5/2/01
Thankfully, today's riding was without mishap, though the climbing became unbeleivable when I reached Charlottesville. After breaking camp in the morning, I checked at the office, where I discovered that the bicyclist rate was only $5 a night. After getting a refund, I headed out on the road and basically struggled through another extremely hot day.
The campground I had stayed at was frequented by boaters, who are the most dangerous drivers I had come across on my trip. They did not move over for me, and twice I had to ride off of the shoulderless road to avoid boat trailers that got too close. The cars would pull around me, but then they would return to the right lane before their boat trailers had passed me. Once I was away from the lake and back on the official route, traffic lessened and I was able to relax.
I had a bit of a scare in Kent, where I was planning on a cool drink and a chance to refill my water bottles. Unfortunately, the country store was closed and I was left with several miles to go before I reached the next town. I was pretty exhausted at this point, and after struggling a few more miles, I stopped in the shade to rest. While sitting on the ground, trying to conserve my last few sips of water, I spotted a woman peeking through her bushes at me. I walked over and asked her if she could fill my water bottles, which she kindly agreed to do, though she asked me to wait at the end of her driveway because she was afraid her dogs would attack me. I waited at the road and she rewarded me with full water bottles with -- get this -- ICE. Wow, ice is really good. I thanked her profusely, then continued onward. For a few miles I rode alongside construction crews that were painting lines on the roadway. They were almost always hunkered down in the shade of their trucks and looked at me as if I were an idiot, crawling up steep hills in my lowest gear.
The wind became a bit of a problem, gusting hard enough to blow over the traffic cones left behind by the road crews. I finally managed to make it to Charlottesville, where an incredibly long and steep uphill completely defeated me. I struggled to pedal for a while before getting off and pushing the bike. I was very close to Jefferson's home of Monticello, so tour busses hogged the road, and even if they hadn't, I was in no condition to ride.
I finally crested the hill and coasted into the Charlottesville tourist center, where I got directions to a cheap hotel. The people behind the counter were sympathetic and said that previous riders had claimed that Charlottesville was the toughest county to ride through. That's a cheerful thought. I hope they're right, cause the climb into town was unreal. From there I rode through the town, which is home to the beautiful University of Virginia. The drivers became increasingly obnoxious, racing to get past me on the downhills just to turn right in front of me, which meant I had to apply the brakes and give up my momentum. Of course, without momentum to help me begin the next ascent, I was usually forced to push my 100-pound bike rather than ride it. I knew that the heat and effort had taken their toll when I caught myself trying to shift into a lower gear while I was pushing the bike. The heat and effort of the day made that incident seem ridiculously funny, so I laughed maniacally as I continued to limp up the hill.
I finally made it into the hotel, but not before re-injuring the muscle in my right leg. I was very relieved to just collapse in a bed rather than setting up camp, though I did have to lug all my gear and bicycle up to the second floor -- all the first floor rooms were for smokers. I cleaned and oiled my bike, ordered a pizza and slept. Despite the exhaustion, I was really enjoying the challenge and the scenery of my trip.