I began the day with high hopes after a day of lots of driving in lousy weather, but today’s forecast was even worse than yesterday’s. It was a looping front – swirling from the southeast right into North Carolina and Virginia, and on up the coast into New England. This area had apparently been experiencing a drought, until I arrived and brought the monsoon. I joked, via text message, with my friend Matt that perhaps I was now the savior of the region. Maybe I could start the Church of the Everlasting Drizzle. There must be some tax advantage…
My car is loaded to the gunwales, but I make sure Albert always has an unobstructed view of the road:
As soon as I strapped in and started driving back toward the Parkway, a funny thing happened. I had acquired a Gander Mountain (outdoor store) gift card from somewhere, and meant to use it at the store in Ocala before I left Florida - thinking I could buy some useful item(s), but I never had the chance. One exit down from HoJo's in Roanoke - haha! - a Gander Mountain. I ran in and bought two pairs of hiking shorts, and continued on to the Parkway.
But this day was worse than the day before. Have you ever heard people say that, one time, when they were driving they couldn't see 50 feet in front of them? And you thought, okay, so they're exaggerating a bit. On this day, I swear, I could not see more than 50 feet. This is not good under any circumstances. It is particularly not good on a remote, curvy, wet mountain road.
I knew people would think I was full of crap, so I gathered evidence:
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, I can't believe this idiot took pictures while he was driving under those conditions. My friends, these are the risks I take for you so you will never consider me an exaggerator (plus, I was only going about 10 mph).
God only knows what is in the abyss to the right:
On Tuesday, I drove up and down through the clouds. On this day, I drove IN the clouds. The valley views were outstanding:
So I gripped the wheel tightly, and did what any rational person would do under the circumstances. I ate a banana:
I drove the remaining 100 miles of the Parkway at about 30 mph, and finally arrived at I-64, having already determined that I would spend the night in a warm, cozy Fairfield Inn (Marriott properties are the best) in Charlottesville, Va.
I checked in, had a quick dinner at the neighboring Applebee's (Crispy Orange Chicken bowl), and decided to look for a pub near the University of Virginia campus. The campus (what I could see thorugh the pouring rain) was beautiful: distinguished, elegant, the smell of old money. I ran into a place called "No.3" and ordered a Stella. Several people were at the bar, and as I looked to my left, and then to my right to check out my fellow patrons, I heard a girl say, "Oh my God, he's a Gator!" (I assume she had spotted my hat). Then she started doing the Seminole chop at me.
Her name is Lindsey. She is from Centreville, Virginia - between Manassas and Falls Church (HERE), not far outside DC. She had done her undergrad at FSU (education) and was in grad school at UVa. She wants to teach special ed, and live in Florida when she graduates. She loves the warmth and the beaches. She complained about how cold the winter was here (while the people with her politely rolled their eyes). We chatted for quite a while. Occasionally, she screamed madly at the TV, rooting for the Washington Capitals to beat the Pittsburgh Penguins in the Stanley Cup Playoffs (they lost 3-2). I wondered if I could ever become a Capitals fan. I quietly watched the Celtics destroy the Magic in game 2 of their series. Lindsey was alright. For a 'Nole.
Back to the hotel. Still pouring rain. My poor bikes (trussed up on the back of my car) have been in more rain in the last two days than at any other time in their existence. I'll have to apply lots of oil when the weather finally clears.
Tomorrow, I hope to get to the Natural Chimneys Park in Mt. Solon, Va. There are two Civil War battlefields nearby: Port Republic and Cross Keys.
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