It's always the first day...

Where to begin... We woke up at Jessica's house to good weather, sunny even. She had suggested that we could postpone our departure by a day if need be, and we had considered it, but really wanted to start if the weather was good enough. So we took a picture and said goodbye and began the bicycle tour.

We rode fifteen miles to Yorktown and began the very first panel of the Adventure Cycling maps. Before arriving alongside the York River, Jeremy took a pee break on the side of the road. In full view of a variety of passing traffic. One of whom was a sherriff. He wagged his finger but no arrests were made.

Then it was onto Colonial Williamsburg where we stood out like sore thumbs among school groups on field trips and families on vacation. But the buildings were interesting and worth the short cruise by, even if I heard a historical reenactor talking about soft serve. I am mildly sure the early American colonies did not have ice cream that came from a metal, electric dispenser.

And then the rain started. The pannier covers came out and were cinched around our various bags. And we left Williamsburg and the rain subsided a bit and it all seemed like a false alarm. And then it started to rain again. Well, that was OK – we went fourty miles in fine weather. And then it started to rain so hard you could barely see. It was difficult to even look in front of you through the deluge of water. You couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous it was. It was less laughable for the next 40 miles or so of continued rain. Actually, it wasn't so bad eventually. I think we all got used to it.

What was harder to get used to was the miscalculation in distance that meant we had about 34 miles more than we had planned.

We arrived in a place called Mechanicsville around 8:15 to a sight that lifted the collective spirits, a large shopping center with a Panera Bread. Several of us had two entrees. We got back outside after the meal and put on the lights, and the cycling pants, and the headlamps for about twenty miles of rural Virginia riding. Got lost a few times. We rode past a tremendously scary church in the pitch black. It was a memorial site and only consisted of white framing for the windows and rough structure of the building, lit by low fixtures. The framing pieces seemed to hang in midair. Frightening. Then we joked about revolutionary war ghosts. Don't know if that put anyone at ease or not.

We finally arrived in Ashland, VA sometime after 11 o'clock. We were received by a really nice guy named Bruce. Went inside, took showers, and went to sleep as soon as possible afterward. 34 miles more than what eh? We had planned for 90 and rode 123.89 miles. Ridiculous. But it really was beautiful country even if we hallucinated from exhaustion through much of it.

Hopefully that was the universe testing us before a slew of easier days.

Jessica and crew.

The York River.

Adam getting historic.

Jeremy explores his colonial past.

Hmm. That doesn't look good.

Pressing on.

Soaked.