We bolted from the campground without breakfast, and coasted all the way down to the town of Vesuvius. This is one of the hardest climbs on the TransAmerica Route for eastbound riders; but going westbound, we weren't even warmed up.

The guidebook says 200 people live here, but we didn't see a soul. Vesuvius is bisected by the Norfolk Western RR, and it looks like both halves were the “wrong side” of town — everything was boarded up. We ended up at a truck stop on I-81 for breakfast, our bicycles dwarfed by the giant 18-wheelers.

We headed south down the scenic Shenandoah Valley, stopping for lunch at Lexington, home of Washington and Lee University and the Virginia Military Institute. (The congestion at W&L led us to believe it was graduation weekend.) …

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This is by far the most difficult day of the trip. We rode through rolling farmland, struggled up switchbacks to the Cookie Lady's Bike House, then discovered the Blue Ridge Parkway is not level.

This is the part of the trip we should have been training for all spring, but I don't think even that would have prepared us for this.

We enjoyed meeting the Cookie Lady, who shared some time with us. [We had no way of knowing that her helpfulness to bicycling passersby would later result in the Adventure Cycling Association's Trail Angel Award being named in her honor.] Later, however, we became distressed to learn that we had more climbing and farther to ride to reach our campground…

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Six days into our TransAmerica bike tour, and we're already taking our first day off. The first five days have been a shakedown cruise — the last days of training and the first of our trip. I feel that our journey begins in earnest tomorrow.

After lolling around our hostess' apartment for a while, we boxed up some clothes to send back home. I sent back an extra sweater and other clothes that only filled space and added weight to my panniers.

Why did I pack so much crap? Maybe I can cheat gravity a little a we head into the Appalachians…

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Our Bikecentennial guidebook calls this the rolling Piedmont of Louisa and Hanover counties. Contemplating the issue of gravity on the porch of Kent's Store, I decided I'm carrying too much stuff.

These might be called rollercoaster hills, but they aren't as much fun as an amusement park. I speed downhill at top speed, cross a creek, then begin the uphill struggle. All that momentum is lost the moment the slope changes. Even

though I had installed a triple chainring, giving me 15 gears, I can't downshift fast enough to sustain any speed. I'm either jamming the chain or dropping down to the lowest gears, spinning the pedals furiously to make any progress….

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I jumped out of the sack before 6, but we still didn't leave until 8. Three packets of instant oatmeal for breakfast. It's still friggin' cold (see Bruce in sweater, left).

After pedaling around Ashland, we headed up some narrow roads to Scotchtown, the home of Patrick Henry. We ate an early lunch there and met the groundskeeper, an old guy in beatup overalls.

After leaving Scotchtown, the route started to climb. We were leaving the sandy Tidewater region and entering the firmer Piedmont plateau. This means that streams drop a few feet to the softer coastal sands, earning the term “fall line.”  We found another reason to call it the “fall line.” …..

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After another breakfast of instant coffee, Pop-tarts and juice, we followed the campground owner's directions to the TransAmerica bicycle route via the historical Washington-Rochambeau route.

Today was chilly riding. Bruce wore polypro bottoms and tops, sweats, turtleneck, wool sweater, gloves and a hat under his helmet. Yesterday's warmish 80 degree high makes the weather today seem that much cooler….

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