If I had known about Crooked Road, I might not have been so zealous to head north to Virginia from North Carolina to see the girl play Rugby. I let the husband plan the back-road day trip. It was an innocent enough start, like any other day bike trip-nice and easy. We headed north to cute little towns we had never seen in N.C. and stopped every hour or so and gave the body and bottom a rest. Getting closer to the Virginia border and the Blue Ridge Parkway made all my senses go on high alert.
The scene was stunning and the roads were coming at us sharper and curvier. There were yellow signs with the squiggly lined all up and down Crooked Road and the MPH kept switching up, often and fast. There’s a reason they call it “Crooked.” I know me-and the husband was glad he couldn’t hear me. He told me at the end, he heard me mumble the whole way through it. He’s right. I kept repeating the 23rd Psalm, over and over and over again for at least 30 minutes.
Not much between me and the pavement. As I write this, I am holding my breath. Really. We made it to Floyd at the end of that curvaceous route and took a breather. What a great little town. A gem in middle of the mountain. Not big at all, but lots of cute little shops and eateries and the town is known for its blue grass/folksy music scene. We vow to return for lunch.
Back on the bike, we made it to the girl’s rugby game. She is a beast on the field and shows us all her mad skills. They lost the game, but I have to think it’s because she had to sit the last 20 minutes out, due to injuries. She plays an important role- wingman- if they come her way she STOPS them- no one gets through her. She looked like I felt. Sore, bruised, worn out. She headed back to college in N.C. and we were back in the saddle again.
This time I decided that I needed to get my whole trust issues under control. I closed my eyes 30 seconds at a time and did that continuously down the mountain. I will say that it made a huge difference. I rode with more confidence as a back seat passenger and I think the husband will appreciate a mumbleless wife.
Home-butt sore and bone tired. 7 Hours of riding. We felt accomplished. This motorcycle chick felt pretty darn good. It was a good Saturday. “The Lord is my Shepherd…He leadeth me beside the still waters…He restoreth my soul.” Amen.
- Virginia, USA: falling for autumn glories (telegraph.co.uk)
- Virginia’s Musical Heritage Spread Over Four-Day Festival In Abingdon, VA (virtual-strategy.com)
- Great stops along the Blue Ridge Parkway (usatoday.com)