In preparation for Mt. Washington, I will not find an 8 mile 12% grade climb with 40 mph winds and near-zero visibility. So one must train under lesser conditions.
My Independence Day route took me to Sperryville, in Rappahannock Co., Virginia. Just as I arrived it started raining. I didn’t want to ride up the mountain in the rain and hoped to wait it out. I listened to WTOP news and their weather forecast described a storm over Rappahannock Co. which would be breaking up soon. As soon as the rain stopped I started up the mountain.
From Sperryville, it would be a seven-mile climb to the summit although the first two miles would be only a two percent grade or so. I started up the mountain. After the first two miles, it started raining. I didn’t avoid it after all but at least it was a light rain.
Until the road reaches Shenandoah National Park it is a two-lane road with no shoulder. I noticed the cars with cargo on their roof racks tended to give me a wide berth while vehicles without cargo often didn’t move out of the lane even when no opposing traffic was coming. I figured the tourists were more understanding than locals of cyclists on this road. Maybe I was wrong but it is what I thought.
Once in the park, the road widens to three lanes — two in the up direction so faster drivers can pass those in the slow lane.
There was one courteous driver who passed. He was the driver of an 18-wheeler and my only thought was why an 18-wheeler was even on this road. But I was on the “shoulder” at that point which was about six inches to the right of the road. I heard him behind me and noticed he wasn’t going to pass even though he could. He waited until there was no opposing traffic. I gave him a high wave when I heard his engine rev to thank him for waiting until there was more room to pass. He responded with a quick but light reply on his air horn.
I was tapping out a good rhythm and saw a sign that Skyline Drive was two miles away. Then I heard a loud clap of thunder. I hoped not to see lightning. My glasses were keeping the rain out of my eyes but were fogging up a bit. I thought I saw a flash but wasn’t sure. But then, I was sure.
There was thunder and lightning all around. I know the safest place on a bike during an electrical storm is not on a bike. If there was an opening one could lay down the bike and sit low away from any trees. But I was in a forest. My choices were to keep going or to turn around. I had come too far to turn around and I thought I might get through the storm quicker by going through it. I continued climbing.
The rain was coming down very hard. The gullies next to the road were running full and flowing across the road. At times I was battling not only gravity but currents too. I continued.
The heaviest part of the storm did not last long, no more than 10 minutes. I was soaked. I wondered what the few riders who passed me thought. I alternated my pedaling in and out of the saddle.
On my rear 10-speed cassette, I knew I wasn’t in my low gear. And that became intentional. I reasoned that if I am going to climb Mt. Washington I have to make lesser climbs a bit harder. Not using all my gears was part of my plan.
Unlike mountain or hybrid bikes, there is no click shifting with gear numbers on my road bike. It’s all done by feel and if one must know, a quick glance back to see where the chain is on the gears.
I approached the summit and the pedaling became easier. I had made it. I biked over the summit to Page Co., and then stopped to check out my gearing. I wasn’t even in my second gear. Or third. I had climbed to the summit of Skyline Drive in my fourth sprocket which gave me a great feeling about my fitness level for next weekend.
I turned around for the reward — a fast descent back down to Sperryville on wet roads.
I did a stupid thing this afternoon. Much of my riding around Prince William County is on the bike paths/trails which follow the new roads in the county, particularly on Rte 234. But I need to take local roads to get there and Waterway Drive through Montclair is one of them.
Waterway Drive is four lanes, two in each direction, with a nice grassy median strip with trees and with curbs — no shoulders. There is no place to move except in the gutter beside the curb. On my way down Waterway towards the stop sign at Avon/Northgate, I was doing 34 mph, just one mph short of the speed limit. Still, some cars insist on flying by so I know they’re speeding.
Just before the road leveled out I was buzzed by a black SUV who got dangerously close – within a few inches. I didn’t respond with profanity or gestures. I just kept going. But as I approached the four-way stop sign, both our through lanes were backed up with seven to eight cars. I quickly came upon the line of cars and was able to move past them on the right to get up to the stop sign. Here the road does open a bit so there is a quasi-shoulder.
I had slowed and as I approached the front of the line there was the SUV. He saw me coming and swerved sharply to the right. But he tried to go all the way to the right and cut me off. I did put out my hand and slap his vehicleto get his attention and prevent him from hitting me. But then, here was the stupid part, I passed one more car then turned around.
Something said not to take this anymore. Clearly, without thinking I went back and pulled in front of his vehicle, basically daring him to run me over. Standing off my bike in front of the driver’s side headlight, I said to him, and his three passengers, “Play nice out here. You have a nice car and future ahead of you (he was probably in his late teens or early twenties and probably showing off for his friends) but if you kill one bicyclist you can be charged with manslaughter, lose everything you have, and spend a few years in jail. Just play nice.“
I didn’t yell. I was calm and used a conversational voice.
In retrospect, it was stupid because he could have gunned it and run me down. Except there was a car in front of us. He could have pinned me though. But I sort of felt protected because of the number of cars around. Call them witnesses.
But then came the surprise. He didn’t say a word. I don’t know if anything sunk in or not and will never know. But it was 70° and many drivers had their windows down enjoying the nice temperature. The people in the car beside him cheered me. “Alright! You tell him!” And the driver in the car behind his was cheering too.
For a brief moment, people were glad to see a bicyclist stand up to an idiotic driver. And maybe before he cut me off he also cut them off.
I went through the intersection before he did then wondered what would happen when in the next 200 yards when he got his chance to pass me for a final time. I didn’t give him that chance. I turned into the next driveway simply to let him pass without confrontation before resuming my ride.
It’s tough out there. I do not ever condone confronting a driver. They may be angry. They may be imparied. They have a big machine and they may use it. Heck, they could be armed. I rarely react to anything but on this day I did. And while it worked out OK, I am aware that it may not the next time so hopefully, there won’t be a next time.
It was eight and one-half years ago that we first drove Bethany to Shepherdstown, West Virginia to tour Shepherd College. The trip to Shepherdstown and neighboring Charles Town seemed so far. But it would become a trip we would make many times as both Bethany and Ashley attended Shepherd College (now University).
We had a picnic at Bethany and Andy’s place today. For the second time this year, I decided to bike to Charles Town instead of drive. It is getting lighter later and I couldn’t leave home until almost 7:00 a.m.
My route took me up Minnieville Rd to Delaney Road where I sprinted and reached 42.3 mph crossing Neabsco Creek. I always have to break 40 mph there. I followed Delaney to Ridgefield Rd then to the Prince William Parkway. I took the Parkway to Manassas then followed Sudley Road past Manassas Mall and Manassas Battlefield. After passing the battlefield I turned right on Gum Springs Rd which immediately enters Loudoun Co. I followed Gum Springs Rd to Braddock Rd then turned left on Braddock Rd.
Braddock Rd becomes a washboard dirt road in the woods for about three miles. It is very rough riding. One of my water bottles flew off here causing me to stop for a minute. Braddock Rd connects with James Madison Hwy (US Rte 15) which, thankfully, I only had to ride for one mile to Gilberts Corner. At Gilberts Corner, US 50, I turned west on 50 and followed it about a mile and one half past Aldie.
After Aldie, I turned on Snickersville Turnpike a delightful almost traffic-free country road that cuts a neat northwest diagonal. This is the shortest way to Charles Town.
Maybe traffic was lighter than normal because the Hibbs Bridge is out. On the run in to the bridge I reached my high speed for the day – 43.1 mph. I was flying. But the bridge was closed and I had a decision to make. Turn around and take a 10-mile detour or ford the Beaverdam Creek with my bike. I was able to carry my bike over the creek and continue on. I went as far as Airmont then turned north through Round Hill where I went under Rte 7. I followed the road north and came to Cider Mill Rd which connected with Rte 9 west of Hillsboro.
Route 9 is a major road and connects Loudoun Co., Virginia with Jefferson Co., West Virginia. It is two-lane, 55 mph road which crosses the Appalachian Trail at the state border but with no shoulder. I had no problems on Rte 9 and climbing the mountain was painless and quick. I like this route because the descent into Jefferson Co. features some very technical curves. On the first set I rounded one at 41 mph. There is a second climb before a second descent which then crosses the Shenandoah River.
Total mileage was 70 and took me just under 4 1/2 hours at an average speed of 15.5 mph. I arrived at Bethany’s and was able to “relax” by jumping in their pool. Sweet!
So why build up to a big event? The first-ever mountain hill climb race I ever entered was the granddaddy of them all — Newton’s Revenge up the Mount Washington Auto Road in New Hampshire. Then when it was canceled I rode up Mount Evans in Colorado, the highest paved road in the U.S. Now one month later, I found myself in my first ever registered century ride. This was not a flat 100 miles like the Sea Gull Century but the most physically demanding one I could find — the Blue Ridge Extreme Challenge, which featured 11,000 feet of vertical climbing.
Early yesterday I went for a short ride which turned into one much longer than I planned. Just a stroll around the neighborhood and up some steep, but short, climbs, ended up as a 32-mile ride in 95° heat and 95% humidity. I was absolutely drained after that ride. I could not hear myself talk and was seeing black spots — or were they white?
I drove down to Afton Mountain Saturday afternoon to be near the start since leaving the house at 4:00 a.m. would probably in itself, wipe me out. I checked into the hotel and started reading the road rules. Problem number one: There was a five-hour cutoff to be under at mile 56 or forced to take a shorter route home. I didn’t know how that would work out.
The race promised two 10 km climbs, the first being a 10 km Category 2 climb at mile 50 and the second about 15 km Category 1. Each climb featured a 2.3 mile (4 km) 11% grade of “tantalizing joy.” Or higher — 18% on Reed’s Gap
View from the parking lot at race start
The race went off at 7:30, actually, it was 7:33 a.m. which would become important in my final time. It was overcast and 70° – perfect riding weather. Four hundred riders started with a police escort about four miles down the mountain into Waynesboro.
We were flying down the mountain which is important for calculating average speed. Nothing like a few miles at 30 mph. I looked down and noticed I was going zero. The magnet on the front spoke had slipped up and I was torn between stopping and fixing it or just letting it go. After all, we would have the official time at the end. But I eventually pulled over, did a quick fix, fell behind a hundred riders then jumped back in with the group.
The road was flat down in the valley and we kept a good pace and went flying by Rest Stop One at 17 miles. Here we formed a group of riders who would stay together much of the day. I met Ashley Hightower, a chef from Charlottesville. Eventually, we formed up with some others including Shana Garland, a triathlete from Virginia Beach.
When we arrived at the second rest stop (Mile 29) the one port-a-john had been tipped over. But that didn’t stop a number of the men from relieving themselves right beside where the port-a-john was. Even the Tour de France fines riders for public urination and these riders simply had no class or self-respect. There were women riders in our group as well as women volunteers at the tables that were set up offering food and water to the riders.
The ride was quite enjoyable until we reached Vesuvius. By then it was raining and we began the long climb each at our own pace. Ashley had an incredible spin and quickly was gone up the hill. I went at my own pace hoping to meet them at the top. Eventually, I looked up and to my surprise was Ashley, walking. This absolutely broke my spirit. She was the strongest climber and if she was walking I had no chance. I caught her and asked if we were going to ride or walk together. She choose walk which, truth be told, was fine with me.
I had never walked on a climb before but saw a number of riders had been beaten by the mountain. We stayed together for a while then decided to climb some more. She got into her rhythm and then I cramped (quadriceps). I was done. So I walked some more before resuming.
Ashley Hightower
We reached rest area number four at the top of the climb. I kiddingly asked one of the volunteers if it was 12:30, the cutoff time not to be allowed to continue. He said, “sorry, you beat it by at least an hour.” We continued.
This time it was over the Blue Ridge Parkway and our “descent” started with another climb for another half mile or so. We sort of broke apart with me bringing up the rear but once we crested I eventually was able to make my way to the front. At one point I had a car in front of me keeping me from catching the other riders but was able to pass the car and still not cross the yellow line – a rules violation.
That left me wondering if I was that good at descending or just someone willing to take foolish risks to catch up? I’m not sure. But at one point I was so far ahead of our group that I pulled over and waited for them. My thrill for the day was bombing the descents and this was a ten-mile descent. Oh how I wished the ride ended at the bottom.
While enjoying every descent you know you will pay for them later. And I did. Our sixth rest stop, at Mile 80, was at a store at the base of the climb to Wintergreen. Of course, I didn’t know what was in store for me having never ridden this route. We began together but eventually broke apart. It was a gradual climb that kept getting steeper. I went as far as my legs would allow knowing that I had been foolish for riding so far in the heat on Saturday.
The temperature in the last 20 miles had risen 14°. It had gone from 70° and cloudy to 84° and sunny. I worried about the heat but was thankful it wasn’t with us most of the day. But the humidity was draining me.
I looked up the road and could see riders starting to “paperboy” the ride (ride back and forth across the road). They were struggling. I had no energy and I dismounted. I was pushing the bike at 3 mph and noticed that the riders in front were not gaining any distance on me. I continued for a while then mounted and rode some more.
About half a mile from the top was the seventh rest stop. Here were some volunteers from the Wintergreen Fire and Rescue. One said, “grab him and I’ll take the bike.” They met me and had me sit right away. Gave me some bottled water and put some cold towels on my neck. I removed my helmet and soaked down my head too. After the forced stop of about 8-10 minutes, they gave me a push to get going again.
Someone asked me if they pulled every rider off their bike on the ascent. “No,” I stated, “probably only those who looked ready to die.”
I reached the top which is the Blue Ridge Parkway. I expected 13 miles of downhill but to my surprise, was met with another four miles of climbing. Grrr. It wasn’t steep, just unrelenting. I simply kept my pace and started clock-watching, wanting to get in under eight hours. At first I thought I could do the final 13 miles in 26 minutes (30 mph) but faced with uphills, I knew I was toast if I was to finish in less than eight hours.
Still, I hit the downhill portions and was able to roll. But I knew the last 200 yards was a 20% grade up to the finish line. And I got there a couple of minutes too late. It was 3:30 p.m. I had caught a rider, Malcolm Lively, on his descent and didn’t want to pass. So I “sat on his wheel” the last half mile and followed him around the last turn.
“Those sadistic bastards!” he yelled out to no one as he started to climb. “They just had to put this climb at the end like we haven’t suffered enough.” I agreed quietly.
As I reached the top I heard “Here is number 427, Barry Sherry, of Woodbridge.” I had finished.
At the finish line, there was pizza. While my body needed food it struggled to get a piece of cheese pizza down. I was offered a Blue Ridge Extreme beer glass from the event but turned it down. I just wanted to get out of my soaking wet clothes and go home.
Epilogue: More than anything my ride in the extreme heat and humidity the day before coupled with not knowing how to properly replenish left me woefully short of energy for this challenge. My time was 8:03 (remember those three minutes at the beginning?) but 45 minutes was spent at the various rest stops. One rider finished in less than five hours and 36 did it in less than six hours. They’re animals! By my account, I was number 160 and was still ahead of 19 other riders including more than one hour ahead of five riders and three who did not finish. Although I was disappointed virtually everyone comments how few people can attempt such a feat and accomplish it. Maybe. Still, I want to do better.
About this map — This was drawn from memory on RidewithGPS.com four years after the ride and does not reflect the actual route of the day. The ride to Waynesboro and from Vesuvius to Beech Grove back to the mountain is accurate. However, we went farther into the I81 valley and actually did 100 miles on the day.
Andrew and I went into work with my vanpool and loaded our gear for our departure from L’Enfant Plaza in southwest Washington. We each had a rack on the back of our bikes to carry one sleeping bag. I was pulling a “Bob” — a one-wheel trailer behind my bike. The Bob was fully loaded with six days supplies for each of us, camping gear, and every bike tool that one could think of.
A Bob trailer
It was hot and sunny. Even as we left the building shortly before 9:00 a.m. it was already pushing 80°, going up to a high of 90°. And humid. We rode out the building and got on the sidewalk to cross the Case Bridge which carries I-395 over the Washington Channel. At the end of the Case Bridge, we went under it, and rode the 200 yards to the Thomas Jefferson Memorial. There I took a picture of Andrew to commemorate our official starting point.
We then rode on the 14th Street Bridge on its sidewalk/bike lane and crossed the Potomac River into Virginia. At the bridge’s end we got on the Mt. Vernon Trail and within the first half-mile saw our first wildlife of the trip — a blue heron standing passively on the banks of the Potomac.
We rode through Gravelly Point, the excellent plane-watching park where we have been many times watching the flights in and out of Reagan National Airport. We continued past the airport down to Four Mile Run Trail and picked it up to ride to Shirlington.
Four Mile Run where it enters the Potomac appears to be a straight stagnant pool of water which was channeled out years ago for flood control. But within a couple of miles that would change. We followed the trail to Shirlington, crossing the pedestrian bridge over the very busy I-395. Once in Shirlington, we rode about two blocks to find the entrance to the Washington & Old Dominion Trail (W&OD).
The W&OD was a short line electric railroad that ran from northern Virginia to Bluemont, some 60 miles away, until the 1960s. When it ceased operating, the Virginia Electric and Power Company bought the right away for its power poles then later the Northern Virginia Regional Park Authority negotiated with VEPCO to use the old trackbed as a rail trail.
The W&OD is a nine-foot wide paved trail from Shirlington to Purcellville. Because it mostly follows a former train right of way, the grades are gradual. But from Shirlington to Purcellville, it is a gradual grade uphill when it’s not flat. Except for a couple of overpasses to cross busy highways or go through neighborhoods, there are no downhills headed west. It’s basically easy pedaling, but it’s pedaling all the way to Leesburg, our destination on the W&OD.
The first mile on the W&OD the trail parallels a busy street. There is no shade and plenty of road noise. Only three miles from Shirlington, the trail follows Four Mile Run and diverts through a wooded area. I didn’t know such a beautiful area existed inside the Beltway. I thought everything had been developed but this trail, while uphill, is worth a trip in itself. Four Mile Run at this point is a narrow stream, with lots of water cascading over the rocks on its way to the Potomac.
I was surprised when all of a sudden we were in Bluemont Park at a Frisbee Golf Course. I had played the course once before but never noticed the rail trail cut through it. We exited Bluemont only to be dumped into a residential neighborhood without good directions as to where the trail headed. It is poorly marked at this point. We waited until a cyclist passed through and followed him up about two blocks past a Metro Station where we rejoined the trail.
We were parallel to I-66 and rode through the city of Falls Church. We later crossed over I-66 then made our first milestone for the day, the crossing of I-495 — the Beltway. Here the trail was flat and we entered the town of Vienna. We stopped for our first break of the day and ate lunch. After refilling our stomachs and water bottles we started out the trail once again.
The difficult part of this section of the trail is that it crosses many busy streets at grade. For each crossing, we would lose our momentum as we had to come to a stop and wait for traffic. In Herndon, Andrew couldn’t get his shoes off the pedals quick enough (he had borrowed cleats that clipped in) and he had his first spill of the trip. He had to stop short of crossing the roadway but his shoes were locked firmly on the pedals and Isaac Newton’s law won here. Andrew was scraped up a little but we continued without needing the first aid kit.
Our first deer was spotted in Vienna, not in the residential section but here the trail goes through a wooded area. It was surprising to see a deer so close to where thousands of people live.
We continued on the trail and crossed busy Route 28 via a flyover. We knew this marked the end of the residential section, and also the end of any shade at all. I had set my watch so that every hour we would stop and rest/stretch if we hadn’t already done so. It was coming up on an hour since our last stop and there was a “bike rest area” at Smith’s Switch Station on the trail about one mile past Route 28. Picture a pretty straight section of trail and no other roads or houses around, then picture a rest area for bikes. We stopped and bought our first drinks of the day to supplement what we were carrying.
The rest area is just north of Dulles Airport so we watched a few big planes on their approach to Dulles. If the trail had been mostly flat to this point, it now became a definite uphill, but gradual, ride to Leesburg. The sun was beating down on us and we were quite thirsty but kept riding, stopping once to view some quarry operations that were beside the trail.
Once we entered Leesburg we stopped for a drink at a 7-11 then took our lives in our hands as we left the W&OD. We had traveled 35 miles on this trail and the trail continues another 10 miles out to Purcellville. But we needed to follow U.S. Route 15 North. It was only three miles but it could have been 30.
We had to ride on the gravel shoulder as the cars and trucks flew past us. I let Andrew lead so I could direct him and also I would be the first “target” seen from the rear.
We reached White’s Ferry Road and pedaled that back road 1.3 miles to the water’s edge. This is the only crossing point on the Potomac between the Beltway and Point of Rocks, Maryland. White’s Ferry shuttles vehicles across the river and we walked our bikes on and paid the one dollar fare.
Once across into Maryland, we were a little disheartened to see that we were only at Milepost 35 of the C&O canal. We had ridden 35 on the W&OD, plus 3-4 from Leesburg, and 4-5 from D.C. to the trailhead. It was now 4:00 and we were pretty tired.
We started up the towpath which in this section was two dirt tracks separated by a grass median. This is why a one-wheel trailer was required. We saw more deer but rabbits and turtles were spotted mostly. The canal has sections where it is fully watered and there were stretches covered with green duckweed, but much of the canal’s bed has been overgrown by forest. We met no one coming in either direction for the next hour or so.
The serenity of the forest was broken by noise ahead which sounded like white water. Indeed it was. We were crossing the grounds of Dickerson power plant and in 1992 they had built a kayak whitewater slalom run for use by the U.S. Olympic Team to train. There was no one training on this day but the course is still there including the slalom gates.
It was just a few miles further that we came upon the crossing on the Monocacy River. The C&O paralleled the Potomac River although much of this section you couldn’t see the river. But here, where river flowed into river, the engineers had built a stone aqueduct to carry the C&O over the Monocacy River so that the canal would not be prone to flooding like the rivers were. There is a beautiful stone arch bridge which carried the canal over the Monocacy River here.
Unfortunately, with the flooding in 1972 from Hurricane Agnes, the aqueduct was damaged and for the past 30 years has been shored up with additional supports. We could walk across the structure though and after a few minutes rest and some pictures, we did.
We continued up the canal to Point of Rocks, Maryland. While we were getting hungry, we didn’t see anything here and decided to push on. The time was 6:00 p.m. and we were hoping that Brunswick, Maryland would hold promise for us. We rode ahead to Brunswick and passed an RV campground between the trail and the river. The owner rented us a site for the night so we went ahead and rode into town to eat at Mommer’s Diner.
It was in this diner that we met a couple of girls traveling through from Cumberland to D.C. We talked about conditions in both directions and they talked about how they loved Shepherdstown. Of course, we have spent many a day and dollar in Shepherdstown since Bethany goes to school there. One thing I remembered them talking about was the great bike shop. The one girl had problems with a rack and her duct tape was beginning to fail so they made the necessary stop in Shepherdstown for the repairs.
After dinner at Mommers, we headed back to our campsite to learn a most disturbing fact. The campground is nestled between the river and the canal — a beautiful location. The canal here is grown up with trees but it wasn’t always that way. While at Mommer’s we met an older couple. The man had worked for the U.S. Park Service and maintained the canal in this area. As a boy, I would guess in the 1940s, he said the canal here was watered and they would ice skate for miles on the canal in the winter. We also learned that the Park Service does plan to restore the Monocacy Aqueduct. But on the other side of the campground through those trees hides a railroad yard.
We had been thinking of staying at one of the many Hiker/Biker campsites along the towpath but the thought of hot showers was too much to ignore. We paid $9 for the campsite and took our showers, probably spending more than twice that money standing in the shower. Once we pitched the tent and tried to sleep the trains came alive. It seemed like it would last all night with cars being coupled and uncoupled. Then, of course, there’s always that pleasant sound of the air brakes being released.
The humidity of the day kept it from cooling off so it was still in the low 80s when we turned in for the night. No breeze, it was miserable.
Still, we had survived 70 miles the first day with no problems. The legs were in good shape and the butt didn’t hurt too bad either. It looked like it would be a good trip.
