Woke up at 6 (as usual) and decided to go back to sleep. Didn't think I'd sleep until 7:30, but I must have put my head under the covers or something. I packed up my stuff and looked out to see Pat stretching while looking at his maps of the AT. During our conversations the previous day, Pat called himself a turtle. Well, I had two tiny turtles with me and MEANT to put one on the beach at Yorktown and one in Oregon, but I forgot at Yorktown. I wasn't able to just abandon the little guy, but it just seemed right that Pat should have him. I told Pat he could be "Mountain Turtle" (he doesn't really have a trail name yet) and have my little turtle. I told him how I forgot to leave it at Yorktown, and he put it in his wallet and assured me that he'd take care of it and deliver Atlantic Turtle to the ocean when he got back to Florida. So now Atlantic Turtle has a better home. Pat, if you need to keep the little guy for inspiration instead of letting him go, feel free.
I headed out of Damascus much later than I usually do in the morning but still intending to make it to Council about 55 miles away. Well, the problem with that is that there are two mountains in the way.
Stopped in Meadowview for a map check and got pooped on by some bird, but at least that made me look up and see a cool old bike hanging from a sign above (pictures forthcoming--probably not today, though). Went into a diner and ended up talking to Wayne for about 30 minutes about farming and life in Montana and how steep the mountain I had to climb after leaving Meadowview was. There were some other people in the diner (combination of curious and annoying--some really genuinely interested in the trip and a couple of vocal "If it ain't got a motor, it ain't worth riding" types.
I made it over the first mountain (it wasn't nearly as bad as everyone made it out to be--just long) and decided that Elk Garden Methodist Church was going to be all the farther I made it that day. I knew I wanted to stay at Breaks and couldn't make it that far in one day, so it didn't really matter where I stopped. Plus, that gave me time to dry out the tent, do some laundry, and reorganize all my crap at the church. Amazing how the stuff in four little bags can explode into tables full of a rummage-sale looking mess.
Shortsville--where Pint Sized Hotties live (sorry--only some of you will get this)
Almost at the top of the climb (or so I thought). Also one of the few places I actually had a view of something other than the trees and rocks on the side of the road.
The other side was long, but not as bad as this! Glad I went up the long gradual side instead of the shorter steeper side (sorry EastBounders!) Had to stop part way down and let my rims cool off.
Jon being domestic and reacting incredulously to some of the messages people have left in the biker journal (like a person claiming to have TWO close encounters with Black Widows and telling us how to deal with them)
