Day Ten - The Weapons of Southwestern VA: Killer Hills and Guns
I ate at the Sugar Grove Diner in the morning. After some confusion about tea, I filled up on eggs and oatmeal and ordered a sandwich to go. I paid Peggy for the room (Peggy who's like Flo from Alice but not a hussy - or assuming not, based on the piety factor) and wrote Ali's name (with "bicycle accident" in parentheses) on the prayer list. Couldn't hurt.
This day was the first of three evil Appalachian climbing days. So. Fucking. Tiring. I rode 83 miles that day through towns blurred by sweat and the similarity of their names (e.g. Meadowview/Max Meadows, Honaker/Konnarock, Hayter's Gap/Haysi) ending in Council VA. I read on my map that cyclists were allowed to camp for free in the park there, and I figured i could break my No No-Shower rule by stripping in the bathroom (i had been informed they'd be unlocked all night) and birdy-style washing my dark places in the sink. As i pedaled toward what seemed to be where the bathrooms were, an older gentleman called out: "That's where they all camp" and asked if there was a bulb above the picnic table. There wasn't, so he brought me one.
Larry and his wife, Rosetta, both retired educators, live right above the park and have kept company with cyclists who have camped there for years. He offered me a cold beer, but what i really wanted was a shower. So i suppressed my usual urban don't-ask-a-stranger-for-anything-cuz-if-they-give-it-to-you-then-you'll-owe-them-something-and-what-kind-of-position-is-that-to-be-in position and asked "Hey, is there any way you'd possibly let me take a quick shower in your house?" He said "No problem" and set me up with a towel and showed me where stuff was. I probably over-waxed apologetic and grateful - but i certainly was both.
I hung out with Larry for a couple hours shooting the breeze, telling him about my trip and my lack of exposure to strangers who are kind and do things for you, like let you take a shower in their house and bake you frozen pizza when you're hungry and prepare you breakfast in the morning. Country people, he said, are just like that. Leave doors unlocked when they leave the house, aren't afraid of break-ins. The fact that everyone owns multiple firearms certainly helps.
My conversation with Larry about guns was the second i had that day. I met two jolly junk-haulers earlier that day at a gas station who showed interest in my trip and incredulity that i was camping on my own but wasn't carrying a firearm. Some of that self-preserving hyper-awareness crept up my neck again - but only after i had divulged the location i'd be camping that night and the fact that i wasn't packing and, hell, didn't even know how to use a gun. So i had been a bit paranoid for the rest of the ride that day, worried by the story these guys told me of drug addicts who slit the throats of 2 local people. Be careful, they said. Thanks a lot for giving me something else to think about. In the movies, these guys would then try to kill me in my tent, or send someone else to do it, or sneak up on me pretending to kill me and then subsequently get murdered by the actual murderer who would then pursue me for the rest of the film.
But the fact that Larry had guns made me feel safe as was the fact that he knew how to use them from years of reasonably hunting deer and other creatures. No one was going to get me in my tent that night. We eased into a conversation about gun control, i think, feeling each other out politically. It turns out that Larry is a "strong Democrat" (i suspect a Hillary Democrat) but living where he lives, he has a lot of friends who are Republicans and respects them though he enjoys teasing them. I told him that i thought i knew 2, maybe 3 Republicans at the most, and both had a good laugh about it.
I said goodnight to Larry, 90% believing him that he and Rosetta would cook me up a huge breakfast in the morning and set up my tent, alone and unwatched. I could hear kids playing on the basketball court below, but otherwise it was quiet. And a little lonely. Decided to be cagier about telling people of my gun-toting status in the coming weeks, should it come up again (and should i survive the night).
This day was the first of three evil Appalachian climbing days. So. Fucking. Tiring. I rode 83 miles that day through towns blurred by sweat and the similarity of their names (e.g. Meadowview/Max Meadows, Honaker/Konnarock, Hayter's Gap/Haysi) ending in Council VA. I read on my map that cyclists were allowed to camp for free in the park there, and I figured i could break my No No-Shower rule by stripping in the bathroom (i had been informed they'd be unlocked all night) and birdy-style washing my dark places in the sink. As i pedaled toward what seemed to be where the bathrooms were, an older gentleman called out: "That's where they all camp" and asked if there was a bulb above the picnic table. There wasn't, so he brought me one.
Larry and his wife, Rosetta, both retired educators, live right above the park and have kept company with cyclists who have camped there for years. He offered me a cold beer, but what i really wanted was a shower. So i suppressed my usual urban don't-ask-a-stranger-for-anything-cuz-if-they-give-it-to-you-then-you'll-owe-them-something-and-what-kind-of-position-is-that-to-be-in position and asked "Hey, is there any way you'd possibly let me take a quick shower in your house?" He said "No problem" and set me up with a towel and showed me where stuff was. I probably over-waxed apologetic and grateful - but i certainly was both.
I hung out with Larry for a couple hours shooting the breeze, telling him about my trip and my lack of exposure to strangers who are kind and do things for you, like let you take a shower in their house and bake you frozen pizza when you're hungry and prepare you breakfast in the morning. Country people, he said, are just like that. Leave doors unlocked when they leave the house, aren't afraid of break-ins. The fact that everyone owns multiple firearms certainly helps.
My conversation with Larry about guns was the second i had that day. I met two jolly junk-haulers earlier that day at a gas station who showed interest in my trip and incredulity that i was camping on my own but wasn't carrying a firearm. Some of that self-preserving hyper-awareness crept up my neck again - but only after i had divulged the location i'd be camping that night and the fact that i wasn't packing and, hell, didn't even know how to use a gun. So i had been a bit paranoid for the rest of the ride that day, worried by the story these guys told me of drug addicts who slit the throats of 2 local people. Be careful, they said. Thanks a lot for giving me something else to think about. In the movies, these guys would then try to kill me in my tent, or send someone else to do it, or sneak up on me pretending to kill me and then subsequently get murdered by the actual murderer who would then pursue me for the rest of the film.
But the fact that Larry had guns made me feel safe as was the fact that he knew how to use them from years of reasonably hunting deer and other creatures. No one was going to get me in my tent that night. We eased into a conversation about gun control, i think, feeling each other out politically. It turns out that Larry is a "strong Democrat" (i suspect a Hillary Democrat) but living where he lives, he has a lot of friends who are Republicans and respects them though he enjoys teasing them. I told him that i thought i knew 2, maybe 3 Republicans at the most, and both had a good laugh about it.
I said goodnight to Larry, 90% believing him that he and Rosetta would cook me up a huge breakfast in the morning and set up my tent, alone and unwatched. I could hear kids playing on the basketball court below, but otherwise it was quiet. And a little lonely. Decided to be cagier about telling people of my gun-toting status in the coming weeks, should it come up again (and should i survive the night).
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