Day 14:
After our surprise of having a room last night, we woke rested and ready for another 50 mile day. We started relatively flat on the flood plain. It seems the first 10 miles always fly by and I think the day will be easy. That always turns out to be wrong.
Another homemade bridge.
More bike art?
Then we came to this. Yep, that’s our road.
This first climb was 3.6 miles. I actually saw this climb a year ago when planning the route and thought it looked terrible on the map. In the past year, every once in a while, I would think of it. It was kind of surreal that today I had to actually do it. It was so steep and relentless. I was back to being 3-1/2-mile-an-hour girl. I stopped after one and a half miles for a snack: three Ritz cracker cheese sandwiches. They were so good. I promised myself I could have three more after I got up the next mile.
I also played mind games with myself as I climbed. I composed blog posts that seemed like great ideas but weren’t. I chatted with the gnat that hitch hiked up the hill by hovering right in front of my nose. At the top, there was no view, but I rested while I waited for Deidre and ate a cliff bar. White chocolate chunk, macadamia. The best.
No pictures of the descent. It was too steep. In fact, both descents today were hard. They were so steep and winding I had to brake hard and stop regularly to cool my brake rims and keep my hands from cramping.
The farmland was different on the other side of that unnamed (to me) mountain. Less tall grass gave it a less flowy look.
Then this guy passed me as I was going up a hill. 😂 Never seen a turtle this big on the side of a road before. Is it a snapper?
I tried to take pictures of the first switch backs using a panoramic view, but it bent the road so much it looked like a circle. This is actually a regular picture on the descent. The turn was so sharp it was a U-turn
I was noticing today how fences indicate status. There are the painted white slat fences for the wealthy, the unpainted slat and also the rail fences for the less wealthy, barbed wire with wood posts is another step down, and then finally barbed wire with metal garden stakes from the hardware store bringing up the rear. So then I saw this fence made out of real logs, and I wondered: what do real logs say about a person?
We arrived in camp at a community park and were again surprised by how nice the free accommodations are. We have a pavilion with power and water and bathrooms that are open all night. There isn’t even an incorporated town here, but these folks have built a really nice park for the community. Word appeared to spread quickly that we were here and many people drove by throughout the evening to check us out or to say hello. One old guy went by three times on his motorcycle before he got up the nerve to stop and say hello. Another pulled up and asked if he could bring us anything because he lived “ just around the corner” and “ could bring us some water if we needed it.”
A shorter day tomorrow. It will be our last day riding in Virginia (yes, we are still in Virginia 😆).
Distance: 51 miles
Elevation: 5840
Day 13
Happy birthday Deidre!!
We got a late start for what we knew would be a long day up and over mt rogers. We stocked up on water and snacks, knowing there wouldn’t be much along the way. That’s going to be the case for a while I think.
Do you see the little friend peeking out of the “house”?
We could see the “hills” coming in the distance.
And just like that—no more fields.
It took two 6 mile climbs to reach the top. I went about 4-5 mph most of the time. In between the climbs, there were meadows.
And streams.
And horse campgrounds with hitching posts—who knew?!
At last we reached the top, which was anticlimactic because, as my mom pointed out, we didn’t actually go to the top, just next to the top. We r cyclists, not rock climbers, after all!
There was no sign indicating the summit, but there was a Route 76 sign (the trans am follows this into KY).
Then it was 10 miles of downhill. No pics because I was too busy holding on as I careened through the turns at 25-30 mph. I could only hear the wind and the sound of the river crashing over rocks as waterfalls kept sliding in and out of my peripheral vision. With the constant movement and sound of water, I began to feel like I was the water swooping down the mountain from bend to bend.
The downhill ended at the VA Creeper trail in Damascus.
By now it was 5pm and we still had 15 miles to go. And I was starving. Everything was closing because Sunday is a thing in Southern VA, but we finally found an open restaurant where I scarfed down a “veggie plate” that contained mac & cheese, corn bread, mashed sweet potatoes and some squash. Not big on green stuff around these parts!!
Then we tried to leave town to ride our last 15 miles and we’re told the road was closed 2 miles out because of an accident. We threw in the towel and got a room.
We are near the Appalachian trail again, thus this mural. Not sure what I think of it.
More bike art! 😆
Lesson of the day: close your mouth for big downhills or it will get really really dry and catch bugs.
Distance: 50 miles.
Days 11-12
Day 11 was a rest day in Claytor Lake State Park. We laid around and did nothing, including no posting on the blog. I did do some yoga, and I read my novel.
We went out for dinner and I actually had a beer!
We needed the rest because Day 12 was hard. Fifty miles and about 3800 ft of elevation—from Claytor lake to rural retreat. We began to enter much more rural territory, requiring planning for food and water. We stopped in a market in Max Meadows, Va for lunch. I walked in hoping for something fresh— a green pepper or cucumber I could just eat whole. There was no produce. Maybe everyone there grows their own vegetables? The shelves were nearly bare. But I found a few little containers of coleslaw next to some American cheese and a few quarts of milk. That would do! So I had coleslaw on crackers for lunch.
Then it was back to climbing hills—like this one.
And looking at views, like this one.
Rain couds came in and went by, again missing us.
One of these things is not like the other…
Another red barn.
Meanwhile it was up and down and up and down. But all the downs felt like up because we were climbing our way towards Mt Rogers.
I’ve noticed all of these little towns seem alive and well, with obvious efforts to build community and celebrate the town’s history and residents. Radford had the senior pictures of Radford High grads on flags hanging from all the town light posts. This town of Wytheville had painted this little strip center and called it The Old Stage Mall.
And the town of rural retreat had painted these silos bright orange with the town name. I just felt a sense of town pride coming from all of these places.
At long last, we arrived at Rural Retreat Lake Campground.
Campsites were wooded and quiet. Forgot to take a pic. But I did take a pic of the shower because it was memorable. Deidre first went and said “ it’s not for me.” But I was sticky with sunscreen and it was a humid night. It was a far cry from the brand new bathhouse (with full soap dispensers!) we enjoyed at Claytor lake. This was one stall that opened directly to the outside with a flimsy and opened screen door, cinder block walls and lots of spiders. Deidre didn’t realize there was actually a real door you could close. When I saw that, I was all in! But I won’t lie, I did find a daddy-long- leg crawling up my leg when I was drying off (but it’s ok because even though they’re poisonous enough to kill you, their mouths are too small to bite you—right? This is what my friends told me as a kid).
This is me in my “nest” at night. All tucked in and ready for the thunderstorms that never came.
We slept for 10 straight ours last night—from 8:15 pm to 6:15 am. We were exhausted. Up in the bunkhouse, people with names like Twisted, Cheers, and Struggle Bus were finishing breakfast and hitting the trail. Everyone on the “AT” (Appalachian Trail) has a trail name. The woman we bunked with introduced herself as Dorothy but later confessed her real name was Kris. I don’t think she quite got the spirit of the naming game. Unless maybe her hiking experiences take her to Oz?
Everyone in the bunkhouse helps out, so a young guy with French braids and a handlebar mustache made me some scrambled eggs. I didn’t get his name, but i bet it was good. When I finished eating, i went to help with the dishes but they were already done. I searched for something to contribute for fear of being slapped with some kind of slacker monicker like Sleeps and Eats.
Here is the bunkhouse.
It was fun to be at this juncture between the Trans Am (“TA”) and the AT. These folks with their one backpack made Deidre and I look like the kind of traveler who shows up with 20 designer suitcases and a puse that holds a dog.
Things got back to normal after that. ANOTHER beautiful day. We have been so crazy lucky. Fewer views and more woods and houses today. And still more fences. I Guess everything is fenced off out here in the “wild” so it’s hard to get a picture without one.
But also more fields of yellow flowers!
And another Snoopy sighting! Snoopy too is on the move.
It was also my Bday today. We tried to get donuts in two different shops and both were closed! So the road owes me a a big fat hunk of fried chocolate dough with glaze. And if you’re wondering, this is what a bday beer looks like when you still have 20 miles to ride in the southwestern VA hills! 😂
Dinner in camp? Birthday PB&J!
Now we are settled for a much needed rest day tomorrow. Planning to sit by the water and read my book.
Distance: 53 miles
Day 9
We woke this day to find Micha (aka “Stone Legs”) had arrived in the night. He said he is a “trail angel,” someone who shuttles people to and from hiking spots or delivers supplies to campsites. He was meeting some hikers coming off the Appalachian trail. Thus, our first introduction to the culture surrounding this trail. More would come later. Stone Legs made homemade jewelry, so we each bought a bracelet from him.
On the road that morning we followed the river and passed many little homesteads. They had small houses and yards and big gardens. Some had a single cow or pig and some goats. I didn’t take pictures of houses because so many had people out front working on their cars or mowers or other such chores. I was struck by the homemade feel of everything—things made with the materials on hand.
Homemade decks with fake grass carpeting on spindly metal frames.
There were a few RR crossings on private property with no gates, unofficial looking little signs, and layers of asphalt.
And lots of homemade bridges that had never seen a regulation in their life.
This one is kinda pretty, but I saw a similar one that was made of logs.
This area seemed so separate from the rest of the world—I would have loved to stop for a glass of iced tea and a chat to learn more. And I could see how our different lives could give us very different views of the world.
Eventually the trail rose out of the river valley toward Christiansburg. So up, up, up. We were tired this day, and my legs were heavy. We had planned shorter miles, but I felt the fatigue by mile 11–as soon as the road began to rise.
Still, lots of great stuff to look at.
Bicycle art is alive and well in Southwestern Va.
Random brilliant sprays of flowers popping out of the side of the road.
Endless upward leaning roads stretching into puffy skies.
Gentle fields and rounded mountains.
And still more road to be ridden.
Finally, after one of the most harrowing stretches of downhill I had ever ridden on, we arrived at a grocery a mile or so from our hostel. We bought Little Debbie’s for a treat. 😀
And the our home for the night.
The bunkhouse was full so we thought we’d have to camp, but the guy who ran the place (Twisted) offered us two empty single beds in the basement of the house. It was cool, there was only one other woman, the three of us had a bathroom to ourselves (everyone in the bunkhouse -20 or so- shared 1 toilet and an outhouse), and we were next to the laundry. And they just happened to have some leftover veggie lasagna and salad. Was this heaven?
Distance: 39 miles
And views.
Day 8
Week 2! It’s already going by fast. After yesterday, today was a breeze. We followed the South River for 13 miles southwest out of Vesuvius. Flat with a tail wind!
Lots of cows.
We stopped in Lexington for lunch at macados. Cool little town.
Then continued south towards Christiansburg. On the way I ran into Kevin, a cyclist from Breckinridge who had started touring in Yorktown. Zigzagging all over the place. He was soft spoken and maybe a little lonely. Glad I have Deidre for company. This would be tough alone.
Crossed over 81 and the sky started to look blustery.
But we skirted by the rain and sailed into Buchanan (BUCK uh nin —we learned from a local with a sleepy southern drawl) after 4 glorious downhill miles on route 11.
In addition to Kevin, 2 other local cyclists rode with us at different times to chat and share about local history—the origins of Plank road—and another guy stopped in a pick up truck to advise us of a flatter route to “BUCK-uh-nin.”
Everyone is so interested in offering a hand. It restores your faith.
Dinner in camp? PBJ and a Moon pie!
Distance: 48 miles
