It was that perfect day.
A perfect ride seemed only natural.About 25 minutes north of us is the mountian town of Galax Virginia. Sadly past it's prime as most of these little towns now find themselves. It is never-the-less, blessed with "one sweet ride".
Rails to trails are parks where there was once a railroad. The rails, now pulled up, what is left is a 56 mile "linear parkway" running from Galax to Pulaski Virginia. Along most of it's length it follows the beautiful New River.
All of the trestles, bridges and tunnels are still here. Many park features have been added for camping and picnicing. And may I add that the Virginia Parks System keeps things in top shape. It is quite simply, the jewel in the crown for this part of Virginia. We consider ourselves extremely fortunate to live so close to a "treasure".
Now, bicycles have been a part of my life since I was, maybe, 5 years old. I remember the feeling, the freedom, my world was suddenly bigger. I was a big kid now. Sandy and I try to ride as often as possible. While we are living in France, velos (bicycles) are the norm. We use them to get almost anywhere in or around our little seaside village. It's really quite liberating. That is there, this is here. Here, it is more casual, more recreational. Not so practical as the principal way to get around.
Today, however, a ride for ridings sake. 12 miles down to Fries Junction, on the river, and 12 miles back. Nearly flat all the way. Following Chestnut Creek, a broad stream tumbling over boulders, even a waterfall at one point. Shaded a good portion of the way, trees arching over the trail. It couldn't possibly be a more perfect ride. Long curving trestles, high above the stream. A tunnel, it's cold breath blowing out at you, maybe a hundred feet before you enter. Blackness, a disc of light ahead, almost spooky as you make your way tenatively through it's darkness. And, at the junction, a nearly 1/2 mile long bridge taking you across the New River, the clap, clap, clap of the floor boards as your tires pass over. Mesmerizing!
Beautiful just doesn't do it justice.
Oh... and today, I'm in good form. I've got the legs. I've got the lungs. 12 miles to the junction. 43 minutes. Oh yeah! You do the math! And Sandy... right there with me. So cool! She rides an hour a day either on stationary or on a trail. I'm impressed, for her and for me. Then, I remember watching the Tour de France last month. 16-17 mph, they were doin' it uphill, 12 percent grade.
Oh well. I'm still plenty happy with that. A brief rest. heart's pumpin', a bit slower now. The air, so clean, the breathing easy. warm sun, a subtle breeze, the river lazily courses by. I have absolutely no problems at this moment. Except, perhaps, the thought of 12 miles back to Galax.
I had ridden hard this morning on the trip down. Won't so hard on the trip back. Don't have it in me to ride that hard back. But hey, trails like these are just made for a lazy ride. Just like the river, we will get there.
This time, I see, hear and feel more, but one benefit to slowing down a bit. Summer's peak. Everything's so green. flowers blooming, the creek tumbling over it's boulders to my left. Nice! So nice! About the midpoint, we stop at Chestnut Falls, a now fimiliar picnic shelter with a four star view. The rest, welcome by now. The sub sandwich, surprisingly tasty. We are refreshed. it's a lazy 6 more miles back to Galax. Have to admit, I was a bit knackered by the time I reached the parking lot at Galax. But, I had ridden well, very well this morning.
A good ride. No... a perfect ride, and, a slice of the perfect day.
A little tradition has evolved to cap these now somewhat frequent rides. Up the road from the park, maybe half a mile, Bea's Resturant. The object of my desire, the ice cream. A large cone of the darkest chocolate soft serve I've ever seen.
Does that hit the spot!
I just love these little traditions.
Don't you?
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