49: tailwinds, escher, mike and ed, no weed, karo, dad joke, a little gravel, the gate, church break, big bird, severe thunderstorm, dylan, b&b

May 5, 2025

Bracey to Blackstone

My first day of riding was on 18 March, almost two months ago. During that time I've had a headwind maybe three or four days. Of the remaining days, one of them was relatively no wind, and the rest were tailwinds.

If you don't cycle much, you may not understand the significance of that. It's the cycling equivalent of winning the lottery, then winning it again the following day, then again every single day for a month straight.

The wind, which one friend told me is "a great training partner," is so fickle that on an out-and-back ride from my house I've had a headwind in both directions. Hills? Mountains? No problem.... You go up, then you get to go down. Wind? Not so much.... You ride all day against it, then you continue riding against it, and it can really become demoralizing.

In our journals we mention the weather on a regular basis because it can define a tour, for good or bad. We mention the traffic, and the roads, for the same reason.

That's four paragraphs simply to say that I've become so accustomed to a tailwind that when I was riding this morning I thought I had a headwind, when I simply didn't have a tailwind.

the towel rack in this hotel looks like M. C. Escher designed it

The town of Bracey, at least the corner I'm in, only has three buildings (a hotel, an excellent Mexican food restaurant, and a convenience store with a Quiznos and a Pizza Hut), making it the perfect stop for a cyclist. What else do we need?

After finishing breakfast I went back outside and was about to leave when Mike asked me about my trip. After a few minutes he poked his head back in the door and summoned his dad, Ed, to come out. The elder Smith has done a lot of cycling and Mike thought he'd want to meet me.

Mike owns and manages the convenience store; Ed is retired. As you've probably noted from previous encounters, I usually find out at least as much information as I pass along about myself, but in this case they were so interested in my trip that the scales weren't as balanced during this encounter.

What I do know is that Ed used to ride a lot but stopped because of some health issues. Interestingly, those same health issues haven't stopped some of the people on CycleBlaze from touring, even the ones who are a decade or more older. He was a bit surprised to hear about that. I encouraged him to climb back in the saddle and take at least an overnighter (it would be a "gateway" trip, I'm sure), especially since he said his doctor would think it's okay.

Because Ed was familiar with bike trails as far as D.C. and Maryland, he let me know what to expect. We talked for a long time, more than 45 minutes, so I got off to a late start. It was, however, time well spent and I was glad for the visit. As I've mentioned before, the point of a bike trip isn't the arriving, it's the getting there and, more importantly, the people I meet along the way.

Two of the questions they asked were firsts:
"Do you ever get tired of riding?" The question wasn't about physical stamina, but instead about getting burned out. I gave it some thought, and determined that it could certainly happen, and might at some point, but it's never happened to me yet. The question made me wonder about people who ride most of the year, the Andersons, the Millers, the Hugens, and others, whether they simply get tired of the road.

The second question was "What surprised you most about this trip?" My brain started scanning, processing everything I've seen, but I wasn't able to come up with a single item. That sentence can be interpreted two ways: (1) Nothing at all surprised me, or (2) Of the many items I can't come up with just one.

It's the latter, because I'm surprised by everything. The weird towel rack, the fact that a tree can see so much abuse and still flourish, that a dive bar in Port Orange could fill me with so much happiness, that a tree on the side of the road can have almost 50,000 followers on Facebook , that the gender of a turtle depends on the temperature of the sand the egg is nesting in, and, of course, the thing I'm surprised about every time I go on tour: that in spite of what you see online and in the news, people are basically good. My faith in humanity is restored with each trip.

These lined the road today. They appear to be some kind of alien species intent on taking over the planet.

you know, come to think of it, I haven't smelled marijuana in 2-3 days

I love the bishop's first name.... very Southern. And it's not a "Sunday Bible Study," it's a "Sunday Bible Encounter."

I can't see one of these in a field without recalling my dad's favorite Dad Joke.

there's a brick wall coming up? or just a change in the road surface

It took me down a very scenic road for 3-4 miles, almost all of which was downhill, although a short section did have a 14% grade ascent.

Take a close look at this gate. Do you see anything unusual about it?

That fence is the first one without a Posted or No Trespassing sign I've seen since I started on this trip more than a thousand miles ago. That's the best welcome Virginia could offer.

This is the kind of side path in which you can find the perfect stealth camping spot. There isn't anything on this road for a long way in either direction, and you can see a clearing up the path.

I parked myself on the church stairs, out of the sun, for half an hour while eating a snack

then back out among the fields and forests

or, sometimes, where the forest used to be.... looks like another "tree protection" detail

This guy (an emu?) jogged alongside me until I got out my camera. Then he sprinted away.

there was plenty of variety in today's scenery

This was unexpected. There was no rain in the forecast, but I am in the South where afternoon thunderstorms can appear suddenly. I don't mind thunderstorms, but "severe thunderstorms" could pose an issue with driving winds and/or hail.

and looking over my left shoulder I could see the gathering clouds

Ed had mentioned that there's a bridge out. He noted that "They started working on it a year and a half ago and it's still not done," and showed me the detour I'd need to take. I hadn't seen a single detour sign, so I didn't think this could be it.

However, when I pulled up I could see that it was the bridge construction.

There were a couple of workers so I slowly rolled up to them and asked about getting through.

"There's no way. You're gonna need to head back to the detour."

I'd been keeping an eye out for a detour sign, and on a bike you don't really miss something like that, especially when you're looking for it (and especially when you ride as slowly as me). There wasn't a detour sign. I was sure of it, and I told him so.

Quite cavalierly, he said it is there, and that there's no way to cross the river.

"You mean there's a big gap? Literally no way to cross?"

A nod, somewhat smug.

I just stood there a minute, straddling my bike, as if he were going to recant his statement, or that, miraculously, there actually was a way to get across the river.

The bridge construction is just past the Barfoot Reservoir Recreational Area, so you can see how far I'll need to backtrack.

As I was just standing there, looking pathetic, another man ambled over. In an instant, he took in my bike (and probably my forlorn expression) and asked "Traveling by bike?"

"I am."

"Well, we don't normally let anyone pass, but since you're on a bike, follow me."

Without even glancing at the other two workers (a nod, somewhat smug, would've been nice) I walked with him across the new white concrete to where there actually was a bridge. If you look at the previous road picture, the brown item on the center right is a ramp, so I didn't even have to lift my bike up.

Wanting to savor the moment (and to get a few pictures), I walked instead of pedaling. The far side of the bridge was also complete, with no gaping maw to prevent me from crossing.

The words "Thank you," "I really appreciate this," and "Thank you SO much" sprayed from my mouth like water from a fire hydrant, approaching the point of obsequious fawning, so I hope he realizes how appreciative I was.

I asked him his name... Dylan, and I shouldn't have been surprised he's such a nice guy. His last name is Frasier.

also from the bridge: the sky is getting darker

to that path. I stayed on the main road, which had very little traffic, and found that skipping the service road didn't matter.

I started pedaling hard, not minding if I got rained on but preferring not to feel any large chunks of ice hitting my new helmet, or having to ride through small bodies of water. Even though the temperature was only in the mid-70s I could feel my core temperature rising as I pushed hard on the pedals.

I arrived at the B&B fifteen minutes before it started raining heavily, and had I taken the detour I wouldn't have been close to arriving before the skies opened. For a while, I just sat out on the front porch in the rocking chair, cooling off and watching the rain. Eventually it got a bit chilly so I went inside.

The two house pictures were taken the next morning.

Heart

Comment

Link

Today's ride: 39 miles (63 km)
Total: 1,339 miles (2,155 km)

Rate this entry's writing	Heart	12
Comment on this entry	Comment	1

Steve Miller/GrampiesWe actually Don't get tired of being on the road. Every day seems to bring something new and interesting. We DO feel regret as each trip rolls (sorry couldn't resist) to a close, and start planning the next one before we end our current ride. That means we are now in the earliest planning and logistics phase for a fall tour!
Reply to this comment
6 days ago