I expected today’s ride to be a repeat of the first day on my 2017 post-retirement ride to Key West. Despite covering the same route, mostly it wasn’t.

As I was about to start, my son FaceTimed us from Thailand where he’s a scuba diving instructor. The good news is business is great. The bad news is that warming sea temperatures are causing coral bleaching near Thailand. It was a pleasant surprise talking with him.

After the chat, I hugged the daughter and kissed the wife and rolled down the front lawn, heading south via the last mile of the Mount Vernon Trail. The three-mile downhill to US 1 was worth the slog up to Mount Vernon.

The Adventure Cycling Atlantic Coast route that I am following goes around Fort Belvoir on Telegraph Road. This involves an incredibly difficult climb and traffic. No thanks. I used the side path on US 1 that goes straight through the base. There are hills but they are much more gradual.

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After Fort Belvoir came the slog up the hills of Lorton and past the rehabilitated buildings of the federal prison that used to be there. There's also an old Nike missle site. Those were the days.

Next up was down, down out of Fairfax County into the quaint town of Occoquan. There’s a nifty little bike-ped bridge across the Occoquan River as part of the route.

Alas, after crossing the river came the hellacious climb away from the river. I knew it was coming but that didn’t make it any easier.

Once at the top, I was rewarded with eight miles of truly ugly, car-centric suburbia in Prince William County. The world would be a better place if the military used this area for artillery practice.

I was really looking forward to escaping the sprawl, but it has become much more extensive since 2017. I finally turned onto the two-lane country roads that circumvent the Quantico Marine base. Rather than get relief I was treated to an endless parade of dump trucks and other commercial traffic intermixed with clowns in pickups and sports cars.

The shoulder was unpaved and all of two feet wide so I just kept trucking (so to speak) with dump trucks lined up behind me. Occasionally I pulled over to let them pass.

To take a break, I stopped for lunch at a Subway. I really didn’t feel like eating but when I got back on the Mule I could tell that my blood sugar had been low before the meal.

More dump trucks. I felt like I was in Oregon on the west side of the Cascades. It’s incredibly stressful riding even though the dump truck drivers were very considerate of my presence.

At one point a the driver of a flat bed truck passed me with smoke coming out of his exhaust only to nearly hit an on-coming dump truck before swerving back into my lane. It was fortunate that the dump truck driver slammed on his breaks or there would have been truck goulash. 

Once I made it past Quantico I had ridden 61 miles. The weather had been perfect so far but the sun came out and temperatures started climbing. I had planned to ride to a campground past Fredericksburg but my body wanted nothing to do with an 80+ mile day.

I expected to stop at an ice cream shop from 2017 but it was no longer in business. Waaa! I rode into Fredericksburg which has a beautiful historic district. I used the Google to find a Best Western hotel, one I knew was used by bicycle tourists. It was only a couple of miles away but it was on Virginia Highway 3, a bicycling death trap. And up a huge hill. And past interchanges with US 1 and I-95, or so I thought.

I was focused on not getting killed (the theme of the day) as I approached I-95. I saw a Dunks sign and thought of Connecticut. What I didn’t see was the Best Western sign above the Dunks sign. Once I realized my error, I turned around. So I rode a mile farther than necessary and traversed the I-95 interchange twice.

Ugh.

The hotel is fine. A welcome splurge on a very stressful day. I plan to lay waste to the hot breakfast in the morning. For dinner, I walked next door to Mama’s Chicken and ate a massive calorie bomb. (The mac and cheese is fantastic.)

I am happy to report that my body held up well. The range of motion in my neck isn’t 100 percent but I managed fine. My back is no worse for the wear.

Tomorrow’s I’ll ride to Ashland and pick up the TransAmerica Bicycle Trail. Westward ho!

Sorry about the lack of pictures but dump trucks aren’t picturesque.