Job Rides a Trek 520, a Gatorade, and You Can't Have Your Cake...

Day: 11 (Meadowview, VA to Breaks, VA)
Average Speed: 8.7 MPH
Miles Cycled Today: 68.2 (extremely difficult [for me])
Miles Cycled Total: 579
Mood: Wet and Content

What are the chances of coming across this totally apt window painting?

If there's such thing as an enjoyable slog, that's how I would characterize today. 

At breakfast with the Fizers (my impromptu hosts last night), Rebecca commented on my route for the day. "You're going over that mountain? I don't even want to do that in a car!" 

Rebecca, not only am I going over that mountain, but I'm doing it in a friggin' hurricane. 

Not two moments after I had said my goodbyes and thank-yous, a vicious rainstorm set in that didn't let up until evening. 

Here's part of a text between Hanna and me (I hope you can appreciate how long it took me to censor one word of the message just so you can uncensor it in your head): 

I never did find that candle.

Add to that the five difficult peaks I crossed (check out today's terrain map), and you have yourself one wet and tired birthday boy. 

Today's Route

Warning about the Appalachians

I was dreading the first and toughest of today's climbs in Hayter's Gap. But somehow, I actually wound up enjoying it. I don't know an awful lot about The Bible, but I was reminded of the story of Job in the Old Testament (that's the version where God is a bit mean, right?) - As I hit the foot of the mountain, the rain started coming down in buckets and I heard a clap of thunder. Channeling the Bible Belt, I smiled and took it like a champ. 

Job had it much worse.

About halfway through the climb, I stepped off the bike for safety purposes in order to allow a utility truck to pass (not only is that road steep and switchbacked, but it's narrow to boot). The truck didn't pass though. Instead, it stopped beside me with the window rolled down. 

Me and Great People at the Top of the Hayter's Gap Climb

"How long 'til I get to the top of this thing?" I asked, panting and soaking wet. They laughed, and one guy pointed the opposite direction, suggesting I head back down. 

"Throw your bike in the back and hop in!" said the driver. 

I'm not saying I won't accept this type of help if I need it in the future, but I certainly didn't need it then. The thought of getting a ride to the top of that mountain in a dry vehicle- and you might not believe this- wasn't even the slightest bit tempting.

"That would be cheating!" I said. And they laughed again. 

They told me it was two more uphill miles, and they'd be there waiting for me with a cold drink. 

Indeed they were there, and I was pumping my fist when I saw them (I may have shouted "Adrian!!!" for added effect). Sure enough, one of the workers was holding out an unopened bottle of Gatorade (if you've never had the Cucumber Lime flavor, stop what you're doing immediately and hunt one down).

These are folks who were laid off from the coal mining industry and scraping by with whatever work they could find. They echoed the previous night's conversation in which the Fizers explained that most of this part of Virginia is destitute due to the extreme and sudden cutbacks in coal production. 

But, in telling me their story, these guys shrugged and said, "What're ya' gonna do?" 

Giving up a Cucumber Lime Gatorade to a passerby- that's like giving up gold. 

Before I headed down the fun side of the mountain, one of them said "We might be hillbillies over here, but we're good people."

Truer words were never spoken. 

Thanks, guys. I hope you're reading this. 

Top of Climb #2

However, they weren't through with generosity. Three hours later, Chris Culley (rightmost in the picture) pulled over on his way home from work to greet me again. This time, he offered a cold bottle of water and words of encouragement. I was on major climb #2 of the day and was just as spent as I was the first time I met him. Perfect timing for an ice cold water. 

People continue to amaze me. 

After that second peak, the route took a strange turn. It led me from the road not traveled to something that resembles an interstate highway, and then onto a busy two-laner with virtually no shoulder. 

To fully appreciate this, check out a vid that shows a few legs of today's trip. NOTE: Steepness of grades and harshness of weather cannot be properly conveyed through this camera and the way it's mounted. Whatever it looks like, multiply by 10. At least. And don't make fun of me. I'm sensitive. 

I didn't want to camp tonight. Both me and my gear were just too... wet... to fathom the idea of

View from the Top of Breaks. Can You Find the Saddle?

getting wetter. But in order to get to a motel, I had to make it to the town of Breaks. See that terrain map? Where it says torture? I was physically and mentally spent in the town of Haysi- 10 miles before Breaks- and I still had to cross three crazy-steep mini mountains to get to where I am now. Self. Induced. Torture. 

On another note, throughout today's ride I occasionally sought coverage in church parking lots (there's a church every 1/2 mile or so- no exaggeration- and most of them encourage cyclists to stop if they need shelter). During these stops- when cell service was available- I was able to check Facebook, e-mail, and receive a few texts. 

Thank you so much for the birthday wishes and cycling related messages. It meant a lot. Really. 

Nobody tops Hanna for a birthday message though. I know I talk about her a lot, but she's a constant source of encouragement and laughter for me- a major part of every day. 

And nothing made me smile today more than the birthday cake she got for me back in New York (not even that Gatorade). The accompanying video (in the text message- not included here) of Lina having a slice was a fantastically funny gift. I ate my cake vicariously through her. 

Texted Pic from Hanna: Lina Trying Very Hard to Ignore My Cake

When she came to visit just a few days ago, Hanna brought me two birthday cards. I asked why she

Two Birthday Cards from Hanna

got an extra, and she said she was trying to make up for the fact that I'd be alone on my birthday. 

Listen... I'll be the first to admit that I am a loner. A social loner (if there is such a thing). 

"You're not going with anyone?" was probably the second or third most popular comment (after "Did you pack a spare tube?") when friends, family, and co-workers found out about this trip. But rest assured- 

I enjoy being alone. 

I always have.

And I promise you, as I sit here and type this blog by myself in a motel at the rural and sparsely populated border of Virginia and Kentucky...

I am not in the least bit lonely. 

Thank you all for a wonderful birthday. 

P.S.

Ummmm... Actually....