About 24 hours ago we left for Damascus, VA, some 60 miles west then north of our location near Blowing Rock, NC. The overcast skies and brisk southwest winds were just as forecast, as was a strong line of showers before a cold front approaching from Middle Tennessee. We booked a shuttle and geared up for only the first half of the Virginia Creeper Trail--the 17 mile all-downhill segment from Whitetop Station, VA back to Damascus, a section we've fondly referred to as The Glide.

For the first 3-4 miles one need only ride the rear brake from time to time. After that, some mild pedaling is needed to maintain an easy pace, but the exertion required isn't even enough to cause one to break sweat. We got back to Damascus in a touch over 2 hours, as there were fewer photo stops than normal and given our concern over the approaching storms.

But, back in cellphone reception territory just outside of town, my handy-dandy weather radar-receiving cellphone showed a Moses-like parting of the eastbound wetness, with its apex directly over Damascus and Abingdon, VA. With that as our inspiration, we stopped at Blue Blaze, paid the additional fee, and headed west on the second half of the VCT, a section we'd not ridden before. The route from Damascus to Abingdon takes you across a pastoral stretch of the Valley and Ridge geological province. More on those ridges later.

Having studied the topos carefully and having looked at the published topographic profile of the trail, we knew we'd lose a bit more elevation for the for the first 8 miles, then pick it all back up, plus another 100', over the last 8 miles. The track was a bit soft in places from recent rains, and the downhill gradient so slight that rather vigorous pedaling was required. Nevertheless, it was a very nice ride once we passed the more or less industrialized western section of Damascus itself. We followed Laurel Creek through a gorge it had kindly cut through a sandstone ridge and thence into the valley of the South Fork of the Holston River, the headwaters of the once-mighty Tennessee River.

From the crossing point of the South Holston Reservior (which pools up the river for some miles above and below the crossing), we entered a beautiful pastoral area completely away from roads. The rail trail punches through two ridges of shale sandwiched between karst-ridden limestone valleys, ridges named "River Knobs" and "Great Knobs", and across 5 or 6 long trestles over pastureland which had been built to allow the railroad to maintain elevation as it rose from the river to Abingdon.

But it was uphill, and soft, for 8 miles, and we were each somewhat winded and cramping up a bit by the time we reached mile 0 at Abingdon. It was far from difficult, but we named the segment "The Pump" in order to distinguish if from The Glide. A short shuttle ride back to Damascus returned us to our little Equinox and the road back to North Carolina.

Along the way we enjoyed a brand-new bypass segment of TN 91 between Laurel Bloomery and Mountain City, and we scrapped plans to go out to dinner, realizing once we got to the house and showered and rested a bit, there'd be no joy in saddling up for a 7 mile drive down the mountain and into town, after dark, and in misty rain and fog.

But a grand feast was prepared by Mr. Stouffer in the form of a big lasagna. With a cold Rolling Rock and a long, hot shower taken while it warmed in the oven, we sat down to dinner, a glass of red wine (OK, two glasses), and a dessert of Edy's ice cream. Then bedtime for this cowboy. I enjoyed nearly 9 hours of sack time interrupted only by leg cramps.

Today sees the cold front having passed overnight, bringing crystal-clear skies, so I had the rare pleasure of seeing a full moon (the Harvest Moon!) setting over Beech Mountain as I arose at 6:30. I can now see the entire horizon and can report the leaves are a-changing at 4,000' and above. Grandfather Mountain, just a few miles to my south and 2,000' higher, beakons. I think I'll be driving up this time, in deference to my aching legs and my bride's continuing slumber. Waking her now in order to get started on a hike seems unwise.

So, some Blue Ridge Parkway, Grandfather, and perhaps a gravel road side-trip will precede Art in the Park in the town of Blowing Rock. More tonight or tomorrow.

Foy