SHENANDOAH VALLEY, FROM ABOVE

Thanksgiving week-end, end of November, was this year a four-days holiday - a rare treat in America. So with the Randonneurs USA season by now closed, and this being the last chance for a good cycling break before the long winter spreads all over the North East, I opted for giving turkeys a rest and rather spend the week-end in Virginia. Having actually never been to the South of the US, I decided on targeting the Shenandoah National Park, essentially because of all the flattering comments I had read and heard about it. Geographically speaking, the place is quite interesting, with more than a few similarities with the Alsace region of France where I used to live some years ago. The Shenandoah river flows from South to North, but for about hundred miles it is constituted by two parallel branches separated by the Massanutten Mountains. The river southern branch is bordered on the East by the Blue Ridge mountains, a continuous chain of fairly constant altitude around 4,000 feet high. So for our favourite pastime, one can find either serious mountain climbing, or the rolling landscape of the Valley - or mix both. The one thing which makes the Blue Ridge mountains special is that it is a National Park, one of the very few in this part of the country. For over hundred miles, the ridge is totally empty of any human settling, the former hill-farming communities having been relocated in the 1930s when the Park was created. And at the same time, legions of unemployed Depression-era laborers were put to work and built what is now Skyline Drive, a two lane motorway longing the top of the National Park all the way over more than hundred miles. It was definitely too good to ignore, and I decided to ride as much as practical of Skyline Drive over the two days I would be there. I stayed in Luray, 10 miles from the National Park entrance by Thornton Gap, which is about half-way between both ends of the Park. On the Friday I would head North then come back, and on the Saturday it would be South. The most direct way to get to Thornton Gap from Luray is US Highway 211, a wide motorway bearing only moderate traffic. I rather opted to try my luck on minor roads before rejoining the highway further up and closer to the Gap. It first worked well, and saw me happily ride through wonderful countryside in mild temperatures; the road was very slightly inclined and followed a little river, and evidence of small-scale farming activities could be seen everywhere. The Valley played an important role during the Civil War as being the main resource of the Confederacy for food, forage and horses, and I could see it is still seriously agricultural. It went a little bit less well when what was supposed to be road 669 according to my map degenerated into a dirt track, which went up through the woods. Seriously. So up I went, and boy hard work it was. Hard enough for that at a point I stopped and walked one of the steepest bits. Up again, and again, brought me to the point when I arrived to a fork showing three directions. Each of the three advising unambiguously: Private Property - No Trespassing. Well, this is America, and that side of the Potomac people have the reputation to all have a gun with them; I accept the idea of dying on a bike, but not by gunshot please! So I retraced all the way to Highway 211. So much for the reliability of American road maps. The climb up Thornton Gap on Highway 211 is a beautiful ride. For 4 miles you keep climbing steadily through the woods at about 7.5%, which brings you to about 2,500 feet altitude. I went up on 42x24 and made it reasonably comfortably to the top, where I was to experience a personal first: being charged a 5$ fee for being allowed to ride into Skyline Drive. Hey, this is business, and this is America. But to be fair, the value proved to be well worth the fee, not least by its virtues for discouraging motorists and keeping the traffic on the light side. The ride North from Thornton Gap is truly beautiful. Skyline Drive having been designed exclusively for tourists, it keeps showing you alternate views over the Rappahannock Valley to the West, and the Shenandoah Valley to the East. Both of which you dominate by at least 2,000 feet. It is regularly graded as well, meaning you don't face anything any steeper than 9% or so. The road is regularly crossed by the celebrated Appalachian Trail, even though I did not see any hiker over the week-end. And you have designated view points every few miles or so, where you just can't stop gaping at the incredible views on offer. I went on for about 10 miles in still clear weather and on easy terrain, then suddenly everything disappeared into mist. You could guess the sky was not far high up, and occasionally the sun would reappear as a gust of wind would beautifully tore out the mist. Great fun really, even though the road was by now going up again and I was starting to feel hunger and tiredness. After having passed altitude 3,200 feet about, the road went down and I started to realize that descending in a thick mist is not the safest thing to do even with lights on and moderate traffic. So I decided to have a break for food, and then retrace my way back. The weatherman had said that high winds later in the afternoon were a possibility, and I did not want to be caught in a storm while descending Thornton Gap. This was after all end of November and altitude about 1,000 metres. Shenandoah is believed to have one of the highest densities of wild black bears in the USA. You don't think of it at first. But believe me, when you are standing on the roadside, into a thick mist, busying yourself with getting food out of paper wraps, it is amazing how all these stories of bears being attracted by food immediately start to flood back! Every shade of mist becomes like a moving animal, and you keep listening to cracking leaves and branches as if you had perceived some heavy step down there. Now, what was this story Pat told us once in Alsace while hill-climbing into the woods, and involving a (male) bear and a hunter? I hence did not linger for too long, and started to climb back to where I came from. Tiredness had taken its toll and perhaps the gradient had gone up so I was now using the 42x28. Two miles down the road, a majestic, large hart, complete with splendid horns, suddenly emerged from the mist on the roadside; I did not attempt to brake as I am not sure the squeak of pads on steel rims would have made the situation any safer, and man and beast just gave each other one of these blasé looks of the one who has seen much in his life and is not prepared to be fooled just like that. None did make any move, hence so I kept descending. The mist cleared shortly before the top of Thornton Gap, so I could again indulge in appreciative looks over the views. But by now the sky had become quite laden with black clouds and wind was growing, so I opted for safety and the ride back to base. The descent of Thornton Gap was uneventful, apart for a PINGGGGG noise from the rear which did not seem to have any effect on the bike, and proved later to have been the last breath of a pannier clip before it went into orbital mode. I was only three miles away from the motel, and fortunately just out of Highway 211 when suddenly heavens opened. So it is a soaked to the bone rider who disappeared into a hot bath prior to going exploring the Luray Caverns - beautiful caves indeed, worth the look and reasonably preserved from commercial tackiness - by US standards at any rate. I then indulged in a good dinner at the excellent Brookside restaurant located along Highway 211, on the way to Thornton Gap. The beer list advertised the usual imported products plus the inevitable Bud and Coors, and in addition a mysterious 'yuppie beer'. I then asked for a Sam Adams, which they indeed had, and turned out to be priced. just like the 'yuppie beer'! I suppose it all means that in rural Virginia you just can't deliberately advertise a product designed in Yankee New England. Come to that, I had read that real old Southerners don't celebrate Thanksgiving which they regard as a Yankee holiday, but then obviously citizens of Luray, Virginia are not real old Southerners. As I set off on day 2, temperature had markedly dropped from the day before. The sky had been cleared and showed a glorious mix of sunshine and light blue, and colors over the well-named Blue Ridge Mountains were splendid. So on I went along Highway 211 again up Thornton Gap, abandoning any idea of the dirt track this time. I knew the way south on Skyline Drive goes higher in altitude than the northern side, so I climbed Thornton Gap on economy mode on 42x28. The ranger at the toll booth kindly warned me that 'it could be getting windy up there', and I was well prepared to believe her given how windy it already was at the toll. When sheltered temperature was okay, slightly above freezing perhaps; but when exposed, boy this was cold. Fortunately, the terrain would help keeping warm. On the way up at least. It's about 10 miles or so between the top of Thornton Gap and Skyland, the highest point on Skyline Drive at 3,680 feet (or for you and me, a respectable 1100 metres for a late November ride). You keep climbing most of the time over these 10 miles, and with good bits of headwind for completeness it makes for a good ride. And boy, what a beautiful road it is. The northern section is very good, but the southern one is just magic. Views over the Shenandoah Valley are out of this world (the Rappahannock Valley is less often displayed in comparison), and this being November I can only dream how beautiful it must be in the Spring or Autumn. Now, with ice stalagtites all around proving that, well, temperature was actually below freezing, I must confess I was not able to stop at viewpoints as often and long as I would have liked. The sun was out, all right, but you didn't quite feel it. It went okay on the way up, the work helping to maintain a good thermal balance; but once reaching Skyland I started telling myself that this was definitely too cold for staying out very long, and hence opted for coming back leisurely. God, how cold it was. I stopped a couple of times at sheltered viewpoints, donned a third layer without feeling any better, got some food, gesticulated for keeping some blood flowing; and occasionally enjoyed the views. But was still feeling terribly cold at the top of Thornton Gap; descending it was a torture, the worst descent I can remember - eminently worse than certain brake-less and light-less descent of the Gospel Pass at midnight in the rain together with Pat on the 2002 South Coast 600. At the bottom of the pass, I shivered across the road to the first commercial establishment, where I needed half an hour sitting on the radiator before being able to down a Coke and cookie and somewhat be able to consider riding on - a fairly curious sight to the shopkeeper. Needless to say, the hot bath in Luray was welcomed once again, after what I felt sufficiently repaired for going exploring local (excellent) wineries. With the car. As a conclusion, I would recommend to any cyclist happening to be in the vicinity to ride Skyline Drive. It is a truly wonderful road to cycle on, and it is a terrible shame that there is no organizer of long distance Audax-style rides in Virginia, because I dream of a night stage over the whole of Skyline Drive, in summer, by moonlight. The very, truly big surprise I have is that over the week-end I did not see any other cyclist. Not one. And Luray, the most important centre 20 miles around, an ideal gateway to Shenandoah National Park, does not seem to have such a thing as a bike shop! Strange people. Maybe I should have told them the bicycle is definitely not a Yankee invention... Laurent CHAMBARD Wantage CTC