Mount Weather century ride from The Plains, VA

Photoblogging at 20 MPH

Went on a great century ride Sunday.  I brought my camera, and kept it strapped around my wrist for nearly the whole time.  Added a new element of novelty & fun to what was my 5th century ride in as many months (training for my May 1st Ironman). Click on photos to see full-sized shots.

We parked in the parking lot of this Post Office in The Plains, VA, about an hour from Arlington, and hit our saddles at about 7:10:

The neon gang departs through downtown The Plains -- this is pretty much all of it -- a block from the P.O. 

This photo like most this day was taken from my moving bicycle so the quality isn't always great. On the other hand, the blurriness is a good expression of how I feel that early in the morning.

The sun was rising just as we began spinning.  So far the ride was flat and easy, but we were all well aware we would be doing a significant climb up the Blue Ridge later in the day. Far to the west the Blue Ridge was just visible. 

First couple of miles.  Fall colors as the sun came up.

 

Heaven's gate? 

 
We were certainly in heaven on this gorgeous day on these smooth, newly paved roads. Entering the town of Middleburg, VA.

A nice looking house in Middleburg. (And the shadow of a cyclist in the morning sun.)

Bill Berlin flouts his snazzy new pink & orange handlebar tape.  Nice complement to his signature polka-dot jersey. Behind him is Bill Murray and pulling up the rear (AGAIN!) Dave Phillips. 

"Everything that we see is a shadow cast by that which we do not see" - Martin Luther King. 

 

(I'm not a Platonist myself but that quote sounded good here.)

Oops how did we end up here?

A 6-mile detour after a missed turn, that's how (speaking of things we don't see).  But I think Phillips was glad to get the rest.

A pretty willow tree.

Okay I was joking earlier about Dave Phillips.  If he's in back, it's because he wants to be in back.  Despite his unassuming manner Dave can crush any of us on a bicycle at will. (Or in running -- this is a guy who once ran a 2:20 marathon.  Though, I still got him in the water at least for now).

Here is Dave Turvene one of my two fellow Ironman trainees.  He's the one who had the idea to do a Mount Weather ride -- great idea! But, it would prove a tough day for Turvene. 

Murray enjoying the visual pastorale.

Never seen a black & white polka dot horse before.  Must have some zebra & some leopard in his family.

Berlin has some obsession with Frogtown, a semi-mythical town just on the other side of the Blue Ridge from where we'd be riding.  Something to do with its alleged population of mutant babes from outer space as chronicled in some B-movie.  I tried to route our ride through there on his behalf but the roads were dirt so I couldn't make it work.  But we did manage to hit a Frogtown *road* -- it would have to do.

The balloons? Must be some kind of signal. . .

I kinda liked this little house.  Mainly I took this picure to see if my camera still worked after I DROPPED it onto the highway -- CRACK! -- at 20 MPH. 

A piece or two came off and it's a little banged up but seems to work okay.

Another pretty house.  Getting closer to that Blue Ridge. . .

Self-portrait in shadow & asphault

A cool house on Rokeby Rd.

Another cute little home...

Fall colors in motion.  I was the one in motion (not the house), thus the blur.

Every shot I took was a tradeoff between slowing down to make a stab at composing the shot and keeping my hand steady, and having to pedal hard afterwards to catch up with the groupe.  Usually I erred on the side of not getting dropped.

Despite all the bucolic scenery of course, most of the time my visual field looked something like this: 

Gotta watch that road. Had to be careful taking pictures, didn't want to end up in . . .

A cemetery on the left as we approach Snickersville Turnpike which would take us to Mt. Weather.

Snickersville turnpike and Airmont Rd. -- our first chance to fuel up. But we kept riding.

A house just looks nicer when it needs a little paint IMHO.

Another pleasing house - more finished but still not too manicured.

Then there's houses like this - yuck.  Just too new and too neat for my taste. 

'Course these McMansions are pretty damned nice & convenient usually on the *inside*.  But hey, I was out on the street on a bike. Give me shabby rural authenticity.

Had to snap this Washington Capitals flag for my hockey-obsessed sons (even if I couldn't slow down enough to focus).  Still on Snickersville Turnpike, just outside Bluemont.

 

Bluemont General Store at the base of Mt. Weather.  We didn't stop here either, planning to refill our bottles at a store at the *top* of the mountain.  (Unfortunately, we missed that store as it was off the road). 

The climb begins.

Here's a shot looking up the main Mt. Weather climb.  In case you can't tell, that road goes UP. Photos never do these hills justice.

All told I think the climb was about 1,000'.  Once on top of the Blue Ridge I got this nice view over the other side to the west.  (Those two trees look like a couple, also enjoying the view.)

In 1972, a a TWA airliner descended too early for a Dulles landing in low-visibility conditions and smashed into the blue ridge next to the road here.  All 92 souls aboard perished. 

I stopped here a few minutes to think about the people living out there who probably miss some of the people on that plane every single day.  Gotta enjoy every moment, you just never know what's around the corner, as my grandmother says.

We did a pretty good job of that this day.

Soon thereafter we passed by the spooky government let's-go-underground-until-the-nuclear-war-is-over facility at Mt Weather. On our bike rides we sometimes used to joke (like the rest of America) about Cheney's undisclosed location; this actually could have been it. Supposedly most of the Congressional leadership was brought here on 9/11. 

After riding along the Blue Ridge for 10 or 11 miles, we descended into the miniscule town of Paris, Virginia. 

By this time, four hours into the ride, several of our groupe were in dire need of water. Unfortunately -- or maybe I should just say inconveniently -- Paris had an antique store, a church, and a high-class restaurant, but no rural mini-mart where we could buy Gatorade and high-carb junk food. 

I wandered down the street to see if there were any hoses or other prospects for water.  No water - but Paris also had some very nice homes:

Nice, if maybe even a little too saccharinely picturesque -- I like the one right across the street, it's got a bit more of an edge:

 

So I think that's about 50% of the town of Paris, Virginia you've just seen. 

When I wandered back to the groupe, they were all being given bottles of water by the proprietors of the Ashby Inn (1829) who had somehow learned of our need in my brief absence. When I rode up they went back in and brought me one.  Wow what hospitality, that's a place I'll have to come back and stay (and eat!) at.  Here's Will Colston my other fellow Ironman trainee enjoying a bottle of Ashby Inn water, with Murray behind him:

What fine water it was, too. Here is the new, less thirsty groupe:

Then it was back on the road.  Just miles and miles of nice roads like this:

Actually that shot was partway up Naked Mountain, the second big climb of our route.  Looking back down.  It's not that I wanted a rest, I just had to stop for the sake of capturing the scene. 

Here's a cool little abode:

Here's Dave Turvene creeping over the crest of Naked Mountain.

When Turvene reached me he informed me that that mountain had "done him in" -- he was bonking.  Well no wonder -- he'd run the Marine Corps Marathon only 2 weeks earlier. In my book a pretty bold move to tackle this ride. 

I coasted the rest of the way down the mountain -- which was a good descent ruined, because the surface was loose gravel, like this:

Not only bumpy as hell, but very dangerous for cyclists. Especially since there was suddenly all this traffic on this road in the middle of nowhere. Probably people going here:

That was not the main entrance to the orchard, you might have gathered.

At the bottom Phillips and I said goodbye to Murray, Colston and Berlin, who were planning to do the 80-mile route (aka the "mini-ride").

They stayed by their turnoff to wait for Turvene (who as he later told me perked up with the help of a gel and felt okay until shortly before returning the The Plains when he bonked again -- ouch, we've all been there). 

Phillips and I set off and this was my view for much of the remaining 45 miles:

The rest of the ride was pretty much continuous rollers, and I was tired but was surprised at how much strength I did have in my legs this day. I consciously took it easy the first 60 miles and I think that helped a lot.

Here was a home that caught my eye:

My off-kilter camera together with the leaning trees makes it look like there's some big hurricane about to carry the house away -- but on this day there was virtually no wind which was nice.

Did I mention that the weather was gorgeous? 

I took that shot accidentally; found about 6 "sky shots" in my camera after the ride.  But, as you can see, not a cloud in the sky. 

Here's a church we passed, more or less in the middle of nowhere:

 

Seemed maybe a little out of place at first but I decided I like it.  It does go well with that tree. 

The morning's shadows have now given way to November's noonday sun:

Why did the farmer win an award?

Because he was out standing in his field. Hahaha.

At mile 82 of our ride, Phillips and I found this heavenly rural store & gourmet sandwich shop (the Orlean Market & Restaurant in Orlean, VA) and stopped for some much-needed fuel. 

For me that meant a cheeseburger.  Not usually recommended before 25 miles of hilly riding but I have a strong stomach.  Dave had a grilled cheese.

 
Here we have a gap in the photographic record as I biked 25 miles of rollers -- nothing but up and down. At one point a road we were on (Cliff Mills) turned into dirt, so we took the other fork in the road, which was paved, a road named "Piney Mountain Road."  I was pretty tired at this point and said to Dave uneasily, "I think this road will take us where we need to go, but I don't like roads that have the word 'Mountain' in their name."  Sure enough, it brought us to a pretty big climb, almost as big as Naked Mountain (probably not but so it seemed at the time). 

However I survived with a lot of help from Dave who pulled me much of the way home. I'd kinda lost my enthusiasm by this point for a lot of fiddling around with my camera. So no pictures of that stretch, which is probably just as well, readers, as you are no doubt as fatigued of this photoblog by now as I was of rolling hills at mile 90 just north of Warrenton Virginia on Sunday.

Back in the parking lot!

106 miles under our belts, none the worse for wear but ready for a rest. The time stamps on these photos read 2:50, or 7 hours 40 minutes after our departure. 

What a great day!  In addition to getting in some great training, by the end of a 100-mile bike ride you have just seen *so much of the world*.  Perhaps the slight little glimpses of our ride that I have provided here can convey a little bit of the sense of that.

Comments

[steve]

cool documentation of what looked like a fun ride. nice simultaneous riding and snapping of pics!

[Good Karma]

Fabulous photo journey indeed!

Next time you are in our delightful little town of Paris, come visit us and we'll give you all the water and food you all need...ride on friends and enjoy our beautiful country roads!

Boneta Reserve & Notre Amour
Paris, Virginia