Date - June 28th 2020

Current Location - Christiansburg VA

Miles Traveled - 462.8

After 9 days on the road we finally made it to our rest day in Christiansburg, VA. We underestimated the challenge of the Appalachian mountains, so we are one day behind schedule. So much has happened in the last 9 days that it’s hard to start. Rather then giving you a play by play recap of what happened, I think it is better to pick a couple of adventures and stories that are most memorable so far.

Bike diagram - Digital sketch using Procreate on IPad Pro.

The First Day

After a good first ride, we made it to lock 12 near Peach Bottom PA. It started raining once we got there, and we were exploring the area trying to figure out the best place to camp. After talking with some people there, we found out that a ranger comes at 8pm to close the park, and if he sees us we will most likely get kicked out. We set off down some steep trails to look for a good hidden spot, and noticed an intimidating sign. It said, “when lights are flashing, evacuate the area immediately.” It was then that we realized the area we were hiking down to floods every time the dam in the river is opened. I started noticing a ton of dead trees and branches in the area that were brought in by the current, then trapped when the water drops back down.

We couldn’t find any information on when this happens, but I was imagining the worst scenario of waking up in the middle of the night to rushing water, and getting carried out to sea. I tried to convince the other guys, but they were insistent that they found an awesome spot to set up. They wouldn’t budge. John and I had already set up camp above the rising water line, so we stayed up there for the night, while the other guys slept by the river. The next morning at 6am loud sirens started to blare and the lights on the sign began to flash. Luckily, the guys were already packing up, and we didn’t lose them in the flood waters!

Walmart Steak Night

On our second night, we finished the ride at a Walmart in Westminster MD. As something to look forward to, Jake proposed a steak night, and we were all on board immediately. We found a perfect spot around back with a picnic table, so the next step was acquiring the steaks. To our disappointment, the Walmart was steakless. Our pursuit of the meat led us to a nearby grocery store, then to the Buffalo Wild Wings for a 6 pack of Bud Light. We came rolling back into the Walmart stocked and ready for steak night. Our makeshift setup of a metal grate propped up on water bottles and two gas camp stoves got the job done, and we feasted while people in the adjacent garden section shopped for flowers. Every once in a while an employee would come to our spot for their smoke break, and not one of them commented on the absurdity of our situation. Is this a typical thing behind Walmart? Who knows.

After we satisfied our steak craving, the next order of business was finding a spot to camp. There was a narrow strip of grass and trees between the loading dock and a highway. Perfect! We set up our tents end to end in an impossibly narrow strip of grass between high stacks of pallets and a line of bushes. It was the epitome of stealth camping. The tents peaked out between the pallets, but their green color blended in with the greenery behind us. We got to bed, thinking all would be quiet after dark at the Walmart, but we were mistaken. At around 1am, I woke up to bright lights and the screeching of mechanical equipment. As I laid quietly in my tent, I put together the pieces and realized that there was a fork lift no more then 10 feet from me rearranging pallets that we were hidden behind. I was just waiting for the moment when the driver discovered our presence. It was only a matter of time right? His headlights were shining right on me, but some how, some way, we were never spotted. Stealth camping done right.

Shenandoah Shenanigans

After making it through the rural farmland of PA and MD, we approached Shenandoah national park. Our route takes us down the entire 105 mile length of Skyline Drive, traversing the Blue Ridge Mountains. In the early morning of our first ride, we ran into a maintenance man. He was a burly, seasoned veteran of the park, and informed us that he had seen more black bears in the past week than he had seen in the past 5 years. Stealth camping isn’t an option here among the bears, so we had to plan our days around the infrequent rest stops along Skyline Drive.

One of the many overlooks in Shenandoah. From left to right, Jason, John, Chris, Jake.

Our goal for the first ride was to get to Skyland, 42 miles away, and the highest point in the park. It was a brutal day of climbing up into the mountains, a cumulative total of 6,000 feet. Early in the ride, John popped a tire, and continued to have bike troubles throughout the day. On top of that, he was feeling exhausted after the many days of riding and lack of sleep. It was a low point for him, and he wasn’t sure that he could make it to Skyland. (Note from John: “extremely exhausted”)

Luckily, the huge hill bombs, and views in the park made up for most of the pain. By the time we reached Skyland at 5pm, we were all ready to be done for the day. We strolled into the office, and asked for a room in the Inn. Our worst fears came true when they told us they had not a single. room. available.

If you encounter a black bear, you are supposed to make your body appear as big as possible, and use your limbs to show the bear that you are human not prey. This is our practice.

Over beers and burgers at the lodge, we discussed the only two options we had, either illegally stealth camp at Skyland among the black bears, with the risk of being spotted by a ranger, or hop back on our bicycles for another 10 miles to reach Big Meadows Campground.

We decided on the later option, and some how John, beaten and battered from the 42 miles so far, agreed to push another 10. It was already 7pm, so this mountainous ride would take us well past sunset. Just a few miles from the lodge, we heard John shouting from behind. “I forgot my phone.” There was no chance of turning back, so we all decided to continue on, and to try contacting the lodge from the campsite the next day.

Because of this tough day, and extra mileage, we slept in at the campsite the next day and got some much needed sleep. John ventured up to the ranger’s station, where a women by the name of Joy overheard him explaining the situation, and offered to drive him back up to Skyland to retrieve the phone. Crisis averted thanks to her! Shoutout to Joy for the conversation, peace of mind, and the lift. Hope you wind up moving here!

Another silver lining to the day was the sunset we caught along the way. Puffy rain clouds filled the sky, but the western horizon was clear. As the sun dropped below the cloud line, the sky popped with color, and isolated thunderstorms in the valley turned gold as they caught the light.

Campground Charging

Charging our gear is a constant effort, and whenever we stop for lunch we search the area for outlets. For months before we departed, I thought about the best ways to keep everything charged, and I decided to bring a whole power strip, so all I need is one outlet to charge my camera, speaker, 3 external batteries, phone, and Ipad.

This set up has led to some comical moments, like when I asked a subway employee if I could use an outlet to charge. He expected a phone or two, but I came back in with my arms full of tangled wires and batteries and an entire personal power strip ready to double their electric bill in a matter of minutes.

At one of the campsites in Shenandoah, the only outlet was in the restroom, so we had all of our gear laid out on the sink counter, and we took shifts watching the valuables as they charged. Its funny to watch the surprise on people faces as they open the bathroom door to see this whole charging operation, and it is definitely a great conversation starter.

I was sitting on the counter, sketching the mess of wires, when a dude walked in and went straight for the stall as if there was nothing odd going on here. After a few seconds he broke the silence and said, “Charging up are ya?” From across the stall partition I started to explain the circumstances of our trip, and his interest was heightened when he came out and looked at all the camera gear. This was the type of trip he dreamed of being able to take, but his career and family make it near impossible.

This is the case with so many people, and although it was tough for me to quit my job in the uncertain times of 2020, my interaction with this man reassured me that I made the right choice. He asked if I would be here for a minute, and I responded, “Ill be here all day.”

A few minutes later, he came back with a solar charger and external battery, and handed them over to me. He saw the desperation for energy, and he provided an awesome solution. Every so often, one of my bike brothers would come in, and I shared this story of generosity, showing off our shiny new solar charger. We were already excited and full of positivity after this, then the same man came back again and handed over a business card and a crisp $100 bill. When I broke this news to the boys we were all freaking out.

Its moments like these that start to change our mindset and perception of the world. It is easy to get discouraged when all you see is the media, but in reality, people are unbelievably generous and kind.

When I asked him what he wanted us to spend the money on, he said, “ I don’t know, hookers and beer?” Right on man, right on. The guy in the story is Anthony Lieze, the owner of Green Guys Recycling Solutions in NJ. Support his business, he is an awesome dude!

Backwoods in Buchanan

After passing through Shenandoah, we were back in the sparsely populated farms of VA. The entire ride for the day was following route 11, aka the Lee Highway. We have started to really appreciate properly graded roads. In rural areas, the roads are poorly maintained, and incredibly steep, while state routes spend the money to cut through hills for manageable grades.

In the morning we were making great time. At our breakfast stop at Sheetz it was all smiles as we talked about how fun it was riding the Lee Highway. The downhills gave us enough speed to coast up the next hill, then back down again. An easy day ahead of us.

As we continued to ride, the road got smaller and more rural, and we stopped to get drone shots of the morning fog. This is when the trouble started. I crashed the drone... The propellers on one motor broke, but if I can get replacement blades we should be back in business.

While we were stopped, someone decided to check directions. We didnt have google maps on, because we thought it was simple to follow one road. I believe we instead overestimated our natural calling to abide by our inner compass and while I was still assessing the damage on the drone, Jake solemnly states, “bad news, we’ve been going in the wrong direction for 8 miles.” Rather than tracking all the way back, we decided to follow google maps on a new route through the farm lands. The road got even narrower, then turned to gravel. We passed suspiciously close to some farm houses, but hey, google told us to do it. This “road” then turned to grass and rocks as we left the farms and entered the forest. A fallen tree completely blocked the route, and we had to shimmy our bikes through the branches. Right after squeezing his bike through, Jake realized that his bike rack was totally unsecured on one side. The screw that held it in place had sheered off, leaving just the shaft of the screw embedded in the frame, with no head to unscrew it.

We were stuck out in the middle of nowhere trying to fix this bike, when a car pulled up on the other side of the fallen tree. “You know you’re on private property right,” the man said as he got out of his car. We told him our situation, and he was nice enough to let us continue through. He said he hadn’t been down this path in years and was unsure if we could navigate it with bikes. If we could make it through, we were reassured that there was a real road on the other side. We made a temporary fix with zip ties to hold Jake’s rack, then proceeded into the unknown.

After a few miles through streams and tick infested meadows, we emerged on the other side of civilization. We stopped for a moment, reminiscing on Lee Highway, and where we went wrong, then pushed ahead to the Cardinal Bike Shop in Roanoke VA. They were able to fix up Jakes bike, provide ice cold water, and let us camp out back!