Laurie and I were supposed to ride the VA Capital trail this fall. We said we'd be picky, go when the weather's nice, we had plenty of time. But then the weather forced us to cancel our plans twice. Then, when we agreed on a new weekend at the beginning of October, the campsite had begun maintenance on their shoreline, so sites were limited, and full. Same for the next weekend. With our schedules, that meant we wouldn't be able to do the ride until November.
So we decided on a new and better plan. Ride somewhere else along the Eastern Shore, Northern Neck, or elsewhere pretty and involving water. But all those campgrounds were full too--until one nice lady told Laurie about Gwynn's Island. So Laurie booked it and I set about planning a route.
We planned to ride from New Kent Middle School in New Kent, VA, to the campground. But route options were scarce. I did the best I could and planned a loop. Forty-seven miles there, and 51 miles home. But from looking at Google Maps, I was concerned about traffic. The roads didn't appear to have big shoulders, and in a couple of street views, I saw tractor trailers. Yikes. But we decided it would be an adventure and we'd just see how it went.
Bike's all packed.
And we're ready to head out from the middle school.
New Kent Highway, our first road, was rolling and beautiful, but also had a 55mph speed limit and no shoulder. It was early though--8:40 a.m., so cars were not a problem. Six miles of that brought us to Rte. 33. This is basically a highway with a modest shoulder. Also early, so not too bad. But also, no pictures. There was nothing to take pictures of, but also, the riding required focus to watch for debris and stay aware of the passing cars and trucks.
The little village of West Point is nestled between the Mattaponi and Pamunkey Rivers, where they converge to form the York River south of the town. Below is the Pamunkey River right before we crossed the bridge into West Point.
Further down the road, we stopped at a Dollar General so Laurie could buy Gatorade. It was nice to get a break from the road because in the few miles leading up to and after West Point, the shoulder disappeared. There was no sidewalk despite many business establishments. And no shoulder. Just a white line and a curb, and speeding traffic.
Eventually the shoulder returned and we hoofed it to the intersection of routes 33 and 17 where we stopped in a bank parking lot to have lunch. There was a horse trailer parked in the same parking lot with a horse in the back. Maybe the driver was napping? Strange.
And we were back on the road which had now turned to Route 198. Also a two lane road with a narrow shoulder and a 55 mph speed limit. One thing I will say, when there is no scenery beyond an occasional golden soy field and no shoulder, you tend to ride faster. With bikes packed, we rode consistently in the 14 to 17 mph range and made great time.
After about 20 miles on Route 198, we finally came to our turn at Route 223 in Hudgins, where I expected we'd get some relief. This is the road that leads over the bridge to the island, so I didn't imagine there would be too much traffic. The 711 at the corner had it's old slogan on it's sign. It had new meaning for us - thank heaven we'd reached a safer road!
The church at the corner of 198 and 223. It was pretty but I thought it had that old New England austerity about it--like you see in the Puritan cemeteries and churches of Boston. It was "organized" in 1776 - don't know when the building was built.
Laurie coming over the drawbridge onto Gwynn's Island. It opened just after we passed. I wondered if they'd been waiting for us. Good thing we didn't stop to take a picture!
On the surface, Gwynn's Island was super cute.
Route 223 ran along the East Coast of the island, with great views of Hills Bay.
We arrive at our camp ground!
The view into the camp ground.
Laurie went in to register us.
We set up on the playground accidentally. The tent area was just to the right but hidden behind a row of cars. We couldn't see it. Kind of embarrassing, but whatever, they let us stay and even brought us a picnic table.
We were hungry, and there was only one option for dinner: The Hole in the Wall (no grocery store, convenience store, or other restaurant on the island). We didn't want to risk not getting a table or other catastrophe, so we decided to unpack, set up, shower later, and ride the 3 miles back to the bridge and the restaurant to eat.
We got a great little table on the deck with views of the bay, Milford Haven.
The food was excellent. Here is Laurie's pic of her salad. We also had fried local oysters, onion rings, and beer. Excellent meal. I was soooo stuffed when we finished.
On the ride back to the campsite, we stopped to check out some of the local houses. This is as fancy as it got - which was so refreshing. Little cute houses everywhere.
I guess they didn't want us to park here.
When we got back to the campsite they had delivered a picnic table to us. Hurray!
The fishing pier.
The beach.
Here you can see the kayaks next to the boat house. We could have taken them out, but we were too tired. Now that I'm home I kind of regret that decision, but enough was enough for the day. Kayaking would have meant going out along the rock retaining wall or around the point into Milford Haven, which felt like bigger, more open water. I think we more had the energy for kayaking in a pond!
Once the sun was down, it got cold. We didn't have much choice but to crawl into our tents. Afterward, I realized we should have wrapped ourselves in our sleeping bags so we could stay outside longer. But it was fine. We were tired. I crawled in, read my Creative Nonfiction magazine, and listened to the music of the band playing across the water in the campground pavilion. Some of the music was good - but other songs were just too loud for my mood.
Meanwhile, Laurie was freezing and asking for Advil, but my phone was off. :(
I dozed a bit then woke at 10:30 p.m. as planned and we went to the bathroom. I gave Laurie Advil and tucked in for the night. And I pretty much fell asleep immediately. I woke off and on, and could feel the cold at the edges of my sleeping bag, but was generally comfortable.
Laurie didn't fare as well. Her arm fell asleep and she was cold, despite bringing a fuzzy hat. I felt bad she'd have to ride 51 miles with so little sleep.
Here we are packed up to leave. I'm always amazed when the camp equipment disappears and magically folds up onto a bike.
On our way off the island, we saw what I thought was a pileated woodpecker fly into the woods. It was our only real wildlife sighting of the weekend, which I found strange. No deer. Maybe a few hawks.
What we did see a lot of, that I've neglected to mention so far, is the political signage in the area. From New Kent to the island it was Trump all the way. So many Trump signs. But not only that, huge ones, multiple ones, and American flags. The area wreaked of fanaticism. It was so bad I felt compelled to stop for a photo with these Biden signs. It wasn't just their rarity, but that one was homemade, they included a small American flag, and there were flowers. If the timing had been better I would have eaten lunch here. It felt so friendly.
But then there was Gwynn's Island, where it only got worse. The very first house on the island was flying a Confederate flag. Others had big Confederate flags up on flag poles. In the camp ground, people were all flying Trump flags alongside American flags. Then there was this crazy shit: Trump's face photoshopped onto a Rambo-like image holding a rocket launcher? WTF? I stopped to take a photo of it on our way out, but I actually felt nervous doing so. These people are completely crazy.
So while we thought it was beautiful, when we left the island in the morning, we were ready.
Here's the Hole in the Wall in the morning.
Laurie heading back out over the bridge.
After buying fruit and donut holes at the 711, we turned left of 198 for a different ride home. We hoped with it being early Sunday morning (around 8 a.m.), we'd see less traffic. At first that was true.
We stopped briefly at Fort Nonsense park. I don't know if there was an actual fort to see. If so, it was down a path and we didn't really have time (with racing the traffic and all). But I wanted to know how the fort got it's name. Apparently, enslaved people were made to build the fort to protect the area from a Union Army invasion that never came. Since the fort never served its intended purpose, it was named "Fort Nonsense."
One nice thing about the park: it had a porta-potty! Just as I was deciding to walk over and use it, a car came roaring into the parking lot, skidding a bit on the gravel. It parked in front of the potty then an old guy jumped out and ran into the John. I was like - what? He just cut in front of me! It was okay because he wasn't long, but how strange. He obviously knew that porta-potty was there. And wasn't there a better place for a local to pee?
Miles later, we'd ridden for about 15 miles on dangerous Route 14 and had been riding for a while on Route 17 (highway, but with decent shoulder), when we stopped to look for the Walmart (you know you're desperate when you're looking for a Walmart!). I saw this Peace Frogs sign. It looked old, but it appeared to have a current message about peace, and it came as such a relief after the miles of Trump signs on roads where there was a clear disregard for cyclists (not one single bike lane on the entire ride and not one single cycling-related sign outside of one in New Kent).
But here was a message I could absorb.
Then we saw several Biden signs in a row. We commented that we must have hit an area where all the Lefties had gathered together for safety. Soon after, we rode into the town of Gloucester. All of the sudden there were cute cafes and artsy looking stores (all closed on Sunday). And in the center, was an historical town square.
Here is the entryway to the town center.
Inside it was like the lawn of a university campus or an old town center with all the essential buildings gathered together. It looked like they were doing work on some of the buildings, and there was a need for more historical signage to explain what things were, but it was still a relief to find some attention to things cultural.
Of course, it's Virginia, so there was a monument in the center to the local Confederate soldiers lost in the war. I don't begrudge a town remembering its dead. And I was glad there was no evidence of the Confederacy. Often these monuments come with little Confederate flags. There was nothing like that.
I thought it was fitting that after Gloucester, this was our next stop. An old convenience store that was closed (for Sunday) with a ripped out public phone and another porta-potty.
We ate our bars and nuts here and were satisfied. Then I decided to use the porta-potty. And AGAIN, just as I said that, a car whipped into the parking lot, and a woman jumped out and ran into the john. Then when she was done a guy got out and ran in. While he was using the facilities, the woman threw a half of a toasted English muffin out of her car window right in front of us. It bounced on the pavement with the kind of clatter toast makes when you drop it. Then the guy came out, jumped in the car, and they sped off.
These folks also must have been local since there clearly knew the potty was there. Why do people in these parts go driving around using portable johns?
At last we came the New Kent Highway, which we turned onto with relief. Only 6 more miles of riding on wooded rolling hills with no pavement and few cars.
And we were back! I was so glad to see the car as it had crossed my mind more than once that perhaps someone would get a mind to tow it.
We packed up and had a leisurely lunch at the Trojan Grill just 700 feet from where we parked. I definitely needed to eat. I'd only eaten donuts, snack mix, a banana, and part of a protein bar while riding 51 miles. Definitely not enough carbs. I made up for it with a crab and cream cheese flat bread. Laurie ate a grilled cheese and green tomato sandwich. The best part was the Pocahoptas IPA we drank from Ashland, VA.
Then, if only we could have napped!
Instead, we capped it off with a 3-hour drive home in traffic on 95 with more sounds of cars and truck passing in our ears!
Distance: 108 miles - 55 Saturday (w/extra 6 miles to eat) & 53 Sunday
Speed: Touring speed - about 13.7 each day
Here's the never-to-be-used-again cue sheet.
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