Day 50, Virginia
September 3, 2010: From Roanoke to highway 29. Miles pedaled: 52
With two full days off, on the morning of Sep 3rd I was ready to roll. So we loaded both bikes into Jenny's rental car and drove back to the problem area to start anew. Once there we looked everywhere for the missing odometer, but without finding it.
Happiness is when a semi knocks you off your bike and you don't hit the guardrail.
After the accident, the authorities warned us about this curve. lots of accidents, they said.
So we got back in the car and road another mile to a pull out, and I started pedaling from here.
The seven miles to Thaxton, and beyond to Bedford were tough, all because of the traffic. I had to ditch it four times. Enough was enough, so I turned onto the 714, and that made all the difference.
Jenny writes: It felt a bit awkward to be driving sag, but my hand still ached and I knew I could not have squeezed the bike's brake lever, so I decided to simply enjoy the day and the scenery from the comfort of the car.
Ray looked a bit stiff when he first got on his bike, but once he started pedaling I was amazed that he took off as though nothing was wrong with his backside.
We got separated for 30 minutes or so when he decided to take the 714 and I had to backtrack to find him, but soon after I pulled up behind him, he stopped to pick a handful of wild honeysuckle flowers for me.
State route 714 was a much quieter, very pretty, two lane road with lots of hills and gentle bends, and lined in some areas with magnificent old oak trees. For much of this road I was able to drive slowly behind Ray, while pulling off the road now and then to let a vehicle pass.
When we reached route 24, the traffic increased somewhat, so I began to leapfrog Ray. I would drive ahead and then find a safe pullout to park the car, where we could easily spot each other from a distance. This gave me a chance to get out of the car and explore the area for a short while.
Ray writes: At 1:30 we reached highway 29 and called it a day. I was bushed. So we loaded my bike into the rental and Jenny drove us north to find accommodations.
Miles pedaled today: 52
Note: Thanks to the many readers who sent us condolences. But, really, we're fine. It was just one of those things that happens, and we consider ourselves super lucky not to have been riding an inch further out, where we would have been run over rather than just side swiped. And not to have been thrown into that guardrail.
Day 51, Virginia
September 4, 2010: From Highway 29 to Burkeville. Miles pedaled: 80
It was just getting light when we loaded the bikes into the car for the short trip back to where I left off pedaling yesterday. Once there I unloaded my bike and resumed the journey.
The morning was cool and I had a slight tailwind, so I made good time, relatively speaking on this rolling terrain with the many hills, one after the other.
I reached Rustburg with Jenny leapfrogging me in her car, and continued on road 24, which lead eventually to our nemesis highway, number 460, at Concord. From there I continued pedaling to Appomattox and beyond nearly to Evergreen. The traffic on the 460 was fairly light; nevertheless I had to ditch it off the road into the gravel two times when knots of cars neglected to give me enough room. What I call a knot of cars (a close group) is among the most dangerous because the drivers are focused on each other rather than on any hazard along the way.
But nearly to Evergreen the highway became even too dangerous to ditch it when needed, so at a pullout I conferred with Jenny over the map, and decided to try the 615. In retrospect I should have turned onto this at Rustville. We drove south for the 615, and I started pedaling at the equivalent distance.
When the 615 ran out, I took the 665, then a string of lesser roads winding and rolling east. These roads were a pleasure to ride. The terrain was often beautifully forested, and the yards of the rural houses were neatly groomed. The terrain was hilly to be sure, but the exercise felt good.
Eventually we reached Burkeville and called it a day.
Day 52, Virginia
September 5, 2010: From Burkeville to the 615. Miles pedaled: 82
Leaving Burkeville, I started pedaling the good-old 460 just past sunup. For a while I was looking directly into the sun, and the light ahead of me was so bright that I couldn't see my rear view mirror that well, to know what traffic was coming up behind me; and I'm sure the drivers behind me couldn't see me that well either. So I rode much of that section in the gravel next to the highway, at slow speed.
I reached Blackstone and met Jenny at a c-store, and we stopped for snacks. Then into the military reservation of the same name. I enjoyed pedaling through there because the road was well paved, the traffic was light, and the terrain next to the road was essentially free of litter. And the forests that the road passed through appeared healthy.
I continued on road 40, and went through a few small and widely spaced towns. At a town called Stony Creek I had had enough of, what seemed, the inconsiderate drivers, so was thinking of turning onto the 602, but noticed that beyond that town the road was much improved, so I continued following it. And for the next 21 miles to Waverly, I had no problems with the motorists. It was like night and day. Instead of crowding me off the road, causing me to ditch, they would pull over into the far lane.
Also, through that section, I began to smell the ocean, or at least the oceanic influence with the tidal flats and marshes. And also, the terrain was flattening out to some degree.
We had stopped in Waverly for what was to me "third lunches" and got to talking with a couple of motorcycle enthusiasts. Throughout my journey I have met and talked with a lot of these people and have enjoyed meeting them. One guy made a comment that stuck with me. He said, "You have developed a sixth sense for avoiding problem motorists, same as we have." I didn't know about that, but I certainly seemed to have a sixth sense for who is friendly and easy to talk to. Maybe we all have that. But it certainly has made a difference in my trip this summer, knowing that I can talk to certain types of people.
From there I pedaled 6 more miles to the junction with the 615, and called it a day. Lacking motels, I ordinarily would have found a place to camp. But with Jenny's rental car, it was just as easy to load up and drive to a bigger town.
The end of the trip is within reach, only 43 miles left to my final destination on the coast. So tomorrow should be a fun day, with a ferry crossing of the James River, and a bike path from Jamestown to Yorktown.
It was a fun day today also. I am still enjoying the cycling and the beautiful country we are passing through. I am still meeting friendly people, getting plenty of exercise and fresh air, and my body is almost 100 percent recovered except for one big black bruise that is gradually shrinking, and a few scabs on my leg.
Day 53, Virginia
September 6, 2010: From the 615 to Chesapeake Bay. Miles pedaled: 42
We drove back to my stopping point of yesterday - in the dark so that I could get a head start on the traffic. So it was just after dawn when I started pedaling.
The morning was chilly and for the first time in over six weeks I wore my shell jacket. The morning was also quite foggy in places, and at one point I could hardly see where I was going. Whenever I heard a vehicle approaching from behind, I got off the road. In fact I did this many times, fog or not, whenever an inconsiderate driver came too close.
In former times I would allow these types to pass close - 18 inches away or less - on the assumption that they hadn't the foggiest idea how unpleasant that was for a cyclist, or maybe that they didn't care, but that they at least saw me and were paying attention to their driving. Sort of like precision driving, passing close to a hazard, or close to endangering someone. (Never mind that endangering someone is not precision driving.) But no longer. If I see someone coming from behind and not pulling away from the edge, I get off the road.
This I did many times this morning, but at one point the tall grass was hiding a ditch. And as I went down, I'm thinking "What's wrong with some of these Virginia drivers?" then the next thought was "What's wrong with me, cycling on some of these Virginia roads?
Well, I was warned to be extra careful through here, as two cyclists were killed, two days ago, in Yorktown - which is where I'm headed.
With Jenny leapfrogging at regular intervals, I reached the James River in the early morning, and the ferry terminal. This is a free ride across the great expanse, and it was a lot of fun to ride the big, modern ferry. We stood on the prow of the upper deck, admiring the view and watching the seagulls.
We landed on the other side of the river in historic Jamestown, and got onto the Colonial Parkway - which we had understood to be a pleasant bike ride.
This was highly scenic as it paralleled the waterway. The day was sunny and warm, and there were many pullouts where tourists could stop and stroll down to the water's edge.
But the cycling was anything but pleasant. The roadway had a cobbled texture as though it was meant to simulate those of colonial times, being made with large aggregate instead of gravel. The car traffic was unrelenting, and approaching Williamsburg there was even a tunnel with a sign stating: "No Bicycles." I had to go around.
Worse of all, and I don't know what the road builders were thinking, in some places the shoulder-less cobblestone road had a concrete curb. This meant that at any speed above zero, the bicyclers could not get off the road to avoid cars coming up from behind with poor drivers. I'm sure there are safer ways to reach Yorktown, but I couldn't find any at the time. So I kept plugging away, at slow speed with thoughts of the two fatalities of yesterday.
Then I came to a magnificent view of Chesapeake Bay with Gloucester Point across the sound. I was two miles short of Yorktown, but I had reached salt water of the Atlantic Ocean, and wanted no more of cycling the dangerous Colonial Parkway.
So at the far end of a pullout I carried the bike a short ways across the sticker-grass to the rocky shoreline, and stopped to admire the empty oyster and scallop shells lining a small beach.
I had reached trip's end (at 1:00 pm).
Miles pedaled today: 42
Total: 3,783 miles in 54 days.
The TransAmerica Gear that I Started With
I'm not recommending anything, only describing what I used.
- Shoes, well used on my A.T. hike.
- Tool bag, black.
- Handlebar "basket," red, cheap insulated nylon cooler with mounting tabs sewn on.
- Seat and post.
- Spitfire (blue stowbag) used on A.T.
- Clothes bag (blue) contains shells, town shorts, extra pair of socks, sleeping hat, shower slippers; all used on A.T.
- Rain Jacket (green stowbag) used on A.T.
- Quilt, single layer (yellow stowbag) used on A.T.
- TP in baggie (white), atop red bandanna and small, green face towel used on A.T.).
- Cycling gloves with gel padding, black.
- Helmet and rear view mirror.
- Maps and valuables.
- Tarp, Batwing and stakes (purple stowbag) used on A.T.
- Ditty bag, blue, containing personnel effects, all carried on A.T.
- Spare inner tubes (3)
- Pedals, pedal wrench, and packet of tube repair items.
- Roll of extra cord, black, lying on top of white bottle of degreaser.
- SmartPhone, black.
- Phone charger (pink stowbag), used on A.T.
- Can of degreaser/lube (of the type that I don't recommend).
- Yellow rafting bag, waterproof.
- And blaze-orange cover for the back of the yellow rafting bag.
- Plus not shown, my bike packed in a box for the airlines.
- Bicycling the TransAmerica Trail
- Map
- Oregon
- Idaho
- Montana
- Wyoming
- Colorado
- Kansas
- Missouri
- Kentucky
- Virginia