Sunday, November 16
The engine of Pegi's SUV strained to climb the
driveway as she departed my son's house on Lake Allatoona. The opportunity
to change my mind vanished with her departure. I gave my son a bear
hug and said my good-byes. I rode north on Wilderness Camp Rd and
then turned west on Canton Highway (SR 20) to travel around Lake Allatoona.
When I reached US 41, I turned south for a distance and then turned east
to Red Top Mountain State Park. On the south side of Red Top Mountain,
I took Old Hwy 92 north of Acworth and through Woodstock. From Woodstock,
I used county roads (Arnold Mill, Batesville, Providence, Bethany, &
McGinnis Ferry) north of Alpharetta that took me passed business office
complexes and through the Towne Lake Mall area. Even though it was
Sunday, there was plenty of traffic. Now I know why the Atlanta area
cyclists enjoy visiting rural SE GA for rides.
While traveling east on McGinnis Ferry Rd north
of Duluth, I turned south on Rogers Bridge Rd. A portion of this
road is unpaved. My maps indicated that Rogers Bridge Rd crosses
the Chattahoochee River, but road signs indicated otherwise. I chose
not to take the gamble, so I took Boles Rd, Abbotts Bridge Rd, and Peachtree
Industrial Blvd to re-join Rogers Bridge Rd south of the river. I
rode through Duluth and got on the Sugarloaf Parkway. This parkway
is a divided 4-lane with a heavy traffic. I mentally referred to
this route as the "Sugarloaf Raceway" hosting an amateur stock car race.
Presumably, the winner is the driver who arrives home first.
| The Parkway has a 3' wide bike lane and motorists
were respectful of my presence. While crossing an intersection, my
bike pump fell to the pavement, and the tire of the car behind me missed
it by inches. I rode Sugarloaf Parkway 12 miles to south of Lawrenceville
and turned south on Old Snellville Hwy towards Grayson.
While in a residential area in Grayson, I stopped a young female jogger and asked directions. We talked briefly about cycling. I suggested that she attend BRAG next year. She wished me good luck and gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder as I clipped in the pedals to leave. It was dusk when I arrived at my friend's house. I had completed 90 miles for the day. I was exhausted from pulling my BOB trailer that weighed 40 lbs with gear. |
|
Monday, November 17
I spent the day with my friend, Neal. Neal
and I once owned a house in Alpharetta back when we were newly single-again.
We had not had a reunion in years. He began cycling this year and
lost 40 lbs. He began with a Giant hybrid, but now owns a Trek 2300
also. Obviously, he's hooked. We took my C'dale to Cycle Works
for a new middle chain ring. The old chain ring was worn out, and
it skipped when under heavy torque. I logged one mile around the
parking lot testing the new chain ring.
Tuesday, November 18
Neal and I rode 25 miles together through Rosebud,
Walnut Grove, and to Jersey. We stopped at Gertrude's in Jersey for
a lunch of country-fried steak and two veggies. Upon seeing Neal's
rear-view mirror attached to his eyeglasses, our waitress thought he was
half-blind. We had a chuckle over her mistaken impression.
Gertrude's other patrons were curious; they alternated their glances from
Neal to me to the picture window where they could see our bikes parked
outside. Neal commented between bites of steak, "Your bike trailer
is getting attention".
After lunch, Neal turned north and rode back to Grayson, and I continued south to Social Circle. I found a Winn-Dixie, purchased can food, bananas, bagels, and a 2-liter Dew, and bungeed them over the top of the BOB bag. I took county roads to Hard Labor Creek State Park. I chose campsite #1 near the comfort station at the State Park. After setting up camp, I took a shower, washed my clothes, and had dinner. The rain forced me into my tent at 6 PM, and it fell hard all night. It stopped around 4 AM. I remained dry, but the tent fly and ground cloth were soaked and heavy when I packed them on Wednesday morning.
Wednesday, November 19
Deer at Hard Labor Creek State Park are accustomed
to the presence of humans; two wide-eyed doe stood at roadside and stared
at me as I rolled away from the campsite area headed towards Rutledge.
The town of Rutledge is located a few miles south of the park. It
has an antique shop with an interesting name - Fleas and 'Tiques.
I sat on the steps of the gazebo on the square and had a Little Debbie
oat bar snack. I obtained directions from one of the locals to Centennial
located near I-20. A trucker sent an encouraging toot from his horn
as I crossed the bridge over the interstate; I waved in return. I
found the community of Centennial and stopped at the church for water.
After filling my CamelBak, I continued to Godfrey. In Godfrey, I
took Godfrey Rd through the Oconee National Forest towards Eatonton.
This was the most enjoyable leg of my tour due to low traffic and scenic
views. I noticed numerous faded road markers from a previous organized
bike ride. Obviously, other cyclists have discovered this excellent
bike route also.
Non-cyclists have pity on self-contained cycle tourists. I visited the public library in Eatonton and asked to use a computer to send e-mails to inform family and friends of my progress. In order to follow regulations, the librarian requested to see identification, but I had forgotten to bring it. She offered to send messages for me. We sat together at the computer while I dictated a message, but within two minutes, she offered the keyboard to me and returned to her desk. On my way out of town, I stopped at Popeye's for chicken and red beans and rice. The waitress mentioned to me that she filled my beans and rice bowl to capacity. I thanked her for her generosity. After lunch in Eatonton, I rode south to Milledgeville on US 441. US 441 crosses Lake Sinclair at two locations, but the threat of passing traffic did not allow me to enjoy the scenery.
I intended to camp at the Baldwin Co. Public Fishing
Area on US 441 south of Milledgeville, but I was unable to find it.
I was exhausted after hauling a heavy rain soaked tent for 68 miles.
I wanted to pitch my tent before nightfall so that it would dry.
At 4 PM, I coasted off US 441 onto an unmarked dirt road where I found
a planted pine grove with a thick bed of soft pine straw. I had to
heave my bike and loaded BOB over a barricade of dead trees and a cable
to reach my secluded campsite. There was a "Posted - No Trespassing"
sign, but I was too weary to care. Before midnight, a truck rattled
down the road, and I heard a shotgun blast. Fortunately, I was not
the intended target.
Thursday, November 20
My original plan was to take SR 112 and Old Toombsboro
Rd from Milledgeville to Dublin; in retrospect, I should have followed
it. A few extra miles, hills, and rough road surfaces will not kill
you but traffic can. The thought of backtracking to connect with
SR 112 did not appeal to me, so I continued south from my impromptu campsite
on US 441 towards Dublin. The DOT is currently adding another lane
to US 441. At times, I was able to ride on the new sections that
were not yet open to auto traffic. At other times while riding with
18-wheeler traffic, I feared for my life. I quoted the 23rd Psalm
often. US 441 has shoulders, but the shoulders have rumble strips.
My distaste for them increased every time my wheels drifted onto them.
I was relieved when I arrived at the Dublin city limits where I anticipated riding in slower traffic and diverting from US 441. I noticed where Old Toombsboro Rd connected with US 441 and was dissatisfied that I had not taken it from Milledgeville. After purchasing more food, I took US 80 through Dublin and turned onto state roads 29 and 86. East of Dublin, SR 86 diverts from SR 29, and I encountered less traffic there. I took SR 86 to the Blackville community located at the intersection of SR 78 (15). I logged 60+ miles on Thursday.
I pitched my tent in Blackville under an oak and
within 20 feet of the graves in the
cemetery. I crossed the road, got "nekked"
behind the volunteer fire department, and took a cold shower under a garden
hose. I was refreshed after washing a two-day's collection of salt
from my body. There is a covered deck with tables and benches in
Blackville; it offered a pleasant venue for outdoor dining. When
the temperature fell to 34 degrees, I put on more clothes to remain warm.
During the night, I heard grunting and snorting noises. I initially
thought graveyard demons were preparing to attack, but it was only a few
wild hogs that, like me, choose the graveyard as a quiet place to bed down
for the night.
Friday, November 21
I rummaged thru my BOB bag to find the last remaining
Power Bars and had them for breakfast. I left Blackville at 9AM and
rode under clear skies on SR 86 to Oak Park for a store stop. The
convenience store cashier inquired about my trip, and I gave her a thumbnail
description of my route. She shook her head and commented, "It is
amazing what people will do for fun." The pavement of SR 86 is slightly
rough from Blackville to Oak Park, but the traffic is nil. Painted
road markers from Vidalia's Sweet Onion Double Metric Century were still
visible. I reflected to a Saturday in May when I followed them for
the first time. Those markers indicated that I had entered familiar
territory.
Near the Ohoopee community, at the intersection of state roads 86 and 292, I spread my poncho in a pecan orchard. The uncollected nuts made a lumpy bed, but they did not prevent me from taking a 30-minute nap. My legs complained as I rose from my nap, but the break emotionally recharged me to complete the final 20 miles of my tour. I turned east on SR 292 and stopped in Collins for another Little Debbie and gulps of Dew. I continued on SR 292 to Bellville and into Claxton. I covered 55 miles on Friday.
I logged about 320 miles on my trip. My
average speed each day was 11.5 -12.5 mph. I lost a bag of bagels,
a bandanna, and a few pounds along the way, but I had no flats. The
hills, traffic, scenery, and brief encounters with locals kept me occupied
during the day, but I missed having company in the evenings.