I should have known better to complain about hills when West Virginia loomed in our immediate future. Geoff and I, mainly Geoff, decided we would try to coordinate with Geoff's friend from Philadelphia to go climbing in Red River Gorge. The plan was formed, once again, by Geoff (I am removing myself from any position of responsibility for what had to happen next). We would need to be at Red River Gorge by Friday morning and at that point we were roughly 300 miles away - it was Monday. In most circumstances, this would be feasible, but not when your trek takes you through West Virginia, the Mountain state. There was a certain amount of disagreement about the validity of this plan. Tempers may have flared and certain words used that shouldn't be repeated. Eventually there was a Plan B: we would select a rendezvous within a reasonable distance and get a lift to Red River Gorge.
Ok, so we're getting a ride for a hundred miles. We'll call it two days of riding and if I didn't mention it you wouldn't have known. Besides, here we have an opportunity to go climb in Red River Gorge with someone bringing all the gear we'll need. If there is one thing I have learned from this trip so far it is that you do not let a good opportunity pass by. Charleston, WV by Friday morning.
Our first day's ride was fine. We made it to Blacksburg and even had great hosts from Warmshowers. Thank you Stephen and Erica. I wish you the best with your wedding and the upcoming tour! Of course once we arrived in Blacksburg we had no idea where we were going. It isn't that we didn't have a planned route. Rather, when we would tell any local cyclist our planned route they would first look terrified, then, hoping we hadn't noticed, say something along the lines of "well those are pretty rough rodes out there." Fortunately, Blacksburg, like Roanoke, is a hub for serious cyclists and by parking ourselves in a local cafe for a few hours we managed to get a good grasp of our route for that day. Unfortunately by then it was too late to go anywhere.
Not for the first time, we were saved by the generosity of a stranger. Kenny, who is finishing up his PhD at Virginia Tech and who is a passionate bike tourist offered us a place to crash at his place in town only to come back and offer to drive us out to Eggleston, 20 miles into our intended ride to stay with his good friend. Paul set Geoff straight on the route to get to Charleston that night. Turns out Paul was an awesome guy and took us out for great food and beer. He set us up with some great digs (I chose the outdoors) and told us to help ourselves to bacon and eggs in the morning. The last part makes him a hero who will live on in my heart forever.
A good sleep out in the hammock and we were off to West Virginia. Somehow I'd forgotten there'd be some hills there. I hope this photograph gives a vague frame of reference as to how steep some of the climbs were. Too often when I'd glance back after a long climb, it appeared as though the road disappeared behind me. If you look close in this photo you can barely make out Geoff climbing up that hill, like the sun coming up over the horizon. We don't want sympathy, just some well earned respect for riding 150 miles through West Virginia in two days.
Of course it wasn't all suffering, sweat and tears. West Virginia is beautiful country and the mountains offered us spectacular views. This pasture was at the end of one of our most difficult climbs, on a mountaintop. Happy, oblivious cows.
Missy just read this blog and is very upset with me. Almost the point of not speaking with me! She thinks if I'd bought bacon for ya'll you'd have stayed longer. heh heh heh
ReplyDeleteGreat chatting last evening. Please don't forget that mountain top yelling of 'Hi' for me!
Namaste