after me. Then the road became a trail and went through the woods.