Day Seven: Richmond, VA to Mineral,VA -- THE HIPPIE COMMUNE!

Daily mileage: 43
Miles to date: 197

Since Austin basically lives in downtown Richmond, the first 14 miles of this day were spent fighting traffic trying to get out of town. We took our first snack break at this produce stand just outside the city limits.

From Krissy's Big Adventure

Today's destination is an intentional community outside Mineral, VA. Since Daniel had once lived in an intentional community in Washington state, he wanted to see how another one operated, so into the backwoods of Virginia we went.

This was our biggest mileage day to date -- and the last bit of it took us across 5 miles of unpaved, treacherous roads, including what amounted to little more than a rutted wagon trail through private property. I was exhausted and fit to be tied by the end of it, which basically meant that I was asleep before the sun went down. Before that, we enjoyed dinner with the residents.

I can only imagine what this group made of me. When we arrived I was pretty harried from the ride. Then I had a mouthful of food when it got to be my turn to tell people my name. Somehow, my "one moment please while I swallow this food" gesture was interpreted by a guy named Puck as a refusal to shake hands.

Meanwhile, there were these two malnourished turkeys that were obviously not for food but belonged to someone as pets. I watched at least eight different people casually shoo them off the porch only to be allowed to jump up onto the picnic tables where we ate. I found this endlessly funny and as I looked around I realized that in this particular place the line between hillbilly and hippie was razor thin, possibly defined only by politics and the loft full of computers upstairs.

The next morning we said our goodbyes and a very earnest hippie took this photo of us, which still cracks me up:

From Krissy's Big Adventure

Day Six: Glen Allen, VA to Richmond, VA

Daily mileage: 11
Miles to date: 154


A jaunt across town to stay with another WFR, Austin, who pampered us well. He made an awesome stir-fry for dinner and loaded us up with PB&J the next morning for the day's journey.

Day Five: Frog Level, VA to Glen Allen, VA

Daily mileage: 18
Miles to date: 143

This day's ride took us over a logging road, through the lovely little town of Ashland, and then into the craptacularity that is the cyclist- and pedestrian-hostile suburbs.

Day Four: Fredericksburg, VA to Frog Level, VA

Daily mileage: 29
Miles to date: 125

From Krissy's Big Adventure

Our first fire station! This day was pretty harrowing if only because we spent so much of it on the Richmond Turnpike, which was both busy and desolate at the same time. By this I mean that it was a highway through the woods with fast-moving traffic and no shoulder. All I could hear in my head was the narrator from Forensic Files telling of my untimely demise at the hands of some deranged motorist. "The victim was riding her bicycle on the Richmond Turnpike..." 

Anyway, though we had planned to get to a suburb just outside of Richmond this day, a stop at the fire house in Frog Level for some water turned into an invitation to stay in the bunks -- an offer we could not refuse.

Day Three: Lake Curtis, VA to Fredericksburg, VA

Daily mileage: 33
Miles to date: 96

From Krissy's Big Adventure

Oy. This was supposed to be a rest day since Daniel was sick and I am plain old out of shape -- just an 11 mile jaunt into Fredericksburg, except we hadn't planned well enough ahead to have a place to stay. So after another noon start, we ended up riding south past town, but not before we spent THREE HOURS in front of a Walmart trying to find a route and a place to stay. We spent the rest of the day riding another 15 or so miles, racing the sun and barely making it to a KOA campground before a torrential rain fell on us all night long. And because I was too lazy to set up my rain fly properly, the one-inch strip of exposed vent let in about two inches of water, leaving me to sleep with my feet and sleeping bag in a puddle all night.

On the plus side, I got to see hay rolls today.

Day Two: Centreville, VA to Lake Curtis, VA

Daily mileage: 37
Miles to date: 63

I cannnot believe how good I feel today considering how miserable I was last night. My sit bones, though tender, are adjusting and my legs weren't sore at all this morning. I actually feel like a human being again!

After battling traffic for a day and a half, we finally found some quiet country roads on the other side of Manassas. I don't know what it is about fields with hay rolls, but I just dig them to pieces.

We rolled into Lake Curtis County Park this evening, low on both water and energy.

Our plan was to stealth camp since this park doesn't actually allow camping, but imagine our delight when we rolled up and there was an overnight HAM radio convention/gathering. We definitely got lucky -- especially since some dude wearing a Polo Shirt of Authority wanted to kick us out because we obviously weren't part of the radio thingy. Sadly, Daniel also came down with a pretty debilitating case of food poisoning and was basically down for the count.

Day One: Washington, DC to Centreville, VA

Daily mileage: 26
Miles to date: 26

From Krissy's Big Adventure

This was a rough day. It was quite the caper trying to get out of the city, but only because we insisted on taking the Roosevelt Bridge out of town -- the bike entrance to which was nearly impossible to locate. If you're looking for description of sights, this is not going to be that sort of post (partially because I'm having a little trouble uploading photos at the moment, but mostly because this day was notable for its toll on my body and spirit).

Still, we were able to stay mostly on bike trails the entire day. The hills were steep and frequent. Since I chose to come on this trip at the last minute and did not get to do any training, I knew I would be lagging and I knew I'd be hurting. Even though I knew better, I still let my nutrition and hydration get away from me so that by the time we decided to stop for the night, I was so run down that I started to cry from exhaustion and the dread of how hard the next day would be. I've been riding carbon fiber for the last four years, and I've never hauled a load. All told, my bike and gear (before adding my body weight) is 87 pounds. This day put me through the ringer, but I'm proud to say I was still able to laugh and make a few half-hearted jokes after the ride.

We ended the day watching rec league softball before setting up camp behind a pile of rocks by the park's maintenance shed like real live vagabonds. Or hobos. Apart from how destroyed I felt, it was actually a lovely way to end the day, complete with a line of trees sparkling with fireflies.

Sometime around 2am, I heard what I think was probably a raccoon getting eaten by something slightly larger. It was just a few feet from my tent, screaming its head off and putting up a fight. Shortly after, I heard the sounds of flesh being ripped from a carcass and all I could think was, "Oh my God, we're still in the suburbs. What am I going to do when we hit Yellowstone?"

How I Spent My Summer Solstice

Or, "Train People Are the Best."

It is not lost on me that my train ride to Washington DC should begin on the longest day of the year. Though I'm grateful for the quiet of the train ride to Flagstaff to Chicago, the leg from Chicago to DC with all its characters and hijinx made the five hour delay on an already 17-hour ride totally worth it.

I met a "fellow wanderer" in the lounge car today -- that's how he labelled the URL for my blog in his own journal. This guy is 27, just quit his job in Portland last week (I can dig it), and is going east to hike the Appalachian Trail from Harper's Ferry to Maine. Though he looks like he could easily be returning from the trail with his full beard and scruffy appearance, that I could sit with him at a table in the lounge car and not be knocked over by the smell is probably a good indicator that he has yet to set out.

Meanwhile, my seatmate is an Irish dude who looks something like a blond/gray Robin Williams. When we boarded last night in Chicago, he fussed rather aggressively with his footrest. 

"It's okay," he said. "I'm Irish; we break everything."

"Yeah, I'm Scottish," I replied. "We break everything too."

Shortly after the train got moving, he embraced more of the stereotype and disappeared to the lounge car, where I discovered him two hours later. I went down to get dinner: a couple hot dogs and a glass of cabernet -- because I'm Klassy with a K. Irish was tucked into a back table, drinking and talking politics while one of the conductors sat and chatted with me.

I wouldn't go so far as to say the conductor was chatting me up, but at one point he did drop the "how do you not have a boyfriend" line. After I gave him my best explanation, he said, "Sounds like you need to find a new bike path." I had to agree. 

Once the conductor went back to work, Irish came and sat with me, having sufficiently worn down his previous conversation partner. Between the late hour and his level of intoxication, all I could take from it was "this is the part of the movie where Irish imparts his wisdom, only it turns strange and awkward." The bit I remember is that he works for a pharmaceutical company and invented some hardware that streamlines the processing of pap smears, as well as something that does 3D imaging on mammograms. 

All I know is it is an AWKWARD transition from late night chatter of this nature in the lounge car to walking back to our assigned seats to sleep that close together. But Irish is an early riser, so he was up and back in the lounge car when it opened at 5:30am. I wandered down to get myself some coffee around nine, only to find him buying himself a beer. YES!

There are still three other very drunk, very entertaining characters I haven't even gotten to yet -- oh and the lounge car attendant who challenged me to a push up contest -- but as this post is already lengthy, I'll wrap it up here. 

As much fun as this ride was, with all the colorful travellers, the absolute best was being greeted in Union Station by Daniel and Julie, the travellers who will accompany me on our two-wheeled journey west:

A Bittersweet Beginning

Ever since I took up triathlon in 2005, I have wanted to ride across the country on my bicycle. 

This is the part of the show when I write about why I am taking this trip, which I may do at some later point in the trip. The thing is, no one cares about the details. Unhappy in my career, blah blah blah -- it's not an unknown story. The part anyone might find interesting is that what was supposed to be a gradual, well-planned transition to a new career turned into the impulsive selling of my home and joining up with two people who, for all intents and purposes, are basically strangers to me.

It has all the markings of an epic adventure, and the only thing that gives me pause is that this Epic Bike Ride was supposed to be the Lewis & Clark Trail with my dad next summer. I know how much he wanted to do this with me -- I can see it in the way he tricked out my bike and helped me gather up the gear I'd need. So, though I am wildly excited about this trip, there is a bit of melancholy that my dad -- who got me into cycling in the first place -- won't be on the road with me.