202.4 miles (323.84 kilometers) logged these past two weeks in increments of 20 to 30 miles per ride.
105.1 miles (168 kilometers) of the rides have been down in Fauquier, the county below us, specifically for the fabulous paved roads which have downright spectacular views and are lightly traveled with very friendly motorists. The remaining 97.3 miles (156 kilometers), often with my neighbor, have been around our exquisite local gravel roads which are serenity incarnate, comprised of the most exquisite views found anywhere, and so sweet to ride after the rains have dampened the dust.
Our farm has been keeping us very busy mostly mowing, gardening, mowing, summer projects (painting, mulching, and replacing old fences), riding the horses, mowing, sewing, and... did I mention mowing? We have a lot of fields. They are all growing a terrific crop of pasture grass.
So getting out and riding meant morning runs because the afternoon heat and humidity has been a killer.
The paved roads of the county below us. What it feels like to ride through heaven, just admiring each beautiful view that comes into sight, for miles and miles and miles. And sharing the happiness with the few motorists who also are traveling these roads. All of us, bound together by, and graciously sharing, the beauty around us.
A Loudoun County gravel road perspective, this one with a cotton candy cloud sky edged by a blue border of what would appear to be a graceful ballet of waves on an ocean rather than a solid immutable fortress of ancient mountains. This view never fails to delight, no matter what season, weather, or time of day. This is one view along one of my favorite loops - a simple 10 miles "down one road and back up another road" ride.
The endless miles of stone walls of Fauquier County. Most are so old that they predate the past 200 years. The unique post and rail configuration over the wall was to prevent livestock (cows and horses) from climbing over the stone walls and breaking them down. The crossed posts concept dates back to colonial times - two posts would be slanted towards each other, their bases on opposing sides of the wall, their tops wired together where they crossed each other. The rails (either one or two) would be hung on the wire at each end. The construction eliminated the need to plant the posts in the ground, and thus was easy to do, saving time and work to install.
Over time Mother Nature would rearrange the stone walls at her discretion, usually quite artistically, if you want to put it poetically, with random sections here and there succumbing to the inevitable chaos of gravity and prostrate homage to Father Time. Then humans would come along and do their own rearranging, generally in a far most geometric pattern of strict no nonsense lines and laser level courses.
I love these endless stone walls. I find them delightfully entertaining, intriguingly complex, and quite "chummy" with the landscape. They work quite well with the palette and paintbrush I carry around in my mind
It did seem that the art of estate maintenance has been on full display lately. My hat is off to these workers who are out in the heat, busy ensuring that the old fences are replaced with new and landscapes are groomed into putting their best foot forward for the likes of myself to enjoy. It's a hot, sweaty job, but the workers, one and all, were happy to exchange waves hello and smiles as I cruised by, little knowing I had complete empathy with them. Been there, done that, every season, every year.
My neighbor at the end of the road has been having fun dressing her little pig statue in the lastest pandemic styles. I'm curious to see what Miss Piggy will be wearing for the 4th of July.