French Camp is a rustic, multi building B&B run in support of a girl ‘s school by the same name.
I shared a house with two riders. I slept on a couch rather than use the hide-a-bed within. One of my roommates snored all night. This wouldn’t have been a problem if I could find my ear plugs. I found them this morning. Ugh.
Breakfast was provided by the B&B. It was delicious.
Each day a group of two or three riders is responsible for dinner, breakfast, and lunch. Today the crew was Denise, Dave, and I. Someone had to get to the night’s camp and go grocery shopping in the van. It didn’t sound like the other two could get there without deleting dinner so I decided to try to hammer out the day’s miles as fast as possible.
This went okay until Denise and her riding partner Josh passed me after 24 miles. This was a good thing because there was no way I could keep riding at 15 mph for another 69 miles.
The old Natchez Trace pathway
Roadside red clover
I deliberately slowed down but my body wanted nothing to do with the next 25 miles and an emerging headwind.
My legs rebounded for the last 20 miles and I arrived in camp as Denise rode off to Walmart for supplies.
After setting up my tent and showering i joined Dave in getting things set up. Denise was the boss chef and she cooked three types of goulash. Greg was in charge of frying. I was the gofer, back and forth to the van, water pump, and dumpster.
Denise did a fantastic job. Everyone was well fed.
We cleaned up and went to bed exhausted. I didn’t sleep a wink all night again which is becoming a problem.
In the morning we set up breakfast, made coffee and cocoa, and set up a table for riders to make their lunches. After cleaning up we were released to saddle up and take on the day’s 54-mile ride, about which more on the next post (assuming I have a cell signal).
After a hotel breakfast we loaded our non-biking gear into the van, gathered our lunch and snacks , and pedaled a mile and a half though Natchez to the start of the Trace.
It was chilly and I wore multiple layers. I was overdressed and stopped three times in the first two hours to de-layer.
The road surface on the Natchez Trace Highway is perfect. The terrain went from level to gentle up- and down-slopes.
After 13 miles we left the Trace for a mile to check out Emerald Mound, the second largest Indian mound in the country dating from 1300 to 1600. It features two tiers and is enormous.
The lower portion and right half of Emerald Mound
Back on the Trace we cruised along for another 20 miles. There we left the Trace to check out Windsor Ruins. These columns are what remains of a massive plantation house that burned to the ground in 1890 when a party guest dropped a lit cigarette.
Windsor Ruins
In Port Gibson, we briefly rode on Highway 61, the famous Blues Highway
This side trip was hillier and bumpier than the main route. We were ducking wind until the descent into Port Gibson where we raided a small grocery store (that was once a Piggly Wiggly).
After snacks and drinks we continued on for another 17 miles to Rocky Springs campground. We were expecting pit toilets but were happy to see actual restrooms (with no showers and no potable water).
We’ve been stopping at nearly every historical sign, most of which seem to describe Grant’s grind toward nearby Vicksburg.
Dinner was a feast cooked by Jeff and Beth Ann our tour leaders. No complaints from my tummy.
I neglected to mention The Mule hit 79,000 miles recently.
Today began with the entire 15-person tour group assembled after a pretty decent hotel breakfast. Tour co-leader Jeff climbed atop the mega-van and loaded all 15 bikes without injury to anyone or anything. Pretty impressive. Meanwhile Beth Ann loaded the trailer with our gear. I worried that I had over done the gear thing but a few others had even more stuff.
We didn’t lose a single bike.
We piled into the van and Jeff drove us two hours south to Natchez. I wore an N 95 mask and had a pretty good headache when we arrived at the hotel. We put our gear in our rooms and met at the van. Jeff expertly unloaded the bikes and Beth Ann set up a mini-deli where we made sammies and grabbed snacks.
After that I headed out on a 13-mile ride around Natchez. It was chill, literally and figuratively. I wore all the things.
During the ride I was chased briefly by a ferocious dog. This chihuahua gave chase but stopped at the first speed bump.
Natchez is your basic southern town; think Mayberry but poor. I stopped at the Melrose estate with its Greek Revival mansion; the Spanish moss on the trees was more interesting to me. Another stop was the Grand Village of the Natchez Indians, which had three burial mounds. Interesting but kind of underwhelming . The best stop was atop the bluffs overlooking the Mississippi.
Spanish moss with Melrose in the distance
Looking up the Mississippi
After the ride we had a couple of organizing meetings and some dinner in the hotel lobby. I must say the tour leaders seem to have their act together which is a big relief.
Tomorrow we start the tour on the Natchez Trace in earnest; a 60+ mile day to a primitive campsite. There is an optional side trip to the ruins of a plantation but I’m going to stick to the main route.
The weather forecast is about as good as it gets. Fingers crossed.
I left home at 8 a.m. and arrived in Titusville, Alabama, just east of Birmingham, at nightfall. Traffic was mercifully light with only a couple of slowdowns in eastern Tennessee.
My bike rack made buzzing noises the whole way but I fought back with loud music. I’m deaf now but them’s the breaks.
I took a bio break at a truck stop and checked hotel prices in Birmingham. They’re very high. So I grabbed a truck stop salad to save some money on dinner and drove until I saw a decent hotel. They gave me a 10% discount which was more than offset by over $40 in taxes. I kid you not.
The room is nice and the place is quiet. Tonight there are raging storms about 300 miles west of here. Some will pass through overnight. I expect to drive in heavy rain for 4 or 5 hours tomorrow. At least my bike will be clean.
With warming temperatures it was time to put on some shorts and go long. I’m still not completely over my cold but I have to take advantage of this weather while I can.
On Monday I rode The Mule into a stiff headwind for about 27 miles. My route was flat for the first 15 miles, using the Mount Vernon and Rock Creek Trails. Most of the rest of the ride was the gradual uphill to Bethesda on the Capital Crescent Trail.
I stopped at a trailside rest area just before Bethesda Row and had a packet of Belvita breakfast biscuits. 230 calories. Then I continued northwest past the National Institutes of Health and through North Chevy Chase.
I took a right on Beach Drive in Rock Creek Park and followed it all the way back to Georgetown where I retraced my route back home. All told I rode 54 1/2 miles. It was nice having a tailwind for the second half. I realized that 230 calories is nowhere near enough so I made a mental note to up my food game.
Monday was a rest day. I tootled around the Fort Hunt area where I lived for 20 miles. I felt sluggish before I rode but as soon as I started pedaling my body was, you might say, in gear.
My original training plan was to do 50 miles, rest, 60, rest, 70 rest. Today the weather was pretty darn good. Sunny skies with temps up into the 70s. So off I rode, once again following yesterday’s route to DC. This time, however, the wind was at my back. After a cheese sandwich snack, I left the Capital Crescent Trail after a couple of miles and climbed the steepish hill away from the river to MacArthur Boulevard. I took MacArthur six miles west, including the grind over the reservoir complex. At Persimmon Tree Road I left MacArthur and climbed. After about a mile the road transitioned to rollers, just the kind that can wear you down. At River Road in Potomac I took a left and headed west. River Road has a series of challenging hills that are definitely granny worthy. Just when I thought I had run out of gas I came to Seneca Creek where I took a left and rode to Rileys Lock on the C&O.
To get to the towpath I crossed over the dry canal. I hadn’t counted on the sides of the canal being so steep so I didn’t have enough momentum to crest the far side of the ditch. I came to a stop and planted my right foot. I knew I was in trouble. It was just too steep. As I swung my left leg over the bike to dismount, the bike and I slid and we toppled over to the right. I heard a “SNAP” on impact. After feeling utterly foolish for falling, I got it together and pushed the now-upright bike onto the towpath.
After a few hundred yards I was happy to see that my fall hadn’t damaged the rear derailer. All my gears worked just fine. The snap faded from my thoughts. I pedaled aggressively down the towpath, now into a headwind, several miles back to Great Falls Park where I stopped to eat my PB&J sammie and reload my water bottles.
Rather than continue down the flat towpath, I climbed about a mile out of the park back to MacArthur Boulevard. The climb is very much like those out west, anywhere between one and four percent grade, requiring more persistence than strength. One thing I noticed is that my climbing form had reverted to the mechanics I used so successfully in my cross country ride in 2018.
Over the top I rode with the big metal things down the windy wooded slope. This is one of my favorite stretches of road in the DC area. Once at the Old Anglers Inn, the road levels out. Now I had to grind away for about 27 miles to get back home.
As I rode I munched on my last packet of Belvitas, stashed in my vest pocket. I could tell that I was starting to flag when I had to re-cross the hill at the reservoir. I was pooped.
Just keep going.
When I arrived at Gravelly Point Park I stopped to finish off my Belvitas and watch a few planes land into the headwind. While watching I felt something odd about my right break lever. As it turns out the snap that I heard during my pathetic flop was a piece of plastic trim on the brake lever. Other than protecting the inner workings of the lever from rain, I don’t think it has much of a purpose. I guess I try to find a replacement somewhere or, failing that, attempt a superglue repair.
The broken plastic bit. Annoying!
The last 11+ miles were a slog but I made it home in one piece just before the sun set. The middle of my back was pretty achy (it felt fine while riding) so I took an Advil. I’m going to slide my saddle back a smidge to see if that helps.
My total mileage today was 77 1/2. That’s the longest I’ve ridden since late July and easily the hilliest ride I’ve done since the 50 States.
Tomorrow is a rest day. I go to the eye doctor and maybe get a Covid booster. (I need to check with my insurance to see if they’ll pay for it.) And maybe I’ll bring my bike to some shops near home to see if they have that plastic brake part.
As for this evening, I will eat like a Conehead. Mass quantities.
A Few Spokes Shy of a Wheel 