It does not matter that I want to stop, nor does it matter that I am scared. It does not matter that my wheal is out of true or that my breaks can’t stop me in the rain. It does not matter that my legs burn or that I have no food or water. There are more things, many more things that don’t matter. The dead box turtles don’t mater, the skunks that smell so badly don’t matter. The religion of the person extending kindness to me in a dire situation—need I say it. It does not matter, nor does the color of the hand giving me food. All of these things don’t matter.
The dogs that chase me and knock me over don’t matter, nor does their owner who has no sympathy for me. The storm warning, the lightning and thunder all don’t matter. At the end of a day the only thing that matters is how many rotations my peddles have made. It does not matter how they were made or by what means they were fueled. Just so long as they were made and I continue to make one rotation after another.
There is more that does not matter. The hot sun does not matter. The experienced rider telling me I can’t ride 130 miles in one day does not matter. On this trip there are few things that matter. I keep my focus on those things.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Day 9
Let the fun begin. I woke up early and got on my way. When I say early this time I mean really early. I was on the road by 6:30. I wanted to get to Breaks Interstate Park by nightfall. That would put me in shooting distance of my next Mennonite Your Way home. If I missed my mark, it would be extremely difficult to make it the next day. The problem with that is that after that I had 110 miles to Berea Kentucky, the significance of which was unparalleled by anything else in the trip to this point. The reason being that I would both finish map 2 and be at my brothers house. If I missed any of these marks I would be set back a day at least and then there would be little or no point in stopping by the Mennonite Your Way home because I would not be peddling a full days worth and that would slow me up to much.
I set off making good speed and then missed a turn. Just my luck. I got back on my rout only after about two miles of backtracking and then I was making good time again. Then it started to rain. I pulled over and sat down out of the rain and tried to stay warm. It only took about an hour to finish and for the roads to dry up. Then I was on my way again. Thought the day the dogs began to come out and chase me a little more. I could tell I was getting into coal country as well. Little black lumps of coal were lining the edges of the road giving me a clear idea that I was going to be running into big trucks. I finished my climb with little trouble. Again I new I was nearly done with all climbing worth mentioning. Then came the decent. I hit a rock, dead center. Both tires rolled over it while I was moving + 30 mph and my bike began to wobble all over the road. I slowed it down and gained control but then realized that I had popped my tire. Of course it had to be the back one. I pulled over to the side of the road and began preparing to fix it. Within moments a big old ford pickup truck pulled up and an old man who went by Big Foot stepped out and asked me if I was alright. I told him I was and he informed me that he just wanted to make sure I had everything I needed to path my tire. I don’t know what he would have done if I hadn’t, but it was a nice gesture. He then offered to give me a ride to the next gas station so I could fill my tire with air. Looking around I realized it was about to rain again so I decided the ride up the road would be a good idea. He loaded up my bike in the back of his truck and off we went. The old man began telling me many things about the place I was. He had lived there all his life, and had never left besides one two week vacation out to Colorado. His goal is to some day go to Montana. He told me of the streams and the danger they are in from the coal companies and the crude oil pipe lines that have been going in sense the energy boom a year or so ago. Pointing to the stream we were driving around and he said, “There used to be good trout fishing in that there stream, but its all filled up with sand sense they started in (the oil and coal companies).
Big Foot dropped me off at the gas station and thank Jesus there was a Subway there. So I got a good dinner on Mothers day. I finished up and it began raining. Not just sprinkling, but raining. I decided to go for it. It was late and if I it didn’t stop raining soon than I would be riding in the dark and the rain. So I rode as fast as I could. As soon as I got a way from any cover it began pouring. Sheets of rain came down on my head as if I was standing under a shower. It was cold rain to, there was no comfort in it…only misery. By the time I reached the top of the hill where the campground was I was visible shaking and the power was off in the campground. The ranger that saw me told me to go ahead and set up camp and take a warm shower and that he would come up and take care of the paper work later. I decided to call home first because I new I wouldn’t want to go out into the cold after I was warm. Every one was at grandpa and grandmas having a grand time eating a huge feast that I can’t even imagine. While I was still shaking people would say over the phone, “Boy you sound cold. Well talk to you later.” It was nice to talk to family, but I was ready to go and take a shower.
Thankfully the showers still worked and there was plenty of hot water. It was a dark shower, but one I was not ready to leave. Only the cold water that would eventually come from the faucet could drive me from that stall. I got dried off and set up camp before heading back to the bathroom to find a place to put my bike in out of the rain. While I was in the bathroom draping my clothing over my bike I noticed an electronic hand dryer on the wall. Exited I hurried over and hit the button on the front of it—but no luck, the power was still off. I weighted for nearly an hour until dark until the power came back on and then I spent over an hour standing there drying my cloths and getting ready for the next days ride. Even my shoes got dried. I was so exited. By the time my cloths were dry it was dark and I went to bed, cold, exhausted and feeling more than a little alone.
Today I rode 80.4 miles in 7:12 at an average speed of 11.14 mph with a max speed of 39 mph.
I set off making good speed and then missed a turn. Just my luck. I got back on my rout only after about two miles of backtracking and then I was making good time again. Then it started to rain. I pulled over and sat down out of the rain and tried to stay warm. It only took about an hour to finish and for the roads to dry up. Then I was on my way again. Thought the day the dogs began to come out and chase me a little more. I could tell I was getting into coal country as well. Little black lumps of coal were lining the edges of the road giving me a clear idea that I was going to be running into big trucks. I finished my climb with little trouble. Again I new I was nearly done with all climbing worth mentioning. Then came the decent. I hit a rock, dead center. Both tires rolled over it while I was moving + 30 mph and my bike began to wobble all over the road. I slowed it down and gained control but then realized that I had popped my tire. Of course it had to be the back one. I pulled over to the side of the road and began preparing to fix it. Within moments a big old ford pickup truck pulled up and an old man who went by Big Foot stepped out and asked me if I was alright. I told him I was and he informed me that he just wanted to make sure I had everything I needed to path my tire. I don’t know what he would have done if I hadn’t, but it was a nice gesture. He then offered to give me a ride to the next gas station so I could fill my tire with air. Looking around I realized it was about to rain again so I decided the ride up the road would be a good idea. He loaded up my bike in the back of his truck and off we went. The old man began telling me many things about the place I was. He had lived there all his life, and had never left besides one two week vacation out to Colorado. His goal is to some day go to Montana. He told me of the streams and the danger they are in from the coal companies and the crude oil pipe lines that have been going in sense the energy boom a year or so ago. Pointing to the stream we were driving around and he said, “There used to be good trout fishing in that there stream, but its all filled up with sand sense they started in (the oil and coal companies).
Big Foot dropped me off at the gas station and thank Jesus there was a Subway there. So I got a good dinner on Mothers day. I finished up and it began raining. Not just sprinkling, but raining. I decided to go for it. It was late and if I it didn’t stop raining soon than I would be riding in the dark and the rain. So I rode as fast as I could. As soon as I got a way from any cover it began pouring. Sheets of rain came down on my head as if I was standing under a shower. It was cold rain to, there was no comfort in it…only misery. By the time I reached the top of the hill where the campground was I was visible shaking and the power was off in the campground. The ranger that saw me told me to go ahead and set up camp and take a warm shower and that he would come up and take care of the paper work later. I decided to call home first because I new I wouldn’t want to go out into the cold after I was warm. Every one was at grandpa and grandmas having a grand time eating a huge feast that I can’t even imagine. While I was still shaking people would say over the phone, “Boy you sound cold. Well talk to you later.” It was nice to talk to family, but I was ready to go and take a shower.
Thankfully the showers still worked and there was plenty of hot water. It was a dark shower, but one I was not ready to leave. Only the cold water that would eventually come from the faucet could drive me from that stall. I got dried off and set up camp before heading back to the bathroom to find a place to put my bike in out of the rain. While I was in the bathroom draping my clothing over my bike I noticed an electronic hand dryer on the wall. Exited I hurried over and hit the button on the front of it—but no luck, the power was still off. I weighted for nearly an hour until dark until the power came back on and then I spent over an hour standing there drying my cloths and getting ready for the next days ride. Even my shoes got dried. I was so exited. By the time my cloths were dry it was dark and I went to bed, cold, exhausted and feeling more than a little alone.
Today I rode 80.4 miles in 7:12 at an average speed of 11.14 mph with a max speed of 39 mph.
Day 8
It rained during the night while I was sleeping. Not much, just enough to get everything damp. I had a towel to dry my stuff off with and then I decided to continue on my way. I was headed to Damascus VA and in between me and Damascus was my last major climb until the Rockies. There would be a few smaller ones after this, but this was the last real climb that would cause much physical exertion. I set off. It was a pleasant day to ride. There were a few clouds but mostly it was just sunny and warm. I began my assent and much to my surprise I was riding along a beautiful mountain stream most of the way that flowed crystal clear with a slight rush to it. It was not in to big a hurry, but still it didn’t lazily wonder its way through the hills as many streams on the eastern half of the country do.
I arrived in Damascus pretty early in the evening and the thought of going on was some what appealing, but in the end that little voice that said, “this coffee shop has free internet and a computer for you to use” won out and I sat around for a good few hours trying to converse with friends. Then a quick stop by the store for some more food and off I went to the next camp ground. It was simply delightful. I was camping right along a river that reminded me of the Applegate River back home. It was clear, deep and moving along at a good pace. There were also rocks along it, not small ones, but huge boulders and cliffs. It was simply amazing to sleep only feet a way from it. I found a little grassy patch under a big fur tree and pitched my tent.
Later that night I went and made a few phone calls to mom and Natasha (my contact for Mennonite Your Way homes) and then I went to bead. Over all it was a splendid day with little or no hardships. In fact it was so easy I made the mistake of thinking to myself, “waw, I haven’t even popped a tier yet.”
It was another short day. I rode 67.5 miles at 12 mph. It took me 5:37 with a max speed of 36.6 mph.
I arrived in Damascus pretty early in the evening and the thought of going on was some what appealing, but in the end that little voice that said, “this coffee shop has free internet and a computer for you to use” won out and I sat around for a good few hours trying to converse with friends. Then a quick stop by the store for some more food and off I went to the next camp ground. It was simply delightful. I was camping right along a river that reminded me of the Applegate River back home. It was clear, deep and moving along at a good pace. There were also rocks along it, not small ones, but huge boulders and cliffs. It was simply amazing to sleep only feet a way from it. I found a little grassy patch under a big fur tree and pitched my tent.
Later that night I went and made a few phone calls to mom and Natasha (my contact for Mennonite Your Way homes) and then I went to bead. Over all it was a splendid day with little or no hardships. In fact it was so easy I made the mistake of thinking to myself, “waw, I haven’t even popped a tier yet.”
It was another short day. I rode 67.5 miles at 12 mph. It took me 5:37 with a max speed of 36.6 mph.
Day 7
Day 7
Day seven was a nice day. I woke up at about 8:00 and got to make my own breakfast, my own warm breakfast in a kitchen. It was simply wonderful. I made an omelet, one of my favorite breakfasts. Then I hung around for the morning with Kaitlin, Kendra, and Absalom. It was a good day for riding. It had rained the night before so the air was nice and crisp and it was not to hot. Little did I know heat would be the least of my concerns the next few days. I didn’t end up taking off until 1:30 pm. It was a lazy day and I needed it after my last two days of hard riding with little rest. I began after lunch and after Kendra gave me the stuff to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for the road. Then I was off. I rode until it was nearly dark. I was glad to find my camp ground because a cold weather front was moving in and I was beginning to get very cold.
Today also marked the beginning of something besides being cold for me, it was the first time I was chased by a dog. Something I didn’t mind because it was only one. I had no idea what I was headed for.
I rode 61.8 miles from Christiansburg to Wytheville on day 7 at 10.72 mph and I rode for 5:45, not my fastest time. My max speed was 34 mph.
Day seven was a nice day. I woke up at about 8:00 and got to make my own breakfast, my own warm breakfast in a kitchen. It was simply wonderful. I made an omelet, one of my favorite breakfasts. Then I hung around for the morning with Kaitlin, Kendra, and Absalom. It was a good day for riding. It had rained the night before so the air was nice and crisp and it was not to hot. Little did I know heat would be the least of my concerns the next few days. I didn’t end up taking off until 1:30 pm. It was a lazy day and I needed it after my last two days of hard riding with little rest. I began after lunch and after Kendra gave me the stuff to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for the road. Then I was off. I rode until it was nearly dark. I was glad to find my camp ground because a cold weather front was moving in and I was beginning to get very cold.
Today also marked the beginning of something besides being cold for me, it was the first time I was chased by a dog. Something I didn’t mind because it was only one. I had no idea what I was headed for.
I rode 61.8 miles from Christiansburg to Wytheville on day 7 at 10.72 mph and I rode for 5:45, not my fastest time. My max speed was 34 mph.
Day 6
Day 6
I woke up and believe it or not I really didn’t want to go anywhere. I wanted to just lay there in my sleeping bag listening to the calm river flow by, but I had a long ways to go on day six so I needed to pick up and move out. I ate a quick cold breakfast and packed up camp before moving out. I was in Lexington VA headed to Christiansburg VA. This, if I made the full trip today would not only put me in a Mennonite Your Way home, but be the end of my first map, a mile stone in my cross country bike trip. Both of those things were enough to motivate me to move out with a little speed under my tail, even though my legs burned from the tough ride the day before.
It was a long day, about 90 miles over all. I stopped in Buchanan VA to use the internet and was informed that I was crazy for thinking that I was going to make it all the way to Christiansburg by nightfall. The librarian meant well, but she wasn’t helping. Actually she probably helped more than I am giving her credit. Had she said I could make it I probably wouldn’t have peddled so hard.
The day was beautiful, a few clouds and a nice slight breeze. It was very hilly most of the way. I even took a shortcut in order to speed up my time. It worked. I eventually came to a little store in the country and tiered as I was I stopped to fill my water bottles and ask how far I had to go. The woman told me I had 17 miles to go. 33 miles later I reached Christiansburg. I don’t understand how you can be off almost half the distance like that. I guess I would understand if it was a half a mile or if she was five miles off at 33 miles, but as I see things, that was like saying, “Oh, its about 17 miles--give or take--17.” At this point I decided to quit asking people who drove cars for information about distance or terrain. I just didn’t want to be so misled any more.
I finally made it to Christiansburg and called the family I was going to stay with for the night. The daughter Kaitlin answered the phone and gave me directions to their house. Before she hung up the phone she said, “boy, you have some hills to climb.” Yet another affirming word of encouragement. I made the four or five miles out to the home of Conrad and Janie Heatwole and was kindly welcomed by all the members of the family that were home (Kaitlin, Kendra, and a son in law Absalom).
My host family for the night was simply amazing. Kaitlin drove me to the store to get more food for the next day and Janie gave me a cell phone to call all of my family and friends. They also provided internet for me to continue to schedule homes for me to stay in and check the weather. Then after all of that they invited me to play Settlers with the family until way later than I have been staying up on my trip. I must say by the end of it I felt like I was going to fall over. I was so tiered. I eventually limped off to bead. But I didn’t want to. It felt so good to be part of a community, even if it wasn’t mine. To be accepted into a home and treated like some one who belongs there is an amazing and powerful thing when you are alone. I must say, the next day when it came time to leave I didn’t want to go. But the road was calling and I never did do well sitting in one place to long.
I woke up and believe it or not I really didn’t want to go anywhere. I wanted to just lay there in my sleeping bag listening to the calm river flow by, but I had a long ways to go on day six so I needed to pick up and move out. I ate a quick cold breakfast and packed up camp before moving out. I was in Lexington VA headed to Christiansburg VA. This, if I made the full trip today would not only put me in a Mennonite Your Way home, but be the end of my first map, a mile stone in my cross country bike trip. Both of those things were enough to motivate me to move out with a little speed under my tail, even though my legs burned from the tough ride the day before.
It was a long day, about 90 miles over all. I stopped in Buchanan VA to use the internet and was informed that I was crazy for thinking that I was going to make it all the way to Christiansburg by nightfall. The librarian meant well, but she wasn’t helping. Actually she probably helped more than I am giving her credit. Had she said I could make it I probably wouldn’t have peddled so hard.
The day was beautiful, a few clouds and a nice slight breeze. It was very hilly most of the way. I even took a shortcut in order to speed up my time. It worked. I eventually came to a little store in the country and tiered as I was I stopped to fill my water bottles and ask how far I had to go. The woman told me I had 17 miles to go. 33 miles later I reached Christiansburg. I don’t understand how you can be off almost half the distance like that. I guess I would understand if it was a half a mile or if she was five miles off at 33 miles, but as I see things, that was like saying, “Oh, its about 17 miles--give or take--17.” At this point I decided to quit asking people who drove cars for information about distance or terrain. I just didn’t want to be so misled any more.
I finally made it to Christiansburg and called the family I was going to stay with for the night. The daughter Kaitlin answered the phone and gave me directions to their house. Before she hung up the phone she said, “boy, you have some hills to climb.” Yet another affirming word of encouragement. I made the four or five miles out to the home of Conrad and Janie Heatwole and was kindly welcomed by all the members of the family that were home (Kaitlin, Kendra, and a son in law Absalom).
My host family for the night was simply amazing. Kaitlin drove me to the store to get more food for the next day and Janie gave me a cell phone to call all of my family and friends. They also provided internet for me to continue to schedule homes for me to stay in and check the weather. Then after all of that they invited me to play Settlers with the family until way later than I have been staying up on my trip. I must say by the end of it I felt like I was going to fall over. I was so tiered. I eventually limped off to bead. But I didn’t want to. It felt so good to be part of a community, even if it wasn’t mine. To be accepted into a home and treated like some one who belongs there is an amazing and powerful thing when you are alone. I must say, the next day when it came time to leave I didn’t want to go. But the road was calling and I never did do well sitting in one place to long.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Day 5
Day 5
The day started early because I was kind of scared of being caught as I didn’t have permission to sleep behind the church. I didn’t think any one would care as I didn’t do anything damaging in any way, but still, I feel its just better for no one to know you are there when you are trespassing as that way you are sure to avoid all problems. I got up and ate my cold breakfast and then headed out. The day started with more climbing than I was used to and my maps showed that I was in for a long hard day. When I woke up I checked my GPS and it said I was at 722 ft elevation. I started climbing into the Blue Mountains and decided I would stop at the little town at the foot of the mountains in order to restock on food and water.
There was nothing in the town, just a post office with bad drinking water. It was not looking like a good day. I was about to leave and attempt the suicidal climb with a half bottle of water when one of the women behind the counter said, “try the cookie lady, she is biker friendly.” I was a bit concerned to say the least, but I gave it a go. So off I went in search for the cookie lady. I wasn’t ready for what I found. She was an old woman with no remaining family and a hear bigger than anyone I new. She lost her mother, her last remaining family member in 1976, the same year the bike trail was planed. It ran right past her house, so she began taking in bikers. She told me that because she has no family, bikers were her family now. She gave me the keys to the bike house and told me to look around and to put the photo she had taken of me (she had an old Polaroid camera) in the photo album on the table. I was shocked when I went in. she had 16 photo albums with photos of every biker who has stopped by her house sense 1976. On the walls of the house she had every post card, newspaper clipping and letter that every biker has ever sent her. There were wedding photos and photos of peoples children on there graduation day. She really had become part of these peoples family. The house ended up being fully furnished with all the food a biker could ask for as well as several bedrooms and couches. It was amazing. I took what I needed and then locked it up before heading back to the old woman’s house to say good by. We talked for a while and she told me some of the amazing stories of bikers that had come through the pass over the Blue Mountains. I was amazed to put it lightly.
Setting off over the Blue Mountains was the hardest thing I have done to date on a bike. It was no easy climb. By 1:00 that afternoon I had climbed to an elevation that exceeded 3250 ft. Now remember that I had started at 722 ft that morning.
I stopped at the ranger station on the mountain and asked how many more inclines I had until I reached Vesuvious, the town I was going to descend to on the other side of the mountain range and he said, “oh, about two more.” Six inclines later I finally reached SR 59 and began my descent. That was the low point in the trip. With each passing incline my heart sank a little more. I ran out of food and nearly out of water on that mountain. I was very lonely and wanted nothing more than to be with my friends. But I was very alone and had no idea how far it was until I would reach my destination for the night. I pushed on and finally made it. I got down the mountain to Vesuvious and there was nothing there ether, just a post office, but this time with drinkable water. I asked the man how far it was to Lexington VA and he said 33 miles. I was very skeptical, but I had no choice so I took off as fast as I could.
I made it to Lexington and found a place to eat and a store to get more food for the next day which was promising to be as hard as the day that I had just finished. I then began looking for a place to sleep. I found a little park and began looking to see if I could sleep there that night. There was a state police officer there so I asked him if I could sleep there. He called headquarters and asked them and they sent two more police officers to check it out. Then they said, “NO”. The state cop got eratated and said, “just put your bike in my car.” I was a bit confused until the other police officers asked me what he was going to do with me. He said he had a place for me to sleep and he was going to take me there. I couldn’t believe it. He took me to his in-laws farm and let me sleep in their pasture next to a river. It was simply splendid. I got to sleep right along a river that was nice and clean. He told me it was safe to swim in and that I could bath in it if I wanted to. I did. It was simply a wonderful way to end a hard and trying day. That night I slept very soundly.
Over all I rode 73.5 miles at 9.6 mph from Whitehall VA to Lexington VA. I rode for 7:38 with a max speed of 34.5 mph.
The day started early because I was kind of scared of being caught as I didn’t have permission to sleep behind the church. I didn’t think any one would care as I didn’t do anything damaging in any way, but still, I feel its just better for no one to know you are there when you are trespassing as that way you are sure to avoid all problems. I got up and ate my cold breakfast and then headed out. The day started with more climbing than I was used to and my maps showed that I was in for a long hard day. When I woke up I checked my GPS and it said I was at 722 ft elevation. I started climbing into the Blue Mountains and decided I would stop at the little town at the foot of the mountains in order to restock on food and water.
There was nothing in the town, just a post office with bad drinking water. It was not looking like a good day. I was about to leave and attempt the suicidal climb with a half bottle of water when one of the women behind the counter said, “try the cookie lady, she is biker friendly.” I was a bit concerned to say the least, but I gave it a go. So off I went in search for the cookie lady. I wasn’t ready for what I found. She was an old woman with no remaining family and a hear bigger than anyone I new. She lost her mother, her last remaining family member in 1976, the same year the bike trail was planed. It ran right past her house, so she began taking in bikers. She told me that because she has no family, bikers were her family now. She gave me the keys to the bike house and told me to look around and to put the photo she had taken of me (she had an old Polaroid camera) in the photo album on the table. I was shocked when I went in. she had 16 photo albums with photos of every biker who has stopped by her house sense 1976. On the walls of the house she had every post card, newspaper clipping and letter that every biker has ever sent her. There were wedding photos and photos of peoples children on there graduation day. She really had become part of these peoples family. The house ended up being fully furnished with all the food a biker could ask for as well as several bedrooms and couches. It was amazing. I took what I needed and then locked it up before heading back to the old woman’s house to say good by. We talked for a while and she told me some of the amazing stories of bikers that had come through the pass over the Blue Mountains. I was amazed to put it lightly.
Setting off over the Blue Mountains was the hardest thing I have done to date on a bike. It was no easy climb. By 1:00 that afternoon I had climbed to an elevation that exceeded 3250 ft. Now remember that I had started at 722 ft that morning.
I stopped at the ranger station on the mountain and asked how many more inclines I had until I reached Vesuvious, the town I was going to descend to on the other side of the mountain range and he said, “oh, about two more.” Six inclines later I finally reached SR 59 and began my descent. That was the low point in the trip. With each passing incline my heart sank a little more. I ran out of food and nearly out of water on that mountain. I was very lonely and wanted nothing more than to be with my friends. But I was very alone and had no idea how far it was until I would reach my destination for the night. I pushed on and finally made it. I got down the mountain to Vesuvious and there was nothing there ether, just a post office, but this time with drinkable water. I asked the man how far it was to Lexington VA and he said 33 miles. I was very skeptical, but I had no choice so I took off as fast as I could.
I made it to Lexington and found a place to eat and a store to get more food for the next day which was promising to be as hard as the day that I had just finished. I then began looking for a place to sleep. I found a little park and began looking to see if I could sleep there that night. There was a state police officer there so I asked him if I could sleep there. He called headquarters and asked them and they sent two more police officers to check it out. Then they said, “NO”. The state cop got eratated and said, “just put your bike in my car.” I was a bit confused until the other police officers asked me what he was going to do with me. He said he had a place for me to sleep and he was going to take me there. I couldn’t believe it. He took me to his in-laws farm and let me sleep in their pasture next to a river. It was simply splendid. I got to sleep right along a river that was nice and clean. He told me it was safe to swim in and that I could bath in it if I wanted to. I did. It was simply a wonderful way to end a hard and trying day. That night I slept very soundly.
Over all I rode 73.5 miles at 9.6 mph from Whitehall VA to Lexington VA. I rode for 7:38 with a max speed of 34.5 mph.
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