nicks pics

Day 1.

With the orange kombi bulging full with all our belongings, bike on the back and dog crate strapped to the roof, we said goodbye to the quiet blossoming neighbourhood of 637 21st street and put Washington DC firmly in the rear view mirror. The route for the day was chosen an hour before and we headed out on the interstate 66 and then SW down route 29 slowly making our way out of the metropolis. The first top was a small town called Culpepper, proud of its confederate history. The shit was scared out of forrie and me alike when a band of confederate "wanna-be's" let off a mortar. They soon befriended me and tried to get me to join their force - the Sons of the Confederates, so that I too could taste the glory of battles during one of their reenactment weekends. I pointed out that I did not have direct linage to a confederate soldier and that New Zealand was not in fact a southern state of the US. As is the case in a lot of the east coast, the only way to really get away from people is to head for the hills. So with that we diverted west and into the Blue Ridge mountains south of the Shenendoah National Park. The Blue Ridge parkway offered beautiful overlooks on its quiet winding road through the peaks of the mountains. I had a chat with an old guy who reminisced about his time driving a brand new '71 bus up through Canada on the trans-Alaskan highway, then (and maybe still now) a grueling gravel road. Forrest was more interested in searching for scorpians.. not yet forrie. The most notable part of his story was them calling a mate who was engaged and had just gone up to meet and stay with the in-laws. After a couple of days he'd had enough. His friends offered to pick him up on the way and so this guy packed his bags,left a note on the fridge to his (now ex) fiancee and cleared out!

First night we spent at a trailhead of the Appelacean trail, and with Greece still on my mind dined on a fresh greek salad followed by a shot of tsiporo brought back from Γεωργία's folks.


Day 2.

Breakfast of weetbix and greek coffee (Greece still on my mind but not so much). Forrest and I went off for a walk up the trail to the nearest peak - all of about 15 minutes walk, and then back down to work out which direction to drive. We continued down the parkway, and then dropped out to the west and headed south sideling past Roanoke. We resisted the temptation to stop at Christiansburg, and turned NW and up into West Virginia stopping only for phonecalls from NZ and Greece. Day 2 finished up trying desperately to find a pub in the town of Tazewell. We were guided there by a friendly couple riding Harley's, but sadly the only place in town closed at 2pm. We found a spot close to a stream and made dinner, an uninspiring pasta creation. And like all failed meal attempts I made enough for 4 nights.

Day 3.

Excited by the prospect of a new state, we made tracks for Kentucky. Stopped for the obligatory photo welcoming us in... then made for the scenic Kentucky byway, a smaller windy road that doesn't stray much more than 20 or 30 miles from the Virginia or Tennessee border. Kentucky is an interesting place. I say that because I'm all too aware of my dislike for Bill Bryson's "Travels in smalltown America". But to be perfectly honest I am beginning to gain an appreciation for it. The towns we passed through were small and for the most part borded up. A fairly poor part of the country. I stopped for gas at a small town called Cumberland, asked about any pub in town, and was pointed in the right direction for once . The pub had just been painted and was waiting for its licence to come through, but that was ok as I could buy a beer off a nice looking guy with "fuck u" tattooed on his forehead. "For the law", he told me. He buy's his beers from the gas station across the street and takes them into the pub until they get a licence. The other guy Rick, had obviously drunk a few too many kentucky bourbons in his life as he stumbled, stuttered and shook and the only thing I could understand him say was to ask the bar lady to show him her legs. Shirl, the bar lady was another unfortunate creature, overweight, crosseyed and I couldn't tell if she was severely handicapped or if it was just her strong southern accent. I had a game of pool with Rick, who could barely stop shaking to hit the ball. I was getting the hang of his accent as now I could hear him say "bad shot" after each attempt.

I left Cumberland and headed west until I hit Pineville, a charming looking town. I took the bike off the back and went for an explore. I came across an old guy who worked in the local homeless shelter, and asked him about a pub. Nope, this is a dry county, he said. We had a good chat about the place, which was quite relieving after my earlier experience in Cumberland... maybe that county should be dry too (did i really just say that?!). He informed me that I was in the heart of the bible belt. No truer word was said, for in this part of the country churches outnumber pubs 100-0. Even more. As I drove on I noticed more and more the religious notices. One particulary alarming one read "WARNING: Jesus is coming - are you ready?". Nope, but can you tell me were I can find a beer around here? It was late in the afternoon so I started looking for a place to stop for the night. I pulled off the main road into a dirt lane and went to ask at the house nearby if I could stop for the night. There was a car and at least 13 bicycles but noone home so I drove on. The next attempt the track turned into a bog before it was out of sight of the main road so again I drove on. Third time lucky I thought as I pulled off down a road that wound down to a stream with a dirt yard with some heavy machinery in it. I stopped and asked the friendly looking man at the house opposite if he knew who owned the yard and if they'd mind me parking there for the night. He owned it, and yes, he did mind. "Ok, not a problem" I replied, "Have a nice sleep tonight, God bless", and off I went. Nah, I didn't really say that. So for the second unfortunate time in my life I found myself in the parking lot of Walmart, feeling strangely safe and happy in this strange land.