Trail Angels Abound
Since we had detoured off of the ACA maps to visit Williamsburg, we improvised our own route and found ourselves on County Road 617 on a warm and golden morning, wheeling through the multiple peanut fields and pine forests. We found that the riding in Southern Virginia to be nearly the antithesis of what we encountered in the DC metro area...two lane country roads with virtually no traffic to speak of, and when we did encounter folks, they waved or politely tooted their horns. As we rode along, we observed that a number of fields were still flooded. Even though the rains had subsided two days ago, the creeks were swollen, and evidence of flooding was everywhere. In fact, a number of the bridges we road across had just recently been reopened. Debris, logs, and muck were everywhere, but the yellow police barrier tape was down and it appeared that we had clear sailing ahead.
We stopped to photograph a fully loaded peanut truck, which for us was quite a novel sight. A gentleman stopped to ask us what we were doing, as it probably isn't everyday that two people on a tandem bike are parked along side the road gazing at a truckload of peanuts. We never got the fellows name, but he was a "peanut buyer", purchasing peanuts for one of the three large companies that control peanuts in this part of the world. We knew that peanuts grew beneath the ground, but had no idea how they were harvested or processed. He explained that during harvest season, machines dig up the whole plant and basically turn them over upside down, exposing them to the sun. They are left to dry in the fields for 5-7 days, at which time another piece of machinary "vaccums" them up, separates the peanuts from the plant, and thats what we were seeing in the peanut trucks. An acre yields about 4000 pounds of peanuts, and the farmer gets around 22 cents a pound for their effort. When you consider that a pound of roasted "ballpark" nuts sells for about $3.00 in the store, somebody other than the farmer is making the money off of them. In fact, since subsidies have been lowered, a number of the growers have switched to cotton as a new cash crop.
Sadly, the rain had wreaked havoc on the cotton in this part of the county. The fields looked like soggy tissue paper, with the cotton no longer in puffy balls, but dangling limply from the plants. This had been a costly storm.
We got back on the trail at White Marsh Road. We knew that we were in a wetter part of the world, with names for roads like "White Marsh", or "Middle Swamp". No mention of hills here. Our route took us southward through Isle of Wight county and on towards the Great Dismal Swamp (more about that in the next entry). We were celebrating our good fortune for having weathered the storm in relatively good style, but soon had a startling and totally unexpected obstacle placed right in our way. We crested a small hill only to find that the road was gone...washed out, completely underwater for at least 500 yards. There was no way getting through this one. Homes were flooded, and people were using flat bottomed bass boats to save what belongings the;y could from their homes. There were a few trucks stopped ahead of us and we found out that Isle of Wight county had 10 inches of rain. Apparently, no one had seen anything like this since Hurricane Floyd back in 1999. We later learned that the "Nor Easter" we experienced in the area was one of the worst in the past 30 years. With all the devistation and misfortune, our dilema seemed trival, yet we were in a pickle. It seemed that the only solution to get around the washed out road and stay on course was to backtrack to Smithfield and go around the flooded area. Apparently, there were a heck of a lot more roads in the county washed out, and there would be no getting through for 2 or 3 more days.
Cowabunga! What a mess. The "backtrack" meant 30 miles, and even then we still didn't know if we would be able to get through. It was already 2 PM, and we were at a lost for options. And then our Trail Angel appeared.
Adeventure Cycling gives an award each year to a "Trail Angel". He or she is an individual that does something extraordinary to help bicyclists. Our Angel is Billy Cofer. Billy works as a mechanic for logging equipment and was on his way home when we caught up with him at the washed out bridge. We spent around 5 minutes pouring over maps together, trying to figure a way around the floods. He shook his head a number of times as we came up with alternatives, as nothing would seem to work. Finally, he just shrugged and told us.."Heck, if y'all are willin' to chance it, let's throw that bike of yours into my pickup and see if we can get through". And that's exactly what we did. Billy took us on a course that somehow circumvented the washed out roads, and delivered us exactly on the route we needed to be, one mile south of the impassable road. If ever there was a knight in shining armor, it was Billy. So many people have been good to us along the trail, but Billy is our prince. We shook hands and reloaded BOB and Olga to continue our journey southward. We also gave Billy one of our cards and took down his address. With the latest trial behind us, we continued to proceed on.
Billy, if you're reading this, we are deeply in your debt. It's people like you that make this trip so special. And yes, you'll be getting a postcard from us when we reach Florida.
We stopped to photograph a fully loaded peanut truck, which for us was quite a novel sight. A gentleman stopped to ask us what we were doing, as it probably isn't everyday that two people on a tandem bike are parked along side the road gazing at a truckload of peanuts. We never got the fellows name, but he was a "peanut buyer", purchasing peanuts for one of the three large companies that control peanuts in this part of the world. We knew that peanuts grew beneath the ground, but had no idea how they were harvested or processed. He explained that during harvest season, machines dig up the whole plant and basically turn them over upside down, exposing them to the sun. They are left to dry in the fields for 5-7 days, at which time another piece of machinary "vaccums" them up, separates the peanuts from the plant, and thats what we were seeing in the peanut trucks. An acre yields about 4000 pounds of peanuts, and the farmer gets around 22 cents a pound for their effort. When you consider that a pound of roasted "ballpark" nuts sells for about $3.00 in the store, somebody other than the farmer is making the money off of them. In fact, since subsidies have been lowered, a number of the growers have switched to cotton as a new cash crop.
Sadly, the rain had wreaked havoc on the cotton in this part of the county. The fields looked like soggy tissue paper, with the cotton no longer in puffy balls, but dangling limply from the plants. This had been a costly storm.
We got back on the trail at White Marsh Road. We knew that we were in a wetter part of the world, with names for roads like "White Marsh", or "Middle Swamp". No mention of hills here. Our route took us southward through Isle of Wight county and on towards the Great Dismal Swamp (more about that in the next entry). We were celebrating our good fortune for having weathered the storm in relatively good style, but soon had a startling and totally unexpected obstacle placed right in our way. We crested a small hill only to find that the road was gone...washed out, completely underwater for at least 500 yards. There was no way getting through this one. Homes were flooded, and people were using flat bottomed bass boats to save what belongings the;y could from their homes. There were a few trucks stopped ahead of us and we found out that Isle of Wight county had 10 inches of rain. Apparently, no one had seen anything like this since Hurricane Floyd back in 1999. We later learned that the "Nor Easter" we experienced in the area was one of the worst in the past 30 years. With all the devistation and misfortune, our dilema seemed trival, yet we were in a pickle. It seemed that the only solution to get around the washed out road and stay on course was to backtrack to Smithfield and go around the flooded area. Apparently, there were a heck of a lot more roads in the county washed out, and there would be no getting through for 2 or 3 more days.
Cowabunga! What a mess. The "backtrack" meant 30 miles, and even then we still didn't know if we would be able to get through. It was already 2 PM, and we were at a lost for options. And then our Trail Angel appeared.
Adeventure Cycling gives an award each year to a "Trail Angel". He or she is an individual that does something extraordinary to help bicyclists. Our Angel is Billy Cofer. Billy works as a mechanic for logging equipment and was on his way home when we caught up with him at the washed out bridge. We spent around 5 minutes pouring over maps together, trying to figure a way around the floods. He shook his head a number of times as we came up with alternatives, as nothing would seem to work. Finally, he just shrugged and told us.."Heck, if y'all are willin' to chance it, let's throw that bike of yours into my pickup and see if we can get through". And that's exactly what we did. Billy took us on a course that somehow circumvented the washed out roads, and delivered us exactly on the route we needed to be, one mile south of the impassable road. If ever there was a knight in shining armor, it was Billy. So many people have been good to us along the trail, but Billy is our prince. We shook hands and reloaded BOB and Olga to continue our journey southward. We also gave Billy one of our cards and took down his address. With the latest trial behind us, we continued to proceed on.
Billy, if you're reading this, we are deeply in your debt. It's people like you that make this trip so special. And yes, you'll be getting a postcard from us when we reach Florida.
posted by Matt and Mary Ellen | 12:45 PM
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