ON THE MARK

ON THE MARK

MARK BYERS

MILES BEFORE ISLEEP

I had 500 miles to ride before Saturday afternoon meetings at a bicycle race in Knoxville, Tennessee, I was behind in packing, and I needed to nd radio cables to work with the promoter’s gear. I was also waiting on stuff being shipped - supposedly by two-day mail - from California that was four days behind schedule. Plus, I wanted to pick up a new helmet. Between work and delayed trip preparations, I was a stress bucket.

The GPS put my destination nearly 8 hours away, so if I waited for Saturday morning, I’d be pushed to get there in time for my meetings, especially if I waited for Morton’s to open so I could get the helmet. The answer was to leave Friday and get a few miles under my wheels. Of course, even that plan was complicated: the mailman didn’t come until late and my package still didn’t arrive. Waiting for him caused me to hit Morton’s ve minutes before closing time, but full marks to Pat and Seth for having the helmet ready and not giving me the bum’s rush.

So at 6:30 PM, I pulled out of Morton’s BMW in Spotsylvania, Virginia with 435 miles left in my trip and headed roughly southwest. I didn’t have an intermediate destination, just a notion that I wanted to put in miles. Being July meant I still had plenty of sunlight, although that fact was annoying since I was going to be riding straight into it. I turned right on my go-to Route 208 from the shop and quickly made my way through the commuter traf c to the lightly-travelled backroads I prefer so much that would take me to Charlottesville.

Route 613 didn’t disappoint: there was little traf c and the road undulated through the Virginia farmland that was becoming more goldengreen with every mile thanks to the low sun. At the far end of 613 is the town of Trevilians, site of the largest cavalry engagement of the Civil War. I met Route 22 just beyond the location of an old, quirky museum at which I always wanted to stop but never did. It’s now gone save for a sign that says to come “by appointment only.” I picture it as having been staffed by an old Civil War buff who’d talk to anyone who’d listen about the big cavalry clash.

Route 22 is an equal pleasure, splitting the Virginia farms as it heads to an intersection with the Interstate just east of Charlottesville. I thought about stopping, but I still had plenty of light and riding had energized me, taking away the stress of the week and giving me a renewed energy, so on I went, inventorying my potential other stops: Waynesboro, Staunton, and Lexington. Having come this way many times, I had places in mind to stay at each.

Sixty-four isn’t much for scenery, but it’s a fast road and I made good time going over the mountain to Waynesboro. It was tempting to stop, but the sun was still annoying in my eyes and the tripmeter was clicking away nicely, so on I went. I-64 and I-81 meet at Staunton, and again there are places to stay (and eat - like Mrs. Rowe’s Restaurant), but there was that sun and more miles on the tripmeter. At Lexington, I-64 leaves I-81 and heads west toward my homeland, but I needed to go south. The sun was now waning and I wanted to be settled before it was gone completely, so I took one of the manholes in the cement pipeline and found an unremarkable chain motel. A quick meal at a nearby truck stop IHOP and I was ready to settle after shortening my trip by 150 miles. A full tank of gas made sure I was ready to roll right after the continental breakfast (although with hotel food, I’m not sure from which continent it comes - Prepackaganistan?).

I rose rested with just ve hours left in my journey, able to check in and make my meetings in Knoxville with time to spare. Even a little traf c on I-40 outside of the city was no trouble. I’m a big fan of “putting some miles under the wheels” on an evening after work: breaking it up makes the trip so much more palatable and less stressful. Plus an evening on the backroads in the Virginia countryside is the perfect way to de-stress and, to paraphrase Frost, put in some miles to go before I sleep. ,

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