When we finally reached Connellsville, we had no choice but to head east. It was time to pay the piper and pay the piper we did. As soon as we left town, we began heading up. At first, the climb was gradual as the road wound past the houses on the outskirts of town, but as we passed the last of the homes, the road began to tilt further and further towards the sky. The climb didn't seem to end, every time we rounded a bend in the road, hoping to see the summit, the road continued to extend upward, becoming steeper and steeper the closer we got to the top. Finally, the top of the mountain was in our sites, unfortunately, the road stopped winding and began to climb directly to the summit, at a 16 percent grade. It was brutal.

After conquering the summit, Alex and I rested, looking behind us at the ground we had just covered. A man mowing the lawn in front of his house, rode his tractor over to us to ask us about our trip. We exchanged the usual small talk about how long we've been on the road and how many miles we've covered, then the man announced the unpleasant news. "Well, you made it up this hill, but then you drop down there for a little bit and you have to climb over that mountain there." The man pointed across a little valley to a mountain almost one and a half times the size of the one we just climbed.

"Is it all downhill from there?" Alex asked, knowing the answer.

The man laughed. "Welcome to south western Pennsylvania. Nothing's downhill around here. "

A few mountains later, we reached a valley and turned on a road that followed a stream. We decided we would follow the relatively flat road north as far as it would take us and then head east once we reached Johnstown. When we got to the town of Indian Head, we came upon a "Y" in the road. The road that we were on, seemed to bend to the right instead of branch off to the left. There was no one around to ask, and to be honest, it didn't appear to be necessary, it seemed quite apparent that the road we were on, did in fact branch to the right.

In retrospect, this was a poor decision. It was probably equally unwise not to ask the first person we saw in Indian Head. In fact, it was probably rather idioditic of us not to ask which direction the road we were on was heading until we reached the top of Seven Springs ski resort about 9 miles to the east of Indian Head. When you're on your bike, stupidity is usually paid for immediately. Between Indian Head and Seven Springs we had to climb 3 mountains, each about a mile long (straight up, then straight down) with a 16 percent grade. We could sit on the top of one mountain, look almost straight down to the bottom and then straight across the little dip, about two miles away and see the top of the next mountain. It was ridiculous how long and steep these climbs were, amusement park engineers wouldn't even build rollercoasters this steep.