The elevation chart seems benign enough, but trust me when I say if you weren't going up, you were going down. Usually at a breakneck speed. Even with an ebike - of which there were many in the crowd of 200+ cyclists at the ride - it was a tough ride. And that was on the paved roads. I heard the gravel routes were even rougher.
We were sent off at 9am sharp, 200+ strong, an endless line of colorful cycling shirts and sleek bikes taking over the roads in a choreography of spinning wheels,,spinning pedals, and happy grins.
But the views! Oh, the views! Rappahannock County, Virginia snuggles up to the spectacular Shenandoah National Park, and shares the rolling foothills of the majestic Blue Ridge Mountains that form the backbone of one of America's first, and most popular, national parks.
The day was spectacular, too. I don't know who called in the favor from the weather gods, but the temps and sunshine were simply perfect. Cool enough to ride off without a jacket, but just on the edge of needing it packed in the panniers. My jacket stayed in those panniers the entire 34 miles because, after a summer of excruciating heat and humidity, I was jubilant with the delicious Autumn coolness and didn't want to hide from it.
This is one of my favorite charity rides with a great organization hosting the ride, and a crowd of happy, friendly cyclists out to enjoy the rural roads and the views. Oh, the views!!
This older gentleman was going to pause to let me take a shot of the scenery, but i told him I wanted him in the shot as well. He looked really beat from the ride already (we were about 8 miles from the finish) but gave me a generous smile, and obliged.
Stopping midway to take a photo. Don't remember where exactly, but I do remember the mountains being much closer and much higher than my camera recorded. You can't see it in the photo, but the foreground is a steeply rolling set of slopes heading down to a dry run. There was a big farm tractor parked under the tree, quietly waiting for its owner to return to continue moving the line of round haybales, one by one, into a barn just beyond the boundaries of this photo. But it was the mountains I wanted to remember. No matter what this photo implies, those mountains were big!
The 34/60 mile route co-joined the entire 34 miles except at one juncture the 60 mile route looped in some adjacent roads before reconnecting with the 34. As the sign above testifies, we were cruising along roads that had seen a major part of the American Civil War played out in the early 1860s. So strange to look over this peaceful, bucolic landscape and think about a war taking place a century and a half ago on these very fields
George Washington, the American general who lead the colonial revolt against the British crown in 1776, was still alive, but barely as he would die 3 years later, when this town was founded. George had become such a hero to his nation as it's leading general and first President, that a venerable blizzard of towns founded in the early 1900s the US were graced with his name. 31 counties, 241 townships, and at least 94 towns are called Washington. His entrenchment in our society is pretty much unshakable. That man's memory is everywhere.
Shortly after the above picture was taken, the road climbed one of steepest, longest hills on the route. I wasn't about to challenge that hill's authority, so the bike went into turbo mode until the parking lot was in sight.
The perfect ending to a perfect day.
The guy parked next to us had a unique method of packing his bike (with a hub motor) in his BMW convertible. It was entertaining to watch him unpack, and later repack his bike, while happily chatting with us the entire time. I took a whole series of photos of his car performing a venerable ballet of automated top folding and trunk closing duets that was mesmerizing to watch. He was quite funny, trying to remember how he had packed everything to begin with, all the while complaining his back was killing him and he didn't know why. Mine was too, a bit, so it had to be from climbing the endless hills.
My new Rivian electric truck was a joy to drive the 100+ mile round trip to the ride site, and looked quite smashing with the Gazelle ebike. We had quite a few people come up to see the truck, and they all got a kick out of seeing the bike painted the same color.
It was a spectacular ride, spectacular morning, spectacular start to the Fall cycling season.
Next week is the Gravel Grinder. I'm signed up for the metric century, and luckily for me the first aid station is a half mile from our farm so I can slip on home to swap batteries, which means I won't have to carry an extra. My neighbor has entered in the 22 mile family group ride, so we'll do the first part of the ride together before I head off on the longer route. The forecast for next Saturday is calling for rain. If the weather turns miserable I'll drop to the half metric century and stick closer to home.