Day Four - There goes the C'ville town drunk again (updated)
...Oh, wait! The Charlottesville town drunk is me! Except i haven't had a drop to drink, except water and electrolyte/fart-enhancing beverages. The end of Day Four saw me ambling about the center of Charlottesville, outwardly well-to-do and touristy and college-towny (UVA graduation weekend was upon us, and the town was swarming with partiers and partying parents).
Earlier that day, Donny had walked me up to the end of Jinx's driveway. He was sniffing a bit, and i thought it was something sinus-related. But when i realized he was crying, that's when i let it in for the first time, really: the awful horrible lonely fact that we would be without each other for several weeks. The Fear i spoke of in my last post hit me like a wave, as Donny often serves as buffer between me and Fear Itself. I don't want to get too too personal, even to air clean laundry, but let it suffice to say that parting was a sweet yet bashing baseball bat of sorrow.
Compared to Day Three, this day was to be shorter, only 70 miles. I won't blab about the sights that day; I don't remember them. The most significant travel-related occurrence of that day was running into my first fellow-travelers. Fabian (whose blog crazyguyonabike i had been reading during planning) had run into Ted and Lisa from Hawaii and were traveling as a threesome. I came up behind them, not exactly trying to be cool but at least modulating my excitement at seeing them.
We immediately spoke about the dog-danger written about on several people's blogs. Despite Lisa's animal-rights leanings (she's actually raising money for the Humane Society on her trip, i think - or some animal rights group), she carried pepper spray, as did the others. As if by example, a barking dog charged over to us followed by his owner, a sweet-looking tow-headed girl of about 8. Fabian asked the dog holding up the spray: "Do you know what this is?" It obviously didn't since it kept barking. Luckily for the dog, he didn't come out to the road. It would have been awful to witness Fabian spray the dog in front of the little girl. It's to teach the dog not to charge cyclists, Fabian said. I believe him, and i'm hoping the rest of the dogs i encounter will have learned the lesson already.
The group of them were staying in Charlottesville that night and a budget motel. Call ahead, they warned, as it's graduation weekend. Eh, I'll deal with it when i get there.
That was a mistake. Almost a very bad one. After a steep and long and trafficky climb to C'ville past Monticello, Jefferson's self-designed sweeping residence, i stopped to call ahead for a room. Everything was booked. Yikes. It was almost 7pm, no time to get anywhere else. LUCKILY, the Alexander House, which was on the map listed as a B&B/hostel had one empty bed in a four-person dorm room.
Hmm. Ok. No other options, so fine. The A-house caters to travelers. Brad, the likeable and chatty-Cathy manager(immediately offered me ice water and an apple), has a soft spot for "you guys" (meaning cross-country cyclists doing the Transamerican route). Brad actually had a lot to say about C'ville and his own neighborhood's gentrification, the University, restaurants, rednecks, and a myriad of topics - however, i really needed a shower, and a little less conversation, a little more hygiene action.
I got cleaned up and wandered downtown, not knowing where i was going. "Fridays After Five" was happening - a big tent with live music and hundreds of people streaming along the downtown mall (kind of like 3rd St. Promenade but even more vast. Take that, Santa Monica!) Here's where the town drunk comes in - the ride had exhausted me and i was extra-disoriented and emotional about leaving Donny. I weaved and bobbed, needing to look at the curb before i put my foot on it. I looked like another partying grad. Ok, not really, but somewhere between the grad and his parents. Or nowhere in between which led to feeling like a stranger in a strange land. Which I was. I am.
I scarfed down salmon and broccoli and some other stuff and found my way back to Alexander House stopping by a liquor store where i bought, uncharacteristically, peanut M&M's - because they're Donny's favorite. They tasted like the glossy bag they came in - but they brought me comfort and a little extra protein.
Back at the house, my roommates rolled in. Yorick (or what sounds like Yorick in a Polish accent) from Warsaw reminded me of Efrain. And Kate and Sean, who just finished a tour of the southeast playing Kate's music. [Kate Elliott is her name and she's on iTunes. I haven't checked her out, but she could be awesome. Let me know if you are curious and listen to any of her tracks.] It was definitely out of my comfort zone, sharing a room with strangers. I slept on a bunk-bed for the first time in many years.
Earlier that day, Donny had walked me up to the end of Jinx's driveway. He was sniffing a bit, and i thought it was something sinus-related. But when i realized he was crying, that's when i let it in for the first time, really: the awful horrible lonely fact that we would be without each other for several weeks. The Fear i spoke of in my last post hit me like a wave, as Donny often serves as buffer between me and Fear Itself. I don't want to get too too personal, even to air clean laundry, but let it suffice to say that parting was a sweet yet bashing baseball bat of sorrow.
Compared to Day Three, this day was to be shorter, only 70 miles. I won't blab about the sights that day; I don't remember them. The most significant travel-related occurrence of that day was running into my first fellow-travelers. Fabian (whose blog crazyguyonabike i had been reading during planning) had run into Ted and Lisa from Hawaii and were traveling as a threesome. I came up behind them, not exactly trying to be cool but at least modulating my excitement at seeing them.
We immediately spoke about the dog-danger written about on several people's blogs. Despite Lisa's animal-rights leanings (she's actually raising money for the Humane Society on her trip, i think - or some animal rights group), she carried pepper spray, as did the others. As if by example, a barking dog charged over to us followed by his owner, a sweet-looking tow-headed girl of about 8. Fabian asked the dog holding up the spray: "Do you know what this is?" It obviously didn't since it kept barking. Luckily for the dog, he didn't come out to the road. It would have been awful to witness Fabian spray the dog in front of the little girl. It's to teach the dog not to charge cyclists, Fabian said. I believe him, and i'm hoping the rest of the dogs i encounter will have learned the lesson already.
The group of them were staying in Charlottesville that night and a budget motel. Call ahead, they warned, as it's graduation weekend. Eh, I'll deal with it when i get there.
That was a mistake. Almost a very bad one. After a steep and long and trafficky climb to C'ville past Monticello, Jefferson's self-designed sweeping residence, i stopped to call ahead for a room. Everything was booked. Yikes. It was almost 7pm, no time to get anywhere else. LUCKILY, the Alexander House, which was on the map listed as a B&B/hostel had one empty bed in a four-person dorm room.
Hmm. Ok. No other options, so fine. The A-house caters to travelers. Brad, the likeable and chatty-Cathy manager(immediately offered me ice water and an apple), has a soft spot for "you guys" (meaning cross-country cyclists doing the Transamerican route). Brad actually had a lot to say about C'ville and his own neighborhood's gentrification, the University, restaurants, rednecks, and a myriad of topics - however, i really needed a shower, and a little less conversation, a little more hygiene action.
I got cleaned up and wandered downtown, not knowing where i was going. "Fridays After Five" was happening - a big tent with live music and hundreds of people streaming along the downtown mall (kind of like 3rd St. Promenade but even more vast. Take that, Santa Monica!) Here's where the town drunk comes in - the ride had exhausted me and i was extra-disoriented and emotional about leaving Donny. I weaved and bobbed, needing to look at the curb before i put my foot on it. I looked like another partying grad. Ok, not really, but somewhere between the grad and his parents. Or nowhere in between which led to feeling like a stranger in a strange land. Which I was. I am.
I scarfed down salmon and broccoli and some other stuff and found my way back to Alexander House stopping by a liquor store where i bought, uncharacteristically, peanut M&M's - because they're Donny's favorite. They tasted like the glossy bag they came in - but they brought me comfort and a little extra protein.
Back at the house, my roommates rolled in. Yorick (or what sounds like Yorick in a Polish accent) from Warsaw reminded me of Efrain. And Kate and Sean, who just finished a tour of the southeast playing Kate's music. [Kate Elliott is her name and she's on iTunes. I haven't checked her out, but she could be awesome. Let me know if you are curious and listen to any of her tracks.] It was definitely out of my comfort zone, sharing a room with strangers. I slept on a bunk-bed for the first time in many years.
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