I left Millersville this morning. I thought that an early departure, and riding on the North section of the DC loop would save me trouble. Wrong. Even with a 7:30 am head start, I spent about two hours just trying to make it to the other side of the District. It seemed that our illustrious senators were hard at work directing traffic, and having the same results as they had earlier on the budget discussions. Curiously enough, the slowest level of traffic were at areas that sport signs that read ‘DUI enforced’. Hmm.
They day promised to be a London type one, with heavy and dense fog, visibility limited, and slippery roads. This made me reconsider my original riding plans to take the Skyline road through the mountains. However, as I rode on towards Front Royal, the sun started to come out. So, at least for about 45 miles I got to ride the wonderful, Shenandoah valley roads.
I have always liked dome-topped silos, and on this segment I finally found a drive way into an old farm where I could pull over and take some photos. Small problem was that I ended up parking the BeMWu next to the mailbox. Just as I was getting ready to snap photos, the mail truck came down the road. As I was about to move the bike, when the mail carrier, a joyful young lady just stopped a few feet away, asked me to put it in the mail box and drove on.
The road was full of switchbacks and chicanes, and I was in rider heaven. But of course, there has to be a learning moment and a spoiler. Why was there not an alert about the latter? Just about 4 miles before the end to this track, an eighteen-wheeler loaded up with open cages full of live chickens pulled up in front of me. This was a brand new smell. Boy did I learn a new aroma. For the next 4 miles, at a crawling pace, the smell of chickens and chicken waste inundated the air, the space inside my helmet, everything. But also, a lesson from the past was timely applied. Paraphrasing it, “When riding behind a truck fool of chickens, keep your mouth shut!”.
This wonderful back road finally connected with the Interstate and from here on, I was doing battle with eighteen-wheelers. However, I must say that even on the Interstate, Virginia has amazing roads. Hills rolled, Kudzu blanketing trees, shrubs, and rocks like dark jade mortuary cloth, ghost raising their shapes underneath, asking not to be forgotten.
This night finds me in North Eastern Tennessee, and tomorrow will reach Memphis, God willing
HA about the chickens. When I am looking for food here I am often passed by a truck loaded down with big ol’ pigs. It is my goal to be able to snap a picture of one before the year is out.
Gotta love you, babe…so glad you got to do some of the mountain stuff. I think we go back and just do the Appalachians unto itself with me in a side car, birdwatching. I had a very close call with a motorcycle tonite heading back from the Kuch’s…a scary out of no-where blaze, just as I was about to get in the spur lane. I had a blinker on, this jerk with a rider, was zipping in and out, and I never saw him in my mirror checks….be careful, sweetheart. I know you don’t drive like that, but I bet you wish you could have changed lanes from out behind the chicken coop, poop…