Columbia Woman Biking Around the Chesapeake Bay

Stacy Heiliger had made it to Havre de Grace by Wednesday morning, though she still didn't have a concrete plan.

By late April, she’ll have completed her quest—cycling from Columbia, around the Chesapeake Bay, and back.

There's only one problem: bikes don’t work so well on water.

Once in Havre de Grace, Heiliger, 33, thought she’d stop in Chesapeake Cycle and Sport on Washington Street to get a ride across the Susquehanna River.

“It’s empty,” she said. “And there’s this sign on the window that says, ‘On the offseason we’re going to be closed doing some remodeling,’ and I’m like, ‘No!’ ”

So the energetic, free spirit tried  on the corner of Franklin and St. John streets. The bike transport across the Hatem Bridge was $10.

On a miniscule budget, she declined.

Then she met Jim Dryden, who gave her a free ride over the longest river on the East Coast.

It was just one of many hurdles Heiliger will face this month as she tries to cycle around the Chesapeake Bay and back to Columbia.

There are three routes from Harford County across the Susquehanna River. The Hatem Bridge (which carries Route 40) and the Tydings Bridge (which carries I-95) are both closed to pedestrians and cyclists. The Conowingo Dam—atop which Route 1 crosses the river—allows bicycles, but it was too far north and too narrow for Heiliger to consider.

By mid-Sunday, she was likely pedaling around somewhere between Easton and Salisbury.

Heiliger grew up in Woodlawn, lived in Colorado for about seven years, and has been back in Maryland for going on two years.

She’s currently not employed, having recently worked for her father’s music business.

She’s single. No children. No mortgage. Her 1996 Toyota Tacoma is paid off. She has no debt.

Time—something she has plenty of—is on her side.

Heiliger hopped on her Koga Miyata touring bike, which she found on Craigslist this winter, with camping gear towing behind. She has her cell phone, a bunch of gift cards for stores, and a Nook e-reader.

Life is good.

“I wanted to do some long-distance cycling,” she said. “I grew up in Baltimore, and I thought that it would be very cool to do some exploring around the bay. And I thought it would be cool to see some places that I’ve seen when I was a kid, and see some places that I’ve never been to before.”

She’ll be traveling at a “mellow pace” of about 50 miles a day.

“That gives me some time to ride in the morning, check out some places, take some pictures, and not feel like I have to skip over too much,” she said.

The plan, as she told Patch while taking a break for a milkshake at the Dunkin’ Donuts in Perryville this past Wednesday, was to reach Easton by Saturday night, where she had planned to stay with a friend. In between, she was looking at Elk Neck State Park and Betterton as potential rest stops.

If you thought strategizing a way across a measly river was a hardship, imagine trying to map out where you’ll sleep for two straight weeks.

“I think the next challenge is where I’m going to stay,” she said. “There are some wildlife refuge areas, but there’s not any state parks. There is some camping. But I’ll figure it out. I’m not stressed about it.”

Recommendations came in for Nanticoke and Crisfield. She had plans to visit Assateague and Chincoteague after stopping in to visit her aunts in Salisbury.

“I am going all the way down,” Heiliger said, running her index finger past the edge of a folded paper map. “The [Chesapeake Bay Bridge] Tunnel goes to Norfolk.  You can’t ride through the tunnel, but I’ve heard you can get the [Department of Transportation] to drive you through.”

Heiliger’s brother, David, did a similar trip a few years ago. She said her brother and his friends got to the tunnel and “saw people with bikes that had a sign that said ‘we’ll pay your toll.’ ”

Heiliger is utilizing the web for more than just buying a bike and equipment. She’s visited couchsurfing.org and warmshowers.org to help with planning.

“They’re both reciprocal hospitality sites, where people who like to travel and like to host travelers, they post what they have to offer,” Heiliger said. “They say, ‘I live in this town and you can camp in my back yard.’ Or, ‘I have a futon that you can sleep on.’ I’ve never used it before.”

Heiliger admitted she was nervous about using such a site, but she found it very helpful on her first overnight, staying with a family in Joppatowne.

It’s all about keeping things low-budget.

“I have stuff to cook food. I’ve got my camp stove and everything. I don’t plan on eating out every meal,” she said. “I imagine I’m going to end up in a motel at least once or twice.”

Budgeting is key for Heiliger, as this trip is a warm-up for a bigger one. She calls it a “shakedown,” enabling her to plan a budget and analyze her gear in hopes of spending a few months on her bike.

“I want to see how much it costs. I want to see if I’m enjoying it by the end,” she said. “So far I am. [It depends on] how the weather does, how my body feels. My butt hurts really bad right now. So all of those things. After I’m done, I’m going to re-assess. If everything is positive, then I’m probably going to take off and do a longer trip, multiple months long. I’ve already seen this gear is great, and this gear isn’t.”

In the worst-case, if she decides it costs too much or the gear she has isn’t the best, Heiliger is at least getting a chance to visit some “nooks and crannies” around the bay.

And that’s not all that bad.

“One of the things I love about the East Coast is the ocean. The Chesapeake Bay is such a unique spot,” she said. “You have little towns, a combination of working class, regular people, and then touristy nooks and crannies, and then there are some little nooks where people don’t go because they’re kind of tucked away. So that kind of combination of that and the nature side of it, I’m kind of excited to be doing it.”

Wednesday’s stop in Havre de Grace gave her a chance to see one of the northernmost points on the bay. She visited the , where the Susquehanna River and the bay meet.

“I’ve got a little picture of my bike next to the sign that says this is the top of the bay,” Heiliger said. “It’s a nice little town. It’s nice and quiet and mellow. And everybody was very nice to me.”

Nice. Quiet. Mellow.

Those words also describe the cyclist driven to explore her home state.

Dryden reciprocated in kindness. Many more are likely to do the same for Heiliger in the coming weeks. She seems naturally relaxed. Chill, with the attitude befitting of a surfer or snowboarder.

Part of that might be natural. It may be enhanced by the utter freedom she has to complete her mission.

She spoke of the people she shares the roads with—motorists who “tend to be focused on where they're driving, how they’re getting there, what they forgot to do at home, the phone that’s ringing beside them, the laundry they’ve got to pick up, their kids who are late for soccer practice.”

They’re in their own world, as Heiliger says.

This month, Heiliger is in her own world, too.

It’s called freedom.

So for every unknown—how she’ll cross the bay in Southern Maryland, where she’ll stay on the many nights she spends on the Eastern Shore, what she’ll eat—Hieliger will find an answer.

“I’m not too stressed about it,” she said. “I’ve been trying to be easy-going about the trip.”