Duffield to Damascus

73 miles. Creepin on the Creeper.

Ahh, it feels good to be home. And home, as in, Damascus, an old favorite AT town; it feels like I was just walking in to town. That was over 3 years ago.

The morning started out horribly, and I wasn't sure there would be any redemption. We began in a downpour on a highway with no shoulder. That's a scary combination that I don't wish to experience again. We had to pull over and jump behind the guard rail to take cover under some trees, which wasn't that much of a rain block anyway. The rain poured off of our heads and salt ran in my eyes. I ate a jelly sandwich while we waited. Just livin the dream.

Knowing Damascus and the Creeper Trail was at the end of our day was the only thing that kept me going. And shortly after the downpour, the sun came out and the sky turned a powder blue. There's always a silver lining.

We stopped in Abingdon, an adorable, quaint historic little town with outdoor cafe's and delicious restaurants. Dinner was at 128 Pecan, where I scarfed down a big bowl of a spicy shrimp pasta. It isn't often that we have access to good food; usually our meals come from gas stations, fast food joints, or convenience stores. Elva, our spunky waitress, was so excited and impressed by our trip that any time she asked a question, her reaction to our answer was, "Shut up!" She was a pistol.

The Creeper Trail was awesome! An easy, gradual, 16 mile downhill ride from Abingdon to Damascus. The trail was beautiful and had plenty of areas where it opened up to the rolling Virginia hills; we passed farms and homesteads along the way when not riding the magical tunnel of trees. Both McKinley and I grinned all the way to Damascus. And agreed that the TransAm should include more rail trails, or at least present them as alternate routes.

I am loving me some Virginia.