Overnight from Friday to Saturday there was some heavy rain. Again, lucky it was during the night, and I can maintain my unbroken record of 66 days of cycling without a drop of rain. Try to beat that, Scotland! Then, in the morning it was crisp and cold, requiring 4 layers of clothing. Although I was at times tempted, now I was glad I didn't dump any of my clothes, even when it was 40°C.
As I cycled along, I was hoping that T. and D. would decide against coming that way. They definitely weren't equipped for that. However, I had no way of contacting and warning them. I felt bad and just kept my fingers crossed. Direction Florida or Louisiana would probably suit them better.
Before I left, I also checked on Tom and he sounded OK. Since he has survived for 92 years, he must be resilient and resourceful. I felt OK leaving HIM.
Otherwise, another shortish ride but with a change of plans. I am sitting in a motel now, rather than camping, because the campsite no longer exists. I feel as if I am slacking. Anyway, Virginia is definitely easier cycling terrain, so I am getting to my destination earlier, which gives me time to write up the blog.
On Friday, although it involved over 4,200 feet of climbing, I felt that the weather really suited me. It was Goldilocks weather, not too hot and not too cold. So I arrived at the church hostel in Troutdale, VA in good time and not tried out at all. Anyway, I got organized, cooked my dinner, and since there was no phone reception, settled down with my Kindle.
It was all quiet, peaceful and getting dark, when suddenly, there was someone crashing about in the other room of the hostel. I went to investigate and found this guy hobbling about. It turned out to be a 92 year old hiker named Tom, who had been wild camping up in the hills for 4 days, and on the way down, had fallen and sprained his ankle.
He had then gone for a meal in a local restaurant, but couldn't really eat because he was shaking too much due to delayed shock reaction. They had offered to call an ambulance but he point blank refused. He knew that if his daughter would hear of this, she would put him under house arrest for good. The waitress even offered to put him up for the night, but you know how stubborn and independent old people are. So he came to the hostel, which really was just two rooms with wooden platforms. He clearly had a sprained ankle which was swelling up nicely but could move about and otherwise seem alright, and he refused to take anything from my Firstaid box.
Anyway, it was interesting to hear a bit about his life. Again growing up in poverty during the depression in Indiana, getting drafted at 19 and going to Korea, and then, for almost 40 years working as a trucker all over the States. Whilst I have read about the Korean war, meeting someone who has actually been there was fascinating.
Since retirement, his hobby has been hiking. He would drive to a trailhead, park his truck, walk for two days and then turn around. Very sensible, as this meant that he didn't need any pickups and dropoffs. Tom reminded me a bit of Vati, although he wasn't as interested in other people as Vati is. Anyway, I will check on him before I set off tomorrow morning.
On Thursday, after I posted the blog, D. and T., from Missouri pulled up at the church. They were heading East as well, although at a slightly more leisurely pace, maybe doing half my daily miles. They were both women/bi in their mid twenties and it was interesting to hear about their experience of growing up in rural America.
D.'s parents had met in an extreme Christian cult which strongly influenced her upbringing and attitude to Christianity, in fact completely spoiling it. Before setting out on this trip she had been working on farms in New Mexico with the Worldwide Opportunities on Organic Farms (WWOOF).
T., being mixed race, also talked about the challenges growing up in a mainly white, in her own words, redneck community. In the UK we do read about police attitude to black people in the States, but it is another matter to hear someone speak from personal experience. Although during the trip nothing negative happened, when she spoke it reminded me of you, Hilary, talking about walking down a dark street as a woman. Cycling along you regularly see Confederate flags. To me, they are nothing special but to T., they immediately call for extra vigilance. In fact, planning the trip, she checked out the location of Ku Klux Klan chapters, and there are a number of them along the route, and trying to avoid these specific towns. In my view this was a bit over the top, but then I didn't grow up as a black/mixed race person in redneck, rural America.
Both talked about the challenges of finding permanent, fulfilling work that pays the bills, and dealing with society's expectations and restrictions. In fact, like many young people in Britain, T. was moving back in with her dad as she couldn't afford a place of her own.
They were both struggling with many of the same issues as young people in Britain, but for T., added to that was being black/mixed race. They also having to deal with the residual impact of cult membership and, in T.'s case, crack addiction within the family. Many of the issues were rather alien to me, so it was interesting to hear first-hand accounts.
T. was only the second non-white person on the trip. The other was the woman from Londonderry, who was second generation Indian, and I met in Eads, CO on Day 35. I asked her why she thought cycle touring was such a white middle-class activity. Her view was that it was partly economical but also culturally. Whilst I would think 'Why Not?', many of the people she talked to would say 'Why would you?'.
The two of them in many ways weren't the traditional TA cyclists I have met so far. They were definitely travelling on a shoestring, with T. using food stamps and their gear was very much DIY. Also, they didn't seem to have enough warm clothing. I mentioned hypothermia to them and they looked completely surprised. I know from experience that a bit of rain, some wind and a small drop in temperature can chill you to the bones, making it really dangerous. A bit more about that later.