Out of the Hobbit Hole: A Rest Day in Blacksburg

Well here I am in Blacksburg, VA on day 10 of my trip. It's been quite a week! Last Friday night I stayed on the southern side of Fredericksburg after my last rest day. My host was a scout master who has led a few teams of boy scouts across the country on bicycle and he described his adventures doing that. There was another guy staying that night in the same home who was working on making a complete circuit of the US on bicycle. He'd started out in (I believe) Washington state, worked his way down the Pacific coast, made his way across the southern tier of the US and was in the midst of heading northwards where he would take the northern tier and finish back where he started in the pacific northwest. He rides alone. That made me feel a little safer/ easier about my little trip.

The following morning I headed south towards Doswell, VA whose only claim to fame is King's Dominion. I met a fellow cyclist named Laurie and we rode a ways together, perhaps 5 miles or so. She was practicing for a ride for Multiple Sclerosis and we got a chance to share some stories and pray together. A little while after parting ways I was riding over some railroad tracks and took a tumble scraping up my forearm and elbow. Nothing very serious so I just kept going and treated it once I got to my hosts' house. I saw a couple of minor historic sights there. There was a cabin whereat Stonewall Jackson drank from this lady's water pitcher. After she found out who the guy was she refused to let anyone else drink from that pitcher. And I saw an historic cemetery wherein were buried the wife of a signer of the Declaration of Independence, a soldier from the Revolutionary War and a confederate soldier. Of course there were others buried there, just those 3 stood out. The house I stayed at in Doswell had so much character, though, that it almost felt historic in and of itself! I can't even really put it into words. It had really taken on the personality of its owners from the decorations to the materials used to craft it to the little things that all mix together into an amalgam of beauty. The closest thing I've ever seen to this place was my grandma's house in Asheville, NC.

On Sunday morning I called a couple Walmart stores in Ashland, VA who'd expressed interest in seeing me as I passed through to tell them that where I was staying was right smack dab on the trail West and that it would be so much easier for me to just bypass Ashland and head for Palmyra, VA. They said that was just fine and they completely understood so after getting off the phone I headed due West for my first real day crossing the US. It was a fairly uneventful ride and I got to Palmyra in the late afternoon. I did bump into another cyclist named Warren who rode with me perhaps about 5 miles or so. He shared some tidbits of local history with me and we parted ways right as I got into Palmyra. My host met me at a gas station and gave me a ride to his house. That evening was spent enjoying dinner, drinking a mixed drink and watching The Hunt for Red October with my host and his roommate.

The next morning I had a *major* scare! Got all my bags packed, got a ride back to the gas station from the previous evening, loaded everything onto Fledge, and prepared to set off. But then I couldn't find my cycling cleats. They weren't in my bags or in my host's car or at the house. It seemed they were just gone. Nowhere. I can't ride without cleats. Not long distances anyway. It's kind of like loading up your car only to discover you don't have your keys. I looked behind the gas station. Nothing. Behind the next building over where I'd leaned Fledge up against a railing. Nothing. I was about to start panicking. Then my host walks into the gas station and asks the attendant. They'd found my cleats the previous evening and brought them inside in case I came back looking for them. I desperately tried to get the attendant to take a $10 gift of profuse thanks for holding them for me but he insisted that it was unnecessary and would not take it. Riding down the road that day I was thanking God for protecting me from my own stupid mistakes and foolish decisions.

About 2 hours after leaving Palmyra, I hit Charlottesville, VA in all its glory. I made a significant detour to go see an old college buddy and stop at a Walmart store. Adding that detour tacked on almost 17 miles to my route, not counting how much time I would spend lost trying to figure out how to get back on the Adventure Cycling map. I eventually got back on track but spent a LOT of energy and composure in the process. That ride had several low points where I was just sweating my brains out, not sure I was headed in the right direction and very mildly dehydrated. On my way towards my host's home I stopped at a convenience store and purchased the freaking best 2 bottles of Gatorade I have ever tasted in the entire history of my life! I can't even express how good that gatorade was! Literally no words!

I ended up getting where I was going just before the sun really went down. At this point it was about 8 pm and I'd been on the bike for about 11 hours. Another beautiful home. I felt like I was in an elvish residence at Rivendell. It was just magic. Had chicken, cabbage and mushrooms for dinner and hit the sack. The next day I'd be going over the Blue Ridge Parkway and would need my energy.

I hit the road about 9 am and the ride was relatively easy until I started heading up the mountain. That morning, the mountain beat me. I made it about a third of the way up but my legs were just so sore and I was breathing so heavily. I walked the bike the rest of the distance up the mountain and even that was a real test of strength. On getting to the top, I took a nice break, drank a good bit of water and snapped some pictures. Now when you're on the parkway it's not too bad. You've got a good number of hills and dips but it's nothing like getting up to the parkway itself. After a while I got myself "in the zone" and when I would come up against a somewhat daunting hill I would insult it telling it that it was about to be beaten by a guy who hadn't even been a serious cyclist a year and a half ago. This was a very effective tactic. haha

On approaching my descent into Vesuvius, VA I said a quick prayer that my brakes would hold. This was an insane downgrade. I basically rode my brakes the whole entire way down and even then took a breather when my hands started to get really sore from holding the brakes in place. But I made it to the bottom without a broken neck or any damage to my bicycle.

That night I was in a cabin off the beaten path without running water, electricity or anything except (amazingly) a few bars of cell phone reception. It reminded me of Christopher McCandless' bus. I camped outside as the cabin was a tad warm for me and got much better sleep than I'd expected.

The next day's destination was Buchanan, VA about 45 miles down the road. I made it there between 4-5 hours later and, since I hadn't found a host, decided to splurge on a motel room. After an 11 hour ride followed by climbing a mountain I desperately needed a good shower and a soft bed to sleep in. I ate dinner at the only restaurant within walking distance even though it was just a tad on the pricey side. The waiter, on seeing how hungry I was, brought out some dried fruits and nuts for me at no additional charge and when I told him what I was doing on bicycle he got me a cup of noodles to take along!

Yesterday's ride was LONG at 55+ miles to Blacksburg, VA. A good bit of it felt like I was riding through the French countryside with rolling hills, beautiful scenery, several wineries and many farms. My approach into Blacksburg was incredibly hilly but I rode the entire way without walking. Last night I ate a huge dinner at a mexican restaurant and got a fantastic night's sleep. Now to enjoy my day off!