Day Nine: Rain Rain Go Away

Distance: ~46 miles — no GPS to gauge back roads :-/

Song of the Day: Heart — Barracuda

7:30AM: Troubled sleep through noisy rain, babbled to Lizzie late into the night, conning her to feel less anxious about raging thunderstorm and gal of windy rain pelting tent sides. Llamas (you heard right) became uncanny prophets of nastiest gales, collective braying came before each rowdy bluster.

Prior night’s deliberation enabled a harefooted decision to pack and scamper out. Chincoteague bridges are insanely narrow and teetering down microscopic shoulder next to racing cars over rainy pebbles were judged recipes for disaster. Rain in fact died down at 8AM so we got the hell off the island.

Lizzie saying “Thank you, Cailin, the tent you lent us was rock solid in the rain!”

Escape the bridge! Only a few cars pass us and none bothersome. Drift off route to NASA visitor’s center on Wallops Island for breakfast. Early bird employees say hullo as we cook-em-up oatmeal w/ nutella, peanut butter and coffee. NASA exhibits very appealing, especially as it is Earth and Science Day, but who has time? We admire rockets planted beside parking lot and hit pavement.

Impossible to get Google Maps to depict the precise route. In actuality we took 679 for the first stint after Wallops.

175 to 679 threaded into thin tree-crested backroads, occasionally breaks into open farmland. Only a handful of cars pass, which is a good thing because there ain’t room for two on these “Virginia Slims”. Approach a fork and decide to try 13 — thus heeding state patrolman’s reluctant advice from ice cream parlor, he said it was “busy” but had good shoulder. Bad choice — woosh of trucks rattled us around on ever thinning band of tar beyond rumblestripped shoulder. Tar is choppy and rocky with debris and intrusions of soft grass and sand. Pull off first chance we get, alas too late as I’ve picked up a flat :/ Investigate, find impacted staple from staple gun. Repair takes 25 minutes as there’s nowhere to lean bikes and it’s raining and cold. Lizzie hustles me back on road dissuading my dreams of lubricating chains and cleaning disc brakes — she does this simply by biking away from me, very amusing — off we hoof another 16 miles to a diner in Onley.

The back roads in Virginia are truly spectacular. One minute shady, winding streets corral us through magical pines and maples, next minute early stage corn fields and staring horses are upon you. Lizzie keeps saying out loud, “Wow!” “This road! This tree!” “Look at that horse!” But we’ve also never seen so many No Trespassing / Private Property signs. What sorts of trespassers are these people so terribly worked up about, deep in the woods? Your fears are not real.

I tried coaxing one of the horses but it didn’t trust me.

Beautiful wisteria (correction by Joyce Stone)

2PM: Onley teensy but features a coffee shop and diner, we traverse in that order but opt for diner first and loop back for eventual coffee. Chat with diner locals nets us more tips about roads; our waitress has a grandfather who operates farm near Cape Charles, phones him on cigarette break (completely unprompted — people are incredible) and gets the latest “farmers almanac” weather report. She also brought me a heaping plate of beets. Lizzie heads to WalMart for restocking of the Nutella/PB where she encounters no one interested in why she’s wearing a bicycle helmet while shopping for groceries.

Art in Crossroads cafe in Onley is on topic

Incredible old safe from coffeehouse, which must have been refurbished from old bank. Beautiful tin roof in better condition than most in Brooklyn.

3:30PM: Liz and I concurrently experience fatigue after 30 miles, no particular ailment but a general exhaustion and slowness. See sign for Cape Charles — 32 miles to go. I make final plea to Lizzie to give it a shot, tempting her with seafood dinner. No dice. Pull into a Holiday Inn and take the night off.

Lizzie calls a state-sponsored hotline, talks to trooper whose apparent odd job is fielding ad hoc requests to cross the Chesapeake Bridge which is closed to bikers, hikers, or whatever other non-leadfoots I can’t categorize. Arranges a ride at 1PM — “wait behind the building next to tollbooth and someone will pick you up”, seems legit — leaving enough time to barbarize the included breakfast at Holiday Inn and spend a couple hours in Cape Charles.

Sleep will come easier knowing we’ll see Paul and Donna Chin for dinner (that’s “noor-fuk” for you northeners)!

By the way — if you never need to ice a part of your body, write a blog post. Twenty minutes will pass in no time, and if your body resembles mine (ankle in my case) it will thank you!