A Trip Worth Taking

Ever since our C&O trip I've been looking for a new place to drag our bike trailer to.  I mean, we bought all this stuff, so we've got to use it.  Right??  I pulled out my trusty $20.00 topo map of South Carolina, and started looking for an overnighter that would appeal to my sense of adventure but would still attract the wives as well.  A little looking and wa-la, I had found it.  Abbeville! It was perfect.  58 miles away.  Very doable in 2/3's of a day.  The town is historic and quaint, and heavy on the charm factor, and it is home to the Abbeville Opera House.  And that was the hook.  No woman could resist shopping in dusty little antique stores and brick-a-brack shops, a meal at the local City Grill, and a night at the Opera House.  They could not do it, no matter how much hell they had to go through to get there.  I had'em!

I decided to present it to Susan first.  I knew she would be the hard sale.  She knows most of my tricks, but even she couldn't find anything wrong with this one.  Next came Rod & Cheryl our biking buddy neighbors.  With the shopping factor I knew I had Cheryl.  There is no mountain too high, no valley too deep, no river too wide if there is a chance for a bargain, and Rod will always try anything once, so we had a trip.  Next we needed a date.

The date was the hard part.  Rod are Cheryl are empty nesters too, and their schedule is busier than ours, so dates were checked, tested, rechecked, tossed out, scratched in and scratched out with reckless abandon.  Finally a weekend was squeezed in between Rod & Cheryl climbing Mount Washington in New Hampshire, and us going to a friend’s birthday party. OK, so theirs was a little more exotic than ours, but these are old friends, and it was a surprise party.  That counts for a few adventure points, doesn’t it? Anyway, July 20 was finally settled on.  Next on my agenda was a B&B. 

A few hours on the internet waiting for pictures of Bed and Breakfasts to download, and it is narrowed down to the Abbewood.  Now Abbewood B&B is a quaint, historic old home, and it was about 5 blocks closer to the opera house than the other two B&B's.  When you are walking that tops quaint, charming, etc. anytime, so it's the Abbewood.  The rooms are booked and the route is set. Road trip!!!!!

The south is still in the grip of a drought, so rain is always a possibility when you plan an outdoor weekend. It beats washing your car for causing a rain shower, so I kept an eye on the weather channel.  Rain seemed remote, but I did notice the temperature kept climbing as we got closer to our ride day.  A quick meeting of all persons involved and we decided to leave at 7:00AM to beat the heat.  The Friday before we were supposed to leave we moved the kick off time to 6:30AM.  Abbeville was calling for temps in the low 90's, but the good news was the wind chill would be in the mid 80's.  Huh? Wind chill only comes from wind, and I hate wind.  Saturday morning arrived, and by 6:45 we were off. 

This was only an overnight trip so the trailer only had to be sat on to close the top, no clamps or come-alongs were needed to shut it.  We had our panniers on too, but they were empty.  This worried me because Susan was completely capable of filling them with various odds and ends from all the shops she said she was planning on visiting.  When I remind her about the added weight we would have to carry she told me not to worry that she would carry it.  OK with me.  Hey, wait, a minute.  We are on a tandem!

 
There is an overcast sky and the morning temperature feels great as we ride through Simpsonville and head towards Fountain Inn.  Half way between the two towns Rod rolls to a stop with a nail sticking out of his rear tire.  Somehow it's always the rear tire.  Off comes the trailer and then the wheel is woven through the chain and around the derailleur.  We have both got plenty of experience doing this, and Rod makes quick work of the flat, and we are soon moving again. On the outskirts of Fountain Inn we've gone 13 miles, and we stop for a Hardee's biscuit for breakfast  As we walk to the door we see a sign saying, “sorry but we do not have any biscuits”.  First the flat, then no biscuit.  I'm starting to get that foreboding feeling again.  After a short wait we get breakfast, and soon we were rolling into the countryside towards Hickory Tavern.  The road is perfect.  The sun only peaks out from behind the clouds occasionally, and the miles slip by.  Before you know it we are coming to our first big climb of the day.  28 miles have gone by, and we are at Dairy Road hill.  It's not too bad, just a little long.  After a short rest at the top we are rolling once again.  5 miles later we are at the big climb of the day.  Maddox Bridge Road crosses the Saluda River, and them climbs 2.5 miles to highway 252.  It's not severe, but it is long, and it continues to climb after crossing 252 and it slowly rises the next 5 miles into Donalds.  By now the sun has finally whipped those clouds and is standing tall.  I was beginning to wish the wind would start blowing, and bring on those wind chills.  At Donalds we sat in the air conditioning of a convenient store, and drank copious amounts of gatorade before pushing on to Due West.  In Due West we ate at the same little cafe Susan, and I had eaten in a few months back on our doomed trip to Calhoun Falls.  We eat there because the food is pretty good, but mainly because it is the only place to eat in Due West.  I had my regular biking fuel, cheeseburgers.  As I munched my cheeseburger I couldn't help but think of the last time I was here.  We had 25 something more miles to go that day.  Today we only have 10, but I still had that foreboding feeling nagging at me.

As we ride towards Abbeville down highway 20 the sun has really gotten hot.  It's about 1:30 and it is hitting its zenith.  Fortunately we are almost there.  Only one hill left to climb.  It's short, but it's straight up.  I don't even see how cars do it, and there is no way we can.  We all slowly push our bikes to the top.  We suck up some much needed oxygen, climb back on, and ride the few blocks to the Abbewood.

The Abbewood is every bit as stately as the pictures on the internet, although up close she does show her age a bit, with chipped paint here and there, and an occasional loose porch board.  None of this takes away from the grandeur of the large, curved, wrap-around front porch though.  It is loaded with rockers, swings, and plants, and it is here we find the girls as we stumbled up the steps while carrying our load of stuff.  As they sit there rocking away they look like they are at a Cracker Barrel somewhere waiting for their table to be called.  I, on the other hand, look like a really sweaty bellhop as we walk in.  The inside really is marvelous with 12' ceilings and honey colored heartwood pine floors, and door facings. There is a huge, ornate header across the foyer, and a grand stairway twisting up to the second floor sitting room.  The Abbewoood oozes antebellum charm, but like most antebellum homes, the Abbewood is long on cachet, but short on bathrooms, so our two rooms are separated by a single bath just a little smaller than a tiny closet. The shower looks like a mail slot, and when you sit on the toilet your feet rest in the sink, but be that as it may, we are still happy to be here. We quickly dump our stuff and hop on the bikes for the half mile ride to town.

Abbeville is little shops, antique stores, and old southern charm, packed into 1800-1900 small town brick buildings.  It is here we split up.  Rod and I grab a seat on a bench in the shade while the girls shop.  In less than an hour the girls are ready to head back.  It seems the 60 mile ride took the edge off their shopping appetite, though Susan does manage to make a few purchases: a small book and a throw pillow as large as a couch cushion (now where’s that going?).  It's back to the Abbewood for showers, a quick nap, and a walk back for supper and the play.

By 6:30 we are sitting in the City Grill enjoying our dinner. By 8:00 we are sitting in the old Opera House awaiting Neil Simon's "Proposals" to begin.  By 9:00 I'm slowly nodding off.  By 9:30 it's like I'm watching the play with a very slow strobe light flashing; I'd watch a little and close my eyes, watch a little and close my eyes.  That kind of thing.  Now, this is not a commentary on the play, because the parts I had my eyes open were pretty good, it was just getting to be a really long day.  I did notice on one occasion when my eyes were opened that more than my head was nodding in our group.  By 10:30 I was startled by loud clapping and the cast taking bows.  Our little troupe moved out of the opera house, and onto the square. We slowly staggered back to the Abbewood.  The plans for dessert, and an after the play drink was not even brought up.  As my head hit the pillow, thoughts of tomorrow's ride are nowhere to be found. 

 

By 8:30AM we were sitting around a table eating breakfast with a couple from Michigan who thought we were completely insane for riding in this heat.  We pushed off by 9:20, and it didn’t take long before I was agreeing with them.  In Due West we sat under the oak trees, and ate some come cookies and trail mix, and talked about the sun and the humidity.  At 10:45 we pushed off for Donalds.  Right outside of Donalds the front tire on our tandem split the sidewall.

 

From past experience I had a spare tire.  This was a front tire so it was a quick change and we were soon in Donalds.  We hit the gatorade strong and ate some cold sandwiches and chips, and moaned about the heat and humidity.  I also thought about the miles ahead and no more spare tire.  12:15 we walked into the sun and rolled out of Donalds, and the last AC for a long time to come.  It was 1:00 when we started up Maddox Bridge Road. 

 

Now Maddox Bridge Road is like a giant check mark.  We rode down the short leg and up the long leg going to Abbeville.  Now, as we ride down the long leg we must obey the laws of biking; what you ride down you must bike up, and we start that steep short leg to the top.  Half way up, and I was in our lowest gear and struggling, but Susan wouldn’t let me walk.  I had to just keep pushing those pedals.  I felt like one of those slaves on a Roman Galley Ship.  Susan set the cadence; boom-boom, boom-boom, push-push, push-push, and fueled by steely, self-righteous indignation I pedaled on.  Finally we crested the lip and rolled to a stop to breathe, but the heat of the sun soon moved us on.  21 miles in 3 1/2 hours, and 37 still to go. 

 

The next strip is 1.5 miles of highway 25.  It is an oven with no shade.  Finally we turn onto Dairy Road. We are now stopping very 5 miles to rest, and cool down.  Our water is almost too warm to drink, but it still feels good sprayed over our heads and legs. At 32 miles we finally reach Hickory Tavern, and another store.  Two more bottles of gatorade.  The clerk puts our water bottles in the freezer for us while we drink our drinks, and just soak up the cool.  I watch the TV as the race starts, and think I’ll catch the end of it when I get home.  I mean it’s a 500 miler, and I only have 26 more to go.  At 2:30 we climb back on our bikes and push out again.  The sun has now become an opponent, and we curse it with each turn of the crank.  It’s trying to beat us, but we keep pedaling on, boom-boom, boom-boom, push-push, push-push.

 

We are now stopping every 3 miles, or wherever there is shade, as each of us is struggling with chills and dizziness at times.  A few more miles, and we stop at another store, and drink more gatorade.  18 more miles to go, and we have been out here for almost 6 1/2 hours.  I look at my actual biking time, and the computer says the bike wheels have only been rolling a little more than 3 hours.  We have spent as much time off the bikes as we have on the bikes.  I called Amanda to tell we were going to be later getting back than we had thought, but we would make it.  When I hung up I really had serious doubts though.

 

7.5 hours later we were riding through Fountain Inn.  Only 10 more miles to go and the rear tire sidewall failed.  It did not burst, but it was bulging and rubbing the fender.  I guess it was the sun but I said the hell with the tire we’ll ride it tell it pops.  Needless to say this did not go over to well with Susan who was sitting over the tire; especially as we flew down the long hill coming out of Fountain Inn.  It was at this time I saw Amanda in a service station jumping up and down and waving.  I locked her down and slid into the station.  I looked at my watch.  It had been 7 hours and 58 minutes since we had left the Abbewood. 

 

It seems Amanda and Ashley had started to worry about us.  Ash stayed by the phone, and Amanda and Reece drove out to find us.  As Cheryl and Susan jumped in the car with Amanda to go get the trucks, Rod and I sat on the curb drinking cold water, and letting the fatigue slowly drain away.  As I sat there knowing I didn’t have to ride anymore I commented on it being a nice trip actually, except for the heat.  “Yeah”, agreed Rod, ”except for the heat of course”.  Yeap,  it was a trip worth taking I thought .... in the spring, or the fall, or good Lord even in the dead of winter, but never, never, never in the middle of July!

 

Epilogue:

I never did see Ward Burton win the Lowden 500 in New Hampshire.  He finished his trip before we did.  Of course Ward only had to go 500 miles that day, we, on the other hand, went to hell and back.           

 

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