What a day!

When I was checking into the hotel in New Orleans, I met two other road-weary riders checking in. The usual conversation started -- "where you coming from? where you heading?" Turns out these two sweaty, grimy bikers just road in from Cleveland. I told them I was heading there in a few days after riding the Blue Ridge Parkway. At that point, we pulled out the HD map and they showed me Highway 250.

The day started out heading through Staunton, a historic Virgina town full of old Colonials and wonderful parks. This is more my speed, something interesting to look at besides just trees. A few more towns like that and all of the sudden I was in twisties and climbing quickly. I was exploring George Washington National Forest, one of three national forests traversed by Highway 250.



I was breathless as I rode through that section. I was thrilled that I had enjoyed a great ride -- but it was 9:30am.

Then, it happened again. And again. And again. Climbing hills with turns switching between hairpins and sweepers. Peaking and then dropping into valleys with signs warning trucks of 11% downgrades (like the DOW this week). In the valleys between the peaks, small towns like something out of the animated movie Cars.



"It rolls along past houses, farms and fields." (extra credit if you can name the song for which Steve Goodman wrote that famous lyric).

If the Blue Ridge Pkwy was created for families in cars out for a day drive, then Hwy 250 was created for overgrown boys on bikes. I rode through wooden, covered bridges and past historic and scenic train tracks. I saw ponds, lakes, rivers, rapids and cascades. I avoided five deer running across the road and three trucks who preferred my lane to theirs.

It was the 3rd best motoring day of my life. Thank you nameless bikers from Cleveland via New Orleans!