Up Pompeii – Day 49

Date: Sunday 26^th September   

Route:  Lexington, Virginia – Charlottesville, Virginia 

Distance: 80 miles 

Total climb: 7096ft

Net climb: -507ft

We woke to a grey and wet morning and what looked like being the first sustained period of rain that we had encountered on the entire trip.  The weather, though, reflected a greater concern that had been with me for a couple of days and was to come to fruition today.  We had one remaining significant climb left on the route – up and over the Blue Ridge Mountains and by all accounts it was steep.  I was not looking forward to it.  Fortunately, Parkes was his usual optimistic and reassuring self which ensured that breakfast (in the diner next to the motel) was an enjoyable start to the day.

After a photo-session outside the motel we had an easy ride through the beautiful town of Lexington (home to a famous military academy) and out along the South River to the town of Vesuvius, at the foot of the Blue Ridge Mountains.  It being a Sunday, everything was closed and so we abandoned our planned stop prior to the climb.  It had been raining the entire morning and by this stage we were drenched and very cold.  The climb would, at least, warm us up. 

The road took a sharp turn to the right and then we were climbing.  It really was a long, steep climb through a dense forest, made more difficult by the passing traffic and the non-stop rain that served not only to make the road slippery but also to limit visibility through water-covered sunglasses.  We were in our lowest gears and just concentrating on keeping the pedals turning, but eventually, after about an hour of climbing we made it to the top and stopped under a bridge to dry ourselves off as best we could.  We had done it; there were no more hills to conquer.  We were at 3500 feet above sea level and we were finishing at the sea.  For the first time on the trip I started to think about arriving in York Town.

Nonetheless, we had to crack on.  It was cold and wet and we still had to navigate the Blue Ridge Parkway before dropping down onto the Piedmont (the flat inland areas to the east of the Blue Ridge Mountains).   The Parkway is a famous drive along the top of the Blue Ridge Mountains renowned for its magnificent scenery.  Unfortunately, we were denied any semblance of a view by the fact that we were cycling in the clouds.  Disappointing as this was, the mist added an extra dimension to the ride and required significant amounts of concentration, as we were unable to see more that 5 metres ahead of ourselves at times.

We needed a proper break and just in time, Team Stockham arrived and pulled over in a lay-by.   Towels, snacks and dry clothes were the order of the day (along with a newspaper which I put down the front of my jersey for the downhill – Tour de France style), and once we set back off along the parkway we were significantly warmer and feeling much better for it.  Our plan was to complete the rest of the Parkway and then stop for lunch in Rockfish Gap.  We kept going through the rain and mist and enjoyed a long, winding downhill on the way to warmth and hot food. 

The plan was flawed.  We arrived at Rockfish Gap to find that there was nothing there, at all.  Not even a gas station with Hunt Brothers pizzas.  We were going to have to keep riding and hope that we stumbled across something en route. 

Our low morale was not helped by the fact that the next section of the route was the worst part of the day; a short stretch along a very busy road with no hard shoulder.  Thankfully we soon turned sharp right and wound down a very steep section of gravel covered road that it appeared that cars were not very keen to travel on.  One explanation for this aversion may have been the road’s ability to fox GPS systems as half-way down the road we met up again with Team Stockham, coming back up from a dead-end that G2 had taken them down.

After the excitement and beauty of the morning, our afternoon was more prosaic.  We cycled along a series of minor roads, flanked intermittently by houses and woodlands; with the highlight a bizarre nativity scene in the yard of a house that featured a urinating boy.  No explanation was given.

We were within 25 miles of our final destination, but it was about 5pm and we had not eaten lunch.  The small back-roads that we were riding seemed to offer little hope of a diner or even a shop and so we were beginning to reconcile ourselves to the fact that we were just going to have to go without.  Then, right on cue we turned a corner to see Team Stockham parked up outside a large warehouse, which we soon discovered was the Chiler Peach Orchard Warehouse.  We had arrived just as they were shutting up shop.  Team Stockham bought up the warehouse’s remaining reserves of peach milkshake and cookies and we sat in the warmth of the car and ate as much as we could manage. 

It could not have been a better timed stop and after it not even the hardening rain could bring down our spirits.  We continued along the quiet back-roads before joining the main road into Charlottesville.  The only remaining obstacles for the day were the rain, finding our motel and the fact that Fred’s brakes had almost totally stopped working.  To counter Fred’s irrepressible momentum, I rode at the back for the traffic heavy few miles into Charlottesville.  Fred is far more aware of what is going on around him when cycling, so our general policy has always been for Fred to ride at the back and call when there is oncoming traffic (this is generally the more dangerous place to ride and I extremely grateful that Parkes has both the ability and the courage to do it).  Knowing my limitations as far as road awareness is concerned I took my role very seriously, but may have overcompensated.  The people of Charlottesville may have been puzzled (as was Fred) as to why I spent the final two miles repeatedly shouting “Clear…still clear…still clear…” as we rode into town.  Eventually Fred pointed out at some traffic lights that I only needed to mention when a car was actually approaching. 

Despite these glitches we finally met up with Team Stockham who told us to hang a left and head for the Days Inn.  Fortunately they caught up with us in time to point out that they actually meant the Budget Inn, before I had cycled too far past the entrance.  Despite its name, the motel was one of the largest and plushest that we had stayed in for days and gave us the chance to wash and dry ourselves and our clothes and sort out our kit, in the glare of a flat-screen TV.  Even better than that we only had to pop across the road to an excellent diner known as “The Villa”.  

After an excellent meal which was eaten next to the tallest man I have ever seen – comfortably over seven feet tall (and who one member of Team Stockham decided it would be a good idea to ask if he had ever played basketball) – we decided to drive around to see if any of the bars were busy.   Charlottesville is home to the University of Virginia and is a thriving college town, but it was a very, very wet Sunday night and it seemed that the students had all stayed at home.  There were lots of bars but they were all very quiet.  We decided that after a tough day a quiet night was the best option.

Points of interest:

• Whilst stopped at the peach orchard one of the proprietors warned us that the route we were supposed to be riding on was closed for maintenance and gave us some fairly unintelligible directions.  We continued on our planned course to find no sign of road works at all.  Another classic example of Americans not being entirely familiar with their surroundings.
• We dropped back into second place in the race after being overtaken by an amateur spandex warrior out for an evening ride who in passing informed us that we were “likely to get wet”.
• Despite only having to “pop” across the road to get to “the Villa” for our evening meal the rain was so hard that we drove the 40 metres to get across to the door of the restaurant.  It was really raining…