One plan, two ebikes, and 61 miles
I could also title this: "One glorious afternoon, Two stellar ebikes, and 61 delightful miles."
Either way, it fits with a great morning and afternoon of riding, joining a massive well spaced crowd of other cyclists out to enjoy the countryside.
Stats first, then story:
I had one day, brilliant sunshine, warm temps, and12 hours to enjoy a lovely day before the relentless rains became even more relentless and moved back in to make an already soggy landscape even soggier (if that's a real word?). It should have been a day enjoyed in Maryland on a charity ride, but all the Spring rides had either been cancelled or postponed until the fall, no thanks to the ravaging virus that had the entire US under a no groups rule, and a stay at home mandate.
So with my original plans for the day knocked into the latter part of the year, I had a new plan. 12 hours all to myself. Just me and my bikes. And the roads. Well, not the roads to myself, per say, because, let's be honest, it was on every local and not-so-local cyclists' minds, especially those in the same boat as me with planned group rides being yanked in a flurry of cancellations out from underneath our feet, to descend, enmass, on the roads in our end of the county. Number One because they are beautiful, peaceful, and a joy to ride for miles and miles. Number Two because...well, because of Number One, I guess, plus they are a terrific alternative in lieu of the plethora of cancelled group rides.
As for me - I live in the midst of gravel road cycling heaven, and since I've been spending the last few soggy, rainy days working on setting up the vegetable garden, mowing fields and lawns between the raindrops, and doing farm chores, this perfect Spring day was time to stretch my legs and have some fun. My hubby's idea of fun was to attack the grass under the endless fence lines on our property with a weed wacker, and I was happy to leave him to it. My tracking app pinged his phone as I set off, just so he could see where I was at any time during the day. Social distancing, but still keeping in touch.
The new Vado was the chosen mount for the first 30 miles. I'd spent considerable time yesterday with a tape measure, and my LaFree as the model, to ensure the Vado was dialed in to what I hoped would be my liking.
I got down my driveway and up the road 1/10 of a mile to the neighbor's lane when I stopped for the first time to readjust upwards the height of the seat with the new Kinekt suspension post. Mission accomplished I set off again, got to the end of the road a mile later and stopped for another adjustment. Mission accomplished, I set off again, this time for real.
This new ebike is an absolute joy to ride, and heading south into the next county just ensured that I would have 30 miles of sheer bliss cycling the paved roads through the countryside.
The Fauquier County countryside
Rokeby Road - the paved section
But there was one small deviation in that plan - at the 10 mile point there was a small gravel road off the main route that I'd often peeked down curiously, wondering what it would be like to explore. It was narrow, about 1 car width wide, and hidden between the broad shoulders of two flanking fields. A wild border of brush crowded the already slim road and almost rendered the gravel lane invisible to the casual passerby.
Now what's interesting about this little gravel road is that it's actually a continuation to the wide main paved road that I'd just left a mile back. There were still a few of these "extended dog leg" road continuations left over from eons ago when the roads themselves were created in a rather carefree and chaotic pattern. Most of those early road jog continuations were split and the lesser addition was given a new name so as not to confuse the always easily confused motorists. Not so this road. It still clung with pride to the lofty name Rokeby Road, even though it bore no resemblance to the paved Rokeby Road a mile away. It had the classic resemblance to nothing more than a well used farm lane.
Still it was intriguing, and today, having all the time in the world to myself, I decided to entertain my curiosity. I cautiously turned onto it, a bumpy, slightly rutted surface, unsure of what I'd find for the next 3 miles.
What I found was complete and utter enchantment! No sooner had the paved road behind me disappeared from view, then the little road warned that it was going to narrow even more. I was a bit uncertain of continuing since the road was only one car width wide even at that moment, but when the road dipped into a woods, the gravel shoulders coming closer together to make the road an intimate one, an amazing transformation happened. I'm not sure how to describe it, but....it was almost magical. I looked around, amazed and delighted, as the scenery became the most gorgeous, relaxing, entertaining, and likeable I've ever seen.
The landscape began as rolling pasture land, then changed to rise up around me, high over the road. Hills that looked like giant green gumdrops dwarfed me on both sides as my bike followed the thread of the road into deep woods that closed in around me, their silence draped like a thick cloak of solitude over my shoulders. Angus cattle dotted the slopes of the gumdrop hills, cows with calves staring curiously at me as I passed. I'm sure they were wondering what this strange contraption was rolling down the road, stones crunching under it as it passed. I tried to take a picture of one tagged momma cow watching me while her tiny calf, with identical ear tag to match momma's, peered out from behind the safety of her bulky side. The minute I stopped, however, her maternal instincts went into overdrive and she quickly hustled her baby away.
No photo there, sadly.
So I continued on, following the enchantment, following the road as it led me down, down, and down even further, passing by beautiful old barns, houses hidden behind acres of woods, and whimsical signs designed to provoke a smile and a chuckle.
There is no question about it - this exquisite little gravel road is definitely now on my "Must Ride" list.
After what seemed an eternity crawling down the road's steep descents, my hands tightly clenching the brakes, the road flattened and turned away just before bumping up against a railroad track. A wall of identical rail cars blocked the view, all carrying the exact same cargo of ...what were these things anyway? There seemed to be no start or stop to them. They simply flowed from one car to the next. Metal pipes? No, wait, look at that machine behind the engine. It's...a rail layer. Well, that's what I called it. I'm sure it has some type of official name that perhaps I'll look up later.
Rail cars carrying really long railroad rails. Try saying that three times really fast.
The road ended at an intersection, back into mundane reality, and onto the modern paved roads. I took off on the adjacent road, heading back north towards Upperville. I asked for, and graciously received, some rather breathtaking speed from the bike, and never paused pedaling or waving hello as I passed a number of cyclists and people walking the roads coming the opposite way.
Once back in town I paused for a drink at a stop sign on the main East-West highway. On the opposite side of the road were two cyclists, one sitting on the ground, the other standing strattling his bike, both engaged in conversation as they obviously were resting from a long ride. The one sitting on the ground looked over at me and called out "That's an electric bike!" I was surprised he noticed, then came the next question "How do you like it?" Of course I answered as all ebike owners do: "I love it!". He smiled and replied that it was a beautiful bike. He was right - it is beautiful.
What was missing from that brief conversation was the old "that's cheating!" comment I used to have tossed at me in the past. I thought about that afterwards and I believe the novelty of the electric bike is wearing off to the biking public. As it becomes more mainstream, there is less fear and more acceptance from the old guard. To actually have someone, sitting next to his very expensive road bike, tell me my ebike was beautiful was a high compliment indeed.
It put a smile on my face for the rest of the day, to be sure!
I was approaching the end of my first 30 miles, my intent to have a quick lunch and a pit stop at home before I embarked on the second 30 mile loop with my other ebike, ready to tackle the gravel roads north of me.
In short order lunch was consumed, pit stop was made, juice bottles refilled, and I had hopped on the LaFree, headed down the driveway, waving goodbye to hubby while he walked past, weed wacker in hand, still looking to wack down more innocent grass growing where he deemed it shouldn't be. He was having fun, and I headed off down the road for another 30 miles of my own fun.
The Blue Ridge Mountains on the horizon just 5 miles away as the crow flies
Not surprisingly, on a warm, beautiful Saturday like today, the overwhelming need of the majority to escape the mandated stay at home order saw the gravel roads overflowing with people. So many cyclists passed, a few solo but mostly couples, all smiling and waving. Hordes of walkers, generally paired either with a human partner, or a dog, or both, were out enjoying a chance to stetch their legs on the peaceful byways. It was refreshingly sweet to see so many people out when, in the past, I rarely saw anyone, ever. I think the gravel roads, while offering a measure of safety with their restricted speed, also offer a nostalgia for the "good old days" when the world wasn't in lockdown and the pace of life was our own.
As if it even needs to be said.
My route did take me on a few paved roads, and it was on one of them that I happened to glance in my mirror, and frown. I was sure I saw something behind me at a distance, but wasn't positive. Was it another bike? I kept looking in my mirror, and then finally looked over my shoulder. Yes, yes it was a bike. And it was coming up on me fast. Very fast. Before I could blink the cyclist had reached me and whipped past as if I was standing still. Granted we were now heading downhill, but...gee willikers, that guy was cruising at Mach 3. I happened to glance at his bike as he flashed by. A Cervélo. Very sleek, extremely fast, weighed no more than a toothpick.
Ah, well. To each their own.
Except for the hill in front of us. He had already left me a considerable distance behind, and I saw him downshift and stand in his pedals to try to keep his speed up. This was my road, however, and I knew full well its slope and distance. My competitive nature gave my brain a small nudge. "Are you going to tell me you're going to let him stay ahead of an ebike on this hill?" It nodded its head to the cyclist in front of me, his distance no longer increasing. I gritted my teeth and answered the only answer any self respecting e-cyclist would give.
"Hell, no!"
I hit maximum assist and put everything I had into closing the distance between us. The bike leaped forward, gaining 20mph up the slope almost instantly...then just as abruptly backed off, hands in the air saying any faster speed was up to me. I silently mouthed a couple of scorching words directed at the person chiefly responsible for thinking a Class 1 would be a good idea, and put even greater effort into closing the gap. Fortunately, my road never fails me, and it took the Cervélo rider down enough notches in speed that I caught up to him before we reached the top. I sat up, riding as if there was no effort whatsoever, despite my lungs gasping for air, and smiled with righteous vindication as I passed him, startling him in the process. I casually asked if he was going to continue up the road, and he said no, he was turning to the right at the intersection. I wished him a safe ride, and he did the same to me, the two of us going opposite directions at the intersection. We were both probably relieved to not be going the same way. The contest would have exhausting. He would have won anyway - younger, stronger, faster, and on a lightening fast road bike. I was happy to see him go elsewhere, and dropped back into sightseeing mode, firm in my resolve that the LaFree was going to be jailbroken asap. No more of this 20mph garbage. Time to free the LaFree and recreate it as a Class 3.
My competive spirit now sated, I allowed the peaceful persona of the gravel roads to envelop me again, and the friendly passing of happy people restore my serene mood. At one point I rounded a bend to see two young 20somethings engage in a laughing, impromptu smooch as they strolled together, hand in hand, along the road. I cycled past, remarking with smile "That was sooooo cute!" The gal giggled and her guy gave me with the biggest grin and said without a hint of embarrassment "Thank you!" I swear, that just made me chuckle for the rest of the ride, it was so sweet. Young love. (Sigh)
The 30 miles now drawing to a close, I was back in my own neck of the woods, stopping briefly to greet some of my neighbors that were out and about, and deliberating if I wanted to ride further. I still had a full second battery packed in the panniers, and was pretty sure the Vado at home had fully recharged by now.
But the clouds were increasing, and I ultimately decided that the 60 miles had been delightful fun, but any more would start being a chore. Besides, this ride was more compensation for the 50 miles of the cancelled charity ride in Maryland that I would have been riding today. Any more miles wouldn't have felt right.
I was a mere 2 miles from home when I stopped to pick up some road litter, and after shoving it in my panniers to discard properly later, had mounted up and began pedaling when I heard that familiar refrain "That's an ebike!" I looked back behind me as yet another of the 1,000th husband and wife cycling teams out that day met up with me. It was the husband who announced my bike, giving me the biggest grin as they closed the distance. I smiled. "Absolutely right" I replied, and waited for the next comment which was textbook perfect in delivery. "How do you like it?" Of course, I waxed poetic about the bike's wonderful attributes, and then he said something that made me smile even bigger. "It was fun to watch you ride it!" he said.
I laughed and waved goodbye as I stopped to add another piece of litter to the one in my panniers as they rode away in front of me. I knew I'd catch them in a few moments as there is one tough little hill to surmount on the road. Sure enough, seconds later I was passing, hoping they had a lovely rest of their ride. The husband, still with the biggest grin in his face, replied that they, once again, had had fun watching me ride my electric bike.
I'm glad I ended up being a bright spot in their day.
The hill quickly conquered and long behind me, as were the final husband and wife cycling pair of the day, it was time to head up the driveway and see how hubby had fared in the annual weedwacking war against errant greenery. He claims he won, but we both know the grass will be back. And then it will be time to start up the weedwacker again.
Hopefully, I will, at the same time, be off for another ebike adventure.
The Bluemont General store offerings. Their sandwiches are REALLY good, as is the conversation. Great little store, great staff, great website, too.
When I reach the last upwind point, the last thing I would like to do is more riding 
