Getting the hang of it.

It was a beautiful morning outside on Steve's field but it was time to go so we took down our tents and begrudgingly prepped the bikes for another day forward. We did manage to find a wireless connection so I put up a blog post and the rest of the crew checked email and such. It's astounding where you can find wireless internet.

Then we moseyed over to the other side of the street and to the town's grocery store. We made fine conversation with the ladies at the counter, and eventually with a few people outside, but not without sort of a pre-expedition. We asked to use the bathroom and we were told sure but the next step was finding it. You had to wind back to the corner of the cinder block building and go through a door marked “Bathroom out of service.” and then you were in some sort of barn. That room was dusty and filled with pallets of old merchandise. Then you took a few steps further and the bathroom was its own cinder block room within the larger barn antechamber. Wild.

We ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches outside the store and then began riding for the day. Pushed out two major climbs before noon – it always feels good to get those out of the way. The elevation profile on our maps can be deceiving. Ten miles of riding gets condensed to about an inch of paper so terrain gets hidden in the compression. Luckily we were treated to a pleasant surprise as a dreaded climb turned out to be not so bad, ascending in steps with plateaus in between.

We got about 24 miles in and did a routine stop at a grocery store before really starting to set the road ablaze. We took pulls off the front and held around 23. I think dry shrubs caught fire as we road past. It lifts your spirits to punch out a section like that because you know you're rolling off a lot more mileage a lot faster than on a climb.

But soon we were climbing again, this time on a wide three lane highway. That was a nice change of pace. You feel like the mountains are opening up a little bit, that you finally get to breathe as opposed to constantly be tucked into little gullies. In Kentucky, people honk at you. At first I thought it was malice but it's drivers encouraging you mostly. Nobody did that in Virginia. The leaves are changing already.

Then it got hot. Real hot. Damn hot. We started to see some of the mountain top removal for coal mining, entire peaks just sort of lopped off. “What's wrong with this hill? Why didn't they shave the top off the hill I'm riding on?” At the top of yet another climb we made it to a giant shopping complex with a Wal Mart Supercenter. I went in to get a few things and I should have taken my bike with me. That place is cavernous. It took me about 45 minutes to walk from the toiletries to the granola bars. And all click-clacking like some ridiculous bike cowboy in my cycling shoes. You can get lost in there.

I met Jordan, Adam, and Jeremy over at Arby's where they were waiting for me to finish shopping. Jordan and Jeremy had both downed a few burgers while I was getting soap, a few meant three for Jordan. And curly fries. He said that choice hurt him later. We rode by a small abandoned water park. Totally cool. Then we rode by a house with multiple confederate flags and Nazi banners hanging inside their house. And vicious dogs held by chains on a railroad spike. While going up hill. Oh how we prayed for those chains to hold. Less cool.

The elevation profile betrayed us with a smile yet again as we were at the Buckhorn campground before we even knew it. We were expecting a last push to the top and suddenly we were in the parking lot. Righteous. We took showers and felt spectacular, washed our clothes at the campground laundromat and felt even better, and got there shy of six o'clock. Hours of daylight to relax in? And no rain? What? You say what? Good day.

There's an abandoned house on Steve's field. We look for things to lean the bikes against.

For those skateboarding enthusiasts among us.

Up Pippa Passes. I think.

Pushing.