To Yorktown, the Final Leg on the Trail

After an informative, private tour (private because it was the first tour on a Monday morning and Dad was the only one there) at Ash Lawn-Highland, where he only had to pay a $4 entrance fee instead of $9 because he arrived by non-motorized means, my dad rode 58 miles to Louisa, Virginia. It was cool and cloudy all day.

James Monroe's home, Ash Lawn-Highland.



Ash Lawn-Highland

Statue of James Monroe.

On Tuesday, October 5th, it was 38 degrees when my dad left the motel. He used his rain jacket because his windbreaker wasn't enough to keep him warm. Dad went off-route 2 miles to Chuck and Jean's home in Bumpass, and had lunch with Jean. He also got to meet their grandson, Zachary, who was younger than two years old. It was a pleasant lunch. In the afternoon, my dad luckily avoided getting hit by a school bus when he stopped before an intersection to verify directions on his map. The driver of the bus assumed my dad was going to turn right and didn't stop at the intersection as he turned right. At that point, another cross-country cyclist named Paul from Canada, met up with my dad and they rode together until Paul turned off for a shortcut. As he continued to ride, my dad got to thinking and realized that most of Bicycle Route 76 goes by college towns. He figured that when this route was made in the 70s, most of the cyclists were probably college students. Dad ended his day after 57 miles in Ashland, Virginia.



The Chuck and Jean Gritizus Estate


On Wednesday, he rode 63 miles to Haupt's Country Store, just east of Charles City. Dad had a detour at a road closure that added 7 miles to his trip. He also got stopped by a cop for running a red light. Dad swore he had a green light, but the cop told him that it would be impossible because there was no traffic and bikes can't trip the signal. Luckily, he didn't get a ticket and he can't exactly figure out why. Dad thinks the cop thought he was a local and when he found out that he was just passing through on a cross-country trip, he decided to let him go. Later, the motel that he was going to stay at was out of business and the B&B at the next stop was closed. He went in to Haupt's Country Store to ask if there was a motel close by and that conversation led them to letting Dad camp behind their store. Dad visited Cold Harbor, the site of two battles. In one of the battles, 16,000 people were killed or wounded in just 6 hours. When Dad returned to his camp after dinner, there was another cyclist planning to camp there too. She was a young lady that Dad met briefly in Missoula, with her boyfriend. The boyfriend was heading to Boulder, Colorado, and she was heading east. As they were talking, a cat kept trying to get into Dad's tent. It would climb on top of Dad's tent and kept hanging around. In the middle of the night, when the dew set in, Bill could smell cat urine, and he realized that he was probably sleeping on top of its litter box.



When the Virginia Department of Transportation says road closed, they are serious.  Notice the pile of rocks blocking the road.



Getting close to the end of the trip.



Glass-blowing in Jamestown.



Old church at Jamestown.



Swamp near Jamestown.

On Thursday, October 7, Dad completed the last 55 miles of the trail to Yorktown, Virginia. That morning, he was going to eat at the restaurant in town, but it never opened, so he ate what was left in his bag, which included a stale bagel, peanut butter and jelly, and some cookies. Once he got into Yorktown, he went to a bicyclist-only hostel run by Grace Episcopal Church, which had magnificent views. It was a house set in grass behind a church used for Sunday school and meetings that overlooked the river. There were 5 cyclists and 4 beds. My Dad was one of the last to arrive. He came in at the same time as another cyclist, so they flipped a coin to see who would get the last bed, and my dad spent the night on a couch in the basement. It was sort of an unceremonious ending to his cross-country trip, but Dad went out to have a beer on his own. He did enjoy finding out that the others who were on the rollercoaster hills last week, used the same Highway 11 shortcut that he did and that he wasn't the only one who thought they were unnecessary.



Yorktown at last.



The cyclist-only hostel in Yorktown.



A view from the hostel of a schooner being put to sea.

  Kurt, one of the other cyclists staying at the hostel, and my Dad palled around the next afternoon. They took pictures of Yorktown, as well as ceremonial pictures of the bike tire in James River, showing that Dad had made it from one end of the country to the other. They went to dinner and relaxed with a low-key day. Dad rode a total of 1 mile.



Ceremonial dipping of the front bike wheel in east coast water.



Bill in front of a Yorktown restaurant.



Riverwalk in Yorktown.



Yorktown Battlefield

Now, it was time to head to D.C. to catch the train home. He didn't want to leave since the hostel was so nice overlooking the river; this was his destination for 3 months (and even longer with all the planning he did for this trip) and now that he was leaving, he had to acknowledge that his adventure was over. It was a little melancholy. A church member gave Bill a ride over the James River since bikes aren't allowed on the bridge, and then he continued for 57 miles to Tappahannock, Virginia, where Dad splurged and stayed at a Holiday Inn Express and watched the UNC, his alma mater, versus Clemson football game live. UNC won!

On Sunday, the 10th, Dad rode 54 miles to Fredericksburg, where he rested. He also got to meet up with some people and hang out a bit.

He rode 11 miles into Historic Fredericksburg and walked around town on Monday. He took a trolley tour of the town and mentioned it was sobering to know that in the four battles near Fredericksburg, there were 100,000 casualties.


Historic Downtown Fredericksburg

On the 12th, Dad rode 64 miles to Arlington, Virginia. He took the scenic route via Mount Vernon, which is longer than going up U.S. 1. Two nice things happened this day. He stopped at the National Museum of the Marine Corp, where his friend, Andy, is a docent. Andy saw my dad on the road on the way to the marine base and met up with Dad and gave him a tour. They also got to have lunch together. Earlier in the day, a guy moving with a U-Haul van stopped my dad and asked him why he stopped so far back from the intersection. He was a cyclist too. Dad told him he was following someone in Saint Louis who did that, and Dad thought it was a good idea. The guy invited my Dad to his house, which was just 3/4 mile off-route, for some water and conversation. The guy's friend, Lance, was there at the house and offered my dad a place to stay in Arlington. This was so helpful since Dad didn't know where he was going to stay and didn't want to spend a lot of money on lodging. He stayed with Lance for two nights.


Entrance to the National Museum of the Marine Corps.



Dad's friend, Andy, commanded these weapons in Vietnam.



Another view of the museum.



Blurry picture of Dad and Andy.



The Potomac River

On Wednesday, Lance drove my dad into Washington D.C., on his way to work. Bill wondered up and down the city all day, including the National Mall. Even though, my dad has been to D.C. many times, this was the first time he was able to just wander around and take it all in. He had a good time. He took mass transit back to Lance's home and took Lance out to dinner.


A memorial to the women who served in Vietnam.



A scene from Washington D.C.



Korean War Memorial



The Korean War Memorial



The Vietnam War Memorial Wall.



The Vietnam War Memorial



World War II Memorial



World War II Memorial

It was raining on Thursday, the 14th, and Lance showed Dad a way to get to D.C. via Fort Meyers to avoid the traffic. Riding into the city in the rain was the perfect way to end the tour because it was a beautiful ride with nice city views. Plus, he was riding into the capital of our country and that was majestic somehow. Since it was raining, he didn't go sightseeing again. He spent two hours boxing his bike and boarded his train, which left on time. He got to use the first class lounge since he had a roomette ticket from Chicago to Martinez, California. It was very busy in Chicago, which reminded him how popular the roomettes are. Dad is on his way home and will be there by the end of the day on the 17th.