We have completed the first 68 miles and, let me tell you, it was NOT a fun 68 miles. Actually, I don't want to be unfair so the first 40 miles were great.
We started in West Virginia...
And rode a whopping 100ft to the Virginia sign just to cover our bases.
The beginning was easy. Besides the fact that it was 30 degrees colder than it has been all summer and we were cruising along at 35mph with a wind chill of freezing, it was quite enjoyable. Mom rode ahead and met us in Covington, 20 miles later.
We then hit our first hill of the ride. And we OWNED it. Don't worry. About mile 40 we met up with our awesome sag wagon driver for lunch.
We made some mistakes.
Mistake one: riding on Main street. I got a flat tire! Luckily, I was carrying a spare and Dad is very good at fixing flats, apparently a lot of practice...
Mistake two: stopping for lunch. Bad Idea. We were feeling those sandwiches for the rest of the ride.
Mistake three: Asking the guy at the gas station what the best way was to get to Lexington.
Mistake four: Trusting dad to trust the guy at the gas station.
"Take this road here. You'll go a ways and then it turns into dirt and you go up a hill. Then about halfway back down it's paved and you can just coast into Lexington."
This man had OBVIOUSLY never ridden a bike in his life. This "hill" that he spoke of was a gravel mountain. That's not even an exaggeration. We were climbing a mountain.
Mom was waiting for us ahead and an hour and a half later, I fell. Of course I fell. I was going about .2mph so it didn't hurt, but it was enough to reset the odometer and cause me to hyperventilate and cry. I don't know which came first or if one caused the other but I was NOT having fun. Once I fell off there was no getting started again. It was too steep and the gravel was too loose. Every time I pedaled, the back tire would spin around once before making contact and pushing me forward. It wasn't worth it. I dismounted and walked. Dad walked a bit but his arthritis in his foot made it so that he HAD to ride, he couldn't walk. Turns out the mountain was four miles. FOUR miles!!!!!!! I rode about half, walked almost the rest, then (ashamedly) rode 3/10 of a mile to the top with Mom in the car.
I couldn't ride down it either (Remember THIS?) So I rode down the two miles to the point where it was paved again, only stopping to take some amazing pictures. I didn't appreciate the view then (Oh, that's a fake smile) but I do now.
Oh, and that's blood on my leg. gross.
We rode the last 12-15 miles to Lexington and we went home.
I was tired, but I was alright, just sore. Then out of nowhere, a couple hours after we got home and I had showered and situated myself comfortably on the couch, my stomach decided to get angry. So angry that the day ended here:
Lynchburg Genral Hospital Emergency Room, every ounce of Gaterade and Oatmeal cookie absent from my body.
We're still not sure what it was. Possibly a negative reaction to the Gaterade. I'm fine, thank you for your concern, but yes, it is horribly embarrassing.
Not a fun way to get my morphine fix.
Hopefully Thursday will be more fun...
