A year ago today I began a journey that would take 68 days covering 4,375 miles from the Pacific coast to the Atlantic coast.

Today, I am 257 days into my 360 Active Days challenge and have only taken two days off. One of those days was April 4^th, two days before my first marathon. The second was a week ago, May 14^th, for surgery to have a 13cm long fibroid removed from my abdomen. It was large enough that I could feel it at times while riding last year, and I am more than glad to have it gone.

Mom came to visit (she’s still here!) to help me out during my recovery, and I’m incredibly grateful. The first few days especially, I was in need of a lot of help. And she saw to it that I ate something other than pasta, which is probably all I would have had the energy to prepare for myself if I had been on my own.

For a few days I was incredibly sleepy. And for another one or two after that I had to use my arms to get from a prone position to a seated one because using my abs was very painful. My lungs were also not pleased, an unfortunate occurrence made worse because the healing incision in my abdomen meant that it hurt to cough.

A week later and I can say that things are getting significantly better.

A few weeks ago, I purchased a small under-desk elliptical machine. I intend to take it to work so that I can keep moving a bit while sitting at my desk grading papers, preparing lessons, and engaging in all the other seated activities that come with being a community college professor. The bonus is that I had a way to keep my legs moving as I recovered from my surgery.

I’m still not supposed to be lifting anything heavier than 10lbs or engaging in any vigorous exercise, but I’m hopeful those restrictions will be relaxed in my post-operative check up visit next week. In the meantime, I’ll keep up with the walking and the elliptical.

And, with this behind me, I can start thinking about what I want my next adventure to be.

I’m still open for other ideas, but I’m considering section-hiking the Appalachian Trail and starting out with going as far as 6-8 weeks can take me. The other thought is to do another of the Adventure Cycling Association routes, possibly the Pacific Coast or the Atlantic Coast trails.

I’ve got plenty of time left to decide and train once I recover.

Overview

Friday Weights: Back and Biceps
Saturday Tang Soo Do
Sunday Weights: Legs
Monday Tang Soo Do
Tuesday Weights: Chest and Triceps; Spin Class
Wednesday Weights: Legs
Thursday Weights: Back and Biceps; Tang Soo Do

A week ago Friday I began my birthday resolution project of 360 active days over the next year. (Five days off for illness and those random things that life throws at you sometimes, in case you were wondering.) As with all new things, there was a significant dose of excitement for the start of something new, but that doesn’t mean everything was easy.

Day 1, Friday, was scheduled to be a busy day. I had to drive 2.5 hours, have a 4-hour meeting, then return home 2.5 hours. Then in the evening I had a chiropractor appointment. There are times when the chiropractic adjustment leaves me feeling slightly off for a bit, so when possible I prefer to get the workout in before the appointment. That would mean an early morning workout. Okay, I could do that. I hate early mornings, but for day 1, I would do it.

I set my alarm and dutifully woke up. To rain. I hate riding my bike in the rain. I’ll do it for a trip home, but I’d rather not arrive to my workout already soaked. I could drive, but my gym is only a mile away. Not only do I feel ridiculous driving a mile but there’s almost a complete absence of street parking. There is a parking garage, but validation only reduces the price and I have a difficult time with the idea of paying for parking on top of paying for a membership. The gym doesn’t own the parking garage, so I don’t blame them, but that doesn’t negate the previous statement.

Getting 36 off to a good start! It was too early for smiles, though.

Time for a change of plans. A quick internet search found another branch of my gym right off the route to the meeting, so instead of working out, coming home to clean up, then heading to the meeting, I worked out on my way to the meeting.

I ended up being late to the meeting, not because of the workout itself, but because I was so exhausted that I had to pull over for about 20 minutes. The same thing happened on the way home. Clearly I need to work on my sleep issues.

Foam rolling and stretching is important!

I worked on adopting some better sleep hygiene habits over the course of the week. Electronics off at least an hour before bed. I wasn’t perfect at this, but I was better than I have been. I also decided to cut out alcohol for a while, at least until I’ve got a better idea of the toll this project will take on me.

It seemed to work. I still had a few moments of wanting to crash in the middle of the day, but for the last few days I’ve been dragging less in the mornings. As a bonus, I’ve also been less reliant on coffee. And that happened without me even intending it to. I just realized yesterday that I had only had 2 cups of coffee all day.

All in all, it’s been a good first week. 7 days down, 353 days left to go!

I spent a lot of time in the do jang and the gym this week.

“What are you going to do next?”

I expect most people meant that to mean what big adventure will I set my sights on next. It’s a good question and one I’m not sure of the answer to. The Appalachian Trail is definitely something I’d love to experience, but given my summer time constraints I’d have to split it up into at least two summers. And I don’t think I want to do a major trip every summer. Maybe every two or three years I might, but not every single one.

The highest point of the Trans America Bicycle Trail. It was not all downhill from there.

Even if I’m not going to undertake some epic journey next summer, I did find myself wanting to do something. When I returned to work to get ready for the semester, I was in what was possibly the best mental health place I’ve been in a long time, and I credit my ride. That and having an extra two weeks after finishing the ride before starting work.

But it’s so easy for me to just slip back into routines. Left to my own devices, I tend to be a night owl. When that conflicts with the need to get up early, I often end up going to bed late, getting up early, and going through the day like a grumpy zombie. Occasionally it gets to the point where I have to take a nap instead of doing whatever workout I had planned because I’m so tired that the healthiest thing I can do is sleep.

I don’t want that. I want to hold on to how I felt physically and mentally when I was riding every day. I may not be able to devote 8 hours to a ride every day any more, but that doesn’t mean I can’t strive for more consistency in my activity schedule. Pair that with the approach of my 36^th birthday and an idea was born.

360 Active Days

The plan: be active 360 days in the next year.

That’s insane, you might be thinking. You need recovery days or it won’t be sustainable. Don’t worry. I may be a bit ambitious here, but I am striving for sustainability, and “active” doesn’t have to mean “intense.”

To be an Active Day, I will do at least one of the following

• 30 minutes or more of cardio. This could include running, cycling, swimming, martial arts, or any other aerobic athletic The word athletic is important. Housework, even if it is aerobic at times, does not count. I want this to be activities beyond those necessary to keep my house in order.
• Weight lifting or bodyweight training session. Here I mean more than a set of pushups. The workout should contain at least 3 sets of at least 6 exercises.
• 10,000 steps. And this is where I’m working in recovery days. I know this number was originally picked somewhat arbitrarily, but I think it works. On a normal day without a workout, I am unlikely to hit this number without taking a walk, so it’s high enough to force an effort. On the other hand, taking 10,000 steps takes much longer than a 30 minute bike ride or a weightlifting session, so I’ll be motivated to do the other activities when possible so as to not waste time I could spend on something else.

Getting 36 off to a good start! It was too early for smiles, though.

What do I hope to gain?

Many people, including myself, pick specific athletic goals or events to prepare for. Riding a bike across the country, running a marathon, being able to swim 100 laps of a pool in an hour, being able to walk 3 miles. That’s a great motivation and it gives you a clear goal to strive for and it works for a lot of people.

The thing is, I have a habit of lapsing after the goal is over unless there is another goal right in front of me. Oh, I raced my 5K. Good for me. Time to take a week off from running. Not that I let myself get to the point that the average person would call me out of shape, but I don’t consistently build off my achievements without at least some regression. For example, although I’ve been going to the gym and tang soo do classes, I haven’t taken my touring bike out for a ride since I finished my tour. (Some of that, admittedly, is because I’ve been too busy to take it to the shop for a tune-up.) I decided that what I need is not an event goal but a consistency goal. I want to establish a healthy and sustainable routine.

I don’t (just) want to set a race PR (I have no races planned, but maybe that will change); I want to establish a way of life.

While my eyes are focused on getting my body moving, to accomplish this 360 days out of the next 365, other aspects of my life will also have to be adjusted. A healthy and regular sleep schedule so that I have the energy for my activity, for example. I can guess at some changes that will have to be made beyond better sleep habits, but I’m sure others will be a surprise.

One friend asked me yesterday who else is doing this with me. I had to shrug. I’m calling this my “birthday resolution” and I want to post about it to share the journey and to help hold myself accountable, but it didn’t even occur to me that somebody would want to join in until she asked.

So, hey anybody who is interested, please join in the fun and get active. You don’t need to wait until January 1^st to make a resolution. You don’t even need to wait until a birthday, mine just happened to be conveniently soon when I decided I needed a good goal, so it worked out that way. I could just have easily have begun on Sept 1^st instead of Sept 7^th. Pick what counts as active for you and strive to hit #360ActiveDays for yourself as well.

Stats:
Distance: 60.99 mi
Average Speed: 12.5; Max Speed: 25.5
Elevation Gain: 1,053 ft
Average Temp: 80.9 F; Temp Range: 69.8-96.8 F

Story:
The final day! That’s right, it’s the last day of the trip! Let that sink in a little. A little longer. Has it sunk in yet, because I’m not sure it has for me.

Last night as I was wrapping up overdue updates, a knock came at the church door. Another cyclist was at the church. I had been warned that one or two people might be showing up later, so I wasn’t totally taken aback. I gave the very taciturn young man a quick tour and he did his own thing, retiring to the nursery (one of the two small carpeted rooms available, I had chosen the other one) to sleep. I followed suit not too long after, only to be woken by a knock at the door. Nishanth, who I met two days ago at the Cookie Lady’s House, had arrived.

There were double doors into the building. I had left the right one unlocked. Nishanth tried only the left and then knocked. I gave him a minute to figure it out and then hauled my half-asleep butt out of bed to let him in. I pushed the door open by the frame on purpose, though I don’t know if he noticed. Doesn’t matter, because I was grumpy enough to add, “the other door was unlocked.” I also gave him a quick tour, asked him not to turn on the lights in the main room if he didn’t need to, and retreated to my spot on the floor.

The family and I had set a timeline for my arrival in Yorktown, with a goal of about 2:30PM. With that in mind, there was no need to wake up extra early or to rush once I did wake up. I was the first of the three of us awake (unexpected, but okay) and I plugged in the coffee pot I had prepped the night before so that it could brew while I went about my usual morning business. The cabinets of cyclist food contained, among other things, some honey and a package of freeze-dried bananas and strawberries. Both of those were added to my morning oatmeal for a treat. The coffee was stronger than I usual brew it; it’s difficult to gauge how much to add with a different sized scoop than I usually use as well as a different shape coffee filter impeding my ability to judge that way. It was still drinkable, though, and I had two cups.

Where I woke up, Day 68

Can I just draw everybody’s attention to the play kitchen here. What do you notice? That’s right, everybody, it actually IS possible to make a toy kitchen that is not pink. Whether this is in recognition that not all girls like pink or the even greater revelation that everybody should know how to use a kitchen to feed themselves, I don’t care. Good job either way.

I found out from Nishanth that he had been in Mineral the night before, but not in time to talk to anybody at the fire house. He knocked on the door but no one answered. Then he went and slept in the post office. He was woken up by the sheriff, who told him that yes, it is legal to sleep there. I expect he asked because at the Cookie Lady’s House I had told him that I had never spent the night in the post office because I wanted to do this trip legally. Chalk up an error of assumption to me. I’m okay with not having done that, though.

We all three talked a little about the journey. Nishanth observed that the people on both coasts struck him as liberal and the people everywhere else on the trail not so much. I commented that it’s not just coastlines but urban centers that sway things that way. From there the conversation meandered to how very white the TransAmerica Trail is. I’m pretty sure a comment from me started that bit, but the other two agreed with me. After leaving Astoria, there were very few people of color. I’ve touched on this topic with a few friends while chatting about this trip, one of whom was a person of color who said they didn’t think they would feel as comfortable riding the TransAm alone because of that. It makes me wonder, also, about the impression that foreigners take away about the US. I’ve met people from Australia, New Zealand, The Netherlands, Switzerland, England, and there are probably a few countries I’ve forgotten.

After those heavy morning thoughts, I finished my packing, made sure Nishanth, who looked like he would be the last of us to leave, knew how to lock the door, and I rolled off to conquer the last 60 miles of the TransAmerica Trail.

Ready to leave on my final day!

Nishanth

You know, I never did get his name…

As I have been seeing for the last day or two, there were a lot of signs along the road noting civil war history or, less frequently, revolutionary war history. Because I did this trip from west to east, the things that qualify as old got steadily older as I rode east. I saw properties today that were first settled by Europeans in the late 1600s. Nothing to what qualifies as old in Europe or other places, I know, and I wish there were more monuments to the Native Americans that were on the lands well before that, but it’s still impressive to think of how many people have passed through the area and what their lives would have been like at those times.

A line of canons marking the position of the Union artillery during a Civil War battle.

After a few miles on the road, the trail turned onto a path for pedestrians and non-motorized vehicles. I probably saw more cyclists today than I have all 67 other days of the trip put together. It was fun to nod, wave, and greet so many other cyclists.

The first town along the route was about 18 miles in and although I don’t remember seeing it marked on the map, there was a post office right off the path. Score! I could send off the bunch of post cards that I wrote out last night.

The last bunch of postcards is on their way

I stopped at one of the saddest gas station convenience stores I’ve seen all trip, filled up my water bottle from a sink, and went outside to eat some of the last of my snack foods rather than buy anything inside. I watched more cyclists go by, waving a few who noticed me up against the wall of the gas station store. Then it was back on the road, because I had 43 more miles to cover.

I like separated bike paths. They’re so much more relaxing to ride on than busy roads. Of course, I can usually hear cars coming up behind me, which is not true of other bikes. There was something on the path, and I went to the left around it, startling somebody who was coming up behind me silently (always give verbal warning when about to pass somebody, says somebody who doesn’t always give warning when about to pass somebody). No harm was done, but I readjusted my helmet mirror and paid more attention to it for a while after that.

The cycle path

Over 4,300 miles and I’ve had 6 mechanical issues, 4 of which I’ve got fixed. One mechanical issue that wasn’t fixed was the shifting into my smallest chainring. I brought it up at two bike shops, but the bike shifts fine when up on a bike stand and not under load so they ended up not making any adjustments. The 4 fixed mechanical issues were broken spokes: 3 fixed at two different bike shops, 1 fixed by me on the road. The last mechanical issue occurred today, 28 miles into the ride. Yes, I got a 5^th broken spoke on the rear wheel, drive side. I need to get that entire wheel overhauled, I think. This morning, Nishanth asked me what my next ride would be and suggested the Great Divide trail. I said I’d have to get a whole new bike and he said I could ride my Trek 520. No. No. No. I wouldn’t do that anyway, it’s not built for off-road, and after this trip I certainly would not trust my back wheel on a trip like that.

And thus dies the 5th and final spoke of the trip.

The cycleway eventually ended and the trail turned onto the Colonial Parkway. The road is lovely, lined on both sides by forest. It’s cement with embedded stones, though. I’ve been experiencing periodic numbness in my hands, particularly the right hand in the part enervated by the median nerve (palm side of thumb, index, middle, and part of the ring fingers). Since the numbness isn’t restricted to riding, I suspect that part of the issue is further up than the wrist, but the extra vibrations of the Colonial Parkway were not something I was looking forward to. Soon enough I was distracted from that because I started passing bodies of water that smelled salty. The ocean was near enough that it was affecting the nearby waters. How exciting!

A preening heron

It’s not the coast, yet, but getting closer

A murder of crows and, I think, a raven

I was having a speedy day, so I took a break as I passed through Williamsburg. The trail goes through some pedestrian only areas, which was fun, and I stopped in one of those areas for a break and a non-colonial treat: a Baskin-Robbins milkshake. It was a nice bit of sweet on a warm day. After I was certain that I had dawdled enough that my family would make it to Victory Monument before I did, I headed back towards the Colonial Parkway.

Getting closer!

I pulled up Find My Friends on my phone as I rode and saw that the family was about 1 mile away. I watched my mirror closely, but the small wobbly structure isn’t really sufficient to identify specific cars. They honked and waved as they passed by, which made up for my inability to see them coming.

And then it was the home stretch! I’ll have to post the video I took of riding up to see them holding up a red white and blue crepe paper finish line across the path to the monument. And several people in the area congratulated me. I don’t think I’ve been anywhere all trip where so many people recognized what I was about. Except, maybe, Astoria.

Last night, Mom asked me how many miles the ride would be total. From that, I expected a sign. I did not expect the entire family to be in matching homemade shirts that read “4,373 C2C” on the back. The one they made for me says “I did it Coast 2 Coast 4,373 miles USA”

Posing in front of the monument, with my niece attempting (and failing) to look like she’s not about to climb up despite being told not to.

See, I told you she was going to climb up there.

The families’ shirts.

Then, of course, there was the trip to the water. Because I just had to dip the tires. And then do a victory pose.

The bike carried me, now I carry it.

“Mom, can I put the bike down now?” Even unloaded, Erebus is 35 pounds. And this trip has built up my quads, not my upper body strength.

And thus endeth the ride and began the transition back to “normal human being”

Stay tuned for transition posts and an assessment of gear.

Stats:
Distance: 80.35 mi
Average Speed: 11.8 mph; Max Speed: 29.1 mph
Elevation Gain: 1,489 ft
Average Temp: 85.7 F; Temp Range 69.8-107.6 F

Story:
There were railroad tracks right next to the fire station, something I learned when a train went by around 7PM last night, startling me with its proximity. To my relief, the train either didn’t pass through at night or I was so soundly asleep that it didn’t wake me. I expect the former is more likely.

Where I woke up, Day 67

Given my late night fixing my bottle cage and tent pole, I opted to also have a late morning. The upside of that was that the fire house was open (they closed the building at 9) by the time I got up, so I could top off my water bottles. Packing up went more smoothly than setting up did last night, and I began my penultimate day of riding by 7:30.

It was a beautiful morning, partly cloudy, pleasant temperature, and the excitement of being near the goal all conspiring to put me in a good mood. Even the scenery joined in as I crossed Lake Anna three times and was treated to a beautiful lake and sky combination.

Lake Anna

The paths through virginia continue to be steeped with history, perhaps part of why they chose to route the TransAmerica Trail through this area. I passed Patrick Henry’s (of “Give me Liberty, or give me death!” fame) restored manor house and I don’t know how many civil war signs, historical markers, and monuments. There were even a few civil war cemeteries.

Patrick Henry’s Home

About halfway through my ride, I entered the longest urbanized stretch that I’ve seen for…I’m not sure. It might be the longest stretch on the trip. From Ashland with a little break to Mechanicsville and a bit further, basically riding through the suburbs of Richmond. Ashland has a quaint downtown and made for a good rest stop. I even had a brief chat with a bearded gentleman riding a bike and wearing a bedazzled cowboy hat, crinkly flower shirt, short flowery skirt of a different pattern, many beaded bracelets and anklets, and three inch heels. We mostly talked about the weather. I wish I had complimented his fashion sense before he rode away. I could never have pulled off that outfit.

Riding through towns means you get opportunities to stop and refuel. But there’s a price to pay; all the lights and stop signs and so on that are typical of highly populated areas got old quickly. Yeah, I’ve gotten spoiled by long stretches of roads without so much as an intersection, let alone one with a stop sign or traffic light.

I got rained on a bit around noon, but the rain was barely enough to make me any more wet than the humidity already had, so I ignored it and kept going. When I stopped at a gas station for a snack, one guy passed me by saying, “You got rained on, didn’t you?” as if this were a revelation. I replied that it was nothing new for me, because given the last week, it really isn’t.

As the map said to, I called ahead to the church where I hoped to camp out for the night. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that I wasn’t going to be camping, but that they allow cyclists inside the building. There was a note on the updates that said lodging was no longer available, so I wasn’t expecting it. I was told to call one of the numbers on the door when I arrived and somebody would come to let me in. It only took David a few minutes to come by and open the door. Now instead of one last night of camping in my tent, I get a night with a roof, a shower, and access to a kitchen. Good deal!

The views opened up a bit as I got past Richmond

Tomorrow is the last day. The end. Fin. Having never done a tour longer than a few days, I don’t think I could really appreciate what I was getting myself into when I started, and I knew that. I began my ride excited, hoping to see and experience great things (and I have) but not with any understanding or solid expectation of how those great things would manifest themselves. Now I’m facing another cognitive failure: after 67 days of cycling from place to place, planning the next day, and making sure I had shelter and sufficient food, I’m about to be done. The future isn’t a void. Far from it. I’ll meet my family at the finish. We’ll go out for dinner. In the only slightly more distant future, I have a job to go back to and a lot to do to prepare for the new semester. But I expect the transition will be…strange.

But for now, I’m going to eat my dinner, write some postcards, and try to deal with the backlog of blog posts I need to get up.

Roadkill Count: 4 birds, 2 cats, 1 possum, 1 skunk, 1 unknown mammal, 4 snakes, 2 turtles, 1 frog

Map Day 67

Stats:
Distance: 81.61 mi
Average Speed: 11.6 mph; Max Speed: 33.8 mph
Elevation Gain: 4,138 ft
Average Temp: 87.0 F; Temp Range 66.2-102.2 F

Story:
I went to sleep last night on the floor of the furthest room from the entryway to the Cookie Lady’s House. This room was the one that smelled least fusty, possibly because it had an open window. Sleep did not come easily, but it did come.

Only to be interrupted around 11:30 PM by a flashlight and banging on the door to the unused (unusable?) porch off the room I was in. “Could you unlock the door?” I was asked.

Another cyclist had arrived. Very, very late at night. Victoria, who lives upstairs, and a friend escorted the cyclist into the house and told me that he’s in the race. You know, the race that started on June 2^nd and was won on June 18^th. That race. I wasn’t aware there were any people still participating, but apparently there are a few. For his part, he was surprised he hadn’t run into me before now. I suspect that’s because yesterday was such a short day that until then I had been ahead of him.

There was a bustle of activity as he got oriented and settled. During this time I learned that there have been some problems with flooding of the house recently. It’s a shame, because I think a fair bit of the paper-based memorabilia cannot last. I’m happy to have visited, but it would be a lie of omission for me not to say that the place desperately needs a thorough cleaning and some repairs. As it is, it’s not sustainable, I don’t think. Not without becoming a health hazard.

Eventually I returned to my sleeping pad and worked my way back to sleep.

My alarm went off too early in the morning, so I shut it up. The second and third alarms (yes, I have a backup on my backup because I hate mornings that much) went off as well and I got myself moving. This was motivated more than a little by not wanting to wake up my current housemate, despite the fact that he was two rooms over. Before I had finished making breakfast, though, he woke on his own.

Where I woke up, Day 66

We talked for a while. He’s from India, acknowledges that he’s going very slowly (for a racer), and wants to be done by Saturday, the same day I plan on finishing so he can get up to NYC and catch a flight home. His wife is apparently tired of solo parenting. He also wanted to do a Ph.D. to do with bicycle touring, specifically gear, but his proposal wasn’t accepted. As we chatted, he asked if I knew of any free places to stay tonight, and I showed him my maps and mentioned Mineral. He then scared me by saying that Mineral was 100 miles away. I’ve made mathematical errors before, but this time it wasn’t me, much to my relief, and the distance was actually around 80.

Victoria had invited us both to stop by the café where she works as a chef, The Mud House, in Crozet, a little off the route. As tempting as that was, when he asked me if I intended to go I replied that I likely would not. She came by as I was getting ready to leave and we spoke for a bit, finally exchanging names since we didn’t do so in the middle of the night when we met. She warned me about the slope on the way out of town (the maps mentioned that) with an added warning that the road was gravelly from the rain washing the gravel out of peoples’ driveways.

That warning was very helpful. I rode the first 1.5-2 miles leaning heavily on my brakes to control speed and not wipe out on gravel.

Switchback. Yikes.

I did not stop at Crozet. In fact, I rode right past the turnoff for it without even realizing I had done so. I did stop at the next town with a convenience store, though. White Hall’s convenience store also has a little kitchen, and I got two egg-on-a-biscuit sandwiches and a cup of coffee. The cashier asked which way I was headed. Actually, I think what he asked is if I was just starting or almost done. They get a lot of cyclists. While I waited for the sandwiches, the cashier spoke with another customer on a number of things, although I wasn’t much paying attention to what. She eventually turned and asked if she could speak with me about my ride for a bit.

Nicole likes to ride herself, but doesn’t think she’d ever do the TransAm on her own. I told her some of my tales from the trail, a bit about the various places I’ve spent the night, the few times I’ve been unsettled by a person and the more frequent times that I’ve felt threatened by a person driving a vehicle. She was surprised to hear me refer to myself as an amateur, but I most definitely am. If she had been witness to my slow crawl up any number of slopes over the course of the ride, she might not have been so surprised.

A lovely view over a field. But I’m out of the mountains now.

After that, which was less than 20 miles into my ride I didn’t interact much with people at all until much later in the day. I rode over rollers and a few small climbs, passed by several vineyards and a number of orchards. I almost stopped at one that was selling fresh peaches and products made with their peaches. The only reason I didn’t was the suspicion that the peaches would not have survived for long in my panniers before becoming a mushy, sloppy mess.

The route took me through Charlottesville, then past Monticello. I wish it would have been possible to see the house from the road. That’s the kind of tour that deserves more time than I could devote to it today, though, so I didn’t detour to it.

Unlike the last few days where it’s been cool, humid, grey, and rainy, today was hot, humid, bright, and sunny. It was a nice change to be dry, and to have the clothes hung on my panniers actually dry out over the course of the day, but I could have done with a few degrees less heat in midday. Overall, it was pleasant riding, though.

As I was getting on towards the end of the day, I nearly saw a car accident. An impatient driver went to pass me, not slowing down but giving me several feet of space. The space is great, all drivers should do that for cyclists. The problem wasn’t the space or the speed, but the fact that they were trying to pass me while approaching a bend in the road. Two cars came around the bend and the one moving to pass me had to hit the brakes and move over. Quickly. I bet you won’t be surprised to learn that they waited patiently behind me for a better line of sight before trying again.

It was enough to make me extra conscious of cars passing me, though. I noticed a small red car coming up behind me at one point where there was something in the road near the right side. If there hadn’t been a car there, I likely would have passed it on the left, but it was far enough from the edge of the road that I went to the right, allowing the car to go left. Then we both stopped. It was a turtle crossing the road. I picked it up and carried it in the direction it had been walking, placing it in the grass on the other side of the road. The woman who had been driving had stopped to do the same. She told me that this was the first turtle she had seen all season. Then she asked about the ride. She lives on the trail and she and her family have been seeing cyclists for decades. Her son even is considering riding the trail. I hope he gets to do it. It’s such a great experience.

I didn’t go in, but it was nice to see

At last, I arrived in Mineral and found the volunteer fire department where I was going to camp. The maps say to call before using the facilities, but no one answered the phone. The recorded message was something along the lines of “your call cannot be answered at this time and you cannot leave a message. Please call again later.” I walked around the building a bit but didn’t see anyone. I knew people were there, though, since there were cars parked in the lot and two of the bay doors were open. After waiting a few minutes, someone came out of a back room and I was able to get a quick tour. There are showers (at least until they close the building up for the night around 9), bathroom access, and filtered water. I was warned not to drink straight tap water. Mineral is an apt name for the town, and they’re not the kind of minerals you wish to ingest a significant quantity of.

I took a trip to the grocery store, probably my last for the trip, and got dinner for tonight and tomorrow, snacks for the road, and a bottle of wine. Then I returned to the fire house and took a shower, made some phone calls, and ate dinner. Around 8 I filled up my water bottles. When I went to put my smallest bottle in its place in the lowest bottle cage, one side of the cage snapped. This happened to me last summer with a Planet Bike cage that I had stretched to fit around a larger bottle, but I didn’t expect to have a problem with this one. I strapped the cage pieces to the down-tube of the bike with a zip tie. That should be enough to keep it stable for the next two days.

Then I went to set up my tent. Two days ago the piece that holds the two poles of the tent together popped. I can get it to snap back together by pressing hard on the two pieces (translation, stepping on them), but it’s not permanent and they snapped back apart tonight. Okay, fine, I can just snap them back together again. That wasn’t bad. What was bad was when one of the poles themselves broke. It was already getting dark and I had a problem that duct tape could not fix. There was a spare bit of tubing in my tent kit, but I had never really considered how to use it before. Thankfully, logic was enough to work this one out.

The tubing wouldn’t fit over the bent ends of the poles. That must mean there’s a way to take the poles apart. Ah, yes, the foot unscrews reveling the elastic cord holding the segments together. But you’ve got to be careful when releasing elastic cord or it’ll snap so far into the poles that you’ll have to take them all apart. I used the top pole to anchor the elastic two segments down, wrapping it a few times around so the elastic couldn’t pull through and so I would have enough slack to rethread it. I removed the bent end, slid the larger metal tube over the main pole tubes, and rethreaded the elastic.

I’m most proud of myself for doing this all calmly. No panic, no irritable frustration. Problem solved. The worst part about it, though, is that it’s now about 2 hours past my bedtime thanks to various delays in getting things sorted for the night. Ah, but I’m almost done, and then I can sleep as much as I want to make up the lack.

Also, it’s nearly 10 PM and my racer companion, who was aiming to end here for the night, has yet to show up. His brakes are bad, and he’s been having to resort to using his feet as supplemental brakes, so I hope he’s okay.

Roadkill Count: 1 bird (woodpecker), 1 groundhog, 1 rabbit, 2 squirrels, 1 unknown mammal

Map Day 66

Stats:
Distance: 41.05
Average Speed: 9.5 mph; Max Speed: 32.7 mph
Elevation Gain: 4,367 ft
Average Temp: 68.3 F; Temp Range: 62,6-73.4 F

Story:
It rained a bit last night, judging by how wet everything still was when I woke up, but it wasn’t loud or windy, so I slept well enough. The day was going to be short in terms of mileage, but I wanted the opportunity to rest after the climb to the Blue Ridge Parkway, so I didn’t dawdle over getting onto the road.

Where I woke up, Day 65

The day began with a slow climb approaching the town of Vesuvius. During this part of the day, I found out why the Mallard Duck Campground wasn’t showing up on my GPS: the location was off by nearly 8 miles. If I had been westbound, tired, and counting on that campground being where it showed on my screen, I would not have been happy. As it was, I made a note of the discrepancy and kept going. Vesuvius was listed on the map as having a convenience store, but I didn’t see it. That doesn’t mean it isn’t there, just that it wasn’t on the streets I was on. Since there were two more towns listed as having convenience stores on my route today, I didn’t worry about it too much.

The hunter didn’t like me cycling underneath it

After a break for a snack in a church parking lot, I started the climb. It was difficult, people did not exaggerate. I think the Ozarks had steeper inclines, but none quite so long. There was a steep uphill on one side and a steep down on the other for most of the way, meaning there wasn’t much of a shoulder most of the time. There were, however, a number of driveways off the road that were convenient locations to stop and take a break, which I did several times over the course of the 3 miles of the climb to the Blue Ridge Parkway.

Newt

I’ve heard of the beauty of the Blue Ridge Parkway, and it was fun to see it firsthand. The clouds blocked a lot of the views, but there were enough to inspire a pause for a good look. Until the rain began, that is. The rain came while I was climbing a bit, I outran it on a downhill, it caught back up to me again on the next climb, I got out in front once more speeding down. Then I pulled into the Humpback Rocks Visitor Center and it caught up again for the last time while I was talking to the woman behind the counter. We chatted for a while. She’s met other riders, but by an odd chance they’ve all been westbound. She’s also heard of the Cookie Lady though she didn’t know where the house was.

A view from the Blue Ridge Parkway.

The Blue Ride Parkway before the rain hit

After a snack, I decided to press on the last few miles rather than wait for the rain to stop completely. The rest of the ride was almost all downhill, which was pleasant. What was not so pleasant was being unable to find the convenience store in Rockfish Gap. The one up on the Blue Ridge Parkway had been off the road, so I had skipped it counting on the one right before Afton. I have food, so I’m not going hungry tonight, but I had been hoping for the opportunity to buy something to cook in the kitchen I have access to this evening.

The Cookie Lady was, is!, a TransAm legend. The downstairs apartment has housed thousands of cyclists since the TransAm began, and is stuffed with memorabilia. (And, by the smell of things, mildew and/or mold.) There was some food in the fridge, some of which is good and some of which needed to be thrown out (mold again, or open bottles of drinks that someone left behind). After a quick tour of the place, I emptied out the bucket on the dehumidifier, cleaned out the fridge a bit, and made myself a snack. I feel a bit like I’m in a museum, which makes it a little bit difficult to relax completely. I’m glad to have stopped here, though. It’s nice to see this memorial to the great kindness June (the cookie lady) spread during her life. It’s also nice to see it continued.

The sign marking The Cookie Lady’s house.

The walls, and sometimes ceilings, are covered with stuff

Postcards, bottles, jerseys…

Shirts, cards, newspaper clippings, you name it.

Because today was such a short day, I also took the opportunity to update my blog. I’ve fallen far behind, and I want to catch up before I finish.

Roadkill count: 1 bird, 1 squirrel, 1 turtle, 2 frogs, 1 newt

Map Day 65

Stats:
Distance: 75.48 mi
Average Speed: 10.9 mph; Max Speed: 33.9 mph
Elevation Gain: 3,990 ft
Average Temp: 76.7 F; Temp Range: 66.2-93.2 F

Story:
Most of the times I have camped or shared a hostel with other cyclists, they kept a schedule not too different from mine. Some went to bed earlier, some a bit later. The same went for waking up. I wasn’t often the first person awake. The same does not hold, apparently, for Appalachian Trail hikers. Or at least not this group. Their behavior might not match that of the thru-hikers that are travelling in the “bubble” of ideal time.

No picture…it didn’t feel right with so many other people who would be in it.

At one point when I woke up halfway during the night, something that happens most nights, I put my phone under my pillow so the alarm would be muffled when it went off. I can’t be certain that no one was disturbed by it, but nobody stirred, so I’m calling it a successful strategy. It took me a while to get ready and packed in the dim light inside the hostel, but I did. During that hour or so, only one person moved, and that was to go to the restroom and then go back to sleep. I was out the door around 6:50, before anybody else got out of bed.

It was grey and spitting rain at me when I left, but not enough to motivate me to take out the rain gear. The clothes I had hung up to dry overnight hadn’t, so they were strapped to the outside of my panniers and tent. It looks very classy, I assure you. I didn’t have much hope for them getting fully dry, though, with the entire sky covered in grey clouds. I wasn’t riding for more than an hour or so when the rain got persistent enough that I stopped to pull out the rain gear.

The low-hanging clouds hid mountains and promised rain

I filled up my water bottles in Daleville, about 20 miles in, and then passed through neighboring Troutville. As I was leaving Troutville the rain started to come down much harder and I looked around for shelter, spotting a store with an overhang not far away. It likely wouldn’t have mattered if they were open, but I didn’t have to worry about that since they wouldn’t open for another hour. I hunkered down there and took a break while the rain picked up to pouring then died to a drizzle.

For most of the rest of the day, things were predictable. There were climbs and descents but very little flat. The roads were small but dotted, or occasionally lined, with houses. The houses might have been the most interesting part of the day. Some were huge and well-placed (on rising ground…) with names like “Rocky Hill” or “One Oak” hung on posts by the driveway. Others were more modest, but well-cared for. And some were so run down they were hard to tell from their unoccupied neighbors except for when a car was parked in front. I saw a bit of this in eastern Kentucky as well, but it seemed to me that the fancy and the dilapidated were in closer quarters today.

Remnants of an old stone bridge

The last town I passed through today was Lexington. The town was full of Civil War history, such as being the burial place of “Stonewall” Jackson. I only had about 10 miles more to ride, but I was developing a bit of a headache, so when I spotted a likely looking café, I stopped for some coffee. It was even better than that, when I saw they had a trendier-than-expected menu (I did not expect to see avocado toast up on the board) that included all-day breakfast. I got a breakfast burrito to go with my coffee. That breakfast burrito, stuffed with eggs, cheese, salsa, and hashbrowns) was one of the best things I’ve eaten on this trip. I also got to talking with the cook/cashier/only employee in the store (possibly owner). When I looked over my shoulder to check on my bike he assured me that it was safe, that in this town you could leave your car unlocked with the keys inside and it would be safe. I thanked him and commented that since I live in Chicago that idea is still a bit difficult to grasp for me. Not so difficult that I had locked up my bike, but difficult enough that leaving it unlocked and eating with my back to it concerned me. “It would be gone by now in Chicago,” I said. He commented that he had lived in Paris, so he understood. And even where he came from in the south of France he couldn’t have left things unattended like he could here. It was one of the things he really liked about Lexington, which was a big deal because there were plenty of things that he doesn’t like, such as the KKK being active in the area. Can’t say I blame him for that one. Before I left he packaged up a donut and handed it to me for my trip. I ate it later on with my dinner and it was as delicious as the breakfast burrito. With two culinary delights like that, I will go on record saying that if you’re ever in Lexington, VA, stop in at Pure Eats for some awesome food. At least the breakfast fare and donuts, anyway.

I saw a few patches of blue sky from time to time. Not many, though.

With the ACA maps on my Garmin, I can usually find the locations I’m aiming for when it comes to lodging. Today, for some reason, the campground I wanted didn’t show up. Possibly it didn’t load properly because the Garmin has limited memory for specific locations like that, but it started to concern me when I noticed that I had poor cell signal. Worse, I want to stay at The Cookie Lady’s House tomorrow, and you’re supposed to call ahead to do that. But the area was lightly populated and the road ran along a river, so I figured if push came to shove I could consider stealth camping for the first time ever. It didn’t come to that, though. The campground was almost exactly where I expected it to be.

The proprietor told me to set up my tent not in a tent site but under their pavilion because of the storms expected. Even as I type this, a storm has begun and I’m grateful to be under a roof. The wind isn’t bad, but the splatter is enough that I moved all my things to the tables in the center of the pavilion, and I’m debating whether or not to put up the rain fly.

The campground is sparsely populated, mostly by RVs that look like they’re set up long term; I’m the only person in a tent here. There are bathrooms and hot showers, but cell service is minimal. I managed to find a spot where I could attempt to call my parents for a bit and then tried to check in at the Cookie Lady’s house for tomorrow. I got a strange message about the number not answering, please try again later. This was followed by a standard “leave a voicemail” so I did. I have my fingers crossed that it’ll get through, but I’ll call again tomorrow morning as soon as I can anyway.

Tomorrow is a big climb. The proprietor of the campground mentioned it several times. As have other riders as far back as Wyoming. And it’s been mentioned on several tour diaries. The dreaded Vesuvius. The descent headed west is enough to wear out brakes. But I’ve come this far. This is my last big climb of the trip and I’ll say what I did before the first big climb, “…I am determined to make it over this pass if I have to crawl over it with the bike on my back! I pray it won’t come to that, though.”

Roadkill Count: 5 birds, 3 deer (including two babies), 1 fox, 1 possum, 1 raccoon, 4 unknown mammals, 3 snakes, 6 newts (all of the newts were in a 1 mile stretch).

Map Day 64

Stats:
Distance: 78.66 mi
Average Speed: 10.2 mph; Max Speed: 32.9 mph
Elevation Gain: 4,607 ft
Average Temp: 76.3 F; Temp Range: 59.0-95.0 F

Story:
I did not sleep well last night. The park where I was is apparently a popular one and there were people around several times. They weren’t loud, but I woke up anyway. And made sure my knife was handy. Yeah, not a solid night of sleep.

The view from my tent last night

Where I woke up, Day 63

I was happy enough to wake up in the morning (somewhat tired) and nearly jumped out of my skin when I pulled open the door to the ladies room to find a woman already in there fussing with a makeup box. She said something about her roommate being asleep with…company…so she had spent the night in the park. There’s a place in the small gazebo where you can crawl up into the roof and nobody will know you’re there. I wonder how many times she’s done that. I lent her the use of a charger, she had a cable but not the bit to plug into the wall, and we talked a bit as I got ready. Not much because I wasn’t caffeinated yet. She gave me one of her bandanas before she left as, she said a reminder of Wythville. This might sound a bit harsh, but I was needing a new rag for cleaning my bike chain off; my old bandana is too greasy and should likely just be tossed.

I was on the road a bit before 7 AM, admiring the low clouds hovering over the mountains. Unfortunately, I didn’t make it more than 8 miles before a ping alerted me to another broken spoke. Yes, another. This makes four! This one was also on the rear wheel, but not on the drive side, so I sat down to try and sort it out. It would have gone better had I been able to remove the cassette, but I got the shorter spoke from the Damascus store positioned only to realize that I couldn’t get it to thread into the spoke nipple. My frustration level at that point was high enough that I had to stop and take several deep breaths before doing anything else. I then repeated the entire maddening process with one of the longer spokes and got that one in properly.

Low clouds

Since the bike was already unloaded, it seemed like a good time to try and address my shifting issue. That didn’t go as well as I had hoped, but I didn’t make anything worse. Didn’t make it any better either.

Frustration of that caliber is difficult for me to shake off, so when I saw a restaurant a few miles later, I stopped in for pancakes. I wanted a break in my day that would let me start “fresh” so to speak. It mostly worked.

Off again in a somewhat better mood, I worked my way through constant rollers. I almost miss yesterday’s big climbs. No, strike that. I definitely miss the big climbs because it’s a pain to try and shift down into the smallest chainring and have the chain not move. Even more maddening is that it shifts perfectly when unloaded, so the bike shops couldn’t fix it. I’ve the low limit screw and that helped a bit, but also increases the risk of the chain slipping off entirely. It’s a calculated risk, I suppose.

Goldfinch

At one stop there were some storm clouds looming. One woman came into the gas station saying it was pouring five miles down the road and headed our way, but my phone said no rain was expected for 2 hours. I took a chance on the phone and kept riding.

The entire county welcomes cyclists. I like this sign.

Guinea Fowl

Such a deer family.

Perspective is funky. This barn looks like it has no roof, but the structure to the left is another shed, not the barn wall.

Fifty-five miles into my day, I achieved another last. The last map change! I have now completed 11 map sets and have only map section 12 to go!

One map more!

I even got a text from some work friends asking how I was doing. I sent them an update with a smiling photo.

368 miles from the end

But mostly today was a grueling slog of hills, difficulty shifting—even to the point of having to stop and roll the bike forward a bit without me on it to get the chain to shift down properly—and lingering tiredness from last night’s poor night sleep.

Covered bridge

A lovely view once the clouds cleared up

The road

Little purple orchids

Twenty miles from my destination, I called the hostel to see if there was space and there was, which was good since the next nearest place to stay was either 20 miles past that or 5 miles back. It was a few miles off the trail, so I let the GPS find me the fastest way to get there, a route which involved a slog uphill and a glorious and somewhat winding downhill. I almost missed the hostel, got honked at for not getting completely off the road to check the address on my map, and pushed my bike up the gravel driveway. There are seven Appalachian Trail hikers (most not attempting a thru-hike) here, making for some interesting conversation. Still, if there had been another place to stay in the area, I likely would have headed there after seeing the confederate battle flag hanging next to the US flag on the hostel wall.

I have a nice bunk, ate a good meal, had a shower, and washed my clothes. The clothes are hung up outside and it’s even odds whether they end up dryer or soaked by rain when I wake up tomorrow, but even if I ride in damp clothes, at least they won’t smell bad.

A hiker offered me some wine as I ate, and that combined with not drinking or eating as well as I should have today has left me feeling like somebody hit me over the head with a tired stick. Bed calls. An actual bed. No sheets, but my bag liner and quilt will do for that. I am certain that I should sleep better than last night’s interrupted attempts.

Roadkill: 5 birds, 1 possum, 1 raccoon, 2 squirrels, 7 unknown mammals, 1 snake

Map Day 63

Stats*:
Distance: 70.59 mi
Average Speed: 10.6 mph; Max Speed: unknown
Elevation Gain: unknown
Average Temp: unknown; Temp Range: unknown

* My Garmin crashed late in the day. It restarted with the correct mileage, but seems to have lost details about route, elevation gain, speed, and temperature for a large part of the route.

Story:

The biggest storm last night was the one that passed by as I was getting ready to cook dinner, I think. Either that or I was sound asleep by the time the next one hit and I didn’t hear a thing of it. Either way, I slept well enough. It was still mostly dark when I woke up a bit before 6, which facilitated using the non-existent facilities without being seen by any of the houses who had backs facing the church. I went about my normal routine of breakfast and breaking camp while wearing my rain pants and jacket. It wasn’t raining, yet, though the forecast predicted plenty of precipitation, but it was chilly and I figured that since I was likely going to have to get the rain gear out soon enough anyway, why not now?

Where I woke up, Day 62

The pannier wind-screen for cooking breakfast

As I was getting ready to leave someone, the pastor maybe, came and opened up the church. He greeted me and asked if I wanted to come inside and use the restroom. (Only about 3 times since arriving, but we’ll overlook that for now.) I thanked him and took advantage of the bit of civilization before setting off for the day.

Today’s elevation profile contained a slow climb to Damascus followed by what looked like a tall mountain with one smaller peak on each side. A fair bit of climbing, but it didn’t look as steep as some of the other days’ climbs have been. I was settled in for a good day of riding. And rain. The rain started coming down within an hour of when I started. By the time I reached Damascus, only 15 miles into my day, I was drenched. At least this rain was the kind of rain that it’s mostly safe to ride in. Yeah, traction, braking, and visibility are always affected when it’s raining, but unlike last night’s storm, this one didn’t come with gusting wind or lightning. It was just water. Lots of it.

I stopped at a popular café to warm up and have a snack and possibly wait out some of the rain. The only problem with the café was that it was air conditioned to the point where I was cold most of the time I was there. I ordered a coffee and a cinnamon bun, and spent nearly an hour eating and talking to people who noticed my bike outside and wanted to know where I was riding to and from and how long had I been on the road, and so on. It was a nice way to spend some time.

Heavenly

On my ride into town I had noticed a few bike rental places open, so as I was enjoying my second cup of coffee, I did a quick search on my phone. Yesterday I assumed, based on the last few weeks’ experience, that most things would be closed on a Sunday. But Damascus caters to Appalachian Trail hikers and people cycling the Virginia Creeper Trail. Right next to the café was a bike store and it was, indeed, open, so I wheeled the bike in to have the spoke looked at.

I was told by the mechanic that the spokes I got at the last place were too long and he doesn’t know how the guy made them fit. He gave a few that were shorter, but still not exactly the right size. Good enough, in his opinion, so he installed one and put a second next to my pump (where I was keeping the other two spares) just in case. He also retrued the wheel, saying that I had done a pretty good job of keeping the wobble down considering that I didn’t have caliper brakes. Since caliper brakes grab the rim from both sides, they can be used to help fine-tune the wheel. Disc brakes are mounted towards the center and on one side. This means that wheel wobble doesn’t affect braking as much, but you won’t have a reference point for reducing wobble. I use one of my tools leaned against the rack and held as steady as possible. If I had been in a position to buy souvenirs, I would have been spoiled for choice here. Instead of souvenirs, I took some pictures.

I didn’t know the Sasquatch could ride

Good advice. Also a clever design

It didn’t take long to get the wheel fixed, and I chatted to the mechanic as he worked. The ride, the AT, Chicago (he has a relative who went to the University of Chicago). I even told him a story or two from my days researching in Thailand, the one about having something roar from a bush two feet behind me and fleeing as fast as I could. When he was done, he said tell the people upfront to charge me for one spoke ($2). I suspect there was a labor charge that didn’t get added. At the register, I told them to charge me for two spokes, since he had given me a spare. The last time I got my rear wheel fixed it took 40 minutes and cost over $60. This time it took less than 30 minutes and cost me $4. Average repair cost, $32.

On my way out of town, I couldn’t resist stopping to take a hike on the Appalachian Trail. So it was only 50 feet of trail, I can still say I hiked on the AT, right?

The rain had slowed, meaning that I wasn’t wiping droplets or fog off my glasses every few minutes, but it hadn’t stopped. The climb kept me long for as long as it lasted, but the descent between peak 1 and peak 2 left me chilled. So I did the only rational thing: I stopped at the town nestled there for another cup of coffee and a snack. I’ve had so much caffeine today! The people in the Konnarock store were very friendly, letting me know before I even asked where I could wash out and fill up my water bottles with good mountain well water and so on. And the locals who were in for lunch chatted with me for a while about my ride. By the time I left, the rain had stopped.

There are plenty of old houses falling apart, but for some reason this one caught my eye.

This log church is beautiful

The next two climbs were much nicer than the first because the rain had stopped. But all of the climbs today were more comfortable than those of the last few days. The grades were nice, the roads were wide enough to feel comfortable, and the descents were fun! With reasonable grades going both up and down and gentle curves, I didn’t have to ride my brakes like I’ve been doing. Just about the only time I braked was on straight portions to allow cars to pass me more quickly.

Rolling hills surrounded by forest. I could ride on this kind of road every day.

Another crumbling house that was likely beautiful in its day.

Oh, and the sun made an appearance. That was nice, although the humidity started to rise at that point with the recent rain evaporating off the road and surrounding surfaces. Overall, though, the afternoon was pleasant. Much more so than the rainy morning.

I like the shadows on the pond. Just ignore the fact that the pond is covered in green scum and appreciate the play of light and shadow.

And even with the repair and longer than usual stops to avoid the worst of the rain, I got to my intended destination around 4PM. I checked in with the community center and then made my way to the park. There was a small group of people under the pavilion there as I sat to plan out my next (last!) few days. After noting that the park had a port-a-potty and no water source, I decided that tonight was a good night to go out to eat. Not for the bathroom, but for access to water. I brought my 3L Camelbak with me and filled it up at the restaurant before I left. That should be enough for tonight, breakfast, and leaving the park with 3 full bottles tomorrow morning.

And tomorrow should be the day of another last for this tour. The last map section switch. Tomorrow I should retire map section 11 for map section 12. It’s final days now. And Vesuvius looms every closer…

Roadkill count: 4 birds, 2 cats, 1 possum, 2 raccoons, 5 unknown mammals, 1 newt

Map Day 62….um not really. That straight line was NOT straight.