In the City...

Saturday, May 9th - Sat up in my tent at sun-up, and it was cold and still drizzling! I tightened the zipper on my sleeping bag, pulled up my Gator blanket and slept for two more hours! I packed up my stuff and took my first hot shower in two days (which cost $2 at the little camp store up the hill). It was time to drive down into the city.

I took my time to navigate the remaining fifty-something miles to Front Royal and the end of Skyline Drive. At that point, I had officially driven the Blue Ridge Parkway and Skyline Drive, over the course of six days. With mixed feelings, I turned on to the ramp for I-66. I needed to head back to civilization, but I was finally enjoying my time in the hills. Oh well…

My path took me up the mountains, down the mountains, and, sometimes, through the mountains!:


For some reason, the National Park Service has a campground in Greenbelt, Maryland – 12 miles outside of DC. It was only 3 miles from the Greenbelt Metro Station, and it was $16 a night. Seemed like a decent way to transition from the mountains to the city.

The campground is nothing special – it certainly didn’t offer the same kind of view that Lewis Mountain did – but it is a decent place to spend a few days at dirt cheap rates.

During the evening, I hopped the Metro to meet up with TJ and Leah and Colleen somewhere in Columbia Heights. We stopped in some little dive bar and hung out for a few hours. It was strange seeing Gainesville people here, and really strange trying to get re-oriented from the top of a mountain to the middle of a major city! I caught the last train out, and flopped in my tent at about 4:30 in the morning.

I’m finally in DC. Time to be productive…

History Lesson...

Friday, May 8th – The first white man probably saw the Shenandoah Valley in 1716. What a sight it must have been to get to the top of one of the eastern ridges and look into the spacious, fertile valley below, with the north and south branches of the Shenandoah River swirling through it. By the time of the Civil War, the area was heavily planted and farmed, and was the source of much of the beef, wheat and corn consumed by Confederate armies in the East. The valley’s importance as the “Breadbasket of the Confederacy” meant that the area was fought in and fought over many times. The town of Winchester, at the bottom (northern) end of the valley, changed hands no fewer than 70 times during the War.

I was really enjoying Lewis Mountain, and had already decided to stay another night, and spend this day driving around the site of two Shenandoah Civil War clashes – Port Republic and Cross Keys – about 30 miles to the southwest. I had a late, huge breakfast of eggs, bacon and orange juice, stopped in Elkton for coffee and a few more supplies, then rolled along.

Port Republic and Cross Keys are not state or national parks, so you have to look for information, interpretive signs and monuments on your own – or with the help of one of the many brochures published by various organizations.

When you see road signs like this, you know you're in the right area:


A roadside interpretive sign:


There MUST be a story here. Graves of two Confederate soldiers in a local cemetery, but those headstones are new. Bodies recently discovered? Hmmm... :


Back at Lewis Mountain, I opted to avoid the previous night’s smoke signals, and have a giant pita stuffed with tarragon chicken salad, lettuce, diced onions, diced tomatoes and bean sprouts. It was delicious. I started a fire earlier tonight – the forecast again called for rain, and I figured I should use up the wood I had purchased upon arrival. The night was cold - colder than last night. James had departed for home in the morning, so I sat by the warm fire reading my book, probably for at least two hours.

As I sat there, I watched other campers pull in and set up – it was a Friday night so I figured it might be a busier than the previous night. One guy pulled in two sites to my right, and unpacked a few things. He was in a tiny car, I’m not sure what kind. He pulled out something and started eating. I think he had a small cooler. And that was about it. I sat by my roaring fire, and watched as he spent an hour trying to get a fire started, and then gave up (I didn’t tell him that I had started mine with a Duraflame log – one of the miscellaneous supplies I had acquired in Elkton). He had nothing. Apparently, nobody had told him that camping does require at least a bit of planning and preparation. He sat in the front seat of his car, reading by the dome light. I guess he was planning to sleep in his car.

By about 10 PM, you could see the lightning in the distance and hear the deep, long rumble of thunder. By 11, it started to rain. I threw any loose items in my car, and ran to the tent. I had tightened down the top cover of my tent, and, once I saw it was going to hold up despite the gusting wind and rain, I relaxed and went to sleep. I woke up at about 2:30 to pee. I held my raincoat over my head and ran up the hill to the bathroom. The guy two sites down was gone. Hahaha. What a dumbass.

It rained all night, and it was COLD. I awoke at first light, sat up, and I could see my breath in the tent. No thanks. I read for a few minutes and went back to sleep. Awoke at 9, had more delicious bacon, eggs and orange juice, and started to pack. The four deer returned to their little patch of grass. I watched, and tried to be quiet while I threw things around to get them in order. They didn’t seem to care.

I snapped a photo of the first deer that wandered toward me. I think he was trying to smile. Show off:


Breakfast of champions on top of Lewis Mountain:


Alligators need lots of water:


I really enjoyed my two days on Lewis Mountain. I would love to go back (I might do it next weekend). For now, I guess I have gotten close enough to DC that I need to get my ass down there.

Finally...

Thursday - May 7th -- Woke up in my comfy Fairfield Inn in Charlottesville, and looked out the window to see… rain. Still pouring outside. I was in the unusual predicament of actually having made more northward progress than I had intended while enjoying much less of the great outdoors than I had hoped. If I was going to be stuck in a hotel for yet another night, I might as well stay in Charlottesville, and maybe play tourist. I checked the radar. It looked like there were some clear skies behind the current deluge. I went downstairs and took my time with the complimentary breakfast (thanks, Marriott!). By the time I looked out my window again… sunshine! I was off. I cruised back west on I-64, and turned right on Skyline Drive.

I had gone no more than five miles on Skyline Drive when I realized why people go to the trouble of driving on this thing. On a reasonably clear day, it’s gorgeous. After two days of driving in a rainy haze, this was magnificent. This is what it’s supposed to look like!



A green canopy punctuated with thousands of tiny white dogwood blossoms:


Beautiful views at each turn:




I had intended to aim for the Natural Chimneys Park, but fifteen miles on Skyline Drive convinced me I should stay in one of the primitive campgrounds there. I was prepared to go without electricity or water. No problem. I got to Lewis Mountain Campground – just under 100 miles up Skyline, and stopped to set up my tent. It was perfect. I drove down into the nearest town – Elkton, about 17 or 18 miles away – to get some ice and last minute items. I decided to celebrate with a steak.

Back up on Lewis Mountain, I cooked my steak on the grill and heated up a mixture of canned corn and peas as the sun began to get lower in the sky on the far side of the valley. I had chatted with one of the other campers who said a bear had wandered into camp just on the other side of the ridge the night before. No big deal. Then it dawned on me, as I watched my steak sizzle on the grill, that I was basically sending smoke signals to the bears for miles around. Fresh red meat, come and get it. Oh well.

From the Shenandoah National Park website: "Shenandoah National Park has one of the densest populations of black bears documented within the U.S..."

I was a little nervous:


As I was cleaning, another camper walked up to me and said, “I saw your plates.” Gator tags. Then I looked at the hat he was wearing. Gators. Haha. We stood and talked for a while. His name was James. He had graduated from UF, was working at FAU in Delray Beach, and was an avid camper/hiker. He was solo camping too.
As we stood there, a deer walked into a nearby tent site to nibble on the green grass. Then another. Then two more. We minded our own business, and they minded theirs. James eventually wandered off, but I told him I was going to start a fire, and to come by and warm up before he hit the sack. The forecast said it would be mid-50’s, but it was windy up on the peak of the mountain.

My campsite on Lewis Mountain:


I started a nice fire, and sat in my chair reading by the light of my battery operated lantern. I could look off across the Shenandoah Valley, beyond Massanutten, and see the Alleghany Mountains in the distance. It was perfect. James came by for a quick warm-up by the fire. I read for a while longer, and watched while a few late-arriving parties pulled in and set up. Then it was bedtime. I read in tent for a good hour, actually spending most of that time convincing myself that my steak some signals had been ineffective. When I decided that I was no longer afraid of bears, I dozed off. It took my sleeping bag and my Gator blanket to keep me warm, but I slept well, considering I was in the middle of nowhere. Finally.

More Rain...

Wednesday – May 6th – Staying in a Howard Johnson’s once a decade or so reminds me why I don’t stay in them more often.

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.

Rain...

Tuesday – May 5th - I awoke to the sound all campers dread – the sound of rain on the tent canopy. 7:48 AM. Packing a soggy sleeping bag and a wet, muddy tent is not fun. There was little hope of cooking the bacon and eggs I had planned to have for breakfast. I read for an hour, hoping for the rain to cease. I finally got a lull, and decided to pack up as quickly as possible, and hit the road.

The weather was lousy all around, and the Blue Ridge Parkway had several detours – three sections of the road were closed. That was annoying as hell. Squinting into a pouring rain looking for Detour signs on treacherous, wooded, back-country roads.

I began the day with no specific destination in mind, but it quickly became a matter of just trying to decide whether or not I should camp out. When I reached the peaks of the mountains the weather was decent, but down in the valleys it was solid overcast. All the campgrounds, of course, were in the valleys.

Views from the mountain tops - the valleys below were totally socked in:




So I kept driving, trying to get accustomed to the fact that I should be in no particular hurry. The speed limit on the Parkway is 45. Much of the time I couldn’t even drive that fast because of the curves and slick roads and the fact that my old SUV is carrying the heaviest load it’s ever carried. It was strange to have the cloud cover so low. Every few minutes I would climb through the clouds into relative sunshine, then descend again into a valley and wet, chilly gloom.

Not much sense in stopping for the scenic views of the valleys below!:


I got off the Parkway, and stopped at a campground to check it out. I didn’t like it. Meant for RV’s, it was basically a parking lot with electric poles. I also drove by two hotels, and didn’t like those either. Back to the Parkway. I kept driving, hoping to get past the weather, but it followed me! Finally, I saw a sign saying, “The Blue Ridge Parkway Enters Virginia.” Virginia? I had no idea that I had driven that far. I had a very detailed topographical map of North Carolina, but no map of Virginia at all, so I decided to give up the campground search, head for the nearest big town in Virginia and check into a hotel.

As it turned out, I crawled into a Howard Johnson's in Roanoke at about 9 PM. I sat in the room and ate sliced fruit, sliced cajun turkey and giant Snyder's pretzels - mostly because those were the only things I could reach in my car without unpacking it.

All in all, it was a lousy day.

French Broad. River, that is...

During the late afternoon of Monday, May 4th, I arrived at the French Broad River Campground, just north of Asheville, North Carolina. It sounded like a more remote option than the KOA. I was glad I had decided to be sure there was daylight left. Setting up a new tent for the first time is always an adventure, and, of course, the “directions” were totally useless. After a few minutes of staring at it and walking around, I figured it out. It’s very light – too light for a bad storm, I think – but an ingenious design. Two sectioned graphite poles form a crossed arch beneath which the center dome of the tent is suspended. When the corners are secured by stakes, the result is a fairly comfortable shelter.

I tossed my sleeping bag inside, plugged in my extension cord and used my recently acquired hair dryer (thanks Elaine!) to blow up the air mattress, and then settled down to build a fire, eat and relax. I had decided not to grill a steak on this first night in a tent. I had no room in the car for another trip to the grocery store! So I opted for chicken salad pitas. The diced red onions I bought were potent – I’m fairly certain the smell of those alone would keep the bears away.

It had been so long since I sat by a campfire in the woods that I spent a few hours just watching and enjoying. A brief drizzle made me wonder if I was in for a miserable night (it had rained most of the day), but a few stars appeared. Then the moon broke through a hole in the clouds, and the river – just twenty feet away – was soon reflecting the narrow beam of silver light.

I had traveled 601 miles since Saturday afternoon, and I was now where I wanted to be – nowhere, for a few days, at least.

I thought I'd add a few visual aids...

My new tent on the banks of the French Broad:


I put Albert in the Rolling Rock chair to enjoy the view:


A video I shot that night, from my chair (it may take a minute to load):

Departure...

So the time arrived. Saturday, May 2nd at 4:30, I departed the Good Year Service Center on Main Street. I had gone there, at the last minute, after noticing how heavy the load in my SUV was, and how crappy my front tires were. In the interest of safety, and to ease the concern of loved ones, I spent an extra hour (and $252) in Gainesville. Then I drove up 441 to Alachua, and turned right on the northbound ramp of I-75.

My first stop was my sister's house in Alpharetta, Georgia (HERE). After a long process of packing, moving and good-byes, I was exhausted. I am here now, resting, and visiting with my sister and my two nieces. Tomorrow, I will head to North Carolina and the bottom of the Blue Ridge Parkway.

To my family and friends, I want you to know that I am moving farther away, but I am not leaving you. If you know me well, you know that I check my e-mail compulsively, and I am never without my cell phone. I am only a few hours away by plane, if you need me. I will ride my goddamn bike if I have to. I hope you know that, because I’m not sure I could survive if I thought you felt otherwise. Even now, I miss the many friendly faces that I have grown accustomed to seeing so frequently. I don’t want to lose you. I just want to find me.

I am anxious to find new challenges, to use my brain until it is as tired as my liver, to process new information on an hourly basis, to walk two blocks and be hopelessly lost instead of knowing exactly where I am. I am anxious to do something that makes a difference. Somehow. I am, at the very least, anxious to try.

I have been an emotional wreck, one minute near giddy delirium at the thought of the new experiences I hope to enjoy, the next minute wanting to curl up in an infantile ball in the corner and cry until I can't anymore - wondering how I can survive outside the town that has been home for my entire adult life.

Tomorrow, I assume I will end up in a campground near Asheville (HERE). I'm not yet sure where I will stay, although I am leaning toward the Asheville West KOA. They have free WiFi, and, as much as I am looking to escape from the stress for a few days, I'm not sure I'm ready to give up my internet access. We'll see.

I expect to relax, travel slowly, enjoy my free time as much as possible, and maybe even take a few photos that I will share with you. Wish me well. I love you all.