Preparing for our upcoming Blue Ridge Parkway cycling tour makes me feel nostalgic and I spend long moments daydreaming about nuggets of my life spent along the ribbon of pavement that winds 470 miles through Virginia and North Carolina woodland and farmland to create a dream come true for a road cyclist. But, there’s no time for daydreaming, there’s lots of work to be done…more on that later.
When I was about 13 years old, I lived with my aunt on my grandfather’s farm which is located literally a stone’s throw from the Blue Ridge Parkway near the village of Meadows of Dan, VA and the iconic Mabry Mill. One evening, a stranger knocked on our door and asked to stay overnight in our barn. This was my first encounter with a “real” cyclist. He was touring the entire length of the Blue Ridge Parkway on his bicycle.
For all of my 13 years, I had traveled a certain section of the parkway going to the store, to my church, to school, but I had never witnessed anyone riding a bicycle on the national treasure. In fact, I had never really questioned the length of the parkway or why it existed. Other than the double-yellow line and the mile posts, it didn’t look much different than any other Floyd County road. I’d been taught that “All Roads Lead to Floyd” (my mom is chuckling in her grave) and I assumed that the parkway was just one more road leading to Floyd – the center of my kid universe. You know that scene in National Lampoon’s European Vacation where Clark Griswold says “Big Ben, Parliament” for the 99th time…well, that’s how I felt when riding along on the parkway…”Beautiful Fall Colors, Mabry Mill”.
My aunt granted permission for the touring cyclist to sleep in the barn and she fed him dinner. I was very disappointed to find the barn empty when I went to offer breakfast the following morning. Soon after this experience, my aunt purchased a 10-speed bicycle and she started riding it in a loop heading southwest on Route 614 and returning via the parkway. Sometimes, she allowed me to ride the same loop on her bicycle. I had my own horse at the time, but not my own bicycle.
As adults, we sometimes lose sight of how quickly and easily we can make an impression on a young mind. The unknown cyclist planted a seed in my brain that did not grow for many years, but now it has flourished into a dream come true.
Soon I will be leading a cycling adventure for a new group of riders along the length of the Blue Ridge Parkway. I will watch their eyes light up as they witness wondrous moments turn after turn after turn. We will enjoy great food and laughter until our faces hurt. We will spin and mash gears, sweat and enjoy long sweeping descents. We will be living the dream riding in a park that will, at times, feel like our own playground.
I will fill tubes with air, lube chains, wash dishes, prepare lunch, drive the support vehicle, rack and un-rack bicycles, shop for supplies, make French press coffee, carry luggage, provide encouragement, and sleep…a little. The days are long and the rewards are priceless.
But enough reminiscing about the past and dreaming about the upcoming tour, it’s time to clean the trailer, pack the coffee kit, stock electrolytes, buy extra tubes…