June 8, 2022
Back home
Aaaaaannnnnd that's a wrap
THE DAY STARTED WELL ENOUGH, after a really irritating night. The irritation was almost entirely due to consequences of the tent I was using, which I have come to dislike strongly. "Loathe" is pretty close to not being strong enough a term to describe the level of my distaste.
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1 year ago
1 year ago
It's a tent I've had for well over a decade, maybe over two. It was an impulse buy, so it wasn't exactly carefully researched or chosen with care and deliberation.
Things that I like about this tent: it's small and relatively lightweight, fairly fast and easy to set up, and didn't leak in yesterday evening's light rain showers.
Things I dislike, in no particular order (a MUCH longer list):
- The only way I can enter is feet first, which necessitates sitting on the ground. When the ground is wet, muddy, or full of grit (as in the campsite pad shown above) there's no way to keep the mess out of the tent.
- It's not free-standing; it MUST be staked down to function.
- The zippers on both the screen "door" and the outer "vestibule" are prone to jamming, very very easily, in the surrounding fabric or the dangling tie-back ribbons. This despite my vigilance in attempting to prevent said jammage.
- It's not tall enough for me to sit up in, let alone do any meaningful organizing or housekeeping while inside. That results in a giant pile of stuff accumulating near the entry, contributing further to the mess.
- It would be helpful to be a contortionist when inside the thing. Anything that isn't immediately in easy reach when I'm flat on my back or lying on one side may as well not be in the tent at all.
- Speaking not being in the tent: there's zero external covered space. If it's not in the tent it's in the elements (unless I have my BoB trailer and its dry bag with me).
- Thank goodness I didn't have to break camp in the rain: the only way to get things repacked is outside the tent (as for example on the picnic table at the campsite). Had it been raining everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, would have been wet and dirty.
Knowing what an ordeal it is to get in and out of this dratted thing, I held out as long as I could against the inevitable wee-hours (see what I did there?) relief trip but in the end I was forced to cave in to bladder pressure. Thank goodness I was the only camper on my loop: the profanity-laced outbursts of frustration as I attempted to get re-settled afterward would not have been well received but would have been clearly audible.
Alright, fast forward a few hours. I've had a few hours of better sleep and recovered my equanimity. It's a beautiful morning: clear, absolutely dead calm, cool, and air full of bird song. Coffee and oatmeal require only boiling water to prepare, which my trusty backpacker stove quickly has ready.
After a leisurely breakfast, I took my time getting packed and ready to go. Ultimately I elected to continue forward rather than backtracking, so I set my initial destination as Mt. Airy Bike (my favorite shop, ever), 13 miles distant.
Although the route included several miles on a fairly busy, shoulderless, two-lane state highway, traffic was generally polite and there were no lamentable incidents. I did make a point of pulling into driveways and other turnouts whenever I could, to allow the built-up traffic to flow past. Nobody had to follow me terribly long.
The road is pretty hilly: nothing brutal but lots of quarter-mile five to six percent rises. I got through them alright but was glad there was plenty of shade. It would not be pleasant under a broiling sun.
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On arrival at the bike shop I was surprised that there was no sign of activity. Generally about half the inventory is out on display in the parking lot, alongside the road, and elsewhere. Instead the lot was devoid of both bikes and vehicles, and there were no signs of life at the shop. A closer look at the front door revealed the reason: they're closed on Wednesdays.
However, there's still the welcoming picnic table in the shade in the side yard, so I made myself comfortable and settled in for a nice long break. It was time for elevenses, so I proceeded to break into various snacks and wash them down with copious water and sports drink (I had stocked up at the gas station a half mile before arriving at the shop).
It was also a great opportunity to open, spread out, and air dry the tent, my camp towel, and yesterday's riding duds, which had gone unwashed because the evening showers guaranteed they would not have gotten dry. The parking lot being empty and idle, and the asphalt nice and warm, things were duly spread to dry.
Eventually, it was time to get rolling again so I got all packed up. I was just reaching for my helmet when who should drive up but the shop owner. We've been friends for well over 30 years, but hadn't seen one another in a while so we had a good visit. My bike also got decorated:
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Continuing my way homeward after leaving the bike shop took me on a mix of roads I know well and some I've ridden only a few times. In all cases they're roads I've not followed for many a year.
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1 year ago
One of them, Howard Chapel Road, twists and winds, drops and climbs, through a mostly-forested area in Patuxent River State Park, straddling a small stream that's tributary to the Patuxent River. It is wonderfully shaded, making it a haven of cool air on an increasingly warm afternoon- just what I needed. It's also recently been resurfaced, which makes for very pleasant riding.
Partway along, one comes to the Howard Chapel Cemetery (additional information available here). It's badly neglected and overgrown but is shaded and quiet and makes a good place to pause, rest, and reflect on history. It's one of those quiet reminders that the heritage of the area is multi-cultural.
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The school, chapel, and cemetery were built on land owned by Enoch George Howard. Howard was a former slave who bought his freedom in 1857, and became a well-respected citizen in the community.
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Moving on from the cemetery, my route took me deeper and deeper into more densely settled and developed areas of the county. It was somewhere in here that I considered calling it a day but on reflection realized that was a cop-out. Giving up for the sake of convenience won't be an option three weeks from now, so it's best not to get in the habit. Besides, it wouldn't go far in support of my claim that I'm ready.
Arriving home, I could still make out the track in the lawn that my tires had made yesterday morning as I departed. Was it really only yesterday? It somehow seems like half a lifetime ago.
I think I'm ready to at least set off for the big adventure. We'll see, soon enough.
Today's ride: 42 miles (68 km)
Total: 207 miles (333 km)
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