Newport News to Staunton

Alright, well, it's been a wile since I've posted, so, I figure it's time for an update. Sunday I started off again from Newport news. I met up with the bicentennial trail in Williamsburg. The trail was a nice reprieve from the 4 lane busy roads I had taken for the last 80 miles or so and the trail at this point "seemed pretty straight forward. The route had lots of damage from the storm all over, it looked almost post apocalyptic. Felled trees everywhere. I had to climb over a few with the bike. Large power lines where they were still standing, but a tree had fallen and brought the actual lines to the ground. It was beautiful in it's own respect. That evening, I about made it to Mechanicsville. I guess I was wobbling pretty bad by the end of it, because as I passed a trailer near Roxbury, a small group called me over for a rest and some food.

Actually, it kind of went like this.

Party: "Hey" Me : "hello" Guy at the party "Man you look rough, you need a break?"
Me: (looks back, thinks)
Guy: (sending the hesitation) "Get over her and soot down for a bit, we've got food, yo hungry?"

I hesitate and actually think about it. Which only encourages them more. The guy continues to be persuasive. At this point a woman gets out of her chair and starts to wave me off.

Woman: Donchya worry bout him, keep on going.
Guy: (with authority) "GET OVER HERE AND HAVE A HAM SANDWICH!" (repetitively)
Me: (leery) "it looks like your lady doesn't want me over there"
The whole group, save for the woman: Don' mind her none.
Guy: "Come on over here and get a ham sandwich"

At this point, I'm thinking, not 10 minutes ago, I was worried about what I was going to eat for dinner here in the middle of nowhere, so maybe this was a sign. They seemed like nice enough. Just a group of people having a little party, they invited me over, so I figured why not. So I got off the bike and walked over.

Turns out they were great people, just having an aftermath of the hurricane party, cuttin' up and finishing off the rest of their ham and booze. They immediately offered me up their water jug and a ham sandwich. There was Nicki (the host) , Tug (the authoritative one), Anna (the one that shooed me away), Bubbles, and another older guy. Tug was hilarious, in an extremely dirty kind of way, almost everything that came put of his mouth was about picking up women or "eating that p*ssy" as he called it. He was after all the girls,  and of course, talking about his wife too, never giving it up. His tenacity was hilarious, even if it was crude, the women didn't seem to mind either.

After a while he was just like "you just need to go set up your tent in those trees over there and forget about riding anymore tonight. " and tried to play matchmaker with me and Nicki. Nicki was a little more soft spoken than her counterpart, they had been good friends for a long time. We did talk a bit. She was going to school to be a welder, and she already had her own business hauling junk, though she had employees now to do a good bit of the work. Hers was an inspirational story. Someone out in the country could make it starting out their own business. We talked until the sun came down, then it was time for everyone to leave. I was going to pedal another mile or so down the road, but Bubbles offered a ride to Roxbury, and everyone else encouraged it. So I took him up on it and got another 5 miles down the road.

Bubbles dropped me off at a park in the median of the highway. I thanked him for the ride, but I thought that this could possibly be a dangerous and loud place to try to catch some sleep. So I rode down the road another few miles down to the gas station that Bubbles said would be open. Well, it was open, but it was also crowded, as it was the only place with power for miles. There were cars lined up for nearly a mile, purchasing gas to fill their cars and generators. I got in and purchased a drink and tried to charge my phone. No luck, there were no outlets that carried a charge in this emergency setup. So I sipped on my soda for a few hours and then took off to find a camping site. I noticed a little dirt road off the main road that led to a patch of woods. Unfortunately the words were covered in thorns and I couldn't seem to find an edge in. So I parked the bike and walked around looking for some loose trees. The lighted gas station was still off in the distance and I was somewhat worried that someone would notice my light and call the cops, so I kept the light as low as I could. The dim light made it tough to walk around and I somehow stumbled into a impromptu bog left by the hurricane. So it seemed like the whole area was a no go.

I took a side road off the dirt road, by this time, I've been walking around for about an hour an I was starting to get tired and impatient. I walked nearly smack into a small unlit house. It looked like it could be occupied, I've been trying to stay away from house visibility the entire time so as to avoid and confrontation. So that was wasn't going to work either. And on the other side was a house behind the gas station, with power, likely form the same generator, so I didn t have much to go with. Fortunately their was an expansive field between me and the gas station, so I traipsed through it, which had a few sparse trees, but in open visibility to the dirt road. At this point I realized that I wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight and I'd need to wake early. So I tied the hammock to two large limbs of the pine tree and climbed in. SNAP! The limb that I thought was the stronger of the two sheared right off at the trunk of the tree, and I fell to the ground. There were no other limbs easily accessible that would provide sufficient support for the hammock. So I tried to balance on the one limb, no luck, it sagged to the ground, but surprisingly held. So I swung a loop around a high limb on the tree, unfortunately, this made the hammock rub against the tree trunk. So I needed a counter balance to pull me off of it. I found some old posts and a few old window frames in the field, perhaps from an old house long since collapsed, and used it as a counterbalance, but it wasn't heavy enough. So I went and got my bike from where I left it, hoping to not pop in the burrs. I got it over without a scratch and leaned it against the rest of the improvised counterweight. It was just enough, and I mean JUST enough. I hung mostly off of the tree, as the counterbalance swayed to and fro, and I remained abo to 2 inches from the ground. It wasn't comfortable by a long shot, but it was enough to get some much needed sleep.

I woke early, 6:30ish, after tossing and turning all night. But oddly, I felt well rested. The warm sun kissed my face a chilly night and though I thought I sho sleep more, I decided against it for safe reasons. I packed up and was on the ro by 7. The place looked like a ghost town even the McDonalds was shut down, but cars were still lined up at the gas station as if the business kept operating all night. I set on the road and caught up with the bicentennial trail just about where the road I was on connected with the Interstate. This would be the first full day that I would be on the '76 and I was excited to see what was in store. Oddly enough, the road immediately started to turn east, back towards where I had come from, at first I was concerned that I may have gone the wrong way, but then I remembered that the road kinda makes a hairpin around Richmond, I was fully reassured about 20 minutes later when I started seeing "adopt a highway signs" with the local Mechanicsville cycling club as the sponsor. The road was beautiful, winding me around an old civil war route, chocked full with plenty of history. With that I went through Mechanicsville with what seemed like half the day. Passing by an historic Cold Harbor and Gaines Mill and veered to the north perimeter of the city. The looped back hairpin turn and outside loop did finally take me into the town at around 10:30, I was getting hungry so I stopped by a local CVS, which had just got their power back. I told them about my travels and their jaws dropped, as has been the case with most people who aren't endurance cyclists...they also called me crazy...as has also been the case with most people who aren't endurance cyclists. I stopped by and got some juice and trail mix, which I downed along with an energy bar. This would be the first day that I would seriously chow down on some energy bars. I got to wondering if I'd hit the point where my body started needing calories and couldn't just merely consume most of them from all of those fat reserves I had accumulated during my 5 year desk job. I also calculated that I was burning 4000 to 9000 calories per day.

So after a good 2 more hours on the '76, I hit up Ashland, Virginia. And I'll have to say, it was one of my favorite little towns on the trip. A two directional railroad bisected the town, with a small one way road that ran parallel to the railway all the way up until you got to main street. Running parallel to the roads we the small town shops. A portion of the road was brick and in the center of town, between the rails was a small rail station and platform. They kept that old timey feel. Further down was Randolph Macon University, a small school that lined the other end of downtown Ashland. I passed by and followed the road out to a....major highway? With no signs? There were always signs, especially at large intersections. Something wasn't right, so I headed back to downtown, almost all the was back to where the town began, there weren't any more signs showing a different direction. So rode back to the middle of town and asked a woman there. Turned out that she was also an avid cyclist and she and her husband had done a few tours in Europe. She also knew plenty about the routes in the area, which was a huge plus. Apparently, the college had just expanded and redid the intersection by the ball field, well they neglected to put up a turning sign for the bicycle route, and coincidentally, after a train passed, we were right across from the turn I needed to take. As a final warning, she said that the road would be a bit more "hilly" than was expected...too hilly for her, I was surprised since she had been to Europe, she said I'd probably be okay with it since I'd been riding a while.

So I went down he road, and it was hilly, but nothing really that bad, I was beginning to wonder if she was just overplaying the hillyness. But then came the steep downhill down to the river...and then shoop, a big scoop downhill to the bridge, and on the other side...an equally big scoop right back up. I'd been up and down the hills and mountains and I have to say, this was one of the steepest declines and inclines on the trip. Then I rode until about 3pm and passed by Thomas Payne's home, it was about midday rest time so I figured I'd go see it. The place had a phone tour which I thought was pretty cool, though I didn't take it. The area also had signs with descriptions of the area. The home was about the size of an average house, odd as this would have been considered a manor back in the 1800's. There was a woman tending the site. She said the house itself was closed, but that I could take the tour and stay a while. She also said that, with notice, cyclists are allowed to camp there for the night. After a bit of reading, I stopped by the picnic shelter and took a rest and let my phone charge. I got up about an hour and a half later and got back on the road. The '76 was hilly and windy, very windy. I was getting nowhere, and I had hoped to get to Charlottesville, or even Staunton by the end of day. But it was just too windy.

The road took me up to Lake Anna, where I discovered that there was a nuclear power plant. Moreover, the power plant also apparently was slightly damaged during the hurricane that struck by Mineral Virginia...not but 15 miles down the road. Glad there wasn't any damage, especially since I wouldn't have known about it. The '76 also took me to Mineral, Virginia -the epicenter of the earthquake. Their were multiple buildings where the front brick facades were cracked. Some of the weaker buildings were being held up by wooden braces as the buildings were being repaired. Mineral is also a very hilly town, with a few nice long, steep roads. It was a bit of a push, but enjoyable all the same.

At this point, it was nearly nightfall. So I called my Dad and coordinated a ride that we had talked about. We met up in Cuckoo, Virginia of all places. I was glad to be off the road after being on it for nearly 14 hours (with 12 hours of riding). I was looking forward to a nice restful sleep in an actual bed in an actual house.

It's a bright and sunny Sunday

Well the storm has passed and they kicked us out, one day earlier than expected. Newport news seems to have survived, though some branches are down and we did lose power. The woman's husband did get in, but right as the worst was found over us, he came all the way from Illinois , took him 16 hours. I also met a hard luck homeless guy named Doug who gas a sad story to tell and a nice cafeteria lady named Carolyn, I'll write about them later, but now, off to Williamsburg.

Weathering the storm

So I'm sitting here in the gym of Warwick high school, one of the designated red cross shelters here in Newport News. The gym has slowly grown in occupancy from just about 5 of us originally to now nearly all cots are now occupied. Originally, there were about 80 cots, I counted 7 rows with 11 cots each, give or take, but now they're bringing in more as more people seek refuge from the storm. Two cots were broken in the middle of the night, both by heavier set people who struggled to get out of them, one of these was the guy next to me, I asked if he needed assistance but he wouldn't take it. Poor guy had a respiratory infection too so he ended up sitting up all night because he was physically unable to lay down.
The wind started last night and has gradually kicked up with the rain to the point where it gusts every minute or so and the locked double doors to the outside jostle and slam back together. I hear that the storm is about 120 miles south of Virginia beach now and has been downgraded to a category one, so not terribly bad, but I am glad to be out of the rain, or worse, camping under a tree. The only thing that's worrying me so far are the windows lining the tops of the walls of the gym, but I'm assuming they wouldn't house us here if they weren't sturdy.
Most everyone is very nice. The volunteers are incredibly friendly and enjoyable to talk with, we're just riding out the storm. I've met a few people, one woman with her 4 kids that she has with her, she has 8 altogether. Her husband is a truck driver and was supposedly driving into the area last night to be here with her, but I haven't seen her since last night. The other person I've met is a 20 something college student named Page, the volunteers all were excited when I came in because they were worried she wouldn't have anyone to talk to. They promptly brought me over to her for introductions. She's a sweet girl who ended up stranded. Her car broke down and her college closed the dorms on her. Worse, her school didn't even tell her where to go and didn't know of any shelters, she didn't seem to be too pleased with her school, but she's been in high spirits. We joked around a bit about our school lunch dinners last night. Pizza and corn...old school pizza too, the kind that we used to put ketchup on. Bonus, they had a big tub of Texas Pete... I thoroughly drenched mine. We joked that we hope that they also don't continue to serve us milk once the power inevitably goes out...which it has flickered off a few times.
Well it's noon, so off to lunch, then maybe get a bit more laundry done in the bathroom sink.

My first 100+ mile day

Well I'm beat, in fact, I'm more than beat. I'm falling asleep as I write this. I almost feel asleep in the spaghetti Theresa had just made for me. I logged over 100 miles today, my first, hopefully not my last, but hopefully my last for a while. It all started at 830am on the southern tip of the currituck peninsula. I ended at the northern section of Newport news. There were a few stops along the way, one for chili dogs on Knott's island, another to tighten all of the spokes on my new rear wheel. Oh yea, after two hours of frustration, I learned how to tighten and align all spokes on a wheel, protip, make sure all of the spokes are somewhat tightened before you align the wheel, or else your wheel will flop around like a wet noodle.

Today also happened to be the day of my first big fall. I'm a little bruised up and bloody from night riding...just missed the abrupt truncated shoulder coming off the bridge. Both the bike and I went flying into the road, fortunately no cars...but I don't think I'll be doing any more night rides anytime soon, dangerous add it is, it's not worth thinking about in urban areas. But it was worth it this time to see Teresa before she evacuates tomorrow. I finished up sometime right before midnight. The 8 miles on the James river bridge bring the most harrowing experience to date and the last 10 miles in Newport news being the most life draining.
Well my eyes can no longer stay open, so I'm heading to bed. night!

Topsail to Hatteras Part 3 - Hatteras Island

I got to Hatteras midday. H-A-T-T-E-R-A-S!

I'd never been here before and it was a place I've always wanted to visit. A place that I can now check off of my bucket list. It was serene, once again, not nearly as commercialized as I had expected. Hatteras the town is a small village with a few seafood restaurants, an ice cream shop, a small town IGA, and wow, even a coffee shop! Yes, really, it is that unscathed from the tourist bomb that happens upon it every summer, and for that I was incredibly thankful.

First on my checklist was to find the location that would be accepting my phone, Hatteras Realty, so I stopped in and chatted with the clerk. She was similar to me, visited here as a tourist once, fell in love with the area and eventually moved here. She said the storms could make life a hassle from time to time, but otherwise the place was an amazing place to live. We also talked about housing and property prices. Surprisingly, it's incredibly cheap for what you might expect, in the 100k to 200k range, cheaper than Boone! I thanked her profusely for accepting my phone while I was traveling, and said I'd see her again tomorrow.

Second on my checklist was to find camp. The island is so tiny that it really isn't an option to just camp somewhere in the woods. I mean, there aren't any woods. After conversing with a few people at the visitor's center. I was informed that there was a really lovely camp site maintained by the National Park Service, it was a few miles down the road, away from the town where my phone was coming in, I'd have to backtrack, but it seemed like the best option for the night. The wind howled in my face the moment I left the shelter of the town. I was making little headway down this stretch of road, definitely less than 10mph. It took me a while to finally reach my turn in Frisco, the next town over. I passed the airport, winds still gusting into my face. I noticed the wind sock by the runway, tattered and torn, from the looks of it the gust winds was a usual occurrence.

The camp was right there in front of me. A ranger post guarded the entrance way. I pedaled closer and noticed the ranger inside, so I stopped. While the ranger was getting out, I noticed a sign on the building. "Camping $25 a night." Shucks! I hadn't thought about this before. National forests are free camping sites. National parks are apparently not. On the other hand, free national forest camping usually isn't on a well maintained plot of land with a bathhouse. My mind raced as I thought about what I was going to do. I was on a limited budget and trying my hardest this trip to not have to pay for lodging. I was going to have to turn back and look for somewhere to sleep that night. With the wind howling as it had, I figured that I was yet again going to have a night of no sleep.

We exchanged pleasantries and I told her about my journey. After a few minutes, I asked her about the sign, indeed just as the sign had said. Camping $25, I told her that I was going to have to turn back and look elsewhere. I probably looked pretty defeated at that point and she took pity on me, asking where I was going to go. I told her that I would be looking for a plot with some trees by the marsh. She informed me of another campground about 10 miles down the road, adjacent to the lighthouse that was also part of the park service and did not have a rangers post. You still had to pay, but it was an "honor system" you put your money in a slot. She said that there were no trees and it was windy. I thanked her, prepared to make the ride and started to turn around, but she stopped me. She said that she was envious of my trip and since I didn't have a vehicle that would do any damage to the area, she was going to let me stay for free. She signed me up for a plot, told me not to tell anyone there about her generosity, and let me in.

The place was majestic, a mile long loop along rolling sand hills with more than 30 camping plots scattered up and down the property. A bathhouse with showers, and decent tasting water. A long boardwalk that climbed the dunes and let out on the beach. Even better, the dunes blocked out almost all of the wind on this side of the island. I was going to get a warm nights sleep!

I rode around and found my plot nearly at the top of a sand hill and got to work setting up camp. I didn't have much to tie my hammock to. A large bushy shrub with maybe limps slightly larger than an inch around. The shrub was about 4 feet tall, much wider than it was tall, with prickly leaves, and rubbery limbs. I tied the hammock line towards the inside of the shrub, getting pricked up from head to toe as I found the trunk of the shrub. The shrub had a lot of give, and I was worried that it wasn't going to support my weight, but it was all I had. On the other side, there was nothing to tie to, so I grabbed the picnic table that was provided with each camp site, and I shimmied it over by the shrub. I tied the hammock as tight as I could and gave it a test. *SLUMP*  the hammock drooped down to the sandy, cockle burr covered ground as the picnic table gave its ground and slid towards the shrub. The burrs pierced through the hammock and into my skin. So I got out, pushed the bench back out, drawing the hammock as tight as I could -the rubbery shrub pulled taught as if I had set a snare trap. I proceeded to through everything I could in front of the picnic table to stop it from moving again. I moved mounds of sand in front of the legs - burrs digging into my hands as I unearthed them. I winced, but it wasn't as bad as when you unexpectedly step barefooted on one of those suckers. I put the bicycle and pack in front too. The hammock seemed to hold. The entire ordeal taking much longer than I had expected, the sun was starting to set. So I set off to the beach to try and enjoy it while it lasted.

I've always wanted to live somewhere where you could see both a sunrise and a sunset occur over the water. There aren't really that many places on the earth where this happens, but the outer banks happens to be one of them. The sun rises at the corner of Hatteras, right where the lighthouse stands, and sets over the sound. If you had a whole day to rest on a sand dune on the outer banks, you could see this magical phenomenon happen before your eyes. With no earth but the earth your standing on, the sky is clear, pristine, almost untouched by humanity. The sun set, turning the ocean from blue to gold, the sky, pinks and purples, oranges, and reds setting over the sound. The waves still crashing fiercely upon the shores. No one but you, like a sole shipwrecked survivor on a deserted island, walking on the beach. It was quiet, peaceful. Ethereal, almost like a dream, too good to be true, but there it happened, right here on earth. Right here on the outer banks. I want to live here.

I walked down the beach as it grew dark. Eventually I did see people. A fire on the beach in the distance. Yes, fires on the beach are completely legal here. Their reels towering almost 20 feet into the air, phosphorescently lit to show the bobbing of the tides, or more if they had caught a fish. A group of 10 partying and enjoying their vacation in the middle of nowhere. It was dark now, the only light provided by the clear sky above, displaying the wispy milky way in all of it's glory. And a little light that blinked every few seconds off in the distance...Cape Hatteras lighthouse. I was here.

As I walked down the beach, I was abruptly stopped by a stringed up fence. I could barely make out the sign. "Sea turtle hatching area." Just over this line was a stretch of beach soon to be occupied by little baby sea turtles. I couldn't see any and I didn't want to disturb their hatchery, so I turned back to turn in for the night.

I sat on the picnic table for a moment. Not only did my ranger give me a free spot for the night, but she game me one of the best spots. The lighthouse shone in the distance,. The beacon letting me know it was there every 7.5 seconds. I could see the rays from it as it spun around in the night. I looked up at the milky way one last time as it started at one horizon and stretched all the way to the other. It was the first time I ever remember seeing it so vividly without a cloud interrupting it's path. Then I said goodnight to everything and went into my hammock.

The hammock was pleasant at first...as taught as could be. Though, I was worried that this support was only fleeting, and I was right. I nodded off for maybe 20 minutes before I felt my back touch the ground. It was a little unpleasant, but it would just have to do. I had combed the area with my hands earlier for any burrs, so it was just lumpy sand at this point. Within 3 hours I woke up in searing pain. My back was wrenched from being full on the ground now, with my head and legs still up in the air. It was time to get up and man the picnic table. This went one for another hour or so before I finally gave up. The lighthouse in the distance kept my spirits up slightly, but the night was difficult and unrestful. After a few battles with the picnic table in the middle of the night, I decided to flip the massive thing over, thinking the surface area would add more friction. I was wrong, it operated more like a sled on snow. So I undid the hammock from the tree, in the middle of the night, getting stabbed once again. Untying the thing without light was nearly impossible. I tied the hammock to the grill that came with the campsite, and also to the hammock. I climbed in and instantly I heard an extremely loud metal CLANG that I'm sure woke up at least someone up in the middle of the night. The grill piece had fallen into the grill basin. SO yea, that wasn't going to work either.

I eventually flipped the 8ft table over once again and tied the hammock to the legs of the table, but the legs were only 6 ft apart at most. I'm about 6 ft, and the hammock still had to have some sag to it. I tied it as taught as I could, wrapping not only the string, but actual parts of the hammock around the legs and got it. The hammock was tiny, with maybe 4 ft of actual sleeping space, and the bottom just barely scraped the "floor" of the picnic table. It wasn't enjoyable, but tolerable. It was chilly by no and my space bag was tattered to pieces, but I did manage to get a few hours of sleep-like stasis before the sun came up.

With as much discombobulation that I did to my camp, I figured that it would be a good idea to get out of the hammock at the crack of dawn. As soon as the sun started to warm my makeshift cocoon, I was out and working. I flipped the hammock, fixed the grill, untied the hammock, and apologized to the poor tree (the tree looked okay). I even rescattered the sand mounds I had made. The site looked just as it did before I came, as it should, and just as I had finished, a few park rangers passed by in a golf cart. Glad I got up when I did.

I was able to briefly enjoy the sunrise hovering over the water. People who know me, know that I don't usually see sunrises, unless it's because I'm still awake from the night before. I think that's why I treasure them much more than I do sunsets. And I set off to ride away from it and back to Hatteras town. I had a full day here with really nothing to do except pick up my cell phone, so I enjoyed it. I rode back to town, this time with the wind at my back, pushing me down the road at 14 mph. I was thankful, because I probably couldn't have made it the other way with so little sleep and still-achy muscles. I hopped over to the coffee shop and enjoyed a few conversations with the locals. I got my signature drink, a Latte Breve, and ate a delicious muffin. I thought about maybe swimming, but was worried about my next shower opportunity, I was already 2 days into no shower by now, in the dog days of summer. Instead, I went to the library and was able to do some writing and mapping of my experiences. I also finally got some of those cherries I had been craving from the local IGA, and then I waited by where I was to pick up my cell phone. There was an ice cream shop nearby, so I stopped in. The manager there was tending the front , so we talked a bit. HE lived on a sailboat, I asked him about that, and he said he could travel from here to Florida in less than 5 days. He could take everything he owned and just get up and go when he wanted. A boat you could live on would be around $7000, and of course upkeep, but not overbearing. I'm really considering it.

I stopped by the beer store adjacent to the ice cream shop. How convenient, a one stop shop, kids get their ice cream and the adults could get their beer. The place had an amazing selection for being such a small store, Rogue, Terrapin, Sammy Smith, stuff I hadn't even heard of before too. I was just browsing since I didn't want to drink on the road, but definitely a place to come back to. Then all of a sudden, I got really, really disoriented. And then the bottles started to shake. It didn't dawn on me right then, but next thing I know, someone walks in and says that Washington DC just got hit with an earthquake! Yes, we even felt it down on the outer banks, not much more than a 3 or less I figure, but we did feel it. The news said that the epicenter was Mineral, Virginia and that there was extensive damage there. Rare, I hope it's not going to a regular occurrence.

Shortly thereafter, the UPS guy came with my phone. I got it set up, went back to the library and transferred my GPS data onto the new phone. It was difficult getting the original to work, but I was able to bypass the unlock screen with a magnet, and then use the keypad. I'm not a frequent user of the keypad, but I'm really glad it's there when you do need it. And I was on my way. I traveled to Buxton, then to the lighthouse. Now this was a tall lighthouse! The grand gem of North Carolina. It was after 6pm by the time I got there, so I was unable to walk inside, but I'll definitely be back. I was elated to see it, I finally made it there. I think that I can now be called an official resident of North Carolina. Sadly, it was a short stint at the lighthouse, I had to find camp for the night. I traveled to Avon, now with the wind flaking me from my right side, it was no longer a deterring force. 10 miles later, I was in Avon. I had a famous "Hatteras Flat" at a local restaurant, which was kind of like burnt fried cheese and a tortilla, with salsa and gucamole, filling, interesting, but not really all that great...and then set up camp in a marshy area shrouded by trees behind the Food Lion. It turned out to be the best night of sleep I had had in 3 days. I was so tired that I slept until noon.


With hurricane Irene fast approaching on my heels, I knew that I needed to flee the island quickly. I probably wouldn't survive the storm without proper shelter, that or at the least it would be the end of my trip. I also wanted to see Theresa in Newport News before she had to evacuate. So I traveled at a grueling pace to get off the islands. People were definitely evacuating the area, and taking the only road available, the same one that I was on. Otherwise, the area was calm and uninhabited. The pea island refuge looked just as Cedar Island had, but this time, with water as far as you could see on both sides of this narrow stretch of land.

I crossed over yet another steep bridge spanning the islands and providing some epic views. I also noticed the lighthouse on the other side. Bodie Island lighthouse, I had to make a quick visit. It was smaller, but think I like the look of the look of it more. The manor in front of it tied the whole thing together. But within 15 minutes, I was well on my way again.

My back tire was once again starting to become weak and wobbly. It didn't have much life left to it, so I had to find a repair shop. It wasn't until Kitty Hawk before I found a place. Kitty Hawk to me isn't really much of a place to talk about. It's busy, touristy, and like Myrtle Beach. I was only interested to go here because of the historical significance of the Wright Brothers. If I get more time some day, I'd like to explore it...see where their old bicycle shop used to be, but by this time, I was out of time...The hurricane was traveling faster than me and traveling day and night, and I didn't have any time left. The first bicycle ship I went to was a rental place and did not have the ability to repair wheels, but they did refer me to the "Bike Barn" downon a side street. I thanked the clerk and kept on, by now, barely able to ride on that back wheel, more than 5 spokes had popped and I didn't find something soon, I'd be walking. After some quick directions from a local, I found it, and sure enough, the place looks like a barn. The top floor being the guys home, and the shop below. I got there right at 6pm, the place was definitely a ma and pop hole in the wall type place and I was worried that he'd be closed, but the door was unlocked. He was watching TV, he was on the phone with someone making dinner plans. He seemed grumpy at first to see me, but I told him about my situation. He was a gruff dude, reminded me of this character on an old video game I used to play called "Ski or Die." Sure enough though, he helped me out. He put a new, much sturdier wheel on my bike, but it wouldn't fit, it needed some sort of spacer and he was having a hell of a time making it work. After 20 minutes or so he found some springs and sprockets and spacers and somehow rigged the thing to fit my bike. He literally threw my old wheel into this junk pile behind the counter, he had a technical term for it, I think he said it was "Tacoed."

He wouldn't accept a credit card, though he clearly had a card machine at the counter. I didn't care, I had a functioning bike to get me where I needed to go. So I walked to the nearby ATM, at the beachwear store....uuughhh and paid out the nose to get a Benjamin. I paid the guy, and through all of his abrasiveness, the guy actually offered me dinner, it was his mom that was coming, she was in town, and they were cooking a meal together. And as for the grumpiness, turns out the guy had a cold on top of everything else. Nice guy, hard to read, but a nice guy nonetheless, his mom was a gem. I ate like a king that night, he said he knew what it was like to ride long distances and how important it was to get those carbs. Man that spaghetti was good.

If you want to read more, you can read my review of his shop Here.


Afterwards, it was getting late so he offered me this little shed like area with a shower and a bench, almost like a hostel, to stay in for the night, but I was determined to get off the outer banks tonight, so I graciously declined.

After all that delicious fuel, I was ready to speed down the road again. I didn't like the main highway, so I took the drive alongside the ocean. I floored it, maybe too fast, as I had to weave around garbage pails and the occasional car. Night was fast approaching, but I kept going. The road ended and I took the left onto the bridge over the sound. The sun was past the horizon now and it was getting dark. The bridge had a decent shoulder, but cars were traveling fast, and I wanted to be off that bridge ASAP. It was much longer than I had expected. There was a gas station no too far after the bridge, and I decided that's where I would stay for the night. I recharged my batteries, consumed well over a gallon of soda, and did some reading while evacuees filled up on gas. I eventually got to talk to the clerk and he said that it would be completely ok for me to sleep behind the gas station. The area was all grass with no trees, but a dirt road kept going down past. At around midnight, I traveled down, on the other side of a suburb - a farm on the other side, and a lighted park in the distance and I found a hammock spot in the middle of three pine trees. I was asleep before I knew it.

Early, around 7am I was awoken to the sound of an old woman. She said something along the lines of "I don't know what that is Sparky" and peered around one of the pine trees. I slowly rose, my face hidden by the white netting of the hammock. I looked around, and crap! I had nested right in the middle of someones yard! How had I not seen that white house right next to me last night! She squinted trying to look through the netting as I rose, I must have looked like some kind of alien rising out of it's cocoon. I said "It's a hammock" as she jumped a foot into the air, thoroughly startled. Her dog, now barking, terrified as well.  "And I'm sorry, I didn't realize that I had camped out so close to someone's house." She exclaimed "Oh no your good hon, I'm just walking my dog" and promptly scampered off.

Well, by now she was probably calling the cops I thought, no use even thinking about trying to catch another wink. I promptly packed up and was on my way to Newport News.

Another quick update - hurricane Irene

Today I finally left hatteras, in fact, I've left the outer banks altogether. I'm just ahead of the hurricane and should make it into Virginia Beach tomorrow during the day, where I will promptly find a shelter from the storm. Hatteras was amazing! I'm almost finished with my Hatteras post but there is so much to talk about!
I've also mapped out my trip so far, so you can see where I've been by going to google maps through this link:
http://g.co/maps/pf9b
Well, that's all for now, goodnight everybody!

Topsail to Hatteras part 2 - Okracoke

After a horrific night of no sleep and mosquitoes, I was ready for the ferry. Bonus! the visitor center had coffee, so I promptly finished their pot. Then walked out to the sound to dip my feet in the water. It's crazy, I had forgotten since I was told in 8th grade, but the sound is shallow, like really shallow, for miles. I walked out nearly a quarter mile from the ferry landing and was still only up to my knees! The water is eerily still for what you think should be ocean water too.

I came back in to the landing as I saw the ferry coming over the horizon. This area is truly beautiful. So calm and peaceful. Relaxing, completely masquerading the vampiric mosquito haven it becomes once the sun sets.

The ferry ride to ocracoke was a fast 2 and a half hours. I met a lot of people on that ferry ride. A motorcycling police officer from Colorado on his second cross country trip. He mentioned that the outer banks was one of his favorite places in all of the country.

A business executive on vacation. An inventive fellow that had a folding bicycle that fir all into a small bag. 3parts locked in to form the frame, put on the wheels, and bam! Functional bicycle. He was particularly interested in my trip and the ability for humans to overcome any challenge. I shared some of my experiences thus far, the first full day, getting lost in Saluda, not being able to shower through 5 days of riding, trekking through NC, and the people I had met along the way.

Some cyclists came with us onto the ferry as well, they were there making a day trip of it, getting on the outer banks for the day, visiting Okracoke, and then heading to Manteo the next day. One of them had been riding in every state in the US, save for Alaska, which he was getting to soon.

I also briefly chatted with the waitress from the previous day, who was also going to Okracoke for the day.
She was cute.

I also had some time on the ferry to walk around, nothing but ocean all around us for all the eye could see, it was at this time that I really started to think of what it would be like to own a sailboat and just cruise the seas for weeks on end.

I also got to thinking about my dog. I was starting to really miss seeing her all excited to see me, and throwing the ball for hours until I was tired, but of course not her. I wished I could have taken her with me, running alongside all the way like she did back in Boone. But, there was no way she could have endured this trip.

We finally got to Okracoke, it was a small town at the bottom of the island. It was surprisingly old timey feeling, unlike the touristy feel of Myrtle Beach that I had grown accustomed to. A small, quaint town in the middle of the ocean, like a small fishing town. It was beautiful, everyone seemed happy and excited to be here. My kind of town, small, by the beach. I could live here. And that feeling only became stronger as I went further down the island.

I toured the lighthouse, the first one I'd been able to see on my trip. It was smaller than I expected, just barely reaching over the rooftops. You could walk right up to it but couldn't go in. There's actually still a couple that lives in the old lighthouse. Pretty cool. A couple asked me to take some photos, we talked a bit. A nearly toothless guy with a gorgeous wife, I wondered what their story was. They were down here from Delaware, for the first time ever and they were in love with the place. Everyone was in love with it. They were on their way down the Carolina coast. I told them about the ferry ride and the long stretch of road that felt like desert back on Cedar island.

Then I was on my way. After the town, there's basically nothing on the island. The road and the powerlines that connect Okracoke to Hatteras. The dunes on the right, blocking off the surging sea, and the sound on the left. It's such a narrow island, had it not been for the dunes, you could see the water on both sides of the island for almost all of the 10 miles.

I came to the first public beach access and felt compelled to get in the water. So I leaned the bike by the sign. There were some serious looking signs about riptides, that I quickly pondered over and then headed towards the sea. It was like any other beach I had ever seen. The water SLAMMED against the shore, and quickly surged up the beach, then RIPPED back into the sea within a fraction of a second. It was ruthless and relentless, angry that this, this island dared to be in it's way. It was an onslaught, no wonder another name for it is a barrier island.

I walked right in, and was promptly attacked by the angry waves. But it felt so good, the sand giving way underneath my toes. The water rising up above my knees and sucking me in further. I could see why there were so many warnings of riptides. I and one other sunning couple were the only people on the beach. Untainted. Pristine.

Off I went, back down the road. The day was hot when you weren't being immersed in water. The wind was quiet, silenced by the towering dunes. The next stop was the Okracoke ponies. It first seemed like a non-event. No ponies in sight, just some stables in the not too distant distance. The story was interesting though.

A Spanish ship, left shipwrecked near Okracoke. The crew marooned on the island for a time, they leave via another boat and have to leave their horses. The horses settle and adapt to the island, becoming smaller, and thrive! Man comes back to the island, sees the ponies and eventually redomesticates them. Today, a handful of the ponies continue to be stabled as a feature of the island.

I saw a wooden path to the right, and having no obligations for the day, only to get to Hatteras, I explored it. It took me through a wooded area and up a ramp to a viewing post and there they were, in clear sight, all just standing there, grazing and resting, not but 50 feet in front of the viewpoint. They were pygmy horses! So I stood there, enjoyed them for a moment, noted the sound just passed, them. Dumbfounded how this small island was able to support them for hundreds of years. I rode back down the wooded path and mentioned the location of the horses to a family with two small children that were absolutely excited to see these small horses. I rode down the road, the distance just flew by quickly. The ten miles felt like four. And before I knew it, I was on the ferry again, chatting with some more day-tripping cyclists.

Topsail to Hatteras part 1 - To Cedar Island

While I have a few days, I figured that I'd finally get around to writing about my experience traveling to and on the outer banks. It's hard to believe that I was on Hatteras just 3 days ago. Even crazier, I left myrtle just a week ago, it seems so much longer than that.

Not having a phone to record the trip from topsail to Hatteras was disappointing. Worse still, I had to rely on main thoroughfares to get there, which meant a lot of shoulder riding as an onslaught of cars passed by. The shoulders in North Carolina for the most part were much broader than the ones in South Carolina, which was a reprieve from the stress of worrying about the cars behind you. The first day took me around Camp Lejune, through Jacksonville and eventually to Swansboro. I stopped in Jacksonville for a few hours, my you're had went flat, but coincidentally, almost right on front of a bike shop, so I walked and and talked to the guys for a while and got my bike fixed. It's amazing the people you talk to on the road, I thought I was doing something extraordinary with this trip, but one of the guys spent 9 months riding from Alaska to the southern most tip of South America, now that's an adventure! I also stopped into a Verizon store to request a new phone. I mailed it to a nice realty office in Hatteras village since they don't have a mailing store on the island, but the first location I called was nice enough to accept the package for me. In Swansboro,  I stopped at the first dairy queen I've eaten at since the one in Boone shut down over 10 years ago. It was delicious and just what I needed after a long day of riding.

That night I set up the hammock by the nature trail at the Swansboro municipal park.

I didn't sleep well in Swansboro. It was a bit cooler at night and I kept waking up. When the sun came up, I was able to catch some adequate sleep, so I stayed there in the park until 11. I think I startled the old couple and their dogs as I walked out of the woods onto the trail, but I think they scared me worse. I've been a little jumpy around dogs lately since I've been chased by so many along the road. That day I rode another 60 miles up until I reached cedar island around 6pm. The ride was beautiful as I started heading up the coast again. But, the best was the 10 miles on cedar island. Oh my god! It was the prettiest stretch of traveling I had done the entire trip. Nothing but a road and marsh as far as you could see. And do few cars, it was serene. I thought that this must be what the middle of the desert feels like, you know, but with water.

Sadly, I had this cherry craving all day, but no where on this stretch of the path had cherries, not even the chain grocery stores. I've been trying to feed any cravings I get as my body probably knows not about itself than I do. The other day I was really craving awesome grapes and cantaloupe. Prior to that was a craving for peaches. On Hatteras it was ice cream. I don't eat much on the road, just typically a few snacks and a large dinner. So any cravings I get, I think, are usually warranted.

When I finally got to Cedar Island Point, the town, I was ready to hunker down for the night and get on the ferry tomorrow. The town had a general store and a motel...but the motel had a restaurant and an adjacent campground. I thought about starting at the campground and had inquired about a lot, but it was $25 for my tiny little hammock, too rich for me. So I had planned once again to find a spot in the woods. I spotted out a place behind some billboards while I still daylight and then went to the restaurant. I had ribs and the salad bar, salad being another craving, wow were they both delicious, those people knew how to make some ribs!

I finished off the entire plate and went back for another salad. Amidst my dinner, I had a sinking feeling people were worried about my absence of communique, so I tried to use the motel phone, but I didn't have auditioned phone numbers and 411 was pointless. I guess most people's numbers were unlisted. I went back to the table and I one of the locals had heard my blight.  His name was Tom and it turns out that he was an avid cyclist as well. He asked where I was staying and instead offered me a place to sleep in the new house he was building by the beach. After a little hesitance I agreed. He informed me that the visitor center for the ferry had showers and bathrooms so I headed there first.

Around 10pm, I stopped by his house. He started a campfire with the scrap wood he had lying around and a talked for a few hours. Turns out that he had ridden up and down both coasts and also had gone cross county twice. His stories made me wasn't to plan a cross country trip even more! And he was only 39! This guy had some ambition. After the fire I set up camp on the stilts below his house. I have to tell you, this night was the worst so far, the wind was whipping around fast, with storms on the horizon. The wind and the cold kept me up all night, and with no woods to block it, it hit me full force and rocked the hammock with full force all night.

Once the wind died down, then came the mosquitoes. They don't call this mosquito island for nothing. Though they couldn't get to me, the incessant buzzing in my ears and the fear that they may be able to bite through the fabric kept me awake. I didn't get any sleep until the sun came up and then I had to crawl out for the ferry at 9. Cedar island is beautiful, but next time I'm staying in the motel.

A recap of the week in Myrtle

Wow! Myrtle turned out to be an unexpected event filled bonanza.

I ended up getting to north myrtle at around 11pm and immediately washed off the 4 day old sweat and other funk from my body. Showers are one of those conveniences you definitely miss when camping and biking cross country and I've think c other people miss you taking one as well. After the shower, I promptly slept the soundest sleep I'd had all week for a solid 12 hours.

Day one was an eventful day of calling and coordinating with friends and family, though I did get the opportunity to perform the sacred tribal ritual that everyone must so when they come to the beach, yes, walking right up to the ocean and dipping your toes into the water. I had come this far, all the way from Asheville. I felt like I had accomplished something.
Day 2 I got to spend with Jessica, a friend of mine from almost half my age ago. It was good to see her, it nearly felt like I'd never left, considering we haven't even seen each other in 10 years, we were like good old friends again. So we had coffee, talked, walked on the beach and meet up with my old girlfriend, Ashley, for Margaritas. All three of us together again. Of course, they have families and children now and have grown up, but we still were able to reminisce about our old terrible making days. We also planned a potluck for Wednesday.

Day 3 I had planned to chill, but it wasn't in the cards, as my cousin Jessica had other plans. She had invited me out to the boat foot a good day of pirating. There, we meet up with her mom, my cousin, Justine and he sister, Julie. So out to seagull island we went...for a fun filled day of tubing, boating, And hunting for treasure on the islands. We all left with some loot - a few washed up bracelets, hair bands, and rubber bands, arr! We also explored the marshes, you could hear the scuttling of the hundreds of fiddler crabs fleeing from our path and see the blue crabs that would actually defend theirs. The evening ended with grouper at their restaurant, crab catchers, and then a fun filled night of drinking.

Day 4 was another day of boating. This time on the intracoastal, all the way up to holden beach for some cucumber salad and drunken pineapple. Then a trip to a deserted development in the marshes to search for more "treasure." Justine, Julie, and Jessica were a trip and definitely made my week at Myrtle eventful and worthwhile.

Day 5 was the potluck smorgasbord - salsa, burgers, sausage dogs, chicken, potatoes. I got to meet friend Jessica's children and remet her mom, who was much nicer now that we aren't rowdy teenagers. We danced to Wii dance, ate delicious food and watched movies. I definitely would very much like to visit them again. The kids were great and Jessie has turned out to be a beacon of warmheartedness.

Day 6 I finally got up with Steven and had lunch at "The Shack" before he had to go to work. We caught up on old times and where people are now. It seems like a lot of the high school people have stayed around myrtle.

When I got back, grandma was ready for some golf, so we headed to little river and hit a few on the driving range, not only did she out drive me but I broke her club after a hiring about 10 balls. I should have known it wasn't going to be a good golfing day, but we proceeded to play mini golf after the driving range thinking that
I may win back some pride, but  she thoroughly thrashed me on the Putt putt course too, I think grandma should turn pro, she's still got what it takes.

After that round about, we headed home and I licked my wounds add I awaited cousin Jessica's arrival for a few drinks. In the midst of waiting, Lauren came home and we finally got a chance to talk a bit. Lauren seems to be adjusting well to her move to Myrtle. I hope she continues to thrive and grow here in ways that

Boone couldn't offer for a young 20 something.
The last day I saw uncle Ed and aunt Joan on the way out of town, Ed is as funny as ever. Joan recent had a heart attack but both are active in the community and doing well. We went to a Mongolian Grill - Japanese style food that you pick yourself and they grill it for you, which was nice because you could get more of what you wanted. And a good meal for 12 bucks.

That night, my cousin Jessica took me up to Topsail - where we partied with some Carnies and Ukrainians. At some point, I got to ride in a slingshot carny ride. Then Saturday morning, I left on the bike for Hatteras.
Overall, the experience was so worth it, I already miss it and want to go back!

I made it to Myrtle!

It was a long trip but I made it!

I ended up leaving Florence late on account of a flat tire and there broken spokes. Fortunately florence had a bike shop our I likely would have been stuck.  Anywho, I was able to leave around 2, and knowing that this was going to be the longest leg of the trip, at 80 miles, I had to book out if I had any chance of getting there without having to stay the night once more in the woods, sweaty, chafed, and without a shower. So I floored it for the first 2 hours at near 18 miles per hour. The weather was in my favor, cool with a hint of rain in the air.
Then the tired set in, what's worse, I was on 501. I lied when I said sand roads were the worst, no 15 miles on a road whet the cars are going 60+ mph without a shoulder is the worst especially the mile long bridge taking you from Marion county into Horry. That's scary enough for a car let alone a bicycle. I was glad to hit sand roads after that.

So after about 5 hours I had traveled a little over 60 miles with few stops but my legs were starting to give so I stopped by a small place off Joyner swamp road to get some sweet tea and let my legs  rest for a while. Once again, the people were very nice. You could tell out was a ma and pop place the ma did the raising while the pop talked everyone's ear off. She made some of the sweetest tea I've ever had, but it hit the spot and I ended up drinking a whole pitcher before leaving.

Then I was off again. The tea had supplied me enough energy to get to Loris, but I was once again tired as night fell so I broke down to see if I could get a ride, but to no avail. I had to do this on my own.
I trudged for another hour, the only time I sped up was when I was being chased by dogs. Then night fell, and I don't know of out was the moon guiding my way from the east or being so close to the beach, but o got a sudden burst of the most intense energy. And once again raced down the road for the next 10+ miles, through Wampee, down the bridge and to my destination just barely before 11pm.

80 miles in one day with a 70+ pound pack and now I'm at the beach! This couldn't be much more awesome!

Just a quick update

Last night I made it to Florence in the rain. I was pretty proud of myself as I did 60 miles in under 6 hours. The first 30 was still in the sans hills, so slow going, but the next 30 was nearly flat and the sun was covered by the clouds, so I sailed.  At some point I noticed that the red clay turned into sand and stayed sand for the rest of the duration. I also found my newest nemesis - the sand road. Damned Google and it's bicycle "shortcuts." They take 3 times longer to assail then regular roads and so far I've got three of them. Otherwise the trip was quite enjoyable. After the nice woman in Lockhart and meeting this ambiguously gay guy in Kershaw, I've decided that I'm going to take pictures of all the nice people I met along the way,  a picture below is of a group of girls I chatted with at Bojangles for a few hours yesterday.
Oh, and the other picture is of a manufactured tree forest. Trees planted in rows like crops, I thought it eerie as the rows formed multiple tunnels with light at the end of the forest.
Well, I must get going, hope to finish up tonight, I have 80 miles to go so I'll likely be riding for a while in the dark tonight.

Another day on the road

Well yesterday was yet another eventful day. I logged just over 60 miles from my starting point in Lockhart to Kershaw.

The day started early, 730 ish. I woke up to the blood soaked gore of a B horror flick. Apparently anywhere that my skin had touched the mosquito netting of my hammock was still bitten by mosquitos, but the funny part I suppose is that anytime the bites were painful enough to notice, I turned in my sleep, forcing the little buggers through the mesh and leaving bloody trails where their bodies once were. So I suppose they got what they deserved, and I learned a valuable lesson on how to set up the hammock properly from now on.

The second thing that I noticed was that my face was only about 6 inches from the ground when I woke up. The ropes attached to the pylons slowly slipped closer together through the night. I'm glad this was a gradual thing and not an all of a sudden thing. Unfortunately, I did toss and turn all night. The occasional semi would shake the bridge and the noise was something fierce, but I got enough energy to get me going.

So I got back up to the gas station where I finished last night and was greeted by a charming woman who had some kind of thing for me. She didn't look much older than her early 40' s but she said that she had a 19 year old granddaughter that she wanted to set me up with if I was staying in town. She and the other clerk resounded about this girl's beauty and if she looks anything like her grandmother then I believe it. So we all talked for another hour while my phone charged and then I headed off.
The first few miles are always some of the worst, just getting back into the groove. What's more, today was hilly, not steep but very hilly, this is the sand hills after all.

So I took off to Chester, and then to Great Falls, and my energy started to dwindle. I've learned that my energy goes down exponentially as the heat and time away from a long break goes up. I've been trying to take a 2 hour long break midday to avoid the heat, unfortunately, I couldn't find a spot until 330 pm yesterday and I was long overdue for a break by then...the last hour was slow with many short breaks. After a long two hour break I was off again, I cruised for a bit until I hit heath springs. I can't tell whether I like medium length trips of a few miles with some turns or the long jaunts with few turns. Medium trips break the monotony, but still require navigation. Long trips lack the short term, break it into small pieces type goals. I do know that the really short trips with many turns are my least favorite. I get lost often, and that's just what happened in Heath as it did in Spartanburg, sucking away valuable time and distance. Perhaps I'll keep the phone navigation on during those times from now on since these roads tend to be less marked.
Well the phone is charged so I best get going, hopefully more to write tonight!

Coming to you LIVE under a bridge next to the Broad River in beautiful Lockhart, South Carolina!

Another successful day on the road today! I did 60 miles in just under 8 hours with a few stops along the way. nothing too major on the highways today. I did get a little lost on the east side of Spartanburg. Google's directions had me going every which way on roads whose names either changed or do not have signposts. After an hour of frustration in the middle of the heat of the day and going only a mile, I took highway 9 on the way out. It worked, but the road was hillier and busier than the other way would have likely been. after Spartanburg, the way was relatively flat...a treat from what I have expected on this trip. I suppose I'm out of the mountains for now.
The most eventful thing today was likely setting up this hammock from where I'm texting you now. Leave it to me to try and set up the hammock for the first time in the middle of the night and on a steep incline nonetheless. after the laws of physics defied me twice, or rather, after I attempted to defy the laws of physics, I was finally able to get the straps to latch onto the pylons under this bridge. It still slipped a bit when I got climbed into it (literally climbed...I'm hanging 6 feet over the ground) the tension finally held the straps in place. It's a nice minor accomplishment for the trip. And quite comfortable! The rain sounds nice pitter-pattering against the bridge and the gentle breeze against my back is keeping me cool. The overpassing cars seem to be the only thing that could prevent me from having a restful slumber.
On that note, time to get some shuteye.

Asheville to Inman - The First Day Trip

Success! Yesterday, I made it to Inman! The trip was just a bit over 50 miles and very hilly, but fortunately, this time more downhill than up. I started out at around 11:30am and made it in just after 6pm. I would have made it sooner save for my debacle in Saluda, known of course for "the steepest mainline railroad grade in the contiguous US" which I got to experience full on yesterday. You see, I was using Google Maps on my phone to navigate the trip, but I couldn't use the built in navigator because it would put too much of a strain on the battery. So the next turn off from Hwy 176 was to be "Pearson Falls Rd" I will never forget that name. By the time I actually got into Saluda I was somewhat dehydrated and extremely overheated. I had decided to push my limits in 97 degree weather and try to ride into town before I stopped again for a drink of water. And so I did, but by the time I got into town, I was feeling it. So I drove through town to the last place that served cold drinks, so I could just start right off on the road after a brief rest. Well, that didn't work out, the place was closed, so I rode slightly back up into downtown and found another place. This place was also closed for the day, but they were still finishing up, so they let me grab some ice water on their way out. Well, after the break, I felt refreshed and ready to go...and wouldn't you know it, luck was on my side...the next 4 miles were a steep downhill grade. So with the wind in my face and Saluda to my back, I took off at a nice 35 mph pace down the hill. And about 2/3rds of the way down I saw it "Pearson Falls Rd" I was going too fast to stop instantly so I had to backtrack back up slightly, and so I got up the hill a bit and took it.

Well, instantly I noticed that the water was flowing in the other direction, but I thought that perhaps it meets 176 at a higher elevation later and that it was saving me a significant distance that 176 would have otherwise taken to wrap around the countryside. But Pearson Falls eventually turned into a dirt road and just kept getting steeper and steeper. By about the second mile, my water soaked shirt was now dry and I was once again heating up quickly. I was draining energy fast and was thinking that I may just call my friends and tell them that I wasn't going to make it to Inman and I was quitting for the day. I pressed on but kept a watchful eye on the stream flowing just down the bank. I finally couldn't go anymore, the incline was sapping me and I needed another break, so I put the bike to the side, walked down the bank and put my feet in the water and then my knees and finally I got into a pose I could only describe as what you'd expect from a monk praying in a monastery. Then I raised my arms and looked to the sky and shouted "WHY, WHY!!!" and laid in the water for a good 10 minutes. After a bit, I started to feel better, so I took of the now waterlogged shirt and swished it in the water to fully soak it....and embarked once again. I was determined to beat Pearson Falls, and after a mile and a half of continuous up hill, I met up again with 176...back in downtown Saluda. It seems in all of my heat exhaustion from earlier, I had completely missed the first turn off onto Pearson Falls Rd, and went in where I was supposed to come out. Well, at least I'd  Well, at least now the trains and I share something in Saluda. And the 4 miles back downhill was nice.

So I finally made it to Lake Bowen, and was greeted by 3 familiar faces. Alan, Mischa, and Sarah were all there relaxing in the lake, and soon later I was too.

So I'm about to embark again. Hopefully tonight I'll be in the Sumter National Forest.

A recap of the week in Asheville

This week has been a slow one, not enough really to have an entire post on just a day's event's so I figure that I would finish out this week with a recap.

After a fun filled, but also relaxing Monday at the lake, we spent about half the day Tuesday once again in the water. I worked on finally getting rid of my farmer's tan and evening out the skin tone. Roughly mid afternoon we decided to head back to Asheville, where we did an enjoyable evening bike ride through the park by Mischa's house and then headed to Biltmore square to enjoy YaYa's frozen yogurt, which charges you by the ounce. We all made amazing, more ice cream than we should have eaten sundaes.

The next day, we dropped off my bicycle at Biowheels in Asheville to get it repaired. The guy asked me to bring the derailleur in and so I did on Friday, by Saturday, the bike was fixed, and astoundingly, it only cost me $35. I was pleasantly surprised. However, they couldn't install the missing mounts for my rear rack so they referred me to Hearn's just down the road. One of the guys was very accommodating there and assembled a hodge podge of parts to get my bike in full working order, and in 20 minutes on the spot nonetheless...though it did cost me a bit more than I had intended to pay, it does seem to be working well.

Thursday we did trivia night at Arcade - a video game themed bar that Bish and Mike frequent. One of the topics was all MTV, which we did surprisingly well on. Another topic was generic brand names and the stores they're from (like Great Value = Walmart, HT Traders = Harris Teeter, etc.) and apparently Walgreen's has it's own generic beer, Big Flats. Lo' and behold we had to get some, and so we did on Saturday, amidst zombie dice, Durak (a staple card game we play), and a British horror movie starring Calista Flockhart, I dunno, I think the Walgreen's beer was more horrifying.

I finally also got my Chocolate lounge fix on Saturday. Mike also made some delicious homemade Reubens where he corned the corn beef himself...they were mighty tasty, and the Latte's he made were also delicious.

Oh, and somewhere in there we went and saw the last Harry Potter, it was ok, not as good as some of the previous one's IMO.

And so it came to Sunday. My last full day in Asheville. I got up reasonably early for not getting to bed until 5.  Got prepped to start a ride and embarked from Britt and Mike's to head to South Asheville. The ride was 13 miles long and took just under an hour...I'll post the stats pretty soon in a future post.

After the ride, the rest of the day was another good one. I got to Mischa's at about 1:30ish and we went and spent a few hours at lake Julian. I saw the factory where I used to work when I lived here, which brought up some solemn memories from my brief life in Asheville. Lake Julian's water was surprisingly warm, and we found out why...the water is circulated through the Asheville gas fired power plant, apparently it's really warm on one side of the lake...and from Mischa's childhood memories, there are leaches in it. We didn't see any today, but the paddleboating was lots of fun. Then, I finally got my Chinese fix. I've been craving it since before I left Boone, and it didn't let me down. My fortune "You lead an optimistic life." I suppose I do.

Tomorrow, my cycling takes me through Inman on the way to Myrtle, it's a 5 hour ride so I suppose I'll just stay in Inman at the lake for the night. Mischa, Alan, and possibly and old roomate, Sarah, will be coming down, so tomorrow should be another fun filled afternoon at the lake...and I'll finally be riding into South Carolina!

Day 3 in Asheville - Lake time

So Mischa invited me to her parents lake house for the day. Once again we got up pretty late, she picked me up from my sister's place and we drove the hour and a half down to Inman. From there we licked our wounds from the amazing weekend and lounged in the lake.

Her friends Will and Rob as well as her family came over and we all eventually jumped into the speedboat to do some waterskiing and toobin'. I was quite pleased with myself on the waterski's this time. Last time, 3 years ago, it took me 5 tries before I got up on the water, and then of course wiped out face first into the area where my crotch had been moments earlier...legs really aren't supposed to spread that way. Anywho, this time, after one mishap in getting up, I was up on the water. Better yet, the training I did for snowskiing at Hawksnest a few years ago paid off. The two are almost identical in regards to balance and steering. By the end of it all I was hopping wake and skirting nearly beside the boat. Then came the raft. Not much to say there, we were all having a blast, cramming 4 people in a raft that could barely fit 3 of us safely and then cruised around the lake at 40+ mph. The turns were wicked, jumping the wake was intense, and when Larry (Mischa's dad) finally decided that he wanted to throw us off the raft, we all plunged face first into the water. After the second time of getting water up my nose at the speed of 40 mph, I was done - Got back on the boat and watched the crazy 3 flail around like ragdolls until they too had suffered enough whiplash to quit for the day.

Later on, Larry took us out on a night ride on the lake. I know we weren't going terribly fast, again maybe 45, but the combination of not being able to see terribly far on the lake and worrying about running into a maligned buoy or duck freaked me out. Once I got over the fear, the wind in my hair, the tiny sliver of the moon, the wake coming from the boat, and the numerous stars in the sky made it all worthwhile.  I'm beginning to like this whole free-spirited, not a care in the world thing.

Day 2 in Asheville - Second Day of Bele Chere

Day two of Bele Chere. We were sore from yesterday's festivities. Almost sore enough to just take a restful day, but after some back and forth hesitation, we finally decided to go back. We made it to Bele Chere around 1:30 and immediately went for the stages this time. We saw "Skinny Legs and All" another bluesy group with some serious mojo. The lead singers played off of each other incredibly well. Yet another young band, the oldest member was 19, the youngest, 14. They came down from Chicago and they rocked it. Afterwards, we kind of wanted to vedge for a bit so we stopped and saw two more bands, first "Do It to Julia," for a few songs...always a good show, they were a local band from Boone back in the day. Then we saw "Beta Radio," these guys were more laid back, and had more of a vibe of songwriters. We lazed around, took a slight nap and got recharged for the band my sister and Mike wanted to see..."The Protomen"

The only way to describe The Protomen is - epic. Everything they did, they had 4 keyboards, 2 guitarists and two drummers...and of course the matre' d/announcer who'd put various helmets on the lead singer. They  dressed up in costumes, switched instruments, vocals, and just overall rocked the house. They were like Meatloaf if Meatloaf was more epic sounding and sung rock operas about being various characters in video games...completely original.

When their set closed, we ventured up to Sky Bar, atop one of Asheville's largest buildings, enjoyed the gorgeous Asheville views amid Sky Bar's delicious Bloody Mary bar...on a Sunday nonetheless.