Well the end is in sight. Six routes down and three left. Sunday is a transition day where we’ll drive from Atlanta to Jacksonville, Fl.
Yesterday we said goodbye to Trevor at a crossroads out in the country. He should be home by now.
And today we lose Beth, who travels home on a flight this afternoon.
We’ll miss both of them.
Mackay Asbury on patrol as we geared up.
Bikes look like they’re springing up from the ground as these elite athletes get ready to burn of the opposition.
Lee Ann Asbury – triathlete. Me? Scared? Nahh! And look at her bike..a bianchi, which was given to her..beautiful!
Dan Asbury – cyclist. Honestly, we weren’t scared! I mean how dumb do you have to be to have your name written on your bike in case you forget it?? (he’s not reading this is he?)
Do you think if I drop this plunger Dan’s bike will explode?
The whole group about to go.
Saturday was a brilliant ride. We’ve left the hills behind now and riding west of Atlanta we hit rolling terrain, not unlike the drumlin roads in Co Down.
Mackay Asbury from Glenn Memorial Church organised the route for us and rustled up a whole gand of cyclists to join us, including his brother Dan and sister-in-law Lee-Ann. Both competitive cyclists, and Lee-Ann is a nationally ranked triathlete. So we were riding with the real deal, as you’ll see in the photos.
I’ve been intrigued as to why this is known in Atlanta as the Silk Sheets Route. Lee Ann tells me its because any city routes are very heavy going, with big hills which in a group training ride make for very hard miles. When riders get out on these rolling hills it’s like slipping between silk sheets! Sounds good to me.
They both rode at the head of the group and set the most wonderful consistent pace over the roads which made for some great interval training (like we needed it). We lost little momentum up the hills and waited for our lungs to catch up when we rolled down the other side. And it’s the only bike ride I’ve ever done where two of the chief dangers to the riders were road crossing turtles, (one of whom had positioned himself perfectly on the crown of a bend) and snakes (although the big one we saw had already been dealt a mortal blow by a passing car).
Temperatures reached the 90s very early in the ride but we hardly noticed as we rattled oling in tight formation. We split after about 15 miles allowing some riders to take a shorter route home, and for trevor to leave us to go catch his plane home. We’ll miss him.
The end of the ride came too soon for me.
Thanks to Mackay, Dan and Lee Ann, and to all the other guys who joined us on one of the most exciting rides we’ve done.
Sunday is a day of rest, which began after we had showered and changed on Saturday. Team members left for their host homes, some slept for the afternoon, some sat by pools or on back porches and chatted (or visited, as they say in these parts), and some of us sat in coffee shops and read books. In the evening, friends and neighbours of Wes and Cheryl gathered at their home for a barbeque and afforded us all an opportunity to speak about Belfast and Skainos. The craic went on late into the night, even moving homes to continue. Wonderful hospitality once again.
Lunch at the highest point on the Parkway…rough and ready.
It looks stormy…but actually they’re getting on OK!
The Skainos Boys
Trevor Tim and Neil…especially glad that the Parkway is finished. Although Glenn said there was a flat part of about 3 miles, which proved to be uphill! But then his definition of flat is not the traditional understanding of the word.
Go here for more youtube footage
Yesterday we kinda slept late following the exertions of Stage 4. We drove up onto the Parkway, up the first climb to Mt Pisgah and enjoyed the view from the highest point on the route. There we lunched in the company of another touring company of cyclists and a bunch of motorbikers from various parts of the USA. There was a co-fraternity of two-wheelers.
We descended then down from the last peak about 20 miles. The guide showed a 3 mile flat stage near the middle of the descent, but it wasn’t. It was all up. I gave Trevor permission to beat me at the bottom of the hill (but he graciously forgave me…or forgot).
None of us had done this descent before but it was even more exciting than Mitchell. The middle section was never less than 40mph and by now you could have complete confidence that the bends were wide enough to avoid breaking. Quite wonderful.
In fact, in the final five miles I drafted behind a truck which was going slower and had no chance to overtake. The five or six tunnels on the way down were just long enough to raise the adrenaline when you hit that point in the middle where you could see neither road nor walls. The challenge – to keep up the speed all the way through.
Exiting at Cherokee, following Neil’s spectacular fall at 25 mph (only joking!) and Alan’s dip in the river, we drove to Atlanta to the company of Cheryl Griffith who provided us with a wonderful meal before we all made our way wearily to our hosts for the evening.
Trevor leaves on Saturday.
Photos to follow.
We exited the Blue Ridge Parkway today at its end in the town of Cherokee, NC, following an exhilarating descent. The town was full of native American memorabilia and sideshows, demonstrating its connection to the particular tribe. One of the passengers in our Toyota minivan was intrigued and wanted to know more of the background to the area. "Does anyone know which tribe of native Americans live in Cherokee?", he asked.
If I was to tell you that the questioner was one of Mark McCleary, Neil Morris, Trevor Ringland, Jools Hamilton and Alan McClelland…who would you think our bright spark was?
Answers in the comments.
We’ve uploaded lots and lots of other photos onto the crookedshore flickr site….here.
We’re here…the day we’ve anticipated…now do we go north or south?
The tough life of a sag driver. After feeding the riders,only just a few moments to grab some necessary sustenance (ice-cream) before hitting the road again.
Remind me…whose idea was this ride anyway? He never told me it would be this hard.
Bury me in the flag, where I fall. Alan Mc at the top of Mount Mitchell.
Triumphant Trevor trundles over the line at the top.
The sun sets on a glorious day on top of the mountain. And Trevor Ringland takes yet another One Small Step. From the left: Tim Van Meter, Neil Morris, Trevor Ringland, Beth Harding, Jools Hamilton, Alan McClelland, Glenn Jordan.
Yesterday was tough. Very tough. We rode on the Blue Ridge Parkway for around 90 miles in temps reaching 80 degrees fahrenheit, ending on a big climb up Mount Mitchell before descending 18 miles into Asheville. When we checked into our hotel after 8 or 9 hours on the road we were too tired to go out to eat so we ordered in a Chinese meal, ate in the room and told stories of the day.
Tough though it was the scenery will not be forgotten and we stopped frequently at the viewpoints to see fold after fold of the Blue Ridge Mountains stretching away to the horizon.
Anybody who sponsored a rider got their money’s worth yesterday!
Well done all, and epic ride.
