Last night’s dinner from 7-11 was a fine repast. A jumbo hot dog, a big bag of tater chips, a small bag of M&Ms, and a tall Arnold Palmer (sans alcohol).

I slept well using ear plugs to drown out the TVs in the hotel. Something big must have happened in the news.

The breakfast bar was no match for my hunger. Coffee, OJ, biscuits and sausage gravy, scrambled eggs, home fries, and a turkey sausage patty. Burp.

I took an apple for the road then packed slowly allowing the temperature outside to rise above 60 degrees.

I learned today that the Google doesn’t do country roads very well. It started me the wrong way on a two-lane, one-way road. Next it routed me onto US 29, a four-lane bicycle death trap. Later it routed me onto a gravel road. This worked out fine. Eventually. A half hour later it did it again. This time the road crossed a cattle guard and ended at a farmer’s gate.

The paved alternative looked good until I arrived at an active stone quarry. A man at the quarry ungoogled me and I was soon on flat Rapidan Road, zooming south with the aid of a tailwind.

After climbing a steep hill in Orange, I stopped at a brewpub for lunch. The food was great even if the condiments were a bit pretentious.

After Orange I turned onto Virginia Highway 20 and headed 22 miles straight to my hotel. The road was rolling up and down mile after mile with each hill getting higher than the last. The traffic picked up and the drivers were impatient. The first tall building I came to was my hotel, high on a hill, of course. It’s next to a Wawa so I know where I’m eating tonight.

Hotels here are nearly double the price from last week. I blame Brandon. Still I sprung for another Holiday Inn Express because the psychological impact of staying in fleabag hotels is one of my least favorite aspects of bicycle touring.

I have booked a sofa at the Cookie Lady’s house tomorrow night. I hope also to ride the new tunnel under the Blue Ridge. I not looking forward to the brutal climbing during the day but I’m as ready as I can be.