In two weeks Ashley and I head to the Outer Banks of North
Carolina. On the 8th we plan to catch
the
Friday I started getting my stuff together.
The list was pretty impressive, three pages long! As the pile begins to grow on the kitchen
table I started to wonder if the bike trailer would handle it all. As it begins to spill over on to the floor I
wondered if I could handle it. It's
amazing what you think you are going to need for an overnight trip to a
campground. I must have thought that after riding 55 miles with a loaded bike I
would feel like doing a little hiking, because I brought a pair of walking
shoes. I wore a pair of shoes, and
brought two other pairs! I had a tent,
sleeping bag, sleeping pad, stove, stove fuel, pots and pans, extra pair of
clothes, towel, candle lantern, flashlights, shaving kit, rain gear, food, camera,
palm computer, bug spray, tool bag, tools, flip-flops and hiking shoes. The trailer weighs 19 lb.s and I had 50 lb.s of
stuff in it, on it, tied to the bike rack, and stuffed in the front bag. When I started to pull out Saturday morning,
and I pushed down for that first pedal stroke I thought the bike was tied to a
post. I'm not sure which one of us
groaned the loudest, me or the bike.
As I wobbled down the road I had serious doubts about whether I
would make it, and that was just to the end of the subdivision! After a couple miles down the road I felt
like I was riding a bike with a rubber frame, and was certain that I would have
to turn back. As the front end shimmied
and shook down a small hill I noticed my handle bars were loose! With a white knuckled death grip on the bars
I finally rolled to a stop, and made repairs.
With freshly tightened handle bars my control had improved, and my
confidence soared. It still felt a
little rubbery, but at least it was manageable.
I was rolling along getting use to the different handling characteristics of a
loaded bike when my rolling slowed considerably. I had just rolled onto the base of a big hill
on Schuffletown road, and I noticed the first real
big handling difference. It was becoming
increasingly more difficult to get the wheels to roll over. My new granny gear I had installed a few
weeks ago, and was so proud of was taunting me now. Yes, it allowed me a gear ratio that was
easier to pedal, but at a speed so slow I was in danger of toppling over. But slowly, slowly I gained ground on my
first big "climb" of the day.
After Schuffletown it was just low rollers
into Fountain Inn, and from there it flattened out as I pedaled on to
The overcast sky, flat road, and my naiveté had me pedaling along happily
thinking this loaded touring was a piece of cake. Why, Ashley and I would do a hundred miles
the first day easy. I stopped at 24
miles to call Susan and give her an update.
She was stuck at a birthday party for 3 year olds while I was riding
free with the wind in my face, and the sun shining overhead. I had noticed that the clouds had blown a
way. I assured her I was doing great,
and besides, riding beat the heck out of a bunch of sugared-up screaming little
3 year olds. I told her I'd call her after I passed Laurens. I wiped the sweat off my forehead and pedaled
on. You know, the sun was really
starting to shine.
My next test was
Madden was a bait shop, and a gas station-grocery store-restaurant combo and
not much else. I opted to stop at the
gas station etc. My water had gotten to
warm to enjoy so I bought a big bottle of cold water to cool it down with. I also got a big
lemonade, and a candy bar. I was hoping
the candy bar would do for me what it does for Abby. I could use a bust of energy about now. No such luck.
I took one last big breath of "air condition" and stepped into
the heat. Next town was Cold Point. At least it sounded inviting. 3 miles to Cold Point; 5 miles to Waterloo; 4
miles to the Lake Greenwood Bridge and a deserved rest. It was
My bike threatened to fall over two or three times from lack of noticeable
forward motion, but I finally climbed my way up from the lake. I found the turn off for 246, and a sign
saying Greenwood State Park 10 miles. I hung a left, and started looking for a
shady spot to take a break. I was
calling Susan to come pick me up at the Park.
No way was I riding this back tomorrow.
This time I gave up looking for pity and went straight for the,
"It's killing me here!", "I'm dying", "Please, please,
please, come get me." She was still at the mall, but the plan was for me
to call when I got to the park, and she would come get me. OK. I could do that. I pulled into the park about an hour later
and just for fun rode through the campground.
I found a good site and decide "what the heck, I'm here". I pitched my tent and took a shower. I actually felt better. I called Susan and told her I was staying and
I would call in the morning. May she
could come get me then.
I rolled out the next morning at