Day 3 - The carrot dangled at the end of the road is Donny
As I'm writing on Day 7, Day 3 is misty. When was that anyway? It seems like hundreds of miles...Oh. It was.
I left Fredericksburg bright and early. It was already warm and muggy though overcast. Let me put this out there: I've fantasized here and there about grabbing my boyfriend and all our shit and moving somewhere "with seasons" as people in LA refer to other places. "Oh, I miss the cold." "I miss pretty leaves changing color." And the like. Sure, sure, I love that stuff in doses. What I do not miss and have early in this journey been slapped in my dry-weather face with is frickin' humidity. If I lived on the east coast, I would never ride my bike, let alone for 90-plus miles like I did on Day 3.
The route between F-burg and Powhatan (outside Richmond) where Jinx lives was humid as hell. Pretty, yes. Mostly back country roads. It's hard to explain why but I did make a wrong turn which ended up adding 7 or 8 miles to an already long day. The mishap happened as soon as I got "off-route" as we say out here on the trail. ("Off-route" takes you away from the play-by-play directions on the maps from the Adventure Cycling Association that everybody who's doing this uses. So Jinx's place took me off route - which is immediately when I fucked up. It wasn't a big deal, and I'm getting better at asking for directions.
I had to cross a river! You hear? A river! The only river in LA is not a real river, and I'm still getting excited by stuff everybody else in the country is used to. My mother, for instance, lives on the Passaic River. I crossed the river on a bridge, by the way - not the wild way you just thought for a second: pushing Whitey Jackson through rapids. The reason it's interesting is because bridge goes right through on of the State of VA's corrections facilities. I found this route on mapmyride.com a while back. Not only are those premises a prison, they're also a farm for the prisoners to work on. Everyobdy wins!
After many texts and phone calls (for some reason, Jinx's newly developed neighborhood is not on google maps though it's been in existence for a couple years), I finally made it - 93 miles from when I started that morning. It was a 10 hour journey (with plenty of breaks) and I was met by Jinx and Donny screaming and banging instruments, shaking maracas (was Anita doing it too or just holding the baby?) - which drove Izzy from the porch in terror. The reception felt slightly undeserved since it was only my third day, and I limply posed for pictures.
I was really happy to see the Mancini clan including newst addition, Tilly. (Super cute, must be said). Jinx is amazingly holding it all together, having already gone back to work with a 2-month old (too bad she doesn't work at Common Ground) and a broken ankle. To be sure, she doesn't look like she gave birth 2 seconds ago. It's all that bike-ridin' she does!
Every dangled carrot must come to an end; mine and Donny's reunion was like a baby carrot - very short and sweet. I took off the next morning for the "real" journey, without the promise of comfort from family or friends for weeks to come.
More in a bit...I have to get my shit out of the dryer and eat something before I die.
I left Fredericksburg bright and early. It was already warm and muggy though overcast. Let me put this out there: I've fantasized here and there about grabbing my boyfriend and all our shit and moving somewhere "with seasons" as people in LA refer to other places. "Oh, I miss the cold." "I miss pretty leaves changing color." And the like. Sure, sure, I love that stuff in doses. What I do not miss and have early in this journey been slapped in my dry-weather face with is frickin' humidity. If I lived on the east coast, I would never ride my bike, let alone for 90-plus miles like I did on Day 3.
The route between F-burg and Powhatan (outside Richmond) where Jinx lives was humid as hell. Pretty, yes. Mostly back country roads. It's hard to explain why but I did make a wrong turn which ended up adding 7 or 8 miles to an already long day. The mishap happened as soon as I got "off-route" as we say out here on the trail. ("Off-route" takes you away from the play-by-play directions on the maps from the Adventure Cycling Association that everybody who's doing this uses. So Jinx's place took me off route - which is immediately when I fucked up. It wasn't a big deal, and I'm getting better at asking for directions.
I had to cross a river! You hear? A river! The only river in LA is not a real river, and I'm still getting excited by stuff everybody else in the country is used to. My mother, for instance, lives on the Passaic River. I crossed the river on a bridge, by the way - not the wild way you just thought for a second: pushing Whitey Jackson through rapids. The reason it's interesting is because bridge goes right through on of the State of VA's corrections facilities. I found this route on mapmyride.com a while back. Not only are those premises a prison, they're also a farm for the prisoners to work on. Everyobdy wins!
After many texts and phone calls (for some reason, Jinx's newly developed neighborhood is not on google maps though it's been in existence for a couple years), I finally made it - 93 miles from when I started that morning. It was a 10 hour journey (with plenty of breaks) and I was met by Jinx and Donny screaming and banging instruments, shaking maracas (was Anita doing it too or just holding the baby?) - which drove Izzy from the porch in terror. The reception felt slightly undeserved since it was only my third day, and I limply posed for pictures.
I was really happy to see the Mancini clan including newst addition, Tilly. (Super cute, must be said). Jinx is amazingly holding it all together, having already gone back to work with a 2-month old (too bad she doesn't work at Common Ground) and a broken ankle. To be sure, she doesn't look like she gave birth 2 seconds ago. It's all that bike-ridin' she does!
Every dangled carrot must come to an end; mine and Donny's reunion was like a baby carrot - very short and sweet. I took off the next morning for the "real" journey, without the promise of comfort from family or friends for weeks to come.
More in a bit...I have to get my shit out of the dryer and eat something before I die.
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