May 22 Update

Hostel in Troutdale

View from hostel

Elk Garden Hostel and church

It's 1:00 on Monday in Haysi, Va. I'm at the public library taking a break. I had lunch a little convenience store in Sandlick. It turns out that a lot of these little stores have small kitchens where they make takeout food. They are generally way better than a McDonald's or a Hardee's. I drank two bottles of V-8 juice as well. My wife told me to eat healthy and eat plenty of vegetables. Two bottles equals 6 servings, so there you go Kathy. Actually I've been drinking a lot of V-8, and Maybe the best thing I've eaten all week was one of those huge loose kosher pickles from Kroger in Christianburg. I sweat so much I crave the salt in both these foods.

Here's what's been going on since my last post. I wrote these updates  when I didn't have internet, so now I'm copying them to the blog, or at least I'll try.

May 19, 2017
I'm writing this from the front porch of a bicycle/hiker hostel at the Troutdale Baptist Church. I only rode 37 miles today. I got here about 11:00 this morning, and decided I needed a good rest. Plus, I have two sores on my butt cheeks about the size of silver dollars. They are quite painful, I've had to wear double bike shorts for the last two days . I guess I will have to wait for callouses to form before they quit hurting. But enough scatalogical references, the real hurt is that my riding partner for the last 7 days went on without me. A nice young man, I'm going to miss the company. I probably will not see him again, he's stronger than me and has to finish by August 1st.

Here's what it's been like for the past few days. I'm writing on my tablet and I will copy my post when I find service. I mention this because I don't have my blog in front of me and I might repeat myself.  Anyway, the scenery has been beautiful. We've spent most of the last few days in the valley below The Blue Ridge Parkway, paralleling I-81. It's rolling country varying from lush open bright geen pastures to shaded roads running alongside rivers and streams. A typical stretch will follow a good sized stream along a wooded road, then, as the stream narrows the land opens up and the road rolls up and over ridges that run down to the stream. You follow this ever narrowing river, creek, brooke, trickle, until it finally peters  out and you finish with a sharp incline to the gap. We might spend an hour or more climbing up the valley, then spend 10 minutes going down the other side only to repeat the whole process again. The wild flowers and not so wild flowers in people's yards a really pretty right now. There is a constant display of Blackberry blossoms and wild geraniums with there lavender flowers standing up taller than the high grass gone to seed. The Black locust, sourwood, princess tree, and Catawba trees are in bloom as well. In fronts of houses along the way are large patches of Peonies, Irises, and roses in bloom. The gardens are tended and the potatoes are eighteen inches high.

I'm developing a good left side sunburn from traveling west everyday with the sun slightly to the south. I guess I'll need to turn around in Astoria and come back to even it out.

Today we left the valleys and climbed back into the mountains. After about 25 miles of ups and downs, it was all up through dense  shaded mountain forest, then a flaming downhill into Troutdale. Troutdale takes up about as much realestate as it does map space. There's the Troutdale Baptist church (newer one on the left and old frame one up on the hill to the right), a few houses, and an abandoned store, and, I'm told, a library and a post office. The library may be a misprint on the map. The Baptist church built this hostel for hikers and bikers. It has a bunkhouse with plywood bunks and showers in the back of the old church. They supply towels, and clean pillow cases for the pillows. There's a coffee pot with coffee, and a microwave. The portapotties are clean and there is running water outside. There are good people in the world! A couple of hikers drove up to stay at the hostel and begin hiking the next day, and later they drove off in search of a place to eat. They brought me a couple of cheeseburgers, when they returned, so no beanie weenies for me.

I also had a visitor from home today. My next door neighbor, Bill Meeker, went to Kentucky to pick up a new puppy, and he stopped by the hostel on his way home. It was great to see him.

Tomorrow I'll leave early with a fairly short 40 miles in front of me to a Church at Meadowview on the other side of Damascus. I'll probably eat lunch in Damascus, but it is trail days weekend there, so it will be very busy..
What's a travel blog without a description of the people you meet! Day before yesterday we met a mother and her 16 year old daughter from Texas doing the Trans-Am (henceforth the TA). We met a newlywed couple from England doing  the TA for their honeymoon. I met a broke and homeless 51 year old guy from West Virginia in the Wythville  park where we stayed last night. I try to help people like that when I can, so I gave him some money. When I started to walk uptown a little while later, he asked me to bring him some beer. I told him no, he would have to get it himself and drink it somewhere else. I didn't want to abuse the hospitality of the town letting us camp in the park. I don't think the less of him for wanting to spend his money for beer. Everybody wants a little pleasure in life, and when you are that hard up you take what you can get. One thing that has struck me in these tiny hamlets we have passed through is how beaten down the residents seem to be. Young and old, you see them get out of there cars, head down and grim faced, going into the one and only store in town for there morning coffee or cigarettes. This morning we were sitting in front of a place like this when this old man in a rusted out pickup truck drove up. He gave us the once-over reserved for bicyclists in spandex and neon yellow, crunched open the door, lifted his left leg out of the truck with the help of his arms, and said to us in the slowest, deepest drawl you've ever heard, " Bicycle,......I used to ride a bicycle..... Ten speed.... Ride it up to????? "(unintelligible). He shuffled on into the store with his untied clodhoppers and we continued to eat. Just as we were leaving, I had my back to him, but I heard him mention to Malcolm that he is 79 years old. And you wonder why I'm out here doing this!


May 21 update
I'm taking the day off. I got in to the Elk Garden Methodist Church yesterday about 4:30 in the afternoon. I had a pretty hard ride of about 56 miles, including one very tough climb of 1500 feet in three miles. The Elk Garden church is a beautiful brick church built in the 18 hundreds about 30 miles from Damascus. They have been hosting bicycle tourists for at least 20 years. When I arrived, there was a sign on the door welcoming me in and instructing me to make myself at home, take a shower, and help myself to the food in the well stocked kitchen.
I took a shower in the outside shower stall (cold water only), got a ginger ale out of the fridge and sat down to read. Some time later, a lady drove up and began unloading supplies for a breakfast for the newly graduated high school students of the church (2). Sarah (her name) and I moved tables around and put out decorations for the event. She graciously invited me to join them for breakfast, and I  of course accepted.
I got a good night's sleep on the church sanctuary floor. The floor was carpeted, and the room was quite and peaceful. This morning I rolled out of bed, put on my least objectionable attire, put my stuff away, made coffee and waited for the crowd to arrive. I love pot luck meals, way more good food than the crowd can possibly eat. They made sure I put aside a big plateful for later in the day.
The church service started at 10:00 (early so that the minister can get to his second church afterwards). I sat in the choir loft and sang with the other four choir members in attendance. We sang a couple of hymns I had never heard before, and of course there was no practice beforehand because of the breakfast, but I thought we sounded as good as could be expected. The preacher preached a very good sermon based on the concept of the holy spirit, then left us to finish up while he traveled to his next gig.
So now I'm alone in the church, reading and letting my sore butt heal, while I wait for the rain to move on and I can start out fresh and dry in the morning.
Here are a few random observations about my trip so far.
I have found the motorists to be generally more considerate in Virginia than back at home. With only a few exceptions, they have passed cautiously and waited patiently for the opportunity. Even the bane of all bike riders, pick-up trucks and muscle cars,  have shown unusual restraint. Maybe it's just because they are used to seeing bicycle tourists on the roads. In turn I have tried to be considerate of them by moving to the right when it's safe to do so, and often pulling over to stop and let them go by. I usually try to wave as they go by as well. One thing I would love to hear as a car approaches from behind is a gentle toot on the horn. When did the car horn became a tool to be used only to exhibit a drivers displeasure with someone else. Anyway, I hope my good experiences with drivers continues on into Kentucky and beyond.
We live in a sadly fearful society, and it's refreshing to have people like the members of this congregation open there doors to me and welcome me with no reservations. I know there are bad people out there and there can be dire consequences if you cross their path, but overall, statistically, the chances of a bad encounter are rare.

I wish I had learned to play the piano, this is the second church where there is one right here with me, and I can't play it. Maybe I'll take lessons when I get home, just what I need, another hobby.