What was it that Virginia is for?

Last night I wrote a lengthy and probably needlessly wordy update about how we came to Virginia (Suffolk, to be exact) , how I was chased by a dog who followed me at 25 mph, how the temperature is changing so quickly and suddenly, and lots of stuff about me that you probably don't want to know, or already do know, depending on who you are. I tend to forget that people are actually reading this thing. Regardless, it's gone. The great Blog in the sky, the Blog Hole, or maybe the Blogfather has claimed my entry and banished it to the Netherworlds of mediocre writings.

Maybe it's for the best. We took Sunday off and I spent the majority of the day sleeping, catching up on phone calls, and tuning up ol' Midnight, who's developed a creak in her cranks (earning the new name of Ol' Cranky) something I've hopefully cured. I can't tell you how good it feels to have a well-tuned bike, especially after riding in grit, sand and rain for days. It's like brand new underwear.

We spent the night at the home of another fellow bicyclist and former navy Seal, who caught wind of our arrival through the owner of the bike shop we tuned up in. He's an experienced tour cyclist, and it was great to hear his stories and get his take on the road, especially considering that he chose to do the Trans-American route alone. Everyone I've met who's also been on the road seems to have a different take on how they move, and what the best approaches are, but they all seem to have a similar attitude about what's found, and that generally involves the human contact that's made, how it opens things up a bit. I've had a few people tell me this before I left, but I really had no idea what they were saying. It's almost as if I've discovered and become a part of some sub-culture; a cult with no firm structure or governing head, a true commune of sorts. I already feel the need to extend the same kindness and generosity when I'm back in Milwaukee.

My red white and blue color scheme is finally coming into it's own

as we move further north.

 

5:30pm

Alright, we just rolled into Williamsburg, and for the first time had a taste of the rollers (hills) that will be our nemesis and friend for the remainder of the trip. Everything has been pretty flat so far, but that'll change drastically as we move North. It was great to take a day off, and the chance to tune up makes the ride so much more fun, all the strange noises and creaks now minimalized or gone completely.

Our options are opening up more as we move, in correlation to our attitudes, which have all changed drastically as we continue on. Jeff, who was bound and determined to do 90 miles a day with no breaks at all, has become relaxed and easy going, flexible in scheduling and routing. George, on the other hand, was a wanderer at first, taking his time with everything, in no hurry at all, and now is looking for the quickest route, determined to rise early and hit the road while I'm still waking up. I'm not sure how I've changed, exactly, the others might be able to tell you. You can only analyze your own evolution correctly in hindsight, I've found. I can say that I am aware of something. I feel calm. Or maybe that's just exhaustion.

So, the options? We've pretty much decided that Niagara Falls will be our final destination, and now have only to determine an exact route. If we stick to the original plan (or rather the 3rd original plan), we'll continue on to the Western side of New York and then head West, which'll take around 2 1/2 weeks. Another option which was brought up would be to head to the Falls directly out of DC, which would probably cut that time in half. George seems up for option #2, but I'm not sure if he understands the pain involved in climbing the hills on that path, since we'd be going directly through Pennsylvania. It looks shorter on paper, but we might end up climbing all day at 7mph.

I'm open to either path, having decided long ago that my plan is to enjoy each day as it comes. The idea of being home soon brings a bit of comfort, and I miss my family and friends, but when we were talking about it earlier I felt my heart sink a little. I'm getting used to living like this, and although I'm completely aware that I have to come home at some point, the idea of getting back to my regular routine seems as intimidating as this trip did before I left.